#however i will continue to believe he is Our Cat Girl Best Friend until. january LOL

[todayisafridaynight]

chitose's secret is that she isnt the streamer but she provided shishido w the original fem ai voicebank

worlds most unexpected crime duo jesus christ. it all makes sense

[starshine583]

Journal Entries (4)

(This journal entry is connected to Chapter 5 of New Girl on the Block!)

Entry 1 / Entry 3

Friday, January 18th

The mystery of Marinette Dupain-Cheng continues to unfold before my very eyes. To start this off, I’ll explain how I came across the new clues in the first place. I visited the Dupain-Cheng bakery (a very quaint shop) to learn how to bake croissants today, as I mentioned the day before.. Marinette’s parents were extremely open and welcoming to us (much like my own mother) and showed us around the kitchen. It was a decent size with at least four ovens. I’d expect nothing less for a successful bakery. M. Tom, Marinette’s father, was the one to teach us, and his teaching skills were relatively easy to follow, especially since I had Marinette as a partner. She may not remember how to watch the time, but she certainly knows how to mix and measure ingredients. Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for Claude to throw our group into chaos once again. Mlle. Sabine requested M. Tom’s assistance for a minimum of five minutes, and in that time, Claude managed to cover himself and Allegra in flour by accidentally dumping the bag. Then, when Marinette tried to get more flour, she tripped and caused us both to fall to the flour, inevitably dumping the flour on myself as well. In hindsight, I probably should have expected her to fall due to her clumsy nature, but at the time, I was too busy rolling my eyes at Claude for wasting the Dupain-Cheng’s assets. After we fell, she picked up the flour bag (Which was extremely heavy. I still don’t know how she lifted it with one hand. Does she secretly lift weights or is she simply accustomed to carrying bags of flour for her father?) and apologized. I told her it was fine, because what could I have done? We were both already ghost white with flour. Getting upset wouldn’t do anything but make her feel worse. Allan started laughing at us, so Marinette threw flour onto him as well. I have to admit, it was the highlight of my day. That is, however, until M. Tom re-entered the room. He was extremely forgiving about the matter, though, even laughing and telling us we had the “baking spirit”. I have yet to find out what that means. Anyway, we finished the croissants, and Marinette’s parents sent us up to her room to take a shower and get changed. Marinette had outfits that she’d designed to give to us. They were positively exquisite. I have no doubt that she’ll make a fine fashion designer once she’s old enough to join the competitive world. Her bedroom is also where I found the “clues” I was referred to earlier. It was a large chest full of various gifts, and upon further inspection, I discovered that they were all gifts for a single person by the name of “Adrien”. My theory is that this “Adrien” fellow is an old flame and possibly the person who’s been following her (She mentioned the perpetrator being a “he”). Could he be trying to reconcile with her? That would certainly explain why she’s avoiding him and why she appeared to be distressed at his presence. I shall do my best to uncover more information.

A few extra things to note, should they be important:

1. Marinette’s room is completely covered in pink. That leads me to believe it is her favorite color.

2. Her love of fashion is quite evident, as there are sketches and sewing needles and such everywhere. She even has a mannequin.

3. She has a few different cat toys strewn across the room, yet I didn’t see a single cat during our visit. Perhaps they put the cat in another room, or she simply plays with the strays that often roam around Paris.

That is all, for now. I’ll be sure to make an update as soon as I can.

-

Dear Diary,

Today was a total blast! Allan, Allegra, Claude, and Felix all came over as planned, and we had so much fun! Felix actually got here a little early, but Maman and Papa definitely didn’t mind. I kind of felt bad for him, though, because that meant he got singled out with their hugs, but he said it was fine. He also said that his mother was kind of like my parents, which is pretty cool. I never really thought about what Felix’s parents would be like, but with how collected and short he can be, I assumed they would be the same way. Knowing that his mom acted like mine makes him feel more.. Human. If that makes sense. Anyway, baking was great. Claude accidentally spilled the flour, though. Then I did a few minutes later. (Right onto Felix too! It was so embarrassing. We were both completely covered) Allan started laughing at us, so Felix suggested that I throw the flour onto him too, which I totally did. We were all dying of laughter. I didn’t think Felix could be such a jokester- aside from his sarcastic remarks -but I guess I’m learning a lot about him now. Papa found our mess right after I threw the flour and asked what happened. Even though I knew we wouldn’t be in trouble, I panicked and just said it was my fault, but everyone immediately stood up for me. Even Felix! It was super sweet. After the croissants, I gave everyone some extra outfits that I finished making recently. They all loved them. :D Then we played games and really just hung out in general. Claude and Allan kept trying to beat me at Mecha Strike 3, but of course, I creamed them. That didn’t stop them from trying, though. Allan said that he had tons of games at his house, and that we should all come over sometime to play! I hope we actually get to do that soon. Maman called us down for supper sometime after that, and Claude absolutely loved it. He scarfed down every bit of it and even asked for some to go! I kind of wonder how he stays so fit with everything he eats. Maybe he just has a fast metabolism. Anyway, they left not too long after that, which I was kind of sad about, but I’ll see them Monday! Chat came by later tonight too, and I noticed he was acting kind of weird. He kept asking me about Dupont and my old friends.. I hope he’s doing okay.

I have to start on homework now, but I’ll talk to you again soon. Goodbye for now, Dear Diary!

[pikapeppa]

Online Dating: A Tale in Six Parts

A couple years ago, I wrote a personal essay for a book project for a friend of a friend. The project leader ultimately rejected my piece because it wasn’t academic enough, to which my response was as follows:

I then promptly forgot about it. But now I’m deciding to publish it here, because why not. So here you go: an autobiographical tale of Pikapeppa’s experiences with online dating. (Please note: this is MY personal experience with online dating as a cis straight woman, and is not meant to be representative of anyone else’s experience but mine, since I can’t knowledgeably comment on that.)

************************

Online Dating: A Tale in Six Parts

Online dating has been widely vilified, especially since so many cis-heterosexual women have such gross experiences with it: unsolicited dick pics, misogynistic insults when you don’t respond immediately, seemingly nice guys who either “ghost” or suddenly become perverts in the blink of a notification.

I’m here to tell a happier story of online dating, and how it restored my faith in my social skills, my confidence in myself - and how I learned a thing or two about relationships along the way.

Part I: Intro

I’m a shy girl.

Let’s be specific. I consider myself an introvert, or an ambivert at a stretch. I have an extremely hard time talking to strangers; I loathe small talk. At parties, my quietness has a direct inverse relationship with the size of the crowd I’m in: the more people there are, the less I say, until I might as well be a piece of furniture in the corner if the party is a big one. I’m most comfortable in small groups of four people max (including myself), and even then, I get uncomfortable if I’m the centre of attention for too long. I generally prefer to listen than to talk. My ideal weekend includes one entire day for recharging at home with just Netflix and my cat for company.

In January 2012, I moved to Montreal for grad school. When I got there, I knew nobody. I’d moved to Montreal wanting a change, as I’d lived in Toronto my whole life. But somehow in my excitement to move, I’d forgotten that a) I had no friends in Montreal and b) I hate talking to strangers and I hate small talk: the two necessary evils of Making Friends. I spent a solid six months by myself, exploring the city in solitude or hanging out in my apartment with my cat, increasingly hating myself for the fact that I had been living in this city for almost a year and still had no friends except for some casual acquaintances whom I’d met at a mingling party for new grad students. I have some embarrassingly angsty journal entries whining about how there must be something wrong with me, because what kind of person can’t make a single friend in six months of living in a new city? I can’t fully express my gratitude that one of my labmates, who was finishing her Master’s degree at the time, took pity on me and invited me out for drinks, eventually becoming my first good friend in Montreal and introducing me to many other amazing women friends.

Eventually I got into my social stride in Montreal. I had friends; I was satisfyingly busy with my graduate work; and I continued to enjoy relaxing with my cat. (I could write a whole chapter devoted to my mental/emotional well-being and my cat, but let’s save that for another time, shall we?) But as my thesis was wrapping up and I started having more free time, I realized that I was ready to add to my social life. I was ready - gasp! - to pursue a romantic relationship.

This was September 2012. By then, I’d been single for about two years, and largely happy without a partner. But aside from being busy with my thesis, there was another significant reason I had not dated anyone in Montreal: I didn’t know how to meet men.

Part II: The foray into online dating

Traditionally, people meet their partners through work, through common interests, or by bumping into them in bars. I wouldn’t be meeting anyone at work because my master’s degree focused on a topic dominated by female academics, so essentially all of my colleagues were women. My interests involved typically homebody activities like movies, reading, and cooking. And my carefully cultivated Resting Bitch Face usually deterred men in bars from approaching me (as well as my pixie haircut, which I purposely got in order to weed out the kind of shallow male who “only likes girls with long hair”.) The graduate community at McGill often had mingling or speed dating events; however, see above regarding my quietness in crowds and hatred of small talk. Long story short, the traditional ways of meeting men were out.

This is where online dating came into the mix. For me, it was a logical and practical choice. I’ve never been interested in casual flings, so I figured that online dating, especially from a paid website, would have a larger number of men who were looking for something more serious. Importantly, online profiles would also provide information about interests and sense of humour, which - praise the Flying Spaghetti Monster! - would mean that small talk could be avoided, since we could talk about common interests. And there was a final reason that online dating appealed to me: I wanted to meet someone whose occupation was NOT at all similar to mine.

Now, this might be a kind of unusual criteria to express for one’s mate. After all, there is a reason that many people meet their partners at work or engaging in common interests: these things provide a common ground for conversation and for connecting. But as much as I enjoyed research and had aspirations to eventually work in healthcare, I didn’t want to date someone who did those things. After all, I had moved to Montreal looking for something new, dammit! I wanted to broaden my horizons. I wanted a partner who could be my Aladdin and show me a Whole New World.

And thus my online dating adventure began.

Part III: The adventure begins

Everyone has different experiences with online dating. I will say this: I found it really fun and interesting. Importantly, it helped me realize that my social skills, in fact, were not total crap. Within two weeks, I’d gone on dates with a handful of nice, normal-seeming men from a variety of professions. Each time, I went home pleased that I’d had a pleasant, functional conversation with a stranger, without the situation devolving into awkward silence due to my inability to talk like a normal human.

The dating experience was also an important confidence booster. When you’ve been single for two years without any hint of interest from the opposite sex, it’s easy to start thinking you’re deficient in some way. With a handful of successful dates under my belt, I was finally starting to believe that my singledom really was circumstance and not social ineptitude. It also reminded me of something else I’d forgotten during the moping self-pity of my first six months in Montreal: given the right circumstances, I actually enjoy flirting. Dates were actually kind of the perfect social situation for me: one-on-one conversation with a person who you already have things in common with, and with whom you can practice your witty repartee? After two weeks, I felt renewed, confident, and like I had choices - a lot of choices.

Part IV: Disaster strikes (in the most inconsequential first-world-problems kind of way)

Another important role that online dating had in my life was that it led to my first experience of being hurt in a relationship. Here is how it happened: I met a guy with whom I had “chemistry”. Ah, yes, chemistry: that vague, indefinable concept that, in my case, really just meant I had met a guy I was really attracted to. We went on two really fun dates, and then spent a weekend together - and I, being naive, thought I had found my next boyfriend. But a few dates later, he suddenly (and apologetically and politely) said he didn’t think we should see each other anymore.

I was frankly crushed. I’d been incredibly lucky in that by the age of twenty-something, I’d never been dumped or rejected romantically… so this experience of rejection hit me hard. I cried. I drank three beers (a lot for me!) and watched The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo with much maudlin relish. I blasted happy music to drown out my angsty thoughts, and I pow-wowed with my best friends to analyze and re-analyze everything he had said and done. And I was crushed anew when I went on the dating site again to see that he was still active. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to date; it was that he didn’t want to date me. And that really hurt.

Part IV: Wisdom

Ultimately, I’m thankful I was rejected, because I learned a lot of important lessons:

Don’t be tricked by “chemistry”! Rom-coms tell us that chemistry is the most important thing. It’s not. At all. “Chemistry” just means “immediate sexual attraction”. This is not a wise thing on which to base an entire relationship.

Rom-coms also teach us that a guy who doesn’t want a relationship will eventually come around if you are charming enough. This is not true.

Just because someone treats you nicely, doesn’t mean they want the same thing in a relationship as you. Listening to what your date is telling you - i.e. “I don’t know if I want a serious relationship” (yep, the guy who dumped me literally said this on our second date) - is very important.

Many newly single men just don’t know how to be alone, so they start online dating even if they aren’t ready for a new relationship… and they may not realize they don’t want a new relationship until after they’ve started one. The lesson here: be up-front about your relationship expectations/goals and candidly ask your dates about theirs.

Most importantly of all, I learned firsthand what it feels like for someone you want to not want you back. My taste of rejection was the briefest, most inconsequential taste - a week-long fling, compared to committed relationships or divorces. But it was enough to foster a stronger empathy for the pain of rejection and heartbreak, and I feel that this alone was absolutely worth it.

This list of lessons may sound skeptical or discouraging. But I actually found my new knowledge to be incredibly comforting. I now had a set of rules that I could use to better play the dating game - and this time, I was sure I would succeed. Armed with my newfound dating wisdom, I ventured into the world of online dating again, with a different site (a fresh start!) and a cautiously optimistic outlook.

Part V: The Artist

My second attempt at online dating, like the first, was fun. As before, I dated many nice, polite men and had pleasant, interesting conversations. And then I met The Artist.

My first date with The Artist, as I called him in those early days, was as pleasant as any first date I’d gone on. But he had this huge, uninhibited smile, and his laugh was larger-than-life and more enthusiastic than any laugh I’d heard in my life. On our second date, I told him openly that I was dating many people, but that he was my favourite so far. He smiled and nodded agreeably. On our third date, he kissed me… and without either of us saying so, we both knew our online dating careers were at an end. More than six years later, The Artist and I are engaged and living happily with our Playstation, our cat, and some gently wilting plants.

Yes, I just summarized my relationship in a single paragraph. But my goal here isn’t to wax poetic about my fiancé. It’s to point out that without online dating, I would never met him. He works in a completely different profession from mine, and at the time that we met, he lived and worked in different neighbourhoods from me. Our social circles would never have overlapped. But online dating brought us together in more subtle ways as well. My positive experiences in early dates gave me the confidence to continue dating after I got rejected. My experience of rejection led me to try a different dating website - the site that he was on. And the lessons I learned from being rejected led me to a wiser, more open approach to dating and relationships in general - an approach that The Artist appreciated. Given this analysis, I would argue that online dating doesn’t deserve the credit for my relationship, but it does deserve the credit for pushing me out of my comfort zone and giving me experiences that helped me develop into the emotionally mature, pragmatic, and confident woman who eventually captivated a similarly mature and pragmatic man.

Part VI: Conclusions and caveats

My biggest caveat is that I used online websites with paid memberships. As I mentioned earlier, I figured that people who are paying are more likely to be looking for a serious relationship, since paying requires commitment, whereas unpaid sites would have more people who were dabbling or “just curious”. I never used Tinder or Bumble, where online dating is like a game. A friend also recently suggested that I may have had such an easy time with online dating because, in her words (NOT MINE), I am “a babe”. But if you take anything away from this essay, let it be this: online dating is not all bad or all good. Like old-fashioned dating, it’s a complex phenomenon that takes on the biases and colours that you bring into it. And like old-fashioned dating, it can provide new experiences that will let you learn things about yourself - and about love, and life in general - that you didn’t know.

Don’t let online dating define your love life. Let it be a tool to learn about yourself, and maybe, like me, you’ll be pleasantly surprised.

[jesynelsonfinnbalor]

12. Part 1: Cathy Challenges Jesy

Two Part Summerslam Chapter

Raw Before Summerslam

Jesy and Fergal are at Raw together. "I can't believe Summerslam is right around the corner," Jesy said. "I know. I'm ready for Summerslam. Are you excited?" Fergal asked. 

"Oh yes, I am. I can't wait until you beat Baron Corbin," she said smiling. "I'll pretend he's Harry Byart and beat living hell out of him for you," he said.

Jesy giggled. "You better get glammed up," he said to her. 

Jesy nodded and headed to ake up area. As she turned the corner, she saw Harry Byart, however, she didn't see Catherine Kelley. 

She hid away. "Jesy, you okay?" Renee asked. "He's here," she whispers. "Who is?" Renee asked. 

"My abusive ex Harry Byart. Catherine's boy-toy," she said. "Should I tell Fergal?" Renee asked. "No, I'm gonna ignore him," Jesy said. 

Fergal was in heading to the locker room. "Fergal....." Catherine's voice.

He turned around and saw Catherine. "What the hell do you want?" he asked. 

"Where's Jesy at?" she asked. "Why do you care? Just leave me and her alone," he said trying to walk away.

"Send Jesy a message for me. Tell her I want to fight her," she said.

"She'll kick your ass if you fight her. Please leave me and Jesy alone," he said. He walked away. 

Jesy was getting ready to cut a promo for herself and why she's in the WWE. "Nervous?" Fergal asked her.

"Nope. I know that Catherine and Harry are here. Plus Catherine wants to fight me at Summerslam," she said.

"Oh. Are you going to accept her challenge?" he asked. "Yes. I am gonna give her an extreme makeover," she said smiling.

"Jesy, they are ready for you," Vince said. Jesy nodded. "Here I go," she said. "I'll be out here, watching this monitor," he said. 

In-Ring Segment

Jesy has her own theme song, which is Salute by her girl group; Little Mix.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Miss Jesy Nelson," JoJo said. Jesy walking down the ramp to the ring.

She got in the ring, got a mic and stood in the ring. "Last week on Raw, Jesy, you made her presence known when she came out with Finn Bálor. She showed Constable Baron Corbin what she can do," Michael Cole said. 

Her music ended. "Jesy Nelson!" the crowd chanted. Charly Caruso was in the ring getting ready to interview me.

"Jesy, thank you for joining me for this interview," Charly said. "Thank you, Charly," Jesy said. 

"Two weeks ago, you made your first appearance on Monday Night Raw, when you slapped Constable Baron Corbin across the face then you jumped over the barricade to check on Finn Bálor, then last week, you did this," Charly said, showing a clip.

*plays the clip*

The fans started cheering. "Corbin deserved it," they chanted. "How did you feel about doing that to Baron Corbin?" Charly asked.

"It felt good but I will feel much better to do that to Cathy Kelley," Jesy said. 

"Speaking of Cathy Kelley, she challenges you to a match. Not just any kind of match, she wants a match at Summerslam. In a Brooklyn Street Fight," Charly said. Jesy started laughing. "Is she joking?" Jesy asked.

Catherine Kelley has her own theme song; Work Bitch by Britney Spears, then she starts running to the ring then Charly leaves the ring as Cathy attacks Jesy from behind then starts giving her right hands. Then she gets off Jesy.

The WWE Universe is booing Cathy. "Aw..come on!" Renee yelled. Cathy started gloating.

Jesy got up and turned her head with an angered look on her face. "Uh-oh, look at Jesy's face," Corey said, on commentary. 

Cathy turned around as Jesy charges at her with a scream. The crowd starts cheering for Jesy. "Here we go!" Renee said on commentary.

"There they go," Michael Cole said. "Look at Jesy go! She's learned how to fight," Corey said on commentary.

Two security guards came out to stop them. WWE Universe starts booing at the security.

Cathy and Jesy started slapping them and kicking them out of the ring. 

The crowd started cheering again. Jesy and Cathy continue to fight, Cathy tries to get out of the ring but Jesy kept holding Cathy by the hair while Cathy pulls on hers.

Harry pulls Cathy out of the ring. Then Fergal comes out and pulls Jesy back. "Babe, calm down," Fergal said. Jesy picked up the mic catching her breath. 

Harry held on to Cathy. "Catherine, you want to fight me so badly? You got it. Jesy Nelson vs Cathy Kelley, in a Brooklyn Street Fight," Jesy said. 

"Your dead, Jesy!" Cathy said. "This Sunday, I will make you my damn bitch just like that bastard with you made you his," Jesy said, dropping the mic down. Fergal got a pissed off look on his face when he sees Harry.

"At Summerslam, it was will be Jesy Nelson vs Cathy Kelley in a Brooklyn Street Fight match," Michael Cole said, on commentary. "I can not wait to see this match," Corey said, on commentary.

Later that night

Jesy and Fergal got back to their hotel room. "Dang babe, you two went at it like cats," Fergal said, giving Jesy ice for her eye.

"That bitch had it coming," Jesy said, putting the ice pack on her eye as she hisses.

"That she did. I know you'll beat her at Summerslam," he said.

"I'm gonna give her the most extreme makeover that she has ever had in her life," she said. 

"That's my girl. Speaking of Summerslam, my parents are coming and guess who's coming to support you?" he asked. 

"My girls," she said. "Yes. Plus," he said. Someone knocks on the door.

Fergal went to answer the door. "We have our special guests," he said. 

Janice walks in. "MUMMY!" Jesy said running to her mum and hugs her. "Jesy, guess who I have with me," Janice said. 

Janice puts the pet carrier down. Reggie and Oscar came out of it. "Reggie! Oscar!" Jesy cried as she held them. Reggie and Oscar are happy to see Jesy. 

"My boys. How did you get them from Harry?" she asked. "Harry left them with Perrie and Alex," Janice said.

"Thank you. Mum, I get to have my debut match this Sunday," she said. "I saw and kick that Catherine girl's butt," Janice said.

"Don't worry, Mum, I will," she said smiling. "Okay well I'm going back to my hotel room and I'll see you two in the morning," Janice said.

"Thanks, Janice and we will," he said, side hugging Janice.

Janice headed to her own hotel room. Fergal sat on the bed with Jesy, Reggie, and Oscar.

"Reggie, Oscar, meet your new daddy," Jesy said. Reggie stayed with Jesy but Oscar laid on Fergal's lap. 

Fergal petted Oscar. "Is this one Oscar?" he asked Jesy. "Yes, that's Oscar and this brown one is my first baby Reggie," she said.

"Our fur kids," he said, smiling. Jesy smiles back. He kissed Jesy's forehead. She smiles softly. 

"I love you, future hubby," Jesy said. "I love you too, my fiancèe," he said. They both smiled and laid down.

Reggie walked over to Fergal and licked his face. "Reggie loves kisses," she said smiling.

He smiles. "Let's get some sleep," he whispers. She nodded.

Reggie and Oscar laid down on the foot of the bed. Jesy and Fergal cuddled each other.

Meanwhile at Catherine's Place

Cathy was in the bathtub with hot water and bubbles. "Fucking bitch," she said. Harry got in with her, holding her close. 

"Don't worry, you'll get at her. I want you to beat her senseless," Harry said. "I am gonna make her wish she wasn't even born," she said.

"Finish what I started with her," he said, grabbing Cathy's hair. She smirks and enjoys it.

"Anything for you, my Dom," she said smiling. "That's my Letty," he said, kissing her deeply. They both get rough. 

Next Two Days; Three Days Before Summerslam

Fergal took Jesy with him to his favorite coffee shop in Brooklyn. "Beautiful day," Jesy said.

"As beautiful as you," he said, opening the door for her. "This is my favorite coffee shop," he said. "It's nice," she said. 

Fergal orders his usual. Jesy orders her favorite Frappe with expresso. Fergal pays for them.

"Here you go," the clerk said. Jesy and Fergal left the coffee shop. They walked on the Brooklyn Bridge. 

Perrie, Jade, and Leigh-Anne were waiting for them. "There they are," Leigh said.

"Hey Jes," Leigh said, hugging her. "Hey girls," Jesy said as she hugs them all. "Hey, Fergal," they all said. "Hey girls," Fergal said. 

"How are you love birds?" Alex asked. "We're good," Fergal said. "Good, just can't wait until I fight Catherine," Jesy said.

"We'll be at ringside to support and cheer you on," Jade said.

"And Fergal, if you see Harry tries to interfere, kick his ass for us and Jesy's honor," Perrie said.

"I will but I have to go through Baron Corbin first," Fergal said. "He'll kick his ass as well," Jesy said. 

"I will, baby," Fergal said, kissing her head. Jesy smiles. "You two are so cute together," Jade said, smiling then tears up. "Oh Jade, don't cry," Jesy said, hugging Jade.

"I'm not. These are happy tears. Fergal, there's something I want to tell you," Jade said.

Fergal nodded. "I want to say thank you for being there for Jesy. If she didn't leave Harry, she would have been hurt or worse left for dead. I thank you for saving her and loving her. She's more than my best friend, she's my sister from another mister. You are the best thing to happen to her," Jade said, wiping her tears. 

Fergal hugged Jade. "Thanks, Jade. That means a lot," he said. "Fergal, you are Jesy's one true love. Her everything and her favorite person in the world. She deserves you and everything. She's the luckiest girl in the whole universe," Leigh said.

"Thank you, Leigh," he said smiling. Perrie looks at Fergal and Jesy.

"You two are perfect for each other. I prayed that you would come into Jesy's life and be part of her life. Life is too short and precious. You have saved her life and we thank you for everything. We are officially calling you our honorable brother," Perrie said smiling. 

Perrie hugged Jesy first then Fergal hugged them both. Leigh and Jade hugged them.

They all stopped hugging, wiping their tears. Jesy held on to Fergal as he placed his head on her head. They smiled. 

"Should we tell them?" Jesy asked. "What's going on?" they all asked.

"We should. Jesy and I actually saved a date for our wedding," Fergal said. 

"When?" they asked. "January 4th, 2019," Fergal said. "Yayy!!" all three cheered. 

To be continued....

Part two will be posted after Summerslam

Tags: @gothicninibalor @balorbj @candicelerae @beckygirl95 @thegloriousdisaster and anyone else...

[this-is-a-chat-astrophe]

Unmarked

Soulmate au oneshot full of Marichat

AO3

They always thought they’d be alone forever. There had been stories of people whose soulmate mark didn’t appear by their thirteenth birthday, but for their first thirteen years Marinette and Adrien thought it was only a story. When their birthdays came and passed, they knew.

Sometimes Adrien felt like that’s why his mother left, because he was defective. He thought maybe that’s why his father became cold. He felt truly lucky to at least have Nathalie, who was the closest thing to a parental figure in his life. Maybe the lack of a mark was why his father forbid him from attending school, to protect him from the ridicule and hate. It took years to convince his father to let him attend school. Whenever magazines asked about his mark, he lied and said it was a secret. Nobody speculated that he didn’t have one for two reasons; one, a lot of famous people refused to reveal their marks, and two, it was practically unheard of to not have one. The last case of an unmarked person was decades ago in the United States; there was no documentation of an unmarked in Paris in all of history.

Marinette’s family was much more understanding. They gave her options and kept their promise of unconditional love. Instead of being forced to hide, Marinette chose to be open. She did not advertise her lack of a mark, but whenever someone asked she told the truth. Some were disgusted, others confused. The bakery even lost some customers but her parents never blamed her for that. She wasn’t happy with the hand life dealt her but she was determined to make the most of it. Years of consoling words from her parents prepared her for a lonely life.

Then a misunderstood blond gave her an umbrella and everything changed. For the first time ever she felt a romantic attraction, a craving for love.

Marinette felt dirty. Adrien already belonged to someone, or at least that’s what she was lead to believe, so she had no right to those feelings.

She both loved and hated being Ladybug. She loved that she could lie about not having a mark and go unjudged. She hated feeling like she had to lie.

Ladybug had been asked several times about her soulmate, but nobody thought to ask Chat Noir.

Then, one day, they did.

“I don’t have one.”

It was a scandal, front page on all newspapers and news websites. Admiration towards the charming cat turned to an overwhelming amount of hate. People yelled at him in the streets, the same hurtful words Marinette heard in her civilian life. Adrien finally understood what his father protected him from.

Seeing the hate Chat faced, Ladybug couldn’t lie to him anymore. On a cold January evening patrol, shivering in her super-suit, she told him the truth.

“I don’t have a soulmate mark. I lied. I didn’t want the hate I face in my civilian life to get in the way of protecting Paris.” Marinette knew this confession would reveal her identity -Marinette was the open unmarked in all of France- but she couldn’t hide it from him anymore.

Chat Noir smiled, soft and sad; he’d seen the hate Marinette faced. Nobody was stupid enough to attack a superhero with the power of destruction, but a teenage girl was a much easier target. Luckily, she seemed a skilled enough fighter to generally take care of herself. However, Chat still occasionally dropped in when the odds seemed particularly skewed.

“Maybe this is our mark, Bugaboo.”

Ladybug laughed and burst into tears.

The next day, Marinette went to school feeling like a weight was lifted. The heroes decided to continue lying to the press -protecting Paris was hard enough with one half of the dynamic duo hated- but she felt better now that Chat knew the truth. She thought nothing could ruin her good mood.

Then she saw Freakshow graffitied on her locker. It’d been weeks  since the last incident and foolishly let her guard down. She took out her books and did not cry. If anything, she was angry, but she held herself together.

To nobody’s surprise, Chloe tipped the scale and made Marinette snap. She was fine when greeted with “Oh look, the loser is here.” She walked calmly to her desk while Chloe said “How sad is it that nobody will ever love her.” It was Chloe’s next remark that made Mari’s blood boil and turned her vision red.

“It’s huge news that Chat Noir is unmarked too. Maybe that freak of nature will love her.”

Marinette threw her pen, leaving a streak of ink on Chloe’s jacket as it flew past. The blond’s mouth gaped.

“Chat is not a freak. You take that back!”

Chloe smirked. “Everyone in Paris has a mark except for you too. That obviously means you’re defective. The way he always screws things up for Ladybug makes him only slightly worse than you.”

Marinette lunged forward.

Chloe screamed.

Alya held Marinette back until the bell rang. Marinette took her seat, fuming. She had no pen.

Adrien visited Marinette that night as Chat Noir. They weren’t close as civilians and he felt that Chat Noir was better suited to comfort her.

He found her on the balcony, curled up in a blanket with a cup of steaming tea. “I heard about the fight at school.”

She opened her blanket to invite him in. The two sat side by side, the blanket draped over their shoulders. “We’re not ‘defective’.”

Chat rested his head on hers. “I know.”

They sat like that till the winter chill breached the blanket and Marinette ad to go inside.

On days when Marinette seemed really down and there wasn’t patrol, Chat visited her balcony. Whenever something upset her she went up there and waited, knowing he would come.

Then one night he didn’t.

Marinette’s day had been awful. On her way to school people yelled cruel words at her and one boy only slightly younger than her was bold enough to trip her on the busy street. Nobody offered to help her up but plenty of people trampled her things. Luckily Tikki hid in her jacket pocket that morning and went unharmed.

At school, her locker and desk had been covered in curses. Again. Chloe’s sunny disposition did not help but Mari tried her best to drown it out. Alya was out sick and nobody else dared to defend her.

After school Sabine sent her on an errand. The trip wasn’t far, only a few blocks, but she still managed to get shoved into an alley and ambushed by three older teenagers. On a good day she could hold her own long enough to find an opening to escape, but Alya’s cold spread to her and her usual agility faded. Luckily, someone stepped in. Unluckily, teenage model Adrien Agreste stepped in. The two put up a fight but weren’t fortunate enough to leave unharmed.

“It’s okay, just bruises and scratches.” He winced when he tried to smile. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’ve been through worse.”

That didn’t make him feel better.

Adrien escorted her on the rest of her journey to the grocery and back home despite her insistence that it was unnecessary and she was fine. They both knew it was a lie but didn’t say it.

Now she waited on her balcony with the blanket and tea, waiting.

The one time Adrien’s father paid attention to him and all he wanted was to escape. Gabriel sat at the far end of the table, a frown on his face as always, scolding his son for his recklessness.

By the time he released Adrien, it was late and he and Plagg were too tired to go out. Despite his nonchalance about his wounds, they hurt and there was no magical cure to fix them. He promised himself to visit early the next morning and leave a surprise.

But Marinette didn’t know that, so she fell asleep on the balcony with tears in her eyes. She was still there when Chaat arrived in the morning.

Chat originally felt bad coming so early but upon finding Mari sleeping outside he became glad. “Mari, wake up.” No answer. He nudged her with a gloved hand. “Mari, you fell asleep.” In a last ditch effort he said, “Oh no, Mari! You’re late for school!”

Marinette shot up, knocking the blanket to the floor with a scream. Her eyes went wide at the sight of Chat. “What’re you doing here?”

Her feline friend handed her a gift bag, smiling sheepishly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come last night. Family stuff. Apology gifts?”

“You don’t need to apologize and you definitely didn’t need to get me anything.” Sticking out the top of the bag was a bouquet of pink and white carnations. Underneath that wasa card.

“Read that after I leave, if that’s okay.”

She set it aside and pulled some fabric from the bottom of the bag. Unfolded, they were Agreste brand shirts and sweaters. Man’s Agreste brand shirts and sweaters.

Chat rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I remembered you saying you like that designer and I never wear those anymore and my friend told me that some people find it comforting to wear friend’s stuff when they can’t be around so I thought you might like those but if you don’t it’s totally okay.”

He didn’t expect a hug.

“Thank you. This is really nice of you.” Marinette picked out a light blue hoodie that matched her eyes.”Do you want to come inside? I can get us some croissants.”

Adrien took a few seconds to contemplate. He should go home before anyone notices him missing, but a few minutes wouldn’t hurt. “Just a few minutes, Princess, then I should go home.”

A few minutes turned into an hour as Marinette recounted the woes of her previous day. Chat wished he’d visited sooner and that he could stay longer, but he had to leave.

That school day wasn't so bad with her new blue sweater to keep her warm in the winter chill.

“Hey girl, is that new?”

Marinette beamed, nodding vigorously.

Nino looked behind him to see what they were talking about. Upon seeing the hoodie, he turned to Adrien. “Hey, dude, didn’t you have one like that?”

Adrien nodded all the while thinking shiiiiiiiit. “Yeh, it’s my dad’s brand.”

Mari sunk into her seat, the hooded sweatshirt engulfing her. It was a gift from a friend.”

Alya eyes her closely knowing Marinette had hardly any friends. She said nothing about it, though, knowing her friend would explain when she was ready.

Alya wasn’t a very patient person and ambushed Mari during lunch.

Mari sighed, knowing that Alya wouldn’t stop till she got an answer. “Come home with me for lunch and I’ll explain.”

The girls settled into Marinette’s room with food and tea. “Spill.”

“The sweater is from Chat Noir. We’re friends.”

As expected, Alya screamed. “Do you think you could ask him for an interview?”

Mari agreed. Thankfully Alya maintained her respect for Chat and continued to report on the news objectively, as opposed to a lot of reporters who now painted Chat Noir in a different light.

Marinette roped Chat into the interview that night. She hadn’t expected him, her day went surprisingly well, so the knock on the roof hatch surprised her. His excuse was that his patrol led him to the area but honestly he wanted to see her in his sweater again and wanted to know if she'd read his card.

The hoodie was gone but Marinette did not disappoint. Instead, Mari wore a green shirt he’d gifted with plaid pajama pants.

“Nice shirt. It looks purr-fect on you.”

Mari rolled her eyes and cut to the chase. “Alya knows we’re friends and asked me to ask you for an interview.”

The next night was joint patrol so the trio met the night after in Mari’s living room while her parents were out for date night.

Several minutes of fangirling eventually led to the actual interview.

A: Do you enjoy being one of Paris’ heroes?

CN: I don’t think Paris really thinks of me as a hero anymore, but I enjoy being Chat Noir and working with Ladybug.

A: Do you think Ladybug views you differently knowing you’re unmarked?

CN: No way. Ladybug treats me the same as always. We’re a team and she constantly reminds me of it.

A: What are your thoughts on the change in how people treat you since you revealed that you are unmarked?

CN: I think people are afraid of different. It doesn’t justify how they act towards me or Marinette, the other open unmarked Parisian. The way I’m treated isn’t good but I can handle the mean words. Marinette’s treatment is far worse, and she’s brave enough to endure it all of the time. I only bare it in costume.

A: How well do you know Marinette?

CN: We’re friends. I’ve saved her a few times, from both akuma and civilians. It helps having someone who understands.

A: Has Ladybug voiced any thoughts about you being friends with a civilian?

CN: Ladybug has told me that she’s glad I no longer feel alone.

A: Do you think the absence of a mark could actually be your mark?

CN: Maybe, but it’s all speculation. It’s weird thinking there may be someone in this world for me after spending years convinced I’d be alone forever.

Alya whipped the camera around to Marinette, who was sitting on the floor playing Ultimate Mecha Strike III muted on the television.

A: Marinette, what do you think?

M: *not looking away from the screen* Chat Noir is a good person who deserves to be treated better, especially after working so hard to protect this city and the people in it.

The camera swung back around to Alya to close up the interview. She thanked the pair for the interview then left to post it on the Ladyblog.

“Do you think she’s right?”

Marinette paused her game and turned to Chat. “About what?”

They locked eyes, blush flooding both their faces.

“About the lack of a mark being our mark.”

“I don’t know.” Marinette gave Chat the controller. “To be honest, I wouldn’t mind being soulmates with you.”

Chat picked up the game, fiddling with the controls. It was a nice thought, having someone to love.As a child he thought it a guarantee. Little Adrien often played wedding and house games, fantasizing about a kind, funny soulmate. Maybe Marinette could fill that void. The thought made him realize that something important was missing from their friendship.

“You don’t know who I am.”

Chat put down the controller, letting his avatar die. Silence dragged on.

The front door rattled.

Muffled by the door, Tom said, “I guess Mari locked the door.”Mari took the jingle of keys as her cue to shove Chat up the stairs.

“Hide in my room,” she whispered.

While he ran up the stairs she moved back down them, reaching the last step as the door flew open. “Maman, Papa! How was dinner?”

She sat down with her parent, listening to their recount of the night, hoping desperately that Chat hadn’t escaped into the night.

A few minutes into their story Mari interrupted her parents with a fake yawn. “Can I go to bed? I promise I’ll listen to the rest tomorrow.”

Tom kissed her forehead. “Of course. Don’t forget that you’re helping us with those two big wedding order tomorrow.”

A brilliant idea formed in Marinette’s head. “Can I invite a friend to help?”

“Of course,” said Sabine, “as long as it’s not Nino. He’s a wonderful boy but he made quite a mess last time he tried to help.”

Tom and his daughter laughed. “Dear, he was eight years old.”

Mari kissed her parent’s cheeks and bid them goodnight.

To her surprise, Chat waited. Sitting in her desk chair, he greeted her with a grin. “Hi.”

Marinette sat on the floor next to him. He moved to leave the chair but she waved him off. “Are you busy tomorrow?”

Chat mentally opened his calendar, recalling the late-afternoon photo shoot and otherwise empty day. “I have a work thing in the evening but that’s all. Why?”

“We have to do two big orders in the bakery tomorrow and we’d love some extra hands.”

The cat’s face burst into a smile for a split second before scrunching into a scowl. “I can’t just show up as Chat Noir.”

Mari looked away, busying her hands by moving fabrics off her desk. “You don’t have to if you don’t want.”

He gasped. This meant… “You want to know my identity?”

“It’s up to you, mon chaton.,” she answered, deflecting the question. The honest answer was yes, she wanted to know. Marinette wanted to go to the movies and park and just out with her best friend , not just hide away. She trusted him.

Chat was giddy; now they could interact at school as themselves instead of Chat dying inside every time Mari was distant or awkward with him as Adrien. She was never like that with Chat, and now they could be free.

“What time should I be here?”

“As early as you’re willing. We’re not going to make you be here at 4:30 to help us right when we start.”

Chat grinned, standing from his seat. “4:30 it is, Princess.” Then he was climbing up the stairs to the loft and reaching for the roof hatch handle.

“It’s really not necessary!” Mari shouted.

Chat stopped and turned to her just long enough to wink. “Don’t forget to read the card, Bugaboo.”

The moment the roof hatch closed behind him, Marinette opened the card from that morning.

“Dear Buginette,” it began. Marinette snorted; he thought he was so clever. “I know things are hard and I wish I could be around more to help. We’re a team whether I’m physically there or not. The clothes are a reminder in case you ever forget that I’m always in your corner cheering you on. I just hope that when you eventually find out who I am you won’t be too disappointed. No matter what I’ll always be your partner, and hopefully you’ll always be mine. Love, your favorite alley cat.”

The letter put everything into perspective for Marinette. She liked Chat, maybe even loved him. She’s sure she could. And why not? Neither of them had a soulmate and this was their chance to be happy with someone. But it wasn’t the idea of being with just anyone that got Marinette’s heart racing; it was the dea of Chat loving her that spread a blush over her cheeks.

That night, instead of nightmares, her dreams were sweeter than anything her parents had ever baked.

The next morning Marinette woke up easily, to her parent’s surprise. Usually they had to drag her out of bed whenever she needed to be up early. Today she was showered, dressed, and in the bakery as 4:26am.

“Is your friend coming, dear?” Sabine asked, handing her daughter a croissant from the day before.

Marinette gladly accepted the food and slipped a chunk into her purse for Tikki; it wasn’t a cookie but it’d do for now. “Yes Maman.”

“What time should we be expecting them?”

A knock on the bakery door stole their attention.

“I’ll get it!”

Marinette stopped halfway to the door. She hadn’t expected to see her classmate on the other side of the glass.

Adrien smiled shyly and waved, hoping she wouldn’t notice how nervous or stiff he was.

She did, and the sight reminded her of every time someone asked about her mark. The fear of being rejected, the hope of being accepted, all of that was reflected in this boy. The same boy who gave her an umbrella and nearly stole her heart ended up stealing it anyway.

Marinette marched up to the door and opened it with a smile. “Thanks for coming, Adrien. It’s nice to see you.”

After letting out an audible breath of relief, Adrien smiled back. “It’s nice to be seen.”

[loweredexpectations365]

Alternative Facts & My Approach to the Constant Struggles of Life

In my over nearly 30 years of experience on earth (if you don’t get the “over nearly” joke, watch the New Girl season 5 episode 2, “What About Fred?” - it’s very funny), I’ve developed a scientific (read: not based on science at all) approach to life that, over time, has helped me better frame the world around me and has even (occasionally) reduced my misery just the slightest bit. This approach is what I call "Lowered Expectations": the practice of reducing (and even eliminating, as much as possible) your expectations of any given situation in life. 

Having lowered expectations allows you to spend less time worrying about the future, and helps you focus on the present by letting go of your expectations of yourself and everything around you. This means less overall disappointment, self deprecation, guilt and remorse when things in life don’t meet your expectations. Now, I’m no expert, so obviously this is mostly stuff I made up in my head, but it’s 2018 and most things on the internet are made up nowadays, and Trump is president, so nothing really matters.

I genuinely (am trying to) have lowered expectations for what the impact of writing my thoughts down is on myself or anyone that stumbles upon this nonsense. That’s the beauty of lowered expectations: my productivity increases because I spend less time worrying about the outcome of a situation and whether it will meet my unreasonably high and unrealistic expectations, and more time executing with at least a shred of confidence. I imagine it’s an extreme version of this type of approach to life that has made Donald Trump so “successful” - he clearly has zero expectations of himself to be a decent president or human being, yet he keeps operating with exponential levels of confidence at everything he does. I’m not saying having lowered expectations will help you become the next president of the united states of america (although apparently we’ll pretty much let anyone do it), but theoretically, having lowered expectations could help you decrease the time you spend worrying about things that don’t matter and holding yourself back.

For some context on my current state in life (maybe this will help you decide whether you think this blog is any source of value or not): I’m currently traveling to India to visit my family for the next 3 weeks. I’ve wrapped up my work and my apartment, left my cat with my roommate (separation anxiety has already ensued - also it should surprise no one that the author of a blog called "lowered expectations" has a cat), and hopped on a 16 hour flight to Delhi with my mom. This flight will be followed by a 2 hour layover, and then a final 3 hour flight to Bangalore - where my uncle will pick us up at the airport and drive us 45 minutes through nightmarish India traffic to his very nice apartment. I figure being on a plane with the sound of babies screaming and children kicking my seat and the horrible headache inducing lighting is as good a time as any to practice being in the moment and invest my time in something I care about while blasting music as loudly as I can in my AirPods (to drown out the screaming). The problem with small children on planes is that they are absolutely adorable to look at, but they NEVER SHUT UP. Without fail, I am always seated near an infant that can’t stop wailing for my entire 5 million hour flight. At this point, I don’t expect my international flights to be peaceful - so I have to create my own peace by writing (that was cheesy, sue me).

The concept of lowered expectations was inspired by my extremely zen goal of having fewer expectations of my life, myself, and the people around me. This way, I wouldn’t be disappointed when life didn’t meet my expectations, because I didn’t have any to begin with. Having lowered expectations became a goal of mine after reading a bunch of self help books when I was terribly depressed last year. 2017 was an absolutely terrible year for me. Against all odds, Trump had just been elected, then my best friend suddenly passed away, I went through a rough break up with my boyfriend of 3 years, and then I got freaking psoriasis on my legs (if you look at my shins, it now looks like I was in a motorcycle accident, and it’s incurable - super attractive). It sucked. But 2017 wasn’t the only shitty year in my life. It seemed like I spent most of my life being sad because life didn’t meet my expectations. As a child, my dad left, so my expectation of having a normal and happy family was shot. When I got older, I dated a bunch of asshole guys who lied and cheated and were generally awful, so my expectation of what love looked like was shot. When I got to college, I struggled with depression, anxiety, panic attacks, and ulcers, making my college experience far from what I expected.

Time after time, I was disappointed by my life, and it brought me to a very low point that I’d never reached in the past. I needed a change - so a year ago, I suddenly decided to quit my job, search for a new one in San Francisco, and move away from my hometown in the PNW, and everything I knew my entire life. It felt like everything in my life was upside down, and I had no idea how to fulfill any of my expectations of myself, even though I was making these big life decisions. I felt lost (full disclosure, I still do) and empty and terrified of everything. I didn’t know how to move forward with my life, I felt stuck and everything around me felt over-stimulating and overwhelming.

So I started to try to have fewer expectations of myself. It’s a practice, and it isn’t something you can always do as default behavior, or something that happens overnight. You have to consciously let go of your positive expectations in any given situation, because we as humans are programmed to develop expectations of ourselves in situations in order to push ourselves to accomplish what we want to in life (or something - I’m not sure if that made any sense or if it’s remotely accurate, but I think it roughly translates what I’m thinking into words). But I believe that we shouldn’t need to have expectations of a situation in order to motivate ourselves. We can evolve past that, continue to be positive and hopeful in our lives by trying to see the bigger picture and not wasting time on having specific expectations of individual situations in life.

Letting go of our expectations means we spend less time being unproductive and tied to hopes and dreams that likely won’t happen, we invest less emotional energy in situations up front, and in feeling bad later on. The Stoics have a similar concept: 

“‘the art of acquiescence’ - the giving up and assenting of how things are so that they can be what they are to become.” - The Daily Stoic

Letting go means we spend more time doing things we want to be doing, because we’ve stopped worrying about what we expect out of the situation and how badly we’ll feel if things don’t go the way we hoped.

Having lowered expectations of a situation requires 3 main things: 

1. you must objectively assess that situation  2. be present in the moment as it happens  3. clearly reflect on it afterward.

This mindset does not allow you to feel guilt or sadness because things didn’t go the way you wanted them to - because the process of reflection is not tied to any set idea of how that situation would go. Instead, reflection is just that, thinking about the situation and the facts of what actually happened, how you reacted, and, possibly, what you might do differently next time.

However, having lowered expectations is extremely difficult. On some level, I think that if we didn’t have at least some expectations of life, we wouldn’t have any motivation to live it - thus having no expectations is impossible. On the other hand, if you’re anything like me and you overthink, overreact, and beat yourself up for every situation because you have the confidence of a child that was raised in a basement, lowering your expectations of yourself and those around you can help you better navigate your life, and reduce some of the extra noise your brain makes - and allow you to “Just Do It” like the wise age-old Nike ads tell you to.

Here’s a boring personal example of how lowering expectations has a impacted my own life that doesn’t matter to anyone but me: I’ve been terrified of blogging for a very long time. Despite having been passionate about writing my entire life, wanting to write and publish a book as a child (and reading constantly), studying English in college, and leaping head first into any project at work that requires me to write in any capacity, I’ve been afraid to even try to express my real thoughts. 

Here and there I’ve written nonsense in spurts, letting the words tumble out like word vomit and blast into the black hole of the internet. I never truly tried to write anything I cared about or tried to be disciplined in my practice of writing because I was too scared. Whatever I’ve been able to write in the past has been steeped in misery, insecurity and/or insanity. I was worried about what people would think of me and what I had to say, what I would think of my writing and myself, and whether anyone would want to read what I wrote. It wasn’t until I stopped expecting my writing to mean or be anything specific that I realized I actually had something to write about - something that mattered to me - and that I could finally articulate my thoughts a way that I wanted to dedicate my time to.

Notes

The New Girl, Season 5 Episode 2, “What About Fred?”. Released: January 12, 2016. 

The Daily Stoic, “Letting Go is the Next Thing”. URL: https://dailystoic.com/letting-go-is-next/. Accessed: December 11, 2018.