#because I decided to commit to that song apparently and it's been playing non-stop for the last week

[veterveter]

spike the punch

As promised some weeks ago, here’s the sequel to ruining this banquet. I hope you’ll like it--

“I’m looking for the best one,” Andrés replied, without looking up from his work. “Okay, what about this?” He lifted a picture and held it in the air, entirely too close to Martín’s face. He could smell the printer ink.

“Looks green,” Martín huffed, pulling back. By that point, he was no longer entertaining Andrés by actually attempting to analyse them, because they really did look all the same, and because Andrés was clearly going to keep doing this no matter how he reacted to it. “Just like the thirteen others you’ve shown me today.” It had probably been more than thirteen, actually. He should have rounded up. “It may well be the same one, now that I think of it. Is this purgatory?”

In which Andrés researches vineyards instead of helping Martín plan a proposal dinner for his girlfriend - like friends do.

You may expect:

at least 70% more vineyards

at least 150% more Martín pining

[drawlfoy]

The Wonders of Ohio P.6

masterlist (catch up on parts 1-5 here!!)

request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: my original idea :))

summary: y/n’s senior year was going to be great, but her British exchange student is a little weird. this is NOT a non-magic AU. draco’s still a wizard in this fsjifkszfjkd

warnings: language, fainting, bad driving, mentions of drinking and drug use

a/n: eeee this is such a fun bit to write. thank you all so much for being there for me. this is definitely one of my favorite fics i’ve written since it gives me so much creative liberty and the fact that i get feedback and readers for it...just warms my heart. if you’re reading this: thank you so, so much for sticking around. i might come around with more oneshots soon. anyways i hope you enjoy the initial descent into the real real plot. also fluff will be coming soon i promise but i wasn’t lying when i said this was slowburn

tags tags tags @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @icintliviinyiniilsiji @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural

word count: 3.4k

song recs:

a pearl -- mitski

movement -- hozier

revival -- deerhunter

Draco was crying.

Or, at least, someone was. The gasps coming from just a wall away were apparent, but Y/N could hear a voice that didn’t quite sound like Draco--which had to be a trick of the mind, because there could be no one in there but him.

She rapped on the door against her better judgement to be met with a flurry of movement--fabric rustling,  and a soft pop that echoed through the air.

“Draco? Are you alright in there?”

Y/N found herself wishing that he wouldn’t open the door. After the Homecoming ask, the last thing she wanted was to see his stupid pretty face again, but she was a good host sister. Emphasis on sister.

To her shock, the door swung open. Just a few inches, just enough for her to see the pile of black shredded paper in the middle of his room and a drained looking Draco glaring back at her.

“Can I help you?” His once pristine white shirt was gray in some places, like he had rubbed ashes on it. 

“I just thought--did you burn something?”

“No. What is it?”

She looked at him a bit closer. His eyes didn’t look red rimmed with the dead giveaway of a crying session, but they looked close. The furrow in his brow was from worry instead of his usual sternness and he kept nervously pulling down at his left sleeve. 

Draco wasn’t crying, but he was about to.

“I…” There was something deeply unsettling about seeing Draco so uncollected and fidgety--almost like seeing a fish out of water or an American conservative with an adequate understanding of class struggles.The air was charged with something yet again, so much so that Y/N could feel the hair on her arms stand up. She decided to avoid damaging his masculinity any further. “Nothing. It just smelled a little like smoke. I wanted to make sure you weren’t burning a candle or anything. You know how my mom is about that.”

He continued to stare at her.

“Would you like me to leave you alone?”

“Please.” 

Well, that was embarrassing thought Y/N as she made her way back down the hall and to her backpack. I get rejected twice in one day. Smooth.

The days following were profoundly more uncomfortable. Breakfasts became uncomfortably akin to the Silent Game and Draco stopped coming out for tea in the evenings. The drives to and from school were decorated only by occasional bits of small talks or grumbles of exams. In short, Y/N knew that she had overstepped a boundary and Draco was pulling back.

School had finally become crazy. Y/N’s life became so entrenched with letters of recommendation and 200 word supplements that the Draco shaped hole in her life was bearable. After all, she was fine before he came, and she was fine now. She’d been silly, allowing herself to fantasize about a kid with some serious trauma and family issues that clearly had personal things that handle before he thought about getting all cozy with someone who was not in the slightest compatible with him. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

oOo

If someone turned a glass of whole milk into a human, that person would be Chad. He was the poster child of an “American” boy--tall, warm blonde hair, slightly tanned skin, and cornflower blue eyes. 

But his personality? Not so much. 

“My beloved husband!” Y/N called out as she saw him speaking to her mother in the foyer while Draco glowered in the corner. She bounded down the stairs in record time, leaping into his arms as her strappy heels swung from her hands. He smelled of cotton and laundry detergent. 

“Hey nerd,” he said, swinging her around in a circle before setting her down. “Did you finish the Econ homework? I was hoping I could take a picture before I leave…”

Y/N drew back to smack him on the shoulder. “You disgust me.”

“You abuse me.”

“And I’ll do it again,” said Y/N. She had forgotten how funny he was. 

“Oh, you two,” Mrs. Y/L/N cut in, stepping between the two and pressing the boutonni��re into Y/N’s hands. “Always bickering like a married couple.”

Lizzy snorted from the top of the stairs where she was struggling to stuff a light jacket into her purse. “Hot take.”

“Hold still,” commanded Y/N, holding the pin and attempting to attach it to his lapel. “I’m literally going to accidentally stab you. Cut it out.”

He made a face down at her. “Do it. You won’t.”

“Oh? I won’t?”

“Y/N,” Mrs. Y/L/N’s exasperated voice warned.

“I’ll refrain, but only because the rug we’re standing on was my Grandmother’s,” Y/N said to him, her voice dripping with sweetness. “Consider yourself lucky that you’re not on the tile.”

“I’ve never been more thankful that my late grandmother-in-law had such impeccable taste.” 

“Suck up.”

“Oh, because you’re such a rebel.”

“It’s called motivation!”

“Honey, I want a divor-”

“For Christ’s sake, stop flirting or I’m going to puke,” a cool voice cut in. The group turned to see Sylvia standing in the doorway, clad in a flowing black dress that just barely ghosted over the top of the floor. 

“You look radiant, darling,” Mrs. Y/L/N said.

“And we weren’t flirting,” said Y/N.

Sylvia sent her a little wink before walking to sit down on the couch across from Draco, who was currently perched cross legged and looking profoundly uncomfortable. 

Sylvia, Lizzy, and their dates all opted to take Lizzy’s car to the city while Chad, Y/N, and Draco took Chad’s. The plan was to drop Draco off at the school with ample time to prepare him for the uniquely traumatic experience that was ASB sanctioned after school events, and to the plan they stuck.

“Yeah, go ahead and treat me like your chauffeur, “ scoffed Chad as Y/N slid into the backseat next to Draco. The sports car was surprisingly narrow with hardly any space between them. If she wanted to, she could easily rest her thigh against his.

“It’s called being polite, dear,” said Y/N, flicking the back of his head before turning to face Draco. “You’re really gonna commit to this? Major props, but, like...you really don’t have to go to this if you don’t want to. You can even stay home. I know how to sneak you back in.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “I’m here for the American experience, right?”

“Hate to break it to you, but there is no uniform American experience. It’s all personalized, and I don’t know if you want yours to be seasoned with 14 year olds T-posing in a circle to...I don’t even know. Chad, what kind of music do they play at those places?”

“Fuck if I know. I don’t go to them either.”

“It’s fine. I told Heather I’d be there.”

“Ooookay, whatever you say,” Y/N said. 

They rode in silence for a few more beats. The wind outside was uncharacteristically strong for an early October day, and it looked like a storm was brewing. In their rush to get to the dance on time, they had neglected to take precaution against the wind and ran outside to Chad’s car without a second thought. Draco’s suit, while posh and put together, had clearly bore the brunt of this choice. His tie had become slightly rumpled and his hair mussed, a look that was all types of wrong on him.

“Draco?” she asked. He snapped to attention. “Your tie is all undone. Can I…?” Y/N motioned to his neck.

Wide-eyed and frozen, he met her with, “er...sure.” 

Y/N leaned forward, trying to think past how her thighs were just barely touching his. Her corsage (a tasteful red, thank you very much) bumped against his chest, flattening a bit. She wasn’t very familiar with ties--she’d never had to be in her past experiences--but whatever his was made of, it was expensive. The fabric felt silky and impossibly smooth in her hand as she carefully untied it.

Chad took a sharp turn into the school drop off lot, prompting Y/N to nearly topple into Draco’s chest. His arms shot out to steady her and retracted so quickly that she was left wondering if she imagined the whole ordeal. 

“So it’s true,” said Chad from the front. “Nerds do have bad upper body strength.”

“Shut up,” she responded. Her cheeks felt unbearably hot as she tried her best to focus on tightening Draco’s tie and ignore the fact that she was close enough to smell his cologne--a soft pine, she observed--and feel the shadow of his breath on her face. His hands were clasped together lap, tight enough to turn the knuckles white. 

It was an odd feeling, getting butterflies in her stomach while she was touching a boy that wasn’t her date as Chad careened towards a parking spot and pulled in so violently that Y/N almost went sprawling into Draco again. She looked up at him, getting ready to crack a joke about the absurdity of the situation or the questionable driving; instead, she found herself staring up into his eyes. 

His normally pale eyes looked darker than usual--his pupils were insanely dilated--but that was because it was dark in the car. Obviously. Out of the corner of her eye, Y/N could see his chest rising and falling with an urgency that she hadn’t noticed before.

“Do you want me to uh..fix your...your hair, too?” Y/N said, mentally cringing at how she stumbled over the sentence. To be fair, his hair was ruffled and out of place. It wasn’t like she was making an excuse to touch it or anything.

To that, Draco jerked away from her, his back brushing up against the opposite car door. “No. No, it’s ok. I’ll fix it myself.”

Y/N was sure that her face was tomato red.

“Alright buckaroo,” Chad said from the front, his nonchalant demeanor never more appreciated. “Your hot date is here. Get out of my car. We have a busy day of antiquing ahead.”

Any semblance of casualness left Draco’s body as his eyes widened. “Antiquing?”

“Yeah, remember the place I took you to right after you came here?” asked Y/N.

��Er...don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Excuse me?” She sat up straight so quickly that she felt her hair come slightly undone at the nape of her neck. “That’s rich, coming from the kid going to a school dance as a senior.” 

“It’s probably not going to even be open. It’ll be late by the time dinner’s over,” he said. 

“Since when do you care? Honestly, quit acting weird,” Y/N responded, scootching away from him as he made no effort to get out of the car. 

“I’m not--it’s--erm, nevermind, forget about it.” He cleared his throat, straightened his tie, and brushed off his lapels. “Heather must be waiting for me. Goodbye.”

After a little struggle, Draco managed to best the slightly confusing door handle of Chad’s car and was out the door. Y/N slid across the seat and out with him, shutting the door and grabbing the handle for the passenger side. 

“Y/N?” Draco’s voice called before she had the chance to fully get in and tell Chad to book it. 

“What’s up?”

He took a few steps forward, pausing just a couple feet away from her. His eyes were cast to the rain puddle ridden cement. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid, okay?”

“I should be telling you that, king,” Y/N quipped. “Your first real American dance. If you go to any after parties, make sure to watch your drink. Don’t take any substances from strangers--or, anyone, really--”

“Y/N, he’s not a chick.” Chad, his hands still perched on the steering wheel, turned to peer out at her. “He’ll be fine. I think they have beer in Britain.”

“Well, whatever. Have Heather text me if I need to pick you up anywhere. And don’t get in any cars with someone who’s been drinking!”

“Y/N!”

“Ok, ok, I’m coming.” She slid into the car, turning one last time to say bye. Draco was already gone. “Only if I drive.”

oOo

“So Heather and Draco, huh?” 

Y/N scowled at Lizzy as she speared a piece of her salad particularly viciously. “I don’t know if it’s like that. I think he’s just being polite, or whatever. I think British people are just like that.”

“Why are we even talking about that boy?” Chad asked. “He’s got that whole Timothée Chalamet dying Victorian toddler aesthetic if Timothée was blonde and had a perpetual stick up his ass.”

“In a hot way, though,” said Lizzy, her eyebrows wiggling. Jonathan scowled at her side. “Oh, don’t be so jealous. As if I’d ever go for a kid who doesn’t even know what Snapchat is.”

“I don’t understand what Heather sees in him,” Chad continued, his fettuccine plate long forgotten. “He’s got the personality of a wet rag, and she’s so bubbly and...I don’t even know. Do you guys get what I mean?”

“Draco’s got personality,” said Y/N. 

“Not like Heather.”

“It’s not his fault he’s reserved. He’s actually really funny.”

“And that’s what I like to call rose-tinted glasses,” Chad said, gently poking her cheek. 

“Hey! I’m the one who lives with him.”

“Whatever. Let’s just call for the bill. I’m not hungry anymore.” Chad folded up his napkin, placing it on top of the tablecloth and ignoring Y/N’s protest as he got out his wallet and placed a credit card on the table. “It’s on me, guys. You know how my parents are. They’re just happy that we’re all getting together again instead of holing up in our rooms.”

“Thank god junior year is over,” Sylvia added. “That’s really kind of you. At least let me get the tip?”

As the group bickered over the payment options and flagged down the waiter, Y/N noticed her phone lighting up with a notification.

Heather, 6.48pm: Hey girly! Sorry to bug you on your night but Draco wanted to check in and ask where you guys are/what you’re planning on doing tonight.

“Who’s that?” Chad asked, looking down at the little paragraph in the gray message bubble.

“Just Heather. Draco wants to know what we’re doing. Probably because he’s realizing how sucky dances really are and is about to beg us to come pick him up.”

He snorted. “Yeah. Poor kid.”

Y/N typed out a quick “we just finished dinner and are heading to the antique place now. lmk if i need to pick him up earlier” and tucked her phone away in her purse. As much as she resented it, she couldn’t help but wish that Draco wanted to join them instead.

“Are you guys ready to beat it and hit up that antique place?” Marvin, Sylvia’s date, asked. She rolled her eyes and sent him a lazy smile.

“You sound like a dad.” 

“Off like a herd of turtles, baby,” Y/N offered, gathering her things as they made their way out the restaurant door. “Not gonna lie, this place doesn’t show up on Google Maps or anything. I think I know how to get there but none of you guys are allowed to make fun of me if I take too many wrong turns.”

“No promises,” said Chad, winking down at her and giving her shoulder a little squeeze. 

 As they walked, it became profoundly obvious that Chad and Y/N were the only two who weren’t officially an item. Lizzy and Jonathon were walking hand in hand while Sylvia and Marvin whispered in each others’ ears when they had to wait for crosswalk signals. While she had great chemistry with Chad, nothing ever felt real with him. It always felt like an act.

Perhaps the tension between them was because of that one time they kissed and never talked about it again in freshman year after a particularly nerve wracking competitive math round before she quit--something that she wasn’t exactly going to shout off the rooftops for the masses to hear. Or maybe because he pushed her away right after and said it was a mistake. 

Whatever it was, Y/N and Chad were decidedly not romantically involved. She had been shocked when he’d even bothered asking her for the night. Granted, they were always pals and it shouldn’t have been awkward, but drawing the comparisons between her and the other girls was making the evening very uncomfy. Y/N couldn’t help but pray that Chad was going to be the one to break the ice.

“Where the fuck is this place?” he finally said, much to Y/N’s glee. His grace and manners were absolutely unparalleled. “It’s cold and I’m sure it’s going to start raining again.”

“It should be just a few more blocks and then to the right,” she responded. “Sorry. It’s cool as fuck, though. I promise it’s worth it.”

“This is just her ploy to lure us all away from civilization to off us,” Sylvia said, turning around from a few feet in front of them to raise her eyebrows at Y/N. “Eliminate the competition before college apps even begin. I’m impressed, honestly.”

“Now you’ve gone and ruined it all,” she fired back. “Thanks, Vy.”

She was relieved to see that the antique store couldn’t be missed, even if she tried. The sign, a worn and friendly gold, was illuminated by large lights. The words “My Grandfather’s Attic” had never looked more welcoming as Sylvia gripped the door and ushered them inside.

The moment Y/N stepped inside, something felt...different, kind of like the hair-raising feeling she got when she was around Draco. The electricity in the air she felt with him could easily be explained away by the fact that he was, for lack of a better term, the most stunning person she’d ever seen, but perhaps she was slowly getting over him. Perhaps…

She turned to see Chad, his honey blonde hair spilling over his forehead as he focused on a basket of vintage buttons that seemed to glimmer in the light. The furrow in his brow--the same one that she’d been so familiar with after seeing him solve countless math problems--appeared as he examined the basket, turning a red button around in his fingers, soft and and sprinkled with writing calluses. 

Maybe it had been Chad all along. Maybe Draco was just a detour. 

Before she did anything she regretted, Y/N turned and made her way back into the store. The set up was the same as she remembered--interesting and foreign objects hanging from the walls, ceilings, and congregating in baskets and overflowing shelves. She didn’t even realize that she had migrated over to the opposite side of the room until she felt the solid, cool wood of the black box from her dreams pressed into her hand as she turned it over and traced the strange white sign that was etched into the front. 

“Y/N!” 

The sound snapped her out of her trance to see...Heather and Draco? He was jogging towards her despite the fact that he was wearing a full suit. Y/N made an absent note to make fun of him later. 

“Why are you--”

“Put that down!” He stopped a few paces away, his eyes darting around the store at a frantic pace. “We need to leave.”

“Why? Honestly, if you wanted me to pick you up, all you had to do was…” She had to take a breath to steady herself. Her body felt like it was filled with static. “All you had to do was ask.”

“That’s not...ok, just put it down,” he commanded. “Please. Just put the box down. We need to go home.”

“No! This is my last homecoming. I’m sorry your experience wasn’t great, but I don’t...I don’t, uh, appreciate…” The lightheadedness hit, so suddenly that she almost fell. 

“Fuck, are you okay?” Draco was right in front of her in an instant, his eyes scanning her face.

“I feel...” She took a shaky breath. “I feel...starry?”

The last thing she remembered was Draco trying to tug the box out of her grip, his other hand warm on her shoulder.

And then everything went black.

final a/n: so draco got a howler and some wack stuff happened, huh? tell me what you think. 

[tropicaldruid]

The Survivor’s Guide to Leaving Your Birth Religion Part 4: Tear It Down

It’s 1998 and I’m on a road trip to North Carolina with my youth group. Like a Bridge Over Troubled Water plays, and my youth pastor lowers the volume, “Have y’all ever heard the story behind this song?” he asks. None of us have.

“The man who wrote this was a drawbridge operator. He had brought his grandkids to work with him one day and despite several warnings, his granddaughter was climbing on the bridge. The man had told his grandkids how dangerous it was but the girl wasn’t heeding him and was playing in the works of the drawbridge. There was a boat full of people coming and the man had to make a choice between his granddaughter, and the lives of all those people on the boat. Rather than risk the lives of all those people he made the ultimate sacrifice…” his voice trailed off for a moment “Years later he wrote this song.”

That story stuck with me. It’s a bizarre and sad story that doesn’t really seem to have a moral that actually holds up to any kind of scrutiny. Of course, it doesn’t help that the story was also bullshit. Paul Simon wrote the lyrics to that song after committing zero bridge-related murders. 

Yet somewhere along the way somebody made that story up. I think it’s inspired by the tragic story behind It Is Well With My Soul. Like Virgil borrowed heavily from Homer, someone decided that Like a Bridge needed a more palatable foundational myth and made one up for it. And apparently thousands of people know this sad backstory that never happened as if it were truth, and bellieve that it serves as a cautionary tale about listening to your elders. 

Stories are so fascinating in the way they can convey some values and undermine others merely by being convincing, whether true or not. For years I believed Charles Darwin renounced “evolutionism” and accepted Christ just before he died. What a damaging idea, a simple one, but one that set my actual academic progress back by years.

It’s time to put the previous months of research to work. 

It’s time to tear down some of the untrue things we’ve been led to believe over the years. 

It’s time to face that we might be idiots a little bit. 

Leaving my religious bubble, I was shocked at how little I knew about the real world and how it worked. How unacceptable my internalized and externalized bigotry actually was, just how bigoted I actually was. 

For someone indoctrinated to believe I was a shining example of God’s love to the ungodly world, this came as quite a surprise to me. 

I needed to identify and challenge a lot of problematic ideas I had, I needed to look at the stories I had learned these ideas and values from and test those stories against other narratives. 

If I had ever stopped to challenge the narrative that Charles Darwin rejected “evolutionism” in favor of creationism I would have learned how absurd the dichotomy was in the first place. 

So the homework for this section is to start identifying these problematic ideas. Make a list of things that maybe you’ve been challenged on in the past. Have you been called a bigot before? A racist? Write that down. Think honestly about that moment and write down what action or words on your part caused it. Google words, read articles with an open mind. Join some discourse and emotional labor groups on social media and ask polite questions. Enter these spaces with humility, you’re in someone else’s sanctuary; and although we are survivors of trauma, we aren’t the only ones traumatized by these institutions and depending on our involvement, we may be culpable in the trauma of others. Be ready to listen and learn rather than defend or explain. 

Maybe that’s not something you can relate to, but you’ve always had a problem with some teaching. Often questioning the highly questionable is met with accusations of non-belief and scorn. “Those bone shaped rocks were put there by The Debbil and if you fall for his tricks then you’re a heathen too!” These ideas would be a great place to start. If you’ve got some questions like this, again google is a great place to plug in a few key words and get a ton of information. Look for academic papers, peer reviewed articles, books by reputable publishers.

Check out this article https://www.mindtools.com/pages/article/fake-news.htm and learn about vetting the information you consume online and in the real world. 

Sit down and compile a list, maybe make three columns. In the first write what someone else told you was problematic, or what idea you’ve had a problem accepting. In the second, write what specific issue was addressed in your words or actions (homophobia, racism, misogyny, anti-semetism, etc) or what specific detail of teaching you take issue with (Eve’s curse makes no sense because all mammals experience pain during childbirth?) Now in the third column write the specific steps you will take to find better information on the topic. 

Be Honest. 

Be Tireless.

This is probably the hardest part of this guide to address because it requires us to be very critical of ourselves, of truths upon which we have founded our identities . We are presented here the opportunity to grow beyond obsolete ideas, or cling to familiar ignorance. 

Admitting we’ve been wrong is hard, and it’s counterintuitive when one has been surrounded by the pretense of absolute, infallible certainty for their whole lives. But facing this stage of our growth with resolve and honesty is so important. Many of these stories we have told ourselves have led to so much harm done to so many innocent people. So we begin this active stage of our growth by minimizing the harm we do to others moving forward. 

When I was in basic training the drill sergeants loved the phrase “Pain is weakness leaving the body” and as much as it grates my nerves to this day, it’s a mantra that has helped in this sort of endeavor. This is a rough time to get through, but we are becoming stronger people for it. By letting go of the familiar, by challenging the things that don’t add up, we are becoming more grounded in what we believe, our beliefs are starting to line up with our true values instead of blindly and unsteadily following the path someone else laid out for us. Be patient with yourself, but be honest in your motives and intentions as you work through addressing these ideas. As you do you may need to make a second list, of people you have harmed because you have believed things that are not. While writing this list, acknowledge the harm to each person in detail. Go as far back as necessary, be as thorough as you can. Decide in each case how to address it, is an apology warranted or would the situation be better healed by a change in behavior moving forward? Commit to it.  If you’ve been following along at home, you’ve got your work cut out for you. As you list the ideas and stories you need to challenge, repost this and share some of them if you feel like it. Let’s shine some light on this misinformation. I have a few I wanted to include in this post but it’s already long enough so I’ll share them later. 

Blessins Y’all

[peterstanslizzie]

Re-watching Lizzie Mcguire: Episode 1.25 (Facts of Life)

We should give this trio a group name. I mean, Andi Mack has the ‘Good Hair Crew’, which comprises of Andi, Buffy and Cyrus. So, it’s only fitting that we give this group a name. Any ideas?

- Gordo has too many eggs in one basket; On top of having to finish three book reports and a science project, he decided to burden himself even more by joining glee club. This is so he can diversity his school resume with non-academic activities. 

- Side note: It’s cool that the writers acknowledged that Miranda had joined glee club back in episode 1.14 since it was kinda randomly thrown into that episode. 

- Mr. Escobar clearly isn’t impressed with his students’ singing chops and urges them to practice at home. After their glee club session, Lizzie suggests to her friends they should try out for the ‘Fact-athlon’. They don’t think it’s a great idea since Gordo is already under a lot of stress.

Getting a reward is always good motivation

- But when Lizzie brings up the fact that the winners will get a free trip to Miami, the tone suddenly shifts from nay to yay. Plus. this would be a nice addition to Gordo’s already packed resume. 

Bring it on ‘Fact-athlon’!

Preparation

- Lizzie and Miranda are busy studying and quizzing each other History facts in Lizzie’s living room. Gordo arrives and is supposed to bring donuts for his friends but he ate them on the way. That’s literally me lol. 

- Gordo mentions to them that they need to get a faculty advisor for their team. Lizzie suggests a teacher who has a huge head but apparently, Kate has already snatched him; So I guess Kate’s also competiting in the ‘Fact-athlon’. Luckily, Gordo says they have Mrs. Trimmer as their back-up. 

“What does a cannibal call a phonebook? A menu”. I don’t think jokes are Lizzie’s thing lmao.

- The next day in school, Gordo draws up a study plan that recommends 4 hours of studying each day in preparation for the upcoming competition. I have a lot of respect for those who are willing to put themselves through these kind of things, even if it’s all for a prize. 

- We come to find out that Mrs. Trimmer has left the country (for no stated reason...) and Mr. Dig will be replacing her as their advisor for the ‘Fact-athlon’. I think Mr. Dig is great and all but good luck to them lol. I will still give him the benefit of the doubt though. 

Team Lizzie vs Team Kate

- We come to find out later that ‘Team Kate’ comprises of her, Claire and Larry; Smart strategy to rope in Larry. Team Lizzie is about to start their study session with Mr. Dig and they brought in with them every math book they can get their hands on from the school library. 

- But with Mr. Dig, you can’t expect to have a conventional study session with him; The only study tool he’ll be using to teach math is a deck of cards. This doesn’t sit well with Gordo because he feels that they should be studying from books and not from playing blackjack. Gordo and I share the same sentiment on this. 

- But after getting teased by Miranda for being an “old man at 13″, Gordo decides to go along with Mr. Dig’s creative way of teaching Math, Science, English and History. And we then get to see a montage of him doing just that. 

No shade but Team Lizzie is just clowning around whilst Team Kate is actually doing the proper preparation for the ‘Fact-athlon’. Don’t get me wrong, Mr. Dig’s method of teaching by showing is definitely effective but when it comes to a trivia competition, cramming facts into your brain as much as you can in a short period of time is the best strategy. 

Day of the Fact-athlon

Team Kate is getting down to business but as you can see, 2 of the 3 members are a nervous-wreck

VS

Team Lizzie seems confident but maybe a little too confident

- The competition then kicks off with English History and Team Kate is owning Team Lizzie from the get-go. As expected, Team Lizzie doesn’t know all the black and white facts like the dates and names when it comes to historic events. 

- As Team Lizzie continues to get creamed in the ‘Fact-athlon’, Lizzie comes up with a plan to get out of the competition without forfeiting by telling Gordo to fake being sick and asking Miranda to trigger the water sprinklers. They follow the plan accordingly and manage to get themselves out of the embarrassing situation they were in. If I were them, I would be worried about getting punished for doing all of that lol.

I love how Gordo committed to his fake heart-attack though 

- After the whole fainting and water-sprinklers fiasco, Team Lizzie are sitting on the stairwell suffering from their epic defeat. Team Kate rubs in their faces that they’ve lost so badly that Mr. Dig is quitting as a teacher. Yikes! Now things are getting serious.

- The find Mr. Dig packing his things from the classroom and they plead with him not to quit. They tell him that they’ve learned a lot from him and he has shown them that learning can be fun and how seemingly boring subjects like World History can be interesting. Now that’s the ultimate goal of a teacher; To inspire his/her students.

- Also, it turns out that going to Miami wasn’t the best prize for Team Kate:

Kate got bit by sand fleas, Claire stepped on a sea urchin and Larry got extreme sunburn. Wow, they were really unlucky over there.

B-Plot: Matt and Lanny are Starting A Band

- In the kitchen, Matt asks his parents if they have any musical instruments lying around the house that they can borrow. Sam suggests his old guitar he had used when he was in his own band with his cousin and his friend called “Midnight Sam and the Love Patrol”. Matt, Lanny and even Jo don’t seem impressed with this and they even laughed at the idea that he was in a band. 

The song they were playing in this video was actually pretty good. I wonder if it’s an actual song in real life?

- Before I continue, I have always wondered why isn’t Matt in school for majority of these episodes whilst Lizzie is? I know this is a fictional show but it’s a funny pattern I’ve been noticing for quite some time now. 

- Anyways, they are holding auditions to find a third band member in the backyard and Matt’s parents seem to be okay with the idea; They are such chill parents, I can’t. After viewing a bunch of ‘meh’ performances (well I thought that the oboe player was pretty good), they finally get a good audition...from a grown man by the name of Rick Marotta.

This is an adult who wants to be in a band with a couple of kids....I have questions

- I looked up Rick Marotta and he’s legit a big-time drummer in real life! His credits include playing with Linda Ronstadt, James Taylor, Steely Dan, John Lennon (as mentioned in the show) plus Carly Simon, Stevie Nicks and Randy Newman. Woah, impressive! But anyways, he is the best one so far and he gets the gig! Later, they start playing together for the first time and let’s just say, they don’t sound too good.

- It then escalates to the point where Sam and Jo can’t even stand the sound of them playing anymore. It’s cute how they don’t want to disappoint Matt by telling what he can or can’t do but if I were them, I would definitely put my foot down and ask them to stop the ruckus. Like please.

- We fast forward two days later on Sunday and Matt’s band is holding their first ever live performance and I must say; They look stylin’:

And they gave an incredible performance. Bravo! Of course it’s unrealistic for them to get so good after a short period of time but hey, I can definitely let this slide. 

- In the end, however, Matt and Lanny want to move on to another hobby instead of continuing on with their band *facepalms

Overall Thoughts

- I really enjoyed re-watching this episode. They did a great job making an episode that centers around a ‘Fact-athlon’ quite entertaining. Plus, the writing and the dialog used in this episode was really witty. Kudos to Douglas Tuber & Tim Maile for writing this episode. 

- I also like how they showcased the contrast between traditional ways of studying versus interactive/non-conventional ways of studying. Obviously, the former is more effective when it comes to trivia contests/quizzes but the latter makes students enjoy and really soak up what they’re learning. I also have to give props to Arvie Lowe Jr. for doing a great job as Mr. Dig in this particular episode. I loved seeing the bond between him and Lizzie, Gordo and Miranda. Teachers like him are absolutely gold.

- As for Matt and Lanny’s storyline, it was pretty good. I obviously don’t care about it as much as I do with the A-storyline but I definitely have to give them credit for their performance towards the end of the episode; It was great and I also like how Matt/Lanny didn’t annoy me as much as usual lol. 

[silly-anshe]

Till the sun grows cold and the stars grow old - chapter five: Hold on to me [part III]

Summary:  Jon is left shaken by visions of smoke and stone. But he's also shaken by the words said the previous night; guilt, anger and hurt weight heavy in his heart. And a truth he's not ready to share yet, not even say aloud. But the truth always finds its way to the light, even if it hurts, even if it makes you feel helpless.

A/N: you can also read here

                                               ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The morning skies were heavy and grey, and the winds were strong and cold. A storm is coming, Jon thought. He woke up in the middle of the night, haunted by dreams. The one that woke him up was more of a nightmare, his worst nightmare. He was in Winterfell, that much he knew, but it was almost unrecognizable. He was in the courtyard, surrounded by stone and smoke. Up in the air, unnerving screeches made the earth under him tremble. He wanted to run but it was as if he was a tree, his feet planted on the ground like old roots. He was alone, surrounded by smoke and shadows. He heard another screech and it rattled his bones. He felt a wave of fear wash over him as a stream of fire came from the sky and set the whole courtyard ablaze. When he woke up it wasn’t the heat of the flames he felt, but the cold winds of the winter night.

The feeling of dread that the nightmare brought with it kept Jon awake; now, the sun was slowly rising in the sky. A brand-new day. And more problems to deal with, the voice in his head reminded him. Since his mind was tormented, he figured he’d have a bath and go over some of the battle plans he had discussed with Davos. But not even hot water and the impending war against the dead could give his mind focus. His mind was everywhere. What if I made a mistake? What if this isn’t the way? He found himself thinking. That nightmare had left him shaken. It felt as real as the wooden piece sybolizing the Knights of the Vale he had in his hand, it felt as real as the wind finding its way into the room. It would have been easier if it was just the nightmare that made him feel that way, but alas, things were always more complicated. Words spoken in an empty solar, with a crackling fire as the only witness. Sansa, angry and hurt. But he also was angry and hurt. Angry at her, because he couldn't understand her, and angry at himself because somehow, he had hurt her, and seeing her hurt, again, after all she’s been through hurt him too. It would be simpler if he could just forget their argument, but his mind wouldn’t let him. Every word, every look, was printed on his mind and haunted him by repeating themselves over and over again.

“Why did you do it?”

“We already told you, he was a threat to our House”.

“He was a threat to all of us the minute he decided to stay”

“The reason I never told you about the Vale is because if I asked for his help, I knew I had to repay Littlefinger in some way. I knew what he wanted since the day we retook Winterfell, he told me himself”

“That was reason enough to send him back to the Vale”

“You need to keep men like that close to you. If they’re close, at least you can know what they want, what they do. He betrayed everyone he knew. Would you had me sent a man like that away, to plan Gods know what?”

“Yes. If it meant you were safe, then yes. Especially after I left”

“You think I kept Littlefinger around for fun? His face reminded me of every single thing I’ve been through”

He could see now that she was right. They were both right. Lord Baelish was a threat, and the more time they gave him to scheme and plot against them, the more likely he would've succeeded. But his cousins had stopped him, for good. But now, he realizes he wished he had done it himself, with his own hands. After every single crime he committed, after every atrocity, he wished he could have beat him to a pulp, until there was no more of his hand that blood and bone.

“What did you do?”

“I slept with her”

The way her body was tensed, just like a bowstring ready to be set loose. And her eyes, Gods, her eyes. He prayed to the Old Gods to be kind enough with her, for her to never encounter hurt and pain ever again, and somehow, and he delivered both at her feet. But she was quick to transform that pain into icy anger and lash out at him.

“So you decided to play the game? A game you obviously have no idea how to play?”

“You think this was a game for me?”

“It sure feels like it. First you gamble with our home and lands, then with our own lives. And now you tell me you gave yourself to her”

“I didn’t give myself to her”

“Right, you just bedded her. The North surely will thank you for that”

“You say all you want, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t do this to help the North, for the people. I’m not asking you to understand"

There could be ice between them, Seven Hells, the Wall itself could stand tall between them, but it would melt eventually. Her ice quickly transformed into fire, mimicking his. And lately, that fire has been growing, burning him slowly, painfully.

                                              ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a few more hours, he decided it was time he visited Bran and Sam and tell his friend the truth. The castle was fully alive, with kitchen maids coming and going, the clash of steel against steel as people trained in the courtyard, the eerie song of the dragonglass the blacksmiths were working with in the smithy. It felt familiar. War shouldn’t feel familiar, he thought. But it’s all you’ve known since you left, a voice responded. With these thoughts, he headed towards the library tower.

He knocked the heavy wooden door twice, each followed by a “wait, please” and “just a minute”. He thought Sam was surrounded by books and parchments, so he just opened the door instead of knocking the door for a third time.

“Please, be careful with the door!” Sam

“I’ll be careful” he answered, trying to calm down his friend

“Jon, it’s you” the former brother of the Night’s Watch said with a sigh of relief. “I thought it was Maester Wolkan. We’ve been gathering all the documented reports of the Others” he explained while looking at the floor, it was covered with books. There were parchments all over the table, some with ripped edges and yellow, marked by time. "I don't think he likes me very much. The library is like you're seeing it ever since I arrived" his friend continued, with more of a tint of guilt in his voice.

"He doesn't hate you, Sam. He's just used to having this place to himself" Bran said, always keeping his eyes on an old tome about the Age of Heroes that must be, at the very least, a couple of centuries old.

"As you can see, we're trying to find any piece of information about the Night King. Bran told me of his vision, of how he was made. So I thought that maybe we could find something in these books" he explained, "even if it is in the form of legend or tale".

"It goes back to the war between the Children and the First Men" Bran remarked. "Any information we can come across would most likely be written in a story, like the ones Old Nan used to tell us. Stuff of legend".

"Every single thing counts, even those you might come across as a tale. Every new piece of information we have will makes us understand him and his army, it will help us find a way to defeat him" Jon assured them.

"I really hope so" Sam said. "I'm sorry Jon, if you came to see if had any news, I'm afraid we can't give you any", the way his shoulders were down, how he looked down at the floor and how he looked, with a creased doublet he was trying to cover up with his cloak and like he needed a good night's sleep, or maybe ten; it all made Jon realized his friend has been working non-stop.

"Sam, it's alright. I already told you that the information you gave me means a lot. Don't stress yourself if you can't find anything more. We'll fight with what we have" Those last words that came out of his lips reminded him of another time, a night before a battle. He had said those words to Sansa, to assure her that no matter the odds, they would win. And they almost lost that battle, they almost lost Winterfell. He had already lost Rickon that day, right in front of him, and he almost lost Sansa too. If it weren't for her and the Knights of the Vale, he wouldn't be alive, he was certain. But it's not going to be like last time, he thought. We have more men and we have Daenerys' dragons. We can do this. I can do this. He gave his friend a reassuring smile, and he returned it.

"So, what are you doing here? Not that you're not welcomed, it's just that I figured you'd be out there in the courtyard or planning for the war. You know, what commanders do" he added with a small smile.

"I wanted to talk with you Sam" he started "We both did, actually" he said, looking at Bran.

"Why don't you sit, Sam?" Bran suggested. He did as Bran told him and sat in a stool that was near the table.

"Alright" he looked first at him, then at Bran. "You're scaring me" he laughed nervously. "What happened?"

Sam's question lingered for a few moments. He wanted to get out of there. He's my brother, I have to tell him, but Gods, I don't know how to do this. How do I tell him his father and brother were killed, he thought. Killed by fire. We both saw how Mance was fed to the flames when Stannis was at the Wall. I know we both remember the screams. I've seen men die, he reflected. I've seen women and children die. I've seen people kill each other. I've killed, yet still, it's the image of Mance, tied up in that pyre, screaming, while flames danced around him one of the images that can't leave my mind. A horrible way to die, a cruel way to die. How can she do this to people? he thought bitterly. Stand there and watch people be consumed by the flames? Are all Targaryens like this? Am I like that, too? If not, what will it take for me to be numb to it all?

"You know what happened at the Reach?" Jon asked.

"Yes. Apparently, Highgarden was assaulted by Lannister forces and now House Tyrell is dead" he recalled. "Some say Cersei made my father Lord Paramount of the South" he said this with some disbelief in his tone and a little wonderment in his eyes. "Though there's no surprise there, my father uniting forces with the Lannisters" he continued.

"Do you know anything more?" it was Bran who asked him this.

"Not really, only the rumors. That Olenna Tyrell threw herself out of a tower, that she was killed by Jaime Lannister, that the Lannister forces took all the gold and food from Highgarden, though the last one is probably true" .

"Nothing more? That's all you heard?" Jon insisted.

"Yes. There's quite a distance from the Reach to here. Rumors don't travel fast in winter, I suppose" he tried to talk in a jesting tone, but Jon noticed the tension in his voice. "Why are you asking this?"

"Because we need to tell you something. About your father and brother" Bran answered.

"Oh, Gods, they died, isn't it? They died in battle?"

"Sam, I want you to listen to us carefully, alright? I need you to listen carefully to what Bran and I are going to tell you" Jon tried to calm down his friend. He only nodded, unable to get words out of his mouth.

Bran began explaining. "Like you said, the Lannister army assaulted Highgarden. Jaime Lannister was the commander and your father and brother fought beside him. After the battle was won, the Lannister army started taking all the gold and food they could find so they could send it to the capital. Just as they were leaving the castle, they were intercepted by a horde of Dothraki riders".

Sam went white. The tales about the Dothraki and their ability to kill were known in Westeros, only now some had died by their blades and a few, a lucky few, had lived what it's like to meet a Dothraki in battle.

"Daenerys sent his men to intercept them?" Sam whispered.

"Not only that," Jon answered, never daring to look at his friend "she was there with one of her dragons".

The silence was deafening. If he didn't dare to look at his friend before, he could not dare, for the life of him, to look at him now. He only listened. There was a light sob.

"And what happened?"

"Daenerys burned all the food that the Lannister army took from the Reach. And, as if the horde wasn't enough..." Jon couldn't continue. Even as the words were about to leave his mouth, he couldn't help but imagine the massacre that it must have been. It made him sick, it made him angry.

"What happened?" Sam came closer to Jon, begging him for more information.

"She ordered her dragon to breath fire across the fields" Bran answered.

It was at this moment when Jon dared to look at Sam. His eyes were glimmering with unshed tears. There was sadness in his eyes, but there was also anger, disbelief, heartbreak. So much for him to handle.

"Your father and brother survived the battle" Jon quickly added. "There were a number of soldiers that also survived".

"So they're alive? Are they her prisoners? Did you see them at Dragonstone, Jon? Did you see them?" Sam asked frantically. Now Jon regretted telling him that. I'm getting his hopes up, only to hit him with the truth, he thought.

"Daenerys had the Dothraki take all the survivors to one spot, so she could talk to them. She talked to them about bringing peace to Westeros, how the Seven Kingdoms were suffering under Cersei's reign. She then told them to bend the knee and join her. Anyone that refused her offer would die" Bran told him.

"My father didn't kneel" Sam guessed. "He's a proud man, he'll do things they way he sees it's best, no matter the consequences".

"He didn't kneel, so Daenerys sentenced him to death" Bran concluded.

A few seconds passed before Sam talked. "You know, he wasn't a kind father. He was mean and always expressed his dissapointment in me" he revealed, with tears falling down his cheeks. "But he was still my father. He was still my mother's husband, and Dickon's and Tallas's father. I know he loved them, and they loved him".

Jon meditated on his friend's words. All his life, Sam was humiliated by his father, and now here he was, crying for his death, crying for his family. I don't dare to break my friend's heart, he thought, but he needs to know. He remembered all the times he mentioned his brother Dickon at the Wall, back when they were stewards. He always spoke of him with love and care.

"That's not all, Sam" Jon finally said. "Your brother... He stood up for your father. He refused to bend the knee too".

Sam just stared at him, his mind still processing what Jon's words meant. More tears fell down his cheeks. The silence was unbearable.

"I'm so sorry, Sam" Jon was quick to add. "I found out about it when I got here. She never told me a word of what had happened at the Reach" he explained.

"How" Sam whispered.

Jon looked at Bran. He could see something akin to worry glimmer in his eyes.

"How" Sam repeated, louder. "How did it happen? Was it beheading?" he inquired.

Jon couldn't help but gulp before answering his friend's question. "Dragonfire" Jon whispered.

Jon didn't know how much time it has passed until Maester Wolkan walked in again. "Your Grace, there you are. Lord Tyrion wishes to have an audience with you-"

"Not now, Wolkan. Tell him I'm busy" he said as he walked to the door.

"He told me it was an urgent matter"

"Tell him that right now I'm busy. Can't he talk with Sansa?" her name brought the memories of the previous night back to his head. One thing at a time, he reminded himself.

"He told me it was you he wished to speak to"

"As I said" his tone was harsher this time "tell him I'm busy. Anything that he wants to discuss with me, he can do so with the Lady of Winterfell".

"Yes, Your Grace" the Maester said with a light bow of the head and left.

Jon closed the door softly, as if it were made of glass. He turned around to see Sam sitting still, looking at nothing and quietly sobbing.

"Dickon" he started "He was good. He was good and kind and brave. And now he's dead. They're both dead" he stopped himself, as if he was coming to terms with the idea. "They didn't deserve to die like that, Jon. Nobody deserves to die like that" his friend stated.

"I know Sam, I know. And I will talk to her about thi-"

"And she comes here, talking about uniting the people, about leaving wars behind, about knowing what her father was" Sam interrumpted him, his voice becoming more frantic with each word "but she can't do that. She's not able to do that. She truly lives up to her House words" he spat.

The silence that befell the room was something tangible. Jon felt uncomfortable, he felt sorry for his friend. This is a mess.

"She doesn't deserve that Throne. What's the difference between her and Cersei Lannister? Or Stannis? He burned people alive, Bran told me he burned his own daughter. A man like that didn't deserve to rule. Cersei killed hundreds with wildfire. What's the difference between wildfire and dragonfire?"

"Sam, I will talk to her. I will confront her about this. I will get justice for your family, I promise" Jon knew he couldn't live up to his promise the moment the words left his mouth, and also did Sam.

"Justice? What justice, Jon? They're already dead. And we need her armies and her dragons" he said, resigned.

Bran's voice surprised him. "Jon" it almost sounded like a plea.

He looked at his cousin, then at his friend. He made up his mind. "We're going to win this war, we're going to defeat the Night King" he assured him. Bran called out his name once more, but Jon only looked at him. "And after we do that, you're welcomed to stay here, at Winterfell. You and your family. Your mother and sister, they can come here, once we recover from the war"

"Thank you, Jon, but you don't need to-"

"After the war, Daenerys will go south, to continue her conquest, but she won't have the North. I'll go to war, if it comes to that" Gods be good, he thought. There's no turning back from that. And I don't want to, he realized. "You're right, she doesn't deserve to rule, she does not deserve to rule over these people. We all fought so hard for our homes, many brave men and women died. We lost so much. And I'm not going to let it be in vain" he took Sam by the shoulder. "I already lost two brothers for the North's cause, I won't lose another. You're family, Sam"

Sam was really touched by everything Jon just said. It was with tears in his eyes that he replied to Jon "Daenerys is your family, too, Jon".

"She's not family. She might be my father's sister, but the Starks are my true family, you are my family". As he said those words, he felt as if a rock was lifted from his body, he was now weightless, nothing was pulling him down. "And there's nothing I wouldn't do, nothing, to keep my family safe" his grip was tighter, now.

Sam didn't say a word, he was letting Jon's words sink in. After a minute, his face transformed, even though there still were tears in his eyes, he was now smiling, a small thing really, but the smile was there. In a second, he pulled Jon into a tight hug. "Thank you, Jon. For everything" he said, tears running free down his cheeks.

They separated after Sam's words. He then went towards Bran. "Thank you, Bran. Thank you, both of you, for telling me this".

"Sam, do you want to have some time alone? Maybe we could send for Gilly and little Sam" Bran offered.

"You're very kind, but I think I'll retire to my chambers, if it's alright with you, Bran"

"Of course, go" Bran said and with that Sam was out of the Library Tower.

Jon felt free, that whatever that was holding him down now was gone.

"I hope you understand what you just did" Bran said, his eyes boring into his, like trying to figure out his future.

"What? With Sam?"

"No, the promise you made. To make the North independent"

"Well, first we have to defeat the Night King" he reminded Bran.

"Sansa's right. You gamble too much with things you shouldn't gamble with. It's too much of a risk"

Those words twisted inside him like a knife. "Sansa" was all Jon managed to say, whisper really. "What do you know about what Sansa said?"

"I know she didn't take too kindly to the nature of your relationship with Daenerys"

"Did you..." Jon was afraid to ask, afraid to know that Bran had seen their fight, afraid that he might know some things he wasn't ready to say out loud.

"Yes, I did. But only because I was worried about Sansa" he assured him. "I asked Wilton, the guard that stays at my door every night, to take me down to the Godswood at the Wolf Hour. When we were near the pools, we saw someone was there, sitting in front of the carved face. Wilton managed to see red hair, and told me it was Sansa, so I told him to take me to her. The wheeled chair is not the most sutile thing in the world, so she heard us coming. She stood up quickly, straightened her skirts and passed her hands across her face".

"Thank you, Wilton. I'll stay with my brother" she said in a dutiful tone.

"Of Course, I'll be right there by the entrance, my lady" and with that Wilton disappeared into the remnants of the night.

"What are you doing here this early?" she asked him, the dutiful tone in her voice gone. Now he could see the real Sansa, tired and conflicted about something.

"I was about to ask you the same thing. I came down to see if I could have a vision. Maybe at the Wolf Hour I'll be luckier. You?"

"I just needed some air, and some space" she was staring at the snow below her feet as she said this. "These last couple of days... It's been hard"

They stayed in silence for a while, enjoying the cold breeze of winter and the smell of fresh snow paired with the Weirwood. The smell of home.

He knew something troubled Sansa's mind, but still, he didn't expect her sister to be so direct. "Did you know about Jon and Daenerys?" her voice was stern and cold, almost as cold as the breeze.

He looked her in the eyes to respond. "Yes, I knew. And I talked to Jon about it. He told me he wanted to tell you himself"

“I just…” her breathing was ragged, as if she were running around like when they were kids, hiding behind the old trees of the Godswood. “I just don’t understand how he could do something like that” she confessed, confused and… there was something else, something Bran couldn’t quite place.

“He told me he did it so Daenerys would commit to our cause”

“Yes, I know. He told me the same” his sister told him. “But, Gods take me, I cannot understand” her voice was like ice, but there was something underneath.

“What do you mean?” he said.

“How am I supposed to tell the lords and ladies that Jon has not only bent the knee, but is also the long-lost son of Rhaegar Targaryen, and on top of that, that he’s been… consorting with Queen Daenerys Stormborn” she looked utterly lost. She looked scared, the first time he’d seen her like that since their reunion.

“It won’t be easy. Many will plot to leave. They won’t say anything in front of Daenerys, they’re afraid of her” he revealed.

“Well, she does have two full-grown dragons” she added, bitterly. “How am I supposed to protect our people? Some will label Jon a traitor, because they won’t understand, and they will plot against him, against us. But once everyone knows about Jon, I’ll have to protect all of them, the ones that will remain loyal to us and the ones that won’t from a Targaryen that’s known for burning her enemies alive”. She let out a heavy, trembling sigh. “With each day that passes, I feel like things are getting harder to control, like they’re getting further and further away from my reach, and I don’t… I truly don’t know what will happen if I fail” she confessed to him. She turned to him. Her eyes were glimmering with unshed tears. “I cannot fail, Bran. Not after all that’s happened” she whispered as a single tear fell down her cheek. "We're a pack, and the pack survives".

They remained in silence; he was taking in Sansa's words, his sister seemed to find comfort in the cold air of the night.

“You said it won’t be easy, but will we make it? Will we be able to fight together?” she asked him.

“Like I said the day Jon came home, two things could happen: he will have the support of the North and the Vale, or he will have the support of Daenerys Targaryen. I haven’t seen anything that showed me him having the support of both the lords and ladies and Daenerys.”

She set free some of the tears that she was holding back, her eyes lost, looking at something only she could see. After a few moments, she seemed more composed, free of whatever that was holding her down. “Do you want me to stay with you while you have your visions?” she offered, changing the subject.

“You should get some rest. The lords and ladies will need to borrow strength from the Lady of Winterfell”. This comment made her chuckle.

“You know, every time I come here, my mind just takes me back to when we were children” Sansa told him.

“When we played hide and seek…” he added with a little joyful tone in his voice.

“Knights dueling for the princess’ hand” she said, smiling at the past.

“Or at being wildlings” he said with a chuckle.

“Oh no, you, Arya and Rickon played at being wildlings” she reminded him. But just as she said their younger brother’s name, her face turned somber.

“I miss him, too” he said. “I’m sorry you had to see that”.

“I didn’t see it happen, Jon did” she responded. “After all that has happened to us, I thought I could handle it, that I could see Rickon like that” new tears began to fall down her cheeks. “But the truth is I only saw as Father was murdered. I didn’t see Robb or Mother. And I thank the Gods for that. Because I don’t know what would be of me if I had to witness all of it”. She stopped to dry the new tears that were falling down her cheeks.  “After we were all settled, the day we retook our home, I went to my chambers and cried myself to sleep” she continued.

“You couldn’t stop thinking about Mother and Father” he said. She just looked at him, her eyes unguarded and vulnerable.

“I miss them so much” she remarked.  After this, silence took over, leaving each of them to their thoughts. A few minutes passed before Sansa spoke again, memories pouring out of her mouth. “Mother caught me crying the night before we left for King’s Landing. I told her that I was afraid. Even though it was all I ever wanted, I was afraid. And she wouldn’t be there with me, nor you or Rickon. And what she said to me…” she smiled. It was a sad smile, remembering their parents was a hurtful thing. Still, after all these years.

“What did she say to you?” he asked.

“Hush, my love. You are a Stark of Winterfell. We might not see each other in a while, but remember you are strong, and brave. Remember our words: Winter is coming. You are a strong little lady and someday you’ll be a strong woman,a strong Queen. But also remember you’re a Tully: Family, Duty, Honor. Those are your words, too. Trust your family, remember your duty and always behave with honor. Everything will be fine. Always keep that in your heart, and you’ll always be safe”.

“She would be proud of you, Sansa” he offered. And it was the truth. Their mother would be very proud of her; not only was she Lady of Winterfell, leading them as the head of their House into the Long Night, but she was a strong woman, something she, and Arya, took from their Lady Mother.

“She would be proud of all of us. They both would" she told him. She smiled again, but this time it wasn't sadness he found in his sister's face. It was nostalgia, missing all those moments they knew they could never get back, but no matter how far away they seemed, they were sweet memories now. It was a sense of security; they were home, the four of them. They were safe. It was faith, believing that from some place, their parents were looking after them, giving them strength, guiding them.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay? I wouldn't mind" Sansa offered again. "Besides, I don't like the idea of you being here alone at dawn. There are too many strangers in Winterfell"

"I won't be alone. Wilton is at the entrance and I'm sure you'll send another guard just in case. Also, Sam should be here any minute now"

His sister studied him for a moment, considered staying with him, even though it was obvious she didn't prepare for a long stay. She had one of her old dresses on and a grey cloak to shield her from the cold. She didn't plan on coming out. She must have wandered here. Something's bothering her.

"Just send a couple of guards alongside with Wilton" he reassured her.

"Alright" she said, still not entirely convinced.

"I'll be fine, Sansa. I've been in-

Sansa interrupted him with a hug. "Just... just be cautious. Promise me?" she said with worry.

He had a feeling that she wasn't just talking about staying outside during nighttime. "I promise".

Sansa let go of him after a few seconds. Her face showed determination, but her eyes shone with sadness. "I'll see you later".

"After she left, I tried to find what affected her so much" Bran concluded. He took one look at Jon, trying to read him. "It didn't take me much to find you two at the solar" he sighed.

Jon didn't know how to feel. Was he relieved? Was he scared? Probably both. "Bran..."

His cousin didn't face him, his fixed in an invisible point in the middle of the room.

"I... I don't know what to do, Bran" he was surprised to hear his voice break. Before he knew it, he was crying the tears he held on for so long.

At the sound of Jon's tears, Bran turned to him, seeing him. "You love her" he whispered. There wasn't surprise in his voice, there wasn't reproach. It was an statement.

His sobs grew stronger and louder. He wanted to talk, to offer an explanation, but the words wouldn't come out.

"Jon" Bran sighed.

He couldn't bare to look at him. What would he think of me, the voice in his head spat. He wanted to say something to him, anything, but for the life of him, he just couldn't. He had no words and all he was left with was the tears he hadn't shed and the emotions he had held back for what it seemed like an eternety.

"Jon" Bran repeated, a little harsher this time, so Jon would look at him. "You love Sansa" he told him, as if he were a child explaining him how sums work. "And that's alright. After what you've been through, what you both have been through... You feel like you don't deserve this, don't you?"

Jon was caught off guard. He didn't expect Bran to be so direct, or to read him so clearly. "I... I..." again, words were failing him and his thoughts were all over the place. "Before I left, I was a bastard. I knew I could never give anything to anyone, that I'd had no lands to call my own, that I'd have no woman to call my wife, no children to call mine. So I never dared to think about it. I knew it would be as easy as grabbing a star from the sky" he confessed. "But then, when I came back-"

"Everything changed" Bran finished for him. "Now you know you're the rightful heir to the Iron Throne. The Seven Kingdoms are yours by rights of succession" he reminded Jon. "But that's not what you want, isn't it?"

He looked up to his cousin, and simply moved his head. "I don't want the throne, just as I didn't want the Northern crown. I just want peace and be here, at home" he told him, looking at the floor.

"It's funny how the world works, Jon. The things men and women do in order to protect those they care about. Duty can be a heavy crown... But what is duty compared to love?" he said

At the mention of those words, Jon looked at Bran. Those words had an odd feeling growing in his chest, the same effect the Red Woman's words gave him back at the Wall, when he was Lord Commander of the Night's Watch.

"You're surprised"

"I haven't heard that question in a long time" he said, and a sad smile started to grow on his face at the memory of the old Targaryen Maester.

"Aemon Targaryen" Bran recalled. "I'm afraid I'll have to disagree with your relative".

"How so?" Jon was intrigued.

"Duty and love are not opposites. At least, not always" he reflected. "Why did you bend the knee?"

"To protect the North" he replied in an instant

"And why do you feel like you have to protect it?" Bran asked

"Because it's my duty, it's always been. Ever since I swore an oath"

"And that duty, that desire to protect the North, where does it come from?" he continued with his inquery.

"I protect it because it's my home, a part of me"

"Your home, and you love it" he stated. "Sometimes, duty and love go hand in hand" he pointed out. "But sometimes, we must choose between one and the other. Father chose both, his love was with your mother, as same as his duty. Robb chose love, forsaking his duty" he said this as he took his hand in his. Bran's hands were awfully cold. "Jon, you've chosen duty over love so many times. You have the chance to choose love, now" he reassured him.

Jon was scared. "But what about my duty? What about Daenerys?"

Bran let go of his hand, his eyes going back to that invisible point. "Everthing will work out the way it's supposed to".

[andipxndy-writes]

I Don’t Care - Sam & Kat

[[I wrote a new thing! So basically Ed Sheeran’s new album is amazing and I have a fave song on the album, which 100% reminded me of how Sam feels about Kat. Obviously, Sam isn’t mine (they belong to @a-simple-rper), but I love them a lot and these cuties deserve a fic together because Rick and Laura get too much attention.

So yeah, basically I’ve been listening to this song a lot, and even though Sam can’t sing to save their life, I will always love how this song represents how they feel for Kat.

Edited to completion! Enjoy!]]

---

I Don’t Care

Sam hated dressing up.

No, not dressing up as in Halloween costumes. They meant dressing up as in a suit and a tie. Dressing in a “monkey suit”, as Jake called it, was extremely uncomfortable, from the tight pants to the stiff collar and the tie that felt like it was cutting off their circulation. They would never voluntarily wear something like this. Not if they had a choice.

Except for, you know, the annual Martins family dinner party.

It wasn’t a thing they usually went to. In fact, Kat and Laura rarely went to it themselves, preferring to stay away from their uptight and toxic aunts and probably keep that toxicity away from their own kids. Which Sam completely understood – they would never forgive that cousin Lara for regularly calling them a piece of shit in front of other family members (not literally, because she always had a posh way of saying it), and they were honestly so glad that she was now very intimidated by the twins and their total ability to beat her up with no remorse.

Standing to the side of the room, their eyes scanned over the various people milling about the room at the party. It wasn’t hard to spot Rick and Laura in the crowd (he was a whole foot taller than everyone else in the room), the pair of them speaking to a couple of Laura’s male cousins. They remembered Kat mentioning something about them being involved in catering, or something to do with food, and obviously Rick and Laura were an amazing power couple who ran their own bar with food business together, so of course they’d want to have a conversation with them. Probably about business stuff.

Jake and Allie were also in a conversation with some of Kat’s relatives, and it was easy to see that they'd fit right in. With them both being British (poster accent and all), and Allie even knowing how to interact with people of upper social classes (clearly something that Sam lacked), it was easier for them to just integrate and get accepted. Heck, they looked like they fit right in with Jake looking almost like a natural in his suit and Allie looking elegant in her dress.

And Kat, well, she was looking as beautiful as ever, laughing with what looked to be some aunts and uncles. Sam had felt so awkward in that conversation, not really knowing what they were on about, that they’d excused themselves to go to the toilet and just hadn’t returned. And they doubted that anyone noticed they were missing anyway.

They just really didn’t want to be there. They’d rather be at home with the twins, taking care of and playing with them whilst Kat dealt with her family. They didn't really like them, and the sentiment was returned, honestly. If Sam was the punk that knocked up Katherine and possibly hindered her career in research, then they were the stuck up asshats that couldn’t realise when there was genuine love in their relationship.

Standing at the side of the room, sipping on a glass of champagne (how freaking arrogant) as they watched everyone, they seriously considered telling Kat that they were going to head off. As much as they loved her... they felt so out of place in this room that it hurt.

They didn’t notice that she’d left her conversation until they realised their drink had been taken from their hand, and Kat was stood there, knocking it back before placing the empty glass on a nearby table. They stared at her, confused.

“What are you—?”

“You look dead bored,” she responded bluntly, turning to them with a smile on her face. “Plus, this party is a little more on the dull side. My mom’s sisters are all pretty stuck up in a way, but they’re not all too bad, and neither are my uncles. Plus, my cousins aren’t all like Lara.”

“Really?” They were doubtful of that, and Kat could clearly see it on their face. She sighed in response, deciding to just take their hands and squeeze them a little.

“Mom wanted to speak with you,” Kat said softly, changing the topic of conversation. “Apparently she’s been wanting to speak with you all night, but you keep disappearing...”

They gave a guilty smile at that. “Really? Thought I’d stick out like a sore thumb...”

“Oh come on, Sammy, don’t be like that...”

He pursed his lips and looked away. “Where’s she sat?” they asked, avoiding the look on Kat's face. They did not need her “don’t pity yourself” looks right then. Maybe a talk with mom would do them some good.

“At that table, over there.” Kat pointed over to a table where Sam could clearly see her mom sat. With her husband. Having a conversation.

They suddenly didn’t feel like going over. Not with Kat’s dad there too.

“Should I wait a little longer...?”

“Nah, she’s fine. Just go.” At the look they gave her, she sighed. “Dad won’t bite your head off. Go and sit next to mom and speak with her.”

Sam still looked very reluctant to do so, but walked over there anyway, appearing very nervous as they sat down next to Jane. “Hey, mom...”

Jane paused her conversation and turned from where she was talking with her husband to smile brightly at Sam. “Oh, Sam! Wonderful! When did you get there?”

Before they could answer, Phil stood, not sending Sam a single glance as he straightened his suit and brushed it down. “I’m off to get another drink and mingle,” he said stiffly, before walking off.

Jane pursed her lips as she watched her husband, sighing through her nose.

“He really doesn’t like me, huh?” Sam asked, the smile on their face a little on the sad side. It didn’t matter that they and Kat were now thinking of getting married and being completely committed to each other, or that they were the father to his grandchildren, or even that they were trying hard to juggle being a dad with longer bar shifts so that they could put more into the college fund. Phil Banks just didn’t like Sam a single bit.

Jane glanced at Sam, ready to defend her husband and say that he really did like Sam, but seeing the look on their face made her hold her tongue. And her lack of an answer just made them look down at the table, deflated, before they began to push themselves away from the table.

“I think I might just tell Kat I’m picking up the kids and heading home...”

“Before we’ve had our conversation?”

Sam paused in their movements to look over at Jane, seeing something like a teasing look in her eyes. A teasing look that meant she’d caught them out and they were going to do as she told them to. That same teasing look they’d received from Kat many a time, and they'd spotted Rick being on the receiving end himself a few times from Laura right before he quit slacking and took his turn in caring for the kids.

So, sighing, they sat back down, turning to face Jane, leaning on the table. Looking mildly miffed, they waited for her to speak.

“So, how’s work been recently?”

They pursed their lips at that. Small talk? “It's been good. I’ve been behind the bar a bit more, what with the triplets getting older. Rick has more daddy duties.”

Jane gave a chuckle at that. “Oh, that I don’t doubt. Laura wouldn’t let him slack a single bit. Always making sure people do their share of the work.” Her smile widened as she moved on to her next topic, looking a bit more excited. “And my first grandbabies? How are little Annabelle and Tyler?”

“Growing fast.” Sam finally cracked a smile, thinking of their babies – well, they were more like pre-schoolers now, but they would always be their babies. “Anna is reading anything and everything now – we actually found her trying to read a draft of one of Kat’s papers in her study the other day. And Tyler is growing so tall so quickly.” They let out a chuckle. “He can’t still for a second.”

Jane laughed at that. “That definitely reminds me of George.” Ah yes, the family fireman. The first to study a non-academic subject. Though it paved the way for the younger cousins, definitely.

Sam glanced over at the older brother of the twins, who appeared to be having a very animated conversation with some cousins and making them laugh. Yeah... that was very Tyler. They could see that.

Before they could say anything else, though, Jane spoke again, her smile softening.

“It’s okay to not fit in here, Sam.”

They turned to her suddenly, a frown on their face. “...What?”

“It’s okay to not fit in. Everyone talks about everyone, and you don’t really get much privacy with three nosy sisters and their well-off husbands.”

“Is that meant to be comforting?” they asked sarcastically, not looking amused at all. “That just means everyone knows about me.” And how terrible I am for Kat.

“And they’re comparing Kat to me.” She leaned closer to Sam, lowering her voice. “Right down to the choice in partner.”

Sam paused, blinking. Well, they hadn’t expected that one. “...Huh?”

Jane gave an almost conspiratory smirk at that. “Oh yes. Phil was exactly like you when we got married – not really focused on education, but passionate about his own things that my family didn’t get. Elizabeth was the worst at the time, always gossiping and bad mouthing about him, but then he went into business and he just shot up in his career, and they couldn’t say or do anything. Not when I had a husband who built his own success, and three absolutely beautiful children.” She placed a hand on their arm. “Stop caring and take your own path. Kat is so happy with you. My sisters don’t care about that, but my goodness is she happy. And I’ve got five incredible grandchildren, as well as two more children – more than any of my sisters have.” She then lowered her voice to a whisper. “You’re my favourite, though. Don’t tell Rick I said that.”

Sam grinned at that, finally feeling a bit more relaxed. Like Kat, Jane always had a way of making them feel at home around her, even if it felt more like her simply being a mom to them too. Even with her heightened intellect, she had a way of being down to earth and bubbly.

Just like their Kat.

Just as they were opening their mouth to thank Jane – God, was she a great mom or what? – they felt another hand on their arm, this one pulling them out of their seat. They looked up at see Kat grinning down at them, her eyes bright and excited.

“Come dance!”

“Dance?” Their eyes widened. “Here?”

“It’ll be fun!”

“But—” Glancing over at a smiling Jane, her words came to mind again.

It’s okay to not fit in. Stop caring and take your own path.

Groaning – more to play up the whole reluctance act than anything – they let her pull them up and away from Jane. Shooting the woman a glance as they were pulled away, they smiled widely as she waved at them.

Stopping in the middle of the room, surrounded by numerous cousins, aunts and uncles who were just watching them with interest, Kat turned to them and placed her hands on their shoulders, leaving them to place their hands on her hips as they swayed slowly to the music.

“So, what did mom want to talk to you about?” Kat asked curiously as they moved. Sam’s eyes drifted upwards in faux thought.

“Mmm... not telling.”

“What? Oh, come on...”

They grinned down at her. “Nope. Not tellin'.”

“Sammy...”

They chuckled, leaning down to kiss her softly. “Hey, how about we spice up this party a little?” they murmured to her, a cheeky glint in their eyes. Which made Kat narrow her own.

“How...?” she asked hesitantly.

“Well, the music for one could put even Tyler to sleep. So let’s fix that. Then we could break out the good stuff at the back of the bar.”

“Oh my God, Sam, this isn’t a bar party.”

“You’re right. A bar party would be better.”

“You know, people are gonna stare...”

Sam just grinned widely at her, before spinning her and dipping her with a flourish, making her laugh. They leaned down close to her, brushing their lips against hers.

“I don’t care.”

[okimargarvez]

PRISON BREAK

Original title: Prison break.

Prompt: what if from 9x12. Warning: mention of sex, slight A.U., Penelope OOC.

Genre: angst, comedy, smut.

Characters: Luke Alvez, Penelope Garcia.

Pairing: Garvez.

Note: oneshot 19 in Garvez collection.

Legend: 💏😘😈❗👨‍👩‍👧‍👦🎲🎈👻.

Song mentioned: La paura non esiste, Tiziano Ferro.

GARVEZ STORIES

PRISON BREAK

Another day like the others, another time-card-punching. Sometimes he would like the hours to pass more quickly, but then he stops a second and realizes that he can't do anything, because he doesn't have a goal, an object, he simply proceeds by inertia, because there is no other alternative acceptable, neither from society, nor from his religion. Like when you change house because you are alone, like when you ask around and you never find forgiveness, like when you go everywhere and everywhere there is no light, as always anyone who speaks, a voice, always...

He doesn’t expect to see a change. He learned not to expect anything at all. Maybe that mission has nothing to do with it, maybe it was already like that before but did not have the courage to admit it. Maybe his whole life was just a mistake, and his mother would have done better to keep her legs closed that night. Or maybe not, but now he is no longer able, even if he strives to get a headache, to remember what life was like before. They say the war changes people.

The young man shakes his head trying to drive away those thoughts, only to be able to get right into his role, to show the outside world his beautiful tanned face while smiling greeting colleagues. Until no one notices it, he will at least be left alone to bask in self-pity.

 She should have accepted it. A person with sense into her, would have done it. She had the opportunity to save herself, to avoid ending up in this place, and she refused it for a stupid matter of principle. Never on the side of the feds. But not even with Shane. It was to escape him that she had found herself in this mess.

Of course, she couldn't imagine that they would propose a job to her. The great boss wanted her skills at his service. But she had been adamant and so here she is, waiting to enter what will become her home for who knows how long, perhaps for life. After all, she had committed a serious crime and therefore had to pay her debt to society.

The best thing she can do is screwing up, since she was born. This thing was even less serious than the last, the girl thinks, scratching her wrist, just where the clearest sign of what looks like a scratch or a cut is still partially visible. And you need... you need to be sad... you want it… However, mistake doesn't exist, it exists only when it's evening, only who wanted to be wrong, does it…

They call her name. She stands up. She feels the glances of the other prisoners on her. She tries to ignore everything, because, in the end, she is not at all sorry to have hacked those companies and would do it again, even if the conclusion was the same. If you do not even have the right to fight and believe in your ideals, what are you living for?

 Yet, this time there is something different.

It is that shortly before arriving at his workplace, he received a call from Rossi, the only one who had stood by him on that occasion, who had defended him so much that when they finally decided to not to degrade him, but to send him to a more humble and more "adapted to his temperament and his ability" work; that time, the Italian American had left the Bureau for the umpteenth time, to return to his first passion: writing. He had been like a second father for him.

Doing him a favor was not at all a nuisance, on the contrary. To succeed at least once to repay the debt that he felt to have towards him, was only a pleasure, an owe.

The guy enters the room with a folder in his hands. Certainly, he doesn't expect that the matter that he has to deal with, it's a young person, like that girl. He remains on the threshold to look at her for a moment, while she seems not to pay much attention to him. She has brown hair, neither light nor dark, with reddish reflections, just a little longer than the shoulders. She is dressed entirely in black: the black jacket is particularly bizarre and she wears a black skirt that just covers at least the legs and black shoes; the only thing of another color, a strange metallic gray, is a kind of corset that highlights, as if it were needed, further the prosperous breasts, exposed to the sight by a showy neckline. She also wears mesh gloves, as well as a bracelet on her wrist... handcuffs. No other accessories. The make-up is the last piece to understand who he is dealing with. A goth.

After what seems like an hour, he finally decides to get closer. He must remember that he is the law and that she is a potential criminal. A hacker, according to what he read. But the reason she's here gets a smile from him: boycotting multinationals who tested their products on innocent animals. He strives to be professional, he owes it to Dave. -Mrs.Garcia?- another surprise was to find that she it is not a Latin chica at all. Her skin is too pale, and definitely it brings out more because of those dark clothes. And her traits are certainly not Hispanic. In fact, on her file there is written that she was adopted.

She looks at him in an apparently indifferent way, just because she is forced. The first thing she thinks as soon as her eyes rest on him, is "that is the most beautiful man I have ever seen", actually. She can't avoid starting a comparison with Shane, without wanting it and without realizing it. He is definitely higher; more muscular, his skin is darker, tanned... his eyes more intense. She doesn't know and doesn't want to know why such an adjective came to her mind, but she finds it particularly apt. Yes, intense. He must not be more than thirty years old, certainly they are almost the same age, but his gaze seems more mature, as if he had seen terrible things, since he came on Earth, and maybe he really is.

They remain staring at each other without neither opening their mouth, for at least two minutes. Then he forces himself to do something, as not to remain stuck in that limbo forever. -You know why you're here?- he suddenly decides to give up the formal ways.

She glances at him as if to ask him if he believes her stupid. -Sure. I hacked a few web sites and ended up on the black list of the CIA.- she pronounces the whole sentence as if she really doesn't give matter to the situation, but he is not so naive, indeed. He soon had to learn to read the traits of who is lying or is not telling the whole truth. She can pretend with all her might, but it is clear that what she is feeling right now is simply fear.

And wherever I go, wherever I go, that fear will come back tomorrow, tomorrow...

-Good.- if she wants to play this game, he certainly doesn't back down. -I have to enter your data in the database, before deciding in which area to send you. Do you understand?- the girl still doesn't replicate anything, just looking at him. ...and wherever it go, wherever it go, be sure enough, and tighten yours reasons... It is at that moment that he decides to change his approach again. -Ok, Penelope- immediately notice how her shoulders stiffen and her lips stretch out, hearing him say her name -we try to make it as painless as possible.- he pauses, gets up and approaches her. She backs away the little she can with the handcuffs hooked to the table. He scrutinizes her from above. -My name is Luke and I will take care of your case, of you, as long as you stay in this jail.- she jumps as he approaches her. -So it would be better if you get used to my presence.- she closes her eyes and swallows. The young man waits, resting a hand on the table, not far from the female arm. From that position he has a good view of his breasts, but he is not here for this and he has to repeat it at himself a few times.

-Tell me what you want from me and let's get it over.- the girl finally says. The tone of voice wanted to play hard and tough, but after a few words it falters and finally breaks like a glass dropped to the ground. Even the eyes seem to fill with tears, some of them escape and a black strip is now painted on her face. He has to kept himself from stretching the hand and cleaning her face. She closes her eyelids again but begins to shake.

-Penelope...- he calls her by her name, although he uses a distant and professional tone.

-Don't call me Penelope! We are not friends, you aren't a man I met in a bar and who wants to flirt with me!- with all those jumps she continue to pull the handcuffs, causing red marks on her wrists. Luke, this time without thinking, tries to stop her by blocking her both arms on the table. She desists almost immediately.

-I’m aware that this is a difficult situation. You have no previous. And, but this must stay between us, if it was me, you shouldn’t even be here. Animal experimentation is something... horrible.- for the first time, Penelope opens her eyes wide and looks at him like he is a human being.

-You... are you an animal lover? Do you love animals?- now yes, this is the real Penelope. She tries to wipe away the tears, but it's not possible, so Luke decides to do it for her. Just one of his hands is as big as her face and for a moment the girl enjoys the of caress as if it were only this, and not a pitying gesture.

Luke nods, leaving his hand in that position for a few seconds too long. -Yes, I can’t stand the violence on the weak or those who can’t defend themselves.- suddenly he feels embarrassed to talk about himself. He is not used to exposing himself, it is much more convenient to interrogate others. When he breaks the contact, they both feel an icy chill. He returns to the chair and pulls a computer out of the bag. He notices immediately the way she looks at the device, i.e. with interest. -I have to evaluate your level of danger, to decide where to send you. I'll ask you some standard questions, try to answer honestly, ok?- she nods. He doesn't know her yet, but she wouldn’t be able to lie anyway.

Because mistake doesn’t exist, and the fear doesn’t exist, because whoever hates you can pretend it, just to see you cry... but I will love you...

 Penelope is very nervous while awaiting the results of the test. She doesn’t know what to expect. Perhaps she is afraid of discovering that she had always been a psychopath, that her whole life was a train directed towards this ultimate, definitive failure. Maybe she did well not to get into the FBI, maybe it's really better if they lock her up and throw away the key.

Maybe.

Like when, for sadness, you travel around the world...

Luke is definitely much quieter, certainly not at stake his life, but already from the answers of the girl has understood how much more that she is a victim, more than executioner and guilty. She hasn’t had an easy life in the last year. Her parents died in a car accident and even if she didn’t want to tell him explicitly, it is very evident that she considers herself the only responsible person; not the drunk driver of the van with a fake license plate, but she, who had snuck out. Regret was the only thing he read in her eyes. It incorporated everything.

Like when you look at me and I don’t answer...

She had absolutely not wanted to tell him why she hadn’t accepted the advantageous offer of Agent Hotchner. She had remained irremovable until he approached to remove the handcuffs. Now she is still massaging her own wrists, she never looks up, nor does she say a single word. She seems to wait that him leaving, but she should have understood that it is not over yet.

-Penelope.- he says only her name, as if he just liked the sound of it. He approaches her, catching the slight shake of her shoulders. He stops a few centimeters. -I have the results. You're not a danger to society.- he struggles not to laugh as he saying it, as if someone could ever believe something like that. Okay, the appearance can be deceiving, but... -It’s the time to go.- he is almost touching her shoulder, not even knowing if this is a gesture of encouragement or what, but at the last he surrenders and pulls back the hand. She stands up and turns to him. -I'm sorry.- he adds, biting his tongue a second later. He has to get not involved. Who knows why, what is this girl, to be able to penetrate his barrier of protection and indifference towards everything. Is it possible that a prosperous breast is enough?

Like when, as always, you always wait, like when you only look at your faults...

-I'm sorry, Penelope, but I have to search you. It is the procedure.- he tries to show himself as neutral as possible to the prospect of passing his hands on that explosive body. The girl opens her eyes wide, looks at him directly, challenging him to do it seriously.

-But this shouldn’t deal with women agents?- she is right and Luke knows, but what she ignores is that her stay here is not completely regular, so the fewer people know, better is. Only a week, and then he can go back to his gray routine. He can do it. The young man stands in front of her, puts his hands on her shoulders and starts to grope her arms, as they teach him to do. He then moves onto the ribs, inadvertently touching the outer side of the breast. He continues downward, but feels her eyes on him, though she says nothing. Even when he touches the girl's hips, he pretends it's an aseptic gesture, but both feel a shock. He lowers to check even the legs, too uncovered. It is clear to both that there would be no need for it, what can she hide there? But he acts anyway, as if he couldn’t do otherwise, so with a simple glance he makes her understand his next move. Penelope leans on the table, while he gently takes one shoe first and then the other, checking that there is nothing inside. Thus, barefoot, she feels even more vulnerable. Luke helps her to wear them again and without realizing she finds herself against his chest.

And when nothing, when nothing can offend you... it's only then that you really know how to be... only sometimes, certain nights, only when you love yourself...

When man feels the breast of the brunette against his body, every rational thought goes out the window. Maybe he shouldn’t have agreed to help Rossi. How could he imagine that it would be so difficult? It's been too long since the last time he did...

-I bring you the new uniform.- the words overlap as he runs out of the room, before she could notice the reaction that has caused to him their closeness.

She would have had to bet that she will not to sleep the first night, but as usual she was able to delude herself. Every time she tried to close her eyes she relived the scene of the search, but instead of agent Luke, there was her ex-boyfriend and he didn’t limit himself to brushing the boundaries of her body, he demanded and even a lot. What she had never allowed him to get.

She had tried counting sheep, anything, but sleep hadn’t come, or rather the weariness of all the hours she had been in Virginia had made itself felt, but she hadn’t been able to rest anyway. And wherever I go, wherever I go, that fear will come back tomorrow, tomorrow... Penelope without realizing it starts scratching the red mark on her right wrist, the more the anxieties become strong, tormented her, the more she takes it out on herself, until the blood comes out. When the liquid begins to run along the entire arm, the girl is forced to notice what she has done, but this doesn’t stop her.

The nail penetrates into the flesh, made ever more tender and fragile. Her eyes closed, she sees her mother's lifeless body, covered by a sheet, next to her husband's. They don’t look like real people, but wax statues. She can feel that cold voice asking her Do you recognize them? Are they your parents? It would have been enough to open the mouth and answer affirmatively, yet she hadn’t succeeded. Not even to nod. She had signed all the documents and then went outside. It was not raining, on the contrary, the sun was shining in the sky. She had never felt before so alone in her life.

 And wherever I go, wherever I go, that fear will come back tomorrow, tomorrow...

Luke managed to sleep, but his dreams weren't less painful than the young girl's thoughts. He woke up with a stain on his underwear, something that didn’t happen him since he was in high school. He only remembered that he was shouting a name, some orange spots and then...

He needed to run to work. He had to keep an eye on Penelope... Miss Garcia. Six more days before Hotchner comes to claim her. Anything can happen in a prison, even in a woman prison. Especially to someone like her, who doesn’t seem at all prepared to handle such a situation. Women can also be crueler than men. And he is not the only agent. Since he works in this place, he has witnessed things he would rather forget. He knows how it works, he always knew it. Those rumors that flying around are not just rumors, for once. All the girls who end up there must undergo a further test, not marked on any card. The last admission tests.

He can’t imagine what they could do to her. He understands that he can’t allow it to happen, not just because Rossi asked him to. Penelope has something special, forces him to come out of his selfish shell, pushes him to want to try again the feeling of having that soft body against his, maybe to wrap his arms around her hips and what he would be willing to do to listen his name coming out of those lips?

because whoever hates you can pretend it, just to see you cry...

 When he arrives in front of her cell, his head full of imaginary moans and his hands that still seem stained with that semi-transparent liquid, he certainly doesn't expect to find her in that position. Penelope has practically fainted on the cot, her brown hair completely covers her face, the orange jumpsuit doesn't hide her forms. But what strikes him the most is the right arm, abandoned, as lifeless, the fingers of the hand that almost touch the floor tiles... and a red spot that is slowly spreading out beneath it.

Not even the time to think about it, he has already put the key in the lock and is going behind the bars. The finger on the neck to feel a pulse, how many times he has done it since he works for the good guys, but never has he felt so apprehensive, never wanted to feel at least a minimum heartbeat, something that indicates that she is still on this earth. And luckily there is.

-Penelope, Penelope, wake up!- how it's possible that no one have noticed it? It is useless for him to wondering this, he knows. She is worth nothing, in here. Her death means less taxpayers' money to spend and work to guarantee her a correct standard of living. While wrapping the handkerchief around the girl's wrist, stopping the blood flow, Luke wonders if the reason for this extreme gesture is to be found in something that she had already inside her, or if they have accelerated the times and she has been already subjected to the infamous test... But he can't even manage to conceive it, so he drives away the thought, focusing only on simply actions. He went at the first aid course, but right now he seems to have forgotten everything.

The girl opens her eyes, blinks several times, trying to focus on him. -Luke...- she whispers. A solitary tear begins its crossing until it lands on his arm. -Why...- it should be him the one who has to ask her such a question, but he can understand what she means. Why didn't you let me die?

He's almost tempted to reveal everything, Hotch's plan to convince her to join the FBI, how he was recruited in this, but he miraculously manages to hold back. -The animals need you, Penelope.- instead, he tells her this, one hand on the wound, the other strokes her hair. -I have to take you to the infirmary.- he warns her, immediately catching the fear in her brown eyes. -Don't worry, I got you. Can you walk?- a stupid question. He doesn't wait for the answer and picks her up, carrying her on the white bed. While he is still talking, he doesn't even know that the sound of his voice is able to calm her down. -Why you did it, Penelope? This wasn't in your profile. You can act as tough as you want, but I understood you're not a goth, you're full of hopes and colors. Do not try to be what you are not, because you will not be able to do it.- he says, applying the bandage and admiring the result. -Why you did it?- he asks her again.

-I didn't do it knowingly, it happened and... I simply didn't do anything to stop it. To fix things. I thought...- both the voice and the gaze falter. -I thought it was not worth it. That the fate had decided in my place.- once the cap was removed, everything pours out without any brakes. -In the bottom I don't want to live in a world where most people believe that animals are born to be exploited and killed, that an alternative is not even thinkable. In a world where fakes win, where if you stay at home reading a book you're a loser, if you show that you love a person, you're weak. I don't want to be part of it anymore, I don't want to, I don't want to, I don't want to.- it's an endless chant. The girl even begins to sway, until he stops her, holding her by the shoulders.

Often you would like a pair of wings, often the most trivial things, often you hug your stars or often... the skin limits you...

-That incident wasn't your fault...- Luke understands that what she said is true, but that the real issue is still another. This doesn't concerns him, however, and her expression remembers this to him.

-Just because did you read a few sentences in a file, do you think you know me and can judge me? I'm not just a name or four words, and if I can't be something else, then maybe it's really better to die.- in what she says there is all her love for life that she feels forced to disown by a dark force; only those who have loved immensely can get to hate so much. -There is no only one reason in the world or one person for whom it is worth continuing this torment.- while listening to her, always holding her in a sort of strange hug, he finds himself wishing to become that someone.

What's the point of all this? I've only known her for three days.

He has to bring her back to her special cell, before anyone realizes she's not here and starts asking too many questions. He must also make sure that nobody takes advantage of her, at the risk of saying that... she is his now.

 Two more days have passed, yet she hasn't even noticed it. The only contacts she had with other human beings were the moments when they brought her meals. However, she didn't eat anything. Since he found her with a hurt wrist, Luke didn't show up anymore. Surely, he also understood that she wasn't worth the effort even of a look.

She can't understand why they slammed her into a solitary confinement. Of course, she's a dangerous hacker, probably among the worst, but she hasn't killed anyone. She repeatedly meditates on removing the bandage to resume work where she was interrupted, but then renounces. It is too long and painful. She is not able to do it again consciously.

She's a weak all the way. But who chooses to put an end on this, is strong for the courage it takes, or is it more the one who, despite everything, decide to stay and fight?

She needs something to implement her plan.

 Luke enters without thinking in the least about what could happen. He is concerned. In the last two days, he did nothing but think of the prisoner 435228, Penelope. Every time he closes his eyes, he visualizes her forms with extreme precision and he seems to be able to concretely touch her. But it's not just this. If it were simply sexual desire, he wouldn't be so much anxious.

The problem is far more serious. The problem is that he imagined things he didn't think capable of. Things that he doesn't even want to repeat in his head. Children. Children with light skin but dark hair and those eyes, those eyes so deep and full of pain. He never wanted to become a father. Why force a poor creature to extricate itself in such a complex world?

But his perfectly rational convictions don't cancel those crazy thoughts or dreams he has made, so absurd and inexplicable.

Yet, he is still here, a few inches from the girl. Stay away from here has been unbearable, but he will have to get used to it, because she will not stay here. The feds will find a way to force her to join them. They have the good means. Or they will take her anyway away from there. So the best thing is that he checks if everything is fine, that the bandage is clean, otherwise he will have to change it and then leave. He still has to resist so little time.

They look into each other's eyes for a few seconds. -How are you, Penelope?- he tries to read the answer from the way she bends her lips. -Do you feel better?- he takes another step in her direction. Of course, he doesn't expect her to do the same and so he feels her scent, her natural smell that shouldn't be so good, not after living in a damn cell, penetrating through his nostrils and confusing his mind even more.

-Luke.- here, she did it. She called him by name. The strange tone, which she had never used before. But the surprises have just begun. Without understanding how, he finds himself against one of the cold walls. The body of the young woman press on his, the breasts... and then her lips. And her tongue. Her moans. Who knows if the room is really soundproof, as they told him? Even if it is not, he can’t her stop or stop himself. His big hands wander from her face, neck, shoulders, even if he would definitely want more. -Do you want me, Luke?- asks Penelope, almost not breaking away from him. The seductive and mischievous voice sends the blood directly in a single point. Or maybe it's because she repeated her name. -If you want me, Luke, you can have me.- she continues to provoke him, caressing his bare skin; her hands feel less problems during the exploration.

He can perfectly visualize her beneath him, while she moans seriously, shouting Luke out loud. But it's wrong. She is still part of a mission. He can’t sympathize with prisoners, less than ever with her. It goes against the one he always believed in, in which his father always believed. Never a single call. Always the best in all the tests. What would he say now of what he has become? Forced to work in prison and infatuated with a "criminal". -Yes, I want you.- he admits bitterly. -But...- she stops him placing a finger on his mouth.

-I want you to be the first one.-

 She enters the cell again with one hand behind her back, but she still manages to hear a strange clink. On his face he has a kind of smile. Maybe she should have a little fear, but she asked for it. -Go, 435228, the time has come to make a nice ride.- the arrogant tone annoys her above all because she remembers that even if now he is not serious with her, with her other "colleagues" he could being and... the thought makes her jealous. Stupid.

-What are those?- now he has revealed the mystery. Handcuffs. Her eyes widen as she peers at the reflecting surface. He admires her ingenuity, her amazement and above all her candor. He winks at her and before she realizes it, he is behind her, something makes a metallic noise and she is no longer able to move her arms. -Why?- she asks with her surrender tone that excites him to death.

-Because you are still the prisoner and I am the guard.- he clarifies whispering softly, in her ear, after having moved a lock of brown hair. Goosebumps. He doesn’t know if she's really ready for it, but by now it's too late, the mechanism is started, the game started and will not end until "game over" appears on the screen. Pushing her with one hand on her back he lets her out, and then close the bars of the now empty cell.

He chose the perfect moment when they are all busy with their lunch break. Nobody will notice her absence, she hasn’t even a friend. Because she is different, it's not like them. He told her one of these days. It seems centuries have passed and instead it’s not even a week that he met her. And she offered herself to him. At first it was just a gimmick to distract him and get something to help her leave this world. Then, gradually, the farce became real, as well as his muscles pressed against her chest, his tongue in her mouth and the need to find out what else he could do, it became too pressing.

He leads her across the gray corridor, then through an unknown area and then stops in front of a door. When he opens it and pushes her inside, Penelope realizes that it is a closet. Dirty, dusty, extremely reduced. Certainly not the location that a teenager would have imagined would become the background of...

Luke wastes no time. Once having prevented access to anyone, turning the keys repeatedly in the lock, he reaches and presses her against the wall, the only side not overgrown with boxes, brooms and various tools. The mouth is molded with that of the woman, who begins to moan when she feels his tongue at the same time making its way into her palate and his hand resting on her breast and then squeezing a nipple through the fabric. The pleasant torture continues for a time that seems endless to her.

-How... how will you do it this way?- she asks him when he allows her to catch her breath.

-Don’t worry.- he smiles convinced. -I know my tricks.- and perhaps the shocked expression of Penelope is due more to the fact that this sentence for her is tantamount to an admission by him that she is not the first prisoner that he brings here with such intentions, rather than for the next gesture of man. The orange t-shirt is divided into two perfect halves and the busty breasts of the brunette, without any constraint that holds them back, come out into the open, exposing themselves to Luke's eager look. -But... it was my uniform!- is a weak protest and she is aware of it.

His hands are particularly cold and her nipples get more and more numb, until he bends down to take them in his mouth and suck, almost hoping to see them come out of the milk, then stay a few seconds with his head between the two promoters, a relaxed expression that had not visited his face since who knows how long . -Don't worry, there are a lot...- he replies with a certain delay, still too distracted. -I'll bring you another one.- he reassures her continuing to play with this part of her, never satiated. -This was still old, and it stank.- restrain herself is increasingly difficult, every gesture of Luke seems perfectly calibrated and goes to touch the right points in the correct sequence. Penelope fears she might have an orgasm sooner than expected. -These pants don’t do you justice.- he comments at a certain point, after having pricked her for a few more minutes, rubbing her against the wall and having fun moving his hands and tongue in sync, entering her mouth just when he pinches the tip of a breast and enjoying the way in which the girl's eyes open and close for ecstasy of pleasure. Penelope didn’t know what to expect as she doesn’t know if she should be grateful that he didn’t immediately go straight to the point. These preliminaries, however, are killing her. He comes off and starts to take her pants down. She strives in all ways not to think, doesn’t allow his brain to work. She knows that her breasts attract many male looks, but she doesn’t consider her lower half at the same level. But he doesn’t seem to agree with her, because he doesn’t utter a disgusted cry, nor does he stop torturing her. She closes her eyes as his cold hands run along her legs, the skin behind her knee, her thighs, her ass and then... some fingers move forward. They exceed the elastic of the panties. She holds more than a moan, even for the difference in heat. And then he stops. This time, his eyes are wide open and incredulous. He pulls out his fingers and stares them. -You... you're virgin!- strangely Penelope keeps her eyes proud and nods.

-Yes, why, is this also a crime?- it is the first time she reacts to his provocation, which she acts in this way. Luke still can’t believe the information he has just acquired. -I only twenty-two years.- the idea that no man had her before him, excites him even more, makes him feel as if she were really only his, as if she had waited on purpose... but at the same time he also feels the weight of this responsibility.

-But... that ex-boyfriend of which you spoke to me... I thought...- he seems to be lost.

-No.- she exclaims with firm tone. -I was in love with him- she confesses -but I always felt that something was wrong, so I denied to him this part of me.- she simply ends with a shrug that rocks her breast still naked.

-Do you want to lose your virginity... with me?- why instead of asking it, he does not do it, before she changes her mind? But he is not the macho she believes he is, and he is forced to tell her. -I’m not that kind of man.- a phrase that seems strange, absurd, crazy, even to his own ears. He wasn’t this before he met her.

-I'm not usually that kind of woman either.- and she has the fact of being inviolate on her side. -Yes, I want to lose it with you, why not?- he has the decency not to answer. -Before I die, I want to find out if I really missed something in all these years or I was right.- just for a moment, Luke's excitement cools. It is a phrase that is often used as an example, without being conscious of its weight, a way of saying, but she has said it differently. He senses something black beneath the surface but decides to ignore it.

-Looks, it also depends on who you're doing with...- but it's a losing battle.

She tries to get away. She is wounded, she feels rejected. -Do you want to do it? If you don’t want it, give me a shirt and leave me alone.- how far she is from the reality! He doesn’t reply anything but shakes his head and silences her by placing a finger on her lips, the same one that a second ago was inside her. Then he bends down, takes off her shoes and pants, and for last those pink panties that would catch his eye even if he didn’t want to. She is left wearing only that torn shirt, and yet she is not cold, because she trembles with anxiety and doesn’t know if she wants to die yet. Luke pulls himself up again and smiles at her, almost a sweet smile.

-Because that it's the first time, this may hurt a little.- he explains in a calm tone, while the hands, no longer so cold, return to take care of her lower half. -We need to lubricate the area a little, to facilitate the operation.- the way he talks, if possible, drives her more crazy. The fingers are no longer uncertain, they perform precise turns, various lunges that snatch out of her mouth moans of pleasure. He plays with her clit and by the way the girl looks at him, he gets confirmation that this is really her first experience and that the damn who had driven her to be arrested to get rid of him, hadn’t had the least privilege to really touch her body.

But he had certainly touched her heart and soul. Thinking about this irritates him and for this he pushes a little too rude, to which she responds with a lament of pain. He stops and looks at her. If she asked him to stop, if she told him she changed her mind... he would be able to respect her will. But she doesn’t seem to waver in her purpose, so after a second, he starts again.

-Right because it will hurt, you may scream a little too loud. I'll have to stop you, so the whole prison won't able to hear us, okay?- she doesn’t nod but blinks her eyelids once and stares at him as his fingers continue to do their job. It's not so bad, Penelope thinks, while he takes off his shoes and pants while remaining in boxers. A protuberance greets her. She has never seen a naked man before. She doesn’t want to feel embarrassed or strange about it. But it's really hard to believe that the swelling is all due to her. Luke also removes that garment. They are both covered only in the upper half, from the waist up and this should make the whole situation already unreal.

Still, the closet seems less small, less dirty, less dusty, less ugly. Perhaps the boundaries disappear, perhaps it all disappears, when he makes her lie down on a sort of cot that she hadn’t noticed before. He opens the handcuffs to leave locked just one hand, which he fixes in the edge. He spreads her legs and crouches near her aperture. Ready? he asks her with his eyes, without speaking, then holding her he gives the first push, penetrating the first part of her, the one where his fingers have already been. When he feels he is projected in the right direction, he lies down in turn. He still looks at her, but no sign from Penelope seems to indicate that she has changed her mind. Luke sighs and gives a second push, followed by a third one.

At first she doesn’t feel nothing, then a huge burning, so almost as if someone would tearing her apart. The cry of pain of Penelope, which doesn’t sound very like a moan, is muffled by the great hand of man, pressed on her mouth. He doesn’t stop, although her pupils dance from side to side, and he feel the girl's lips move, trying to say something. Enough, I changed my mind, I don’t want it anymore. Enough, enough, go out, get away from me, stop! Even a few tears flow down her cheeks, but Luke keeps moving back and forth, every time he comes out, he seems to take the urge to penetrate even deeper and slowly, very slowly, the pleasure replaces the suffering, she feels completely filled by him, who begins to kiss her by going in sync with his pushes. Penelope follows him, the tears now dry on the lashes, a small crimson stain underneath that she ignores.

Sometimes he lets her moan but is forced to absorb the strongest moan, both his own and hers, when they reach their full enjoyment, and he empties into her cavity without the slightest regret.

 This was also quite predictable. Penelope no longer wanted to meet him, after what happened, although she was the one who proposed it. Just as it was obvious that he would end up seeing it with his own guilt.

Now Luke is waiting to finally see the elusive agent Aaron Hotchner and his subordinate, in charge of convincing her to agree to join the FBI and consequently take her away from him. But maybe it's better this way. If he will not see her anymore, the obsession will lessen. Shouldn’t he already be grateful enough to have been her first time? In a shabby closet, wearing handcuffs. Everybody dream something like that.

He understands that it's all bullshit. Maybe it works in any booklet or in a film of little cultural value, but not with him. Even if he is deeply mistaken, must he tell her what he really feels for her, without expecting anything in return, without demanding... to demand what? What he did was wrong in all respects.

For the umpteenth, last time, he enters that cell.

-What are you doing here, Luke? I asked you to leave me alone!- he notices with a sigh of relief that she hasn’t hurt herself again. At least that. He approaches, she moves back and ends up against the wall.

-I know, but I need to tell you something. I'm not very good at declarations, so I'll tell you what I feel. Yesterday it wasn’t just sex. It was also my first time, because before then, I just had sex. We made love, Penelope. I'm fucking in love with you, I think of you obsessively, I know it's wrong, but it's not enough to stop me. I don’t just dream about erotic things, ok? Even the rest...- she doesn’t understand, is confused, and the way he talks about himself, almost sobbing, certainly doesn’t help.

And I will love you more than any tomorrow, more than any other of what you thought...

-But a prisoner and a guard can’t fraternize.- that's all she can say.

-This will not be a problem anymore.- Penelope widens her pupils as she listens to his story. -Agent Hotchner and a certain Morgan are coming, they will try to convince you to join the BAU. There will be no document or proof that you were here... my job was to keep an eye on you this week, to prevent that something could happening to you... to keep you safe for them. They don’t intend to give up on you.- the hand hits as fast as the tongue of a reptile, the attack of a snake. Five red fingers on his cheek. Luke doesn’t react.

-So it was all a joke! And was this last confession too? Congratulations, Luke, why don’t you sign up for drama academy? You are a sublime actor.- the tears flowing on her cheeks are of anger and disappointment.

-No, there was nothing fake. I really fell in love with you, no one asked me to pretend it... I just had to protect you, but I failed, I wasn’t able to protect you from myself. I'm sorry, but believe me, it wasn’t fake.- she shakes her head.

-I... I don’t really know what to think.- they are disrupted. It's time for Penelope to decide her destiny.

 Months have passed, yet the obsession hasn’t vanished at all, hasn’t diminished. There were a thousand other prisoners, no one keeps him up like her. Luke is now resigned to a gray life, a boringly quiet routine. He doesn’t expect that call, as he didn’t expect the one from Rossi.

He doesn’t expect that job, that sudden offer.

Joinining the Behavioral Analyst Unit.

The only thing they can tell him is that someone has pressured. Someone managed to find proof of his innocence. All the problems vanished, all forgotten. Reintegrated with honor, father is proud of you.

He didn’t expect it, but he should have understood that behind it was her hand .

-Penelope.- as the first time and like all the others, the girl's name sounds like music through his lips.

-Luke.- she says. They are alone. It was she who asked the rest of the team to leave her for a moment with the Newbie. She didn’t want to give other explanations.

-Why?- he simply ask, the voice broken with various sweet nuances.

-Because it’s right. I read your file. You're perfect for this team. And you didn’t deserve to stay in that place.- she doesn’t add anything else, but he knows he understood. There are things you can’t hide, there are some things I can’t cry about you...

-Well... thanks. You didn’t have to do it.- these are phrases of circumstance, but through their mouths they take on a different meaning. She nods and puts a hand on her hip. At that moment he notices some different details in her. She changed her hair color. Now she is blonde. How it's possible he had need all this time to notice it? Overall, she's radiant, she looks like another person. Surely one that no longer needs his support. So why come here, help him? Just to return a favor? He must have been a superlative lover, in this case, because he didn’t feel he had really done any good for her, in fact. And her breast... yes, it definitely got bigger and looks even harder. In that first, one night, he didn’t have the chance to do everything he wanted... how long he wanted to reach out and... no, not here! Nowhere, in fact.

Penelope seems about to say something but gets stuck and runs to the sink. She vomits. Luke don’t need anything else.

I don’t care now to pretend, you can read my eyes...

-You're pregnant.- it's not a question. She cleans her face and turns to face him. How can he claim to know it's his baby? It's been weeks. She may have found another one. Maybe a blond and pale boyfriend like her waiting at home. Maybe the asshole from which she had escaped. Maybe she gave him another chance. Still, he feels it's his. He feels it with the hairs of his arms, in the way she looks at him.

-It is not a problem that concerns you.- she completely changes attitude, puts her hand on her stomach, in protective way, but the voice falters, trembles. She never told him she loves him. And yet, he know this too. Luke decides that their "relationship" has been strange from the beginning, so he doesn’t see why now it should be otherwise. He puts his arm around her waist and draws her close to him, caresses her cheek with his other hand.

-Don’t be afraid of me, Penelope. Don’t be afraid of the future or at least allow me to have fear with you.- he moves his hand on her stomach, intertwine their fingers and this time it is the girl's turn to understand. -I would grow up with you this baby even if it wasn’t mine... but I know it is...- those tears in the corners of his intense eyes are the final proof that he is telling the truth.

-Luke, you don’t have to do it. I don’t want to condemn you to a life you don’t want, just because I haven’t been able to keep my legs closed.- he would almost give her a slap, for the absurdity that she said. Instead he merely shakes his head.

-It's not a question of honor. What grows inside you is the labor of love. It was only very bizarre the path we have had to do to get to conceive it.- he smiles, everything fades into that.

I wish I could lose, without ever having to give up...

She puts her lips on his and for the first time in more than a year she feels really safe. She releases all the tension and surrenders to that unwanted feeling, but never disowned. Without more fear.

But the mistake doesn’t exist... fear doesn’t exist . Fear, fear, fear doesn’t exist

TAGS: @theshamelessmanatee  @arses21434 @kathy5654 @martinab26 @reidskitty13 @jenf42 @gracieeelizabeth27 @silviajajaja @smalliemichelle99 @charchampagne14 @thinitta   @myhollyhanna23 @garvezz @mercedes-maldonado  @shyladystudentfan

[drsallygrissom]

Why We Love ars PARADOXICA

Back in 2016, the fandom made a list of 43 reasons why we love ars PARADOXICA in honor of the 73rd anniversary of Dr. Sally Grissom’s first audio diary on October 29, 1943. When I learned that the podcast was going to end after its third season, I decided to pull together another list that was double the length of the first. 

However, the fandom was so passionate that we blew past our goal, and reached triple the length of the original list!

Without further ado, here are the 129 of the reasons why we love ars PARADOXICA:

Helen Partridge, my beautiful, beautiful wife

I just love Kristen’s laugh and it never fails to make me smile.

Mischa’s outros! “Brought to you by the internet:” 

The TimeSwimmers episode. That whole thing was a masterpiece

Sally and Nikhil's friendship

Petra, my sassy troubled daughter

The effort that went into making such a truly unique and ambitious take on time travel-based fiction

Sally, my favorite disaster ace

All of the characters are just so beautifully flawed in their own ways and are so well depicted it’s hard to pick a favorite

Every episode makes me feel SO MANY EMOTIONS

The sound effects are just so well done that I feel like I’m right there with the characters

The subtle yet mind blowing foreshadowing

The way it endlessly inspires me to create fan content

The decryption team, who I don't understand yet love to watch unravel codes

The ability to make us both love and hate a character at the same time as much as we do Esther Roberts.

Jack Wyatt

The sass, and in general wonderful interactions with the fan base on social media.

The schoolyard brawl!

Very obviously not being afraid to have fun with ads/sponsored content.

Actually making me want to listen to the version with ads even though I'm a patron

Buttsticks…

Plasticity

The outro music is simple but so, so good

Lemon drops and Limestone

My curiosity about what Esther wrote in the letter

Golden boi and his devils lettuce

With three episodes left it felt like there was so much story left to be told and such little time to tell it

The generosity to keep us entertained between seasons

The subtle symbolism of Esther's mind being represented with card games

The heart-wrenching ups and downs of Esther and Bridget's relationship

Esther and Sally’s lesbian/aroace solidarity

Bridget, my mom

Sally's #relatable ace anxieties and Nikhil's comforting response

The super cool theme song by Mischa "i do not play piano" Stanton which they apparently HEARD IN A DREAM?!

The found footage pieces between scenes

The amount of detail put into it, and being able to notice new things on each relisten

Easter eggs like QDAM

Seemingly infinite pop culture references

The commitment to posting a transcript for each episode

The GOLDEN BOY smokes the devil’s lettuce?!

The Super LUminal Recursive Processor

All of the machine code names really

Mischa’s wonderful sound design that makes me feel like I’m actually in the location the episode takes place at and made me realize how wonderful podcasts could truly be.

Sally Grissom. The wonderful disaster ace and the first ace rep I ever found.

The sound design of the show, especially the tapes adding to world building, all those clunky sounds.

Sally Grissom, ‘I wonder what would happen if I...’, Mad scientist.

This show has the most complex, humanistic portrayal of aromanticism I’ve ever experienced

I appreciate the aP creators’ dedication to nuanced portrayal of and discussion about violence

All of Curses, of fucking course

Keeping the humanity of people who do bad thing while not trying to justify them

Their commitment to “all killer, no filler”

Reminding me that science is cool, dammit!

Petra is a lovely and nuanced, complex character that I adore with my whole heart and soul.

[BLUE BLUE 09 13 18 15 26 08 04 12 20 24 05 18 14 09 17 04 05 12 01 05 The weather in Tulsa today is: Drought. At the tone, the time will be: 5400 hours]

The creators are so so fantastic and fun! I love that they interact with fans.

Sally is the disaster stoner physicist we all need in our lives. also she’s relatable as hell

The show is not afraid to tackle issues like race, gender, or sexuality and it doesn’t overstep its bounds.

The codes are so fun (even if I don’t understand all of them)!

I love how excited scientists get when they’ve discovered something-it feels like real scientists I know

How Bridget criticizes Sally for making puns under pressure even though she does exactly the same thing

The way characters interact with one another, and grow, and learn, and develop is so fascinating and beautiful.

Plasticity might have been the first podcast episode to make me cry.

I love Sally “I only know anecdotal biology and chemistry” Grissom and how her science knowledge actually makes sense??

As a huge huge physics nerd and aspiring computer scientist, I love love love the way Sally talks about science! It’s like Kristen DiMercurio is narrating my inner monologue!

The thrill of trying to keep up with the diverging timelines

☭S̶͜͞ ̀͜҉̀͢Í͠ ̸̸͟҉X̵͘͢ ̢T̷̶͞ ̢̨͟Y̧̛͘ ̨͟͢ ̴̨͜҉S̷̶͢ ̴͝Í͢͟ ҉̢̛͝X̕͝͝☭

The consideration and dedication shown in not only writing an aro-spec ace character, but addressing issues and worries often faced by people in that community.

The mind-boggling task of trying to piece together everything that’s happening when for all we know every scene could be from a different, rewritten version of the timeline.

Anthony Partridge, the most melodramatic math nerd to ever play Tetris in a bubble outside of time.

The optimism of the show and ultimate faith it shows in both science and humanity, despite all the characters’ failings.

Sally giggling over meeting her future self both times that it happens

Sally’s book (and her attempts at pronouncing NaNoWriMo).

Maggie Elbourne, because as much as I love all my the more morally ambiguous scientists it’s nice to see one who actually stood up to ODAR’s shenanigans almost as soon as she figured out what was up.

Everything about the road trip.

TimeSwimmers was already mentioned but specifically TIME DOLPHIN RYAN LOCHTE

Characters that grow and change and learn

The 77s getting name dropped in Plasticity, way before we knew who they were

Sally calling out the English language for being problematic (“oh, you mean like morally upstanding?”)

“The weather in Tulsa today is: uhh I dunno”.

It has been quite possibly the most human exploration of time travel I’ve ever seen/heard.

Reaching a happy ending I couldn't even imagine

The weather in Tulsa is: sppoookyyy

The ever changing ways the codes were presented in season 3. Giving the feeling that the anchorites were both on the run and broadcasting these messages from different points in time.

Sally’s ace representation is the best I’ve ever seen and it makes me feel so #valid.

The sound design and detail in the writing make me feel like I’m truly immersed in the story, and it feels so authentic. Are you sure you don’t secretly have a timepiece?

The characters are people I CARE about and wanted to cry over during work all the time because they’re all wonderful and I love them.

The integration of the different storylines into Sally’s, especially Petra’s, is amazing.

Petra’s characterization was really well done, and it made me really care about her, even as she was trying to more or less destroy the world.

Out-of-date pop culture references that fit seamlessly into the dialogue despite being from literally a different time period and most of the characters having no idea what it meant. They just added an extra level of hilarious.

You may not actually know a single thing about tachyon fields and gluon walls (are they even real?) but you could definitely convince me that you know exactly what you’re talking about (or at least that Sally Grissom does).

The enDING WAS JUST REALLY WELL DONE AND I LOVE A GOOD CIRCULAR ENDING AND IT MADE ME GENUINELY GO TO THE BATHROOM DURING WORK TO CRY BECAUSE IT WAS JUST BEAUTIFUL.

The fact that the whole show is wrapped up by the revelation that the entire show is actually Nikhil and Mateo curling up with board games and snacks trying to form a story out of these tapes, patching together timelines to make it all cohesive, it just feels very right.

This story fits the medium so well, and so the fact that we don’t learn that Whickman has an EYEPATCH is absolutely wild but also wonderful because as soon as I heard that I knew that that was how it belonged, like of course he has an eyepatch, that’s a very Chet thing to have.

The ending was so perfectly, painfully beautiful. It was the ending we needed but never would have imagined.

Petra’s and Sally’s relationship being so complex and real.

Nikhil and Mateo using the archive to create the framing device for the whole podcast.

The sound the timepiece makes.

The final destruction of the timepiece.

Putting time travel in a Cold War setting makes perfect sense, and they go together like peanut butter and chocolate.

Did anyone mention Helen Partridge as a character? How beautifully she was set up and the fact that she pursued her own her life, and also, how BEAUTIFULLY Susanna Kavee can sing? Because damn.

I just. Really love this show. And everyone involved. So much.

The child characters were really well done-both the actors and the writing felt real.

To me, the show feels a bit like one of those camp friendship bracelets everyone used to make, with all these colors and threads--all of the timelines, woven together, messy but beautiful.

TEETRIS

Grissom’s Gizmo Gals!

Mateo’s non-stop flirting, even in the worst of situations

Sally “It’s Dr Grissom”ed HERSELF.

The way both the story and the characters reflect a complex view on the world with people making horrible decisions and horrible things happening to them, and yet always maintaining a positive outlook, offering the possibility of change and improvement.

The top-notch voice acting from everyone involved, helping to create the wonderful characters we all love.

Sally finger-gunning her way out of a conversation with a pun about a friend almost killing her.

All the minisodes!!

Any time Bridget, Nikhil or Lou acts like they want to adopt Petra

The series ending with two characters who had been at odds coming together

The characterization of the different Petras, because they all seem like different people even though  in fact they are not (and Sylvia deciding she doesn't want to follow the legacy of Petras)

How Kristen can play 2 of the same character and make them sound different (how does she do that???)

Anthony’s will to save everyone, sacrificing himself, when the world didn't do anything good for him…

... and the constant struggle to save his friends (like when he was literally the only one aware of the Anchorites and the way their plan could have ended)

The way the show can go from time travel shenanigans to heartfelt character moments is a real testament to the talent of the writing team.

The Vegas episode, which I listened to after the finale and cried, because they were so happy and naive and everything wasn’t messy and bad and complicated.

The way gun violence is handled by the creators with respect and care

The way PTSD and mental health is handled (through Sally) is beautiful and respectful.

Partridge being named after a bird and living out his life in a cage. YOU GUYS ARE MEAN

Susanna Kavee’s absolutely amazing singing and Tau Zaman’s lyrics are an absolutely combination.

The ceaseless, unwavering commitment to puns

I love how important their friendships are to the characters (well, most of them anyways).

Sally’s conversation with Nikhil in season 3 reflects a lot of common anxieties of aromantic people, and his understanding responses

The entirety of the trial episode, which just really sort of showed the full extent of how terrible the Red Scare was by putting Esther, a Jewish woman, through it, and just shows you how defamed people in that time were.

In so many of the fictional and non-fictional representations of history, marginalized people have diminished, distorted, and stereotypical roles-but not in ars PARADOXICA. Thank you for making so many people feel seen.

All the amazing writers who started it all. 💜

Here are the signatures of some of the fans who contributed: 

Signatures

Lindsay (ioniluna/drsallygrissom)

Khanan Abayev

SJ (your friendly neighborhood slauthor)

Dave (mondas-mania)

Noah (kindadisappointed)

Sana (i-am-delta-s)

Tina (espressonist)

Meaghan (lafgl)

Katherine (Rubywolfsbane)

Artimis (jp-blindperson/ap-blindperson)

Luke (martianboyy)

Ellie (joan-and-jane-and-esther-roberts/shewrites)

Bridge (cornerandchair)

Lem (aceparadoxica)

Esme (starsparadoxica)

Glory (mercutiglo)

Carly (guardianbob)

Emese (mse)

Ben (Q)

Special thanks to the ars PARADOXICA discord for being so helpful! From the time it was just a dozen people with a spork in a shoebox, this community was a shining star that helped me through tough times. Thank you for your silliness, cleverness, and support.

Brought to you by the internet: It’s weird! It’s fun! It loves you very, very much!

[irigoddess]

Incomplete Kyuzo/Phatrong Masterpost

Apparently this post didn’t work once I changed URLs so... yeah. Here you go. 

Kyuzoni biology:

The Kyuzo are an omnivorous reptilian species; while they are reptilian, they are warm blooded and do not lay eggs. They evolved this way because of the sometimes violent weather on Phatrong. It turned out that the weather was not suitable for eggs - thus they evolved to give birth…even if the process is awkward and painful.

Kyuzo skin is rough, but not scaly like Trandoshans. Skin colors can range anywhere from green, to yellow, to blue and in between. However, those who are purely yellow or blue have a common pigmentation disorder. Their health is not negatively affected because of this, although people might treat them differently depending on where they live.

All Phatrongi Kyuzo are born with honeycomb eyes, that can be any color. Their eyes tend to glow in the dark, and they can see in the dark better than most humanoids. (I’ll be honest, I’m not really sure where that one writer was going with when he said most Kyuzo had poor eye sight. I tend to ignore it.)

Other than having slightly wider hips, cis females are very similar to cis males. They do not have breasts or any noticeable secondary sex traits. While cis males tend to be a bit taller and wider framed, its not uncommon for cis females to have those traits, and vice versa. Intersex Kyuzo are common. Gender is very fluid among the Kyuzo, as parents tend to raise their children without a defined gender; when the child is of age, they get to decided what their gender is. Thus, being trans or nonbinary is prevalent.

The Kyuzo can be up to 7′6″ tall, with most falling in the 6′ to 6′6″ range. They tend to be a little larger than humans, body wise, but are considerably more agile.

The weakest part of the Kyuzo is their lungs; if there is too much moisture in the air, they can easily contract pneumonia. Too much oxygen in the air and they’ll suffocate. Thus the reason they wear masks off planet.  (Those who were involved with making Constable Zuvio also said that they wear bandages over their mouths but I’m still trying to figure out…..how that works exactly…)

Kyuzo, beyond that, are an incredibly hearty species that can live upward of three hundred years. After reaching sexual maturity at around young adulthood, their aging slows down. Whatever kills them before old age is usually attributed to their lungs or more physical means. They can contract other diseases, but they are usually nonfatal. Usually.

They have an amazing amount of stamina and can run at speeds that are hard for most humanoids to attain. They, unfortunately, have high pain tolerances and a hard time receiving fatigue messages to the brain, and this generally spells out problems. Kyuzos have been known to run themselves to death - literally. It’s not uncommon for families to find the bodies of missing members hundreds of miles away from where they were last seen. They have to make a very conscious effort to stop, or they won’t.

Kyuzo are much stronger than humanoids, and can jump higher. Most outsiders confuse them as force sensitives for this reason. Though Kyuzo are commonly Force-sensitive, they fight tooth and nail to keep their kids from the Jedi.

Culture:

Clothing:

Most feminine presenting Kyuzo wear headwraps/headdresses. Other than displaying wealth and covering cold heads, there isn’t much of a reason that they wear the headdresses. It’s not required, but most feminine presenting people wear them because they grew up seeing other feminine presenting people wearing them. If one is wealthy, their headdresses will tend to be large and elaborate; it’s not uncommon for one to wear a headdress that is pounds upon pounds of metals, jewels, and cloth. Poorer feminine presenting people generally just wear cloth, or nothing at all.

Kyuzoni clothing is colorful and flowy; people wear very similar clothing, no matter what gender they are. Dresses and skirts are very common, and people will generally go topless. While most colors are okay to use, there are certain colors that are not used in everyday clothing, such as purple, light blue, gold, and white; the Kyuzo place sacred meaning in some colors, so they are only supposed to be used for special events.

Phatrong’s army/police force wear loose, non-restricting clothing with a leather-like armor covering their chests. Their family’s crest is painted upon the armor, in case that the warrior is killed in action. Their clothing is trimmed in gold, which represents bravery and wisdom.

Light blue cloth, specifically headwraps or shirts, signify that a wedding is approaching. Purple is a wedding color, as it signifies prosperity and commitment; wedding clothes are trimmed with silver. White is only used for funerals or births, as it signifies both death and the innocence of new life.

Music/Art:

Music on Phatrong generally revolves around stringed instruments and percussion instruments; they don’t generally listen to music for leisure. Music is only played at festivals, and generally tells the stories of ancient heroes and gods. The Kyuzo also create dances to these story-songs, to make things more dramatic.

Art varies around Phatrong. By the oceans, it’s mostly glass-work like beads and giant stained glass windows. Those Kyuzo that live by the rivers create pottery. Richer families will paint large murals that will cover the walls of their homes. These murals tell tales of their gods, but more often than not they are used almost like photographs that capture small moments in the lives of the family. Jewelry making is also common.

Religion:

The Kyuzo believe in a polytheistic system; the most prominent goddess is Vohaoya (Vo-ha-oy-ah), the mother of the gods and creator of worlds. She represents women, fertility, life, and nature; she is described as having a mostly Kyuzoni appearance, with three eyes and four arms. Often, she is shown in art or statues sitting cross-legged, cradling Phatrong in her lap; her arms are either pointing toward the sky, or she is making gestures with her hands. Her bottom arms are often portrayed as laying flat against her legs with palms upturned - this relays openness. Her left top arm is often resting on the planet, which portrays her protective nature. And her right top arm is often pointed upward, her pointer finger curling in toward her palm while the rest of her fingers are outstretched; this is a symbol of love for the Kyuzo. Her statues are mostly made out of gold, but are painted with the likeness of galaxies; some people swear that the stars shift in the right light.

Other more minor deities include Ixpi, the goddess of peace, and her brother Echting, the god of war. Because the Kyuzo like to believe that they are a peaceful race, Echting is often described as a villain. Ixpi is described as a small, rainbow-colored being that floats rather than walks; besides being the goddess of peace, she is also a patron of happiness, sunrise, and the LGBT community on Phatrong. Echting is also the god of destruction, mayhem, and storms; he is often described as a fiery being too bright to look at. He is surrounded by lightning and is easily angered.

The Kyuzo have many other gods, but they are not nearly as important as the three mentioned above.

Legend has it that Vohaoya created the Warriors of old to protect the gods from those that wished to harm them. They were created from the rich soil, and they were considered divine beings. In the modern era of Phatrong, it is still considered one of the highest honors to be a Warrior.

General cultural headcanons:

The Kyuzo tend to live in large villages or the few small cities around the planet; those who are born into the more obscure villages often never leave the villages.

Villages are generally comprised of thousands of people, all of which are extended family members. Separate families can have more than twenty-five members, all living in one house. Villagers take turns tending to the communal farm, which produces most of their food and fibers for clothing; to supplement the farm, they also forage, hunt, and fish.

Village born Kyuzo are very secluded, only working with neighboring villages to marry off their children. Because of their seclusion, they are the more suspicious and less educated than their city counterparts. Knowledge is passed down through the generations as those born in the villages don’t have access to teachers. At most, they know Kyuzoni and basic math: they are instead taught more practical skills, like sewing, cooking, cleaning, and animal husbandry.

There are two ‘real’ cities on Phatrong, Shutalo and Shouji; Shutalo (Shoo-tah-loh) is the capital city, to the north. Shouji (Show-zhee) is a large industrial city in the southern hemisphere. Any outside trade is limited to these two areas.

Kyuzo that live in the city tend to have smaller families, with about six members at the most. The Kyuzo in the cities have actual jobs, but they don’t make money; they are given items of use instead. (Think of bartering, almost. If they work at a textile store, they are given cloth, which can then be traded for food, etc.) Villages that have produced too much food or are in need of other items will sell food to the city folk.

City Kyuzo have better access to education, although it’s still not the best in the galaxy. Most city Kyuzo learn things like writing, higher levels of math, and an objective look on the planet’s history. Kyuzo that wish to learn beyond that must travel off planet.

It’s extremely difficult for Kyuzos to speak Basic, just because Kyuzoni and Basic are so different. It can take years and years just to get the verbal language down, and that doesn’t count how long it takes for them to learn to read Aurebesh. If the Kyuzo do manage to figure out how to speak Basic, they have thick accents that are often hard to understand, thus making them vulnerable to mockery.

Politics on Phatrong are strange as the government actually doesn’t do much. The senate, located in Shutalo, is a group of Kyuzo (and a few Kataline) from various villages and cities that are there to set basic laws so that they can have a seat in the Council of Neutral Systems. Really, the various villages will set their own rules, and as long as it doesn’t interfere with the senate, they’re generally alright with it. (A law would include: Murder is punishable by death. But their definition of murder is loose and up to interpretation.)

Kyuzo children (generally young men but it’s not limited to males) learn to fight from the moment they can understand. The Kyuzo, although a generally ‘peaceful’ race, train their children to become a quasi-army/police force. The most promising fighters are then shipped off to various academies around Phatrong to train with masters to hone their skills. Many children, as a result of poor quality of life at the academies and dangerous fighting practices, end up dying. It is rare that the academies are punished. The children that make it then must complete a three-year stint as an active warrior; those who passed but are not necessarily promising are sent to protect sacred temples. Those who show a certain level of finesse can continue to climb the ranks until they are high-ranking military officials. They act more like a police force than a military, but they have the training just in case.

Kyuzo children are often promised to each other at birth; throughout their childhoods, they get to meet and connect with their betrothed. They generally marry at eighteen, with a week-long festival preceding it. Wives are considered sacred embodiments of the Goddess Vohaoya, and are limited to bearing five children; superstition says that having too many children will thin out the wife’s existence. Daughters are vitally important to carry on their mother’s bloodline.

Because Kyuzo value large family, a husband will take a wetzandi as well; a wetzandi, or birth maid, is a younger woman who births the rest of a man’s children. A wetzandi is someone who is generally caught bedding out of wedlock, or has committed some other small crime against the goddesses. Unfortunately, they are not valued by most, and are treated as little more than breeding stock.

[tearasshouse]

Mostly vidya ramblings pt 3C

Previous post here.

Right, software time. A cursory glance at my PSN Profile will show that I’ve met my personal quota of getting the platinum in at least 10 PlayStation titles over the year, with a few PC titles sprinkled in for good measure since hey, I have access to a Windows machine again (though it’s not exactly a games machine, unless your definition of a “gaming rig” is something with a 15W Core i3 and modest laptop Radeon graphics). While I didn’t start out meaning to rank these games, I find I have a tendency to do so anyway and while I’m certainly not saying these games are outright bad, they were absolutely lower on the rung, so I’ve dubbed this part “C” (again, no disrespect to the devs or any who rate these games higher than I do; these are just my personal assessments). These are OK games.

The Darkness 2 (Steam)

Enjoyable, somewhat! I put this down like, ages ago when I picked it up for a song on PC, feeling it was too basic and uh “console shootery” at the time. Often times, having restrictions placed upon something can net great results, and hamstrung as I am by my less-capable hardware, I’ve only been picking up Steam games that could run on lower end hardware, or anything released prior to say, 2015. Surprisingly this runs at something stupid like 200 FPS on my machine with V-Sync off and all settings on High at 1080p, so go figure. Anyway, it’s a short and enjoyable shooter. I don’t know anything about the comics upon which the game(s) are based, but Jackie is a likeable character, the Darkness powers are fun enough, the locations are varied, the supporting cast surprisingly interesting and the plot was actually pretty cool too, with a major sequel hook that we’ll probably never get. 

Ori & The Blind Forest (Steam)

It sorta hovers a bit below 60fps while running at 1080p, but it’s all just a bit reductive when one spends more time looking at the framerate counter than playing a game, no? The blessing and curse of PC gaming I suppose. Anyway, as a Metroidvania the game is a bit annoying. As a piece of interactive fiction, it’s too saccharine and feels like a B-tier Dreamworks production for children which, I suppose shouldn’t be a knock against the game but I have to say --  wasn’t my cup of tea. Reminds me a bit of Child of Light by Ubisoft -- gorgeous to look at, benign if not frustrating to play (those escape sequences can piss off), and young gamers would probably find more to like in the...emotional tidbits than most adults.

Crysis 2 (Steam)

So apparently this got delisted off Steam but now it’s back up or something with EA deciding to put their back catalog on the platform or something? Anyway, like this list implies, Crysis 2 is an okay game, nothing more and nothing less. The nanosuit energy depletes a bit too quick for my liking, and you’re really made to feel like a badass only some of the times, in quick and short bursts, not unlike BJ in the new Wolfenstein games by MachineGames (any more prolonged exposure to hitscan weapons and other bullshit will quickly send you to the loading screen). Thing is, I don’t want to feel like a badass only some of the time? I mean, you put a ripped supersoldier type doing the Badass Looking Back At the Viewer Pose on the cover and I expect to be able to do certain things without stopping for a breather every 20 seconds, ya know? If you’re going to give me the power fantasy, commit to it. Or, find ways to keep the flow up and reward mastery to make players earn said fantasy (something the new DOOMs  have done and why those have been so successful). I certainly don’t envy game devs for having to balance this shit, but id Software showed you one way of how you might do that while the Crysis games and those of their ilk just feel slow and unrewarding. 

Quantum Break (Steam)

Really surprised I was able to get this running on my PC but hey, it runs on the Xbox One so how hard could it be? I dearly love Remedy’s games, even if they’re a bit straightforward at times and you get the feeling they’d rather be in the business of non-interactive fiction than games making at times. Well here is a TV show hybrid! Made exclusively in partnership with Microsoft as part of their TV & STREAMING, TV & STREAMING, SPORTS & STREAMING strategy of the 2010s. I didn’t care for the plot, nor the endless email / audiobook / loredumps scattered around, nor the characters, any of it. I will say the final stage with the super high tech offices was a delight (boy wouldn’t I love to live the corpo life in such beautiful, clean office environs). Lance Reddick was a treat as always. Peter “Littlefinger” Baelish shows up to do a thing. Yeah, it’s a Remedy joint through and through. 2019′s Control was such a highlight for me that I’ll take any kind of prototype-y take on it (and QB certainly feels like a rougher, worse version of Control, at least mechanically).

Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs / Dear Esther: Landmark Edition (Steam)

These titles were certainly...things that I installed onto my PC and sat through... Yes. Look, I’m not one to dog on walking simulators, and I know the devs have faced tough times recently but I still feel these are acquired tastes and could be appreciably improved in too many ways to name. Of the two, Dear Esther is the one I’d rec because at least that one was quite pleasant to meander around in while Amnesia left me disappointed that I’d wasted my time, physically sick with its subpar performance and muddy graphics, flaccid with its stodgy plot and left absolutely disappointed that I’d wasted my time on such a bizarre and confusing payoff towards the end. Chinese Room, I mean this in the most constructive way possible: maybe try a different type of game next time.

Return to Castle Wolfenstein (GOG)

I remember putting in some decent time into the DEMO version of RtCW’s MP mode, being amazed at the time by the particle effects, with child-me just running around the D-Day map with the flamethrower out. Anyway, years later and I finally played the SP campaign. It’s maybe better than Allied Assault’s? It feels more consistently entertaining anyway. Hell I think I like these boomer shooters better than MachineGames’ recent efforts (which isn’t saying a whole lot because I find those games just merely okay). I promise you I’m not just being a crotchety old fart.

Ys: Memories of Celceta (PS Vita)

I’d been playing through this over the spring on my Vita TV, before it bit the dust eventually and I’ve been meaning to go back and wrap up the cheevos. I was a bit lukewarm with Oath in Felghana (my first Ys), but could definitely see the appeal in the series, as boss rush games aren’t really my cup of tea (ie. it’s the journey and not the destination of say, a Souls game that is the meat for me). Definitely a game that would benefit from a 60fps refresh and cleaner graphics than what the Vita can provide. I’ve already got a copy of Ys 8 in shrink wrap and have my eyes set on emulating Ys Seven or grabbing the GOG version. A game where action is king and story or character development is secondary; I would prefer more of the latter to make this more of a JRPG and less of a “predominantly Japanese action game with superficial RPG elements”.

Catherine: Full Body (PS4)

I paid $70 for this on day one and I’ve gotta say... should’ve waited for the price drop. I’m a somewhat lapsed Atlus mark, and I still hold the original Persona 5 as my no. 1 in the PS4′s lineup (with Dragon Quest XI possibly being a tie), yet I bought this knowing it wouldn’t really be for me. Why? High difficulty in a genre I don’t play, like at all, a relatively short clear time (in itself not an issue and frankly welcome these days HOWEVER...), and a somewhat unsatisfying payoff despite being a supernatural romance thriller. I bought this as seed money for Atlus’s P.Studio/Studio Zero, in the hopes that Project Re: Fantasy will knock my socks off just like the latter day Persona games have. Because in spite of the contents not really appealing to me, it’s still supremely well made, and it’s not everyday that games like these get made, so there you go. Look, if I could go back in time and put this money towards 13 Sentinels: Aegis Rim, I probably would, but then the Catherine steelbook is ever so pretty... 

Tearaway Unfolded (PS4)

The OG game is one of the most charming little 3D platformer/collect-a-thons out there, and as far as children’s games (or er, “games that also appeal to children”) go, more of these and less of those please (your Child of Lights and Oris). I’d go as far as to say the OG version is better than the PS4 version, though the PS4 version is also quite good. Really, if I wasn’t going for that stupid Misplaced Gopher trophy, this would probably be an easy shoe-in for the B-tier list, but I place this demotion firmly at Media.Molecule’s feet. That cheevo is cursed.

The Missing: JJ Macfield and the Island of Memories (PS4)

I’d almost forgotten about this! If that doesn’t qualify for making the C-tier list then I don’t know what else does. I only know of Swery65′s qualities through osmosis, having watched the 2BF’s legendary LP of Deadly Premonition and the gone-too-soon D4: Dark Dreams Don’t Die. He’s an interesting person with interesting ideas but crucially, as a game dev, his output is just... kinda mediocre? If not outright bad? Case in point with this game. It looks and runs like garbo; it plays like garbo; the character designs are cute; the dialogue is pretty good; there is a wonderful and gradual “twist” to the main character that was super spoiled for me when people were discussing and promoting it (like, that is my bad, but also internet discourse on any kind of entertainment media is just *fucked*); there’s a lot of semi-colons in this sentence so I’ll stop here. 

And the balls to charge like, what, $40+ for the game on PSN?? I’d gotten it for way less on a sale but in a day and age when $1 could buy you 3 months of Xbox Game Pass Ultimate and MS might also throw in a curio like this in there just to fill in the gaps, it makes you wonder if these kinds of games can ever turn a profit, especially when the end product is this jank. And these are commercial goods, make no mistake, any aspirations to being an art piece or social critique notwithstanding, so that also brings to the fore the whole aspect of pricing games, relative value, production and marketing costs, blah blah.

IF you like something different, can appreciate games made on a shoestring budget with arguably bad gameplay and technical deficiencies, but has...heart? Then look no further to the output of this man. The most C-worthy of all the titles listed here. 

[rt8815]

Let It Bleed

Between writer’s block, self-consciousness, and computer troubles, this one’s taken forever to write.

Triggers: Very brief, non-descriptive mentions of hate crime.

Thanks to anyone who’s reading this mess. 1,553 words

(Pssst, if anyone’s interested in fanart-ing my story, I wouldn’t say no to that ;)

@dontshootmespence @criminal-minds-fanfiction @mainstreamqueen

October 24, 2017

McKinley checked the time on her phone: 10:50. Heather had popped in moments ago to tell her that two FBI agents would be coming by soon. They were members of something called the Behavioral Analysis Unit, which hunted serial killers, and needed help searching the archives for information that could help with their current investigation.

“Hunting serial killers? That’s no mean feat,” she thought. “It must be rewarding, putting away the bad guys. I wonder if they’d mind me asking a few questions about their work sometime; no doubt TV gets a lot wrong.”

It was only a five-minute drive from The J. Edgar Hoover Building to the museum, but that slipped McKinley’s mind as she dialed up the volume on her computer. She could shake it and play air guitar without disturbing anyone; they were all at a budget meeting. She stood, closing her eyes and tickling invisible strings in time with the music.

Well, we all need someone we can lean on

And if you want it, well you can lean on me…

McKinley practiced the chords, seeing them in her mind’s eye. She swayed her hips and twirled a bit, completely losing herself in the song.

Yeah, we all need someone we can dream on…

Yeah, we all need someone we can cream on…

Her phone now read 10:58. Not that she noticed; she was too busy pretending to be The Glimmer Twins.

We all need someone we can feed on

Yeah, and if you want it, well you can feed on me…

At this point, McKinley abandoned the guitar in favor of dancing, no doubt flopping around like a fish out of water. At least nobody was there watching her act a fool.

Yeah, we all need someone we can bleed on

Yeah, and if you want it baby, well you can bleed on me

McKinley heard neither the tapping at her office door, nor the thuds of footsteps on the thinly carpeted floor.

Yeah, we all need someone we can bleed on

Yeah, yeah, and if you want it baby, why dontcha bleed on me

All over, woo!

McKinley whipped around on the ‘woo,’ turning it into an “Argh!” when she caught a glimpse of a purple dress shirt and a dark gray suit. The man held out his hands to grab McKinley’s shoulders to steady her, accidentally brushing her right breast instead. She had gained enough momentum so that when she smacked into him face-to-chest, they tumbled to the floor, landing in a heap of tangled limbs. McKinley took in her surroundings after recovering somewhat from the landing.

“Oh no no no! Personal space, I invaded his personal space. I’m touching him. It hurts! I have to move! Everything’s happening all at once – it’s too much!”

McKinley barely registered someone saying, “You two okay?” followed by a cell phone ringing and receding footsteps. She rolled off the man, resting her elbows on her knees, hanging her head and shielding her ears. The music, previously at a reasonable volume, was suddenly pounding her eardrums. The air conditioning roared through the vents and her soft, breathable clothes felt heavy and restrictive. Her head grew hot and her chest tight. 

“Hey, are you hurt?” The man’s voice was very warm and soothing, but McKinley couldn’t speak. “Why can’t I answer?” she wondered, frustrated. “Today hasn’t been that bad. I didn’t get triggered until just now. I hate this!” He gently touched her arm in what he meant as a comforting gesture; unfortunately, it only caused her to tense up more, shrinking away from his hand. “I’m sorry,” he breathed. “Hold on.” “Wait…that voice. How do I know that voice?”

McKinley heard him lean over her desk, pause her music, and dim her lamp. He crouched back down in front of her. “I have your blanket,” he said, speaking lowly and evenly, “I’m going to wrap it around you.” The weighted blanket brought some immediate relief. “Talk when you’re ready. I just need to know if you’re all right.”

Pulling the blanket more snugly, McKinley focused on her breathing. After it leveled out, she managed a few words. “How?” She raised her head to face him. “How did you-,” she stopped short when their eyes met. “Well, that answers that question,” she thought. “It’s Spencer, from that night in the park.”

They stared, thunderstruck, not sure what to say. Spencer stood, carefully pulling McKinley up with him. “Hey,” she murmured hoarsely. They were unaware of the other agent returning to the office. Alvez glanced between them, taking in the odd scene and scrunching his brows in confusion. “Reid, Prentiss wants me back at HQ to explore another angle…Reid?” 

“Yeah, sure,” he replied, straightening his suit and walking to stand next to his colleague.

“Really quickly, introductions. I’m SSA Luke Alvez, and well,” he chuckled, “you’ve already met Dr. Spencer Reid.”

McKinley pulled herself out of her fog to respond. “A fellow PhD? Awesome,” she grinned. “Three, actually,” Spencer clarified, purely out of habit. “Iiimpressive,” she drawled, raising her eyebrows. “Pleasure to meet you both. I’m Dr. McKinley Durand, and I’m sorry but I don’t shake hands. That’s just yucky,” she shuddered. “Now, what’s this investigation of yours?”

“I’ll leave you to it, Reid. You take the SUV back, I’ll walk. Sorry to say ‘hi and bye,’ Dr. Durand.”

Luke strode out of the room, leaving the young doctors in an uncomfortable silence.

It was McKinley who broke it. “So, you’re a Fed?” she asked, nervously picking at loose skin around her thumbnail. “Yeah,” Spencer answered, suddenly very interested her laptop’s screensaver. She noticed an echo of that aura he had the other night: sad, angry, lost.

“You catch serial killers…makes sense,” she nodded as she retrieved her employee ID card from her desk. “See? I knew you were one of the good ones. Now, let’s see what the museum archives and I can do to help.”

It was dreadful; a string of home invasions and other assaults committed in minority neighborhoods, all against lifelong residents. Ultimately it came down to high tensions over gentrification of those areas. As an activist and social historian, McKinley was ashamed that she didn’t pay attention to how exactly everything fit together, how old newspaper articles and photographs pointed the BAU in a clearer direction. She channeled her energy into working up the nerve to talk to Spencer, wondering how to broach the subject.

He had her scan the documents and email them to the team’s Technical Analyst, calling her from McKinley’s desk phone to give her a heads-up. She giggled when she heard Garcia’s ‘Oracle of Quantico’ greeting and quick repartee.

“I’ll walk you out,” McKinley offered as Spencer gathered his messenger bag to leave. “No thanks, I’m fine.” He apparently couldn’t get away fast enough. “Wait, please. I-”

“Bite the bullet.” She drew a deep breath. “I don’t people well – that’s why I’m a behind the scenes kind of girl. I’m weird, perpetually awkward, I ramble, and I’ve been told on numerous occasions that I can be probing and off-putting. I want to apologize if I upset you the other week. It was a strange night for me too and my mouth had no filter and when my head cleared I realized I’d crossed a line.” McKinley’s blood rushed in her ears and stars erupted in her field of vision. “Stupid anxiety.”

Spencer opened and closed his mouth several times before finding his voice. “You spoke rather frankly and your observations were unnervingly accurate…but I needed that. It’s like you said: sometimes the best advice comes from strangers. You know, I’m glad we bumped into each other again.” His forehead creased and McKinley swore he wanted to laugh. “Hey, I didn’t run into you the first time – you fell over.”

“That’s because you scared the crap out of me!” She bit her lower lip. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

Spencer’s cell phone beeped. “It’s my boss. I really have to go, Dr.-” “Please, call me McKinley. You already knew me by my first name anyway, and besides, we did kinda get to second base earlier. Dear God, woman, stop talking!” she scolded herself. “See, Spencer? Perpetually awkward, no filter.”

This time he managed a smile. “You think you’re awkward? I’d give you a run for your money.” He checked his phone, sending a reply text. “All right, first names it is, then. Goodbye, McKinley.”

“Goodbye, Spencer…for now, at least.” As she watched him amble out of the office, her desire to protect and comfort him was overwhelming. Only two chance encounters and that sweet man had endeared himself to her. “I’m squishing something fierce.” McKinley squared her shoulders. “Well, there’s just one thing to do about that.” She marched back to the office phone, took a deep breath, and hit redial.

“Hey, Boy Wonder! Do you have something else for me?” “No, this is McKinley Durand, from the museum.” “Ah, hello there, my lovely! To what do I owe this second call?”

McKinley decided to be honest. “I know you’re busy, but I could really use your help. I made an ass of myself when your guys first got here. I sort of…knocked Dr. Reid to the floor and I’d like to make it up to him, so…which is his favorite Doctor from Doctor Who?”

“Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: What! You too? I thought I was the only one.” C.S. Lewis

“To love is to recognize yourself in another.” Eckhart Tolle

[thesinglesjukebox]

KATY PERRY FT. MIGOS - BON APPETIT [3.53] In which the Jukebox is told it's not getting any dessert until it's finished its Monday singles...

Rachel Bowles: Musing about cunnilingus is the finest thing a person can do, if she's good at it. Narrowed down to just vagina-as-food songs, Perry's extended mixed-metaphor is still easily outclassed, even by Iggy Azalea. As evidenced in this list, cunnilingus anthems have been largely pioneered and perfected by Black women (Janet Jackson, Lil Kim, TLC, etc.) those with the double curse of misogynoir proudly contradicting the patriarchal capitalist message that vaginas are disgusting and only for fucking. A good cunnilingus song makes women high five on dance floors, feel sexy and genuinely empowered. Personally, I prefer obscene instructional songs (Khia, "My Neck, My Back") over those with faux-coquettish metaphor (Christina Aguilera ft. Nicki Minaj, "Woohoo") but in Blow, Beyonce found the perfect balance: sexy imagery with a direct order, delivered with female solidarity in the echoed "Turn that cherry out!" "Got me spread like a buffet" to some generic summer EDM synths just doesn't compare. [3]

Iain Mew: Weird to hear a Katy Perry single where the lyrical issue isn't awkwardly cramming in sexual references, so much as incoherence as a result of failing to properly commit to the obvious cunnilingus angle. The low-key sweetness of the production and her restraint still makes it a better listen than most, and the two note-four note hop-skip in the chorus works even better than it did in Anne-Marie's "Ciao Adios." [6]

Katherine St Asaph: Christ, without Bonnie McKee's involvement Katy Perry really does go right back to One of the Boys leftovers with an Anne-Marie melody. In a just world, such a demonstration of value over replacement songwriter would earn McKee something, like maybe, I don't know, sales. In this one we get midtempo blahs I guess are supposed to signify sexiness, a cursory Migos feature fresh off their Capitol signing, and likely not even a hit to show for it. [2]

Danilo Bortoli: Fabricating hatred has never been easier in 2017. "Bon Appetit" might have received all the negative press it deserves, but that happened for all the wrong reasons. Over time, however, consensus was formed: this is the most soulless Katy has been in years. Nothing works. Migos are out of place here (as a solo version proves). And, of course, the track seems like the result of a pun contest's last place entry (apparently, this is a real and tasteless thing). No joke intended -- but the song itself, that is. [2]

Alfred Soto: "Five-star Michelin," eh? I'll say this about Katy's latest amuse-bouche: it follows through on its conceit. Confirming their A-list status, Migos gets relegated to muttered quavering non-entities. [5]

Scott Mildenhall: You might feel differently, but Katy Perry singing "got me spread like a buffet" just has to be one of the worst musical moments of the year so far. As extended metaphors go, this one is executed very badly. "Table for two... I'm on the menu" -- is she advocating autocannibalism? "Bon Appetit" has the ridiculousness of Perry's worst, most affectedly wacky singles, yet sounds like it's being played with a straight face, and that's quite a weird place to be. The shimmering production is enjoyable, but the words are so egregious that they're hard to ignore. [4]

Cassy Gress: This is arguably the least sexy sex song I've ever heard. Katy Perry is singing through an A/C window unit, the song just rocks back and forth between B♭ minor and B major with no resolution, Migos stops by and contributes virtually nothing, and it's a bit too close to "GOBBLE GOBBLE" for comfort for me. It manages to come off as clinical despite never explicitly referencing sex; I know I'm sort of squeamish about sex talk, but blugh. I'd rather listen to "Touch It." [1]

William John: Katy Perry whispering unsexy, overwrought metaphors over boilerplate house reads poorly as a primer, but remains a more tantalising proposition than faded xeroxes of 80s synthpop with vacant "let's save the world" platitudes. A few extra marks for the intermittent whoops, which nod reverently to Crazy Cousins' classic "Inflation" (at least in my head) and Migos, who may have phoned in their guest spot but deliver it lithely nonetheless. [5]

Katie Gill: Turns out "Chained to the Rhythm" was just a fluke! No, Katy Perry's going to continue to make songs about sex with dumb metaphors stretched to high heaven, warped into near unrecognition. It's an even tackier version of "Birthday", where the best thing is the Migos break and the worst thing is the impossibly tacky dancehall stylings. Possibly the most interesting thing about this song is the cannibalistic implications -- "I'm on the menu"? Really? -- which has the potential to be thought provoking, so of course that means Perry's going to ignore it. [3]

Joshua Copperman: Between "lemiteiku" and "the worldsbestcherryPIe", this melodic math was a bit miscalculated. And that's before the chorus, which is possibly the worst Katy Perry melody ever, even counting "This Is How We Do". Unusual for Max Martin, as far as I can tell, the chord progression is limited to B♭m-B the whole way through -- apparently they couldn't even be bothered to use four chords. Migos' verses aren't bad, and I smiled at "appetite for seduction," but those are all the positives I could think of for this half-assed song that makes me wish a portmanteau of somnambulance and cannibalism was possible (somnamibalism?). I assumed that "Bon Appetit" would grow on me over the summer, but as it's currently flopping after just one week of existence, I'll never even get the opportunity to hate-then-enjoy it. [3]

Will Adams: Against my better judgment, I clicked on the Tasty video in which Katy Perry prepares the "world's best cherry pie" (take: this is an impossible task because there's no such thing as a cherry pie that's anything but gross). But my regret soon turned into high enjoyment as I listened to Katy ramble incoherently in some misguided attempt to create a Genius annotation live. As with "Chained to the Rhythm," there's so much effort to legitimize the nonsense pouring out of her mouth: 1. She claims there are "easter eggs" in the lyrics; I think she just means euphemisms. 2. What the hell kind of songs has she heard where "cherry pie" was not sexualized? 3. That she's trying to connect this to the cherry Chapstick in "I Kissed a Girl" shows she still hasn't realized she should probably disown that song. It's all so tiresome; "Birthday" worked because it leaned into the cheesiness, but "Bon Appetit" goes serious with its Cobb salad of food-based innuendo, a concept I've rarely heard executed well. Fold in some perfunctory Migos, overdress with the entire world's supply of reverb, and... oh fuck, now I'm doing it. [4]

Anthony Easton: I adore the gossip about Perry's fighting around her new aesthetic with the label, who apparently is worried about sales. I have no idea if this will revive her fortunes; it's not quite anonymous, but it pushes her against Migos, and Migos wins -- working against each other, doubling down on a cryptic chorus, becoming very close to being a hook singer. It's not sexy, even if it is about sex, and this kind of disembodied paen to the abstract idea of desire complicates Perry's previous perceptions. It's not quite a meal, but it does seem to have that vague whiff of nausea after eating too much candy. [8]

Thomas Inskeep: I guess, seeing that "woke Katy" didn't exactly burn up the charts, her camp/label/some-combo-thereof decided "we better go back to the clumsy sex songs, fast!" Because, you know, nothing's sexier than hearing someone say they're "spread like a buffet." (Pardon me while I throw up a little in my mouth.) I'm sad to hear Migos doing a clear cash-in bridge rap here, because they're so much better than this. Max Martin and Shellback's track isn't bad, but it's sonically awfully slight. Ironic to hear Perry saying "bon appetit," because there's no major pop star whose music I find less appetizing. [1]

Edward Okulicz: Pop stars get hot but they don't stay hot forever, and if this uninteresting ode to Katy Perry's vagina returns her to the top spot, then there is no explanation other than massive amounts of payola and a bunch of Capitol Records interns doing nothing but stream this 24 hours a day. I couldn't last 24 minutes of the title's non-punchline squeezed, against the laws of nature, into this non-chorus. [2]

Jonathan Bradley: I have a Spotify playlist of Katy Perry songs that runs for about 50 minutes. That's not an extensive running time for a ten year long career, but it contains some songs that are very good and some songs that are very stupid and also some songs that are very good and very stupid at the same time. Perry has had five songs off a single album reach the top of the Billboard Hot 100 -- as well as a sixth from a re-issued version. She's been risible and racist and homophobic and "woke" and "inspirational" and fantastic, and even birthed a meme from her Super Bowl performance, but on "Bon Appetit," she's nothing. This is a public-domain club groove and a Migos verse that couldn't deliver the rap group unto dance even as effectively as Calvin Harris did. If, immediately after "Ur So Gay" dropped, someone time-travelled to 2017, could you convince them off the strength of this single that, in the interim decade, Katy Perry had been one of America's biggest pop stars? [4]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

[tweenerdadventures]

Hamilton - A Summary

Right so. Basically Alexander Hamilton was born in the Caribbean poor as shit. His father left when he was 10 and his mother died 2 years later after they were both ill. He moved in with his cousin and started reading, writing, and working, moving up very fast in the ranks of the trade firm. Then his cousin committed suicide and a hurricane destroyed the town, but the town put together a fund to send him to America to study and make something of himself. He gets there and gets into Kings College, but wants to graduate in 2 years instead of 4 so he can go fight in the revolution, but the college is like nah fam and he's like "FIGHT ME IRL" and then punches the bursar. Needless to say they kick him tf out and he rolls into town to see Aaron Burr (who had graduated in 2 years cause his parents died and left money to the college - rich kids amirite). Burr tells him to talk less smile more, and is like generally "Hamilton sit down". Hamilton ignores this then meets some other revolutionary peeps (Laurens, Lafayette, and HERCULES MULLIGAN - You'll understand later why his name must always be capitalised). He gets them all riled up and drunk as shit and is like we should go fight someone. So they roll up to a guy called Samuel Seybury who doesn't support the revolution and they're like HOW DARE and try to fight him. While this is going on the Schuyler Sisters (Angelica, Eliza......... and Peggy) are rolling through NYC trying to pick up dudes, and Burr tries to hit on them but they tell him to fuck off and start talking about how women should be equal to men (amen sisters) Then King George III rocks up and is like why are you doing this America I thought we were BFFs how could YOU. And then he's like that's it definitely sending my army in now. So ding dong it's all aboard the revolution express and George Washington is emo because he needs someone to help him out and his soldiers are demotivated. In rolls Burr like ayo I was a captain before and my previous commander got shot so... HIRE ME. It gets awks. Real fast. But Hamilton shows up and Washington is like THANK FUCK Burr you can go. Hamilton then agrees to be Washington's right hand man. Back to the sisterhood of purity and now it's time for a LOVE TRIANGLE 0.o - So Angelica sorta fancies Hamilton but also Eliza loves Hamilton and they're like omg what shall we do. But Angelica is like aha I'm probably too good for him he can have my sister instead. Then she has the regrets and is like to her sis please share him ;-) And Eliza is like A HAHAHA GOOD JOKE but pls don't steal him. So Eliza and Alexander get married and Burr rocks up to say congrats but then Alex and the crew wail on him for zero reason other than fuck Burr I guess. Also turns out Burr is having an affair with the wife of a British officer and Alex is like oh damn son but srs why are you scared go get her why do you wait. And Burr is like LEMME TELL YOU A STORY about waiting. Burr explains his parents and grandad were great people who did amazing things but then they died and left him with only their legacy to protect and that is why he is so cautious. He has one of the most heartbreaking lines in the show "If there's a reason I'm still alive when everyone who loves me has died, then I'm willing to wait for it". He also expresses sorta admiration/disbelief that Alexander keeps taking and taking and not waiting, and yet he keeps winning. Ding dong it's back to revolution and Hamilton wants a promotion. He's like PLS George Washington give me my own command. And Washington is like nah fam imma appoint this other dude Charles Lee instead. This goes badly when Lee nearly gets everyone killed, and Hamilton is like SOMEONE SHOULD FIGHT HIM. Laurens fights him and wins but then Washington is piiiiiiiiissed and sends Hamilton home where it turns out NEWSFLASH Eliza is pregnant and just wants Alexander to stay home as that would be enough for her. But Hamilton is like nah fam war isn't done - ANGST. Back to revolution and Lafayette is rapping REALLY FUCKING FAST cause he's suddenly learned all of English when he wasn't very good at it before. He explains how he brought reinforcements and shit from France but is like Washington you really need Hamilton back and Washington is like omg you're right Hamilton pls come back I'll give you soldiers to command BUT first listen to my song about the first time I was in command and oopsed and got my men killed so yeah DON'T DO THAT also bear in mind history has its eyes on you they may even make a musical someday ayo ;) So Hamilton comes back and they end up winning and King George gets SUPER UPSET because parliament won't pay for his war anymore but he's like good luck lmao now see what I've had to deal with being in charge. So revolution is over and America is born, meanwhile Burr and Hamilton both have kids at the same time and turns out they're pretty similar in that they wanna build a good world for their kids to live in. Hamilton moves back to New York finishes his studies and becomes a lawyer, where he ends up working with Burr on the first murder trial in America. He shows off as usual and Burr gets pissed, but is also like how do you keep doing all this stuff oh my God you're non stop. INTERMISSION So yeah now we've skipped forward a bit and Washington is President, Hamilton becomes Treasury Secretary. But UH OH Thomas Jefferson is back from France where he has been getting hella high and sleeping with loads of women, and he's here to fuck Hamilton's shit up. They have a straight up rap battle in a cabinet meeting and Hamilton wins but realises he's outnumbered anyway and need to change tactics if he wants his financial plans implemented. Meanwhile Eliza really wants him to take a fucking break and listen to his son play piano and rap, and also go with her and Angelica on holiday. Hamilton is like nah fam I have to work soz and they go away anyway. But then Hamilton fucks up. Literally. He sleeps with a woman called Maria Reynolds who rolls into his office asking for dolla. But UH OH turns out her husband knows and blackmails Hamilton to keep it quiet, and he agrees because he's an atrocious human being. Back to politics for a sec and Hamilton makes a deal with Jefferson to move the capital to Washington DC from NYC if his financial plans go through. But Burr gets super angry because nobody invited him to government camp, and then Hamilton is like I got what I wanted but WHAT DO YOU WANT. *side eyes emoji* And Burr is like I wanna be in the room where it happens. So finally in the second act we know what Burr actually wants. And apparently his first step is to get elected a Senator. So ofc he's like lol I'll just kick Eliza's dad out of the Senate how could this go wrong ^^ Surprise surprise it goes poorly and Hamilton is piiiiisssssed. And Burr's dropping mega shady vibes like Hamilton your pride will be the death of us all ;) ;) Beware it cometh before the fall ;) ;) ;) So there's another cabinet meeting now and France is fighting Britain and wants America's help. Hamilton is like NUUUUPE we can't do that it's a mess lol sorry France. Jefferson meanwhile is like WHAT THIS IS OUTRAGEOUSSSSSSS. He forms an alliance with Burr and they call themselves SOUTHERN MOTHER FUCKING DEMOCRATIC REPUBLICANS. He then resigns from the cabinet and is like imma run for President. Washington by this point is too old for this shit and is like I don't wanna be President anymore. And Alexander is like A hahaha ha good joke. And Washington is like no fam I'm serious. And Hamilton is like 😭😭😭 so they write a farewell address to the nation and everyone is sad but then Washington rides off to go enjoy his retirement. So Jefferson loses the election to Washington's Vice President, John Adams. But Jefferson is the new VP. Adams fires Hamilton and is super racist towards him but then Alexander is like HOW DARE and destroys him in the paper. Jefferson and Burr have at this point noticed some weird payments coming out of Hamilton's accounts to James Reynolds and think he's been doing some dodgy financial corruption shit. So they roll up like hey we got the cheque stubs boy explain this. And Hamilton is like oh shit so he confesses his affair but is like please keep it secret omg. And they're like k I guess. Hamilton then remembers how he wrote his way out of the Caribbean and so OF COURSE he can write his way out of this situation as well. So he decides to write and publish the Reynolds pamphlet where he is like "yall think I'm guilty of financial crimes but JOKES ON YOU I actually had an affair ayo" and everyone's like wait what. And Eliza is like wait WHAT. And Angelica is like MOTHERFUCKER WHAT. So Hamilton definitely fucked up his whole political career never to be fixed woops. Angelica shows up and Hamilton is like thank gawd someone who understands me and Angelica is like BITCH I'M NOT HERE FOR YOU I'm here for my sister so go away. Eliza is v angry and basically burns all Hamilton's letters to her and is like I hope that YOU burn (also a fucking chilling emotional line). Ding dong. It's time for a time shift and now Hamilton's son Philip is 19 and just graduated from King's College. But UH OH someone talked shit about his father and he's like IMMA FIGHT THEM and Hamilton is like fine but pls don't actually shoot them and Philip is like fine when we duel I won't shoot dad omg. So they duel and Philip aims for the sky intending not to shoot but they other guys pulls a dick move and shoots before they count to 10. So Philip is deceased and Eliza and Hamilton r upset. So Hamilton is pretty :’( and now wanders the streets by himself, finds jesus (not in the streets, in like his heart), and eventually him and Eliza make everything right. But hold up its politics time again and now it's an election year. Jefferson is running for President again and John Adams is gonna lose but uh oh Burr also runs for President. It's a tie and the whole party goes to Hamilton like Bro who you want to be Pres? And Hamilton is like leave me alone. And then they say it again LOUDER and Hamilton meets Burr whilst out campaigning and is like "is there anything you wouldn't do to win" and Burr is like "no and I learned that from you". So Hamilton finally agrees to endorse someone and SHOCKER endorses Jefferson. His reasoning is I'm enemies with Jefferson but at least he has principles cos Burr has none. And Jefferson is like wait what. And Burr is like MOTHERFUCKER WHAT. So Burr writes some angry letters to Hamilton basically blaming him for everything that's gone wrong in his life. Hamilton responds with an itemised FUCKING LIST of the disagreements they've had. Burr is like take it back. Hamilton says no. Burr is like fight me then. Hamilton is like k fam let's go. So they're gonna duel but before that Hamilton writes a letter to Eliza explaining all this shit. He then rocks up to the dueling ground across the river and Burr is like Wait is he actually gonna shoot me omg THIS MAN WILL NOT MAKE AN ORPHAN OF MY DAUGHTER (also a tearjerker moment) so they count to 10 and shots are fired. Hamilton is hit and does a death soliloquy like oh shit what is my legacy. He sees the light and all the dead people he loves and is like imma go there too. Back to realtime and Burr is like he's aiming his pistol to the sky? ? WAAAAIIIIIT. But it's too late he's shot Hamilton in the ribs and he's rushed away and gets a drink. He's told he'd better hide cause Alexander died. He now laments that history obliterates and paints him in all his mistakes, and that he's now the villain in our history. Basically he has the mega regrets. Then everyone gets together and sings about Alexander's life and Eliza explains how she's telling his story to everyone, and how she lives another 50 years (time that he always wanted). She raises funds to build the Washington Monument, speaks out against slavery, and is basically the real MVP for the rest of her life. But her proudest achievement is establishing the first private orphanage in NYC and helping loads of kids grow up and she's like "in their eyes I see you Alexander I see you every time". She now wonders if she has done enough and if people will tell her story, and that she can't wait to see him again Musical over.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #62

“for better or for worse, i was born into a hearse.”

what do you normally eat at a barbecue?   honestly, i suffer at a barbecue.  i don't like anything that is usually cooked. do you prefer aquatic creatures or flying (water or air)?   flying, i presume. would you like to go swimming with dolphins?   i'd be kinda iffy, because i know dolphins can be quite mean, but i'd still do it. what to you is beautiful beyond all compare?   jason.  well, he's handsome, but you get it. in 5 years time, what do you NOT want to be doing (worst scenario)?   uhhh i guess be in prison for murdering ashley. have you and a friend ever gone after the same person?   thank god, no. do you lead people on?   i do not. have you ever been told that you were going to hell?   nope. do you know any actual dances or do you just move to the music?   not really.  i just know shit like the cupid shuffle and uhhh... not the electric slide... what's the other song like it? name the coolest thing about one of your grandparents.   they built their own house. do you know which side your appendix is on?   uhhhh... left, i think? if someone was willing to tell your crush you liked them would you let them?   it'd be useless.  he already knows. do you put q-tips in your ear or just round the outside?   honestly i'll put them into the ear a bit because i hate my ears feeling waxy. have you ever popped another person’s zit?   no, thank jesus. gave you ever told a friend to dump their SO? did they?   yeah, summer when she dated nick.  she did eventually. what do you think is the coolest piercing on someone else?   back dermals. who do you tease most often and what about?   the only person i've ever been comfortable teasing was jason.  i'd call him a geek a lot, but he knows i didn't mean it harmfully.  i'm attracted to geeks anyway. most disgusting bug?   disgusting, well, obviously the dung beetle. favorite thing you’ve ever painted?   i painted two meerkats grooming each other on burlap in acrylic in high school.  turned out stellar, in my honest opinion. when it’s your birthday, do you have the correct number of candles?   i probably won't this year, as 21 is quite a few. when you take surveys, what kinds of questions do you HOPE will be asked?   just unique ones.  questions you very rarely hear, or my favorite, controversial ones that really invoke thought. do you like 80s music?   80s metal, hell yeah. what kind of food is your favorite? (Ex. Mexican, Chinese, Thai, etc.)   american how would you feel if you were drafted for the military?   i'd rather die. would you have sex before marriage? why or why not?   i still don't know.  i've said before i regret not letting jason take my virginity, and i don't want regrets.  honestly, if by some miracle he comes back, i'm ditching it.  through him being gone, i have truly seen just how much i adore him, and when you love someone this much, i don't care if i'm not legally bound to him, he deserves to know me like that.  if i start a new relationship, though... i kinda doubt i'll ever have sex until i'm married, because if jason can't take my virginity, i don't want another man to until i'm married to him.  jason had to wait, so does he. lmao reading that, my logic is so fucky, idk. how do you feel about shaved pubes?   if you don't like them, shave them.  good for you. are you more liberal or conservative?   i'm definitely more conservative, but have some liberal views. why do some teenagers drink alcohol?   i'm sure everyone drinks for a different reason. do you like obama?   i don't know enough about him to judge fairly.  i disagree with some of his policies that i know about, but he honestly seems like a really chill and funny dude. would making abortion illegal really be the logical thing to do?   fucking yes it would be.  and DO NOT give me the "it'll only stop safe abortions" argument.  guess what?  murder's illegal.  still happens.  a mother should in no way be comfortable killing her spawn, and i am disgusted beyond anything more in human nature by the fact people do it without even flinching.  just.  shit.  i have so much to say about this.  i do pity a woman who decides to have an unsafe abortion, yes, but no, i will not say sorry to you that a child "inconvenienced" you.  i do not CARE what is going on in your life, you act like a fucking adult, suck that shit up, bear the child, give it up to adoption.  think it'll scar you for life?  guess the fuck what?  shit far "worse" than a CHILD happens to a good majority of people. lkasjdoaisuere i really don't feel like going on with this.  and i know i sound so feisty with this subject, but i am just so passionate about the issue. does the person you like, like you?   apparently not. what's the most sexual thing you've done?   idk, oral i guess? what's your opinion on masturbation?   this question seems to come up a lot lately in the quizzes i'm finding...  but anyway.  it's wrong.  lustful.  gross in my opinion, i don't care how clean you may be. do you wish you had an eating disorder because you want to lose weight?   okay, i want to lose weight VERY badly, but i would never wish an eating disorder upon myself. what is your favorite queen song?   "bohemian rhapsody," duh! who is the sexiest celebrity? would you cheat on your partner for this celebrity?   link neal is daddy af.  but no, i wouldn't. how often do you cuss?   just as often as i say "normal" words. how is your self-esteem?   non-existent. have you ever thought about committing suicide?   tried it. have you ever cleaned up someone else’s vomit?   i have not, and i couldn't. would you kiss the last person you texted?   that would be colleen, and no. do you think you exercise enough?   i don't exercise period.  i feel too fucking weak to ever do it efficiently and because of my medication, i sweat to the point that it is NOT worth it. you’re getting ready to go to bed, and the last person you kissed shows up. what do you say?  "hi, sweetheart." if i offered to buy you a chocolate bar, which would you choose?   hershey's, please. have you ever written a song or poem for someone special?   i have.  i hope he still has it... have you ever been told that you resemble a celebrity?   no, but i've been told i resemble a video game character.  well, i did. in your life, who is the person that seems to understand you the most?   of all the people in my life, i thought jason did. last time you got goosebumps?   well i'm still watching the "life is strange" playthrough from earlier and this fucking game gives me goosebumps pretty easily. do you have a beatles shirt?   no, i don't enjoy them enough to have one. what color(s) have you dyed your hair?   i've had black, red, purple, burgundy... probably more i'm forgetting. do you think about the way things used to be often?   my life's consumed by it. have you ever dated a ginger?   nope. have you ever cheated on a boyfriend/girlfriend?   nope. how do you like being roused in the morning?   ... i'mma just say a "certain way" by jason like he liked to do. favorite food?   jalapeno pizza what is the best news you could hear right now?   "jason wants to give you an apology." do you listen to screamo?   no, it's one of the rare metal sub-genres i do not enjoy.  i want to be able to understand the words. does your town/area have a farmer’s market? do you ever buy your vegetables there rather than grocery store?   area, sure, maybe like an hour away.  town, no, so we don't really buy groceries there. you're on life support, and you want someone to pull the plug.  who do you want to do it?   honest to god... if jason could do one more thing for me, if that was my life... it'd be that.  he's already done so much to me that he might as well kill me, too.  it sounds dark, i know, but if that was my life, living in such torture, i'd want him to take the roll of messiah again, one more time, like he did when we were dating.  for him to save me from a fate worse than death, for him to do that one last thing for me, maybe i would die at least slightly happy.  I AM NOOOOOT saying i want that to actually happen, i don't at all, but if it were to happen, i'd want jason to be the one to muster up the will to visit me even once to do it. has anyone ever “ruined” anything for you (for example: your partner says, “oh, this song always reminds me of my ex” and you never want to listen to it again, or your friend is so obsessed with a movie that you start to resent the film)?   ohhhh boy.  OHHHHHH BOY.  can i actually like... vent here about everything jason ruined for me?  just to get this shit out, because i'm honestly still hurt that so many things i can't experience anymore?  let's start, boiz! motionless in white and black veil brides both trigger me, as they were his favorite bands, but i listen to them anyway.  i can't listen to "the mortician's daughter" and "saviour" by bvb, "city lights" by motionless in white fucks with me a bit, i cannot tolerate "when it's love" by van halen or "all or nothing" by theory of a deadman because i thought both would play big parts in my wedding with him.  i can't listen to "stairway to heaven" by led zeppelin because of that time we danced to it.  i can't watch "american horror story," "supernatural," or "sherlock" because we binge-watched them all.  i can't go to olive garden because he used to work there.  i can't go to office depot because he works there now.  i can't even think of the batman series, particularly joker and harley quinn, without thinking of jason.  i'm most certain there's more, but that's all that's coming to me right now... would you ever get a tattoo in honor of someone in your life?  it doesn't have to be their name.   ... sigh.  three questions in a row where i'm going to go on and on about jason, lmao...  well, the answer's yes.  i know people in my life are going to have problems with it, especially family, but i've seriously considered many tats i want in his honor.  i've thought about the consequences, and frankly, i do not care.  i want them.  who knows, maybe i will move on one day (i doubt it, but who knows), but i can guarantee to you that i may not like, but won't mind having memories on him ingrained into my flesh. so anyone, here's the tattoos i think i'll actually get: 1.) "... and you ain't got his smile" quote (harley quinn quote; the one i'm most likely to do); 2.) "i don't love you like i did yesterday" (mcr song) quote with two hands ripping a heart below it [this song has really helped me through this breakup], 3.) a watercolor blue jay (his nickname is "j bird"), 4.) "i love you more than i could ever scream" (bvb song) quote, and 5.) "saudade" (means a longing for one you cannot have, stuff like that).  yes.  i am seriously considering getting five tats dedicated to my ex.  move along. away from jason, yeah, i'd get tats for other people, too.  i have a shared "ohana" tattoo with my best friend.  i'll probably get something with my mother at some point, too. if you had a significant other and somehow got a chance to kiss your celebrity crush, would you still go for it?   no, honestly. if you still live with your parents, is it scary for you to imagine living away from them when you move out on your own? if you live on your own, how did you cope with moving away from your family for the first time?   i am scared of moving out, yes.  depression makes me... kinda irresponsible, to be honest.  i'm not the best at taking care of myself and such, and i don't want to neglect my house.  when i lived in the apartment, it was a good taste of how it'd be like, and we all failed.  i'm very, very scared of moving out. do you tend to be attracted to people that are more similar to you in interests and mannerisms or do you tend to be attracted to someone opposite/complementing to you?   i'm definitely attracted to people more like me. is there something that people complain about that just makes you roll your eyes because you think is not a big deal and you would gladly trade your own issues for it?   i mean, sometimes, yeah.  at the same time though, i know exactly what it's like to have an issue that people underestimate.  it's the exact reason colleen and i are fighting.  you don't know how well or badly a certain person will handle a specific issue. have you ever received an unwanted gift from someone trying to woo you? did you accept it or reject it?   from juan, yeah.  i've accepted minor stuff, but never anything major. have you ever boycotted a product or corporation? how come?   i don't think i seriously have. if someone asks you to hang out, but for some reason you’re just feeling lazy/don’t want to go anywhere, do you ignore them, make up an excuse, or just tell them the honest truth?   lmao i'll honestly do all three.  just depends. have you heard of or even read the novel, “50 shades of grey”? if so, what’s your opinion about it?   everyone's heard of it, and it's fucking disgusting and demeaning and instills terrible relationship ideals into some people. has a guy ever let you wear his jacket?   jason has a big leather jacket i loved to "steal" while we were in the school cafeteria because i was always cold. has anyone you ever dated called you in the middle of the night just to hear your voice?   no, not just for that. have you met anyone famous?   i have not. what will your next piercing be?   mom really doesn't want to be the one to buy me my tongue piercing because she's so against the idea, so she's thinking of letting me get my lip re-pierced on my birthday. what do you regret doing at FAR too young?   fully and with reckless abandon giving someone my heart. do you have any weapons for personal protection?   no.  i'm not legally allowed to own a gun due to me being mentally ill/having a history of suicide attempts, and i don't know about other weapons. is there a piece of jewelry that holds any sentimental value to you?   yes, a ring jason gave me for our anniversary once.  it had a golden base with a bluish-purple gem.  it was pretty big.  he was so pissed (not at me, at the seller) when it broke, though.  i still have it in the jewelry box he gave me... what does your facebook status say right now?   ehhhh, i honestly kinda exploded last night and went off on everyone who calls me "friend," no one in particular.  i was tired of being so let down by the people who "care" about me. would you ever agree to an open relationship with someone?   no way in seven hells. have you ever had your picture in the newspaper?   i have not. what did you have for dinner last night?   i was so upset that i didn't eat. do you think you look similar to your siblings?   i look less like them than ashley and nicole look like each other, but i do look like them. what do you usually dream about?   jason's always there. do you ever use sleep as a way to cope with bad moods?   i use sleep to cope with, well, a lot.  when i'm bored, i'll sleep, when i feel like crap, i'll sleep...  i almost always take at least one nap a day, and sometimes i'll lie down a second time.  it's embarrassing to admit. what’s the most self-destructive thing you’ve ever done?   letting jason become my world. was (or is) it difficult for you to watch your siblings mature? if you’re an only child, is it difficult to watch family members in general get older?   it's not as hard with ashley, but it really is with nicole.  she's the youngest, and though we're bonded truly only through blood, i don't like seeing her get older.  it's still weird that she has a feminine body and not a child's, and she's 18 for heaven's sake.  all but like one of her boyfriends i haven't trusted.  it hurts me physically when her current bf acts like the shithead he is.  i nearly had an emotional breakdown when i found out she was having sex via the doctor.  i don't like her growing up. have you ever blamed an outside force for a problem you were having?   ... i guess blaming jason for a lot of things. do you find yourself getting more optimistic around new year’s, or does that time of year have a negative affect on you?   there's no change at all.  a new year has no effect on events that transpire, so there's literally no reason to be optimistic. who was your high school crush?   he was more than a "crush," but jason. what do you dislike about your smile?   my eyes squint when i smile. have you noticed that EVERYONE is ‘bisexual’ these days?   erm, not "everyone" is, but i noticed bisexuality becoming popular when i was in middle school.  many, many girls i knew claimed to be so, then would "turn straight" like a year later.  it was stupid. are you online 24/7?   pretty much, yes. who is your favorite online friend?   i don't really have one since mini just kinda ditched me. is it possible to be single and happy?   i'm certain it is, but after tasting what genuine love is like, i'm coming to accept i guess it's just not for me.  i don't want to rush things, though, which i'm scared of doing. is there anyone who hates you?   pretty sure rachel did in high school, don't know if she still does. does your mom know your deepest darkest secrets?   no, she does not. who did you last talk to about the person you like?   mom, i think. is there anyone you trust who you shouldn’t?   jason, i guess. do you want kids?   i guess i do.  but pondering it, there's a minor possibility i won't.  it depends on who i date.  like... before i dated jason (i know ya'll are so fucking tired of hearing about him, i truly am sorry), i didn't want kids.  a year or so into our relationship, i did, solely because i loved him so much.   i wanted a manifestation of us.  when i think of the possibility of having kids, i'm pretty sure i still only visualize it being with my ex, so that's why i still say "yeah i want kids."  who knows... if by some miracle i end up with someone else, i may not want their kids... who knows... have you ever fallen completely in love?   completely and entirely. do you believe in celebrating anniversaries?   of course i do!  love is a fucking perfect thing to celebrate! what was your biggest worry five years ago, do you still feel the same about it at this minute?   five years ago, i was busy worrying if jason and i would last.  guess i know now. do you want your children (if you have any) to be ‘just like you’?   no.  god no.  please. do you have same sex fantasies?   no, i don't. would you ever have sex in the shower or the bath?   i mean, i'd try it, sure, but i don't think it'd be my thing. opinion on immigrants/immigration reform?   i have very mixed feelings with this.  like i understand perfectly that some people have very valid reasons to leave their countries, but we also have to consider our maximum capacity as a country and how easily we could accidentally bring in a terrorist.  because of my mixed feelings, i really can't answer this question should prostitution be legalized?   fuck no. why are you the person you are?   my upbringing, the environment i was raised in, my experiences... if you were offered a shot of whiskey right this second, would you accept?   sure, i've never tried it before. what are you like when you’re drunk?   i'm sociable, i laugh a lot, and apparently i like to sing.  i like drunk me way more than sober me. do you want a church wedding?   i do not. story of the first time you made out with someone?   so jason and i were playfighting on his bed and to shut me up, he kissed me, and because of me having been talking, my mouth was open, sooo it kinda just escalated from there.  i still remember we kissed about a million times that day, probably.  so i can't be too bad a kisser lol. first time you gave/received oral sex?   i'm pretty sure he gave me oral sex first, but i don't really remember it much?  nor do i recall the first time i gave him oral?  i remember liking it but really not wanting to, and i tensed up very badly.  giving it to him, i just simply didn't enjoy (nor did i really know what to do at all in case i hurt him), even though i'm aware he was clean.  like i'm just sorry, i don't care who you are, i don't want the place you ejaculate and piss from in my mouth.  because of this, we didn't really do oral much. do you still talk to the person you lost your virginity to?   i still have my virginity. how many followers do you have on tumblr? what about twitter/instagram?   40 on my main tumblr blog, 25 on my survey one.  i am but a smol bean.  i don't have twitter and instagram. first time you thought you were in love? when did you realize that you weren’t actually in love with that person?   maybe a year or so into my relationship with jason, perhaps later?  and i was and still am in love with that man. ever seen someone just roll out of bed and still look hot?
   that's jason for you.  his hair was always so messy in the morning, but he looked like a rugged angel to me. would you ever get a tattoo on your collar bone?   i already have one there. if you were pregnant right now…?   financially, that'd be very, very bad.  regardless though, i'd keep the child and, depending on the paternity, keep it or adopt it out.  the only person i've ever done anything remotely sexual with is jason, so i'm guessing he'd have to be the dad, despite not seeing him for over a year???  if that was the case, i'd keep the baby and raise it as best i could and treasure it beyond belief.  if it wasn't his, this sounds... really bad, but i don't feel like i would have the desire to raise it myself.  it's obvious i don't love myself, so having a child that was a mix of me and god-knows-who would just feel... idk.  i don't feel like i'd be capable of loving it properly, so i'd give him/her to a family that would. have you ever kissed an ex after you two have broken up?   i have not. do you ever wear boots with skinny jeans?   i used to, when i was slimmer.  i rocked skinny jeans and black boots, imo. is there a den in your house?   there's not a room we refer to as "den," no. what's currently on your mind?   ha, first lemme say a shit load is on my mind.  always is.  but what's lying most heavily on my mind at the moment is how i quit school yesterday, and now i feel like i won't succeed as a photographer.  which is ridiculous, i know, considering all college would do me is give me a fancy sheet of paper.  it would perhaps slightly increase my chances of being employed by a company, but... hello, i want to be a freelance photographer???  getting a degree and digging so deep into debt just didn't seem worth it, at all.  experience is far more important than being told how to photograph, and you can find most information about photography online for free.  it's not worth it for what i want to focus on, i know, but dammit, that little nagging thought in me that says i failed... do you have a pinterest account?   lmao yeah i do.  i shamelessly have boards mostly related to photographs i want to recreate with my future family.  i also have a board related to stylistic/fashion choices and tattoos. have you ever seen the television show the munsters?   yes yes yes yes yes!!! would you/have you spent more than $200 on any one person for a holiday?   i mean, sure.  i might want to get a significant other something pricey, or i'd use it to get christmas presents for my child(ren). thoughts on slenderman? have you even heard of him?   i don't think he's at all scary honestly, but i guess the story of him's okay?  he's an... okay-ish introduction for someone who wants to explore horror games too, i assume. what would you call yourself the king or queen of?   obsessing over my ex. if i paid for you to take karate lessons, would you?   no, honestly. what is the saddest movie that you’ve ever seen?   hmmmm... i am not entirely sure. opinion: on surveys that begin with your name, age, etc?   i either don't take the survey if it's full of basic shit or delete the questions that are always asked. do you know any people who cuss in every sentence?   jason's mother, pretty much. ever written that you were going to end your life?   i've told my ex that over facebook before, yes.  that's the only reason he came to my house after he broke up with me, probably. is life good?   is life good, despite all the hell, struggles, joys, and spans of boredom?  no.  no, it is not. did you lose friends when you started dating someone?   juan stopped talking to me, but i barely considered him a friend anyway. have you ever used the word “rawr” in an actual conversation?   ... yes. would you change yourself for the person you love?   if he's interested in me changing for the better, sure.  but by now, i almost feel like i'd change however jason wanted me to... do you have someone you can be your complete self around?   i mean i guess i can, but i don't. do you have nice eyes?   they're average, i guess. how did you celebrate your last birthday?   we went to texas steakhouse. have you ever had sex on the beach?   no, and that sounds... gross... with all the sand...? would you ever shave your head to save someone you love?   of course. can you juggle?   nope. what’s the last thing you drew a picture of?   i'm pretty sure i drew a portrait of jason last. is your bellybutton an innie or outie?   innie. have you ever been banned from a public place?   i have not. what horror fiction character scares you the most?   scream, definitely. have you ever milked a cow?   no, and i don't really want to. have you ever given blood?   once in high school, yes. do you know any identical twins?   i do.  i forget the other kid's name, it was jason and... something.  remember that story of how the only reason i accepted my jason's friend request is because i thought he was another jason?  yeah, it was that jason. have you ever made your own ice cream?   colleen and i did together, yeah. (:

[sarahburness]

How I Stopped Chasing Highs and Self-Destructing

“Problems cannot be solved with the same mind set that created them.” ~Albert Einstein

In our culture, it’s pretty common to think of rock ‘n’ roll hedonism a little wistfully. From Keith Richards to Hunter S. Thompson, the wild nights and strung-out days of the world’s most iconic party animals are seen as integral to their sparkling creativity, rebellious nature, and untouchable glamour.

So many people, especially if they want to make it in the creative industries, idealize and inevitably attempt to mimic these lifestyles. Whether they want to be a “work hard, play hard” music producer, channel Hemingway as a bar-frequenting writer, or fulfill the image of free-spirited artist, artificial highs come with the territory.

When I was in my twenties, I fell for this concept hook, line, and sinker. I was working in the music industry and quickly cemented my image as the consummate party boy. Up for any new experience and the person you came to for a good night out, to an outside observer, it would seem that I was having the time of my life.

However, after the months turned into years of living this way, it became clear that all those hard-drinking, pill-popping creatives have produced their canon of work in spite of their lifestyles, not because of them.

When you hear the amazing tales of fun and debauchery, you don’t see the crashing hangover the next day, or the sense of hopelessness and despair that comes with being trapped in yet another comedown, while life refuses to move forward.

I was relying on various kinds of chemical highs to hide the fact that in every other part of my life, I was stressed and strained to breaking point.

Plagued by chronic insomnia, I hadn’t had a good night’s sleep for years. But within my industry, this pleasure-seeking and self-destructive behavior felt normalized, because that’s how most people behaved.

Instead of living the dream, I felt trapped in an endless cycle of stress and anxiety. Letting my hair down one too many times a week was a shortcut to feeling okay—at least for one evening.

The fact is that this kind of hedonism doesn’t make us feel better in any meaningful long term sense. It’s a distraction. It’s a way for us to temporarily feel good, and potentially open us up to interesting experiences—but the highs never last. In fact, I spent much of my twenties feeling utterly drained, with no time or inclination to nurture anything truly worthwhile.

There’s an idea that all this “stay up all night, work all day” overindulgence is fine, or even laudable. That’s until the day when we step over the shadowy and undefined line into addiction, and our behavior is suddenly viewed as embarrassing and shameful.

I never came close to this point; in fact, to some of my peers and colleagues, it would have been far weirder and more uncomfortable socially if I were teetotal. But my lifestyle was still undeniably self-destructive.

My own health and well-being fell behind every other consideration, especially my career. Whether it was taking a second job and running myself into the ground in order to keep it all going, or staying up all night at events before getting up for another day of work, it simply didn’t end.

It was when I found myself completely exhausted, yet entirely unable to sleep at 2am on my ex-girlfriend’s couch—thinking of nothing but how my life was going nowhere, and convinced that there was no point left—that I realized things had to change.

Moving Away from Hedonism

I walked for hours that night, feeling like I was at the bottom of a pit full of regret, fear, and bitterness. But the simple action of getting up, getting out, and allowing myself to feel these emotions rather than mask them with my busy non-stop lifestyle was one of the first positive actions I’d taken for months.

It was a dark time, and I still used partying to numb myself to the realities of my life, but a chink of light had been let in. My friends could see I was in trouble, and after they whisked me away for the week, I decided to remove myself from the life I’d created and go to South America for a few months.

I got lucky in the fact that a big record deal finally paid me enough to extricate myself from the music business, but it was a shift in thinking that made me want to do this in the first place.

I learned that when something isn’t working, we can’t be afraid to let it go. Being a success in the music industry was my dream, but I had to acknowledge that this wasn’t a healthy or enjoyable part of my life anymore.

The realization had landed that we need something more meaningful and fulfilling to enjoy our lives than a series of fleeting and artificial highs.

It became ever clearer that success didn’t equate to working all hours and pursuing a unsustainable lifestyle in order to make a broken and inadequate “Plan A” work. I had to figure out why exactly I had chosen to pursue such self-destructive behaviours, and get to the root cause.

Seeing Clearly and Moving Forward

With far less hedonism and hard work to hide my issues, solving my anxiety-induced chronic insomnia became a priority. However, like many people I found myself focusing on the symptoms of my problems, completely unaware of and failing to tackle their hidden source.

I tried herbal sleeping tablets, but was instinctively reluctant to try anything pharmaceutical (which was interesting, considering I’d been so willing to take any number of illegal substances in order to have a good time).

Ear plugs and eye masks made no difference, and it was apparent that, as with my hedonistic life choices, I was simply skimming along the surface of things rather than looking deeper. It was as if there was a patch missing from the roof of my house, and instead of going up and fixing it, I was putting up a leaky umbrella each time it rained.

It was only the chance recommendation from a friend of a friend that led me to Vedic meditation—the technique that changed my life. After my first lesson I slept soundly for the first time in years, and within a few weeks my insomnia had eased entirely.

It was through meditation that I learned about a different kind of hedonism. Years later, I have left my partying days far behind, but live a far more vibrant, creative, and enjoyable life. By swapping late nights for bird song and record deals for teaching, I moved away from self-destruction, and toward self-growth.

Of course, this took a long road of self-discovery (which isn’t over yet!). But I feel there are some pointers which can help people if they’ve found themselves trapped into a similar situation to mine.

Here are three ways to move on from self-destructive behavior.

 1. Allow yourself to learn from the lows.

It’s all too easy, after enduring the depths of a hangover all through Sunday and a drawn-out week at work, to get to Friday night and think the answer to all that sadness and frustration is another night of overindulgence.

I’m not saying this is easy, but instead of relying on your usual route to a good time, make yourself sit with your feelings. Without the (ultimately counterproductive) balm of alcohol and other such substances, you will start to see things as they really are, and work out if there’s anything that needs to change.

2. Switch up your routine and break the cycle.

Getting away from my life in London was a key part of breaking the bad habits that had me repeatedly making bad choices, which did nothing but make me feel worse (as the saying goes, the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result).

It could be something as simple as suggesting to your usual drinking buddies that you try a different, sober activity on a Sunday night, or catching up with friends you haven’t seen in a while rather than sticking with the same crowd.

The important thing is to show yourself the possibility of a different kind of lifestyle, and to build confidence in the fact that you can manage without your usual self-destructive coping mechanisms.

3. Think about what’s driving your behavior and address the root cause.

Hopefully, by taking a step back, you’ll be able to see what compels you to work too hard, party too hard, or indulge in your particular vice (for some people, this could even be over-exercising and obsessing about health).

Perhaps you are a high achiever and have worried yourself into chronic stress and anxiety. Maybe you have low self-esteem, and don’t believe you are worth looking after. Whatever it is, once you are aware of your motivations it is much easier to address them.

For me, the key to becoming a much happier person was meditation, and I thoroughly recommend it in all its various forms. But you may find that it is therapy which helps you most, or simply practicing gratitude. Even the most basic act of keeping a journal each day could make the difference.

Whichever proves to be the most beneficial thing for you, the important thing is dedicating some time to your own self-care. By acknowledging your problems, you give yourself the best chance to fix them.

About Will Williams

Will is a meditation teacher and the founder of London meditation center Will Williams Meditation, committed to helping people live happier lives through the benefits of meditation. His first book, The Effortless Mind, is now available and explores the difficulties of modern life, the inspiring stories of my students and how we can be at our best through life’s challenges.

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