#apologizes again and reiterates his social anxiety :\

[blunderpuff]

not the beloathed homeschool mom (tm) using her nine year old autistic son’s meltdown for sympathy from other moms

[a-tale-never-told]

…This feels like a barely modified version of Mod Bubble’s post he posted just before Christmas about that comic about how you are supposed to cut people off who are too toxic to handle and that comic is actually sending a damage message. To the point it borders on plagiarism. Some of the literal text in the post is completely identical.

//Apologies for the delayed response to this particular ask, but in complete regard to this bold claim, I honestly can't deny it, because that's basically what the entirety of that post was. I'm not going to bother giving myself any justifiable explanation for this, other than I was genuinely hoping to send out an actually helpful response, using the Chrismas post as a template for what I was going to create, but I'd ended up copying it because I seriously didn't know what life-changing advice I could even offer for a situation like this, other than reiterating the same talking points.

//Frankly, it wasn't my intention to directly plagiarize Bubble's work, because that's a clear violation of honest integrity when it comes to creating original content. Rather, I was merely attempting to use his work as an example of how to give meaningful and healthy solutions to real-life issues, and trying to reverse-engineer that valuable message and apply that formula as a prototype for what I was going to originally address, but I must've gotten sidetracked again or forgotten other ways on how I could properly address a damaging topic, and as a result, I accidentally plagiarized the whole thing.

//Perhaps I should have reinstated the vital message of the entire post, which was about gradually overcoming Social Anxiety Disorder and how it negatively affects your mental well-being, isolating those who suffer from social problems from the rest of society, preventing them from interacting with others and creating worthwhile connections, unintentionally harming their social capabilities and such. Instead, I sort of misjudged how the majority of my audience was going to react to this unexpected change of tone for the blog

//Regardless, I hope you all understand that I sincerely meant when I said I wanted to offer truly helpful advice when it comes to addressing real-life issues because I wanna encourage more positivity and kindness in this blog, not just toward other people, but also toward yourselves, and I really want to show that I value your supportive comments tremendously and that I'm not appearing as disingenuous or uncaring about your personal issues and mental wellbeing, because that's not who I am as a person or an individual

//It's just incredibly disappointing and shameful that I had to basically plagiarize another moderator's work which had a considerable amount of time and effort into creating it and addressing a concerning subject, just to plunder it and modify it to make it suitable for my own intentions, even if it was well-intentioned.

[weasleysprincess]

The dragon tattoo

a/n: something I came up with hoping it would get me in the mood to write. just a cute charlie imagine for ya’ll :) shouldn’t be any major warnings besides food mentioned twice, just talks about cooking it. sorry if i missed any

Summary: you start a job as a camp healer in Romania on recommendation letter from St. Mungo’s. A certain redhead tries to win your attention after years outside of school. 

The morning sun was shining through the English rainstorm, rain whipping on the windows.  Rolling over, sighing, it was time for me to finish packing for Romania.  The floor was cold as I stood on the wooden floor, pepper, my three month old kitten was already meowing at me.  “Okay, baby. I’ll feed you”, Pepper stomped her feet on the floor, before climbing up my thighs, “Yes, hi love. I’m getting it”, I winced as the ball of fluff left her nails in me.  Popping a couple pieces of toast in the toaster, grabbing my check list.  Pepper was happily meowing at her bowl, such a sweet girl. 

Everything was packed, pepper was in her carrier with a couple toys, the door was locked.  “Well, Pep it’s time. I promise the dizziness will stop soon enough, sweet baby”, sitting the portkey down.  “Ready?”, I asked. Finally landing in front of the office of the dragon camp, I landed on my feet with everything I packed.  “You must be the new doc? I’m Steve”, a tall blonde man stuck out his hand.  “That’s me, I’m Y/n”, I smiled, shaking his hand.  “I’d watch your kitten, if I was you”, Steve looked at Pepper in her carrier.  “She doesn't leave the house much”, I joked. The kitten was a homebody. “I’ll show you to your cabin”, Steve said, following him. You could hear dragons roaring and flying around as we walked further to the cabin.  A tall redhead held a tiny purple dragon, and looked like it was hurt or sick.  “You’re next to Charlie and Mike”, Steve unlocked the door.  Charlie? Why does that sound familiar?  Steve showed me the cabin and said dinner was in a couple hours.  “Whatdya think Pep? Can we make it home?”, I opened her door.  Pepper sniffed around, taking her toy with her.  Deciding on cleaning the cabin before I made it home.  

I was in the kitchen, when someone knocked on the door.  Opening the door, the same redhead stood with no dragon.  “Yeah?”, I asked.  Where have I seen him?  “Hi, I’m Charlie! Just wanted to say hello and see the face of the new healer”, Charlie smiled.  “Here I am”, I grinned.  Charlie was tall and well built, muscles threatening to pop out of his shirt, piercing blue eyes all complete with curly red hair.  Red hair, could it be him? “Can I ask you something?”, I bit my lip, Pepper meowing.  “Yeah uh?” “Y/n. This is gonna sound crazy, but did we go to school together?”, I asked.  Charlie grinned, “Hogwarts, was in Gryffindor. What about you?”  “Fellow Gryffindor as well”, I laughed.  “How? I never saw you in the common room or anywhere”, Charlie’s eyebrows furrowed.  “I didn’t talk much, had really bad social anxiety. Should have been in Hufflepuff, swear I think the hat made a mistake or was tired of sorting”, I looked down.  Charlie was quiet.  “Charlie?”, I looked up and saw Charlie holding his hand out for Pepper to sniff.  

“Hi there, I’m Charlie”, Charlie smiled as Pepper let him pet her head.  “Uh this is Pepper”, I choked out.  Charlie left as dinner was approaching pretty soon.  I skipped dinner, needing to finish the cleaning and get my bed made.  Getting out of the shower, I threw on a silk set of Pj’s as a knock entered the cabin.  I opened the door, Charlie stood with a couple plates, “Hi Charlie”  “Hi love, uh I brought you some dinner and dessert. Didn’t see you at dinner”, Charlie smiled.  “Thanks, new places and I’m nobody so yeah”, I felt a pang of anxiety as the redhead walked in.  “This okay?”, he asked, sitting the food at the table.  I nodded.  The next morning came quicker than expected.  Walking into the healer’s building, “Ah Y/n! Good morning, I’m Healer Reiter”, Healer Reiter smiled as I approached him.  “We mostly get burns and scratches here, but a broken bone will come occasionally”, Reiter said as he showed me around.  

“Y/L/N, room three.  Burns and a huge gash”, the blonde nurse said, handing me the chart.  “Okay. Alright, Mr. Weasley, I’m- oh hey”, I closed the door.  Charlie was shirtless and stretched out on the bed.  “Wanna tell me what happened?”, I asked looking at his shoulder.  “Give me some burn cream and do a healing spell, I really need to get back out there”, Charlie said.  I cocked an eyebrow at him, “I don’t come to you and tell you how to do your job, don’t do it to me. I ask you a question”, I crossed my arms over my chest.  Charlie sighed, “I’m sorry, just hurt is all. I pissed off the mum putting her baby back, she thought I hurt her baby” I winced, “Mothers tend to protect her kids.  Raise up for me, Charlie” Charlie sat up, I noticed the dragon tattoo and smiled, “Nice tattoo” Charlie chuckled, “Thanks, love. Did it get burnt?”  “No, didn’t leave your left shoulder blade”, I rubbed the cream on his shoulder, grinning at the freckles on his back.  Admiring his muscles and freckles, “Y/n, hey love. You okay back there?”, Charlie asked. “Huh oh yeah. Let me see your gash”, I snapped out of my trance.  Charlie was a beautiful man that made my job hard for twenty minutes.  

The weekend came and Reiter gave a couple days off, it was raining and the wind whipped around.  Pulling on legging and a green sweater, grabbing my boots.  Opening the door, I was met by Charlie’s fist. “Oh love, sorry about that”, Charlie put his hand down, smiling sheepish.  “It’s okay, Charlie. How’s the burn and gash?”, I asked, standing on the porch.  “Good, still sore, but nothing I can’t handle”, Charlie smiled.   I watched the rain fall, a comfortable silence happened.  Charlie cleared his throat, “Yeah?”, I turned to face him.  Charlie was biting his lip, “Do you wanna go to dinner with me sometime?” I took away, “Sure, how soon is sometime?” “Tonight okay with you? I can cook us something”, Charlie smiled. “That’s perfect, Charlie”, I grinned, brushing my hand next to his.  I walked to Charlie’s cabin, dressed in a yellow blouse and jeans. Not sure how casual this was, I hoped it was a date with Charlie. I knocked on the door, “Hi love, you look beautiful, yellow is a good color on you”  “Well hello to you too, you’re full of compliments”, I grinned.  I watched Charlie move around his small kitchen, finishing the food. His back muscles moving around through his shirt, arms bulging.  He bent over getting something out of the oven, Charlie was blessed everywhere, his jeans were tight around his thighs and ass.   I’m a healer, I've seen some nice bodies. And Charlie has a gorgeous body.  “Enjoying the view, doll?”, Charlie smirked.  “Maybe”, I looked him up and down.  Charlie shook his head.  

Dinner was amazing, we talked about family, hobbies outside of work, even Pepper.  “Care if I walk you home?, it’s late”, Charlie asked.  “Not at all, afraid a dragon may kidnap me, Charles?”, I smirked.  Charlie rolled his eyes, “My dragons won’t, but mother did raise a gentleman” Charlie pulled me to his sides.  “I’ll have to thank her one day”, I looked up at him.  Charlie and I stood outside my door.  “Y/n?”, Charlie asked.  “Yes Charlie?”, I turned around, looking up at the redhead. Charlie looked at my lips and up at me again, “Do you mind?” I shook my head as I gently brought him closer to me.  Charlie laid his hands on my waist, thumbs holding my hips in place. Tugging his curly red locks as I felt his tongue on my bottom lips.  “Charlie? There you are!”, a man stood at the railing of my porch.  “Oh sorry mate”  “What is it?”, Charlie turned around, still holding my hips.  “Hydra is worse and her mom won’t do anything”  Charlie sighed, “Go on, Charlie”, I said.  “I’m sorry about this”, Charlie looked down at me.  “It’s your job, now quit apologizing and go help that baby before I go myself”, I stared up at him.  “Aren’t you the new healer? This is a baby dragon, love”, the blond chuckled.  “I am, so what. I take care of sick and injured things”, I sassed.  “Frankie, go on”, Charlie rolled his eyes.  Charlie smiled, “See ya around, doll”, Charlie kissed my cheek.  I watched as the redhead ran to the sick baby.  “Think I’m gonna marry you, Weasley”, I smirked. 

[221bsunsettowers]

Chapter 2: Settle Down, It Will All Be Clear (Tarlos Royal AU)

After the tournament was over, after he'd met eyes with TK, after Carlos thought he had seen the same flash of attraction he was feeling in the Prince's eyes as well, Carlos had been whisked away before even a word could be exchanged between himself and his future husband.

In which both men are handsome and nervous, Paul Strickland is an amazing man-in-waiting and confidant, there is a celebration banquet and a shared dance, and Carlos collapses on the floor.

This is Chapter 2 of my Tarlos Royal AU , The Kingdom Lights Shine Just for Me and You, in which TK is a prince, Carlos is a knight, and Carlos just won TK’s hand in marriage. Chapter 1 can be found here and here . Chapter 2 can also be found here 

Thank you so much for all of your excitement and encouragement about this AU, it makes me feel so inspired and I am having so much fun with it!

Note: A man-in-waiting is "a man who comes from a family of high social standing and who is attached to a royal household".

CW: anxiety and small physical manifestations of anxiety, small description of a character suddenly in pain

Chapter 2: Settle Down, It Will All Be Clear

Carlos ran his hands nervously over his green doublet with gold trim (somehow it fit him perfectly), an action he had repeated more times than he could track. "Is everything all right, my lord?" came a voice behind him, and Carlos could barely stop himself from startling.

After the tournament was over, after he'd met eyes with TK, after Carlos thought he had seen the same flash of attraction he was feeling in the Prince's eyes as well, Carlos had been whisked away before even a word could be exchanged between himself and his future husband. Now he found himself in what he could only assume was his new designated chambers, with man-in-waiting Paul Strickland.

"Please, call me Carlos," Carlos found himself practically pleading. "Everything's just so-it changed so fast-" He cuts himself off, shaking his head, catching the silken fabric of his sleeve in his hand and rubbing it between his fingers.

"I imagine this to be overwhelming," Paul spoke softly, smiling kindly at Carlos.

"It truly is," Carlos sighed, perching on the edge of the ornate desk chair before quickly leaping up, frantically looking down at his trousers to make sure he hadn't creased them.

"You can sit, I promise any wrinkles in your outfit can be fixed before the dinner," Paul assured him, and Carlos gratefully sank back down on the chair.

"Thank you," Carlos sighed again, fidgeting with the fabric of his sleeve, returning to rubbing it between his fingers.

"He does that same gesture," Paul chuckled, gesturing to Carlos' hands.

"What is he like?" Carlos asked, seizing on the opportunity. "Prince TK."

"I think it best you discover that yourself," Paul said gently, straightening out the rest of the garments he had been tending to.

"Of course, my apologies," Carlos said instantly, cheeks turning red. He rested his head in his hands. "I must admit that I have no idea what the proper protocol is for this situation I find myself in."

"He is a good man." Paul spoke softly but reassuringly, running a brush over the pair of shoes that had been selected for Carlos to wear that evening. "I can tell you that. He has always been kind to all of us here in the castle, and to our families, and to his subjects."

"I am glad to know that, my gratitude." Carlos looked up at Paul. "Thank you for your conversation. It...it feels very nice to feel like I know someone here."

"I am glad to help," Paul smiled, as Carlos slid his feet into the shoes. "Many of us here know the difficulty of leaving our families, but I hope you will find, like we have, that we make a family here at this castle as well."

After assisting Carlos, Paul entered TK's chambers. The king had requested, as a personal favor, that Paul look after Carlos as well as the prince for the time being. Paul had immediately acquiesced, his role in the castle one of affection as well as responsibility. His mother and the queen had been childhood friends growing up on neighboring estates, and they had remained in touch. It was an honor for Paul to be selected as the prince's man-in-waiting, a role reserved for a man of high status and noble lineage.

At this point in their lives, while Paul of course continued to assist TK in any and all royal matters, he was also a friend and confidant for the prince. And so he found himself in a familar way, sitting in TK's desk chair, watching as the young royal paced back and forth across the floor, fingers twitching around the fabric of his blue silken sleeve.

"I did not ask for this," TK groaned, rubbing his hands over his face.

"Your father and mother seemed to think it was a good idea," Paul commented, and TK let out a deep sigh, perching on the very edge of his bed, index and middle finger tapping a disjointed rhythm out on his knee.

"I know they are concerned about me," TK admitted softly, head dropping. "I know the havoc Prince Alex brought about was more than they thought I could bear, and they were almost correct."

"Your sadness was palpable," Paul said gently. "We all wish you to be happy again."

"But marriage with a stranger does not seem like the way to happiness," TK said despondently, his fingers tapping faster, his foot now joining in the nervous movement.  Paul crossed over to stand by the bed, and rested a gentle hand on TK's shoulder.

"He is kind," Paul proffered, and TK raised his head, eyes showing a glimmer of hopefulness. "He told me to call him by his first name, showed me respect, apologized for slights he had not even performed. He longs for his family but is resolute in doing right by them. And despite the circumstances, he wishes to know about you." Pointing to TK's sleeve, Paul chuckled. "He even wears the ends of his sleeves bare with anxious rubbing just as you do."

"He is nervous as well?" TK questioned in surprise. "But he seemed so full of confidence during the tournament."

"He is a knight," Paul reminded the prince. "He knows how to fight. But this-" Paul gestured towards the room, to the castle beyond the chamber door. "This is not something he finds easy to understand. It is strange to him, and you are still a stranger." He patted TK on the shoulder before bending down to retrieve TK's discarded pair of shoes. "Perhaps it would be kindness for the both of you if you went through this confusion together."

"Perhaps," TK murmured, not registering that the frantic tapping of his fingers had slowed to a barely perceptible twitch.

"Sir Carlos Reyes, newly-bethrothed of Prince TK Strand," a formal voice called out as Carlos entered the enormous banquet hall, and for a moment Carlos was frozen in absolute panic as what felt like hundreds of pairs of eyes turned to him.

The next moment TK was next to him, the same voice bellowing out "His Highness, Prince TK Strand."

"Just stay beside me," TK murmured under his breath, offering Carlos his arm and a small smile. Nodding, Carlos looped his arm through TK's, echoing back a small smile of his own.

"Thank you," Carlos whispered gratefully as he let TK guide them along their procession to the massive table, taking their places next to the king and queen.

"You fought very well today," Owen spoke, inclining his head in Carlos' direction, and Carlos found himself barely able to force down the sip of wine instead of choking in surprise.

"My thanks, Your Highness," Carlos managed to eke out, and he could hear TK laughing softly beside him. Turning to meet TK's eyes, Carlos couldn't help but smile back as TK's eyes twinkled mischeviously.

"Father, give him a moment to collect himself," TK chided jokingly, and Owen chuckled, nodding his head in acquiescence.

"May I ask where he acquired such skills, or is that also an offense, dear son of mine?" Owen asked, his formal tone from the tournament now changed to one light and teasing, drawing another laugh from TK.

"My father taught me," Carlos responded, unable to keep a smile from gracing his face at just the thought of his family. "He carried dreams of my becoming a knight just as he did." "He must be very proud," Owen said, lifting his goblet in Carlos' direction.

"Thank you, Your Highness," Carlos answered gratefully, raising his goblet in return.

"We shall need to build up to you calling me something more informal, particularly as you are to marry my son," Owen said kindly, and Carlos felt TK stiffen slightly. Taking another sip of wine, Carlos returned his gaze to TK, who had no goblet before him.

"Are you in need of wine?" Carlos asked, and TK shook his head.

"I do not partake any longer," TK mumbled, and while he did not elaborate, Carlos could still see the pain in his eyes. Carlos simply nodded, but did not take another sip, instead discreetly shifting his wine glass out of sight.

As the elaborate meal progressed, toasts were made (Carlos followed TK's example, and nodded graciously instead of raising a goblet in return), and platter after platter of delicious and hearty fare were laid in front of Carlos and TK. Carlos focused on the food in an attempt to forget how many important personages continued to fix their gaze upon him. He responded politely to the repetitive queries made of him, reiterating his lineage and his path to knighthood more times than he could count.

Eventually, Owen and Gwyneth rose from their chairs, and the gathered crowd followed them into the ballroom. As the music struck up, Owen led Gwyneth into the beginning steps of the dance. "Would you feel comfortable joining the dance?" TK asked softly as he resumed his position at Carlos' side. "I do not wish to compel you to do anything you do not wish to."

"That is very considerate of you, your highness," Carlos said softly, performing a low bow.. "A dance would be my honor." Carlos could feel his  heart racing as he extended a hand to TK, who took it in his own. Carlos could feel a rapid fluttering where his own fingers brushed against TK's wrist. Entering the dance, he placed his other hand on the curve of TK's waist, and they slid into the steps.

"TK," TK murmured, just loud enough for Carlos. "If we are to be wed...I would wish us to be more informal with each other." Raising his head, he met Carlos' gaze, cheeks tinted pink. "If you are amenable."

"I am amenable," Carlos responded, heart seeming to tremble in his chest. "Carlos, then."

"Carlos." TK smiled softly, nodding his head. "Thank you."

As the dance ended, TK led Carlos to a quieter section of the ballroom, farther from the musicians. "Would you-" TK began, but the words caught in his throat as he saw Carlos suddenly double over, hands clutching at his stomach, a moan of pain slipping past his trembling lips. Carlos' legs began to give out, but TK reached for him, catching him and gently lowering him to the ground.

"Carlos?" TK asked frantically, hands hurriedly running along Carlos' stomach and sides, searching for some sign of an undiscovered injury, but finding none. He met Carlos' terrified gaze, eyes widing in pain, and TK instinctively grabbed Carlos' fingers between his own, rubbing the back of his bethrothed's hands soothingly as his mind raced with fear.

"Tommy!" TK screamed out, ignoring the guests who had roamed over to see the unexpected dramatics. "Tommy, Nancy, we need a healer!"

If you would like to be added to my Tarlos taglist, just let me know!

@laelipoo @ravens-words @ladytimekiller @buddie-buddie @morganaspendragonss @marceee24 @a-l-ias @bikingthroughhawkins @i-had-bucky @pragmaticoptimist34 @highqualitykhakis @meloingly 

[hyunhour]

right behind you ] [ felix au

a/n: yoohoo! been wanting to write a yandere themed fic for the longest time and finally got around to it. note that i do not condone this sort of behaviour and it certainly isn’t meant to be glamourized. yes, this story isn’t supposed to be all sunshine and rainbows. loosely inspired by “never ever getting rid of me – christopher fitzgerald” this is for fictional purposes only! it doesn’t depict the actuality of my sunshine boy at all!

yandere!felix, barista!hyunjin, barista!reader, unrequited love, obsessive love, toxicity

tw: yandere themes

word count: 2k

walking home alone after midnight had been a common occurrence for you after taking late night shifts at work. maybe you should start taking earlier shifts instead.

—

Your steps were heavy, slugged as you dragged your feet across the concrete path. There was only the sound of the wind howling as it gently caresses you, accompanied by the music softly playing from your earphones.

The streets were dimly lit, only neon lights of pubs being a reliable source of light. All the stores that lined the pavement were closes, shutters locked shut. There was not a single soul in sight, besides yours of course. It felt lonely, but comforting, the tranquility of the serene night enveloping you in a newfound safety.

« Shuffle, shuffle. »

More shuffling.

You quickened your pace. You were dubious about whether those footsteps were yours, but they weren’t matching with yours at all.

So, you’re not alone after all.

Anxiety washed over you, goosebumps prickling at the surface of your skin. You no longer felt the peace that the night held you in, only fear and panic surging from within you. Perhaps, you were overreacting. It could very well be a passer-by, just wanting to hurry back home, like you.

You shrugged off your doubts momentarily, warranting yourself a bit of relief. Right, you are probably overreacting.

But, just to be sure. You took a sharp left turn on your heels, opposite from the usual route you took home. Just as you thought, the footsteps trailed behind you. They were slow and steady, as if it was mocking you. You could just turn, it was right behind you.

Your hands stiffened in the pockets of your jacket, gathering sweat in your palms. You know that the way down this road was going to be to your old elementary school, otherwise known as a dead end. This person had to stop sooner or later at one of the houses scattered around the area. That had to be it. You’re overthinking this all.

« Shuffle. Shuffle. »

It had been a good five minutes of you walking down this pathway. This person is still hot on your trail, close enough for you to hear them but far away enough for them to.. to?

You’re overthinking. Overreacting. Over–

“Hah,”

That wasn’t you. Your lips were firmly pressed into a tight line, which made it harder for you to breathe in the cold weather. The only sounds escaping from you was the light wheezing of your lungs from your ragged breathing.

Your legs were losing vigour, instead they were shaking. Your stomach felt knotted, the deepening anxiety further tightening it. The inky darkness of the night no longer felt welcoming, instead it began to engulf you. You felt the invisible walls closing in on you as the footsteps behind you, got closer, and closer.

Right behind you.

Just turn.

Turn and see it.

Finally, mustering all the bits of bravery inside of you, your steps came to a halt. You had to be sure. This was the only way.

The footsteps had stopped as well.

Dread twisted in your gut as you turned around, painfully slow.

Within a blink of an eye, a dark figure that you couldn’t quite make out from the lack of light, sped off to the alley right around the corner. It was quick, and it almost made you doubt yourself, that you even saw it in the first place.

All your self-doubts dissolved immediately once you noticed something had actually fallen out of the person’s hold. It flayed around helplessly in the light breeze on the concrete path. It was a handkerchief, a pale cream coloured one, delicate to the touch. Your hands briefly hovering above, before retrieving it.

Your eyes scanned the foreign object, your fingers just ghosting along the seam lines. Down the handkerchief, your finger continued to trail.

« F.L »

Were those initials? They had been sewed on in a garish red thread, completely in contrast with the cream coloured cloth.

You slipped it into your pocket without thinking much of it, your mind was clouded with pride, the fact that you were actually able to ward off the creep.

—

It has been a day since that odd incident.

Hyunjin was busying himself with making the drinks, avoiding the cashier at all costs in order to dodge the multiple girls that lined up just for him. You laughed silently to yourself as yet another girl approached you, the cashier, for Hyunjin’s help instead.

“Sorry bub, he’s busy right now.” you meekly apologized, a faint smile plastered onto your face.

The girl before you whined, her eyes glued onto Hyunjin, who was at the back of the counter. He sneered, he lost count of how many times you had to say that fixated reply to almost every customer. He almost felt bad for you.

You finished tending to all the customers, immediately scurrying over to Hyunjin to help him out with making the drinks. You were adjusting the apron around your body before Hyunjin holds an arm out in front of you.

“Don’t.” he pauses briefly, “your coffee is fucking bitter.”

Your lips part apart in shock, smacking him at his arm. He winces in pain before retracting himself and scoffing.

“I’m trying, okay?” you roll your eyes at him, not amused at his usual bluntness. He reiterates you in a mocking way, rolling his eyes in return as well.

“Where the fuck is your nametag?” he stares down at your breast pocket, where sure enough, it was empty. You were hoping that he wouldn’t realize about your missing nametag, which you left at home. “Stop cussing at work, you asshole. I promise to bring it tomorrow,” you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Are you kidding me? You had like, one job–“ he berated, a string of incoherent words mumbled under his breath. You just couldn’t be bothered to even listen to his nagging anymore, thus putting on a deaf ear and just nodding your head to whatever words he relentlessly spewed out. “I swear your nametag spends more time at home than at work. You’re lucky, boss doesn’t know.” he remarked, causing you to grunt in response.

“Boss doesn’t care, thus boss will never know.” you smirked smugly at him, before distancing yourself from him as he flings a couple more vulgar insults at your face.

You had recently just started working as a barista, after Hyunjin pestered you about being lonely at work. It was another impulsive decision that Hyunjin easily manipulated you into taking without ever doing a double take. How could you resist when he pulled out those puppy dog eyes and pouty lips? Annoying fuck.

The bell against the front door chimed, a clear indication that a new customer had just stepped foot.

“Welcome!” both you and Hyunjin greeted, softly laughing at each other because of the unplanned perfect timing.

You were ready to receive another order, probably from another hormonal teenage girl that was ready to pounce on Hyunjin.

Boy, you were wrong.

It was a man. A very beautiful man at that. He stood at the door, soft eyes meeting your tentative ones. He sweeps his silver tresses back with his hand, before offering you one of the most gingerly-looking smiles. Your heart fluttered at the enticing sight. He didn’t go straight for the cashier. His eyes darted from the menu that was on the wall behind you, and then back to you, shyly avoiding your eyes now. What happened to that confidence he strutted in with?

He lingered at the entrance for a while, taking hesitant steps as he ventures further in to the café. You had gotten tired of waiting around for him, so you decided to help out Hyunjin—this time with refilling the coffee beans into the hopper. He so stubbornly insisted upon you not making any drinks until he could properly guide you, which would be after the store closes.

“That dude is iffy,” Hyunjin mumbles under his breath, briefly turning to face the entrance of the store, and then back to you.

“Iffy? Yeah, you.” you mock, and he nudges your arm a little too hard.

“I’m serious, Y/N.” he says, before leaning down to your ear, “he keeps looking at you, and like– salivating? Not over the food, but you.” You follow him, and sure enough, the silver-haired man had been staring right back at you unabashedly before looking away moments later. “Of all things.. you?” he reiterates, putting his finger on his chin, as if deep in thought.

You almost choke at his choice of words, caught off guard by his bluntness yet again. You pinch his arm, earning a whimper from him before he returns the same pinch onto your arm, if not more painful.

“Fuck you.” you hiss under your breath, pulling away.

“I was being a nice friend, looking out for you.” he hisses in return. You and Hyunjin both bicker for a while, causing you to spill some coffee beans onto the countertop, earning another earful from Hyunjin. God, he wasn’t even the manager but he sure was niggling like one.

“May I..” a voice from a distance interrupted your bickering, and you were almost thankful for it. You stick your tongue out at Hyunjin playfully before tending to the cashier.

“Yes! How may I help you?” maybe you were a little too excited, the poor boy in front of you jumping a little, obviously surprised at your gleefulness. It was the same person that had been standing around the entrance of the café, he was also always picking at the bed of his nails with his teeth, a habit that you noticed from just a few moments of looking at him. You felt an inkling of pity for this boy.

“I’d–” he choked on his words, his cheeks reddening. You chuckled softly, this kid probably has some major social anxiety. It wasn’t new to you to receive shy customers.

“It’s okay.” you motioned for him to continue, nodding your head. His eyes locked with yours briefly, a glow of light circled around his pupils momentarily, sparse freckles adorned his pale face as he chewed incessantly on the bottom of his lip. Out of anxiety, probably.

You had to break away the eye contact, feeling tense under his watchful eyes. It had gotten a bit uncomfortable with him doing more of staring than talking. This wasn’t normal.

“I’d like..” he resumes, sucking in a deep breath, “a medium vanilla frappe.” the sides of his lips tug upwards tremulously, and his eyes begin to waver.

“That’ll be $6!” you chirped, trying to coat the awkwardness within you with glee instead. He nodded, his hands frantically fishing for change in his pockets.

You open your palm up to him, not losing notice of the way he stares at it. His eyes linger for a moment before placing his money onto your palm, his fingertips just barely grazing the surface of your skin. It all went by painfully slow. You sighed, retracting your hand. He, however, seemed a lot more happier than before. His eyes glistening still at the newfound physical interaction, although small; it was still something. A wide smile crept up onto his face.

Brushing it all off, you returned his change by sliding it over the counter. Usually, you wouldn’t be that rude but this customer particularly did actually feel iffy as per Hyunjin’s words. You took in his smile that disappeared, a solemn frown in place instead on his freckled face.

“Your name, Sir?” you questioned, readying a plastic cup and a permanent marker. He cleared his throat, “Felix.”

“Felix Lee.”

You could’ve sworn your heart had stopped beating for a moment. Moments of the previous night flickered on and off in your head, whizzing by quickly before you could even comprehend what you had just realized.

« F.L »

Felix Lee.

“I’ll be waiting, Y/N.” he coos, before backing away from you. His words, his tone and the volume of his already low voice, letting goosebumps bubbling to the surface of your skin. The familiar feeling of anxiousness washing over you once again, fear having a grip on your throat, causing you to have the inability to even interrogate him.

When did you tell him your name? Right, it must be from your nametag–

Your nametag?

Your finger ghosted over the bare breast pocket of your apron, no nametag pinned onto it. You recall only remembering your nametag once, which was your first day of work. Other than that, it was stuck at home.

This all had to be some sort of sick, sick coincidence.

[kaypeace21]

Jonathan Byers (For your character questions Ask)

favorite thing about them

He’s incredibly caring and selfless to his family. He’s extremely devoted to Will and Joyce (frankly taking on more than such a young guy should have to). At 17 he’s discussing helping pay for his mom’s mortgage . Then of course, Jonathan is a surrogate dad to Will in a lot of respects. In s1 it’s cannon that he cooks breakfast for Will, wakes him up, drives him places, works extra shifts to pay the house bills. Gives Will coded pep-talks about his sexuality. And sometimes calls Will (coded fatherly nicknames that dads give their kids)- like “kid, buddy, pal, and sport”. He’s paralleled to all the ST mom’s taking pics of their kids in their ghost busters costumes, as well. I love Jonathan. He pretty much sacrificed his entire childhood to be the father figure for Will, that Lonnie wasn’t. He did all of this since he wanted Will to have more than he did (aka a Dad).Jonathan  in s1 even said in the past Joyce had “anxiety issues”. And tells Joyce, “This is not an okay time for you to shut down,” implying there has been times when she has shut down, and left him with the  burden of caring for Will and herself .  Joyce even apologizes in s1 for not being there for him as a kid ( cause she was too busy working). Many s4 movies emphasize Jonathan’s devotion to Will and knowledge that he sacrificed his childhood to do so .

least favorite thing about them

He constantly think he’s inadequate and often refuses help. Calling himself a “weirdo”.  Not telling Joyce of the supernatural threat cause “she’s been through enough”. And constantly apologizing for not being there for Will- and blaming himself for what’s happened to him. 

Like joyce said “you act like you’re all alone in this world. But you’re not!” And Bob reiterates his trust issues saying “I’m really getting through to them- well except Jonathan he’s a tough cookie to crack.” Murray also parrots this saying “trust issues, am I right? Something to do with your dad.”  Jonathan has severe trust issues and I hope he heals from that .

favorite line

"You shouldn't like things because people tell you you're supposed to.”

brOTP

Obviously - my brOTP is Jonathan and Will.

OTP

Don’t really have 1. I used to ship jancy (still wasn’t fond of the camera incident though). I like jonathan and nancy but after s3 I think they may be better off not together . I like both but I think maybe they’re not the best fit together.

nOTP

if we’re talking about popular st ships of him like Jancy and I guess... stoncy & steve/jon? I’m mostly indifferent. I feel like nOTP’s are more vitriolic. 

But I just feel like Jancy isn’t right for each other, in the long run.Nancy only apologized for claiming Jon was sexist but not for making fun of him for being poor and his dad leaving -calling him “oliver twist” (a poor orphan). Which clearly pissed him off since when he talked to her on the phone later he did a clap back referencing the book saying he was with ‘Fagin and the gang’. Which is similar to Mike apologizing for being ‘jealous of Max’ but not for the fact he lied (the reason for the breakup in the first place). The fact Nancy says “here comes the Oliver Twist routine AGAIN”. Implies Jonathan has tried to open up to her in the past but she dismissed it as just bellyaching. I just can’t really get over that.  I don’t think either was completely in the right though. I talked about all the pairings (including jancy) and their parallels to other ships, in way more detail- here and why I don’t see them as endgame.

random headcanon

- Since Nancy says in s2  Jonathan likes reading Vonnegut. I think it may reflects a lot about Jonathan!

Vonnegut like Jonathan was born in Indiana- like jonathan.He was an atheist and a humanist and served as the honorary president of the American Humanist Association.Some quotes by him:  “I am a humanist, which means, in part, that I have tried to behave decently without expectations of rewards or punishments after I am dead...  purpose of human life, no matter who is controlling it, is to love whoever is around to be loved.”

A lot of his books critique society in a scifi form.

- In Breakfast of Champions (1973), Vonnegut vows to “clear [his] head of all the junk,” and race and racism are at the top of his list of “junk” to be cleared.  In the book he critiques colonialism, and institutional and social racism predominantly focusing on the mistreatment of black people. “I think I am trying to clear my head of all the junk in there...I suspect that this is something most white Americans, and nonwhite Americans who imitate white Americans, should do. The things other people have put into my head, at any rate, do not fit together nicely, are often useless and ugly, are out of proportion with one another, are out of proportion with life as it really is outside my head.”

-  Slaughter house 5 (1972) was based on his own experiences as a  ww2 soldier. “It sees war as a tragedy so great that perhaps only the mask of comedy allows one to look it in the eye. Vonnegut is a sad-faced comedian.  The book says Billy may be hallucinating about his experiences with the Tralfamadorians as a way to escape a world destroyed by war—a world that he cannot understand ( heavy Will foreshadowing). Even while Vonnegut admits the inevitability of death, with or without war, he also tells us that he has instructed his sons not to participate in massacres or in the manufacture of machinery used to carry them out”. The phrase “so it goes” represented the deep sadness and resignation to death- appearing with almost every death in the novel. This phrase become a popular mantra in the Anti-vietnam war movement.Mr. Vonnegut wrote at the end of the book, “was shot two nights ago. He died last night. So it goes. Martin Luther King was shot a month ago. He died, too. So it goes. And every day my Government gives me a count of corpses created by military science in Vietnam. So it goes.”

- In a letter from 1965, he also recommended a novel to his wife. ‘here is a really lovely book about it in my study -- on a top shelf. It's red, and it's called The ABZ of Love." “Indeed, the book was in many ways ahead of its time and of the era's mainstream, pushing hard against bigotry and advocating for racial, gender, and LGBT equality with equal parts earnestness and wry wit.”

-his novels also had a lot of gay characters and this caused a lot of controversy at the time.

Reflecting  how he’ll probably be supportive of Will-  which was foreshadowed in s1 when he was encouraging Will not to behave a certain way cause his homophobic dad wants him to.

unpopular opinion

probably Jancy not being endgame

song i associate with them

-’should I stay or should i go’ . obvious cliche choice, i know.

favorite picture of them

Hmm... I’m not sure. I just find Jonathan & will exchanging looks with each other and laughing precious.

[pullingthroughthefog]

Finally worked up the strength and the introspect to do this. I have been needing to put pen to paper for so long, and somehow I have continued to avoid it for more than 2 years. 2 years of silently suffering through what has been the biggest personal crisis in my life thus far. I am 34 years old. I was 32 when my husband made the decision to have an emotional affair. At that point, we had been married for 2 years only, and had a 1 year old daughter. Barely.  Our love story is a classic one. We knew each other for years, but both had different partners. And again. And again. Until one time we both found ourselves single and we instantly got together. It was crazy and passionate and fantastic. We were together for a year when we popped the question, and almost 2 years after that, we got married. 3 Months after our wedding, I became pregnant with our daughter. 

My pregnancy was a tough one. I didn’t particularly enjoy it, I had a lot of aches, I gained an enormous amount of weight, and I was supremely unhappy. Tie that to a shitty birthing experience, and being severely sleep-starved for the first couple of months after having her, we were definitely going through our first crisis as a married couple. I certainly was on a personal level. I was not able to cope with night wakeups and feeds after spending the entire day looking after my crying colicky baby. I was destroyed. My husband recognized this, and soon took over all the night duties relating to our baby, and then catching up on his sleep in the wee morning hours when I would get up with the little one. Then he would go to work. And rinse and repeat. This went on for months. I’m not sure how many. 4-6 months. 

I hated being on maternity leave. I took care of my baby’s needs and made sure she was well-fed, diapered and never needed for anything, but I was restless. I absolutely loathed being at home, never getting the opportunity to take a shower, to decompress, to be just by myself without having to constantly put another persons needs over my own. Being selfish and ego-centered for so many years beforehand doesn’t exactly leave you with the best foundation to suddenly become another person’s servant 24/7. My needs were non existent. Well that’s not true. My needs were many, but in the grand scheme of things, they didn’t matter.

In the weekends though, we thrived. Taking shifts to be with the little one, spending family time together, going out for walks, taking her with us to the café. Everything was working in the weekends, and it was a huge weight off my shoulders. It reminded me of what we could be, and who we were, aside from the people who incessantly kept track of whose turn it was to suffer with a baby related issue, and how unfair certain things were to each of us. Having a baby makes you a nitpicky monster, and keeping score was number one activity.

When we were nearing the end of my maternity leave which lasted for 9 months, my husband was supposed to take over for 8 weeks. He would start the baby in daycare, and get her used to being there little by little, while also taking time to get to know his daughter, outside of the two hours they got to spend together before her bedtime every day.

I was happy to be back at work. I thrived. I enjoyed being back in the swing of things, washing my hair, putting on makeup and having a sense of purpose. I know that having children for a lot of people is THE biggest sense of purpose, and I guess I can agree to that post the baby stage, but back then, I was just happy to be of service in real world-  where it mattered. I felt like my entire quality of life improved, and I felt my relationship with my husband take a turn for the better as well.

One day when I came home from work, my husband’s phone was on the sofa. He was in the next room changing the baby. A text ticked in from someone called Sara. It said “are you ready to trade in the older model for a new wife”. 

I was absolutely astonished. I showed my husband, and asked him what this was about. He instantly said it was a joke with a co-worker and it meant nothing. He promised that was the end of those conversations, he was going to be appropriate with his colleagues, and that he cherished and appreciated me and our life far too much to ever risk anything.

I made him call her, with me present but without mentioning I was there. He called. And said the reason he was calling was to tell her that, just in case there were any misunderstandings, he wanted her to know that there is nothing between them, they are just colleagues, and they will stay that way. She was hesitant and awkward. She knew i was listening in on it. She said “of course not, I understand”, and they ended the call. 

This was supposed to be the end of it. We decided to shelf it, and that he was going to make better judgements in the future. I decided that he was innocent, but this young girl might have gotten mixed signals, which was an issue, and his problem to correct, which he had done. He went on his knees and promised to never put me in a position to doubt his love and loyalty to our relationship again. 

A few days after, it was my husband’s birthday. I had ordered him a very expensive watch, even against my better judgment from the discovery a few days later. It was the type of expensive that you could buy a car for. 

 I wanted to thank him for being such a great support during my maternity leave, and I knew this watch was something he had dreamed of. He was very happy and I felt even more thrilled and privileged that I was able to buy it for him.

That evening, when the baby was asleep, and we were sitting on the balcony eating dinner, all hell broke loose. He put his phone down on the table, and a Snapchat from Sara rolled in. I was fuming. He continue to reiterate that it was nothing to worry about, just friendly conversations, which completely set me off. We had just agreed to NO private contact with any female coworkers in his off time, and here were were again. He deleted her from Snapchat immediately. Probably as a way to save face, without having to show me their conversation, but he presented it as a favor to me.

Instantly, she messaged him on facebook messenger asking why he had deleted her on snapchat. This raised more flags for me. Why did she notice so quickly that he had deleted her? Was it because she was spending enormous amounts of time writing him? You could delete me off of any social media, and I promise you that unless you are a very close friend, I wouldn’t notice. Years could go by, and I’d be none the wiser. I asked him to give me his phone. I was not backing down. I wanted to get to the bottom of this. He was hesitant and fought me on it, which only spurred me on more. Why was he denying it? Surely he had nothing to hide if she was just a co-worker. He had been diligent on deleting texts, so I went into his work email, and searched for her name.

My heart broke. He was anxiously sitting opposite from me while I had his phone, and looking for any reaction I might have. I tried to hide my facial reactions, while I took all the instant messaging records, and sent them to myself on email to read. I knew it was only a matter of time before he took his phone back out of sheer anxiety and fear. I was right. He took his phone back before I could finish reading and sending everything, in fact I think I only saw a fraction. 

Sara and my husband had been IM’ing each other intimately for weeks. While he was still at work, and after he went on parental leave as well. They were extremely flirty. She was asking him about his wife. He was telling her that we weren’t going to last. That we were only together for the baby. He was asking her to come sit by him in the office. She was asking him to accompany her to parties and concerts. She was confiding in him about personal matters. And he was throwing me under the bus, for this 21 year old intern at his job, where he was a manager and a person who should behave much better than this. 

I was absolutely heartbroken. I read everything through, and completely fell apart. My husband was sitting in the living room, just watching me cry and turn into a shell of a human being. I was weeping. Screaming, Absolutely gut wrenching pain and experiencing the feeling of being stabbed in my heart. He wasn’t going to talk until I calmed down, so he just sat there, listening to me sob and cry until I didn’t have a single tear left.  What completely broke me, was the realization that they day after his birthday, the very morning after we had “solved everything” and he has apologized to me, sincerely, on his knees, he had taken our daughter to daycare, and called her right after. I knew this, because in the messages, he was telling her that another coworker had overheard him talking to her on the car speaker system, and had asked him what that was about. 

I can’t explain how crushing it is to realize that your doting, loving husband is not only having an emotional affair, but he also had the audacity and the heart to promise me that it was NEVER going to happen again, only for it to have happened again, the very next day as soon as he stepped out of the house.

What followed is a long period of sorrow, feeling of loss, emptiness, feeling of despair, anger, complete humiliation and desire to end my marriage, but neither having the strength or the willingness to do so.

2 years after, we are still married. Our marriage has developed into something so broken and awful, that I’ve recently had to look  in the mirror and ask myself where I had gone wrong. Because make no mistake, my husband is the one who screwed up a loving home, but what followed and what has transpired in the 2 years after, is just as much my fault. This is the first time I have found the courage to face myself, and to accept that I also have a huge part to play in the destruction of my marriage in recent years. What was meant to be a period of rebuilding trust and love, has been nothing but a struggle and a mission impossible on both ends. And from where I am standing, this is a last ditch resort at salvaging our marriage and our relationship, or finally coming to accept what is irretrievably broken and finding the courage within me to walk away. 

I will recount the following time in later entries. 

[alixofagnia]

OpheThorn II: A Slightly Less Rambling Analysis

The Missing of Clairdelune is a superb second installment in The Mirror Visitor quartet. We get more of what we loved about the first book, more pieces to the larger existential puzzle, yet it smartly stops short of resolving too much so that we stay invested for the third episode. Christelle Dabos allows herself slightly more exposition. But the novel really succeeds by continuing to follow the less-is-more mantra and the showing vs. telling style.

As you may or may not recall, after I finished A Winter’s Promise, I spent an embarrassing amount of time copy/pasting excerpts from this book into Google Translate with the result that I really did spoil a lot of the OpheThorn parts for myself—which I don’t exactly regret. But, essentially, it left me with a bit less to say. I had a good response to my first OpheThorn analysis (it’s here and thank you for all the kind words), so I did think that I’d like to put something out about Clairdelune as well, I just wasn’t sure what. After some consideration (and a re-read), I do have some more thoughts about OpheThorn.

So, here we go.

[Spoilers included this time]

[All fanart images credited to @patricialyfoung]

Intro

Since Clairdelune begins right where Promise concluded, Ophelia is still pissed at Thorn, while Thorn is still pining for Ophelia albeit in his uniquely aloof way. The only real thing that’s made me scratch my head with them is the severity of Ophelia’s anger/resentment over Thorn having withheld his true ambitions from her and her finding out about them from someone else. I just think it’s a little bit of a weak conflict for them given how pragmatic they are. I get that it’s the culmination of a frustrating situation. But I still think it’s weak.

So, once again the two begin on shaky ground, a space they occupy for the bulk of the novel. They are, at least, together a bit more than before and there’s all sorts of lovely tension, mostly caused by Thorn’s inelegant method of wooing compounded by Ophelia’s stubborn refusal to give him an inch. Thorn’s growing feelings for Ophelia were subtly hinted at in Promise and they become more apparent here, particularly when juxtaposed against Ophelia’s stubborn denial of hers for him.

And I just adore the cover art! Don’t you?

Thorn and Autism Spectrum Disorder

This is what I want to discuss. I may be alone in this, but it seems like Thorn could be coded as having autism spectrum disorder (ASD). It occurred to me while I was reading Promise and this time around, I feel comfortable in taking that perspective on Thorn. I like the notion of applying an ASD reading to his character because it explains a few descriptive quirks and makes him more than a “weirdo” or “freak”, which is reductive labeling. When considering his interactions with other characters and their reactions to him, this reading lends an added layer to his actions and overall development.

But let me make something clear.

This book isn’t about ASD, so I’m not suggesting that Dabos intended to write Thorn as having ASD or is trying to make a statement in any way on the disorder, and I’m cautious about how I use this idea to understand the character. This is purely my own speculation/take on the character.

I also want to be clear that I don’t have any personal experience with the disorder. I’ve met people with autism and ASD and they were all very different from each other and had very different needs. So, I’m largely making connections with textbook examples of ASD and they’re maybe a little bit broad because as I said it isn’t explicitly made clear that Thorn has ASD. I may very likely err in my understanding of this disorder. If that’s the case, I apologize in advance and please do correct me or give me your own opinion on this idea.

Here’s an overview from the webpage of the national institute of mental health:

Autism spectrum disorder (ASD) is a developmental disorder that affects communication and behavior. Although autism can be diagnosed at any age, it is said to be a “developmental disorder” because symptoms generally appear in the first two years of life. According to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5), a guide created by the American Psychiatric Association used to diagnose mental disorders, people with ASD have:

Difficulty with communication and interaction with other people

Restricted interests and repetitive behaviors

Symptoms that hurt the person’s ability to function properly in school, work, and other areas of life

Autism is known as a “spectrum” disorder because there is wide variation in the type and severity of symptoms people experience. Although ASD can be a lifelong disorder, treatments and services can improve a person’s symptoms and ability to function.

It’s been shown repeatedly that it’s very difficult for Thorn to be an inviting and easy-going person, even with people he cares about. Thorn struggles with  communication, is emotionally suppressed, is both uncaring and at times completely unaware of how he presents himself socially, and obsessively consults his pocket watch, particularly when he’s at a loss for words or bored, or otherwise ready to get the hell out of any situation that causes him anxiety. He’s highly intelligent, fixated on order and organization, and has a history (as we know from Promise and learn more about in Clairdelune) of meeting intense emotion with impulsive violence.

Here’s a list (also from the NIMH website) of common symptoms:

Making little or inconsistent eye contact

Tending not to look at or listen to people

Rarely sharing enjoyment of objects or activities by pointing or showing things to others

Failing to, or being slow to, respond to someone calling their name or to other verbal attempts to gain attention

Having difficulties with the back and forth of conversation

Often talking at length about a favorite subject without noticing that others are not interested or without giving others a chance to respond

Having facial expressions, movements, and gestures that do not match what is being said

Having an unusual tone of voice that may sound sing-song or flat and robot-like

Having trouble understanding another person’s point of view or being unable to predict or understand other people’s actions

Repeating certain behaviors or having unusual behaviors. For example, repeating words or phrases, a behavior called echolalia

Having a lasting intense interest in certain topics, such as numbers, details, or facts

Having overly focused interests, such as with moving objects or parts of objects

Getting upset by slight changes in a routine

Being more or less sensitive than other people to sensory input, such as light, noise, clothing, or temperature

People with ASD may also experience sleep problems and irritability. Although people with ASD experience many challenges, they may also have many strengths including:

Being able to learn things in detail and remember information for long periods of time

Being strong visual and auditory learners

Excelling in math, science, music, or art

One can’t help but notice that we can check several of these points off for Thorn. Not all, certainly, but I’m sure you can call to mind some of your own examples of him exhibiting many of these behaviors repeatedly.

Where Does Ophelia Fit In?

Thorn has always treated his relationship with Ophelia in a very business-like manner, almost like a negotiation, which makes sense within the context of an arranged marriage. At the novel’s start, Thorn wishes to make amends, but Ophelia makes it very clear that she will not forgive him for his lies and neglect. His response to her is rather clinical.

“We simply can’t allow ourselves to be enemies,” cut in Thorn. “You’re making my life difficult with your resentment; it’s imperative that we become reconciled. […] Meet me at the Treasury, insult me, slap me, smash a plate over my head if you feel like it, and then let’s never speak of it again. Name your day. This Thursday would suit me.” [65]

I suppose this is a rather annoying response, especially if one is really just looking for a simple and genuine apology. But if we read Thorn as having ASD, then this feels a little different. He’s simplifying a conflict that he maybe doesn’t quite understand; he’s been given a different perspective on his actions and it’s perhaps beyond his capability to comprehend. To compensate, he turns this into a matter of business, which is something he can understand quite well, even going so far as to try and pencil Ophelia into his calendar. But he’s woefully unaware of the frustrating effect his language and tone have on her. Of course, what’s key here is what he isn’t saying: that she’s making his life difficult because he loves her; he wants to be on good terms, but doesn’t know how to fix this. Note that he again suggests violence as a means to deal with her emotion.

When they do meet up, Thorn says, 

“I have many enemies. I no longer want to count you among them, so tell me what I must do. That is why you came here, isn’t it? You have a deal to offer me, I’m listening to you.” [152]

He’s desperate. It’s also worth noting that he’s fairly vulnerable in this chapter; he exhibits jealousy and some hurt—Ophelia missed their original appointment because she was with Archibald and forgot about him. 

Modest as always, Ophelia asks only for a job, money to pay Fox, her new assistant, and to see the real outdoors again. She lastly requests that he always be honest with her, especially in matters that directly concern her. In exchange, she will teach him how to Read objects after the ceremony of the Gift and he will teach her how to use the claws that he’ll pass to her. She also reiterates, for good measure, that this will be their only conjugal duty. He grants the first three readily enough, but the fourth one trips him up. He does agree to it, but it’s obvious that it will cost him in more ways than one.

While I imagine that he’s receptive on some level to sexual intimacy with Ophelia, I think he’s more afraid of intimacy in general. Sharing things and being honest with a partner means opening oneself up to vulnerability, to weakness. The undertaking he’s set for himself—a mission he’s already devoted 15 years of his life to—doesn’t allow for that kind of intimacy; rather, it requires utmost resiliency, secrecy, and focus. Furthermore, if he were to be seen forming loving attachments (with Berenilde, Ophelia, or anyone else), then that could be turned against him over the course of fulfilling his risky endeavor. It’s that very fear, in fact, which has made him exclude his aunt (and attempt to exclude Ophelia) entirely from his investigation. His pursuit of a noble title and legitimacy is a front, an easy excuse he thought up to satisfy Berenilde’s and the court’s curiosity about why he suddenly wanted to get married and Read Farouk’s Book.

Like Thorn, it scares Ophelia to feel herself falling in love. Perhaps the womanly pride she carries with her makes it difficult for her to open up. After all, love and marriage were never apparently high on her list of things to accomplish either. Ophelia and Thorn are separately dealing with the same conundrum, which is that to love means to fear, and that’s messy. It could get in the way of a life that is humble (Ophelia) and a life that is ambitious (Thorn). Simply put, neither one had accounted for even the possibility of love in their marriage.

Perhaps because Ophelia is a Reader, I think that deep down she likes the enigma and challenge that is Thorn. Yes, he’s frustrating, but she never truly loses interest in him. Indeed, if anything, she becomes increasingly intrigued and is entirely won over when she at last learns all about what he’s doing. Ophelia is very likely the first person to make Thorn both confront and attempt to correct his inadequacy in areas of intimacy. As I touched on in my previous analysis, Ophelia calling Thorn out on his behavior and habits is surely a novelty for him.

“I believe neither in luck nor in destiny,” he declared. “I trust only the science of probabilities. I have studied mathematical statistics, combinatorial analysis, mass function, and random variables, and they have never held any surprises for me. You don’t seem fully to grasp the destabilizing effect that someone like you can have on someone like me.” [377]

Ohhhhkay. 

It turns out, she’s a bit of an enigma and definitely a challenge to him in kind. This is Thorn’s way of trying to tell Ophelia that he loves her. 

Thorn and Ophelia seek control and wield it differently. Thorn can be arrogant and overconfident with it, and he wants to be its sole retainer. Ophelia also wants to retain it but as it pertains to her decisions for herself, and she rebels against it when she feels like that’s being taken away from her. It’s important to them that they are in control of their own actions and destinies. But what neither one of them understands is that those we end up loving is often (or maybe always) outside of our control. Love has no explanation, and doesn’t require one. You can’t predict it. You can’t dictate it. You can’t calculate it or quantify it.

Ophelia seriously turns Thorn’s life, and everything he thought he could predict or control about it, upside down. Initially unwittingly, then actively, she encourages him to develop.

ASD Made Sexy

As inelegant as he is, Thorn does have his own way of being shocking:

“You wanted me to be honest with you. You will thus learn that you are not just a pair of hands for me. And I don’t give a damn whether people find me suspect, as long as I am not so in your eyes. You will return this to me when I have kept all my promises,” he grumbled, holding his watch out to Ophelia without noticing her stunned expression. “And if you still doubt me in the future, just read it.” [156].

You guys, this is kind of romantic, right? He’s so direct and it really flusters Ophelia, who is steadfastly resisting the decidedly non-business-like turn their relationship has taken. Skip to novel’s end, however, and she has totally changed her tune about Thorn. Right before they believe they will be parted forever, Thorn finally gives a straightforward confirmation of his feelings.

“Don’t go falling down any more stairs, avoid sharp objects, and above all, above all, keep away from disreputable people, alright? […] Oh, and by the way, I love you.” [486]

Swoon. 

The fact of the matter is this: despite his unconventional looks and mannerisms, Thorn hits a certain level of sexy. Which begs the question: Can ASD be sexy? Sure, one could say that his sex appeal comes naturally with his role as the male lead, which is directly connected to his chemistry with the female lead. But I think there’s actually an important distinction to be made; it’s not whether ASD itself is sexy, it’s whether a character with ASD is sexy and I think that’s important because you don’t want ASD to be treated as a gimmick in fiction. It matters how that kind of character is presented. 

Thorn’s ASD traits make him eccentric at best and a “freak” at worst, by Ophelia’s own description. Some of Thorn’s less offensive eccentricities are portrayed in an endearing light: his brusqueness with silly persons (i.e. Archibald, Baron Melchior) and their silly behavior; wearing his heavy uniform in a tropical illusion when there’s no evident dress policy for officials; preoccupied with tending to the order of his office over the tending of his wounds; launching a dangerous existential investigation all because of an illegal and unjust disruption in odds and probabilities, an utter crime in Thorn’s eyes.

But it’s also important to look at how other characters view him. Those at the Pole may look down on him, but there is no doubt that he commands a considerable level of their respect. He’s at the center of Citaceleste’s political and economical arenas, and has some judicial power as well. In short, he’s the one that everyone seemingly runs to in a crisis. Ophelia begrudgingly admires his self-control, coolness under pressure, and appreciates that he is not corrupt, like the other officials and aristocrats. Naturally, Berenilde regards him the highest. She, more than any other, gives us a glimpse of the true Thorn, putting forward the image of a protector, provider, and all-around genius.

So, the answer is yes. Thorn is sexy.

Ophelia and Asexuality

OK, I realize I’m going off on a tangent here, but since asexuality is a common reading of Ophelia that I see in reviews, I wanted to address that as well. 

There are many instances of Ophelia fulfilling, for lack of a better way to put it, the butterfly trope:

Perhaps it was due to the nervousness Thorn brought out in her, or the lace veil obscuring her vision, or the scarf coiled around her foot, or her pathological clumsiness, but the fact is, Ophelia tripped on the final step of the stairs. [28]

Hearing Thorn reawakened such nervousness in Ophelia that she seriously considered hanging up on him. [63]

She did, however, have to admit that Berenilde had got it right: it was indeed out of cowardice, more even than anger, that she’d spent recent weeks avoiding him. [100]

Somewhat embarrassed, Ophelia wondered whether he felt as nervous in her company as she felt in his. [160]

Ophelia felt her blood throbbing against her eardrums, but couldn’t have said whether it was due to sudden relief or, on the contrary, heightened tension. [323]

Ophelia gets butterflies whenever her love interest is near. It’s important to note that she’s not afraid for her safety when she’s with him, although there is one incident, where she thinks he’s going to strike her, which is quickly dispelled by his sincere assurance that he’d never harm her. He gives her butterflies often by doing totally mundane things such as standing in front of her or looking at her, and that bothers her. But why? 

Like Thorn, she’s convinced herself that intimacy and love aren’t for her. Some reviewers have praised Ophelia for being a representation of asexuality and, while I think there’s a strong case for her being somewhere on the asexual spectrum, I stop short at positing that she’s totally uninterested in sex or doesn’t experience sexual attraction. She’s noted, on several occasions, both in Clairdelune and Promise, Archibald’s handsomeness. In this novel, she also notes Fox’s.

With his gold braiding and red mane, he was as dazzling as Thorn was dark. Ophelia sensed herself coloring just looking at him. [165]

So, she does experience sexual attraction and, furthermore, she physically reacts to Fox’s appearance (though never to Archibald’s), which suggests that she’s not wholly disinterested in sex. In Promise, she commented that “no man had ever quickened her pulse” and lamented about whether she’d ever feel that way about someone, and I think this is probably the point at which most readers took away that she might be asexual.

But, like...

Thorn is the only man who produces intense and consistent physical reactions in her.

Also, if you look at the [323] quote above, he did in fact get her pulse up. Just saying.

Rather than label her as purely asexual or even being on the spectrum, we could instead speculate that, as a Reader, she’s experienced to some degree love in all its forms through countless objects and perhaps she can’t help having this reaction to love and intimacy. I’m not trying to be cynical or pessimistic, but love can be treacherous and people are driven to do all kinds of terrible things for it or because of it. As wonderful as love is despite that, it seems likely that Ophelia has simply decided it’s not something she wants to navigate. Or she just hadn’t met someone yet who was worth all that trouble.

I’ll Close With This:

“You’re free,” whispered Ophelia. “Free to go, free to stay. I won’t make you leave one cage for another one, although, as you’ve seen, I really don’t live in great security. I decided your fate without taking time to think, or to speak to you. I was selfish…and I still am. […] I still am because, deep down, I would like you to choose to remain by my side. I know that apologizing can no longer change anything, but anyway: forgive me.” [135]

Ophelia says this to Fox after rescuing him from the dungeons of Clairdelune and taking him on as an assistant. Now, when I read this, I couldn’t help but think that it’s precisely the apology Ophelia wants to hear from Thorn. Yet, here she is, guilty of doing to someone the very thing she holds against him. Isn’t it funny how hypocrisy and love are such good friends? As we know, articulation and eloquence are not Thorn’s strengths and some of Ophelia’s aversion to him is based around her inability to accept this part of him. 

Eventually, Thorn does make, more or less, the same apology.

“I should never have involved you in my affairs. I knew it would be dangerous. I convinced myself that I had the situation under control, and that mistake almost cost you your life. […] There is one thing that I have tried to tell you several times. I’m no good at these formalities, so let’s get on with it and speak no more of it. […] Please forgive me.” [444-45]

Strangely, she barely acknowledges this; she’s too busy having an epiphany.

At that second, she finally knew with absolute certainty where her place was. It wasn’t in the Pole, it wasn’t on Anima. It was precisely where she was now. At Thorn’s side. [445]

Well, perhaps this isn’t so strange since the novel starts off posing the question to this answer.

Deep down, Ophelia wondered where exactly her first home might be. Since she’d arrived at the Pole, she’d already visited Berenilde’s manor, the Clairdelune embassy, and her fiancés Treasury, and she hadn’t felt at home in any of them. [24]

The theme of home and belonging permeates this novel in a more central way than its predecessor. Ophelia is repeatedly confronted by it, but it’s also echoed in Farouk’s obsession with the Reading of his Book and finding out where he comes from and what happened in his past. When her family arrives from Anima, she sees the Pole and Thorn through their eyes. She ends up defending both from their disapproving remarks and in doing so, she realizes that she has ceased thinking of Anima as her home.

Life in the Pole was like that: wherever one went, whatever one did, danger was part of daily life. And yet, Ophelia reflected, she didn’t hate it that much, that life. [280]

Thorn’s apology seals the deal: she understands now that she was mistaken. Home is not a place. People, those who love you and who you love in return, give a home meaning. Belonging, likewise, is only made possible by the people who accept you and give you a place among them. It’s been hard-won, but she’s found both in the Pole, in Thorn and Berenilde. Her lack of a direct response to Thorn’s words suggests that she’s already forgiven him, that it matters less to her that he struggles with communication, that she’s finally accepted him for who he is and, better still, found him lovable despite that.

If we read Thorn as having ASD, then this intense dynamic between them is a positive treatment of mental/social disorders in fiction, which is really the only point I had to make with this entire thing.

Where Does Ophelia End?

I asked this question in my last analysis. Based off of the fact that, when we left her in Promise, she was experiencing some serious discomfort in body and soul directly connected to Thorn, I predicted/semi-already-knew that she would evolve toward him.

At one point, Ophelia loses the ability to pass through mirrors. We understand that it’s because she’s been lying to herself; after all, her great-uncle made it very clear that mirror-traveling is impossible under such a circumstance. It’s ironic because, by her own admission, she’s a “bad actress” [161] and, according to her mother, “was never any good at lying” [157].

She’s just so stubborn, isn’t she? It’s gratifying then to read when Ophelia overcomes it. Thorn makes a public announcement, cancelling his marriage, refusing to Read Farouk’s Book, and handing in his resignation as Treasurer. He does this to protect Ophelia and her family from imminent danger but at risk to his own welfare and position. He’s basically committing suicide, which very nearly turns literal at novel’s end. Ophelia can only think to go to him by the quickest means possible.

She looked straight at her determined face, beyond its scratches and bruises, finally ready to face that truth that she hadn’t wanted to see. It wasn’t Thorn who needed her. It was she who needed Thorn. Ophelia plunged, body and soul, into the mirror. [416]

I don’t think I need to spell that out.

Thorn and His Watch

To go on a little bit of a tangent, I also wanted to touch on the watch.

I believe it was mentioned in Promise that the watch had been a gift from Berenilde, which is so precious. Berenilde is the only true parental figure Thorn has known. She used her status and wealth to protect and care for him, and seems to understand him as only a mother--one with a child the rest of the world refuses to accept--can. I thought her reaction to Thorn’s suicidal announcement was especially devastating.

She had begun to shake so hard that Agatha rushed to take the baby from her arms. Bent double in her chair, as though punched in the stomach, Berenilde looked imploringly at Ophelia. “I beg you. Don’t abandon my boy.” [412]

Keep in mind that Berenilde has outlived her three biological children, none of whom survived past childhood. Thorn is such a lonely figure that it’s easy to forget he comes from somewhere. But Berenilde’s reminder to us is clear: he’s not the child of his Dragon father nor of his Chronicler mother. Thorn is her child, and she’s terrified of losing him like the others.

While there can be no doubt of her sentiment toward Thorn, it’s entirely likely that Berenilde foisted much of her maternal grief, trauma, and longing onto him without his express permission; he never seems to regard her with any particular filial warmth. Then again, he once attacked Archibald in defense of Berenilde’s honor, after he seduced her away from Farouk, and Ophelia later notes that he “suspended an investigation and jumped into an airship” to be near to Berenilde when she went into labor with her daughter [373]. Thorn is clearly defined rather more by his actions than his words. But the point is Berenilde is the one who gave Thorn his sense of belonging, and I just adore that.

Metaphorically speaking, the watch represents Thorn’s heart, which was given to him by his mother figure and which he gives to Ophelia as a token of his love and trustworthiness. Indeed, it’s even called a “mechanical heart” [156]. Ophelia has Read one of Thorn’s possessions before (dice) and was overwhelmed by the fury and breadth of his emotions. If she were to Read his watch, she’d probably die. Every time he digs it out of his pocket to look at it, to hold it, to fiddle with it, he’s engraving some emotional signature or trace onto it. Ophelia ultimately decides not to Read it.

“Before you go, I would like to return this to you. You need it more than me, and, in any case, I won’t read it. I’ve chosen to trust you—you, not your watch.” [285]

Her words have a profound effect on Thorn, rendering him totally speechless and maybe more confused than ever. At any rate, he misreads the situation and catches Ophelia off guard with an awkward kiss. It’s kind of a heartbreaking scene, because Ophelia simply reacts (by slapping him) and is genuinely baffled that he took her words for encouragement. I don’t necessarily take this to be evidence of her asexuality. I don’t discredit it by any means, but it just feels more like she was taken by surprise.

The thing is, for perhaps the first time ever in his life, he actively desired for someone to know his true heart and to trust in his sincerity, which is why he gave the watch to her in the first place. In his defense, this was quite a pretty and irresistible thing for Ophelia to tell him and I don’t think she’s as put off as she wants to be.

With ears burning and glasses crimson, Ophelia stared at the faded letters on the old wooden panel—“STAFF ONLY”—as if Thorn might, at any moment, retrace his steps, take back his kiss, and leave his fob watch with her, as she’d suggested in the first place. [286]

It’s funny. She wants to erase the uncomfortable physical side of the incident, but she also wants to retain his metaphorical heart. I mean, yes, it’s broken because of some careless action on her part and she asked for it back so her great-uncle could try to fix it. But still. It’s hard to ignore the metaphor there as well: if the heart watch has changed from beating to broken and she wants to hold onto the broken heart watch to try to mend it…

Well, good Lord, it’s just so obvious, isn’t it?

End

Well, that’s about it. As I said, I really only had the one main thought and then a bunch of smaller ones. 

I just learned—and am seriously devastated—that The Memory of Babel won’t be released in the U.S. until May 2020. I’m hoping this is a tentative date and that it will be available sooner.

In the meantime, if someone could upload a PDF that I could then spend days plugging in to Google Translate (again), that’d be super greeeeaaaat…

For part III, head here.

[mysherlockstardis]

Shane Dawson comforted me during a panic attack at Universal Studios in 2016

TLDR: Shane comforted me during a panic attack over losing my phone at Universal Studios while nobody (except Ryland) was looking. (Kind of funny, and emotional, please don’t send hate)

Proof: https://twitter.com/shanedawson/status/734264357501165568?s=20

I will not ever, ever, ever, defend the actions or choices that Shane has made.

I can only share with you my one chance encounter where Shane did the most honorable and kind thing to a flustered, anxious fan who had just lost her phone at Universal Studios.

I’ve been watching Shane’s videos for a long time. I was a young girl, who was playing around on youtube after school, and Shane Dawson was a very popular youtuber at the time. I wanna say the year was 2009 or 2010 when I began regularly watching “Shane Dawson”. Over the years, I have seen him leave his old characters behind, and watched as he continued to grow and develop his own unique brand of humor.

As a fan of Shane from his earlier years as a creator, I feel embarrassed that I was watching content that was not appropriate and not the type of humor I approve of or identify with today. Unfortunately, Shane’s popularity stemmed from people, including myself, not realizing how harmful that brand of humor was and what kinds of stereotypes and stigmas he was perpetuating through his successful videos. I was a latchkey kid, only child, and 12 years old. I had a crush on the popular YouTuber who made popular comedy sketches with millions of views. I was ignorant. So, was Shane.

However, Shane has survived years on this platform, because he evolves and changes. He makes mistakes. He apologizes and he tries to move on and grow. I think he has always done that.

Anyways, I digress.

In 2016, I went to Universal Studios. It had been a long day, and I am one of those people who always has my phone in my hand. Late at night, my family and I arrive at our car and I realize I can’t find my phone. My phone is my life, because yes I am one of those people whose phones are their lives. I was freaking the fu#k out. Also, I knew my phone was at like 14%, so I knew it was probably dead or stolen.

So, I come sprinting around the corner, on a frantic search outside universal studios. I slow down to take a couple of breaths and I look up to see Shane and Ryland Adams.

It was 2016, so Shane’s channel had evolved to like those food review videos and DIY’s and like Shane sitting in front of his camera in a kitchen making jokes. But I had started college and I wasn’t watching youtube videos as much anymore.

But, when I saw Shane, I reflexively yelled “Shane Dawson!” and stopped dead in my tracks.

I can’t reiterate to you how scary I must have looked and I will put a link to the photo, because you can low-key see the weird panic, fear, and excitement I was feeling in that moment.

I was out of breath and in shock looking like a deer in headlights. Shane and I made eye contact, and let me tell you. Shane looked worried. He looked so worried. I can remember that his face was saying something along the lines of “Oh my god, is this girl about to faint on me?”.

I was in a full blown panic attack, but Shane just calmly calls back “hello!”, and opens his arms like he’s ready for me to jump into them for a hug. Or like he might need to try and catch me if I pass out.  

But, I end up low-key throwing myself into his arms and I need you to know that he hugged me so fully. He hugged me, like I was his friend, and I could honestly sense the concern he had for me in that moment.  

I was bedraggled, out of breath, in the middle of an anxiety attack, and so completely starstruck by his presence.

Fun fact: I remember watching Shane’s vlogs back when he was close friends with Brittani Louise Taylor and they did one at Universal Studios (maybe 2010,2011). And the 2x times I had been to universal studio before the time I met Shane, I would always think of Shane hanging out there and how cool it would be to run into him while he was vlogging. I digress, again.

So, Shane takes me in his arms, and Ryland doesn’t do anything to ruin the moment. He doesn’t tell Shane they have to leave. He doesn’t try and end our conversation. I didn’t know who Ryland Adams was in 2016. I wanted to be mature so I introduced myself to him and like shook his hand and apologized for not recognizing him, because I was freaking out and I didn’t realize how horrible that sounded. Ryland totally brushed it off like a sweetheart.

I told Shane about how I arew up watching him, and how I bonded with my best friend from high school over our shared love for him. Because yes, I met other people my age who became fans of Shane as young ignorant children with too much time and internet access (arguably).

I do remember wanting to ask him about his old content, but deciding not too. Because even then I knew that I was glad he had changed as an artist. I was glad he had grown from the content that had made me feel rebellious and at times uncomfortable as a child. And btw, Shane had no control over who watched his videos just like Jake Paul, but unlike Jake I don’t think Shane ever targeted a 12 year old audience, I think those were just the people who were watching him.

So, then came my big dilemma. I wanted a picture. I wanted a picture with Shane Dawson so bad.

BUT I HAD LOST MY PHONE

I was freaking out. I wanted a picture and I was so afraid he wouldn’t be able to give me a picture. Logically, I knew Shane could never, ever give his personal phone number to a fan he just met on the street. I wouldn’t have expected him too or wanted him too, but I was not in the right mind.

I was not in the right mind at all. Bless Shane, because he knew to give me so many hugs. So, so, so many hugs, I wanna say 4 or 5 genuine hugs. Like basically holding me, because I was so flustered.

I felt guilty because I really needed to find my phone, and I didn't want to waste his time, but I really wanted a photo before I walked away. But, my panic attack was literally worsening by the second as I considered every second I was sprinting towards my phone as another second my phone could be stolen. Please let me be clear when I say that I knew that my request was going to be denied, but that I am a 23 year old who doesn't like social media, so the most obvious solution was not presented by me.

I ask him, “Can we take a photo, I don’t have a phone. Could you text it to me?” BAHAHAAHAHAAHHAHHAHHAAHAH

I had a twitter and I still have that twitter, but I never go on it. I never considered that Shane could use his social media.

But thankfully, Shane does. He very sweetly offered to take and tweet me a photo of us. He ends up taking a couple and I know he said he wanted to take a second photo to get his angles or something, but I totally know it was for my sake.

Listen, I can’t defend what Shane has or has not done behind the scenes as of late. I can’t defend anything he did on camera a decade or less ago. Regardless, this man rose to popularity and has remained popular and it wasn’t always for the best reasons, but people have loved him through every change he’s made.

Both him and his base were ignorant 10 years ago, but I think we have all evolved and learned better. I think Shane cares about his fans deeply, and I think that the internet has made it impossible for people to move on from their mistakes. I think we have all done something stupid that we regret. And thankfully, for most of us, our mistakes are not forever ingrained on the internet.

He owed me nothing. He didn’t owe me time. He didn’t owe me a photo. He didn’t owe me hugs or any attention. He wasn’t at an event getting paid. He wasn’t vlogging it for millions of people to watch. He was trying to be there for a girl who wasn’t making any sense. A girl who was stumbling to talk to him because she had no clue as to what she wanted to say to the person who felt like a friend she hung out with after school. Even though that friend made poor choices and was a pretty bad role model. He was still like a friend.

I just wanted to let people know that morality is hard for all humans. What he did was wrong. What he didn’t do was wrong. He’s messed up over and over, but I do think he has a profound love for his fans. I think even adults like myself make poor choices, and do stupid things, but we aren't famous so nobody knows or cares.

I think showed a lot of good character that day, even if he's made horrible consequential mistakes that will follow him forever. I will always remember the kind man who saw a crazy fan great kindness.

I plan to pass this story along, because I want people to know that I think Shane has grown and changed, and made mistakes, and he will grow and change again. He is young, and society has much to improve on.

[thebeethathums]

A Start

John Watson x Reader... there may be a second part? Idk

Warning: Reader suffers from social anxiety and mentions of a panic attack

You got ready for the day, smiling at the rain outside as you tugged a thick scarf around your neck and a jacket around your frame. It was the perfect day for a walk in the park near your new flat with the rain heavy enough that most people sought shelter indoors but light enough that it wouldn’t drench you, leaving the streets pleasantly empty. You grabbed your polka dotted umbrella from the stand by the door, your hand relishing the familiar smoothness of its curved handle, and then left the flat at an elated skip.

The park was exactly as you’d hoped it would be- empty save for one or two people here and there going about their business. It felt good to be out of the flat just for the sake of being out and you twirled your umbrella on your shoulder as you hummed a tune from Mary Poppins, the action reminding you of the movie. You let yourself get lost in that train of thought and next thing you knew your world went from perfect to almost nightmarish as you ran into someone- or rather someone ran into you.

You stumbled back with a rushed apology, hoping that whoever it was would just continue on their path without so much as a second glance, but it seemed luck was not destined to be on your side. The person you had run into, a sandy-haired blonde man not much taller than yourself, was looking at you with a curious smile. A small swell of panic spread through your chest, making your fingertips tingle as you tried to keep calm even though you knew that he intended to speak to you. Your efforts weren’t enough and you felt another wave of panic course through you as his lips pulled into a grin, “No apologies necessary. I wasn’t watching where I was going or I certainly would have noticed such a beautiful woman in my path.”

You let out an unnecessarily loud giggle, instinctually overcompensating for your panic, and felt the heat rising to your cheeks as you avoided his gaze and uncertainly mumbled, “Thanks I guess.”

It wasn’t that you weren’t interested in the man, or were overwhelmed by how adorable he was- and he was certainly adorable and very handsome by your standards- it was that you didn’t do well around people. People and social situations made you panicky and anxious in an often-painful way and, while you didn’t necessarily prefer to be alone, it kept you from moments like this one.

You could feel your blood quickening, the liquid bouncing between cold and warm to make your veins ache and your chest tight, and the plentiful supply of air you’d once had was harshly snatched from your lungs, making your breath short out of desperation. Your heart felt like it was either going to explode from the rapid pace it was beating out, the reverberations echoing through every cell of your body, or that it would suddenly stop entirely and everything would go unbearably still. So many thoughts ran through your head so quickly that it was impossible to process anyone, the mass just instilling you with an overall feeling of panic and dread that you couldn’t shake.

You opened your mouth a couple of times, trying to hide your shortened breathing as you searched for something to say that wasn’t just an unintelligible noise. After a second your eyes met his, which were searching your face almost worriedly, and your face went impossibly red as you decided you needed to get out of here before you had a massive panic attack in front of this innocent stranger. You planned to say something along the lines of, ‘I have to go but it was nice meeting you,” but all that came out was a blurted, “Bye,” as you hurriedly spun on your heel and rapidly retreated back in the direction of your flat.

A very befuddled John Watson watched you go the short distance back to your flat and then quickly disappear behind the door, feeling a bit perturbed- no woman had ever physically fled from him before. He wondered what he’d done wrong and then if maybe Sherlock had been right in suggesting he give up on dating and women entirely. He was frowning to himself as he thought over not only his most recent failure with you, but all the others he’d had recently, and then noticed with a slight jolt that you’d left your umbrella on the ground where it had fallen when you’d come in contact with him. He looked at the umbrella, noting that it was well loved from the smoothness of the wooden handle, and then at the flat you’d gone into, before deciding there was no harm in returning something that you would no doubt miss when you realized it was gone.

You were still just inside the door of your flat, trying to calm your heart and head all while beating yourself up for not even being able to go on a simple outing without ending up a mess, when there was a knock on the door. You eyed the slab of wood suspiciously- no one ever came to call on you… at least not without giving notice in advance as all those who knew you did. Normally, you would have just ignored the sound in the same fashion you did when your mobile rang with a number you didn’t know or someone who just wanted to talk but for some reason when the knock came again, you managed to find the courage to answer it.

John had never seen anyone look so conflicted in his entire life. Your initial reaction was a wide grin and he felt like maybe he’d been mistaken about having done something wrong but then your brain caught up and your face flashed panic for a moment before you ducked your head. All this happened in a few seconds and John was quiet, opting to let whatever was going on in your mind play out in hopes that you wouldn’t bolt again. It seemed to work for a bit before you shook your head and moved to shut him out. He was quick to stop you with a firm hand on the door, rapidly explaining, “Hold on a minute. I only came to return your umbrella.”

The door stopped closing and then very slowly opened again so you could look at him for a moment before finding the front step very interesting- the only way you could manage to get out, “S-Sorry. That was rude. T-Thank you for returning my umbrella.”

He handed it to you and without having to look up you could tell he was giving you a gentle smile as he offered, “It’s alright and it’s no trouble. The only reason you dropped it was because I ran into you after all.”

You just nodded, panic rising up in your chest again but much slower this time since you had the security of the door to cling to and hide behind. When you didn’t immediately shut the door in his face, he let a glimmer of hope grow in his chest and ventured, “I’m sorry if this is too forward but would you like to have coffee with me sometime?”

Your eyes snapped up to him- a stunned look on your face for a moment before you went back to a similar conflict to what he had seen from you when you’d opened the door. Your hand fidgeted anxiously with the door nob as you started, “I-I…”

You mind screamed to you to say ‘I would love to,’ but images of crowded coffee shops and people trying to talk to you made you say the exact opposite, “I-I can’t.”  

John was about to accept defeat when you hung your head in what was clearly shame and before he could stop himself a question came spilling out of his mouth, “Is that because you don’t want to or because you're busy?”

You shook your head, pushing the panic down as best you could in an attempt to save this interesting stranger from the hurt of flat out and unintended rejection, “I.. I…”

You pursed your lips, cursing yourself for what an idiot you must seem- only able to get out a single letter- and then took a deep breath before trying again at a very rapid rate, “It’s not you. I just- I’m not so good with people, you see? I know that it sounds like a lame excuse b-but I… I have- I am- I...”

Letting out a soft frustrated growl, you looked up at him both pleadingly and apologetically and quietly reiterated, “It’s just not you, o-okay?”

Most people would have been running the other way right now, not wanting to deal with someone who obviously had some issues, but John had issues of his own. He knew what it felt like. Everyone needs someone to take an interest even when it isn’t convenient or easy- Sherlock had done that for him, and to some extent he for Sherlock, and now he wanted to do it for you. You moved to shut the door again, hitting the limit of what you could take without succumbing to the anxiety, and again he stopped you, quickly offering, “What if it was just me? If I brought you coffee here? We could drink it on the step if you don’t want to let me in.”

You froze, this was a first- men usually deemed you unworthy of the effort after one or two unsuccessful attempts of trying to strike up a conversation and here this man was almost begging you to have coffee with him. John waited patiently for you to reply and you finally offered him a weak smile, the best you could manage at the moment, and nodded, “I’d l-like that.”

He grinned triumphantly, “How about tomorrow at three? I’m John Watson by the way.”

You took a moment to think it over and then nodded, holding out a hand which he took as you offered, “(F/n) (L/n). Three is good.”

His grin grew, his blue eyes lighting up happily, “See you then, (F/n).”

You were glad you couldn’t help the smile that pulled at your lips, thanking your body for doing something correct for once, and then softly offered, “Till then, J-John.”

In that moment, that brief instantaneous moment, there wasn’t any panic or anxiety coursing through you, you simply felt happy. Someone wanted you despite everything you were and weren’t and that was enough to put you at ease if only for a moment- a small blissful moment. Shutting the door on your new acquaintance, you hoped that maybe there would be more to come.

[jfridley]

no record of them

6th days prompt (RECORD) for @sciencebrosweek

It's tradition to write a highlander crossover for sciencebrosweek.

Bruce smiled when he noticed the sign Shakespeare and company book store. The team was in France on a PR tour that Stark Industries had set up. Per their agreement Bucky and he were allowed to bail on most of the question panels because of their “social anxiety”. He loved old bookstores and knew he could find some hidden gems in this store.

“Bucky let’s go in here for a bit” Bruce replied as he gently grabbed the man’s metal arm and gestured to the store.

 Bucky glanced at the store and furrowed his brow then shrugged “Sure why not” he concluded.

Bruce smiled and took Bucky’s hand in his and pulled him toward the door. They glanced around, Bruce immediately went to a stack of books by the register and looked through them. The smell of old books had hit them as they crossed the threshold making Bruce smile. Bucky glanced around with the barest hint of a smile as well.

“This almost reminds me of grams house” Bucky whispered.

Bruce glanced over at him “yeah?” he asked.

Bucky glanced over and smiled at him “Yeah she loved books. Women from the old country. Only thing we need is a pot of lavender tea” he replied. “Are we sure this place is open? Bucky added with a chuckle as he glanced around.

Bruce glanced around “I have no idea-there’s no one else in here. But the door was unlocked and the sign out front said open right?” he said glancing back at the front door.

Bucky nodded “Let’s look around, worst case scenario we get kicked out” he said.

Bruce snorted “Let’s hope that doesn’t happen” he said as they started toward the back of the store.

A man cleared his throat off to the side, making both men tense ever so slightly and turn toward the sound. A tall skinny man with dark buzz cut and deep eyes was staring at them.  He had a box in his hands and seemed to have come from the back storeroom.

“Can I help you gentlemen with anything?” he asked with a welsh accent.

Bruce cleared his throat “No-sir. We just noticed the sign and was hoping to take a look around” he said politely.

The man blinked at Bruce and nodded “By all means. Let me know if there is a particular title you are looking for. I will be right here-going through inventory” he said pointing to the chair at the corner of the front counter.

“Thank You” Bruce replied heading toward the stacks and pulling Bucky along. Neither noticed the look on the man’s face when he noticed Bucky’s arm and realized who he was.

------------------------------------------------

Methos blood ran cold when he saw the other man’s arm. He had found him again-they had sent him. There was no way he was going back that was for damn sure. He glanced around and made sure there was no other people in the store and casually walked to the door, locking it and turning the front sign off in one swift motion. He was fighting every fiber in his being that screamed run now as he stared at his reflection in the store window. If he ran they would go after others here and that wouldn’t work. He’s going to do what he should have done all those years ago and stop this once and for all. He hit the lights-it was time for hunting.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Tony had glanced at his phone when Bruce texted him where they were. Of course he would drag Bucky into a bookstore. He glanced at his watch and was surprised at the time. These panels usually take longer and he was happy he might actually meet up with the other two, instead of seeing them back at the hotel.

He glanced at Steve “Want to come with me and meet up with them at this bookstore?” he asked politely.

Steve glanced at Tony “No Sam wants to show me around-maybe we can meet for drinks later?” he suggested.

Tony nodded smiling “sure” he said as he waved and headed out the door.

--------------------------------------

Tony followed Friday’s directions and found the bookstore easily enough. He frowned at the darkened store and the closed sign. He stood out by the sidewalk and looked up the building when he noticed another man walking up to the building. He man stopped when he saw the closed sign.

“Does it usually close early?” Tony asked in French.

The man (Duncan Maccleod) blinked when he noticed Tony and shook his head “No” he replied. Then he muttered under his breath “What has he done”.

Tony raised an eyebrow knowing he wasn’t supposed to hear that. He pulled out his phone and texted Bruce “Where are you?”

Bruce reply was instant “the store I told you about”.

Tony frowned as he texted back “Bruce the door is locked and says closed”. Then he typed “Get out”.

Bruce never replied back and Tony knew something was wrong. The resounding gunshot from inside the store was the solidifying factor. Tony and Duncan cursed and both ran toward the door.

--------------------------------------------------

    Bruce glanced through row and row of books, grabbing ones that piqued his interest. He glanced over at Bucky who had glanced around in suspicion. Bruce’s phone pinged and he glanced at it frowning “Buck, Tony says the door is locked” then he froze as a steel blade was against his throat.

Bucky turned and stopped when he saw the man had a sword to Bruce’s throat.

“Hello again solider” he replied sternly. “You’ve found me again I see. They’ve gotten smarter I suppose. But you can tell them I am not going back” the man snarled at him.

Bucky glanced at the man then at Bruce “I am not here to take you anywhere” he said.

Bruce cleared his throat “why don’t we calm down” he said in an almost steady voice. “Can you please get this blade off of my throat? I am trying not to get angry, believe me you really don’t want to see me angry” he added.

Bucky chuckled “You really don’t” he replied.

The man snarled “I escaped 60 years ago and I will NOT go back” he reiterated as he pushed Bruce out of the way and swung his blade at Bucky.

Bucky swung his metal arm up to block the blade and his gun appeared instantly in his hand. Before he had time to think, instinct took over and he shot the man in the chest. He glanced at his arm noticing the sword had stuck in his arm. The sound of the front door being kicked open had him swinging around and he almost fired again but Bruce jumped in his way.

“Buck stop” he said arms out.

Bucky stopped and blinked knowing Bruce wasn’t the enemy.

“What the hell” Tony yelled as he rushed toward them.

The other man had his sword out at the ready but then noticed the body on the ground. He checked his pulse for show and glared at the man as he stalked toward him and yanked the sword out of Bucky’s arm.

“Bruce what happened” Tony demanded as he ran his hands across his neck, checking for bruises.

“The man had a sword to my throat and tried to kill Bucky” Bruce replied keeping his eyes on Bucky but leaning into Tony’s touch.

“Why” the other man/Duncan said.

“He recognized me” Bucky replied.

“From where?” Tony asked as he walked up and tugged the man over to where Bruce was standing.

“Apparently I must have kidnapped him 60 years ago” he replied.

Methos gasped back to life with a jolt and a gran. He blinked up at the lights and realized he was still at the store. His vision came into focus and realized MacCleod was staring at him.

“How is that possible?” a voice asked.

“Shh” another man said.

“Welcome back” Duncan said gently helping him up.

He groaned again as he straightened then yelped and scurried back when he saw the three other men in the room.

“No-I told you I am not going back” he snarled before Mac put his hand on his arm to calm him down.

“M-Doc stop” Duncan said. “he’s not going to take you anywhere” he added.

“You don’t know him like I do-they control him –“ Methos stopped when Tony interrupted him.

“Did control him-past tense” Tony said as Methos blinked at him.

Bruce cleared his throat “He isn’t the winter solider anymore. At least the way you knew him. We stopped Hydra and Bucky is Bucky again” he said squeezing the other man’s hand.

Bucky glanced over at Bruce then glanced back at the man on the ground, “I never expected this to happen since I-he-never left survivors” he said. “But I can see why they wanted you-since you don’t die” he added.

Methos cleared his throat then got up and walked to stare at Bucky. This wasn’t the same man as he had seen 60 years ago. Yes it was the same man but he had finally broken free of their mind control and was finding himself again.

“I believe you” Methos said finally.

Bucky looked surprised “really?” he asked.

Methos continued “Your eyes were dead back then, I know that look. I’ve BEEN that look. Now you actually seem like a person.” He concluded.

Bucky blinked “umm thanks I guess” he said.

Methos nodded and looked over at Bruce “I apologize for putting my sword to your throat” he replied. Then he frowned and looked around “Where is my sword?” he asked.

Duncan sighed “You aren’t going to like it” he said as he handed the sword to him.

Methos glanced at his sword and swore in three languages glancing at Bucky “I see the metal in your arm was upgraded” he replied. “My sword is ruined” he added.

“Yes I made sure his arm was upgraded but the better question here is why are the two of you carry around swords and how in the hell do you know Bucky from 70 years ago?” Tony burst out. “Or the fact that you revived from a gunshot” he added just as loudly.

Bucky snorted “Feel better?” he asked Tony.

Tony scowled at him and stared expectedly at the other men. Methos and Duncan shared a look before Methos replied.

“Hydra had the Winter Solider capture me 70 years ago when one of their spies found out about my immortality” Methos replied honestly surprising both he and Duncan with his answer.

Tony blinked “Immortality?” he asked.

Methos smirked “You are a smart man Mr. Stark I believe you know the definition of immortality” he replied.

“I know the definition of immortality” Tony shot back. “You expect me to believe there are what a gang of imortals walking around carrying swords?” he asked.

Bucky stared at the other man in amusement “Really you know Hulk, Captain America, Thor myself –that’s believable but a race of immortals is where you draw the line?” he said.

“I need Evidence Buckster” Tony shot back.

“I believe we all saw the evidence babe” Bruce replied finally.

“There’s no record of them anywhere” Tony shot back.

Methos rolled his eyes “God you are like your father” he mumbled.

“Excuse me” tony shot back.

“Why would we want record of us? What would that do? That would just have people coming after us” Methos explained.

“What about for historical accuracy?” Bruce asked.

Methos smiled “Dr. Banner wins the prize” he replied.

“huh?” Tony asked.

“There may or may not be records for historical accuracy” Methos said. “Now we all need to go about our lives” he added standing up. “Good bye gentlemen” he said indicating that the conversation was over.

 -------------------------------------------------------

Steve waved them over at the table with a worried look on his face.

“Where have you all been?” he asked. “I was starting to worry” he added.

Sam laughed “I told him you guys were enjoying the sights” he said with a wink.

“We met up with the owner of that bookstore for a while” Bucky said smiling at his friend.

“Really what did you talk about?” Steve asked ignorant to what had happened.

“History” Bruce replied squeezing both Tony and Bucky’s hands under the table.

[littleredroseonthevalley]

St. Augustine

Or, The Realization of Truth

Summary: After Mr Sinclaire storms off his own party, Lady Susan comes to find him at the yard.

Rating: T -  Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with some violence, minor coarse language, and minor suggestive adult themes.

Words: 1474

Notes: I reiterate I am not a sociopath who can only take pleasure on sex and the suffering of my fellow men. To prove it, have some fluffy fluff.

“Why, then, does truth generate hatred, and why does thy servant who preaches the truth come to be an enemy to them who also love the happy life, which is nothing else than joy in the truth—unless it be that truth is loved in such a way that those who love something else besides her wish that to be the truth which they do love. Since they are unwilling to be deceived, they are unwilling to be convinced that they have been deceived. Therefore, they hate the truth for the sake of whatever it is that they love in place of the truth. They love truth when she shines on them; and hate her when she rebukes them.”

~ Confessions, Book 10, Chapter 23

Ernest felt like screaming, shouting until his voice was hoarse, but he contained himself on the grounds he had humiliated himself enough tonight. No need to feed the likes of Theresa Sutton with more babble to spread through the city.

God knows she had enough already.

He breathed heavily and tried to loosen his tie, in hopes that it would help the flow of air through his throat.

If the simple fact of upholding this travesty of a party while he would rather be doing just about literally anything else, including touring an apiary farm covered head to toe in honey, was not irritating enough, that… that… thing who the Fates had the sick pleasure of making a Duke had the damned idea to crash it.

What was the sick obsession of that man with him? It was going on years, even before the death of his wife, the Duke’s tendency to trail behind him, like a demon who could not be exorcised. The man leaving him alone might not make Ernest hate Tristan any less, but it would make the exercise less taxactive.

Perhaps if he had not came without an invitation, the esquire might have contained his temper, he might have thrown a respectable, composed, adjusted act for the night. Yes, the coup de grace had been a courtesy of Miss Sutton, whom, be stated, he also had no intention of inviting, but the Duke chirped at his patience enough before.

Though, to be fair, he had placed great expectations on tonight. He set himself for disappointment. He had hoped he could prove, to his peers, to himself, to her, that he was capable of doing this, being a standing member of polite society, to live up to the training he received as a boy.

He wanted to reinforce that first image Lady Susan had of him when they first met, on the road to Grover. Of the staunch nobleman to her county peasant. Out of spite, yes, all their encounters were in some way humiliating to him, but also because, in his head, this was the kind of man she desired and respected.

Now, would be better, he considers, to be taken as a bumbling, wimp of a man or as someone who threw tantrums and conniptions left and right? Those seemed to be his options at the moment, perhaps he ought to cut his losses and invest in one of those personas.

The season had already started, and people would soon notice Lady Susan. Not only a dashing, young, ludicrously wealthy heiress, she was also highly intelligent, sharp and the very envy of Helen of Troy. She was a wild bird, he could not cage her, he did not want it, but he could convince her to stay of free will.

He could, too, curtail at all chances her contacts with possible competitors. Ernest had to hand it to himself. Sitting her between Mr Marlcaster and Mr Chambers was resourceful of him. Marlcaster was an engaged idiot, and while the esquire held appreciation for Mr Chambers, he was hardly blind to where his preferences laid.

Hence the also very convenient invitation to Mr Konevi, the Sephardi gentleman who seemed to be quite taken with Chambers.

He could not help but think it was going all so well until he lost his nerve and fled to the gardens. God, he was pathetic.

If it was not enough, he also left Lady Susan alone with the leering Duke.

That thought brought him another wave of anxiety. Lady Susan was inside his house, surrounded by a horde of useless ninnies and a rapist disguised as a peer of the realm.

He jumps to his feet and turns to race inside once again, but as he looks towards the house once more, there stood the very same woman he intended to protect, her eyes shining from the lights of his porch.

“I never understood why we hold the social season so late in the spring. I would much rather to face the heat at the fields, where it is windy, or to wash my feet on the river, than in the stuffiness of London.” Susan says, leisurely fanning herself. “That is to say, I know in the times of old, the landowners were needed at their estates during sowing and harvest, but the idea the likes of the Duke of Karlington to labour in any way makes me laugh.”

Ernest looks deep into her eyes and tries not to disclose the dejection he felt on the corners of his heart in saying, “Is your party not to your satisfaction, Lady Susan?”

“On the contrary, Mr Sinclaire, send my regards to your cook. I am yet to find such a tasteful roasted meat.” She closes her fan and walks over to the shade of the tree, where he currently stood. “Perhaps it was the herbs. You would not know what they use, would you?”

“I do not take much attention to those details, Lady Susan, I apologize.” The esquire punctuates his apology with a nod.

She hummed, unaffected. “Of course, I did not think you would. Foolish of me to ask. Tell me, Mr Sinclaire, what do you like to eat?”

The blond man scoffed. “From our earlier exchanges, Lady Susan, I was led to believe you detested to ‘beat around the bush’, so to speak.”

Susan smiles, amused. “Indeed, I do not favour this kind of behaviour, but I am nothing if not adaptable. I did not think you would appreciate if I came running and fretted over your hysteria.”

He frowned. “I do not have hysteria, Lady Susan.”

She chuckled, sitting on a bench he had installed years prior for reading on days of intense heat. “What would you call it then? Or would you rather me believe your urgent errands consist on circling around a tree and mumble to yourself?”

The brunette tapped the seat next to her, inviting him to join her. He complies with her request, but the slight pout does not subdue.

“You see, Mr Sinclaire, only because I have been taking under my responsibility your regular releases for the past few months, does not mean I cannot be of help in other areas of your life.” She places her hands on his, and he cannot contain a shy smile to spread on his face.

“I am a very capable and, dare I say, forward woman.” The brunette continues. “I understand your wife’s death might be a delicate subject for you, especially if Miss Sutton’s word is to be taken at face value, and I also understand the Duke’s presence is particularly unpleasant for you. I will not press you into details.

“Know that, however, I am here if and when you want to talk about it. I said it before and I will say it again, I do care for your well-being, and it stands regardless of both of our desires to wed at the season’s closing.”

She caresses the sides of his face. “Much as I appreciate your callings for our… nightly activities, I would not mind to heed your way for other business.”

Ernest smiles widely at her, his eyes glinting. “I am so very sorry, Lady Susan. I am a fool.”

She chuckles. “What for, Mr Sinclaire?”

“I once thought you were beneath me, I though you to be some bold coquette who was trying to bite more she could chew.” He breaks eye contact, ashamed of himself. “The truth is you are an extraordinaire woman. I came here to brood like a petulant child, and you had the grace to come and get me, to console me, and to offer more consideration I can possibly make myself worth.”

Lady Susan smiled at the man, and boldly kisses his cheek. “It serves you not to doubt me again. Shall we return to the party?”

Ernest stood tall and offered the woman his hand. “It would be my greatest pleasure, milady.”

Susan took his hand and they walked into the house. For the remainder of the night, her hand did not leave his own, and a smile was never seen away from his features.

Taglist: @catlady0911; @choicesyouplayandmore; @cocomaxley; @llholloway; @mrsernestsinclaire; @shelivesinthewoods; @tornbetween2loves

[doingbetterforme]

Social Anxieties are Self-Fulfilling Prophecies

I’m definitely not dating this person, but he’s being really nice about it. 

We met on Tinder before my last relationship. Had one date and hooked up, kept in passive contact for the duration of that relationship, but I never felt like he was trying to pursue me (even before we fucked). 

A little over  a year later, I’m back on tinder, freshly out of my relationship and thinking I’m ready to go on some dates, flirt a little, buy a meal for someone, have someone buy me a meal, etc, and there he is again. Once again, it’s a match. I wonder if he remembers our encounter, or remembers me at all. We match. 

We start chatting and I really want to go on another date with him. I end up on a bad date with someone else and text him drunkenly about it on a tuesday night, and he’s so kind about it. We have a date scheduled the next day and he’s surprisingly ok with it. He even checks in to make sure I still want to go, which I do.

“I would actually really love to spend time with a guy who I feel safe and comfortable around, and maybe that's a lot to put on you, but you're that guy right now”

We have a lovely date. I tell him all about the night before, and how I felt like I was trapped and I was really upset by my behavior in the face of that feeling. He listened kindly, we talked about common interests, it seemed like it was going well. He dropped me off and gave me a hug- no kiss because of my weird night before, and I texted him after he’d left, telling him I wanted to invite him in to finish our conversation, but I didn’t. He said he would have loved to. 

We went out one week later. Went to see a movie, took some cute photos in a photo booth at the mall. It was fun, but again, no kiss goodnight. Maybe he just wants to be friends. 

But we’re texting every day. There are many days where I won’t text him, because I don’t want to seem desperate. He texts me on every one of these days, setting off an avalanche of messages I can’t help but send. I flirt, purposefully, becauseI want him to know: I am interested. We make plans to make dinner at his place. 

I’m thinking the whole day “just gonna eat dinner and go home.” The best laid plans of mice and very lonely women. We’re sitting on his couch, watching my favorite show and bonding over how great it is. He’s massaging and cuddling me, but not really making a move, so I kiss him. He kisses me back, hungrily. 

“Oh, he does want this. Cool.” I end up sleeping over. He even offered to sleep on his couch, but I wanted so badly to sleep beside him. I wanted to be held and kissed and wanted. I told him I didn’t think I was ready to have sex, he offered agin to sleep on the couch, but I didn’t want him to. Of course, I changed my mind after a few minutes of fooling around.  I haven’t had sex in two months and here is a sweet, supportive, kind person. He has no expectations of me, I don’t feel pressured in any way, I feel safe, I am ready. 

We stay up for a long time afterwards talking about important things. Not commitment talks or anything like that- I don’t believe he is in any way my boyfriend. His cat sleeps on my pillow above my head, purring. Overall, a pretty wonderful night. Plus, I made a kick-ass sauce. 

The next morning I feel like he can’t get rid of me soon enough. It’s strange, and he’s not mean about it, but I can tell he doesn’t want me to stick around and I’m being too sluggish in getting ready to leave. I text him when I get home, he texts me back. We continue texting for a week, I even bring up hanging out again, but he is vague about it. 

I get a world-rocking yeast infection and my period, so I don’t know what’s even going on. I go to the doctor and get a full STI work up, just to find out I’ll be fine, just take this pill. Of course, that means I have spent days fixating and thinking this man just gave me something, and now doesn’t have the balls to tell me he’s not interested. 

The weekend passes. He’s busy. We text a bunch on Monday and finally I ask, are we going to hang out again? I don’t want to be texting into a void. He says, he’s just busy, he’s just feeling things out, doesn’t have any expectations. I reiterate: I have no expectations of you, just wanted to make sure. 

We don’t text the next day. He texts me the following day, and for most of the next week, I try not to text him first. I’m not trying to play games, just trying not to get invested in this person I really like when he seems completely uninterested. Or maybe not uninterested? It’s very confusing and I can’t read him. We don’t text at all over the weekend, and I figure that is that. He texts me on Monday. Today is Wednesday and still, no mention of hanging out. 

I’m having a really bad day today. I fucked up at work in a bad bad way and I’m not happy about it. He asks me how my day is going, and I tell him it’s been kind of rough, he asks why. Why is he interested in my struggles? Every time I mention something not great, he jumps to attention. Does he want the drama? I don’t know. I tell him what’s going on, he is sympathetic. 

“You know, you’ve been super supportive and sweet considering the enormous amount of complaining I feel like I’ve been throwing at you and I really appreciate it. I apologize if I’ve been throwing a lot of baggage at you. You’re very kind.” I’m terrified of being too needy, and it spirals into me being even more needy. He’s sweet in his response, but I can’t help but feel that in my attempt to avoid being needy, I’ve been incredibly needy. 

And this person doesn’t even like me enough to show it. It’s absurd that I am so totally fixated on wondering whether this person likes me. He clearly doesn’t. So why is he being so nice about it? Why not just stop texting me? Why do I care?

[blondeparkchanyeol]

Lie to Me and Tell Me You Love Me - Sehun Scenario - Part 1

He was always there – and by always you meant always. Not a week would go by where you wouldn’t see him. In the beginning you thought it was a coincidence, that it was just one of those things. Where you meet a person and then for a while afterwards you see them everywhere and it’s a funny joke and you laugh about it with them when you meet in a supermarket aisle or are in the same line as them in a café. Ha ha ha, yes, very humorous. That thought process stopped after week three. Some could argue why it even took you three weeks to figure out that the lanky boy with the black hair was essentially stalking you, inserting himself into your life in as many ways as physically possible. And the answer to that was…well, you weren’t really sure. Maybe you had hoped that it was as in fact a said coincidence and you wouldn’t have to deal with him. You definitely had placed too much believe that he had the power to miraculously turn up in the same place you were. His name was Oh Sehun and he was, unfortunately, a mutual friend of yours. Well technically, he was your friend too (and stalker) but you wanted to keep as much distance between the two of you – physically and socially. Your friend Matthew had introduced him to you – a decision you would grow to hold against him – on the first week of your first year in college. You already had a faint idea of who he was, with Matthew who had been your best friend for years, both of you coming from the same small town, mentioning Sehun a thousand times in the first few days. So naturally you already had a slight distaste for him because even without meeting him, you could tell he and Matthew clicked in ways you couldn’t (due to your lack of penis) and well, frankly, you were shit at making friends. The entire first week you had sat at the back of the lecture theatres watching everyone interact with each other, whilst never taking part. And I mean, yeah, you could cut yourself some slack. It was the first week. You didn’t expect to make a million friends there and then but the anxiety that rose in your chest at the mere thought of having to introduce yourself to a bunch of strangers, told you that you probably wouldn’t ever get around to it. So naturally, the idea of your best friend liking someone that wasn’t you was a scary but selfish one. To put it simply: you were jealous.

Of course you’d never tell either of them that. And when Oh Sehun rolled up to your door along with Matthew to be introduced to you, the smug look on his face made you reiterate that. As the months went on, to your surprise, you did actually make friends (gold star for you) and so did Matthew and someone through your bond, the two groups of people merged into one. Your jealousy of Matthew and Sehun’s friendship grew less and less as you got closer to a girl named Luna. She was a second year architecture student, a course different from you as you were studying art, but somehow despite vastly different interests, the two of you struck up a bond that would soon grow to be unbreakable. She was long legged, wide eyed and cue the cliché made guy’s heads turn everywhere she went. And whilst you weren’t ugly – you were no Luna (no matter how much she insisted she was “just regular looking”). The guys in your friendship group, whilst they would never do anything about it, you could tell by looking at them that if Luna asked them, they’d sacrifice any residual friendship for the chance to get with her. But then again most guys would.

Matthew in particular was enamoured with Luna. Oh Sehun surprisingly, was not. In fact, the two butted heads more times than not, especially when Sehun called her “an insufferable ginger” when she was being difficult, to which she didn’t take kindly too. The just had personalities that didn’t match and you were completely okay with that because it meant she agreed with your opinions of him. You see, from the first day you met Sehun and he gave you that smug smile – he never sat right with you. You couldn’t really explain it. He had never done anything overly wrong. There was no particular moment in your mind where you decided you didn’t like him. He was just one of those people you don’t like without explanation. This was before the stalking that you had decided upon this opinion. The stalking started after.

Everywhere you went he seemed to appear – which I mean wasn’t hard because you travelled in the same circle of friends but after seeing him 5 times at the coffee shop you frequented, which might you add, was nowhere near the house he lived in with his parents (he was a native to the city your university was in), you started to suspect something was up. From that point he would be everywhere. Parties you went to, the library on the 3rd block, you were pretty sure you had even seen him out of the corner of your eye hovering near you in the supermarket when you were buying tampons. You had said to Matthew time and time again – even threatened that if he didn’t tell Sehun to back off you’d call the police. You wouldn’t really, he wasn’t a threatening guy but still, he wasn’t normal. You weren’t sure if his blatant admittance was better or worse. You knew he liked you. As if it weren’t already blatantly obvious, he hadn’t been shy to tell you himself. When you confronted him about it, his only reply was,

“Go on a date with me.” 

You pulled a large book from the self, revealing the hopeful face behind it on the other side.

“What?” He said in response to your expression. “I think we should spend some time together that’s all.” You fired him a look.

“We have the same group of friends.” You retorted, the librarian sending a shush your way to which you muttered a quiet apology.

“That’s not the same” He rolled his eyes. “Why not?”

“Because Sehun, I don’t want to.”

“Just once.”

“No.”

“But I have a big dick.”

You simply placed the book back on the shelf, effectively blocking his face before walking out of the library and leaving Oh Sehun to his lonesome at Shelf E4.

“That’ll show him” You thought smugly to yourself. “Message sent loud and clear.”

Spoiler alert: Oh Sehun did not get the message. 

[oneness913-blog]

What did you do in 2017 that you'd never done before?

  Writing a grant, managing budget, crowdfunding, giving a serious (normative) gift to Sarasa (last year she was perplexed with a pair of glass sandal), Starting a master’s degree, making a pledge to become a teacher in Japan, Being a camp leader, BBQ on the beach with Sarasa, Volunteering, Spending a full week with the same kids, Paying for tuition, Getting on a train just to get a fresh air, Buying a monthly train pass, Watching the entire episodes of Doctor Who within two weeks. Hanging out with James’ sister. Keeping track of daily expenses (barely). Trying to recruit undergrads to form a squad to make an impact in child welfare. Going to a friend’s funeral.

New places I visited: Totsukawa village in Nara, Chikusa in Hyogo, Child Care home, reformatory, more than 30 different schools, Noto (Ishikawa pref).

Did you keep your new year's resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

   My resolution for 2017 was, probably, to write reflections often, and that is exactly one thing I wish I had done more. All anxious feelings for the future is circular in nature and reflecting more through writing would have helped avoid it. I will totally make more new year’s resolutions, and will try harder to keep it. It’s about time to consciously structure life!

What would you like to have in 2017 that you lacked in 2016?

-More music in life (didn’t know how music could uplift my feeling!)!

- courage and confidence to actually do things that are wanted by me.

-time to sit down and write

-daily planning of how to spend time

-more chats with friends from wes

-going to rando local meetup events

What date(s) from 2016 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

   -Sep 25 to Oct 1: A week of internship at a local elementary school made me absolutely fall in love with hanging out with 6th graders, and this led me to get elementary school teaching license.

  -Sep 15: Former Cross st. neighbor Matt Burgunder visited Osaka and we talked about deep shit over sake. This day was the day I heard I got a grant. Matt and I opened up and became closer, and that was awesome, fun thing.

  -Nov 10 Xian visited Osaka, and we ate a bunch of foodies and talked lots. I was very, very happy to be able to reconnect with Xian again, a while after graduation. We discovered that Pizza-okonomiyaki was the best thing to eat in Osaka.

   What was your biggest achievement of the year?

   -coordinating a US-Japan youth exchange program to tackle cyberbullying. The challenges included communication with a variety of people and institutions, managing budget, facilitating high school students’ discussions while simultaneous interpreting.

What was the best thing you bought?

  -a beautiful (?) pair of piercing for Sarasa. I feel like a boyfriend now. hahaha. And a work table from IKEA. It was Sarasa’s suggestion (or order) and was totally, absolutely worth the money. I can watch Doctor Who so much more comfortably.

Where did most of your money go?

   drinking and eating out with friends, coffee at cafes, traveling with Sarasa.

What did you get really, really, really excited about?

    Traveling to Kanazawa with Sarasa, giving her a (real) present for Christmas/Three year anniversary. This reflection has made me realize I am much more of a romantic (?) or a family guy than I thought. LOL

What song(s) will always remind you of 2016?

       Honestly, no song is attached to 2016.

Compared to this time last year, are you happier or sadder? thinner or fatter? richer or poorer?

I am slightly, but very meaningfully, richer. at least money wise, thanks to some of the project incomes. Sarasa says my tummy is becoming like a young child’s and I must hit the gym, and I have registered for a membership but have been lazier than ever. I should reflect on this later. Speaking of happiness, I am definitely happier because I are a little more sure of what I want for my career (teaching). Around this time last year I was debating whether I should fly away and disappear into rural cities in Mexico. Now I am serious thinking about finding a teaching-related career there. Sarasa is going to graduate and come back to Japan soon and that is making me feel so much more hopeful for the future. I probably got a little more used to long-distance. I have never recommended it to anyone though.

Having met a lot of young people and remembering each kid as a whole set of personality and face makes me feel like I exist in this world. The idea of educating to change the world is nothing compared to three or four real persons speaking to you in your head whenever you try to recall. Working with them has boosted my self-efficacy as well.

What do you wish you'd done more of?

Exercise!!!! I should have done more bouldering. I get shy going to gyms in general for an unknown reason but I’ll break out of the shell. Reading more books with some directions of learning would have made this year much richer in general. Both fiction and nonfiction. And going to bed early. I am definitely aging and feel exhausted after doing nothing until late at night.

On a side note, I wish I had double checked schedules before booking flights.

Plus, I wish I had studied Spanish. Maybe I’ll make that my New Year’s resolution.

What do you wish you'd done less of?

   Thinking (or talking to myself) without writing down. I wasted a lot of time lamenting the sad reality and status quo of people or norms I encountered on a daily basis, obviously in vain.

    If I write down thoughts and stay objective about them, I would have developed real plans to improve whatever I didn’t like, or at least be convinced and move on to newer topics of thinking. That’ll be my new year’s resolution

  Browsing through social media as if some posts will answer my questions. Now I know it won’t.

Did you fall in love in 2016? 

I feel like I know Jenna Coleman personally after watching Doctor Who straight up.

How many one-night stands?

     hmmmmm actually, zero.

What was your favorite TV program?

   To reiterate, Doctor Who is the best thing that happened. It is holding my mental sanity. Nigeruwahajidaga Yakunitatsu was helpful in seriously considering life in marriage.

Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?

Once Erin Chase told me hate is toxic. Since then whenever I am inclined to hate someone I try indifference instead. I grew indifferent to my relationship with a person this year.

What was/were the best book(s) you read?

   Kasai No Hito [people of family court]. It is a series of comic books that feature a family court judge who restores youth who committed crimes and resolves conflicts of married couples trying to divorce through using metaphors of plants. In the justice system where legal solutions are primary means to “resolve” issues, he is an inspiring counselor-judge who is always watering plants, hiking, and not doing much reading and end up saving lives of those who come to the family court. His words are oddly wise and that was my favorite part.

What were your greatest musical discoveries?

  I can’t think of anything.

What did you want and get?

   I wanted to find a topic of research or interest that is very grabbing. I didn’t find it. Instead, I learned a lot of small facts about child welfare, youth psychology, education systems, etc. And my relationship with Sarasa has become more stable.

What was your favorite film of this year?

Moonlight. I usually watch tons of scifi films, but this film led me to reinforce my interest in welfare. It was viewing black communities as just communities, not black communities. In other words, it invited me into the community and experience it.

What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

    I was facilitating elementary school kids’ discussions on how they are going to teach smartphone rules to even younger children in Kobe. I think they celebrated my birthday, and I was so happy. I turned 25, still unbelievable. 

What did you do for the New Year, Valentine’s, Thanksgiving, Halloween, Christmas, and any other holidays?

   New Year: I reluctantly and thus very slowly studied for an entrance exam to master’s program.

   Valentine’s: I forgot its existence, which exploded Sarasa and she almost broke up with me. So as a token of apology, I sent her a bottled wine with a photo of us in it. To make sure I forgot about it, I printed the date as February 15. LOL

What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? 

  making new local friends to share intellectual and reflective discussions, or doing these things with friends scattered around the world. Now I know this is the most important thing to my life.

  What kept you sane? 

  Monthly hangouts with a friend from Wes. Every month, someone came to visit me. Yvonne, Xian, Matt, Sarasa, thank you! And my family’s constant support is always underrated. Caught up with my personal petty anxiety, reading New York Times and other critical articles on the devastating reality of the world, from changing political climate to humanitarian crises, woke me up and put me right. This was big. Also almost daily skype with Sarasa is the basis of my sanity.

Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

  Jenna Coleman. It was my first time ever googling a celebrity’s name.

Who did you miss?

  Sarasa and all my friends with whom I share deep shit. I miss prof. Miller too. hahaha

Who was the best new person you met?

Sarah, who is helping out the US-Japan youth exchange program. She is always on top of shit and is truly excited to see the kids grow. Definition of trust.

Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2017:

   Sensation fades. Act before thinking, and you will feel joy.

What were your inner conflicts you could not resolve in 2017?

  It is the same conflict that I have been facing all years since college. Do I want to pursue teaching-related work or literature/history related work. But! Writing this made me realize I held a false belief that by getting a teaching experience in Japan I will lose chances to extensively read, write and discuss philosophy, intellectual history and literature in career. Whenever I get bored from finishing tasks related to teaching path, I feel awfully misplaced and am taken over by the nostalgia of intellectual conversations with friends at Wes.

  However, one thing that is clear is that I can continue reading and writing on history and intellectual history through working as a teacher. Let’s not forget that.

  Plus, is nostalgia a proof that I would enjoy going back to academia? What does it mean to read and write and discuss academically?

  Another  conflict I have always had is to live in Japan or in other countries... This has too many factors and everything depends, so I should get over this conflict and be always specific when thinking about locations of residency. And I want to use English, rather than Japanese, for my critical inquiry.

2018 2019               

-get licenses

-intl. exchange program experience

-psych research

-explore topics to inquire about (sociology? contemporary history?)

2020 --> 2022

-teach at elementary/reformatory

-Find what to do next

-Try to produce knowledge (research in psych? soci?)

2023 (age 31)

-PhD in Europe or US

or

-NGO in Mexico --> UNICEF and development career?

2026 (age 34)

-get a teaching position at a university (might not be possible though, with the rise of online education opportunities)

and -Found an organization that does something fun

or

-work for intl. organization while conducting research

2030 (age 40)

-??? cannot even imagine.

What did you like about the projects your worked on? What aspects of those projects do you wish to continue? What other projects do you wish you’d done more of?

1. AK Youth Exchange Project

I liked being paid for the work that helps solve problems that could lead some youth to suicide. It was fun to be the only culturally fluent person to facilitate discussions. Particularly, kids on my side are excited, and I enjoyed being able to be part of the team that can give them this opportunity to them. It feels great to be able to contribute to a local village initiative (Chikusa) that has educational resources that can enrich the lives that touch them. Using my skills to uplift kids with lower self esteem also made me feel good. Writing grant and answering many questions from the grant-giving organization was energy consuming, I think I was able to learn valuable lessons of what to say to whom so that I can invite them into my own world.   I did not like that I had to be swung from left to right by a couple of people who exert age-based authority. I also hate that I do not have a say to certain parts of the project because I am a student. I do not necessarily seek for the highest leadership position, at least I wish I was part of all conversations. I hated being treated as a person who does not have the deciding power. Particularly, the process of paying for my income was not sufficiently explained, and it is still delayed. Those in authority of protecting human rights in Japan are neglecting one of the most important duties. This drives me crazy, I get furious every time I give a thought to this. I will always exchange contracts when there is a salary involved. People really do not care. And be a person who cares. All of the delays could have been avoided if we all met regularly. The problem is that these people say they commit to this without having the necessary time or will to do so. I can’t stand having to be the only listener when I am the youngest. Hate it so much.I would like to continue working on giving chances for youth to think and speak freely about problems and participate in the ecosystem of politics. I guess this is sort of fighting ageism.I hope to do more of intellectualizing this practice-- maybe write a piece to analyze the ecology of this project? Why not! This may lead to a practice report to be published somewhere, talk to Prof. Bauman about it?I was very happy to meet some of the new team members. I would like to continue meeting those who have interests in making the world a better place for disadvantaged youth. It felt nice to connect to a scholar over many rounds of online conferences. I also love traveling, which is so important to my life. I would like to devise more projects that have travel components!! 

2. Getting a teaching license in elementary, junior high and high schooI liked that I had something that would give me a paycheck in a couple of years. One class on human rights was quite an informative and inspiring one in that it taught me precursors who were working for disadvantaged youth and family in rural Japan. That is one reason I can be proud of being a Japanese person.Most of the classes were terrible in that many scholars speak of their ill-informed self-indulgent lectures. Besides understanding the sad reality of malfunctioning academia in Japan, I learned nothing.I wish to continue learning the history of human rights-oriented teachers in the past, and present, globally. That is something that pushes me to work hard to work for disadvantaged people in general. My struggle, in the new lens I just through of, is my tendency to connect with those in the past, rather than those in the present. Or is that what I hope is the case to be the heroin of tragedy?I also have to admit that some classes from Seisa were quite informative in terms of history of education in Japan, as well as what the gov’t has done in shaping the direction of curriculum, effective teaching methods of science and math. That’s not nothing, probably useful skills, but I’m not sure if I can say I fully enjoyed it.

3. Seminars to children and parents 

I definitely enjoyed traveling on train! Train rides make me feel like I am important and so does wearing suits. Pay was very good and I am thankful for that. Conversations with school principals have been somewhat fun, although they aren’t really intellectual. Many of them seem to be swung by newspaper headlines instead of deeply analyzing the reality...  I also enjoyed speaking to an audience of parents and children. The content was developed by Takeuchi-sensei and speaking his content makes me feel like I am doing something good to society, but the thought that it is not mine lingers on. I guess I am learning how to speak, behave and stuff, just instruments. I don’t expect too much from this besides these learning and pay.  I did not like that it was not my original work and that the conversations aren’t so abstract. There isn’t many critical arguments, just questions for the audience. I wish there was more of an discussion that I could provoke in the audience, but to be honest most of the arguments are just plain normative thoughts. I want radical thoughts that change the way I view reality. I want change. I guess boredom overclouds me here.I would like to continue making money from these, but would like to dramatically change slides. At least for children, I want to engage more with them to check the possibility of radical and critical thinking.

4. Flattering Prof. Takeuchi’s students 

  I admit I find it rewarding to engage in conversations with them through critical assessment of the organization. I just complain how authoritarian and dogmatic the organization is in the form of constructive criticism, and I am not sure if some of the sophomores felt my negativity. Talking with sophomores is sometimes fun but I wish we had more of critical discussions on anything. Many students try to say things that please Takeuchi-sensei and I hate that. I would like to be more critical and original in any speech I make and I believe that is how I contribute in general.

I do not desire going to their spring camp and be part of their leadership because I don’t really see myself creating a youth organization where members are uncritical. I also want to discuss intellectual, more challenging things with people who have vocabulary. 

I would like to continue going to smartphone summits occasionally to hear the changing relationships between emerging technology and lives of young people. Besides that, I think I am done and now is the time to move on to my passion, using the communication skills I acquired from these programs.

5. “offline” summer camp

I definitely enjoyed investing my time and energy in working with some of the youth who are struggling with parental over-managing, lack of social skills, lack of communication with parents, etc. When it came down to was their social life problems. It was very inspiring to see that kids who lacked skills to engage with others in effective ways came to be able to do that in 5 days, through extensive chats, play, discussions and simply living together in nature. Structured counseling-like programs also helped them face their problems and claimed the courage to get over.

I enjoyed seeing how kids’ behavior changed, and their emotional energy, not fully expressed, was very pleasant to feel. The camp master’s lessons on “life” felt quite meaningful to be part of, like killing fish taking life and continue the circle of life. What is the point of life?

I was so happy to be able to connect to a girl that at first I didn’t feel would connect to very deeply. She seemed so shy, didn’t talk much, and didn’t show facial expressions. But she cried when I gave her a farewell letter. It taught me that being able to express is a skill that not everyone has the privilege to have. But so what? How much do I care about it? Maybe it was fun but I guess this is sort of like my hobby?

I did not like how youth services people had to call college facilitators over to a kid who was actually intentionally left alone because he was tired of socializing only to show their boss that kids are being cared for. I would argue that an intellectual, confident move would have been to explain fully to their boss that these college facilitators are strategic about engaging with kids, and ask them to articulate their strategies later. I know people aren’t perfect, but it made me angry and Prof should have confronted it. I wish there was more of a critical discussions, rather than top-down advising from camp leaders and adults to youth, honestly. I want more democratic organizational structures with high, and diverse abilities.

“You told me I should be kind to myself. But you should also be more kind to yourself.” -In a letter from a student.

She might have identified the darkness that clouds my path ahead, that I do not know how to satisfy myself. It is true. I do not know what makes me happy honestly. What makes me happy? Writing like this soothes me and makes me feel like I matter to myself. How can I make myself matter to myself?? That is the question this student taught me to think about.

Not sure if summer camps would be my thing, but I would like to continue engaging very deeply with others. Because by doing so, she tried to wonder about my nature and offered such an insightful letter to me. This is a very, very important question to myself. Care for self, and think about what to do that can make me care for myself.

Well but still the song-singing felt so touching and it restored my faith in some of the basic values of being in company with others, having nice friendships.

6. Facilitation for youth programs

  There were some moments I felt quite fulfilling when I was able to help kids be vulnerable and open up. It was also rewarding to compliment them and they seemed really happy and became confident in what they do.

  And the topics included addiction to cyberbullying and usokoku and those are serious concerns for youth. I felt that by being part of the programs that help youth and adults understand the status quo of cyber life, I mattered to the world. That is a great feeling. However, I wish I would be able to feel more Adrenalin pumping though. In other words, although I felt I mattered to the world, I did not matter to myself. To my self, I wasn’t great enough; should my assessment scale be changed or my actions changed?

I would like to continue participating in these programs to better understand both changing and unchanging truth about human lives. but what is actually it that would make me feel like I matter to myself?

7. Volunteer at Kodomohiroba

  This is one of the biggest reasons I feel I would enjoy becoming a school teacher. Every time, I stepped closer to opening up the students who are totally at a loss; parents have brought them to Japan with their reasons and put in school systems that do not have the sufficient support system. But some students seemed so happy talking with me who tries to connect with them through variety of means. It’s like the kids were waiting for me to touch their lives. Maybe they were waiting FOR me to touch their lives so that I can feel like I matter to myself. At the end of each volunteer, I always feel fulfilled, having done great things. Why? It’s not an academic discussion, but I just really enjoy that informal mingling with kids who have different backgrounds and see them open up to me. It’s kind of like me traveling to other countries and meeting with young locals (esp. Mexico) and connecting with them.

I will absolutely continue to volunteer at this organization and find what makes me feel that I matter to myself. Or just simply joy? Is a simply joy enough?

I also enjoyed working with people of various ages and occupations. It is an environment where I can stay faithful in people’s care for civil duty and philanthropy.

I did not like how understanding of students isn’t systematically shared. Maybe I would step up and suggest creating a database of students’ needs, study skills and backgrounds. A

8. Volunteer at elementary schools

It was as joyful as to forget my feeling of being misplaced. I liked my social skills developed a bond with many children. When it comes to building ties, the teachers weren’t an exception. Being able to connect with people as human beings is a rewarding experience. I was particularly happy that children found me interesting, and I found them interesting. With this mutual act of finding each other simply interesting, I cannot help but be nostalgic of the unforgettable sensation and the feeling of my existence mattering to myself through reflective conversations with friends. Maybe I like to be reflective and understand something deep in human thoughts? This leads me to think of reformatory education as one of my potential career paths again. 

I also enjoyed thinking about the role of music in children’s development. From music classes to sports day activities, music seemed to play a large role in facilitating the construction of ties among children. 

There isn’t much I did not like about this project, I think. I would like to continue visiting the elementary school and analyze in what way I want to work with people.

9. Working with UNICEF

I liked that I am working with an intl. organization. That’s cool because it is a symbol of globalization and celebration of cultural diversity. I enjoyed having conversations with some of the smarter people too. Working with UNICEF helped me contextualize seemingly trivial voices of youth I hear hear and there in the changing dialogues of human rights protection.

If possible I would like to keep learning about what is going on around the world. I would love to intern at either in Japan office, NY office or in Mexico to better understand what international organizations can and cannot do, and see how much I like being part of them.

What other projects do you wish you’d done more of?

-I wish I had done more reflective writing and talking. This is to identify project ideas that ring my bell. I am looking for ways to use my life so that I feel I matter to myself.

(Be concrete)

-reading history books for pleasure

-Investment

-read more in psychology, criminology, developmental psych, etc, especially reformatory education-related stuff

-Launch statistical analyses projects

-

New world of career in 2018?

-internship at ...

--> reformatory? can I work with youth on reflection?

-volunteer at...

-try to meet with ...