#reading everyones lists baffled. was surprised by how many jeans i saw

[dayurno]

top 5 most attractive aftg characters to me.. an insane person.. interesting

1) kevin no explanation needed i could just wife him up real nice

2) seth.. he is exactly like almost every man i have been with ashamedly i like them mean and rude and kind of unbearable to be around also in my heart he has a buzzcut and that’s doing it for me

3) dan. she is so hot and i need her bad

4) aaron i think he is cute and sweet and a freak and also is on par with matt for wife lover number one. i like his loser charm and gf worshipping ways

5) wymack

just looking at this entirely speechless like. i understand wifing kevin up (as we all do) but to put seth in 2nd is such a bold move….. youre stronger than me… i love seth gordon deeply and sincerely but i Would not date him. i would not put myself through that trial. ALSO AARON? i respect you. I really do

[spaceskam]

Secret Admirer

ao3

Carlos walked into work and froze a few feet away from his desk.

“Those came for you,” Batiste said, gesturing to the bouquet of flowers that had apparently found their rightful place on his desk. Carlos blinked a few times and slowly walked closer, touching one of the soft yellow petals as he looked for a card. When he found it, he carefully plucked it and looked closer to see who would’ve sent him flowers. He wasn’t exactly someone to send flowers to.

Carlos,

I’ve spent too many days trying to decide how to talk to you. I chose romance.

-your someone

Carlos’ face felt unbearably hot as he looked around as if expecting to see his secret admirer peering through a window to catch his reaction. He didn’t see anything out of place except for the flowers themselves, so he sat down. He tried to think of everyone he’d met recently who seemed like they might want to send him flowers. He couldn’t think of anyone that stood out.

“Who are they from?” Batiste asked, leaning over. It felt weirdly childish to gossip about surprise flowers, but he suddenly wanted to. Only there was nothing to gossip about because he didn’t know who sent them.

“Anonymous,” he said, shaking his head as he placed the card in his top drawer, “Probably someone from a call.”

“Damn. They should’ve brought cookies then.”

“They shouldn’t have brought anything at all,” Carlos said, eyes still on the flowers. No one had gotten him flowers before. Was it stupid of him to be flattered even though it was from a stranger?

“It’s weird. The lonely housewives usually chose to lust over the firefighters,” Batiste said. Carlos rolled his eyes. “Maybe they just missed the obvious gay thing.”

“Do I have an obvious gay thing?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Batiste shrugged.

“I mean, probably,” he said. Carlos shook his head and reached out to touch one of the petals again.

He brought them home at the end of his shift and put him very carefully in his windowsill, reading over how to properly take care of them so they didn’t die right away. He made it all the way through dinner and a shower and into bed before he finally caved and googled if there was a way to replant them. 

Once he realized there was, sort of, he put it in his schedule to go buy pots and some potting mix.

-

The second bouquet came a week later, proof that it wasn’t a one off.

Carlos felt more than a little confused as he hesitantly reached for the card again. Part of him was extremely fond and another part was kind of scared it was someone being creepy. He didn’t think his heart could take it if the first person to buy him flowers ended up being creepy. Still, he gently touched the petals as he read the card.

Carlos,

Alright, I was too subtle. Hint: I’m new in town. Is that too obvious?

-your someone

Carlos sat back in his hair, face a little flushed all over again. His someone. Who spoke like that? Who would call themselves that? Who would go out of their way to send him flowers twice? He thought about people who he knew were new in town. For a moment his thoughts lingered over to the new firefighter…

No. That didn’t make sense. They’d really only seen each other a couple times where they were at the same call and then once at that bar. Sure, they’d danced, but they didn’t talk after that and he was sure TK wasn’t interested. If he was interested, he would’ve just said it to his face. He was confident like that.

So it had to be someone else.

The entire day, he spent his shift wondering who the hell would send him flowers twice. He eventually convinced himself that it simply had to be from a call. And, moreover, it was probably a woman or someone simply being kind. He shouldn’t worry about it or put much thought into it.

Still, as he arrived at a call where TK also happened to be, he found himself looking at him and wondering if it was him all over again. He flashed a cocky smile and gave him a once over, but he didn’t come up to talk. Carlos took that as more than enough proof that he certainly wasn’t the flower sender.

That night, he sat down with the new bouquet and clipped the salvageable parts the right way to be replanted. He knew it was probably stupid to keep them, but it felt nice to actually do something with a gift he couldn’t even thank someone for sending.

He tried to put it out of his head, it was probably someone he wasn’t interested in anyway. They were just being nice and he accepted their niceness, that was it. But, even when he stopped by a coffee shop the next morning, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He went through a list of everyone he’d come into contact with that had told him specifically that they were new in town. He came up short.

“Wait, I’ll pay for his,” a voice said as Carlos was handing the barista his card. He looked at the person who was holding out his card further and couldn’t help the smile that found his face when he saw TK.

Okay, so maybe TK wasn’t the sender. Didn’t mean he wasn’t interested.

“Thanks,” Carlos said after TK ordered his own coffee.

“No problem,” he said as they walked to the other side of the counter, “Saw my shot and then took it.”

Carlos held back a smile and nodded.

“Well, I’m glad you did.”

-

The next week, another bouquet ended up at his desk.

Carlos let out a slightly baffled sigh as he walked up to it. He’d been talking with TK, mostly just texting and the occasional coffee date. They both had been too slammed at work to feel up to having a real date, but they were planning on it. But here was another damn bouquet to make him confused.

He quickly plucked the card out of the middle.

Carlos,

I’m not sure if you’ve figured it out. You haven’t said anything. You’re so cute.

-your someone

He leaned back in his chair and sighed. So he had spoken to the sender. What the hell? How had he spoken to them and still hadn’t figured it out? He again went through his mental list of everyone he’d spoken to in the last week that would also seem the type to send him flowers. Again, he came up short.

He decided to put it out of his mind entirely.

Carlos went about his day, planted the bouquet when he got home, and went to bed and didn’t think about the fact he had a secret admirer. It didn’t even make sense. They were probably messing with him. It was probably someone at work who was pranking him. 

The next night, he had off and he finally, finally got to go out with TK on a real date. They went to a nice restaurant and flirted the whole time. TK flashed his irresistible smile, Carlos fell unfairly head over heels, they split the bill. He liked it. He liked him.

“Would it be too forward of me to ask if I can come inside?” TK asked as they sat outside his house, looking at him without any pressure. Carlos was flooded with adoration as he looked at him. The person who sent him flowers didn’t matter as long as TK looked at him like that and asked questions like that.

“Not forward at all.”

TK smiled and leaned across the center console, kissing him slow and nice and all too smooth for a first kiss. It was like he just knew how to kiss him the right way; he didn’t even need to learn. Carlos could barely stand to part with him long enough to unlock his front door.

The two of them stumbled inside, kissing and pressing up as close as possible. They fell against the wall with laughter and stripped each other with a level of instant comfort Carlos hadn’t felt in awhile. This was way too soon, but it was way too nice to stop it. He didn’t want to stop it.

They fell onto the couch and got lost in each other.

-

TK had to leave relatively early, his alarm going off at a clean 5AM. Carlos felt guilty for keeping him all night.

“I gotta go, my shift starts in an hour,” TK said, pulling on his jeans. He leaned down, though, and kissed him good morning and goodbye. “I’ll see you soon. Text me?”

“Yeah,” Carlos breathed, half asleep and dazed with happiness.

He got up and got dressed an hour later, feeling better than he had in awhile. TK texted him when his shift started to tell him to have a good day because he knew when his shift started. Carlos was so obsessed he didn’t even think about his flower sender.

Until a delivery person came in with a whole bouquet and headed straight for his desk.

Carlos’ eyes widened and he reluctantly accepted them. It was beginning to get out of control. Not because he wasn’t thankful, but because flowers weren’t cheap and he didn’t even know who was sending them. Why didn’t they just talk to him to his face?

Carlos,

Carlos, Carlos, Carlos, Carlos, Carlos. You’ve been on my mind all morning. Have you figured it out yet?

-your someone

And this really needed to stop.

“Excuse me,” Carlos said, quickly jogging to follow the delivery person. They looked only vaguely annoyed that he stopped them. “Is there any way I can find out who sent these or…?”

“I just deliver them,” they sighed. Carlos nodded and didn’t try to stop them when they left. 

He sighed and slinked back to his desk, frowning at the bouquet. It was hard to enjoy this one. He just wanted to know who it was. Why was it so hard? Was he just being blind to the whole thing?

Batiste teased him about it, but he didn’t find it funny. He just wanted to know who the hell it was so he could say ‘thank you, but I’m taken’. Granted, he wasn’t entirely sure that he was taken, but he felt taken and TK was… everything.

He went about his day on high alert, probably questioning too many of the interactions he had with people. Why was this so hard? He was a cop, he should be good at investigating. Apparently that didn’t apply to his own love life.

That night, he managed to convince TK to come over for a late night dinner and the suggestion to more than that. He complied happily and showed up on time, kissing him before he could get the door open all the way. Carlos smiled into it. He liked this. He never wanted to stop.

“Okay, okay, dinner?” Carlos said, reluctantly swatting his hands away. TK laughed and gave him one last kiss before agreeing.

They made their way into the kitchen and TK lingered near the entrance.

“Is something wrong?” Carlos asked. But the look on his face wasn’t anything bad. He just looked unbelievably fond, his cheeks tinted red and a warm smile on his face.

“You planted them?” TK asked, crossing over to the window above his sink that was now very much overpopulated with little plants.

Carlos’ brain short-circuited and he froze for a solid three minutes.

“Wait,” he said, “You sent them?”

TK looked at him for a moment and then laughed a little, "Yeah. Did you still not figure it out?" 

"I completely ruled you out!"

TK laughed a little harder, "Dude, who else would it be?"

"I don't know! I couldn't figure it out, it was driving me crazy," Carlos said, but he was smiling. This he could work with. "I can't believe it was you."

"I can't believe you didn't know," TK said, stepping near him, "I thought you were just playing along."

"No, clearly I just should never become an investigator," Carlos said. TK laughed and grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling him in for a kiss. 

"I can't believe you planted them," he said against his lips, "That's so cute. You're so cute."

"Is cute the best word to describe me?"

"It's what I'm going with," TK said, giving him a few more kisses.

"Let's eat."

That night, they cut and planted the new ones together.  

[downthecuriosityshop-blog]

Making a Case for Go Set A Watchman in the Trump Era

In 2015, the impossible happened: Harper Lee, the definition of a reclusive artist, of someone who crafted something so perfect they knew it couldn’t be topped, released a new novel. When Go Set a Watchman, the sequel to To Kill a Mockingbird, was announced, the immediate response was intense excitement. To Kill a Mockingbird is deservedly one of the most read and studied books in the world. In fact, it’s become a bit of a cliché to say it’s your favourite book, as people will assume you only read it because it was assigned to you, and that you’ve read nothing since. But unlike its time-honoured cousin Catcher in the Rye, a book which has taken a stark dive in reputation since publication, To Kill a Mockingbird remains beloved by readers and critics alike.

As the new book shot to the top of the Amazon pre-orders list, dubious stories about its origins came to light. It turned out that the book was not a sequel to To Kill a Mockingbird, but a scrapped early draft of it starring an adult Jean Louise. Furthermore, allegations arose that Harper Lee, now in her late eighties, had been manipulated into releasing the manuscript without having the lucidity to fully understand her actions. Those rumours were later dismissed, but many retained their suspicions.

The book was finally released in a blaze of glory, but the mediocre reviews soon smothered that out. Readers were revolted that Atticus Finch, a character that generations of schoolgoers saw as the definition of moral integrity in our formative years, was spouting racist rhetoric and submitting to the bigoted blowhards he had once dismissed as “trash”. Looking at the Goodreads reviews, many readers took this complete 180 in personality as a personal affront. It was like someone arming a fluffy kitten with a pipe bomb. Go Set a Watchman quickly faded from public consciousness, regarded as nothing more than a bare-bones template for the masterpiece that was to follow. Lee passed away not long after.

The bad press turned me off reading the book at the time. I was one of those people who saw it as a shady cash-grab on the part of Lee’s publishers. I am one of the millions who had taken the gentlemanly Southern lawyer into my heart. But recently, I saw the book pop up on my local library’s app, and decided to give it a whirl. And I was surprised by how much I liked it.

I can see why the concept of “Atticus Finch: Racist” went down like a lead balloon in 2015. It seemed ludicrous back then that someone like Atticus, who throughout his career had emphasised equality and benevolence, would believe black people are backwards and stupid, and host town meetings led by Klansmen.

Sickening, no? And then 2016 happened.

Donald Trump was voted in by people we saw as virtuous agents. People’s mothers, fathers, grandparents, people who witnesses the Holocaust, people who had witnessed massive upheavals in civil rights, people who had voted for Obama, decided to side with an unapologetic egoist, liar and misogynist. This was made even worse by the fact that, like Atticus, many Trump supporters kept their support quiet. In particular, the report that 53% of white women voted for Trump after he gleefully boasted about assaulting women felt like a baffling betrayal.

In this context, the aftermath of Jean Louise discovering upstanding citizens like her father and her sweetheart Henry are fraternising with racists seems familiar. That is to say, she goes into complete meltdown:

People of colour, too, had lost faith in White America. All of our self-congratulation about progress  and equality rang hollow when America’s Favourite Birther took office. So the catatonic state of Calpurnia the maid, who has retired from servitude to the Finches, is striking. Like many minorities, she has long given up hope that white people will ever truly treat her as an equal. Her passivity is far more chilling than shouting or screaming would be:

The book’s plot also addresses the fact that Atticus’ support for Tom seems at odds with his supposed racist leanings. But certain quotes from the first book imply Atticus isn’t exactly the social justice warrior we all remember. Sure, he  he defended a black man when no-one else would dare to, but here he doesn’t sound like he’s going to argue all the racists into submission:

Jean Louise accuses him of being in love with the concept of everyone deserving a fair trial, rather than him seeing black people as equal. Perhaps parallels can be seen in how many conservatives expressed outrage at Trump’s implausible plans for walls and immigration bans, then rolled over and played dumb when offered a place amongst Trump’s cabinet. Suddenly, justice and accountability were the enemy; like Atticus, they concluded, “If you can’t beat them, join them.”

I’ll be talking about the book’s ending in the next section, so be warned.

Actually, there isn’t much to spoil. Jean Louise’s story ends by her riding off into the sunset with her daddy, accepting that people are complicated and forgiving him somewhat. Now, under a modern eye, this ending could be contentious. Does Jean Louise have a duty to cut out any malignant influences from her life? Is she just as bad as Atticus for standing by and overlooking her loved ones’ prejudice?

In fairness, Jean Louise is on her way out of town, having called things off with Henry. But can she really just sever her relationship with her sickly father, especially seeing as her brother is long dead? We’ll never know if she ever returns to Maycomb, or keeps in contact with Atticus or Henry. Perhaps, perhaps not. And if she does, can we blame her?

If you’ve read the book before and hated it, perhaps a re-read might not go astray. To Kill a Mockingbird is fantastic, but I’d venture that its encapsulation of race relations is a bit too simplistic from a modern viewpoint. Go Set a Watchman asks the meatier questions, and acknowledges that no-one, even Atticus Finch, can be held up as a bastion of morality. This section alone is worth it: