#people I haven’t really talked to online find me interesting enough to follow!!!!

[yellobb]

I went from 0 Good Omens mutuals to 2 today and I’m feeling very emo about it 🥹❤️

[sirianasims]

It was Saturday night. We had ordered room service, watched an old cult classic in bed. Paul hadn’t felt like going out. A reporter had cornered him in the airport yesterday and questioned him about his frequent visits to San Myshuno, asked if he was seeing someone.

He’d denied it.

Despite the fame, Paul was an intensely private person, always guarding his personal space against a world that kept demanding more. I respected that, even though I was more used to the opposite. My personal life was part of my online brand, but I’d followed his lead and kept our relationship secret.

Paul’s arms were wrapped around me, his chest firm and reassuring against my back. The rhythmic cadence of his breathing was like a soft lullaby, but I was nowhere close to falling asleep.

“Julia? Is something wrong? Are you still thinking about the reporter?”

“It’s just… all this secrecy.”

“You don’t think I denied seeing anyone because I’m ashamed of you, do you?”

I took a deep breath.

“Seventeen years, Paul. It’s not just the number, it’s the experience. I’m proud of what I do, I really am, but compared to you, drawing and sewing in front of a tiny camera by myself seems… trivial. You have this glamorous life, you know all these famous people, you’ve traveled the world. I haven’t done anything. Sometimes I’m afraid that I might not be, well, sophisticated or interesting enough for you. That I might never be someone you’d want to show off in public.”

“Listen to me, Julia. You are more than enough for anyone. Definitely for me. But if people find out about us, I’m not worried about myself. An older actor dating a younger woman? That’s not a scandal, that’s a cliché. But you… I really don’t want you facing the kind of judgment this would get you.”

“Wait, you’re saying you’re concerned about my reputation?”

“In a way. I don’t care what people say about me any more. I’ve been in this industry long enough to develop a thick skin. But you deserve so much better. And while it isn’t fair, the world is much more likely to judge you, and that’s the last thing I want.”

I cupped his face in my hands.

“Paul, I don’t care. What could they possibly say?”

He looked away, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

“Oh, you have no idea. They’ll say that you callously seduced me to further your own career or that you’re too dumb to be anything more than arm candy. Probably somehow both. They’ll accuse you of being a gold-digger. Men will hate you because they can’t have you, women will hate you because they can’t be you. People will be cruel and unforgiving and pick apart everything you are. They will criticise your work, your looks, the way you walk and talk. And it never ends. The peak of my fame was almost a decade ago, but they’re still following me into airports and asking about my love life.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond. Paul looked at me earnestly.

“Julia, I believe in you. Your work is great, especially your own designs, and I’ve seen a lot of costumes. I want you to be famous for being incredibly talented, not just for being Paul Romeo’s girlfriend.”

I couldn’t help but smile.

“Oh, so I am your girlfriend, then?”

He laughed.

“That’s your takeaway from this conversation? Of course you are, what do you think we’ve been doing for the last few months?”

“Well, what do I know, I’m just the dumb arm candy of Paul Romeo. I should probably be pestering you to buy me a sports car made of diamonds or a platinum ladder so I can social-climb in style.”

Paul chuckled.

“That sounds impractical. And you’re definitely not dumb, but you’re pretty terrible at being a gold-digger. All joking aside, I don’t like keeping you a secret either, but I know the dark side of fame, how toxic it can be. It can really poison a relationship. I’ve seen it happen to friends and colleagues over and over again, and I just want to protect you from that. Protect us.”

I respected Paul for his noble intentions, for looking out for me. Still, a part of me, that stubborn – and probably naive – part, wanted to stand tall and shout it from the rooftops, consequences be damned.

But I also knew that he was right.

Those consequences would hurt me way more than they would hurt him.

beginning / previous / next

[silverrose1999]

No one will understand this but I’ve felt such a deep connection with both Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold since I’ve discovered them on YouTube almost a decade ago when I was 15. Without even knowing who they were at the time, I think maybe it was an infatuation but over the years it’s grown and I genuinely don’t know why. I didn’t even feel sad for the people they killed when I found out what they had done, I tried and I couldn’t, I only felt for them. I find myself feeling sad for them on their birthdays and the anniversary of the shooting and I’ve even had great irritation when I feel people misunderstand them or get facts wrong about the case and say things about them that make them look worse than what they were. Over the years I’ve hoped me caring about them would die down a little bit (seeing as I’m now an adult in my mid 20’s) but not go completely away because then I’d feel like I miss them and I don’t want to miss them more than what I do now. It feels like I have just enough of them to not be overcome with sadness about them being gone but also not enough to make me completely happy like them being gone feels wrong to me. I don’t know what it was that drew me to them and I don’t regret finding out about them. I just wish I knew why I had an instant feeling of happiness/familiarity when I first saw them that still lingers today. I had a tumblr account back when I was a teen that was dedicated to them (Dylan in particular) and I think about it often ever since it got terminated and to this day it’s still my favorite account that I’ve ever had on social media. I felt genuine happiness getting online and seeing my layout which was heavily Dylan themed and interacting with people who had the same interest in the same people I did. After my 1st account that I had from 2015- 2019 was terminated, I didn’t make another figuring the world was probably giving me a sign but kept thinking about the account and them in particular everyday. I made an account on twitter in 2022 but that one was terminated as well and here I am again, still repeating the same cycle. I’m not sure why I can’t let them go or why I feel the urge to see them sometimes and just hear people talk about them in a nice way. I genuinely don’t believe a day has gone by in the last almost 10 yrs where I haven’t thought of them, some days are worse than others and I can’t get over the fact that they’re dead and I don’t want them to be and I wish they weren’t. Yes, I’m aware they killed people and no, me feeling like this doesn’t mean I want to follow in their footsteps. I’ve never once felt the need or want to commit an act of terrorism or kill anyone in their name, or in general, that’s not what this is at all. I just care about both of them deeply and I’ve felt a deep connection and pull from the first moment I laid eyes on them and I don’t know why. I’d like to find out but I don’t really see how that’s possible so now I just try to find ways to cope with the fact that I will probably feel like this about them for the rest of my life and be less sad sometimes about them not being here. Today was a hard day but I believe I feel like this for a reason.

[bunnidid-reviews]

DID Series Review

Facts -

Series name: Fractale

Run time: 2011-2011 (11 episodes)

Fiction or Nonfiction: Fiction

Was there a diagnosis of DID? Not explicitly, no

Was the person with DID presented as evil for having DID? No

Major Trigger warning list:

- Heavy Religious Themes (talk of purity and sin and all that)

-Incestuous Sexual Abuse (nonexplicit but heavily implied)

- mild Anime Bullshit (Awkward sexual themes and fanservice of minor characters that all anime seems to have some of)

- Gun violence, blood

- heavy themes of government control and gaslighting

- themes of people going ‘crazy’ and suicidal

- attempted sexual assault

- Clones being created and evaporated as a government experiment (is this a trigger? It might be)

- the implication of purposefully created DID via traumatic experiences

Subjective Review(this is how I felt about it) –

Personal triggering scale from 1 to 10 (1 being not triggering at all, 10 being a badly overwhelming experience that might cause personal harm): it goes from 1-8 for me because the implications are close to home and it did send me down a weird spiral every time I watched the last episode. There’s also some fairly violent scenes

Personal relatability scale from 1 to 10 (1 being unrelatable, 10 being OMG THAT’S ME!): 9

Personal avoidance scale from 1 to 10(1 being eager to get on with it, 10 being impossible to finish): 2

My interpretation of the media(Includes spoilers):

Fractale takes place in a futuristic society that relies entirely on the Fractale System, which is kind-of like the internet + VR capabilities. Most people use avatars, or named in this series Doppels to travel throughout the world while staying stationary themselves elsewhere(?). The logic of it all is both explained throughout the series and also very vague and hard to understand

The story follows Klaine as the male lead who doesn’t use the Fractale system, instead living in a rural little town on his own, away from his parents. He doesn’t seem to care about anyone or anything but collecting tech from the old world(which would be our modern society). His whole life is turned upside-down when our interesting female lead Phryne flies into his life, evidently on the run from rebels trying to capture her. Phryne hides with Klaine and leaves him the next morning with a little pendant; the key to the Fractale system.

Within the pendant is a little girl Doppel named Nessa, who seems to have a both physical and digital form and is full of energy and attachment feelings

Everything about this anime is unoriginal, based heavily on Castle in the Sky I’m guessing, as well as maybe Ready Player One(or maybe Sword Art Online? I can’t say because I haven’t seen that one though). But somehow, by taking these honestly better Ips and mashing them together, they’ve made this incredibly unoriginal and bland piece of art. I couldn’t find anything interesting about Klaine to even root for him really.

A lot of the series is focused around The System Bad But Also The Rebels Bad Because They Are Extreme. So the message is very blurry and poorly portrayed, especially when we have the ending that… Both Are Good Enough Anyway So We Didn’t Change Anything Actually Despite Many People Dying For Both Causes. It’s…. really ambiguous as to what the fuck all this was for? The anime was made with a lot of spite and hatred for the anime industry and you can just tell there’s not a lot of love put into it, unlike other series I’ve watched for these reviews.

Except.. For the portrayal of DID. Which is what we’re here for.

Maybe it’s because of how vague the whole anime is, but it lends enough room for the portrayal of DID to be fairly accurate, which can vary wildly from individual to individual as it is.

To explain shortly, Nessa, the key to the Fractale system, is a dissociated part of Phryne. In fact, that’s explicitly what she is, as revealed in the final episode.

1,000 years ago, when the Fractale System was created, they chose a girl to be the key to rebooting the whole system if it was ever needed, essentially making her God. God was a 16-year-old girl with DID, as a result of her father molesting her. It was within this split  that they based the whole Fractale system’s stability on.

Now Phyrne had been cloned thousands of times to replicate the original God, but to no avail. One of the clones had been raised by one of the temple’s men as her father. He did some beep boop research into the first Phryne and found out about the DID, so he.. Created DID within her by molesting her too. Thus she split Nessa, who took on a physical form in a Doppel.

Throughout the series, we see the two parts interact a little more over time, from Phryne being negligent and cold to this attachment, pure part of herself, them hating eachother and slowly coming to understand and love eachother in a very DID way that’s honestly quite beautiful.

All of this is vastly interesting and I’m so furious they didn’t focus more of the story on Phryne and Nessa!!!! So much was centered around the boring main character guy’s personal conflicts of am I A Rebel Or Not which ULTIMATELY DIDN’T EVEN MATTERRRR AAAAA

Overall, the execution of the anime was really poorly done and honestly boring, but I actually loved the concept of Phryne and Nessa and I really wish there was more of them and their relationship. I’ll go into the DID a little more in the rest of the review.

What they got Right in my opinion:

-          The cause of DID being childhood trauma, in this case incestuous sexual abuse

-          Nessa, although a ‘happy’ part, encapsulates Phryne’s needs for love and attachment, and since she’s dissociated off the whole (and therefore condensed, as parts tend to be), her needs and intense and her reactions are easily triggered

-          Phryne being in a lot of denial and inability to confront the fact that Nessa is part of her

-          Phryne explicitly dissociates multiple times(eyes go blurry and blank, she goes limp, she seemingly looses time and doesn’t have the full awareness of what may be happening)

-          Phryne is notably strong-willed and confident but fawns ‘for the greater good’

-          Nessa and Phrynes relationship can only be described as someone coming to love their younger self in such a… Parts way, you know? Like the accepting that you’re eachother and you also love yourself and eachother and ugh, it’s just beautiful

-          Nessa and Phryne integrate/fuse at the end, and it’s shown later that they’re now one complete person with traits from both of them, just no longer separate

-          Oh, the insecurity and feeling worthless and unlovable from trauma is palpable

-          While I thought the incestuous father was portrayed to be pretty over-the-top, I really appreciated how fucked up and not okay and creepy they portrayed it, rather than going more of one of those anime grey area ways you see sometimes. I feel like he was ridiculous, but you felt the weight of what he was doing reguardless

-          The portrayal of Nessa being a Doppel  really fits into the magic/technology system of the world, where people already tend to have a separation between soul and flesh. It felt like the DID naturally fit in

What they got Wrong in my opinion:

-          Klaine is boring as fuck why do we focus on his inner struggles when theres literally so much more to be focused on around him

-           I couldn’t think of any glaring issues with the DID representation otherwise. Since things are left fairly vague, there wasn’t anything in particularly ‘wrong’ that they latched onto as fact

Would I recommend this to someone with DID to watch?:  Uhhhhhhhhh maybe. I think Phryne and Nessa are somewhat worthwhile, but it can be triggering and otherwise really bland to watch. I’ll just give you a similar vague message as the anime does: sure, whatever

[kattahj]

Fic Meme

I was tagged by @sophiainspace and thought it looked fun! If, reading this, you think it looks fun too, feel tagged!

Please note that I have been writing fic online since 1998, and I will definitely focus more (but not entirely) on the newer stuff. I'll also try not to mention the same fic more than once - there's more than enough to choose from!

Fic Meme

My favourite of my fics... There are definitely fics that are closer to my heart than others – some fics I keep thinking of and expanding on long after they're done, others I forget about until something reminds me. But I can't possibly choose one favourite. Most of the ones below are in the "close to my heart" category.

My fluffiest fic is probably Tight-Knight, a Once Upon a Time fic about knitting. Lots of Swan-Charming-Jones family feels.

My funniest fic is... You know, I really haven't written much humor. Of the relatively new ones, I think HEAnowbitches unveils Rebecca Silver (Legends of Tomorrow fic) is pretty funny.

My saddest fic is... again, of the relatively new ones, Ray and Rose and That Guy Trevor, a Julie and the Phantoms fic about Julie's parents.

A fic I almost didn't post is Just a Small Step, the first of the Jay/Gil stories. Or more accurately, I was hesitant to even write it, because I didn't know who would read it. It was pretty slow to pick up readers, too, but did prove to have a bit of a following before the end.

The fic I had most fun writing is... hard to choose, but I think I'm going to say Glimpses of a Life In Love, the Fergus/Marsali story, just because I've been shipping these two for a quarter century, and it felt so good to have an onscreen version with a fic-reading fandom. Back when I hung out on Outlander mailing lists, if you so much as breathed about fic you got shut down, instantly.

My favourite ship to write is... ohh, this is difficult. I have too many fandoms! But I did really enjoy writing Willex from Julie and the Phantoms in Stealing Back a Soul, because it allowed me to be sappy and also write a love song.

My favourite femslash ship to write is... I had a lot of fun with All This Dystopia Needs is a Blue Door, a Society fic with Becca/Kelly.

My favourite OT3 to write is... the Havenites are near and dear to my heart (such as in Placing my Child in Your Arms), but the love is tinged with bitterness these days. The Man from UNCLE trio in Paragraph 17 is a more uncomplicated love (at least if I don't consider the actors). And of course there's the Three Men and a Baby polycule in Three Men and a Chance at Love.

My favourite non-romantic pairing to write is... I really enjoyed writing Klaus and Ben from Umbrella Academy in A Minor Complication. Though I appreciate all comments on the fic, obviously, it does make me a little salty when people treat it as if it's just a Klaus fic. Ben may not be the POV character, but he's just as important! They also appear together in Drugs, Death, and a Giant Robot, which is a crossover with Dead Like Me.

My favourite character to write is probably Milah from Once Upon a Time, in Other Duties Just as Sacred, because she was such an interesting and potentially complex character, and was completely squandered by the writers (and maligned by the fandom).

My favourite neurodiversity fic is I would say a tie between Closing the Circle (Real Genius fic) and One Step Forward, Two Steps Back (Descendants fic) because Jordan in the former and Gil in the latter are so different from each other. Jordan talks a mile a minute, while Gil has difficulty finding words and picking up on what other people are saying. It made both of their POVs a writing challenge in different ways.

The fic I remember writing most clearly is... hard to tell, but the Haven fic The Muse of Gym Bleachers and Bathroom Stalls is a strong contender. Writing it felt less like making stuff up and more like putting into words what Duke Crocker and Nathan Wuornos clearly must have been up to in their high school days.

My favourite 'written out of spite' fic is... you know, spite isn't really a factor in most of my fics. But if "these characters need more appreciation from both canon and fandom" counts, then Worth the Distraction is up there, the Shadowhunters/Mortal Instruments fic where I let Lydia Branwell befriend Jessamine Lovelace's ghost. Also Cinematic Healing in the same fandom, where I focus on Maia's friendships with various people, and the BBC Class fic Everything's Better With Cupcakes, which is about April and Tanya.

My most-read fic is A Treasure from the Trash, a Shadowhunters Malec dumpster baby fic (where the dumpster baby is a different one from the book canon, which I only learned about after I'd already started writing).

My least-read fic is Away from the Abyss. Which, yes, few people are going to read "Ran" fic 37 years after the film premiered, and fewer still are going to want to read Kyoami/Tsurumaru, two characters who barely interacted in canon, but I REALLY enjoyed writing it, and sometimes you have to write fic for yourself and the two people who end up leaving kudos/comments. I think the story came out pretty well, and as a bonus I learned a lot of Japanese history, which enriched my viewing of the film as well.

The WIP I most regret not finishing is... I mean, the Uma/Elle fic that's meant to be the third part in the Steps series is still stuck mostly inside my head and I want to get it out. As for stuff that's actually posted, I think Other Duties left off at an OK point, so I guess I'll go for older fare and say Birthdayverse Realities, an Angel AU fic.

My favourite gen fic is... I have so many. SO MANY. But okay, I will say The Big Four-Oh Will Be The Best One Yet, which is a Legends of Tomorrow fic about Nate's birthday, because I like seeing all these characters celebrating together, and it was fun trying to figure out which gifts everyone would give.

My crackiest fic is... *winces* Listen. there are other answers I could give that you might be satisfied with, but I know damned well which my crackiest fic is. It's my very first Yuletide fic from 2003, An Afterlife Afternoon in South Park. I figured that the only way to complete the assignment was to go all in, so that was what I did. I wrote a story in which Kenny's ghost blows Cartman.

And finally... Have a Christmas fic. For all that I've written a lot of Yuletide, I actually haven't done much Christmas-themed stuff, but The Winter Wall definitely qualifies! A gen fic for Michelle Magorian's Back Home.

Ask me a fic question! Or say something fic-related! If you want to!

[realcowboysdrinkjuice]

hello Alexander i hope this message reaches you in good health. in the tags of a recent post you described being able to find roleplay partners when you wanted to even with social anxiety. pray tell how did you do this. thank you for your assistance. warmly, anon y mouse

Hi!!!! first off disclaimer- i haven’t done any roleplay in agessss so hopefully all of this still applies in this age of the internet!

but when i was a lot younger i first started out by roleplaying a ton on my own minecraft server (my dad works with computers so he set one up for me and my sister in like 2011/2012) and i played with a lot of people from school from me or my sisters classes which was nice because we both had a degree of control over it since it was Our server and it was a small group of people. to be fair i was also a child so even though i wasn’t medicated yet i probably had a lot less learned anxiety at the time even if i still had the shit i was born with lmao cause there’s definitely some things i struggle with now that i didn’t as a young kid since i just didn’t think about them as much then.

after that a ton of people moved to skype and we roleplayed a TON there and that was when i was a bit older so it was fandoms and things i was actually interested in whereas in minecraft it was random stuff or our own storylines or someone’s cousin was really into assassins creed and i didn’t (and still don’t) know a single thing about the game but really wanted to roleplay anyway lmao.

honestly after skype i didn’t really roleplay very much after that even though i did it daily as a kid/early teen BUT i was still finding some ways to make friends which can be transferable to this if they also like roleplay :)!! i don’t have many friends currently idk if covid fucked me up that bad or if i’ve just gotten worse at it over time so this feels a slight bit hypocritical since i’m not following my own advice super well at the moment lol but discord is HUGE. obviously you have to be super careful but ive made a lot of online friends by joining discords servers. even when i had to lurk for a day or two before i got comfortable (and i had people encouraging me when i admitted to that) even though i would still be an anxious wreck for a while if i met online folks irl they are still so so important to me and helped me so much, especially since i have an easier time talking online. smaller discords can be good if large groups of people are intimidating but bigger ones are good if you’re worried about being singled out and want to hide in the crowd. irl i feel like the ideal group of people is three cause if i stop talking it’s not awkward since there’s still two other people, but online i don’t really mind how many people there are since it’s a lot easier of a disconnect since im just looking at words on a screen. discord is also where i played dnd for the first time! i was 15 and i barely knew anyone there but i was obsessed w the adventure zone in early high school and really wanted to try it so i pushed through that anxiety. tbh now i think i might prefer just watching (definitely cause of the social anxiety but oh well i think that’s still a valid as hell way to enjoy the game) but im so glad i found an environment where i felt safe enough to try it even though tbh i barely remember the experience so i must have been so nervous holy shit.

i’ve never used them so i can’t attest to how great they are but tons of people roleplay on online forums! i used to use a website called chicken smoothie where you collect pets and trade and shit but they had a HUUUUGGGEEE forum where tons of people were roleplaying there, and since it’s a forum it feels like it would be slower paced even though i was personally a bit nervous about the formality of the ones i saw.

honestly just tl;dr it’s still so scary but i promise you there’s people out there who are also nervous and i think creating a story with real people is just so much rewarding then anything character ai sites can do. and i think making online friends is an invaluable resource for stuff like that, especially since it’s a lot easier to hit the bricks if you get scared, especially since for me personally im selectively mute and that’s not really an issue over text so that’s one less worry i have to deal with. but i really hope you can find those people because i have so many find memories of roleplaying with my friends growing up since that was most of my social experiences (not sure how to phrase that) came from since i was so anxious at school and literally didn’t talk to barely anyone like kids in my class straight up learned to talk to teachers for me cause they knew i wasn’t going to do it so hanging out with people online was so important.

hopefully at least some of this is helpful- i don’t have a ton of experience since im still only 21 and i also spent all the covid years being stagnant so honestly i don’t even feel 21 so i definitely don’t have all the answers but that’s what i found worked for me growing up. a lot of it is just pretending you aren’t as scared as you are and just being honest with people because in my experience they’re usually really understanding about you being nervous cause everyone has been there even if it’s not to the same degree. ALSO second disclaimer- im not in therapy (tried several times but i’ve never been able to talk to the therapist which is kind of an important part of therapy) so take all of this with a grain of salt because i have no clue if any of my coping mechanisms are healthy but i haven’t died yet so i guess im doing something right?

sorry this is so long lmao and i have no clue how helpful it is

[sleepyside]

re: my last reblog. that’s a good practice in theory but what happens when you’re nearly 30 and don’t have enough close people for a “small circle” because you’ve protected yourself so well? and you find yourself weird and kind of old to be here (on tumblr) trying to express yourself well enough without oversharing, trying to be likable without compromising yourself and trying to assimilate too much?

Man I remember there was this one chick I followed on tumblr back in high school, like 2010-2011. I found her years later on Instagram after I sort of fell out of love with this place. She wasn’t Popular Online anymore and was really accessible. We had a ton of niche similar interests and I kept trying to casually start conversations on her IG stories about the things we both liked and Idfk, do the friend thing? And she was always kind and talked with me, but then the conversations would fizzle out and days later I’d be trying to figure out what I could pluck from her online presence to begin a conversation about again. She followed me back, commented on a few of my photos. She was always kind, but it wasn’t anything I could turn into *talking*. And I felt sad that she just didn’t seem interested in me like I was interested in her? I never treated her badly for it, eventually I just stopped engaging with her posts.

When I was growing up, and even now I feel inclined to do this if I someone is cool and we could be friends (although it’s a habit I’ve been working to break for years), I would figure out a person’s niche interests and seek those things out. As a sort of conversation starter. And I was always honest. Mostly honest. I’d say something like “i JUST discovered Rowland S Howard, I haven’t listened to much yet but I love what I’ve heard so far. What’s your favorite album?” And get people to gush about the thing they like a lot. And then I’d keep going back to the person “I listened to ___ and thought it was really cool, reminded me a lot of ____” and I’d like their selfies and whatever. Use whatever emojis fit *their* vibe.

It feels like a complete compromise of myself when I get that hung up on another person because 9/10 the engagement is one-sided.

And it’s made me a little resentful. And that’s ugly, I know it is.

So why am I back on tumblr? I’ve been creatively stagnant and I want to learn how to express myself without worrying if other people like it. Or like me. I wanted to get away from the influencers, people trying to get me to buy things, people making me covet things I didn’t know I wanted, and the people showing off their highlight reels. If this is the tumblr I remember, it’s about art and enjoying things.

[finnlongman]

There have been a lot of conversations happening on Twitter and Instagram recently about how harmful social media has become for authors, and YA authors in particular, and it's interesting that I haven't seen those same conversations happening on Tumblr. Maybe because I don't follow so many authors here, as this is largely my place to escape from publishing and all its drama -- it's easier to miss things here, if the specific people you follow aren't sharing it. Or maybe it's because Tumblr chased a lot of its authors away a few years ago, so isn't as directly implicated in the current wave of terribleness. 🤷🏻‍♂️

But it IS terrible. Callouts without context, pile-ons targeting anyone who has ever been associated with an author who is perceived as having done something bad, one-star troll reviews for books that aren't even out yet targeting marginalised authors, continual pressure to Perform Social Justice in a way that's suitable for external consumption (according to standards that are impossible to meet since they change daily), entitled fans harassing and targeting authors for months and then claiming powerlessness when they're called out for it despite the authors repeatedly explaining that it's triggering their PTSD...

(For that last one, see Tess Sharpe's experiences. Those readers claimed to be fans, and yet were so awful to her that she's now said she'll never talk about that book publicly again because it invited too much harassment. She repeatedly explained the impact they were having on her and yet they continued to use the "we're just joking" defence, even when it was extremely clear it wasn't funny to anyone.)

I see this as a big picture thing but I also see this firsthand from those in communities I'm in. I know authors who've decided never to return to certain worlds/series, even though they love it, because people online are so awful about it. I know people who got absolutely reamed out by social media for things they weren't even involved in, just because of their perceived connection to a target, and felt completely unable to defend themselves. Author friends have told me it's okay if I need to publicly disavow them to keep myself safe, which is mad. Every day there are more authors going 'updates only' or leaving Twitter entirely. People are afraid even to talk about how bad the harassment is for fear of making themselves targets -- and literally every newbie YA author that I know is afraid of putting a foot out of line because social media will wreck their career for it.

It sounds dramatic, and for people on the outside, maybe it seems like it's no big deal. But this is targeted, relentless harassment over the course of months or years, and this is affecting people's livelihood and income and opportunities as well as their mental health. Even those of my friends who are least bothered by what others think of them are afraid of making a mistake (or being perceived as making a mistake) that will result in their agent being forced to drop them or risk tainting their own reputation. I've heard people saying they're genuinely afraid to succeed because it'll make them a bigger target. After all, authors are generally alone in dealing with this -- they don't have PR teams or social media managers. If you harass an author online, 99 times out of 100, it's the author who will read it. And it's the author who will respond, and have their statement torn to shreds because nothing is ever good enough, so more and more people just stay silent and submit to whatever the internet wants to inflict on them.

It's messed up. So many of us joined Twitter to find writing communities and now they've become unbearable. My writing chat constantly talks about what we'll do when/if this happens to one of us. And it hits marginalised authors hardest, especially those who don't have supportive offline communities and who rely heavily on social media for friends and connections. It terrifies me, as someone hoping to make a career in writing, to think of putting myself in the line of fire like this, just by virtue of writing YA. I'm very isolated in real life, and rely heavily on social media for community and interaction. If I leave, or all my friends have to leave ... where do I go? What's left for us?

I hope this is just a temporary phase and that the internet becomes kinder again, because the alternative is that writers lose their communities and connections, and all the nice, kind readers lose their interactions with authors entirely. Or else everybody's mental health continues to deteriorate and good people quit writing altogether.

Anyway, if you haven't been following this, check out Nicole Brinkley's essay, "Did Twitter Break YA?" which kickstarted this current conversation, and Adrienne Young's Instagram Stories about this. Because this has been building for a while and authors have been talking about it in group chats for ages but it feels like only recently has anyone really felt like they can talk about it out loud. And this conversation needs to trigger change, because this current situation is hurting people, and it isn't sustainable.

[57greenstreet]

Gossip Guy podcast with Willem De Schryver

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yYjtRYOGS00

translated by @jackfrostsander @bruisingknees @lblogss @yousmina and me :)

-

E: I do have another present for you.

W: Oei oei oei, presents.

E: I do that every week. I give something to my guest of the week.

W: Oei oei oei. Do I slide it?

E: Here in the front is a flap that you have to fold upwards…

[Intro]

E: Wassup people, welcome to a new episode of the Gossip Guy podcast. My name is Ender Scholtens and today I’m here with Willem De Schryver. Everything ok?

W: Sure sure (In Dutch sure is used as a confirmation to a question).

E: Is this your first podcast?

W: Yes, this is my first podcast.

E: Stress?

W: No, it will be fine, right? Relaxed.

E: I don’t know… (laughing). For the people who don’t recognize you, from where could they know you?

W: Hmmm, probably from the youth series WTFOCK where, in the third season, I play the role of Sander.

E: And we are allowed to talk about it in this podcast.

W: Yeah I also heard that. Yes, it’s over.

E: Was it a difficult chapter of your life to close?

W: Yes, I still clearly remember the last moment… Like really the last last scene at the sea… That was an emotional moment because you went through a lot as a group, you did a lot together, and emotional scenes, intimate scenes. But yes, I think, if I speak for the whole group that it was a goodbye to the series but not a goodbye from each other. We still keep in contact. Mainly through WhatsApp.

E: Yeah, the end of the series was beautiful. I sat next to my girlfriend when it just came online. Because there were a few scenes that we hadn’t seen yet and we were just watching them… And we refreshed and the last episode was online… The last piece was online… So, I thought… I really cried… It caused quite some emotions.

W: For many people… Also under the cast and even the extras that were present for that last scene… Even among them. I can remember that they got emotional because it really was over over. I think that we, WTFOCK, have been able to impact a lot of young people in Belgium. So, it’s beautiful… We closed it beautifully…

E: I don’t doubt that. I really liked the end. What is your favorite memory from your whole WTFOCK experience?

W: Hoh, hmmm. Do I have to choose one? Difficult to choose one… I think that the most enjoyable moments… At the end of each series… Almost… We were at the sea or in the Ardennes, as a group, for a vacation. Away together. And those moments… Away with the whole cast and crew… Being away for a whole weekend. And in the evening, talking late into the night and that creates a special connection and I think that, in general, was the most enjoyable… Yes, it affects me… You share, as a young person, a common dream or something we want to realize as an actor to succeed and everyone who works so hard for that… That’s nice to see.

E: I recently talked to Veerle and I know that if she sees Nora, like somewhere, say at a party… Then they stay together for the whole evening… Do you have that? With who did you have the best connection throughout that whole experience?

W: Yes…

E: That doesn’t mean that the rest is not chill or so…

W: No the rest is all stupid… There’s only one person… I hate you all! (joking) No! Yes, hmmm, I think that I definitely have the best connection with Willem. Just because we have been through a lot… I always compare the WTFOCK crew a bit to my own friend group, aside from the cast. I mean, I know to whom I can go for what. I know I can go to some if I feel sad, to talk and I know who I can go to to have a laugh. And who I can go to to have a general chat. And everyone has their qualities or like their own aura around them… Where I love to hang around. So, it differs from person to person. So, it’s hard to choose one person but Willem then in the sense that, if you jump naked together in a swimming pool and if you have intimate scenes together… That creates a connection, of course. So, yes, if I have to choose one person…

E: Is there a barrier that you have to overcome to play such scenes? Because they are very intimate, indeed. And I, personally, couldn’t imagine… I can’t act… But, to empathize with a role… To play such scenes… Is that difficult for you?

W: Huh, yes, that’s a question I get often. I mean like… Yeah and you have to empathize with that character… But yes, you step into that project with a certain professionalism and you say “okay, we are going to create a story and bring it to the public with certain values and that we want to tell something and show something” …So, yes, you don’t really think about it. So, it’s not like I thought “Ooooo, I am kissing with a boy but I am interested in girls”. That was not a problem for me because it really is about telling the story and making that together and if the story requires that then you just completely go for it.

E: That’s cool. What are your future acting ambitions? You now have played in a series, is that something you want to do more in the future or do you like theatre more or movie or…

W: I find it difficult to choose between theatre and film, for example. After WTFOCK I played in Déjà Vu, which you can see on Streamz and later this year on Channel 4… And I study theatre at KASK. And I notice the difference, due to the recordings, I am really in the field and I am busy and I work, while at school I learn new things about theatre… So, in my opinion I have more experience in television work because I actually have done projects for that and I haven’t yet for theatre, which is still school and learning. So, I think it’s currently hard to choose but I think, maybe it’s a cliché answer, but the combination is maybe ideal, of course. But I am still exploring and I will see how it goes…

7:02

E: What is your favorite food?

W: My favorite food?

E: Yes.

W: Hmmmm, in the past I was really a basic guy… Like spaghetti bolognese or so… But now, generally after my exams, I go to a restaurant with my grandma. She always buys. That’s always amazing. I am a fan. And I always take steak tartare with fries. That remains a bit of a guilty pleasure.

E: How long, do you think, would it take you to eat five full plates of spaghetti bolognese?

W: Hoh, hmmm. The thing is, my stomach is rather small…

E: Small?

W: I think that I would have to schedule in… Okay, after a certain time I would have to throw up and then eating further…

E: You’re allowed to take a break. You’re allowed to say… Okay, I take a few days…

W: No, no, not that…

E: You’re going to do it in a day?

W: Look, two plates… Three if I really push…

E: You get preparation time so you know like a week before… So, you can like…

W: Train yourself?

E: Yes, train…

W: Hoh, alee say about four hours…

E: Four hours?! Five plates, he? Like five really big plates…

W: Yeah but yeah, four minutes… I am exaggerating… Let’s say a day… In a day five plates…

E: Ok, that should work. Then you basically have every meal… Breakfast… Lunch… Dinner… and in between… pasta…

W: Pasta as breakfast…

E: One day should definitely be feasible.

W: Yes, indeed.

8:49

E: What is, according to you, the reason you were placed on this planet?

W: Fuck (laughs).

E: Existential crisis, okay? Have you never thought about what the purpose of life is and what…

W: Yes, certainly… Hmmm, I'm someone who worries a lot. When I'm in bed in the evening I start to think about questions like that and then I think “what am I doing? Willem… where do I want to go to and…” Hmmm, why was I put on this planet? Hmmmm… (speechless followed by laughing). This is really bad… It’s like I don’t value myself…

E: Noooo, but I didn’t expect a deep philosophical answer. Well, if you had one… really good but…

W: Okay I’m going to think about my philosophical answer… but no. If you want… No! Yes, now I'm really going to sound philosophical but… (crosstalk) Everyone who is on earth has a certain reason to be here and everyone… I for example have that… I really feel that… I never liked going to school. Especially, in lower and high school. I… I actually, on purpose, put my fingers in my throat in the morning to throw up…

E: Wow, that’s heavy…

W: And then going downstairs to say “papa I’m ill, can I stay home?” I don’t know why but that whole system… Sitting behind a desk all day… And those classes… that was not for me. And then I discovered my passion for acting and discovered that it really suited me. And that’s the thing… A lot of people often ask me like “how did you start?” and “I also would like to do that and where do I start and I have been rejected does that mean I am not good enough?” but I think that sometimes you shouldn’t rush to find your passion. It can take longer then you would like it to take. I think that if you too intensively search for "what am I good at?" and “I have to find something that I am good at” and… For me that’s happened unexpectedly. I did take acting classes on Wednesday afternoons after school and I kind of got into it like that… I think it differs for everyone and that everyone has their own purpose here on earth.

E: And would you say your purpose is acting?

W: Yeah…

E: There isn’t a right answer but how does it feel for you at the moment? Is that the thing you love doing the most or do you see yourself doing for a long time?

W: The thing is… I’m a person who gets tired of things very quickly. I’ve had a lot of hobbies.

E: So maybe next week you want to garden or something?

W: No, no I wouldn’t say that. No the thing is, with acting that isn’t the case. Since I was twelve… well first on amateur level…

E: How old are you now?

W: 19.

E: Oh wow I thought you were my age. 19… damn bro you’re three years younger than me.

W: 2001 represent.

E: That’s literally… you’re the same age as my brother! What the shit. Alright, no okay.

W: In November so almost 2002. I’m really a latecomer.

E: What?! You look like you’re the same age as me and everything.

12:14

W: But that’s honestly – thank you for saying that! I always used to be the “little guy.” None of the girls wanted to be with me cause they just thought I was cute.

E: I see.

W: And they came to me to talk about their love lives.

E: Oh, okay.

W: So I was always that guy who was like: “I’m in love with you.” “Oh, how cute! You’re so cute!” So I was always like: “Okay then, I’m never going to find anyone, I’m always going to stay… short. I’ll be all alone.” And then all of a sudden I –

E: Do you think height matters in regard to your chances with certain… people?

W: At this age I don’t think it does anymore, but I do think that – I think at – I just remember in high school that the romantic idea of what love was supposed to look like was very: a boy and a girl, and the boy has to be taller and stronger and bigger than the girl. But I think that now it’s more… I mean, at my age I’m convinced it’s more fluid than that, and it doesn’t have to be that way. So it doesn’t have to be an issue anymore.

E: But still, when you go on Twitter, short guys are still –

W: Yeah.

E: Totally annihilated.

W: I have notice – I have noticed – Yeah, it’s still… It’s still this… general thing that people get stuck on. Like: “Oh, a short dude. That’s not okay.” Or whatever.

E: Or like the guy has to be taller. But no, we’re – we’re – not… not all relationships… we’re really generalizing here. But I get what you mean.

W: Yeah.

E: No, it’s – I do think it’s still important. I think that when you’re, and this is really harsh, but that a lot of people look at you differently when you’re taller. I have this dude in my friend group, Louis Ledegen, and he’s close to 2 meters tall, and just some girls look at him and they just think that’s so… attractive or whatever. And I just can’t even imagine.

W: I don’t get that either.

E: That that makes them go like: “Wow!”

W: I was in the train just now and this dude walked by me and he was honestly like 2 meters tall and I was just thinking: “When you’re that tall, and you’re with…” I mean, the girl almost has to get on a stepping stool to reach him for a kiss! And girls are like – I mean, I’ve heard before that girls think it’s attractive when a man is really tall.

E: Yeah.

W: And yeah, I don’t know… I don’t totally get it.

E: No.

W: Maybe it’s cause I’m not that tall myself, that I’m like trying to protect myself and be all: “That’s not necessary!”

E: Yeah! If anybody knows the answer, do we, being shorter guys, have less of a chance?

W: Let us know, please.

14:53

E: Please let us know! We need some answers! Now in the show, wtFOCK, your hair’s a different color.

W: Yeah.

E: Yeah. Is that something… So that was actually – it wasn’t really blonde?

W: It was completely bleached.

E: Bleached.

W: It was more to the… But the thing is that they had to do it twice, cause the first time… I got there, for the first table read with the director and Willem [Herbots] and they were like: “Hey, Willem. We wanted to ask you something. We’d like to bleach your hair for the role.”

E: Yeah.

W: And I was like: “… Okay.”

E: Okay.

W: “And why?” No. “Just for the character and stuff.” So I was like: “Okay. That’s fine.” The thing is I had to be at the hairdresser for 4 hours for this.

E: Oh wow, heavy.

W: It was like this and this product, and it had to sit for a long time. It had to be bleached all over. And I got out of there the first time and I was completely yellow – but yellow like an egg.

E: Oh, shit!

W: And I… My mom dropped me off, and I texted her: “I’m done, will you come get me?” And I saw my mom approach and she just passed me by.

E: Oh wow.

W: She didn’t – she almost didn’t recognize me anymore. Like halfway - she was like – and then she was like: “Oh! Willem!” Like she hadn’t seen –

E: Oh shit.

W: That it was me. That I looked completely different. And then I arrived for another table read and Tom [Goris – director] was like: “Yeah… We’re not gonna go this route… This is too yellow.” So then I spent another 4 hours at the hairdresser. After that I had to be there for four hours almost every month. I did think it was cool to have bleached hair, but… You have to be at the hairdresser for so long, so that really wasn’t… my thing. I mean, I had some really cool moments with Mitch [Fabry – hair & make up wtFOCK]. Thanks, Mitch.

E: Would you ever dye your hair again?

W: Uhm.

E: Maybe another color?

W: Yeah, I don’t think so. I’m quite happy with my hair color, actually, I don’t know.

E: Alright.

W: Now it’s also like… Everyone always asks me: “So this is your natural hair color?”

E: Yeah.

W: And then I have to tell them: “Yeah.” And it’s like: “Oh, okay!” It’s this switch. But no, I’m happy with my hair. It’s fine.

17:03

E: I can also tell that you’ve got an earring? You can’t really tell on camera, but –

W: I’ll come a little closer [to the camera]. Yeah, I only got it recently, four weeks or something.

E: Yeah. Was it an impulsive, drunken decision, or something you wanted… for some time?

W: I’ve wanted it for a long time, but I was a little anxious about it like: “It’s not gonna look good on me,” and then after a while, a couple of months ago, I was like: “Fuck it, I’m just gonna do it.” And if it didn’t look good I could still just take it out, so it doesn’t really matter. But all in all I was pretty happy with it. My father, my parents – my mom: “Oh, so nice!!” And it was like – at first they give you a stud and then after four weeks you can change it to a hoop. And I really wanted a hoop, and I even asked the people in the (piercing) shop: “Can’t I please just get a hoop straight away?” And they were like: “No, sorry, it doesn’t work like that. For hygiene reasons that’s not okay.”

E: Okay.

W: But okay, so I had to wait four weeks and then eventually I could change it to the golden hoop. So I get home and the first thing my father said was: “Wow, you look like a douchebag.” That was the first thing out of his mouth, that I looked like a douchebag.

E: Is that the look you were going for?

W: No, not at all! Not at all!

E: I think it looks cool.

W: Thanks.

E: Cause a little while ago I wanted one, and so I put on my girlfriend’s earring – because even if your ear isn’t pierced it sticks a little –

W: Yeah.

E: And so I just put it on there for a day or something, and then I was like: “Okay, that’s quite enough.” I don’t know if I’d want it for longer than that. Recently I’ve been getting into rings and stuff though.

W: I wore rings for a long time, but I don’t have any anymore. I actually want – I like them too. But I have to –

18:47

E: If I’d known, I would’ve brought you a gift!

W: Go shopping. Goddamn!

E: I did bring you another gift though!

W: Another gift? Oei oei oei, gifts!

E: This is something I do every week,  I give my guest of the week something.

W: Oei oei oei. 

E: It’s just…

W: Do I just slide it –

E: There’s a little hatch over here, that you have to lift, and then you can just lift it like that. There we go.

W: There we go.

E: White hairspray.

W: If I’d want to go back to – there we have it. Too good.

E: It can be washed out really easily as well. So this way you don’t have to be at the hairdresser for like four hours. And then when you’re sick of it, you can just get rid of it again!

W: That was the thing… Thank you, by the way.

E: You’re very welcome.

W: Now I can go back – Now I can go back to my past life. No, that was the thing as well. People who – people who - after wtFOCK came online, people really recognized me with the white hair. I mean, it’s pretty noticeable, when I’m walking through Ghent station – if someone with bleached hair. I mean, if you watch the show, I can imagine that when you see someone with bleached hair, you immediately connect the two and think: “Oh, that could be him.” And then you run in to some people who ask for pictures. After that my hair was really short, cause the people from Déja-Vu were like: “We’re not gonna do this, just go back to your natural hair color.” So I cut it all off, and there was this time where… nobody came to talk to me anymore. I was able to just be myself again. It was as if – looking back on it, it was actually really nice that for wtFOCK I was able to completely get into a different character with different hair. And the first time I got rid of the hair I really noticed that was no longer being associated with the character.

E: Hannah Montana vibes! Your hair changes color and nobody knows who you are anymore.

W: “Who are you?”

E: “Who the fuck are you?!”

W: “Does anybody want to take pictures with me? It’s me! It’s me! I swear!”

E: “I’m that dude from wtFOCK! I’m that dude from wtFOCK!”

W: So if people don’t recognize me anymore I can just… *pshhht* in the morning.

E: Exactly! If you want to take some more pictures, you can just…

W: No, no. That’s fine. No, yeah.

E: It’s kind of crazy, actually. Because, honestly? The very first time I saw a flash of you, with this hair color, I also thought: “I recognize you from somewhere…” But I think I’d already gotten in contact with you through social [media] and I didn’t put two and two together that you…

W: Yeah.

E: “Aaah!”

W: “Aaah! You’re that guy!”

E: Yeah, so…

W: But that’s the whole thing. If someone recognizes me, which doesn’t happen that often by the way, it’s always – I think it’s funny to be like: “No, that’s not me.”

E: No.

W: People really start doubting themselves, it’s very: “Uhm, can I ask you a question? Are you that guy from wtFock?” “Me? No.”

E: “No!”

W: “That’s not me.” And people will often be like: “Oh? What? But I recognize you…” That doubt on their faces is pretty funny but yeah, then I tell them it’s me.

E: Just the reaction of someone being like: “Huh, do I know you from somewhere?” “Do you watch porn?”

W: The confrontation.

E: “Oh… qmdkjg.” And it’d be even better if the parents were right there as well. “Argh!”

W: “Yes, Jürgen, care to explain yourself, young man?”

E: No, it’s just funny to joke about. But you’ve never – Do you just get: “Hey, are you that guy from wtFOCK?” Or have people also asked you: “Do I know you from somewhere?” Or: “What do I know you from?”

W: Yeah, it depends. The thing is – I go to school in Ghent and when the [popular place where college students go out] was still open before Covid-19, not that I went there often because I didn’t really like it there –

E: No.

W: - in the sense that the combination of young people who –

E: Watch wtFOCK.

W: - watch wtFOCK and alcohol – and people who’ve had alcohol to drink –

E: And are horny?

W: - their limits or boundaries are just gone. “Oh my god!!! You’re that dude from wtFOCK!! Can I kiss you??” Things like that!

E: Oh, fuck!

W: And I was really like: “Okay…?” I’m just a regular dude and I’m trying – and I actually thought it was less annoying for myself, but I thought it was more disruptive for my friends. Like even when we were just walking down the street, we got recognized a couple of times, and I was just like: I just want to have fun with my friends, and not have to spend too much time thinking. That’s another thing I was subconsciously thinking about. Imagine I drink way too much.

E: Yeah.

W: And I end up in the gutter somewhere, and people start filming that… So yeah, that made… So because of that I spent more time in friends’ dorm rooms just having dorm parties.

E: And since your bleached hair is gone, have you gone to a party?

W: When my bleached hair was gone corona was already a thing so I haven’t been able to enjoy it. But it’s starting to come back [the parties] so that’s nice. I’m looking forward to… tomorrow I’m going-

E: Are you going as well?

W: Are you going to Plein Air by Fuse?

E: Tomorrow I’m going to Jaimie Lee who-

W: …Is going to DJ at three festivals.

E: Yeah at three festivals and I will be backstage I guess.

W: Okay.

E: One of those festivals?

W: Yeah I don’t know. I have tickets for Fuse Open Air in Brussels.

24:19

E: I honestly have no idea where I’m going. Anyway, I’m excited. And I always asked, what’s the first event you went to ever since it’s allowed? Did you go to We Can Dance festival?

W: No I was studying.

E: Was today your last exam or yesterday?

W: Yesterday was my last exam in the morning. I was stressing so much, because I thought I would fail, but eventually I think it went relatively well. If you’re watching professors, let me pass please. No I think it went well.

E: Are you someone who is stress resistant?

W: Uhh no.

E: No?

W: I let it take over my body.

E: You get physically unwell?

W: I will be laying in bed and I’m tossing and turning and sweating. And I think about how I’m not gonna pass tomorrow. And the combination with my worries is really not good. It makes me stay up really late. The thing is with stress resistant, I for example made my own play at high school about a kid with divorced parents for my final work and the whole audience was filled with my family and my parents. That’s pretty confronting to tell a story that’s also a little bit of their life and is pretty personal. I’m always stressed for things like that. Then it’s weird – from the first word I spoke I had a lot of stress and worries and the first sentence that I said was something like “I don’t know what to do”, and then it’s all of a sudden poofff. The train has left.

E: You said you didn’t really know what to do now.

W: That’s the first sentence of the text that I wrote and the moment I said that sentence I thought in my head “the train has left, there’s no way back now” and then the stress disappears automatically. But before the final rehearsal there was a moment that I was moving around heavily and I was throwing with chairs. And afterwards I had to pack moving boxes, which was okay. But from moving around and the combination of stress it made me almost gag in the box from the stress so I almost puked. So at these moments it gets pretty heavy.

E: Did other people notice or were you hiding it?

W: Yeah the final rehearsal was luckily not with an audience, but my teachers were like “Everything alright?” and I was like “Yeah I’m good. It’s a bit much”. But when it comes to stress, a lot of people always say – I’m even a little stressed right now actually.

E: Really?

W: Podcasts, oh no no.

E: Oh shit. You have to be (stressed)

W: A lot of pressure on my shoulder here. No, but a lot of people say that it doesn’t look like that I’m stressed even though I really am dying from all the stress.

E: Only now you can hide it really well. You should become an actor.

W: A lot of people have said that to me often, but it’s not my interest. Also not much work in the field.

E: That too, fuck. Are you someone who constantly pretends like you’re okay?

W: Yes.

E: Even when you have a lot of shit going on in your head and you’re processing other things?

W: I'm one person. One person?

E: "I'm one person" [laughs]

W: I am one person. No, but I'm someone who often keeps their stuff to themselves, so that I can listen to what others need.

28:15

E: That was my next question. You listen more to other people’s problems and you’re the person people come to with their problems?

W: I think, at least I hope, that a lot of my friends do know that they can always come to me for a talk or a phone call. I'm someone that will shove away their happiness for someone else, which isn’t always positive of course.

E: It is a beautiful characteristic, but it shouldn’t take over indeed.

W: In the past it has happened that I was falling apart, but I kept pushing it away, because I wanted to take care of someone else. I noticed this a lot during the divorce of my parents. My parents had a hard time with the divorce and I remember that I came home as a little boy and I saw my mom sitting and I felt the duty to comfort her and to be there for her, even though I was 8 or 9 years old. That’s not something you expect to do or think from an 8 year old. It really broke me and now I can openly speak about it, because I have had enough conversations with my parents about it, about how it was for me. And I made a play about it, as I told earlier, so it’s been a whole process and that has scarred me till at least my 16th. My parents got divorced when I was 5 or 6 years old. It took me a long time to open up because of that. I notice it a lot in previous relationships, that I walk away from fights, because I would find the confrontation too heavy to get into a fight and to discuss. The divorce and fights with my parents scarred me so hard that I didn’t want that again. I wanted everything to be rainbow and sunshine, but life doesn’t work like that. And that was partly a misconception from me, that I thought that a relationship had to be perfect, if there is a fight, then it’s not going well. Now I realize that fights are part of a relationship. And also part of steps you take into accepting each other, listening to each other and understanding each other. It’s needed for a stronger connection. You can’t, well you can, but in my eyes you can’t be with someone for a long time without ever having had a conflict. Even if it’s a discussion, because then you’re adapting too much to the other, and then you say okay, I’m adapting to the demands of her and I suppress my own things or things I want to do, only to avoid the discussion, and that’s something I learned. And that’s how everyone learns their own things along the way.

E: You still see it in the youth, those romantic movies, where everyone is so in love and it always ends with a kiss or something and it’s always good and then you think, this must be the case in real life. Why can’t I find Gabriella Montez for my Troy Bolton. Even though that was a shitty relationship too, they were constantly fighting. No, but that gives a wrong image about relationships and for other things because of movies. And the reality is just different.

32:16

W: Yes. I recently for the first time -this is kinda embarrassing because it’s a must see- watched The Notebook.

E: Me too! What did you think?

W: It has been a few weeks ago. Or a few weeks, maybe 3 or something.

E: I watched it last weekend.

W: I almost cried.

E: Really?

W: I’m a really emotional person. I can really cry. I can really get lost in a movie. “No not the puppy, why?!” Those things, where I think "Willem, act normal". But no it was a beautiful movie.

E: Yeah I have a different opinion, because I just fell asleep. I fell asleep, because it all went so slow, it started so slow. I didn’t even watch the kiss in the rain scene.

W: The moment. It’s in literally every romantic movie. In the rain, it happens everywhere.

Ender: Yeah mate, it’s such a cliché actually, but yeah.

W: I bet you that they’re just standing there with a garden hose.

E: Definitely.

W: It can’t be that they’re waiting, “is it gonna rain today? We need to do that scene now”.

33:27

E: Checking the rain alarm while everyone is inside. There are definitely sprinklers there. It’s in a lot of romantic movies. Now that we’re talking about it, the filming you did with wtFock, you sometimes had scenes outside. Here we have those (light) spots, I assume that you don’t carry them outside. How do you guys do that?

W: Sometimes we do have spots outside, but as long as the light from the sun is okay – with a binocular (telescope), well it’s not a binocular, it’s a round thing you can look through and with it they can determine the brightness of the sun and if the sun is too bright for the lightning they need, then it gets shielded, the same that is in front of your lamps. With that they can dim the lights. Or when there is not enough they use isomo plates, that’s really weird. Sometimes there are really intimate scenes in a series where it looks like it’s really close to the skin of the actors. There is a camera with a plate on it and a stick for the sound above it, it sometimes made it really hard for me to focus, because everyone is sitting there and the director and I’m like “yeah, okay okay”. So it takes a lot to get it all professional.

E: Was there a crazy moment where you forgot your lines? That you’re laying in bed and you’re like “which sentence do I have to say now?”

W: Yeah we’ve definitely had a lot of bloopers. Yeah forgetting lines or.. the thing is, as long as the director doesn’t say cut, you have to keep going. It’s a matter of "how do I improvise myself around this scene to get to the point we actually have to get to", because you have a scene and you have your lines, but if you forget something, then you do know the main lines of where the scene has to go to. You know the scene will end in a kiss or something and these subjects will be spoken about in the conversation, so when you forget your lines, you try to work your way through it as best as possible. And when the director says it wasn’t good, then we’ll do it again. I’ve had a lot of moments where I forgot my lines and I was laying in bed with Willem and we would look at each other and we’d know that I had to say something, but I was stuck, so there would be a 10 seconds silence, hoping for them to say cut. Yeah so those kinds of moments a lot or moments where I… I also had that with Déjà Vu. I remember… by the way it was amazing to work together with such big names as Natali Broods and Koen De Graeve. And Koen, lovely person, was kind of the father figure on set and we had a scene, next to the bed, a quite emotional scene. And the camera was focused on me, close up on my face. And I still remember that, the sound was going, everything, and Koen had just told a joke, or made a face that made me laugh. So, I had to laugh really hard, but I had to act very sad. It was an intense scene of goodbyes. All the time, starting to laugh about everything. I still remember for wtFock we made a video with bloopers and those are very fun to watch back.

37:03

E: Are those bloopers ever published somewhere online?

W: I don’t think so.

E: I think if you’d be able to release them somewhere that a lot of people would be interested in them.

W: Yes, yes. I don’t know why, indeed. The fans would be happy with those.

E: I think a lot of people- because we were just talking about your biggest fan.

W: My biggest-

E: Your grandma.

W: My grandma, yes. Big shout out to my grandma.

E: Do you think she’s watching right now?

W: She’ll definitely watch, I hope so.

E: What’s your grandma’s name?

W: Micheline.

E: Micheline, thank you very much for watching Micheline.

W: Micheline.

E: I appreciate it.

W: Women in power. She deserves a special place. No really, she follows all the fan accounts of wtFock. And then sometimes, or very often, we call and she gives me an update of what’s being said on the internet. Or yes, I also remember, when scenes come out and there’s things being said and she’s like "Willem, is that true, what are they saying?" And I say "Grandma, it’s nothing, it’s all from the show." "Ah okay, okay." So yes, very sweet grandma. She’s like the grandma where everything was allowed. I think that’s the same for everyone. At home, there are a lot of rules, and then you got to sleepover at your grandma’s and it was like: "Oh, I get to stay up later, and she made pudding for me." Her vanilla pudding-

E: That good?

W: Grandma, if you’re seeing this, please make some vanilla pudding when I visit.

E: Dude, everything’s falling out of my pocket.

W: You’re letting everything fall out of your pocket? Maybe you need to buy another pair of pants.

E: The chair is too comfortable that I’m kind of sinking in it, and now I constantly get-

W: The conversation’s too comfortable-

E: It’s just my phone, it’s vibrating, I think it just vibrated out of my pocket. So, silent, great. Eh, what were we talking about? About your grandma.

W: About my grandma.

38:46

E: Now, totally different subject. If you were a fish, what color fish would you be?

W: A fish?

E: Which color do you identify most with?

W: Eh.

E: And you’re a fish too of course.

W: Identify with which color. The thing is, I’m in the scouts. And in the Jins, that’s the last year before you become a leader, we were given a color totem, and the whole group decided on a color that fits you.

E: All right.

W: And mine was mango orange.

E: Wow, that’s cool.

W: Yeah, I thought it was cool too. And it means, if I have to think back, mango has quite a hard peel, relatively, but the fruit itself is quite soft. And that refers to my personality. I’m someone that lets people in fast, around me, but in the beginning, suspicion is a little strong, but kind of like, testing. Let’s say that. But once- From the outside I might look a bit hard. A lot of people say that when I have my straight face-

E: Resting bitch face.

W: That I’m angry. I was once told on the subway by a dude, and I was just listening to music, staring in the distance, and I think, suddenly a dude comes up to me, in French: "C’est quoi ton problème, heh, tu regardes come ça, c’est quoi ton problème." And I was like: "I’m sorry". Apparently, I was looking in his direction with my-

E: Bitch face.

W: Bitch face. He must have thought I was looking for problems. So yeah, that’s why the mango, a little hard on the outside, but once you get to know me better, a soft, sweet boy. So that’s why, orange. So, an orange fish then.

E: A little bit of Nemo vibes.

W: Yes, Nemo then. But let’s, what’s that theory. Did you hear that?

E: Theory?

W: About Nemo.

E: What’s the theory?

W: Haven’t you heard that? I keep seeing that online. I’m having a crisis. So the thing is, your childhood will get ruined.

E: Fuck man.

W: The thing is-

E: But there really are, no keep going, I have something I want to say afterwards.

W: The thing is, I’ve heard, that Nemo is Latin for nobody, and that the father is imagining that he still has an egg left, but that that fish doesn’t actually exist.

E: Oh fuck.

W: And that Dory joins him, and he sees, we’re actually not looking for anyone, but because he has memory issues, he constantly forgets that they’re not looking for anyone. So, they’re actually looking for nobody. And I saw that online and I was like.

E: Damn, so all the eggs are eaten, but he imagines that someone still has to be there.

W: Yes, something to keep living for.

E: Fuck man, that’s very brutal. That’s very fucked up.

W: Sorry to everyone for who Nemo is ruined now.

E: There’s a similar theory about Phineas and Ferb, and then Candice, their sister, is based on a true story about a girl that lost her brothers and still imagines that they're still doing stuff in the garden. And she keeps telling her mom: "Look, look, they are still here, they’re doing that." And that the mom says: "They’re not there." And that’s why she can never see that. You get it? Brutal right?

W: My whole childhood is ruined. Fucking hell.

E: That’s going to be the title of this podcast.

W: Childhood ruined.

E: We’re ruining your childhood.

42:17

W: We’re ruining your childhood. No but that’s good because, thankfully, I have a half-sister, but I say sister because I think half-sister is an ugly word, of seven years old. She thinks she’s 16. She’s a real diva.

E: Oh wow, okay.

W: She’s very, I’ll tell you a story later, but the thing is, I experience all those things with her again. In the beginning it was like, turning the tv on, Bumba, again. And I could secretly watch with her without feeling guilty. I was like, I’m watching Bumba and secretly I’m enjoying it, but sssh, I’m just watching it with my sister.

E: That exactly.

W: And now it’s Ketnet, like Hoodie, those series that she’s watching. And yes, I notice that because of all the technology today, she has an iPad, she’s on YouTube, she’s watching those self-made crafts.

E: 7 years old?

W: 7 years old, yes.

E: Wow.

W: She watches those- where people are playing with Barbies and they make a little play with them online on YouTube and they do stuff. Yes, a tablet. She has an iPad that’s bigger than her head. That makes me think- well, an iPad is usually bigger than everyone’s head. Or well, almost.

E: Not if you have a mini of course.

W: Her head isn’t that big.

E: Okay.

W: She’s on it a lot though. But she’s a real diva. I think the best story I have, there’s multiple. I remember the story, we were sitting at the table and she was having another moment of "I’m the princess, and everyone can leave because I do what I want and fuck you all". But the thing is, there’s five kids at home. I have a brother and two stepbrothers. So, she has four brothers, and she knows very well that she has four brothers. And that makes her feel even more like she’s the princess at home. So, we were sitting at the table. And she kept staring at my dad like this while throwing her cutlery on the ground. Like "what are you going to do". And my dad was like: "Liv," because her name is Liv by the way, "stop that."

E: That wasn’t nice of Liv. (Liv sounds the same as lief which means nice in Dutch.)

W: No. Not nice of-

E: Haha. Sorry.

W: Badam pam ts. Can’t we put that under here. Yes.

E: No, sorry, keep going.

W: So, he was like: "Liv, stop that, stop that." He started to get annoyed, because she kept going. "Liv, what is so hard to understand about no." And then it got silent at the table so I thought, okay, it’s done. The o.

E: Oh wow.

W: 7 years old and she drops that.

E: Oh wow.

W: And I thought, okay.

E: Damn bro.

W: The o. That she even dares to say that. Yeah, and she has those moments. She was sitting at the table, with her mask on, eating. So, she pulled her mask down to eat, and then she was chewing with her mask on. And then I asked: "Liv, why are you wearing your mask?" "Yes, you came back from Ghent, you’re not in my bubble."

E: Okay, okay.

W: So, then I said: "Okay, that’s fine." It’s crazy how that goes around among young children. Because my sister came back home from school crying once. And I asked her: ‘Liv, what’s wrong?’ "Yes, my friends didn’t let me play with them." So, I was like: "Why?" "Margot says I’m not allowed in her bubble."

E: Oh wow.

W: See, that’s becoming the new- we played with Pokémon cards on the playground and now it’s about playing games in bubbles because it’s so-

E: Damn.

W: Yes, you’re only allowed to have four people in your bubble so we don’t play with more than four.

E: Oh wow.

W: So I found that kind of crazy, or confronting that it made me think like, even at such a young age it has an impact. And I know that the-

E: That it leaves an impression.

W: Yes, and I know that my dad-

E: It’s sad that children have to think about it.

W: Yes, exactly.

E: Well, it’s not that- everyone should think about it of course.

W: Yes, yes, of course. It’s also that I know the way my dad feels about raising, that he tells Liv straight up about things that are happening in the world. He doesn’t make things seem nicer, or saying, eh, yes, no, but that’s- The classic story of how babies are made, with the cauliflowers, and what not.

E: I also just think-

W: How am I going to explain that to my kids?

E: If you don’t make it a taboo to start with, is it that bad? It’s just- it’s just. Oh well, that’s a whole other conversation.

W: Yes, no, definitely.

E: But straight up just telling what’s going on to your kids. I think I would prefer that to making up a story about the flowers and the bees.

W: Yes, yes.

E: Because the story about the flowers and the bees, I don’t even know how you actually- pollinating and stuff, is that what that means?

W: You do it like this, pollinating.

E: Yes, no, exactly.

W: Yes, but well, children, that’s still a long time from now.

E: Do you want kids, you think, later?

W: Yes, please.

E: Do you think you would be a good father?

W: I hope I would be a good father. Despite my parents’ divorce, I really do… I do look up to my parents. I’m proud of the way they raised me. So yeah if I would be a good father… sometimes, but maybe that’s the age, kids frustrate me. I’m a leader in the scouts for the Welpen and Welpen -great guys- but they can also be annoying and say “I’m not participating” and “that’s a stupid game, can we do something else?” and I’m like “we invest so much time in this and so much preparation, please participate” so sometimes that bothers me. But I would prefer not to have just one (child). Certainly more than one because… are you an only child?

E: No I have a little brother.

W: Yeah only child… with all due respect to people who are only children but sometimes I think… for example, I’m very happy that I have a brother. Not that it wouldn’t be fun without a brother per se, but I don’t know, the contact I have with my brother is nice.

E: The thing is, you don’t know what you’re missing so it’s hard to miss it I guess. But I do think that my brother has been a great added value to my life.

W: Yeah, yeah.

E: In the same way, I never really had grandparents. They all died before I was born and the grandfather I did have was quite old when I was actually aware that I had a grandfather. So I’ve never really had the grandparents experience that you see with family gatherings and stuff. But I don’t feel like I’ve missed anything but I still know how much other people benefit from having grandparents. Also what you just said about how often you call each other and stuff. I think that’s the same with being an only child. If you don’t have any brothers or sisters, you don’t know what it’s like to have that, what you’re missing. But if you do have it, it’s an added value I think.

W: Yes, exactly. No that’s true. My brother is very helpful to me now. I know that I can count on him.

E: Older or younger by the way?

W: Older.

E: A lot older?

W: 21.

E: 21.

W: Oh boy I had to think about how old my brother is. Embarrassing. Love you man. No but we had - maybe you had that too – but when we were younger, we really fought.

E: Physical?

W: Real fighting. Yeah, it’s has now gotten much better. I think we understand each other a lot better, but it used to be real… we had Catch WW on the Wii and we reenacted that on the couch so that was… “In the right corner Ramy Stereo” and we were bare-chested and both had one boxing glove on and fighting each other until one of us cried, bled or gave up. Usually it was me.

E: That’s just the fate of the little brother.

W: I always went… I’ve never admitted that actually, [whispers] it’s a confession. I’ve never admitted it, but afterwards I always went to my parents and cried “Kwinten hurt me”.

E: That’s really… that’s the moment, you feel it coming and you think “ah fuck no, if I hit again it’s probably over but I want to…” [cross-talk] “no no no don’t tell mom! Don’t tell mom!” I think I was a pretty nice big brother. We often did shit together. We were at home playing on the couch together and Olaf bumps into a large box that was standing there and the box, bigger than Olaf back then, fell down on his hand.

W: Oh shit.

E: So Olaf broke his hand. And I thought “I made him jump over those chairs” and then you have to say “sorry sorry don’t tell them, don’t tell them!” but yeah if your hand is fucking broken, you’re not gonna stop crying because your big brother says “don’t cry”. Yeah, that are…

W: Yes, but the relationship [between Willem and his brother] has improved. Okay we still have our discussions but... I think moments like when we’ve both been to a pub or something and we come home at the same time and we’re always hungry and standing in the kitchen making sandwiches. Those are great moments. I don’t necessarily need to have emotionally heavy of deep conversations with my brother to know that he’s there and that I can have a good time with him. So I think that’s the added value of having a brother or brothers in general.

E: Do you guys also have a specific sense of humor? Or like those moments when the two of you are laughing and your parents or people around you think “what the fuck is going on?”

W: Yeah we speak some slang to each other for fun. Like “stu stu” and [my slang knowledge is very limited so I have no idea what he’s saying here lol], those kinds of things. Typical slang from Brussels and Leuven. It’s funny because my parents are always like “why are you talking to each other like that?” and recently, I was leaving and my mom said “stu stu!” so they are adopting those words and then my brother and I can’t stop laughing.

E: Also if your mom suddenly says “are we going to chill later?” and I’m like [laughing] “what? Mom!”

W: “Okay??”

E: It’s kind of cute. Yeah it’s fun. And what are… I almost want to go deep like…

W: That’s okay.

E: Is there a particular interaction or experience you’ve had with your brother that sums up your relationship right now? Or are those the moments when you’re laughing and eating at night? It doesn’t have to be a super deep or emotional moment.

W: I think it’s an accumulation of those moments and emotional moments too. For example, after it was over with my ex. I was really down back then, it hit me pretty hard. Those are the moments when I can walk into my brother’s room in the middle of the night and he’s there for me. I know that dude is always going to be there when something’s wrong, no matter how much we argue or how much we shit at each other. I just know, and I hope he does too, that I can call him 24/7, walk into his room 24/7 and he will be there or ready to listen. I think that’s just something… the fact that we know that about each other, that creates that bond. And the thing is, if only he would do his best and go to work, earn real money… because we went on holiday together and he still hasn’t… he still has some work to do but we’ve already planned something. I’m really looking forward to it. We’re planning to go surfing in Portugal together. Those are moments I just know I can go somewhere with him and have the time of my life without-

E: …That you can remember for the rest of your life what you did together.

W: Yeah, absolutely. Those moments that I want to cherish or want to keep or experience.

E: My little brother is also just the most annoying dude on this planet who I love the most.

W: Exactly that combination. Annoying, but you love them.

E: Of course. The cameras are back on. That means we’ve been at it for over 50 minutes.

W: 50 minutes? It feels like we’re chatting for 20 minutes.

E: Exactly.

W: Pleasant.

E: That’s good. If it’s pleasant and the stress is gone.

W: Do you actually like me? “No I hate you. We’re going to finish. It has been good.”

55:29

E: No we’re not going to finish yet, but before we do, is there anything you’d like to send out into the world before we finish? On average there are 10 to 50 people watching. Is there anything you want to say to them?

W: To the 10 to 50 people?

E: Yes.

W: 10 to 50 people, you are awesome. No, what I’m saying… maybe a little deep but it doesn’t matter. Very often in your life you are going to encounter that you run into a wall, that you’re going to have setbacks, that you think “I don’t want to anymore, I can’t to this anymore, life is all one big shit show” but I think that there is a certain… at least I believe that – everyone has their own opinion of course- that a certain path has been mapped out for everyone. Not necessarily that things are set in stone but there is a road that you are going to take and that road is going to have curves, is going to have hills, is going to have valleys, is going to have everything. Maybe it’s a gravel path, maybe rocks you stumble over but -it sounds a bit stupid- put on your best walking shoes and just walk that path the best way you can. Just try to live life with complete joy and euphoria because you’re 100% worth it. No matter what other people say or think about your ideology or style or way of life. Everyone is entitled to it or should be given the opportunity to be appreciated for who they are. I think that’s something we do too little in this society, but yeah.

E: Just don’t be too hard on yourself in the end?

W: Yeah, don’t be too hard on yourself. A lot of people blame themselves too much. Or “oh I’m like that and I don’t fit in because of that” or something. Then I think: so be it.

E: Do you sometimes feel that you should do more or have achieved more at this age? Of course you’re already doing a lot of cool shit but social media, I know there is a highlight reel of all people’s achievements and that sometimes it’s very difficult to filter between what is real and how much is that person actually sitting on the couch doing nothing. Do you sometimes feel that because of social media of because of your environment or I don’t know, that you’re not doing enough?

W: Gosh, sometimes I think my life is too full.

E: Too full?

W: Not that I’m saying “oh I have so many things to do” but I’m like... I’m letting that grow organically or so.

E: Not putting too much pressure on yourself?

W: Not putting too much pressure on yourself. I’m doing a course now that I’d like to finish because I’ve had those two projects and there are friends of mine who say “why are you still studying? You’ve had your opportunity, you’re going to get new opportunities right?” and I say “hey! I’m also only 19”. Sometimes I think “fuck Willem you should have achieved more already” but I also think I’m only 19. There was a conversation at school… I really think that’s one of the added values of the course. We receive an observation report twice a year, 5 pages where the teacher writes about you and how they see you, what they think about you, what your qualities are, what you still need to work on. It’s always spot on. So strange how they can just see right through you, even though I sometimes try to hide it. Yeah, where was I going with this… we had subsequent conversation about it and I said to my teacher “sometimes I feel like I’m too young for this course” that I have too little life experience. There are people in my class who are in their 20s or older, who have already studied something else before this, have read a lot more, seen a lot more than me, a lot more experience and I think “fuck, I don’t have anything”. People talk about certain topics and I don’t follow at all. I mentioned that I felt too young and she [the teacher] said “you’re young, but that also has its advantages. Your youthfulness can actually be an interesting tool in this course and look at it from a different perspective”. So I’m convinced: don’t be too hard on yourself, don’t think “whew, I’m already 20 and I haven’t achieved anything yet” so to speak. I even saw a video recently where… “if you don’t make it in your 20s, you might make it in your 30s and if you don’t make it in your 30s, you might make it in your 40s”. There are so many… there really are a lot of people… people often forget that there are people who only find out what they want to do or discover their passion later in life.

E: And also just… I think it’s so ridiculous that you set certain goals for a certain age or something. That it’s so expected that by 18 you must have completed high school and by 25 you must have had your first job interview, by 28/30 you must have a house and a serious relationship where you’re committed to for the rest of your life and by 40 you must have already had a promotion, that you can provide for yourself and fix your pension. All those fucking predetermined milestones. I think that’s kind of bullshit, you know?

W: Absolutely.

E: If that were the case, then I should graduate in a few years so to speak while I’m clearly not studying here because I have – fuck normally I have a re-exam today. And here we are.

W: Here we are.

E: I knew I was doing this but I mean that’s just… there’s so much time. I’m 22 now and I’m doing some shit, if I go nuts now or people don’t want to listen to this podcast anymore, don’t want to see what I do online, okay then I have to look elsewhere. But I did this and I went for it and I tried. I’m 22. Even if I go nuts now and it’s all gone, I’m only 22. There are still so many ways it could go. A lot of people don’t have a job at 22. If I started looking for a new job or something now, hopefully I’ll have one by 25. Then it’s still okay because I’m only 25. I don’t know, I always find that… I could go on for a long time about this. I think those predetermined milestones/goals of things that you must have achieved by a certain age, I just think it’s bullshit.

W: I sometimes make the comparison that people too often see life as the sports world. Football players who are good until 35 and then they are done. As if you must have already performed before that age. That’s not how it works. You really have all the time and you really don’t have to stress. I also notice that many people… you mentioned re-exams. That people say “fuck I have re-exams, oh no I’m not going to pass, oh no you have extra…” chill. You do your best, but suppose you have to repeat a year, that’s not a disaster either, is it?

E: What I also think is crazy is how many people have studied law and you eventually hear that they ended up in a marketing agency because they found it much more interesting. When I talk to some people who… I was seeing a social media manager recently [laughs] “seeing”, I was talking to him.

W: “seeing” okay [laughs].

E: I was talking to him.

W: [joking] Ender has something to say.

E: And I asked “what did you study?” and he said biochemistry. “How the fuck did you end up here?” Him: “uh yeah that just wasn’t the right fit for me. I have a master’s degree but I started working here because I found it much more interesting”. I thought: why am I pretending that the degree I’m trying to get is going to determine the rest of my life, you know?

W: Absolutely.

E: If there are so many people now… because he was only 28 or something. So I thought “aah okay so you’ve been studying biochemistry for so many years and now you’re here – I don’t know if I’m talking about the correct position – but now you’re just sitting here making content. Cool. But why do I attach so much importance to that one direction I’m studying right now that doesn’t even have anything to do with media or anything. I mean I’m very interested in media, I’m studying economics. Which is also interesting, but that’s not what I see myself doing in the coming years.

W: Yeah, yeah.

E: Anyway enough about me. Do you think you could win in a fight against a cow?

W: [laughs] I really like that. You can switch to totally different shit like that. Like before you suddenly asked what color fish do you want to be. Okay. That’s nice. Win… I’ve heard if you knock over a cow it dies. That it has a heart attack then. We don’t want to kill cows okay!

E: And purely hypothetical, you’re just standing in a kind of meadow so it’s not super big so you can’t go in all directions. There is a limited domain. You come face to face with that cow and you have to begin. No weapons. You’re standing there and the cow stands there and you both know you’re going to fight.

W: It knows that too?

E: It knows that too.

W: [makes mooing noises] okay ca va.

E: It’s not a bull but it does have horns so in fact it would-

W: I would shit my pants. I’d give up already. I would lie on the ground, come on. Really crazy, I saw Jackass recently. Those guys, that Wee Man, who was in that link with the bull and he’s being catapulted, so to speak.

E: I don’t understand how those guys aren’t all dead yet.

W: Yeah they are really crazy.

E: There was also a rumor that Wee Man died from a bowling ball during… but apparently that wasn’t true.

W: I don’t know.

E: Fucked up shit. Would you win against a cow?

W: Would I win against a cow? No, I wouldn’t win against a cow. I don’t think I would win against a cow.

E: I think I would. I think just like with a bull I would try to jump out of the way like that and once you’re on the side it’s just a matter of pushing. If what you said is true, it’s game over when it’s down and you know, that’s your tactic.

W: But the thing is, a cow is heavy, isn’t it?

E: True.

W: You can’t just push it over like that, can you?

E: Sure, but it’s a matter of life or death, isn’t it? The adrenaline rush. You have to image, a cow just comes running towards you. The adrenaline that goes through your body. You shouldn’t underestimate the power you have then.

W: Just find the best patch of grass and when it’s there, sneaky knife in the back. No, now people are going to think I’m that kind of person.

E: That you’re just a snake.

W: Snake. Definitely and I admit it. No, that would be fucked up.

E: I’m going to do one more thing that’s important. I’m going to find a Twitter shout out and in the meantime, I already asked you what your message is to the world and that was a beautiful message. Got something more banal that you’d like to share? Something that you want to share from your social media or something?

W: What do you mean from social media?

E: Where they can follow you. You can say something if you have a really good video that you want to share. “Check me everywhere”.

W: No I don’t have… people should do what they feel like doing. Do you think I’m cool, do you think I’m fun, follow me on Insta. No really doesn’t matter. Doesn’t really matter.

E: Alright, I’m just going to scroll and you say stop. I’ll go back and forth and you have to say “yes that’s the one who gets to have this week’s shout out”.

W: Exciting huh. Stop.

E: [reads twitter account] M. Verschuren.

W: M. Verscheure.

E: Is that…

W: [reads quote] “If you were never sad, you wouldn’t know you could be happy”.

E: Wow. Damn bro.

W: I’m going to edit my quote.

E: “If you were never sad, you wouldn’t know you could be happy”. Wow. If you didn’t have shitty days, you wouldn’t know what the best days of your life were.

W: Exactly. But what if you get stuck in your shitty days for the rest of your life?

E: That won’t happen. That’s my biggest fear.

W: Me too.

E: Looking back at your life and thinking-

W: …Fuck I’ve never been there again.

E: …That’s where I peeked. Hope that doesn’t happen. Anyway M. Verscheure thank you very much for listening, I really appreciate it. You as well, I think?

W: Absolutely, absolutely. How much were you going to pay me?

E: 50 euro.

W: Then I’ll come… awesome. Super cool.

E: Thank you so much to everyone who listened. I appreciate it. If you want to hear more you can always subscribe to this channel. It’s also good for my ego. I’ll just put your Instagram link in the description, for people who are interested. Okay, that was it.

W: Thanks, it was fun.

E: There’s an audio only episode on Spotify every Sunday and the video comes out on Monday. That’s it. See you next Monday. Or Sunday. Peace.

[thefanficmonster]

Filterless

Corpse Husband x Plus-sized Reader (Female)

Warnings: Body Image Insecurities, Low self-esteem, Swearing

Genre:  Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Feeling comfortable in her skin has hardly ever been the case for Y/N who’s been struggling with body image issues all her life. However, they only get worse when she sees the ‘type’ of girls her crush is into.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your request (hits close to home 😅) I’m so sorry it has taken me so long to fulfill it and post it but here it finally is and if you’ve stuck around long enough to read it, I hope you enjoy! ALSO! - Never forget how beautiful and amazing you are. Never compare your beauty to someone else’s. We’re all beautiful people and we all shine so brightly and uniquely. No one deserves to be compared to anyone when we’re all so different yet so incredible. Love you and appreciate you with all my heart, Vy ❤

If I ever need my ego taken down a few notches - it never does, it’s barely even present, to be honest - all I have to do is go on Instagram. To be honest, regardless of how I’m feeling, opening that app is bound to make my mood plummet and come crashing into the ground so hard it drives a hole in it - probably in the form of a broken heart.

Being a content creator myself, I often get asked questions about my absence on that social platform specifically. I mean, the questions are based and rational I guess, considering I’m not a faceless YouTuber and yet my Instagram account is void of any photos. It’s not like I don’t post at all - I do! I post on my story often but it’s more often than not scenery I find pretty or a poster I’ve made for a movie/video game. Bottom line is: I barely ever allow a picture of me to make it online. The most my fans are ever gonna get of me is a selfie which is also a super rare occurrence because of how long it takes me to take and choose one I don’t hate.

Ok, but how am I supposed to find the motivation to post any sort of picture of myself when on my timeline I’m always faced with people worthy of posting pictures of themselves. People with such perfect bodies and beautiful faces. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not jealous or envious of those people - good for them! They know what they’re working with and they’re working it well. I have nothing against them, in fact, I love seeing people proud of their bodies no matter their size, shape or weight. Those are my role-models: people who are proud of themselves, their bodies, their attributes and capabilities and don’t hesitate to show them off. Those are the people I look up to but, deep down inside I know I’ll never be like.

Insecure about my body, having been referred to as ‘chubby’ and ‘squishy’ all my life. Inappreciative of the stuff I do: starting from my job as a graphic designer leading towards my job on YouTube - nothing I do, professionally or otherwise, satisfies me. Nothing I do is enough in my eyes because I feel incapable of ever being able to do enough. I’ve been called lazy and a half-asser a few too many times to be able to brush it off as a meaningless insult. 

With these problems I’ve had with myself and my own perception of who I am and the work I do, I’ve never had the time for romance or romantic relationships. I second-guess the intentions of everyone who ever shows any interest in me because in my mind I’m nothing special and I have nothing to offer - nothing attractive or likable at least. That being said, I haven’t even been one to make heart eyes at others either. I busy myself with my job and some side-gigs, brushing off any relationship questions with the excuse that I’m ‘just too busy to be in a relationship’ which is technically true.

Having spent twenty plus years with that mindset, one can imagine how surprised I was when I found myself catching feelings for someone. And that someone just couldn’t be any other than the biggest YouTube sensation at the moment - Corpse Husband.

I’m close friends with Poki - her and I were roommates at one point too - so her inviting me to play Among Us with them wasn’t so strange. One or two games, I thought, nothing unusual there, just friendly curtesy. I wasn’t expecting to warm up to the group of famous streamers nor did I expect them to welcome me among them so easily, mostly because my channel is so small and practically invisible to the YouTube algorithm. But soon enough, I became a permanent member of the team, making friends with every single one of those YouTubers I practically thought of a celebrities.

This journey of branching out to other content creators has proven itself to be surprisingly pleasant and has packed my book of friendships to the brim. All of that came unexpectedly, along with a wave of new subs and a higher view count. However, as I mentioned, it hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows. I came to finally understand what my high school friends were talking about when they were head over heels for a boy - the butterflies in the stomach whenever he speaks your name; the importance of the laugh you share with him, how special and different it is; how cool it is to be impostors with him - ok they never said that, obviously, but it’s what I have as a substitute to the ‘when the two of you make eye-contact’ bullshit since Corpse and I have never seen each other in person. That is, of course, because of him being a faceless YouTuber and me being a self-conscious and insecure girl.

We do talk all the time though - texting, calling, chilling on Discord, you name it. Our conversations range from deeply philosophical to ones that might mislead someone into thinking we’re high. There’s no topic we haven’t touched upon and yet we still manage to find something new to talk about. We have plenty of similarities but we also never seem to run out of differences we slowly come across as we keep getting to know each other better and better. 

And somewhere along that journey I ended up catching feelings.

Human nature of wanting to connect with other people, I curse you for what you’ve done to me.

You might think I’m being overdramatic about the whole ordeal and that this is just a normal, natural occurrence many people experience in their life - some even daily. Well, not only am I far from used to it, but it’s also taking a toll of a different kind on me.

It’s like a constant slap to the face. 

That slap turned into a punch when Corpse and I started following each other on Instagram and I started getting daily reminders of how out of my depth I am with this crush on him. In over my head, especially when you look at all those girls whose pics and videos he reposts on his story. Imagine how that makes me feel, what that does to me - puts me back into the ‘Constantly not good enough‘ basket, the one I’ve been fighting to get out of all my life. In the past and in different contexts I could easily say that it was all just my mind hating me intensely but now - now that I know for a fact I’m not good enough and don’t fit Corpse’s criteria - it hurts ten times as much. I’m not one to do shit for someone’s attention or to attract someone’s eyes, but it really hurts my feelings. Often times, it also leads me to doing dumb things and making rash decisions. 

Like the one I made two days ago.

Imagine me cringing and shaking my head at my own stupidity as I admit this: I, in a frenzy, ordered a whole e-girl getup with overnight delivery. 

Wait, hold up, it gets worse. 

I received it yesterday and spent the whole day regretting that decision, but then, in my most insecure hours - which was somewhere around midnight - I equipped the get-up, took a picture and posted it on my Instagram page. First full body pic I’ve ever posted on there. First pic I’ve posted there of any kind. There to stay, not to be gone in twenty four hours. First pic, and it’s not even of me. It’s of who I want to be in order to fit someone’s criteria. And that fucking stings.

As you might imagine, I’ve spent today’s day regretting that decision as well. Recently my mood’s been nothing but regretting rash decisions that have surfaced under the influence of my ridiculous, constantly-present insecurities. And I would’ve probably gotten over it rather quickly had I not received a message from Corpse that read:

“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic“

I didn’t open the message, I peeped at it as it was a notification on my lock screen. It’s still there, an unread notification. It’s been two hours since I received it and I cannot think of a single thing to say in response to that. 

Truth is, I’m afraid. I’m afraid of so many things right now.

I’m afraid of becoming that girl in the photo, cause I’m most definitely not her.

I’m afraid of letting Corpse down by admitting I’m not her.

I’m afraid of what my own mind has made me do because it hates me so much and I’m terrified of what it might do in the future.

I’m afraid and stranded on things to do.

You can’t be her forever, you know. Being her won’t make your insecurities go away, it’ll only make them worse. Haven’t you learned that by now?

I sigh, frustrated and irritated with myself as I grab my phone and tap on the notification, finally deciding to face the music and allow my instincts to carry me through the interaction. Improvisation, that’s one of the few things I’m good at. Let’s hope it doesn’t fail me.

I’m just about to type out my response - not sure what it’s gonna say - when I give the message Corpse has sent me a second glance.  I furrow my brows, finding there’s more to it than that peep through the notification let me see.

“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic. You’re personality is so bright and colorful, I could’ve never imagined you were into the darks and blacks“

Because I’m not

I fail to realize until the message has been sent that my thoughts are exactly what I typed out and sent.

And honestly, I’m glad. It feels like I’ve spoken my truth, like I’ve lifted a huge boulder off my chest.

With that rare confidence in mind I go on and delete the picture.

In its spot, I post a picture I just now took - a mirror selfie in my homey get-up consisting of hot pink sweatpants and an oversized blue tee, my hair in a messy bun, my face free of make-up.

I caption it: ‘Oops, had the e-girl filter on for the last one. This is filterless me tho so...Hi 🥴’

A lot better, I’m surprised to hear my inner voice say. I hope I don’t get used to all this kindness on my brain’s part, probably won’t last, but damn if I don’t milk every second of it.

Just then, I receive a new message from non other than Corpse.

“Now that’s the girl I see when I think of you. She’s super cute 😉“

My, oh my, who would’ve guessed Corpse has a game like that - and by that I mean the ability to make me blush so intensely with only a text message.

Now ain’t that better than being someone else, Y/N?

It sure is, it sure is.

@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @o-kaelin  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @lolalee24  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @darkacademic2  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr  @thelittleplantlover  @mirktuan  @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny  @vintagegothlover  @easygoingtheatre  @itsrandombooklover  @miiaivi  @emmybaybee  @befourgolden  @jjk-is-my-shit  @eternalteaaars  @spacebadgerx  @princesslunalight  @acequinn14  @samm48  @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa  @fo-love  @marishimomura-blog  @therealglenncoco  @cinnamonbun332  @killtherandomness  @sanshinexxxsan  @fee-btheweeb  @press-lay  @cathleenpotgieter16  @jazzydoesstuff  @moonlxghtbay  @forestrain2000  @hyunjinhugs  @blood-of-fandoms  @lovellylies  @ukiyolixx  @simpforhpcharacters  @chrisdylan17  @parkerjisung  @pedernille  @theodonyous  @wineandionysus  @malfoystilinskii05  @morbid-x  @coryisagee  @jessewa26  @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365  @raeanneinwonderland  @indecisive-empanada  @gluttonypalace  @loriane2503  @btsiguess-kpop  @khaoticbunny  @lucidlycactus  @smiithys  @rottenroyalebooks  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @fangirl-tc27  @fr0z3n-1  @notmesimpingfortechno  @shotarosleftpinky  @kunoi-chan  @idk-whats-wrong-with-me  @yikeroonie  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @poetry-and-tea  @ama-do-writing-stuff  @wishbonewolf  @emeraldxhope  @t0xick1tty  @kusuinko  @speakyourselfloveyourself  @sophia902103  @lo-manburg  @classsykittykat  @dmgama  @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee  @btsiguess-kpop  @akaashi-baby  @gun-jong-simp  @geschichtenfee  @yerapotato-wp  @browneyedgirl365  @thysagclub  @sparklycloudnight  @helloatomicshadow  @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal  @lucy-bunny17  @aaliyahh0  @katluckybear  @boyleanti  @straybids  @franchesca-791  @cosmicstorm19  @averyisbackinthetrashcan  @aomi-nabi  @xlanawriter  @allensimpsforcorpse

[pastryjay]

Personal stuff/ venty post thing

i’ll put it below a thing because I don’t want to be annoying with a long post :)

Mostly talks about gender stuff.

I don’t usually talk personal stuff because I am so used to my parents (mostly my mother) dismissing/ ignoring/ not understanding my worries and acting like me asking for help is an inconvenience. I’m an only child with parents over 40 years older than me and almost no close irl friends at the moment. It has been impossible for me to find anyone with remotely similar experiences irl that I feel comfortable talking to. (I don’t fall out with people, I promise i’m nice, I just find it hard to connect and reach out to others). Much love to my online friends though.

Anyway, I really haven’t talked about this with anyone other than dismissed attempts to ask my mum for help but I am having a gender crisis and have had for some time. I have always known I was different but it wasn’t until about 2 years ago that I started asking myself what if I am actually trans? Since then, that thought has been at the front of my mind all day, everyday and that is not an over-exaggeration. I guess I have found it so hard to talk about such issues because I am feeling things so hard and I don’t know how to start talking about how I feel in a condensed way that sums everything up. I had been keeping a journal online venting about said issues which now has over 18,000 words... yeah. There are a lot of thoughts in my head actually.

A lot of it is the usual stuff. I want a flat chest and have thought that for many years, I use GC2B binders when I can (and clean them without my parents knowing). I want short hair and I know I am an adult and can do what I want now, but it’s hard to get the confidence to do that when i’m naturally anxious and my mum tells me i’d look ugly with it =/. I like having body hair and wish my voice was deeper. I pretty much exclusively wear masculine clothes and haven’t bought a single piece of feminine wear in years. Honestly, I always hated clothes shopping until I realised that I could just buy masc clothes instead. Ffs I was one of two people in my year throughout high school who insisted on wearing the boys uniform with trousers instead of skirts and the other person since has come out as trans.

I do dress like just some guy now whenever I can, exhibit A, some of the lamest quality photos (I hardly take photos of myself lol and do NOT like my face).

I only dress feminine when my mum tells me I must, again yes, I know I am an adult but my mum is particularly skilled at making me feel ashamed. 

I have always related to and felt more comfortable around boys/ men as well, especially as I share much more typical interests and mannerisms too. I get some levels of dysphoria that fluctuate between almost non-existent to ‘makes me nauseous’. Though I tend to avoid things that would cause me to be uncomfortable e.g. I don’t go out much, I mostly avoid looking at myself. On the other hand dressing masc makes me very happy, euphoric I guess.

I am particularly worried with this whole situation as I have just finished my degree and am job hunting. Whatever job I have will probably expect me to be feminine, except I do not own make up anymore, I have hardly any feminine clothes and I will not be comfortable! I am depressed enough as it is!

I guess I will just have to suck it up and deal with it as I do not feel confident in my identity enough yet to put a label on it so can’t come out. So no, I don’t have my pronouns or put my name on social media anywhere anymore (tbh I haven’t for like a year or more) as I am just perpetually unsure (and scared). I only have my face (and maybe my name) on my patisserie instagram as my family follow me there and I do not want questions from them. Honestly just refer to me as anything, if you like in some online communities (especially gaming) I do have the username PastryJay as i’m a pastry chef and Jay sounds a lot like my middle name so Jay is okay too. I don’t know what I will end up identifying as or if I will just be forever unsure/ too scared to label myself. Is anyone ever completely sure? But as I have seen family, neighbours, former colleagues, students in my classes and people online express transphobic views many times, and I don’t live in a city so can’t easily meet other people like me, it is very hard to experiment much or talk about my feelings. Additionally, as an only child I feel like i’m constantly afraid of letting my parents down. I am also incredibly terrified that my feelings will change so wouldn’t want to come out irl then have to redact that. Yes yes, despite my gender issues not being a new thing at all or lessening. If I end up coming to the conclusion that I am just cis and masc, I have a lot of respect and love for the trans community and that will never change.

Anyway I guess as it is pride month, I am seeing a lot of people being happy and true to theirselves (which I am genuinely happy for, not being bitter and jealous here) whereas I just look like some awkward nobody and I am so lonely. Maybe I thought I should change that and make my feelings known here at least.

Big thanks and hello to anyone who has read this. I am totally open for accepting advice or acknowledgement from people about this btw.

[potteresque-ire]

This post is Part 4 of the five-part meta series on the Zhang Zhehan (張哲瀚) Incident, based on what has transpired up to 2021/08/22.

1) The 2nd Sino-Japanese War (1937-45) & the Yasukuni Shrine 2) Post-War Sino-Japanese Relations; “Every Chinese should visit the Yasukuni Shrine” 3) The Summer of 2021: The Brewing Storms for One 4) My Thoughts on Zhang’s Incident, Part A 5) My Thoughts on Zhang’s Incident, Part B

4) My Thoughts on Zhang’s Incident, Part A

Now, I’m finally going to dive into Zhang Zhehan’s incident. They’re, of course, my personal opinions, based on what’s known until 2021/08/22, and I’m talking about them not as a turtle, not as a Gg or Dd fan, not as a fan at all—but as … me. A Hong Konger, half-way American, and representative of neither.

I should start with a confession.

While, in the parts before, I wrote as if there were signs enough that I could see this coming, that I could see Zhang being handed the severe punishment that he had… I actually didn’t. I thought it would stop at People’s Daily critique of Zhang’s apology letter posted on August 13th, and Zhang would lose his endorsements, be forced to lay low for a while. I didn’t expect the all-out invisibility campaign the would happen, including the removal of his already-aired, groups projects such as Word of Honour (WoH 山河令).

Do I feel Zhang made a mistake? Absolutely. I agree with his self-assessment in his apology letter that he had been ignorant and careless. I’d add this as well: he had likely suffered from a certain degree of arrogance. When previously asked by his fans to remove from his Weibo a photo he took of a car painted in a manner reminiscent of WWII Japanese War Planes (and with a Rising Sun flag), that should’ve been a reminder, a warning enough for him to refrain from posting similar materials online. Being politically insensitive as a public figure in China is dangerous, and often costly. And one has to be really, really, insensitive politically, and very, very out of the news cycle, to be unaware of the tension in Sino-Japanese relations in the past decade, with the Yasukuni Shrine being at the epicentre of that tension.

A photo posted on Weibo by Zhang, later deleted at fans’ request and re-surfaced online during this incident (Left). The Nakajima Ki-84 fighter jet, used by the Imperial Japanese Army 1943-45 (Right). (Source)

But ignorance, carelessness and even arrogance are not crimes. These are corrigible traits; late 20’s may be not-so-young for an idol, but Zhang was young when he visited the shrine and took the photos in 2018. He’s still young now, having just reached 30, with lots of years to grow. 

From a practical standpoint, I also fail to see Zhang’s behaviour as causing more actual harm to anyone than as the Global Times Network (GTN) piece.

Zhang’s photos had never been widely circulated before the incident. The location at which they had been taken was also not obvious to those who haven’t investigated, or haven’t visited the Yasukuni Shrine. In contrast, the large quantity of photos in the GTN piece, their portrayal of the shrine’s right wing visitors, can arguably be said to be more visually offensive, if visual offensiveness is sufficient to be hurtful, if The Reporter of the GTN piece had, indeed, had his heart sunk just by the sight of the sakuras on the shrine grounds planted by the descendants and friends of those enshrined (reminder: overwhelmingly not war criminals), as he had described in the article. 

To put it in Chinese state media lingo, the GTN piece could arguably be said to have done more to 冒犯國人情感 (“offend the feelings of the country’s people”) (from People’s Daily critique piece against Zhang) and 輕佻地傷害中國人民的情感 (“flippantly hurt the feelings of the Chinese people) (from 中纪委 Central Commission for Discipline Inspection’s critique piece) than Zhang’s photos.

A thing to mention, perhaps: the phrase “hurting the feelings of Chinese people” (and its close cousins) has somewhat of a ... celebrity status among Chinese politics watchers, with ample articles and statistics dedicated to it for the sheer number of times it has appeared in China’s foreign policy materials, as well as the multi-purposeness of its application. Another example of “hurting the feelings of Chinese people”: an English Mercedes-Benz ad, posted on Instagram (a blocked site in China), featuring a quote by Dalai Lama. The phrase has become a bit of a joke in anti-CCP communities, not because the feelings of Chinese people aren’t legitimate or important, but because a regime that doesn’t allow voting, that suppresses the freedoms of speech and press, is hardly an expert on the feelings of its people.

An entertaining infographic about China’s “hurt national feelings” (high-res version). Japan has consistently ranked 1st in the number of times it has hurt China’s national feelings (upper right corner).  

And, speaking of “flippant”, I find flippant perfectly described the tone of the GTN piece, which I, as a reader of Chinese descent, was perhaps even more embarrassed by than the fact that The Reporter visited the shrine. The Reporter admitted he already had a “fight-picking heart”, had chosen to act confrontationally; the article he’d write later reflected that, was filled to the brim with bravado. However, as I mentioned before, he never did what would’ve mattered if he had elected to fight, made the cause of his troublemaking clear—he had said nothing about the war criminals, or the revisionist material in the museum. Statements of protests needn’t be physical or violent; they simply had to be communicated, and to the right audience—which doesn’t include his translator, or the staff at the Yasukuni Shrine. 

The American tourist could’ve been a potential target; wouldn’t it be interesting to find out what they knew about this piece of history, how much they knew about the controversies surrounding the shrine? But The Reporter only told them Americans were not welcomed—a statement automatically doubtful by the presence of … an American next to him. If The Reporter’s account were true, then, to the staff, the tourist who interacted with him, The Reporter behaved just like … a passive-aggressive, very rude Chinese tourist. He had scored zero victory for his cause—if he did have a cause—during his visit.

If the defence was his fight-picking heart, no one asked Zhang if he had harboured a fight-picking heart when he had visited, taken the pictures.

That’s double-standard. That’s hypocrisy.

Personally, I would’ve left out the Yasukuni Shrine from my Tokyo itinerary — as much because of the two thousand war criminals there, and the 2 million+ not-war-criminals there who deserve respect and peace. If I’m not a descendant of those enshrined there; if I’m not worshipping; if I lack deference for the shrine and the Shinto religion it represents, then, I have no business to be at the Yasukuni Shrine. 

There are beautiful sakuras all over Tokyo.

Sakuras along Tokyo’s Meguro River (Source)

Okay. Back to Zhang. I personally believe he made mistakes. Do I feel, then, that Zhang’s punishment was appropriate, or was it too much?

As someone whose family was mostly spared from the pain and suffering caused by the acts of the Imperial Japanese Army during the 1930s and 40s, I don’t think the answers to these questions are up to me to decide. It’s inappropriate for me to decide.

But I’ll follow my answer with this question: whoever are deciding now, are they the people who should be deciding, whose lives have been truly impacted by the war? Those screaming on social media that Zhang is a traitor, a 漢奸 hanjian—a term originated from the KMT and Sino-Japanese War era to refer to persons who have illicit relationships with the enemy of, specifically, the Han Chinese ethnicity—those wanting to destroy not just Zhang’s career, but Zhang himself … do they really believe visiting, taking photos at the Yasukuni Shrine are acts enough to warrant those accusations, bearing in mind that treason is, perhaps, the most unforgivable crime in China?

Is Chairman Mao, a Han Chinese, a hanjian when he thanked the Japanese prime minister? Why not? What he said could’ve been out of pragmatism, but did he hurt the feelings of the Chinese whose family had died from Japanese military brutality during the war, of the comfort women who, at the time of the meeting, were still living in significant numbers? Why, when a post quoting Mao’s words in defence of Zhang surfaced several days ago, the vast majority of online reactions was “here goes another brain-disabled fan”, until one netizen whispered it had actually been spoken by a Great Figure, without naming, without daring to name the actual speaker of the quote?

Why have those quotes been buried in the graves of the Chinese internet?

And the netizens who went on to “dig up”, spread unsubstantiated rumours about Zhang’s being 精日 (short for 精神上��日本人 “Spiritually Japanese”), being a secret right-wing Japanese, even—were they patriots or were they cyberbullys? Were they out to defend their country, or were they out there torturing someone they didn’t like for their own enjoyment? For their own potential gains?

They called Zhang a 行走的五十萬 “Walking 500,000” — the number referring to the sum of money (500,000 RMB, ~ 77,000 USD) the Chinese government rewards someone who reports, offers tip-offs on a foreign spy. If Zhang’s family happens to be Japanese too, they said, the reward could be 500,000 * n !!

An Anti-Spy Law (反間諜法) advertisement. 12339 is the phone number and website for reporting / making tip-offs on foreign spies. (Source)

One would say, of course, that these netizens were only joking.

But are jokes jokes if they can ruin someone for good? Same goes with every one who attempted to connect whoever, whatever they didn’t like with Zhang, @ ing the state agencies on the Weibo posts to call the latter’s attention to connections, wishing for the government and the platforms to remove these whoevers, whatevers along with Zhang. 

These whoevers, whatevers have included: Zhang’s former work associates; CP supertopics; Danmei and Dangai; Dangai dramas before WoH; actors involved in Dangai dramas before WoH; supertopics of these actors; the fans of these actors; fandom in general …

(To the Anon who asked: this is how the rumour that all CP supertopics may be removed came about. So far, there are no evidences that the invisibility campaign related to Zhang is heading in that direction.)

These “soft reporting” attempts—soft, in the sense that they were reporting to the state agencies, but not using the state’s formal system—conjures a scene like this in my mind: a class of small children, all with little to no power on their own, pointing their stubby fingers to whoever they don’t like in front of who they perceive as absolute authority. “But (S)HE did this!! “ screams a child who tries to borrow the teacher’s “knife” to take down their enemies, not understanding what it’ll mean to themselves if the teacher does yield to their demand, does punish their “enemies” based on their words alone: that the child can themselves will be punished when another child points their stubby fingers at them.

Perhaps, here’s the resemblance of the scene: when absolute authority exists, critical thinking tends to go wayside, even if the capability to critically think exists—because what’s the point of thinking? The opinion of the authority is the only thing that matters in the end. Mob mentality and actions take over: mobs of not only netizens, but mobs of companies, mobs of platforms.  

And so, when it rained for Zhang, it poured.

===

The Zhang Zhehan Incident Meta Series:

PART 1  PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 <- YOU ARE HERE PART 5

[hockeywhhores]

it’s a love hate kind of thing- Q. Hughes

Quinn Hughes x f!Reader

warning~ angsty as hell, swearing, miscommunications 

summary~ You have to quarantine with the Hughes family, and you finally get to know why Quinn started to hate you. 

genre~ enemies to lovers, angsty to fluff

word count~ 2.9K 

Valentine’s masterlist

main masterlist

You don’t even remember how you became friends with Jack and Luke Hughes. Though, it was how most people became friends. You met Jack in highschool where you had a couple of classes, and mutual friends. From there you grew closer to the middle brother and soon met his brothers. Quinn was what you considered being your friend, but only for six months. Until he just stopped talking to you entirely. Luke had always been a genuine friend. When Quinn just stopped being your friend, it threw you through a loop. Was it something you did? What did you even do? Jack and Luke were there to say that he was just their older brother being an asshat, but you were still wary. You had the biggest crush on him from the moment you met him, and it really hurt when he stopped talking to you without an explanation.

You had no time to dwell on the past, as you were now in college. Jack had made it to the big leagues, and Luke was projected to follow suit. If anyone asked Ellen, she would say that you were at their house more than you were at your own dorm. Ellen didn’t even mind the company. You were teaching Luke how to cook proper meals, so he could be more self-efficient than his brothers. But then coronavirus hit. Hockey was canceled, they sent home the players, and colleges closed their doors. Ellen gladly let you stay at the Hughes’ household, while you waited for the dorms to reopen. The worst part of this deal was that Quinn was also coming home. You decided to just stay out of his way, but that was going to be hard with how close the brothers were.

“Y/n you want to go roller skate with us?” Jack was yelling at you from the living room, while you were making yourself some iced tea in the kitchen. Before you could respond, you heard Quinn. You weren’t sure if he didn’t want you to hear it or if he did.

“Dude, why did you invite her?”

Ouch.

“No thanks, Jack. I think I’m going to help your mom reorganize the cleaning closet.” you semi-lied. You had wanted to go play street hockey with them, but you really weren’t in the mood to listen to Quinn insult you.

“Come on! Please y/n!” Luke was now trying to convince you. The guys now moved in the kitchen where you were still making your drink.

“I think your mom is going to need some help to clean the closets.” you tried to push the looks they were giving you out of your head. Quinn looked disgusted. Jack and Luke were trying to give you puppy eyes.

“Oh, y/n you don’t have to help me. Go play with the guys.” It shocked you when you heard Ellen’s voice coming into the kitchen. Now you really didn’t have an excuse to not go. Jack and Luke high fives and started cheering.

“Thank you mom!” you heard Jack cheer out. You didn’t dare look at Quinn. You knew he had to have a look of disappointment. “Well, come on!” Jack grabbed your arm and dragged you outside.

Rollerblading was not your forte. You were so much better at ice skating, and Quinn never let you forget that as you tried to stop by turning your foot. Quinn also bumped into you hard, but you said nothing. You didn’t want to give me another thing to critic you about. Jack was on your team, and Luke was on Quinn’s team. Jack voiced out that it wasn’t fair, because you haven’t been playing hockey your whole life.

“You wanted me to come play with you guys.” you shrugged out and heard Quinn’s scoff.

“I told you guys not to invite her.” Quinn never missed a beat with the insults. You rolled your eyes, and started passing that puck to Luke, who was across from you.

“Lets just play.” Luke became the voice of reason, between Jack and Quinn’s argument, about being nicer to you.

Everyone knew the Hughes brothers were competitive, so you tried to stay out of the way of their sticks. You were just staying towards the designated spot for the goal until you heard your phone go off. You knew they wouldn’t care about you going to pick it up. Skating over to the garage where you left it, you noticed it was your friend Will that was calling you.

“Hey Will!” you cheered into your phone. Getting the attention of the guys. You just waved them off as you sat down on the floor.

“Hey y/n! I was wondering if you could give me some tips for online dating.” Will asked you squeamishly.

“I haven’t dated in years. I don’t know if I’m going to be any help.” you admitted.

“I know, but you are great at starting conversations. I just want some tips on how to be more outgoing, I guess.”  

“Just start by asking about their interests, and then just fine common ground. Your set after that.” you explained. “Don’t be afraid they’re just another human being.”

“I don’t want to text first, but I don’t think she wants to either,” he confessed. “Before I go, how is the Hughes family treating you? Quinn still being a dick?”

“Yeah, but nothing I’m not used to from him. Aside from that, everything is going great. We were just playing street hockey, before you called.”

“Well, this was just going to be a quick call, but we should talk more later.”

“Yeah, totally! Bye! Remember, she is just another human being.” you explain one last time.

“I will! Bye!” You clicked off the phone and were met with three eyes watching you. You got up from the ground and skated back to them.

“What?” you asked, curious why they were just staring at you.

“Who were you talking to?” Luke jokingly poked you, with his eyebrows going up and down.

“Not that it’s any of you guys' business, but I was talking to my friend Will.”

“Who’s Will?” Jack asked, genuinely curious.

“Probably just some else she’s fucked.” Quinn mumbled under his breath.

“Actually, no, he isn’t. He’s a friend that goes to my college, and he wanted some advice on how to talk to a girl he has been going after.” you were beyond pissed at Quinn now. Usually he just stuck to the insults about how terrible you were at hockey, or how he doesn’t want you around, but calling you a slut was crossing the line. “I’m done playing. See you inside.” was the last thing you said before you quickly took off the rollerblades, and went inside, without looking back at the guys.

“What the hell, Quinn” Jack yelled at his brother. “That was so not cool.”

“Yeah. Why the hell did you think you could say something like that to y/n. She has been nothing, but nice to you and you are being a total asshole to her.” Quinn just shook his head. He didn’t even know why he said that, but he would not be scolded by his younger brothers. Without giving them an explanation, he went back inside as well. As Quinn walked past your ‘room’ he could hear you crying. What he said was harsh, but not as harsh as you when you supposedly hooked up with his teammate, while you were talking to him.

Quinn was getting into the talking stage with you, and things were going good. You would send him good luck text before his games, and he would text you/hang out with you whenever he could. Until he had heard his teammate, James, talking about how good you were in bed. Quinn even came to your rescue saying how they shouldn’t talk about you like that, but when James told him when you had hooked up with him, he couldn't stand being around you. He was heartbroken. Quinn thought he did everything right. You were close with his entire family, and he tried to give you as much as he could, but you chose James. After that he wanted nothing to do with you and thought if he just insulted you enough you would leave him and his brother’s alone. But Jack and Luke liked you too much to let you stop being their friend. Quinn never told his brothers what made him hate you, because it wasn’t his business who you slept with. That still doesn't mean that he was going to continue giving his whole heart to you, while you slept with other people.

Dinner was awkward. No one really knew what to say. You had left your room in an enormous pair of sweatpants, a shirt that was a bit too big, and puffy, red eyes. Your hair was in a bun, and you weren’t really into talking. Quinn felt as if he should apologize, but didn’t really know what to say. He knew he hurt you, but you also hurt him. After you finished your plate, you thanked Ellen and went back to your room. Jack and Luke were quick to follow you, leaving Quinn and his mom together.

“What happened between you two? I thought you two were going to finally get into a relationship, but here you are. You are making her cry, and she can’t even look at you anymore. Doesn’t that make you sad?” Ellen questioned her oldest son.

“I thought we were going to become exclusive as well, but then she went behind my back, and slept with James Fisher. It does make me sad. I was so sure that we had mutual feelings, but I was just someone for her to play with.” This was the first time Quinn has ever told anyone why he disliked you so much.

“Have you talked to her about it? I trusted nothing that came out of that kid's mouth.” Ellen quizzed her son. “You both deserve answers.” with that she cleared her plate and started cleaning the kitchen. Quinn knew she was right, but he doubted that you even wanted to talk to him. Yet, He went to find you.

Quinn found you in your room with his brothers. He heard the laughs and the chirps before he even was close to the door. He lightly tapped on the door, making it swing open more and revealed him.

“What do you want, Quinn?” you demanded, voice as cold as ice. Jack and Luke were just looking at him.

“I wanted to talk to you. I owe you an apology.” he explained. It surprised you; Quinn never apologized for his insults. “Can I talk to you? Alone.” After you nodded, his brothers jumped up from sitting on the floor and left.

“Are you going to come in?” you asked him, pointing at the chair in the far corner. He just nodded and closed the door. He sat in the chair and just started talking.

“I wanted to say sorry for the comment I said earlier.”

“Why did you even think to say something like that?” you challenged him.

“Because that was what happened with James.” Quinn said seriously. “I thought we had something going on, and then you go and sleep around with my teammate. I don’t care what you do with your body, but you had to do it while we were talking. I was putting everything into getting our relationship started and you really thought sleeping with James was better. I was just a game to you. God dammit y/n, I loved you.” Quinn just confessed everything. He couldn’t keep it in anymore.

“I never slept with James.” you mumbled. “He made that all up just because I wouldn’t sleep with him. You weren’t just a game. I fell in love with you too. I still am, but if you just asked me, you would’ve known that I did not sleep with James. James is an egotistical asshole who lied to everyone.” you explained in a claim voice. You had tears in your eyes, and you saw some in his as well. Lightly patting the spot on the bed next to you; Quinn promptly moved next to you. Right when he sat down next to you; you pushed yourself into his arms, pulling him into a tight hug.

“I’m so sorry that you thought I was just playing you.” You cried into his shoulder.

“No. No. No. This is all my fault I should’ve just asked you. I’m so sorry y/n. I truly am a dick.” Quinn was playing with your hair while you hugged, and you just sank deeper into his arms.

That night was different for everyone. When a movie was put on, you and Quinn weren’t insulting each other. You guys were actually sitting next to each other, holding hands, and even sharing a blanket. Things weren’t great between you too, but things were better. The night was peaceful.

The next day, the sun was shining, and you needed to get outside and experience it. You put on your tanning swimsuit and laid out on the lawn, while the guys were playing street hockey. They really couldn’t get enough hockey. You giggle every time, one brother chirped the other.

“You want to play y/n?” Quinn asked you, when you started coughing after laughing so hard at something Jack called Quinn

“Oh, I don’t think so.” you barely got out. Turning around so you could your back under the sun. You felt Quinn’s eyes on your body, and you looked over at him and gave him a wink and a genuine smile. You were happy. You felt as if you belonged.

“Come on, babe, come help me show these dorks up.” Quinn pleaded with you. The pet name rolled off his tongue without him even knowing he said it.

“I mean, you asked so nicely.” You joked with him as you got up and grabbed your rollerblades.

“Yay! I call y/n!” Quinn cheered out so loudly that you were sure the entire block heard him. You laughed and grabbed that shortest stick you could find. Skating over to the boys while they were standing around waiting for you to get closer, you got close enough and stole it from where Luke had it steady. You shot it towards the mini net they had, and surprisingly it went in!

“Oh my god! Y/n just did that!” Jack shouted out in disbelief

“Hell yeah, she did!” Quinn countered and pulled you into his arms. The swim suit you were wearing was supportive enough for you to play, but still showed enough skin to tan in. Feeling his hand on your bare waist took your breath away. You turned and smiled at him.

“Aren’t you glad you picked me.” you chirped at him.

“I’m never not going to pick you.” Quinn declared, looking straight into your eyes. You made the first move and pulled him into a kiss. The kiss was one of love and pining. The kiss was making up for all the ones that were missed.

“Hey lovebirds! Get a room!” you heard Jack yell out from behind you.

“Dude, shut up.” Luke told Jack for you and Quinn. You were the one that broke up the kiss due to you smiling too hard. Resting your forehead against his with your arms still on him, trying not to roll away, and his touch still burning your skin.

“Do you want to try this again?” Quinn asked you nervously.

“I would love to try this again.” you professed. He pecked your lips and then briskly pulled away.

“She said yes! Y/n is going to be my girlfriend!” Quinn shouted so loudly that you were now sure that the entire block heard him.

“Finally!” you heard Jack and Luke applauded.

Quinn and you slept well that night, tangled up in each other's arms. Everything was going to be fine. You woke to Quinn drawing feather-light shapes on the back of your upper arms, and the smell of pancakes filling the house.

“I’ve always dreamed about what it would be like to wake up with you in my arms.” he admitted.

“So have I, but now we don’t have to dream anymore.” you grinned at him.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

“Probably, but you could always say it again.” you playfully countered him.

“You are the most gorgeous woman. I have ever met.” Quinn proclaimed. You leaned up and kissed him. Letting everything out. Crawling on top of him, with your knees on both of his sides. You passionately kissed him. Quinn kissed you back with the same amount of passion and then started pulling up your shirt.

“EWW! My eyes!!” Luke’s voice rang out through the entire house. You promptly pulled down your shirt and jumped off of Quinn. “Mom! You’re going to have to watch these sinners.” Luke continued to run around the whole yelling.

“Be quiet, Luke, I’ve been waiting too long for those two to get together.” Ellen’s voice rang out after Lukes. Quinn blushed, and you did as well.

“Well, then.” Quinn said into the awkward air. You then just bursted out laughing, and soon he was joining in.

“What would we do without your brothers?” you chirped.

“We would probably get some peace.” Quinn countered, and you nodded your head in agreement.

“Let’s go get some pancakes! We can finish what we started when they all find something to do far, far away.” you wiggled your eyebrows at him.

“I can’t wait to take you back to Vancouver with me.” he confessed. You only smiled at him, but he knew that was what you wanted as well.

finished 

[physicalturian]

[18+] Words of pleasure - Law x F!Reader - Part 1

Summary : Being overwhelmed with work is exhausting. To release some of that stress, you make your way on a website to talk to strangers. One of them strike your interest and while the conversation flows you find yourself being dommed online. An unusual occurrence you might get a liking to. The thrill of letting someone take the control when too much weight is on your shoulders, no strings attached. Unless...

[No spoilers] [Modern AU - College AU] [She/her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] Words : 5034 Archive of our own

Warning : Consensual BDSM / Masturbation / Power play / Dom/sub Dynamics / Cybersex / Stranger / Vaginal fingering... If you feel like I should add more warnings, send me a dm or and ask

. . . . .

Boredom makes you do crazy things. Lack of free time too, mix them together and you end up stumbling on a website, talking to strangers from all across the world.

 With my work done, it was already pretty late, but I deserved some distraction for working so hard. I did not really care how late it was, I wanted to relax and have some fun, no matter the kind of fun.

Arriving on the home page, I stared at it “Clean chat or NSFW chat? Well…” I mumbled to myself, clicking on the NSFW tab, I had to find a name now. It had to be explicit enough so that the person would know what I want right? Yeah, but what do I want? Huffing, I typed down “Entertain me” Before entering and getting matched with a random person.

 They did not stay long, and their names were surprising to say the least. It took me a lot of time to match with someone that did not have a weird name, and did not leave the minute they got matched with me. I almost gave up too. Now, I was not one to kink shame, but neither was I into anthro dogs and role playing as people’s daughter.

 But funny enough, when they had a slightly normal name. They’d be the most boring person ever, I had to laugh every time people who had “dom” in their name, were the least charismatic people I’d ever met. I had to give it a thought and wonder, were they dom or did they just top their whole life?

 Huffing, I pressed the escape key on my keyboard once more to refresh the conversation and leaned back on my pillows. “At this point, I should just go to sleep.” I pondered out loud, my eyes riveted on the loading screen. I had probably skipped everybody on this website, and now they couldn’t give me anything. When I was about to leave, I was matched with someone named “A real doctor”.

 I couldn’t help the chuckled that escaped my lips as I leaned forward and wrote down.

 Entertain me: Now, are you really a doctor? Or do you want to get people to be horny over you?

Entertain me: ah, wait, also, how old are you? I’m 23, she/her.

A real doctor: There is no reason for me to lie, I don’t even need to tell them I’m a doctor to have them horny. People are always horny on this website.

A real doctor: 29, he/him. How long have you been looking to be entertained?

 Laughing I shook my head, I was surprised to meet someone who was 29 when most people I’d met until now were 18 or 19. I skipped them too. But I was definitely relieved, and it showed in my reply.

 Entertain me: thank god you’re 29, I was afraid I was going to catch a case! So many young people here, it’s frightening.

A real doctor: Are you telling me I’m old?

Entertain me: no no no, definitely not, no you’re the perfect age don’t worry. But since you’re asking so kindly, I’ve been here for about two hours and I have not had a single one good conversation.

A real doctor: Good, then I’m here to change that. What kind of entertainment are you looking for?

 I stared at my screen for a second, for some reason I was starting to feel excited. His question was a good one, and valid one too, and now I had to give him an adequate answer. Running my hands over my face, I was going to type back when he sent something.

 A real doctor: I guess, since we’re both on the NSFW chat the question is: what are your kinks? Your limits, perhaps?

 I don’t know why I answered so quickly, but my fingers did the talking.

 Entertain me: Hey maybe I should ask you that, maybe I want to dom you. How about that? You’d be surprised with how versatile I am.

A real doctor: You’re cute, but I don’t recall mentioning domming. Quite the lapsus you did there, I want to play a game with you but to do so you’ll have to tell me your kinks and your limits, dear.

 Why did I blush? A stranger called me dear, and I was feeling funny inside. For the first time tonight, someone was taking the reins and I kind of enjoyed it a lot. With my hands shaking slightly in excitment, I typed,

 Entertain me: I suppose you make a fair point…

A real doctor: Of course, I do, now do tell me.

Entertain me: right away, sir.

 I said half-jokingly, but that did not go through with the text. If anything, it fueled a certain fire, and perhaps I’ll admit I was testing the waters.

 A real doctor: Already catching on I see, good girl.

 Why was that so hot? My breath hitched and I simply looked at those words a few seconds, taking them in. Sighing, I leaned towards the left and open the drawer of my bed table, grabbing my toy. What am I doing… I thought. Putting the vibrator next to me, I took my time to reply.

 Entertain me: first of all, that’s kind of hot and you are definitely entertaining me.

A real doctor: I barely started, good to know you’re already hooked.

Entertain me: oh fuck off, it’s just the charisma. You got the pzazz, that’s all.

A real doctor: Check the attitude, and give me an answer.

 Gulping, I typed back, weighing my words this time.

 Entertain me: Well, avoid degradation because that’s not my cup of tea but… I suppose, while some of those might be hard through a screen… Body worship is cool, very cool… The entire idea of BDSM is lovely, I like praising, spanking, public stuff has some appeal and…

 I didn’t write the last one, feeling like it was too much. Should I say that? It sounds to fucking submissive. Which is my role right now, clearly, so I should just go for it. Sighing, I read his message and groaned, writing back.

 A real doctor: Go ahead. And? I want clear answers and you’re not done yet.

Entertain me: I like to please my partner, is that a kink?

A real doctor: A service sub? How cute. I’ll definitely make good use of that. Any limits?

Entertain me: I’m never showing my face, but pics are okay. I mean, if you’d like some of course. Consent and all that. I’m willing to try other stuff if we take things slow, too!

 Oh god, that sounded desperate. I don’t even know what he looks like and I’m telling him all of my deepest tastes. “Well, that’s the idea, right? I’ll never meet him, but I can have some fun, right? It’s all about having some fun, both of us. We both get off, and then never talk again.” I whispered to myself, looking up at the time. Noticing it was already 2 am, I was going to leave but I couldn’t find the strength to do so and waited for the man’s reply.

 A real doctor: Very well, I love the eagerness. I’ll be taking notes of those, now you’re curious about the game, aren’t you?

Entertain me: Don’t flatter yourself, if it’s some weird shit I’ll just leave. It really all depends on what’s your game. And please, don’t tell me it’s truth or dare.

A real doctor: Give me some credits, I’m not a teenage boy.

A real doctor: You’ll like it.

A real doctor: The game is this, I tell you what to do, and you do it.

Entertain me: okay…

A real doctor: Interested?

Entertain me: I’ll need more details, but I haven’t left, have I?

A real doctor: You haven’t indeed. Good girl, see you want to be ordered around. It’ll be my pleasure.

A real doctor: Your hands off your keyboard, I’ll be guiding you. All you’ll have to do, is read me. Is that alright?

 I took in his words for a moment. Was I really going to let him tell me what to do? My own voice resonated in my head, telling him that was the fun of it, it was hot. It was exciting, and different, nothing bad could happen.

 Entertain me: Would it be interesting to tell you I have a vibrator next to me right now, sir?

 I facepalmed behind my screen, maybe that wasn’t his shit. Maybe he just wanted me to finger myself or something, maybe I fucked it all up and now I was going to go to bed horny and sad. My self-depreciation dissipated when I saw his reply.

 A real doctor: It’s interesting, speeds?

Entertain me: Five, sir.

A real doctor: Hands off the keyboard, lay on your back, let’s start.

 And I did. With the laptop right next to me, I laid on back and waited for his words, following each of his instruction. Each in a separate message, fired like bullets.

 If you’re dressed, I want you to get completely naked. Undress slowly. Feel yourself. Your hands caressing each of your curves. Brushing over your breasts. Stop there. Pinch your nipples, hard and tug. Feel the sting. The warmth that follows. Spread your legs wide. Let one hand travel between them. Slowly start playing with yourself. Your fingers slowly spreading your folds. Rubbing yourself for me. You’re enjoying this, you like being ordered around. You want to be played with, you’re doing exactly as I’m telling you, like a good girl.

 I arched my back, a hand still on my breast while brushing my finger against my clit. I was burning up, my head digging inside the pillow, it felt strange. He was not wrong, and I could feel my arousing growing and growing.

 A real doctor: Want to continue? Are we still good, dear?

 Groaning I turned on the side and wrote with one hand.

 Entertain me: yes, sir.

A real doctor: Good. Back on your back, take your toy.

 Grabbing it, I waited for the next instruction, my hand having left my clit. It was pulsing, I never thought this would have so much effect but I was starting to get angsty.

 Brush it between your folds. Slowly. Get it wet for me. Good, like that. Keep at it a while. Your free hand, I want it caressing your body. Feel every sensation. Feel every touch, every brush.

 I let out a huff and wrote him, while still brushing the tip of my toy between my folds. I was starting to breathe heavily, feeling needy.

 Entertain me: it’s cold here, goosebumps.

A real doctor: Imagine my warm hands traveling your body.

Entertain me: fuck, can I fuck myself? Please sir

A real doctor: Already? No, no. Not just yet, let’s take our time.

 Groaning, I let my head hit the pillow and considered turning on the vibrator but thought against it. He had not told me to yet, I should wait, make it more fun. But fuck, I needed it.

 Let’s start slowly. You asked nicely, like a good girl. And since you’ve been listening until now… Put it in, speed one. But don’t fuck yourself. Leave it there. Legs spread wide. Now that your hands are free, bring them back to your chest. Give yourself firm, hard, gropes. Feel the vibrations inside you. Slide your hands down your torso, to your belly and gently brush your hands on your inner thighs. Feel the texture, your cold fingers on your burning skin. I want you to rub your clit, take a deep breath and start playing with it. Feel the electricity coursing.

 See yourself, enjoying the idea of being commanded. Look at yourself, look down at your hands. See yourself masturbating for me. Feel your toy stretching you, filling you up. Now start pumping in and out. But not too hard. That’s it, good girl. Slowly, very slowly. It’s painfully slow, isn’t it? Keep doing good, and we’ll speed things up.

 I whined and brought a hand to my mouth, muffling the noises escaping it. My roommates were probably sleeping, I had to keep it quiet. I hate how slow paced it was, but I loved how thrilling it was to do this. I bucked my hips to try to meet the toy as I pulled it out to pull it back in, slowly.

 Look at you. Shoving a dildo inside you. Just because I told you so. I blushed and let out a whimper. You’re actually enjoying yourself. You are being entertained, just as you asked. I can almost see the smile on your face. Tell me, is my good girl desperate yet?

 Bringing my hands to my hair, I got the wild strands of hair out of my face and wrote back. My face was on fire, but no one would know. What happened here was between this stranger and I, no one would know how I was being guided to fuck myself by a total stranger.

 Entertain me: sir… can I up the speed?

A real doctor: Very cute, you haven’t answered, dear.

Entertain me: please…

Entertain me: sir.

A real doctor: Alright, dear. You can put it at 2.

A real doctor: But you stop the thrusting, I want you to keep it deep inside you. Close your legs and feel the vibrations, when you think you’re close, you stop. Understood?

Entertain me: yes sir!!

A real doctor: How eager, lovely. Hands off now.

 Huffing, I did as he asked and upped the speed. A giggle escaped my lips before my breath caught in my throat and I could feel everything strongly, with how deep it was. I closed my eyes for a moment, missing some of the messages but opened them again, and read everything while feeling the sensations inside me.

 Angle it right. That’s right. Turn the speed one notch now. It should be at three, if you’ve been following right. See your face, you’re enjoying this. How cute, I can only imagine the sinful sounds leaving that pretty mouth of yours. It can probably do a lot more than moan. It can whimper. As it’s being fucked. As you’re being fucked. Bring your fingers inside your mouth and suck on it. That’s it, suck it. Push the toy deeper inside you. You can speed up the pace. Not too wild.

 “Fuck” I breathed out, my fingers hooked in my mouth as I met each of thrusts. I wanted to go faster, I wanted to do as I pleased and find a quick relief. I knew myself; I knew what to do but there was this thrill in giving the control to this stranger. My walls were clenched around the toy, I could feel it against my walls even more at each thrust. I desperately grabbed my blanket, almost making my laptop tumble off my bed and muffled my voice while biting down the fabric.

 I was surprised when a whine came out of my mouth, I put my hand over my muffled mouth to, hopefully, muffle it better.

 A real doctor: You’ve been good. Such a good girl, haven’t you?

 I sighed and leaned on my side, typing very slowly. My thrusts, slowing down as my focus was on the conversation.

 Entertain me: Yes sir, I’m so good

A real doctor: Good. Then I want you to grab the base of your toy and…

A real doctor: Fuck your brains out, go wild. While you’re at it, speed at 4.

 My arms were screaming for me to stop, it had been so long. But I felt the knot in my stomach grow in excitement and did exactly as he had asked. The pleasure was so good, it was so good. I had been waiting for this since we had started. One hand was gripping the base of the vibrator tight, while the other was rubbing my clit. My eyes rolled back a few times when it touched the right spot, but then I had to thrust more and lost it. I hated it but at the same time, I loved the mix of pain and pleasure of the fast and deep thrusts.

 Here we go. Hard, and fast. I want you to go wild. Let yourself go. Fuck your hole good. Groan, squirm, moan, plead for more. I’m sure you’re sore, but you’re doing so great. Such a good girl, doing exactly as you’re told. Keep going, don’t stop. Feel your toy stretching you out. You’re so wet, you can probably hear it, right? God, such a good girl. Spread your legs wide and keep going, good. Good. Now, read well, dear.

 I want you to go to the last speed, and keep your toy deep like last time. Don’t move it. Cross your legs and keep it there. I’ll count to 20, you’ll keep it there until I’m done. Are we good? Don’t answer, just follow my instruction. Come on, last speed. And here we go. That’s it dear. Good. Let’s start.

 Then he started sending a message for each number starting from 1. I watched the screen with half-lidded eyes, feeling the toy vibrating inside me, my hand starting to go numb from the said vibrations. My thighs were a bit sore, but I ignored it and moved the toy slightly to angle it only to find the right spot, I closed my eyes and focused on the sensation, only peeking to see the count was at 13. Fuck, fuck, fuck. My thighs were closed around my hand so hard, it hurt a bit but I was getting close.

 That’s it, what a view. Fucked out, exhausted. But you’re not done yet. Pick up the pace now, thrust and shove, hold it there. And again. And again. Hit that sweet spot. That’s it. Good girl, so obedient. Feel the soreness between your legs. Feel your clit throbbing. Feel yourself getting closer. Just from being told what to do? Pay attention to the throbbing. Fuck yourself hard a minute again. Then keep it there. That’s it, yes. I’m sure you must be quite the sight. I want you to be noisy. To be loud. Get wild. Buck your hips against the toy. That’s it. So obedient.

 My legs tensed the moment the knot inside my stomach reached its peak. I let out a high-pitched breath inside the blanket and let my head fall back on the pillow. I hadn’t realized I had contracted my whole body, and let out a chuckle at the realization. Slowly, I turned back to the screen, moving my tired arms to type back.

 Entertain me: I am good, exhausted, and I came, sir.

 I laid back on the pillow with another sigh. What time is it? How long did this take? I should probably get up and get cleaned but I’m too lazy right now.

 A real doctor: Good.

 I saw him type but typed my question faster.

 Entertain me: But it’s weird, you didn’t get to get off. Do you need anything? I could send you pictures if you want, I feel kind of bad that you just… helped me out and I did not do anything.

A real doctor: Oh, you did plenty. I get off on knowing you did as I instructed. And you did, didn’t you?

Entertain me: Yes, of course. Yeah, it was hot… And I enjoyed it, yes.

A real doctor: Is that so? Anything else you’d like to share? I’ve never had such obedient girl. You are very interesting.

Entertain me: Come on, it’s just in this setting that I’m like that. I’m very feisty in real life, I was just wondering what it’d feel like to let go of the control for once, I guess.

Entertain me: But if you need more feedbacks… I hated/loved how long you took to up the speed, and I am genuinely physically drained haha. But in a good way! A very good way.

A real doctor: Let’s talk more once you’ve hydrated. Get some water, and if you can, get cleaned up. I’ll be right here, alright?

Entertain me: right, right. Brb.

 Moving the laptop on my pillow while I sat up, I wrapped my toy with the towel that I had set under myself. When my feet met the ground and I balanced myself, I felt my legs wobbling a bit then made my way to the bathroom silently. I turned on the sink and let the water flow until it was warm and cleaned my toy before cleaning myself and getting changed.

 I made a detour by the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and a sandwich before going back to my bed and sitting down, tailor-style, with my laptop in front of me. There were a few new messages from the doctor, so I put down my food and was ready to reply.

 A real doctor: If you’re willing, I would like to see a picture of your body to check if you’re good.

A real doctor: Now this website does not allow it, but if you have any media in mind, I’m all ears.

Entertain me: Yeah, sure, yep. I don’t have any bruises or anything, but if you’re that worried yeah! Maybe Discord? You’re a doctor, I feel like you don’t have discord.

A real doctor: I don’t know if you’re bratty, or if you are being an idiot on purpose.

Entertain me: omg none? I was voicing my train of thought!

A real doctor: Right. HandSurgeon#4766

Entertain me: Funny name, don’t judge mine. It’s my personal discord, so no sexy pic just, well you’ll see.

 Going to the friend list, I pasted the username in the search bar and added him. I was added back very fast and bided him good night on the website once I was sure it was him on discord. I made sure to save the conversation, just in case… Maybe for later use, if I felt bored.

 HandSurgeon: I don’t even know what’s your profile picture, but I’m not going to mention it again.

Edelweiss: It’s a tardigrade, come on. It’s fun, a bit, right?

Edelweiss: Anyway, let me take that nude for you sir 😉

HandSurgeon: Don’t call it that, it’s to check if you didn’t go too crazy.

Edelweiss: That’s what they say, then they ask for more

 I had to strip down naked once more to take the picture before getting dressed back up, it was getting late but I was still buzzing with energy. I probably won’t talk about this with my roommates, but if they asked why I was up so late I’d have to find an excuse. Telling them I was working would probably work, but then I’d get yelled at for not taking care of myself and having the worse sleep schedule.

 Edelweiss: [sent an attachment]

Edelweiss: Here we go. Sorry if I’m not your type, maybe we should have talked about that first. Now I’m self-conscious, but it’s too late haha…

HandSurgeon: You look gorgeous, don’t go thinking you’re not my type. You are very, very hot. I can see you have food next to you, that’s good. You are taking care, good girl.

HandSurgeon: I can also see from your clock that we’re on the same time zone.

HandSurgeon: Which is good and bad, it’s already 3 am and you are not asleep. Why is that?

Edelweiss: living the student life, only the best life. I was working on some project for my master degree, and I thought: hey I’m horny, let’s go on that funny website.

Edelweiss: And here we are.

Edelweiss: Why are you awake? Shouldn’t you be… getting some sleep to be saving lives in the morning or something?

HandSurgeon: I had just finished a 10 hours surgery, I needed something to distract my mind while working on some paperwork. You did very well in being distracting.

 It felt a lot more real when I read his message. It was now sinking in that he was really a doctor, not any kind, a surgeon. I was not going to ask more details, the less I knew the better. But it was slightly intimidating and at the same time interesting to know he was the real deal. My pride was swelling when I read I was able to distract him from his work, he had done his fair share of helping me out too.

 Edelweiss: I am sorry? Is it… important paperwork? I could let you be, if you want. We could talk another time, when you’re free? My sleeping schedule is fucked up, I don’t know about yours but I am going to be online many late nights haha.

Edelweiss: if you want to, of course. Maybe you don’t want to hear from me again. Actually, I thought I’d be the one to leave the website and not come back, but I kind of enjoyed our session… I wouldn’t mind doing this a bit more if we’re both in the mood of course.

HandSurgeon: You’re so nervous. Don’t be, I’m not going to let you go. What kind of dom would I be if I let such an obedient girl go? Go to sleep, we’ll talk later Edelweiss. Any reason for that name?

Edelweiss: god I didn’t want you to ask, it’s just. It’s a cool flower, it means strength and toughness you know? I’m a tough woman, I deal with shit. I can handle shit, you know?

 I read my message many times, thinking maybe I should have found something funny but thought not. It was just bonding, we were discussing, getting to know one another. It wasn’t half bad. I turned off my computer, and moved to Discord on my phone, to keep talking. When I looked at his picture, it was just a white bear, it looked cute. Funny how he had such a cute picture and he was domming someone on the side, two sides of the same coin I suppose. Come to think of it, maybe he could be an old man, maybe he wasn’t who he said he was…

 HandSurgeon: Interesting, I like it. It’s better than calling you ‘Entertain me’. Not very creative, if you ask me.

Edelweiss: Oh right, because ‘A real doctor’ is better? Maybe you’re not even a doctor. Maybe you’re catfishing me. And I sent you a nude. Oh my god…

HandSurgeon: I am not catfishing you, I can send you a picture. What do you need on it?

Edelweiss: Uh, I don’t know? Write down my name on a paper, and hold it against your chest, then take the picture? With the date! Yeah.

 There wasn’t any reply for a moment, I was starting to panic. Then I received the picture and gasped loudly. Surrounded by the darkness of the room, it was all that could drown my shock. I had to take a double take as I wrote back.

 HandSurgeon: [sent an attachment]

Edelweiss: I mean, … Thank you for... it’s uh. Very. You’re not catfishing me. Nope. I understand why HandSurgeon now, you uh. Yep. Nice gloved hands, very slender. Most people would have held a huge piece of paper between their index finger and their thumb.

Edelweiss: but you opted for middle finger and index. And a smaller paper. Almost as if you were posing really. I do not mind. It’s uh. Enjoyable. Not an old man, no. And the scrubs and all, love it.

HandSurgeon: The scrubs, yes. You believe me, good. You can rest easy now, go to sleep Edelweiss. You probably have work to do tomorrow, and so do I.

HandSurgeon: Sleep well.

Edelweiss: Sweet dreams doc!

 I stared at the screen a bit longer before leaving the app and turning my phone face down on my night stand. What a night. I was so tired, and yet buzzing with excitement. It was strange, it was a strange dynamic but I wanted to discover more. I wanted to know more about this world. What else could this man offer me?

 Closing my eyes, I thought, maybe I could buy a connected sex toy? Sure, they were for couples, but they could definitely be used for other people. It could be fitting if I wanted to give him the control…

 My hands met my face full force and I groaned, I had met this man at best 4 hours ago and I was already desperate to have another session. I was already desperate to let him have the control.

 But it felt nice, so nice to not be in control for once. Yes, I had to hold the toy and read, but he was the one guiding me, it was elating! God, what am I doing? No, it’s alright. I’m an adult, he’s an adult. We’re both consenting adults, having fun. Nothing bad there.

 I’m a sore adult though. Maybe I’d need a few days before letting him have his fun. My eyes closed; I was thinking back on how his undershirt was hugging his form. Was it legal to look like that? I mean, I did not know what he looked like, but the little I saw was enough to make someone dream. His long-sleeved grey shirt was showing off his muscles and it definitely made me weak.

 I scoffed into my pillow, a surgeon. I wonder what else his hands could do. Fortunately, I’ll never meet him in real life, if I met the man I did not know if I’d want to jump him or run away from how intimidating his entire being was.

 It only took me a lot of stupid questions and day dreaming, for my brain to finally shut down and let me sleep. I went to sleep a lot easier than I usually did, perhaps it was because of the nice fucking I gave myself. Or perhaps it was thanks to the energy I spent overthinking the situation. Whichever it was, I was passed out in no time.

 Tomorrow I’ll talk more to the hot doctor and have a bit more fun with him.

[Part 2]

[spacedikut]

how to ask a girl out ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x reader

summary: elle sees an opportunity to teach spencer about asking a girl out. 3275 words

a/n: based on this scene. this is the longest fic ive ever written so sorry if it’s a painful read 

Spencer feels creepy staring at you like this.

There’s no other way to put it. He feels like he’s twelve again, the youngest in his Las Vegas high school, staring at all the pretty girls that get his heart racing just by existing. But you’re more enchanting than those girls. He could watch you do anything, he thinks, because no matter what you’re doing you look picture perfect, like you don’t have a single bad angle.

Spencer still has the social skills of twelve year old him, though. Especially when dealing with cute people.

“You know,” The voice makes Spencer jump, “If you stare long enough, she just might notice.”

Elle is smirking with her arms crossed, shooting Spencer an incriminating look. He tenses.

Seeing his discomfort, Elle relents, “I’m teasing, Reid.” He visibly relaxes against the door frame he’s half hiding behind, half leaning against.

“I’m not trying to be weird.” He mumbles. Elle thinks he sounds like a kid that was caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“I know you’re not. Have you… spoken to her?”

You’re somewhat new to the unit. Some kind of assistant to JJ who joined several months ago (three months and three days, if Spencer counted correctly) (he did), which means the team don’t see you that much, just enough that you’ve been the topic of discussion a few times. It doesn’t help that JJ sings your praise, and Hotch recently revealed you made yourself available for babysitting his new-born if he ever needs it. Every time someone mentions you, it’s followed by some kind of compliment. Everyone loves you. Spencer has said all of five words to you, and he’s smitten.

“Hi. I’m Spencer. A doctor.”

When you were introduced you didn’t pay him much attention. He can’t blame you, it was overwhelming for you – being introduced to a whole bunch of FBI agents and then thrown head-first into sorting cases for them. But Spencer paid attention. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. Derek’s caught him staring one too many times, but it isn’t Spencer’s fault he can’t stop thinking about you. You enter the room and Spencer’s attention is pulled to you, like a magnet.

Derek thinks it’s time he made a move. Spencer agreed and maintained that confidence for all of fifteen minutes, until he heard your joyful laugh dance down the hallway and his tongue felt too heavy to form words.

That’s when Elle noticed.

Across the room, you’re laughing at something Derek said with JJ. Seeing you smile makes Spencer smile, and Elle nudges him.

“Have you considered approaching her? Rather than, you know, watching her from afar like she’s prey?”

Spencer huffs, “You think I haven’t tried?”

Every time he’s moved to start a conversation, he finds himself unable to complete a single sentence. After he says hello, then what? He dies?

Elle breathes through her nose in frustration. “She’s a nice girl. I’ve spoken to her a couple of times. She mentioned the other day she wants to visit the local museum, since she just moved and hasn’t really explored yet. Shame no one is available to accompany her, right?”

“Are you implying something?”

“Yes.”

“I-I don’t. I can’t-“

“You can’t or you won’t?”

Spencer’s always admired Elle’s ability to be blunt and fearless. But he isn’t Elle, Elle isn’t him, so to him it doesn’t feel like he simply chooses to pussy out of talking to you – it feels like he’s physically constrained. Like he’s fighting against the tide of the ocean to reach you, and he keeps getting pushed back, further and further away from you.

Elle’s eyes shift between you and Spencer, like she’s watching a tennis match. “Just go up and ask her. It’s that simple. If she says no, she says no. No big deal!”

Spencer shakes his head, “I can’t do that. It’s Y/N! She’s-she’s-“

“A normal human being. You know, like you and me? The second you start putting people on pedestals is when things start falling apart.” She pats him on the shoulder as encouragement, “Have some confidence, Reid.”

And she walks away, as if just telling him to have some confidence will make him suddenly have the courage to whisk you off your feet.

He wishes he could whisk you off your feet.

+++

The paperwork is never ending. Times like this, Spencer considers recanting his stance on technology – maybe having everything on an online database would be a good idea. The stacks upon stacks around him would agree.

A paper ball hits the back of Spencer’s head.

He turns, slowly, and Elle gives a wave from her desk. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Can I… help you?”

“Yes, you can.” She nods to the paper on the floor, “Read it.”

He leans and grabs the ball from the floor, opening it with furrowed brows.

Step 1: Actually talk to her.

Suddenly, Elle is standing right next to him, looking all-too-pleased with herself. She leans over him.

“What does this mean?”

“You wanna date Y/N? Talk to her. That means marching right up to her pretty little face and saying more than, like, a few words to her. You need to have a conversation with her to let her know you’re interested.”

Elle’s clearly confident in her plan, but it seems she’s forgetting an important detail – this is Spencer that she’s dealing with. Not Derek, who can charm anyone out of anything (or into anything), not Hotch who, when he wants to be, is the smoothest criminal ever. Not even Gideon, with his soft eyes that make anyone that stares into them feel safe. He’s Spencer Reid who, according to one guy, looks like a pipe cleaner with eyes.

Spencer’s hesitant to take any of Elle’s advice.

“What would I… say to her?” He asks. If he does talk to you, what does he even say? Do you even want to talk to him? What if you immediately hate him and JJ beats him up? She could do it. He’s seen her guns.

Elle looks at him incredulously, “Reid! C’mon! Anything! Ask how her day has been, if she had a good weekend, are there plans for this weekend… Literally anything.” Spencer gives a look of distrust, “You’ll know if she’s interested, trust me. She’ll reciprocate. If she doesn’t, she’s not up for it, and there’s your answer without even asking her out.”

At that moment, you and JJ appear from thin air, whispering to one another with your arms full of files. Both Spencer and Elle’s watchful gazes follow you right up until JJ’s office door is clicked shut and when you can only slightly be seen through the blinds, Spencer still stares. Elle hits him over the head.

“Pay attention!”

“She’s distracting!”

“She walked by you, not gave you a lap dance! Focus on the plan!”

With a sigh, he looks back to the crumpled paper in his hands. “What’s step two?”

The paper’s yanked out of his hands and Elle furiously scribbles something before handing it back to him.

Step 2: Make her laugh.

“I can’t do that.”

She scoffs, “Reid.”

“People laugh at me, Elle, not with me. The only way she’ll laugh is if I make a complete fool of myself and when I do that, I’m running away and never looking back. You’ll never see me again.”

Sick of the self-deprecation, Elle leans close to Spencer’s face and begins to whisper menacingly.

“Listen, bud,” She threatens, “You need to stop being so hard on yourself. You’re young, you’re inexperienced – that’s why approaching Y/N is so terrifying. Not because she’s out of your league, or you’re not good enough, it’s because you’ve never done this before. It’s simply a fear of stepping out of your comfort zone, so stop being so hard on yourself.”

Spencer isn’t sure how to respond, silently wishing something could get him out of this situation. He’s not used to being complimented so ferociously.

God answers his prayers. In the worst way possible.

“Incoming. Make her laugh, Reid.” Elle says, slinking off back to her desk.

Spencer quickly realises you’re approaching and his hands grip the armrests of his chair. He’s not ready for this. He wishes he had time to prepare, maybe google how to woo a woman, but you’re in front of him, all precious smiles with a manila folder in your hand.

“Hi, Doctor Reid.”

Your voices sounds like heaven. He can’t help but think, despite only listening to classical music, he could listen to your voice and only your voice if given the option. It’s like honey, sweet and smooth, and something inside him stirs. Everything about you is lovely.

He clears his throat and nervously wipes at his nose, “Hey. What can I do for you?”

“I was told to bring this to you,” You hand him the folder, “And JJ wanted me to check up on you. She said you’ve been working non-stop and that you probably consumed your bodyweight in coffee with enough sugar to give a small army diabetes. My guess is she wants to check your heart is still beating.”

Spencer laughs at that, which encourages you to giggle along. He freezes when he sees the way your eyes scrunch and smile widens when you laugh – he’d only seen it from a distance, up close it feels intimate and causes his throat to tighten. When your laughter dies, you’re left with an awkward silence as he stares. You shuffle your feet.

Elle is trying to look like she isn’t paying attention, but in her head she’s screaming at Spencer to say something!!!

“Sorry for disturbing you if you’re – um – if you’re busy.” You gesture to the mess on Spencer’s desk, and it’s then that he realises how his silence could’ve looked – to him, you quite literally took his breath away, but to you? He’s a weirdo that is still holding the file mid-air and hasn’t said a thing for far too long.

“No! No,” Spencer brushes his hair back, “Thank you for the file. JJ’s right, I should probably take a break-“

He looks up then. This is his chance, right?

“Are you busy right now?”

You glance around and your eyes find JJ’s office, where she’s signalling for you to come over, “Yeah. Sorry.”

It feels like a punch in the gut – is this rejection? – but there’s a look of sadness that crosses your face. Your mouth falls at the edges and your brows slightly crease – do you wish you weren’t busy?

If Spencer didn’t feel like he’s seconds away from vomiting, he’d ask. Maybe. That sounds a whole lot like flirting and he isn’t sure he can handle that.

You quickly leave, not before you tell him to look after himself (his heart swells), and the second you’re far enough away Elle is marching right over and throwing the paper at him, again, even though she’s standing right in front of him.

“She rejected me.”

“Yea- wait, what?” Elle starts to celebrate, but stops at her words, “No she didn’t. Did we see different things?”

“It sure felt like rejection. Felt weird.”

“That was the perfect chance to ask her to go out after work or maybe on the weekend, but, in your defence, that’s a Derek-level response and we’re not quite there yet. Step three, go.”

Spencer unfolds the paper ball begrudgingly, wondering if any of this is actually worth it.

Step 3: Get JJ to back the fuck up.

Spencer laughs.

“Either you tell JJ you like her assistant and ask for her help, or you tell JJ you like her assistant and that she needs to stop using her so much.” Elle sounds matter-of-fact and confident.

“You want me to tell JJ to stop giving her assistant work?” Spencer asks, face scrunched.

With a shrug, Elle says, “Or you could ask her to help you. She knows the most about Y/N.”

Looking up to JJ’s office, he realises how true Elle’s statement is. JJ knows you better than anyone else here, you’ve quickly become good friends, and JJ wouldn’t lie to Spencer about you if it involved his feelings. He trusts JJ like that.

But then you throw your head back in laughter, a hearty laugh that JJ follows with her own tinkling chuckle, and Spencer is reminded of the sinking feeling he’s had when he’s been rejected before. The emotional slap in the face that causes you to lose all confidence. In his head, he rationalises that attempting to ask you out is pointless. You won’t like him, scrawny profiler who follows his team members like a lost puppy, the guy unable to maintain eye contact for more than four seconds. The logical side, however, the side that runs the show when Spencer is on a case and hides his feelings, tells him he has nothing to lose. Morgan would be proud of him, not ashamed, because Spencer had the guts to ask someone out – Spencer! Elle would understand and tell him something about learning for next time, and the rest of the team wouldn’t really care.

He has nothing to lose and everything to gain. A date with you? A relationship with you? That’d feel like winning the lottery. It feels more likely than winning the lottery, too.

Then Morgan walks past him, more like swaggers, all good looks and charm and everything Spencer doesn’t have.

Spencer decides he’ll save himself the rejection.

+++

JJ gets involved without Spencer realising. He connects the dots on the way back to Virginia, after a case in which you were brought along instead of JJ.

There was a “family emergency”, apparently, after the debrief and right before take-off. Although it wasn’t your first case, it was your first time travelling with the team. When you pad in, sparkling eyes gliding all around the jet, Spencer zeroes in on the gruesome scene photos to avoid being caught staring.

You fit into the role flawlessly. It’s like you were born for the part, effortlessly slipping into the job of communicator between the team and the police force, standing fearlessly in front of the press as they piled on the pressure.

In the conference room where the team set up, he noticed you actively try to stay out of the way whilst simultaneously help in any way you could. You offered coffee every two hours (Spencer counted), cleaned up any and all rubbish the team left around – burger wrappers, useless post-it notes – and mothered the team by reminding them they need breaks, too.

At the hotel, you jokingly poked Spencer in the shoulder and said, “No more coffee for you. You’ll get a sugar rush and won’t be able to sleep.”

“Like a toddler?”

“Exactly like a toddler. Straight to bed for you.”

You grinned at eachother before you separated to go to your rooms. Around three am, Spencer instinctively went to make himself a drink but stopped and thought of you. He decided for that night, just that night, he could get a somewhat decent amount of sleep.

Now, on the flight home, Gideon pauses before his move in their third game of chess to stare at something behind Spencer’s shoulder. When he notices, Spencer turns to see what has his mentor’s attention and stutters when it’s you. You, looking like you’re straight out of a cheesy romance movie when you push your hair back while reading your book.

Gideon switches from staring at you to staring at Spencer.

“She’s a pretty girl, huh?”

Spencer knows where this is going.

“Elle told me you’re sweet on her.”

“Elle shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Elle has been watching you two the entire case.”

“Elle-“

Gideon clears his throat, making Spencer finally make eye contact, “You scared? Worried?”

“About what?” Spencer asks.

“Rejection. If she’ll laugh in your face, say something about never wanting anyone like you.”

Sometimes, Spencer is terrified of Gideon’s ability to read people. He swears he has this inhuman ability to take a peek into people’s minds, read their most intrusive and negative thoughts, and confront them about them. Like he’s doing to Spencer now.

“Something like that, yeah,” Spencer murmurs. He shuffles uncomfortably in his seat, “It’s your move.”

“I know.” Gideon nods to you, making Spencer look again, “Don’t you think, in twenty years’ time, you’d want to look back at this moment and be glad you asked? No matter the outcome? Rather than wondering if she’d said yes, asking all kinds of what-ifs…”

“You’re telling me to ask her out?”

Gideon gives Spencer a smile that fills him with confidence. He doesn’t know what it is, but he trusts Gideon with his whole life. If he tells him to go for it, then he should go for it, right?

“I happen to know the Virginia museum is having a deal on tickets if you order them online. Might be something to look into.” He sounds borderline smug now.

With one last look to Gideon, he stands and slowly waddles to the chair opposite you.

“Mind if I sit?” He asks, a hand gently resting on the back of the empty seat. You startle slightly at the unexpected voice, but gesture for him to sit with a smile.

“How are you feeling?” You wonder, squinting slightly as the sun shines in your eyes. It makes them sparkle, and Spencer has never understood wanting to drown in someone’s eyes until that moment.

“Just glad the case is over. You did a great job, by the way, filling in for JJ last minute.” Spencer is surprised that his voice doesn’t crack or stop completely.

You beam at the praise, “Thank you. JJ’s got some big boots to fill, even if it’s for one case.”

He shrugs and pulls a face as if you’ve said something ridiculous, “Don’t sell yourself short. When she realises how good you are, she’ll start taking all kinds of holidays.” He jokes.

He can’t help but grin when you laugh.

Elle passes. In the very brief eye contact they make, Elle’s eyes are wide and jumping from you to Spencer, Spencer to you. She’s sending him a message, and he bets Gideon is watching, too.

“Hey,” He starts, leaning on the table between you. You instinctively lean closer, too, which Spencer takes as a positive sign, “How would you.. like…”

He has to take a second to inhale a shaky breath and nervously push his hair behind his ears. You wait, all patient and divine, and his eyes dash around your face.

“To go to the museum with me?”

It comes out rushed and you look confused. “Huh?”

Spencer tries again, after clearing his throat, “How would you like to go to the museum with me? When we get back. As a date.”

“You’re asking me on a date?”

“…Yes?”

If you weren’t staring directly at him, he’d think you were making fun of him and about to unleash a nice bout of rejection.

You move one hand to lean your face against, moving in a little closer, “I would love that.”

Spencer is speechless. You would love that?

“Oh- wow. Yeah, thanks. Good.”

Who says thanks when someone agrees to go on a date with them?

You giggle.

“We’ll plan when we get back?” You ask.

“Yes. Definitely.” He nods three times.

You can’t help but bite your lip, he’s too cute, and it immediately draws Spencer’s attention.

Behind you both, Gideon turns to Elle. “Success.”

Elle rolls her head against the back of her seat and stares out the window, “Step four: Get Gideon to get the job done.”

[snelbz]

Spitting Image

Based on the anonymous prompt:  “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?”

Co-written, as always, with @tacmc​.

Fanfiction Masterlist

My Ask Box

Cassian had been infuriated when he left his flat, but as he sat in his car outside of Nesta’s house, there was a hollowness settled in the pit of his stomach.

He hadn’t been back in Velaris for long. He hadn’t expected to be back so soon, but he missed his family too much to stay in the north forever. After their constant begging, and after he’d gotten his college diploma, he was packing up and moving back to the city of starlight.

Where she was.

He’d been avoiding her so far, hadn’t seen her once in the month he’d been home.

Until he found out.

Then he was going to confront her, going to pound on her door and demand how she couldn’t have told him. He was going to yell, was going to look her in the eye for the first time in years and demand answers she’d never given him.

Nothing came to him, though, as he sat in his car, staring at her front door.

None of it made any sense. It made as little now as it had then, when a single text message had shredded his heart, and sitting here, staring at the unfamiliar house, Cassian felt all those old wounds reopening.

With a weary sigh, he let his forehead fall against the steering wheel and he closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure how they had ended up here, how any of this had happened, but he knew exactly what day everything had changed.

Just like everything else in his life, Cassian had gotten his information to Adriata’s head coach just days before the deadline, going back and forth on the decision of whether or not he should pursue his dream. Summer training was slated to start the following Monday and when his phone rang, he never expected it to be Tarquin Hadrian himself.

He’d immediately texted Nesta, telling her he had good news and that he was on his way to see her. He had to get packed. He was leaving for Adriata tonight.

She texted back and told him she had news, too, but he was so excited, he didn’t even think to ask what it was. He knew she’d tell him as soon as he got there.

But she hadn’t, because Cassian had gone first.

He’d told her about the scholarship, told him his education was paid for at one of the best universities in the country. He’d told her that he would be playing football, starting as a freshman.

Then she’d told him she was proud of him, told him how amazing it all was. Cassian was so hyped up that he forgot to ask what her news was.

She broke up with him soon after, because he would be too far away, and long distance was too hard. Cassian had left, and never heard from Nesta Archeron again.

Now, he would.

As soon as he got the nerve to get out of his car.

He looked at the clock on the dash. 

He’d been there for nearly half an hour.

It was time.

Cassian closed his eyes and took a deep breath before throwing open his door and getting out.

He was sure she had to know he was back. He’d been to dinner with Elain and Azriel the night before. They’d firmly avoided the topic of the eldest Archeron sister, just as every conversation had since he’d arrived back in Velaris. Just as he’d been doing to the woman herself.

As he walked up the cobblestone path to the door, he was struck by just how much the home looked like it was made for Nesta. It was older, but you’d never be able to tell. Not with the glossy, navy shutters and the cheery garden out front. He was sure that was courtesy of Elain, rather than Nesta.

When he lifted his hand to knock, all of the anger that had built and built in him fell away and he felt a pang of nerves growing in his gut.

Five years.

It had been five years since he’d seen Nesta Archeron. Five years of wondering how she was, what she was doing, who she was with.

With a final deep breath, he knocked on the door. Cassian wasn’t sure what he was expecting when the door opened, but it sure as shit wasn’t Tomas fucking Mandray.

Cassian froze.

As did Tomas.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Tomas asked, which Cassian thought was funny, because he was just about to ask Tomas the same question.

“I need to talk to Nesta,” he said, evenly.

“Too bad,” he replied, leaning against the door frame. “She’s unavailable.”

Cassian rolled his eyes and said, “Cut the cheeky bullshit. I need to talk to her and it’s important.”

Nothing in his life had ever been this important. Not even the championship games he’d had the honor of playing in…and winning. And he knew nothing would ever be as important again.

“You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve,” Tomas said, stepping out and getting eye to eye with Cassian. He hadn’t remembered being taller than the man, but he felt a small bit of pride as he had to look up at him. “Coming back after all these years, trying to come in like you still have a claim on her.”

Cassian had to take a moment to catch his breath, to remind himself that causing a scene, that kicking Tomas’ ass, would do no good. 

“Go get Nesta,” Cassian said, simply, calmly. “I’m not leaving here until I talk to her.”

“Then you’ll be waiting a long ass time,” Tomas said, his voice low. 

“I’ll wait,” he replied.

The two men stared at one another, unblinkingly. 

Her footsteps began creaking down the old wooden stairs behind Tomas, and the moment that Cassian saw her, every thought he’d ever had fell from his mind. It went completely blank, and he suddenly began to panic as every emotion he’d ever had for Nesta flooded the surface. 

Love, lust, complete adoration.

Anger, hatred, complete heartbreak. 

“Who’s here?” Nesta asked, reading a novel as she walked. She always had her nose in a book. 

Tomas lifted his chin. “No one. He was just leaving.”

Nesta looked up then, and on the bottom step, she froze. Her eyes connected with Cassian’s, and her lips fell open. She didn’t move, didn’t breathe, didn’t do a thing.

“Tomas, I think you should head home,” she said, voice so quiet that Cassian was surprised he could hear it.

He turned around, staring at her. “Are you kidding me?”

“Please,” she said. “Go.”

Without another word, he walked towards the back of the house. Nesta was staring at her feet, still not looking at him, but gods, he was staring at her. She was so beautiful, as beautiful the day he’d kissed her goodbye.

He had no idea it would be the last time he’d ever feel her lips on his.

Tomas emerged again, a black backpack slung over his shoulder, keys in his hand. He didn’t look at Nesta, just brushed past Cassian as he left, shoving him with his shoulder.

After a few seconds of silence, Cassian cleared his throat, but Nesta spoke first. “I heard you were back in town.”

“Didn’t try to call though,” Cassian said, the words not as hard as he intended them to be. He stepped through the threshold and closed the door behind him.

Nesta sighed and said, “I’ve been busy. Would you like some coffee?”

So formal. So polite. So unlike the firey girl he’d loved.

“You know, why I’m here, Nes,” he breathed, the familiar nickname falling from his lips. Before she could respond, he added, “Where is he?”

Her eyes fell closed and she rubbed at the spot between her eyes, just like she’d always done when he did something to infuriate her. “At school. It’s noon on a Tuesday.”

Of course he would be at school. Cassian hadn’t even thought about that on his way over. For a moment, he didn’t say a thing. Instead, he waited, waited for her to say something, anything, and when she didn’t, he was shaking his head.

Before he could speak, before he could blow up, Nesta asked, again, “Coffee?”

“I don’t want coffee,” Cassian said, quietly.

“You used to love coffee,” she pressed.

“I still do, I don’t want any right now.”

“Let me get you some coffee.” She was walking away before he could protest, yet again.

He wasn’t sure what to do, so he followed her down the hall, into the kitchen.

She was fixing a pot of coffee, refusing to meet his eyes still. 

“Nesta-.”

“How have you been?” she asked, the question rushing out of her as she pressed start on the coffee maker. 

“How have I been?” he repeated, exasperated.

“Yes, Cassian,” she said, pulling two mugs out of the cabinet and proceeding to dump two very healthy spoons of sugar into one of them and a normal amount into the other. “I haven’t talked to you in five years, I’d like to know how you’ve been.”

He blinked, not only at the fact that she still remembered exactly how to make his coffee, but as the genuine sincerity in her words. “What is this?” He asked, shaking his head. “I don’t understand what’s happening here?”

The pot gurgled as it finished brewing and Nesta pulled the carafe from its base and poured the coffee into the mugs. She picked them up and carefully carried them to the island where Cassian was leaning on his palms. “It’s two old friends catching up.”

The cold laugh left him before he could even think to stop it. “Old friends? Old friends? At least have the decency to call me your ex, Nes.”

She was so calm, as if she’d been expecting this reaction. As if she’d been preparing for this for nearly five years.

“Were we not friends?” she asked, sliding a mug across the island to him.

Cassian stared at her. He opened his mouth, but it soon fell shut, yet again. “Don’t.”

“I didn’t let you in to fight, Cass,” she said, quietly.

Cass.

His old nickname. She used to say it longing, lovingly. Now, it just seemed like an annoyance. 

“I’m not here to fight,” Cassian said, quietly, putting his hand around the mug. “I’m here for answers.” 

“I want to know how you’ve been,” Nesta continued, sipping from her steaming mug.

Cassian knew Nesta. He knew her better than most people. He knew that he would not win this argument. “I’ve been good. Living the fucking dream. Played football, got a degree, decided to come back home. And you? How have you been?”

His words were kind enough, but his tone was clipped, rushed, annoyed. He had no interest in small talk.

“Busy,” she admitted. “Got my degree, too, online though. And I started my own business. Interior design.”

Cassian couldn’t stop himself from looking around. The house was decorated impeccably. “Dating Tomas Mandray, I see,” he scoffed.

She almost spewed coffee across the counter, but she pulled herself together just in time. “Absolutely not,” she said, reaching for a paper towel to dab off her mouth. “He works for me, he balances my books.”

Blinking, his mug halfway to his own mouth, Cassian stared at her. And then he started laughing hysterically.

Nesta was staring at him. At first, she seemed concerned, then she was amused. “Does that please you?”

“I just…” he began, his laughter dying down. “I can’t believe I thought he was with you to begin with.” 

Nesta stared at him for a moment, until his laughter became obsolete. “Why did you come here, Cass?”

Cassian’s smile faded before he said, “You know why I’m here, Nesta.” 

She slowly set her mug down on the counter and looked up at him and sighed quietly.

He asked, “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?”

“Of course not,” she breathed, her eyes sad. “I knew you would eventually, but you were living your dream. I wasn’t going to be the one to take that from you.”

He stared at her, unblinking and absolutely silent. When he spoke, he didn’t recognize his own voice. “Did you really think that I would care about football more than I would care about my own son? More than I cared about you?”

Nesta’s eyes fell closed and she let out a quiet, shuddering breath. “It didn’t matter, I wasn’t going to let you throw away your life-.”

“That wasn’t your decision to make!” He said, surprised by the elevation of his words, how genuinely hurt he was that she took that precious time from him. Time he couldn’t get back.

“Cassian-.” “No,” he said, before she could say anymore. “You should’ve told me.”

Nesta’s lips thinned out. “If I did, you would’ve dropped everything to come back here, and I just couldn’t…”

Cassian waited, and when she didn’t finish, Cassian shook his head. “Of course I would’ve come home. Would that have been so bad?” 

“Yes!” Nesta yelled, eyes wide. “You were living your dream, Cass!” 

“But you were here, having my kid!” he yelled, the words echoing throughout the empty kitchen.

He turned away, beginning to pace. “Is this why you ended it?” He asked, looking over at her. “So you wouldn’t have to visit, so I wouldn’t find out? Or did you dump me and it was just a happy accident?”

“Stop,” Nesta breathed.  

“I don’t wanna fucking stop!” Cassian yelled. “You had my kid, you were pregnant when I left, and you didn’t tell me!”

Nesta closed her eyes.

“I have been gone for five years, and I had no idea that I had a kid here!” Cassian continued, trying to contain himself, but being unable to.

The front door opened and little feet were hurrying down the hardwood floor towards them. “Mama, there’s a huuuuge truck outside! You have to come-.”

A little boy with blue-grey eyes and dark, curly hair froze as he came barreling into the kitchen, a Power Rangers backpack strapped to his back. Nesta glanced over at the clock, not realizing it was time for the bus to already be here. He slowly made his way to the middle of the kitchen, where she still stood, clutching her quickly cooling cup of coffee. “Are you still working, mama?” He quietly asked, looking at Cassian out of the corner of his eye.

It was a wonder Cassian hadn’t fallen to his knees the second he saw him. His eyes may have been the color of Nesta’s, but the shape was familiar in a way Cassian never thought he’d see. His lips were fuller than his own, so much like his mother’s. But the tan skin, the curly hair that was much longer than he was sure Nesta wanted it to be…

It was like looking into the most precious mirror, seeing a different version of himself, that he never knew existed, never knew he needed.  

“Hi, baby,” Nesta said, at last, meeting her son in the middle of the kitchen and wrapping him up in her arms. After giving him a kiss on his forehead, she asked, “Did you have a good day?”

“Yeah!” He replied. “I had art, and gym, and I learned about the letter Q.”

“Q?” Nesta asked, like it was the coolest thing she had ever heard. “That’s awesome, buddy.”

He looked back at Cassian. “Who are you?”

Cassian hadn’t realized he had been staring, hadn’t realized he had been analyzing every inch of the little man, his spitting image before him.

He was frozen, unable to think of his own name.

“Mommy has been doing some work for him for a while. He’s here to see it.”

His eyes flicked to Nesta, at the save she’d made for him, but at the truth of her words.

He cleared his throat and rounded the island, crouching down in front of him. “My name is Cassian.”

Those little eyes scrutinized him, with a look he’d seen from Nesta a thousand times, and he tilted his head to the side. Finally, he narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. His words were clipped. “Rhett.”

Nesta warned, “Everett Gideon.” His eyes turned up to look at his mother and he found her looking back at him, an eyebrow raised. “Manners.”

He stood up a little straighter and when he looked back at Cassian, he could see a familiar spark of mischief in those eyes. “My name is Rhett. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” Cassian said. “I like your name.”

“Thank you,” Rhett said, and turned around to storm out of the room.

Cassian watched him go.

“Hang your backpack up!” Nesta called after him. “And take off your shoes!”

Cassian hardly heard her. His son, Rhett. Five years old and probably full of attitude, considering who he was a biproduct of. He wasn’t sure what to think, wasn’t sure what thought to form.

Cassian looked at the doorway he had hurried out of for a long while. Nesta didn’t press. She simply waited, quietly.

After a moment, he breathed, “He… I…” 

He looked away and cleared his throat and Nesta pretended not to see the shimmering in his hazel eyes.

“I don’t know him… He doesn’t know me…” The words were quiet when he finally spoke. All at once, Nesta realized the anger was gone. What was left was a broken man. A father who wanted to know his son. “He’s five and he doesn’t know me.”

Nesta didn’t say anything, just calmly watched him, listening.

His words were soft, sad, when he said, “Did you not want me to know him?”

“Cassian,” Nesta began, but nothing else came out. She sighed and brushed her hair behind her ear. 

“Did you not want me to know him?” Cassian repeated, his voice catching on the words. 

“You had a dream,” Nesta said, simply. “I wasn’t about to ask you to stay.”

There it was. She’d said it before but it hust clicked in his head what she was saying.

Cassian was taken back. “What?”

She wasn’t even pretending to drink her coffee anymore, standing with her arms crossed, a hip pressed against the counter. She was gazing out the window, a faint smile on her lips. She cleared her throat, but when she finally spoke, Nesta’s voice still sounded tight. “You had the chance to do what you’d always wanted, Cass. You were getting to live out your dreams.” She turned to look at him and her eyes were soft. “I couldn’t take that from you.”

Cassian hesitated, unable to sort out his thoughts. “You… I…” He shook his head and raked a hand through his hair. “You knew you were pregnant before I left? With- With my child? You knew you were pregnant with my child and you let me move across the fucking country?”

“Did you not hear what I just said?” she snapped. 

“Of course, I did,” he breathed. “But I’m having a little bit of trouble understanding.”

Her eyes fluttered shut as she let loose a breath. “Do you know how long I’ve known you, Cass?”

Yes. Years. Nearly their entire lives.

“You always wanted to play football. You love it, and you always have,” she went on. “If I told you I was pregnant, you would’ve stayed, or you would’ve come back.”

“Of course, I would have!” Cassian yelled, meeting her eyes.

Her voice cracked as she said, “I wasn’t going to let you throw your entire life away for me!”

The silence settled in the kitchen and Cassian’s heavy breathing as he calmed himself was the only sound.

“I didn’t keep him from you to hurt you,” she said, at last. “I did it so you could do what you loved. I didn’t want you to resent me one day for losing that chance…”

Nesta didn’t have to say what else she was thinking. Cassian already knew.

Or Rhett.

None of this was his fault, yet his parents were screaming at each other in the kitchen, and there was no way he hadn’t heard.

Cassian let his elbows land on the hard countertop and his face fell into his hands.

“Five years,” he whispered, his voice muffled by his hands. “Five years and I’ve been… Damn it, Nesta.” 

There was no anger in his voice, hardly anything at all in his voice. 

“I already told you-.”

“You should’ve told me,” he interrupted, quietly. “You should’ve told me you were pregnant, should’ve told me he was born. You should’ve told me that he existed, Nesta, I have a son. What does he think of his father? That I don’t care? That I abandoned him? That I was just never around?”  

“No, I-.”

“Has he ever even asked?” Cassian breathed. “I mean… I’ve known about him for less than twenty-four hours, and he’s all I thought about, Nes. And, ultimately… I feel like shit. Five years… For five years, I had a kid out there and I missed it. I missed all of it, missed five years of my kid growing up.”

“But you got to do what you loved,” she said, quietly, looking away from him. “You got to play football. We watched you on TV,” she said, a soft laugh that sounded suspiciously like a sob falling from her lips. “He loves football, too.”

He’d had it, something in him snapped. He rounded the island and took her face into his hands. “I loved you,” he said, “and you making that decision for me, without telling me, I lost precious years with him. Precious years I could have had with you.”

Nesta’s eyes fell shut. No lie had ever hurt as badly as telling Cassian she didn’t want to be with him anymore. It was the hardest thing she’d ever done. Of course, there were times she wished he was there. But knowing he was happy and living the life he’d always dreamed of, especially after his hard life… It had been worth the struggle.

“You couldn’t miss out on it,” Nesta said, quietly, her eyes shut. “I don’t regret it.” 

“I do,” he replied, without any hesitation. “I would’ve come back in a heartbeat, would have been a part of his life, a part of both of your lives, and I would have had no regrets, Nes.”

“Maybe not yet.” She shook her head, her eyes still shut. “But you would have regretted it, eventually.”

Cassian knew Nesta, and he knew that she was adamant, that her mind had been made up long ago. There was nothing he could say that would make her believe that she had made the wrong decision, and he knew when to stop trying.

He didn’t take his hands off her face.

“Why did you tell me you didn’t want to be with me anymore?” He breathed.

She didn’t hesitate. “Because I knew it was the only way you’d let me go.”

He was shaking his head. “Damn it, Nesta, I didn’t want to let you go. I wanted to spend forever with you. I wanted to have a family with you.” He let his forehead fall against hers as his eyes fell shut. “I just... I didn’t know I already had one coming.”

Nesta didn’t say she was sorry.

Cassian knew she wouldn’t, knew she would have stuck by what she had done, whether she was truly sorry or not. 

The hesitation in her eyes told Cassian that she may have thought she was sorry, after all.

“I could live without football, Nes.” Cassian whispered. “I could have done without it. It’s a game-.”

“We were young,” Nesta fought, quietly.

“It’s a fucking game,” he repeated, a little more bite in his voice. “Just a game.”

“That game was your life,” Nesta snapped.

“You were my fucking life,” he hissed.

“I won’t ever apologize for letting you live your dream.”

He asked, “And will you apologize for lying?”

Nesta blinked. “About what?”

His words were hard. “For telling me you didn’t love me.”

Shame flashed in Nesta’s eyes. “Of course I am.”

“And what about now?” He breathed.

“Now?” She asked.

“Are you sorry about it now?” He asked. “Do you still love me?”

The words hung in the air between them.

Nesta’s voice was barely audible when she said, “That’s not a fair question.”

Cassian fought the urge to laugh. What the hell did she know about fair? “Answer the question.” 

“I can’t,” she said, her voice breaking as she shook her head. “I can’t.” 

“Why?” he asked, growing frustrated, and he hated being frustrated, because when he was frustrated he didn’t know how to handle it, not well. “Just answer the question, Nesta. Do you still love me?” 

“I’m not answering that,” she repeated, as a tear slid down her cheek.

“Because I still love you,” Cassian continued, pretending she hadn’t spoken, knowing she was still lying to his face. “I still love you, I have never stopped loving you, Nesta.”

“Cassian, we-.”

“Every year apart, every month, every day, I have always loved you. I’ve tried to get over you, I really have, but I can’t,” he breathed. “It’s always been you, it will always be you.”

She shook her head again, closing her eyes in a pointless attempt to stop the tears that ran down her face.

“If you don’t love me, just tell me.” The words hurt, even as he said them. “I’ll keep my feelings to myself, but I want to be in Rhett’s life. Please.”

The fact that he was putting her feelings before his own, putting Rhett above them… “I love you just as much today as I did the day I sent those damn text messages. I didn’t just break your heart that day,” Nesta breathed, looking up into his hazel eyes. “I broke my own, too.”

Cassian leaned down and pressed his forehead gently against hers. “I have waited years to hear you tell me that you love me,” he whispered. “Years.” 

Nesta let out a slow breath.

Cassian’s lips met hers. 

He wasted no time, didn’t even bother with a warning before he was sliding his tongue along her bottom lip. Nesta melted into him, finding just as much comfort as she always had in his arms.

Her arms wrapped around his neck and Cassian lifted her up, setting her on the counter and standing between her legs. He ran his hands up and down her thighs and let one of his hands thread through her hair, and-.

“Mommy?”

Cassian was jumping back and Nesta was pushing her hair back off of her face and dropping off the counter. “Hey, baby. I thought you were upstairs?”

But Rhett’s little gaze wasn’t on Nesta, it was on Cassian. “Why were you kissing my mommy?”

Even Cassian’s quick wit didn’t have an answer for that. Nesta was beet red so he knew she wasn’t going to be any help. He opened his mouth spew some some bullshit to hopefully chill the anger he could see growing in those little eyes, but he was surging across the kitchen and began battering his tiny fists against his stomach. “You can’t kiss my mommy, she’s waiting for my daddy!”

Cassian hesitated, but didn’t move, nor did he bother to ask the child to stop hitting him in the stomach. In fact, he simply put his hands in his pockets and let Rhett punch him again and again and again.

It reminded Cassian of himself at that age.

“Rhett,” Nesta demanded, now that she had regained her composure. “Stop. Now.” 

He was frowning, but he did just as his mother asked. 

“We do not hit,” Nesta chastised. “Now, apologize.”

Rhett crossed his little arms. “No.”

“It’s okay, he thinks he’s protecting you,” Cassian whispered. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Nesta said, not looking away from her son. “He knows better. Apologize, now.”

“But if you’re kissing him, what about my daddy?” He said, and his little lip was wobbling, but Nesta could tell he was trying his hardest not to cry.

Cassian’s heart broke watching the scene in front of him, watching his son. He wished he could say something, do something. But this wasn’t his call. He hadn’t been here for five years. Rhett had no idea who he was. He looked up at Nesta, seeing the battle she was having within herself.

She’s waiting for my daddy.

He realized what Rhett had said and he blinked once. He was unable to stop the words as he breathed, “You waited for me?”

“Not for you!” Rhett cried again. “For my daddy!”

But for once Nesta didn’t chastise her rambunctious son for screaming in the house. She was too busy looking at Cassian.

“It’s always been you,” she whispered, repeating his earlier words back to him.

Cassian longed to kiss her then, wanted to press his lips urgently against hers, but he didn’t. Instead, he looked down to Rhett. 

“He looks like me,” he whispered, then looked over at Nesta. “Sounds like me.”

“When he’s throwing a fit? Yeah, he does,” Nesta said, quietly, and the smallest of smiles appeared on her lips.

Rhett was still looking at Cassian when he scooted closer to Nesta and wrapped his little arms around her.

Nesta picked her son up, setting him down on the counter where she’d been sitting just a few seconds before. “Mommy’s always told you daddy would come home one day, right?”

He was looking between the two of them, suspiciously. He nodded.

“But that he was busy making sure we’d all have the best lives that we could?”

Another nod.

“Your daddy is finally here, buddy,” she said, softly. She ran a thumb over his cheek. “I didn’t know he was coming-.” A look at Cassian, who at least had the audacity to blush at intruding on her peaceful day and throwing the most amazing wrench into their lives. “But he’s here.”