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hellomynameisbisexual · 4 years ago

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I’d go so far as to say that the nomination probably saved the site, in fact. For those who need a little background: despite being a small voluntary project the site was nominated for the 2014 Publication of the Year award by Stonewall, the UK’s largest LGBT charity, just nine months after its inception. This was a landmark step in Stonewall’s positive new direction on bi issues. To the best of my knowledge, this was the first time Stonewall had specifically nominated a specifically bi publication or organisation for an award. At this point my co-founder, who was taking care of the business side of things, had recently jumped ship and I was seriously considering packing the whole thing in. I won’t lie, I was astonished to read the email.

I’d worked on a publication which won the award under my editorship a few years previously. Unlike Biscuit, however, g3 magazine – at the time one of the two leading print mags for lesbian and bi women in the UK – had an estimated readership of 140,000, had been going for eight years and boasted full-time paid office staff and regular paid freelancers. Biscuit, by contrast, was being dragged along by one weary unpaid editor and a bunch of unpaid writers who understandably, for the most part, couldn’t commit to regularly submitting work.

Little Biscuit’s enormous competition for the award consisted of Buzzfeed, Attitude.co.uk, iNewspaper and Property Week. We didn’t win – that accolade went to iNewspaper – but the nomination was nevertheless, as I say, a huge catalyst to continue with the site. I launched a crowdfunder, which finished way off target. I sold one ad space, for two months. Then nothing. I attempted in vain to recruit a sales manager but nobody wanted to work on commission. Some wonderful writers came and went. There were periods of tumbleweed when I frantically had to fill the site with my own writing, thereby completely defeating the object of providing a platform for a wide range of bi voices.

The Stonewall Award nomination persuaded me to keep going with the site

The departure of the webmaster was another blow. Thankfully by this point I had a co-editor on board – the amazing Libby – so I was persuaded to stick with it. And here we are now. I don’t actually know where the next article is coming from. That’s not a good feeling. But, apart from for Biscuit, I try not to write for free anymore myself, so I understand exactly why that is. As a freelance journo trying to make a living I’ve had to be strict with myself about that. I regularly post on the “Stop Working For Free” Facebook group and often feel a pang of misplaced guilt because I ask my writers to write for free, even though I’m working on the site for free myself, and losing valuable time I could be spending on looking for paid work.

Biscuit hasn’t exactly been a stranger to controversy, in addition to its financial and staffing issues. Its original tagline – “for girls who like girls and boys” – was considered cis-centric by some, leading to accusations that the site had some kind of trans/genderqueer*-phobic agenda. Which was amusing, as at the height of this a) we’d just had two articles about non-binary issues published and b) I was actually engaged to a genderqueer partner, a fact they were clearly unaware of. Now the site is under fire from various pansexual activists who object to the term “bisexual”. To clarify – “girl and boys” was supposed to imply a spectrum and, no, we don’t think “bi” applies only to an attraction to binary folk. The site aims the main part of its content at female-spectrum readers attracted to more than one gender because this group does have specific needs. But there is something here for EVERYONE bisexual. Anyway, it’s a shame all of this gossip was relayed secondhand, and the people in question didn’t think to confront me about it (which at least the pan activists have bothered to do). We damage our community immeasurably with these kinds of Chinese whispers.

Biscuit ed Libby, being amazing

Whilst trying to keep the site afloat, I’ve also been building on the work I started right back when I edited g3, and trying to improve bi visibility in other media outlets. I’ve recently had articles published by Cosmopolitan, SheWired, The F-Word, GayStar News and Women Make Waves and I’m constantly emailing other sites which I’ve not yet written for with bi pitches. Unfortunately, although I am over the moon to be writing for mainstream outlets such as Cosmo about bi issues, it’s been an uphill struggle trying to persuade some editors out there that they have more readers to whom bi-interest stories apply than they might think. It’s an incredibly exhausting and frustrating process.

Libby and I are doing our best with Biscuit. I can’t guarantee that I would be doing anything at all with it if Libby hadn’t arrived on the scene, so once again I would like to mention how fabulous she is. But we desperately need more writers. We need some help with site design and tech issues. We need a hand with the business and sales side of things. We can’t do it without you. And if you know any rich bisexual heiresses who read Biscuit, please do send them our way. 😉

Grant Denkinson’s story

denkinsonpanel

Grant speaks on a panel chaired by Biscuit’s Lottie at a Bi Visibility Day event

So first of all, explain a little about the activism you’re involved/have been involved in.  

“I’ve been involved with bisexual community organising for a bit over 20 years. Some has been within community: writing for and editing our national newsletter, organising events for bisexuals and helping others with their events by running workshop sessions or offering services such as 1st aid. I’ve spoken to the media about bisexuality and organised bi contingents at LGBT Pride events (sometimes just me in a bi T-shirt!). I’ve helped organise and participated in bi activist weekends and trainings. I’ve help train professionals about bisexuality. I’ve also piped up about bisexuality a lot when organising within wider LGBT and gender and sexuality and relationship diversity umbrellas. I’ve been a supportive bi person on-line and in person for other bi folks. I’ve been out and visibly bi for some time. I’ve helped fund bi activists to meet, publish and travel. I’ve funded advertising for bi events. I’ve set up companies and charities for or including bi people. I’ve personally supported other bi activists.”

 What made you get involved?

“ In some ways I was looking for a way to be outside the norm and to make a difference and coming out as bi gave me something to push against. I’ve been less down on myself when feeling attacked. I’ve also found the bi community very welcoming and where I can be myself and so wanted to organise with friends and to give others a similar experience. There weren’t too many others already doing everything better than I could.”

How do you feel about the state of bi activism worldwide (esp UK and USA) at the moment?

“There have been great changes for same-sex attracted people legally and socially and these have happened quickly. Bi people have been involved with making that happen and benefit from it. We can also be hidden by gay advances or actively erased. We still have bi people not knowing many or any other local bi people, not seeing other bisexuals in the mainstream or LGT worlds and not knowing or being able to access community things with other bis. We are little represented in books or the media and people don’t know about the books and zines and magazines already available. The internet has made it easy to find like-minded people but also limited privacy and I think is really fragmented and siloed. It is hard to find bisexuals who aren’t women actors, harmful or fucked up men or women in pornography designed for straight men. We have persistent and high quality bi events but they are sparse and small.”

What’s causing you to feel disillusioned?

“I’m fed up of bi things just not happening if I don’t do them. Not everything should be in my style and voice and I shouldn’t be doing it all. I and other activists campaign for bi people to be more OK and don’t take care of ourselves enough while doing so. People are so convinced we don’t exist they don’t bother with a simple search that would find us. We have little resources while having some of the worst outcomes of any group. I don’t want to spend my entire life being the one person who reminds people about bisexuals, including our so-called allies. I’m not impressed with the problem resolution skills in our communities and while we talk about being welcoming I’m not sure we’re very effective at it. I’m fed up with mouthing the very basics and never getting into depth about bi lives and being one who supports but who is not supported. I’m all for lowering barriers but at a certain point if people don’t actively want to do bi community volunteering it won’t happen. Some people are great critics but build little.”

What do you want to say to other activists about this?

“Why are we doing this personally? I’m not sure we know. How long will we hope rather than do? Honestly, are there so few who care? Alternatively should we stop the trying to do bi stuff and either do some self-analysis, be happy to accept being what we are now as a community, chill out and just let stuff happen or give up and go and do something else instead.”

Patrick Richards-Fink’s story

085d4de So first of all, explain a little about the activism you’re involved/have been involved in.

“Mostly internet – I am a Label Warrior, a theorist and educator. Here’s how I described it on my blog: “One of the reasons that I am a bisexual activist rather than a more general queer activist is because I see every day people just like me being told they don’t belong. It doesn’t mean I don’t work on the basic issues that we all struggle against — homophobia, heterosexism, classism, out-of-control oligarchy, racism, misogyny, this list in in no particular order and is by no means comprehensive. But I have found that I can be most effective if I focus, work towards understanding the deep issues that drive the problems that affect people who identify the same way that I have ever since I started to understand who I am. I find that I’m not a community organizer type of activist or a storm the capitol with a petition in one hand and a bullhorn in the other activist — I’m much better at poring over studies and writing long wall-o’-text articles and occasionally presenting what I’ve gleaned to groups of students until my voice is so hoarse that I can barely do more than croak.” So internet, and when I was still in school, a lot of on-campus stuff. Now I’m moving into a new phase where my activism is more subtle – I’m working as a therapist, and so my social justice lens informs my treatment, especially of bi and trans people.”

What made you get involved?

“I can’t not be.”

How do you feel about the state of bi activism worldwide (esp UK and USA) at the moment?

“I feel like we made a couple strides, and every time that happens the attacks renewed. I hionestly think the constant attempts to divide the bisexual community into ‘good pansexuals’ and ‘bad bisexuals’ and ‘holy no-labels’ is the thing that’s most likely to screw us.”

What’s causing you to feel disillusioned?  

“It is literally everywhere I turn – colleges redefining bisexuality on their LGBT Center pages, news articles quoting how ‘Bi=2 and pan=all therefore pan=better’, everybloodywhere I turn I see it every day. The word bi is being taken out of the names of organisations now, by the next group of up-and-comers who haven’t bothered to learn their history and understand that if you erase our past, you take away our present. Celebrities come out as No Label, wtf is that. Don’t they make kids read 1984 anymore? It’s gotten to the point now that even seeing the word pansexual in print triggers me. I’m reaching the point now that if someone really wants to be offended when all I am trying to do is welcome them on board, then I don’t have time for it.”

What do you want to say to other activists about this?

“Stay strong, and don’t give them a goddamned inch. I honestly think that the bi organizations – even, truth be told, the one I am with – are enabling this level of bullshit by attempting to be conciliatory, saying things that end up reinforcing the idea that bi and pan are separate communities. We try to be too careful not to offend anyone. Like the thing about Freddie Mercury. Gay people say ‘He was gay.’ Bi people say ‘Um, begging your pardon, good sirs and madams and gentlefolk of other genders, but Freddie was bi.’ And they respond ‘DON’T GIVE HIM A LABEL HE DIDN’T CLAIM WAAHHH WAAHHH!’ And yet… Freddie Mercury never used the label ‘gay’, but it’s OK when they do it. And he WAS bisexual by any measure you want to use. But we back down. And 2.5% of the bisexual population decides pansexual is a better word, and instead of educating them, we add ‘pan’ to our organisation names and descriptions. Now, this is clearly a dissenting view – I will always be part of a united front where my organization is concerned. But everyone knows how I feel, and I think it’s totally valid to be loyal and in dissent at the same time. Not exactly a typically American viewpoint, but everyone says I’d be a lot more at home in Britain than I am here anyway.”

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noobsomeexagerjunk · 5 years ago

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Left Undone

Ted didn’t want to babysit Bill’s daughter. He didn’t like Bill, and Bill didn’t like him. Why did he have to be the only one in the office who was free for the weekend? Alice didn’t exactly want to be babysat either. She’s too old for that!

Little did Ted and Alice know how much fun they were going to have.

(AU wherein Alice has not dated Deb yet, Bill hasn’t divorced yet either; MASSIVE SPOILERS for BoJack Horseman Season 3 and Moulin Rouge! are discussed)

Friday Prologue | Saturday Chapter | Sunday Chapter | Monday Epilogue

Alice woke up fairly well-rested Saturday morning, forgetting for a second that she wasn’t in her own house.

Ted Spankoffski’s house had 3 bedrooms. One was a master bedroom where Ted slept and also did any other non-CCRP related work. Another was a room where Ted’s nerdy brother stayed for the Summer; ever since Ted got himself a house, his younger brother would stay over at his place during holidays and academic breaks.

Then there was the spare guest bedroom Alice was in where Ted had to set up for her the previous evening. It was very plain.

She went downstairs, explored a little, then found no one. She went back up, knocking on Ted’s bedroom door. No response.

Alice then decided to wash up instead, to feel fresh in the morning. She did all the work in the downstairs bathroom (Ted specifically told her to use that particular bathroom), leaving it as neat as it was before she came to the house.

She tried to knock on the door again, the increased strength of her rapping revealing to her that the room had not been locked, or closed properly for that matter.

She peeked in to find Ted who was still asleep, clutching a laptop like a stuffed toy. His shirt, boxers, and socks tied together with his slumped figure, which also seemed intertwined with the bedsheets. There were used tissues all over the bed, some on the floor making a trail to a semi-used paper towel roll. There were an empty bowl and two empty beer bottles on the bedside table. It reeked of Corona and clearly imported Honey Butter Chips.

Alice stepped in to try to wake Ted up, but the floor creaking below her was enough to make him jolt awake.

“Who the fu-“ Ted calmed down from the shock of waking up so suddenly, “A-Alice?! Shit, I forgot you’re here,”

“I-Is there anything I can eat?”

Ted rose from his position, sitting upward on his bed, “...are you allergic to eggs? Milk?”

“No, I’m not allergic to either.”

“Good,” Ted yawned, getting up and stretching, “because my fridge is fucking empty.”

“I noticed.”

That was hyperbole...sort of. The only breakfast that could be made from Ted’s pantry was egg toast and cereal. There was enough for both of them to finish all of said egg toast and cereal.

“What were you watching last night?” Alice asked Ted, playing with her fruit loops a little.

“Hm?” He swallowed the last bite of his toast with instant coffee.

“You were crying for about thirty minutes; I couldn't sleep-”

“I-It was a sad episode, alright?!” Ted was slightly embarrassed, hesitating to take another sip of coffee, “That fucking baby seahorse will never know...”

Alice raised a brow, unaware of the reference. She ate some more cereal.

“Don’t give me that look, Alice!” That was Bill’s glare, alright, “BoJack Horseman is a very good show!”

“And you binged the whole thing last night?”

“It’s the new season. I’ve got two episodes left before I finish.” Ted then proceeded to chug down what was left of his coffee.

“My laptop died during my binge but it was late and I was just,” He blew a raspberry, “...I needed to sleep.”

“I’ve done that before, not gonna lie,” Alice place down the spoon, done with her breakfast, “Though, the show I watched was kinda...yeah, it was kinda shitty,”

“Let me guess: you’ve watched it because someone hot’s in it,”

Alice blushed, “I-It’s not just that!”

“Hey hey hey,” Ted chuckled, “I’m guilty of that, I ain’t judging.”

Alice hmphed, “Should I watch that—what’s that show?”

“BoJack Horseman?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm,” Ted then began cleaning up by taking Alice’s utensils, stacking them with his, “it starts weak but gets so much better, like real fucking better. Dunno if you’re old enough to watch it though,”

“I’ve seen some pretty adult stuff! Mom makes me watch Tarantino movies with her, at least whenever Dad's not around sometimes,"

Ted nodded at Alice’s mother’s taste in film, “Aight, but that show just...it just hits somewhere really hard when you’re in your early thirties full of regret and with no discernible life direction but, hey! If you can take it, I’d be impressed.”

Alice blinked, “What? Is it like, psychological horror? The kind rooted in some comedically timed socio-political commentary?”

“Well, arguably.” Ted then got up to bring the dishes in his hands into the kitchen.

“...where can I find it?” She asked with mild interest.

“Netflix,” The sound of dishes landing in a sink was heard from Alice’s seat, “It’s a cartoon too, and like, about a bunch of animals, if those kinds of things float your boat.”

Alice never made it past Episode 1 when she tried to watch it herself, convinced Ted’s taste was shit. Personally, she will regret that.

The rest of that morning left Alice and Ted to their own individual devices. Alice typed away some interesting plots and ideas on her phone. Ted went to finish the last episodes of that sad horse show.

An hour before the time Alice would usually eat lunch, she had been cycling around various plotlines for a potential...well, something. Alice knew she just had to write something.

She was in the living area of the house when she heard Ted sloppily walk down the stairs. His eyes were teary.

"Are you alright, Mr. Spankoffski?" She looked at him with concern.

Ted shakily neared her, hesitating to sit on the couch next to her. He instead placed a languid hand on one of the couch's armrests.

"Please don't die on me, Alice, oh my God..."

He broke into sobs. Alice could only stare at this behavior in confusion.

"Did something bad happen in the show, or...?"

"Fuck, it got worse!" He sniffled, "A-And not, like, n-not in a bad writing context--that show's writing is the shit, Alice! But fuck! F-Fuck!"

Sarah Lynn was not supposed to die, but she did die and the fact left Ted devastated. A part of him knew it was gonna happen as he saw the old man, er, horse, and the poor girl in the motel, missing the Oscars. (Then again, that show had a penchant for hollowing, tragic endings per episode.)

Even in entertainment, in his favorite shows to watch, Ted Spankoffski knew better than to hope. It was more realistic for him.

"You can sit down," Alice moved aside to give Ted space to sit.

Ted cried as he sat next to her, "God, I'm sorry y-you had to see me like this,"

"I've...I-I've had worse breakdowns over a show. I-It's all good."

TV and Movie homophobia still haunted the teenage girl.

It's things like that, whether extravagant or subtle in delivery, that prompted her to write and clarify in any way that she could if only to fight. Alice Woodward was the kind of girl who refused to despair.

"Yeah, A-Alice?"

"Mhm," She nodded, quickly writing "character gets sucked into a tv show???" in her phone's Notes app.

"What if we watched something less depressing instead? You can watch it with me, Alice!" Ted breathed, "You're not bored, are you?"

She added "literally? figuratively? ehhh let the watchers decide??? kshfukdhivg" then kept her phone.

"No! N-No, I know how to keep myself, um, b-busy," Alice then shifted herself into a more comfortable position, "What movies do you have?"

Ted paused before answering, realizing he was hungry.

“You pick,” He said, getting up, “You want pizza with that?”

Alice nodded eagerly, watching Ted head for his phone.

“Wait, what am I supposed to pick?”

“There’s a bunch of CD cases in the drawer under the center table—it’s right in front of you!” Ted's voice decrescendoed as he headed upstairs.

“Drawer?” Alice wondered to herself, bending down to inspect the described center table. There was in fact a drawer.

She pulled it open to find bunches of CD cases, charging wires, and what clearly seemed to be unusable gadgets or “e-junk” as her father would, in a terribly corny way, put it.

Alice noticed a notable amount of movie musicals in one bundle of CD cases. The one that got her attention was Moulin Rouge!, unfamiliar with the title and very taken by the red-haired beauty printed on the cover. There was Jesus Christ Superstar, West Side Story, Rocky Horror Picture Show, and a bunch of Disney Princess movies. Upon further inspection of the non-musical movies, Ted had a diverse taste in film, though it was primarily pretty basic in Alice's opinion, minus a few exceptions.

She closed the drawer, further inspecting the Moulin Rouge CD cover by reading the synopsis on the back. An aspiring writer falls in love with a courtesan but other things get in the way? Alice could not blame the writer, in fact, she was quick to identify with him, even if she had not seen the movie yet.

“Alice?” Ted called from upstairs, “Are you allergic to anything I should know?”

“No,” She called back, playing with the CD cover.

“Good! I’m getting us a Bacon Surprise,”

“Alright,” Apparently Ted chose to order from that Witchwood Ovens Shop downtown.

“What movie do you wanna watch?” Ted asked as he went back down. Alice showed him the CD cover.

“Moulin Rouge?” He mispronounced, “I actually have that in there?”

Alice handed the cover to Ted as he approached her, “I don’t think I’ve seen this one,”

“No shit, Alice. This movie’s got prostitution; if I know your Dad enough,” He stared at the cover, trying to remember when he got it, "he would make sure you'd never see it. God, I remember seeing this in the theater, like, when I was about your—h-how old are you again?"

"Fifteen, but I'll be sixteen later this year,"

"Eh, close enough," Ted then placed the CD cover down, ready to set up the television set in the living room.

"Nicole Kidman, man..." Ted dusted the CD player, plugging the TV into it, "She was the fucking best in that thing."

"Do you even know what happens in it?" Alice asked as she watched Ted at work, "Or were you just hoping Nicole Kidman would step on you?"

"Don't you fucking shame me, Alice!" Ted gasped back as he blushed, "If you had any taste in women, you'd want the same Goddamn thing."

Ted guessed correctly, keeping the girl from returning his snark.

It was around the Elephant Love Medley when the pizza arrived. Ted was kind enough to pause for Alice as he went to get the pizza. Alice was still recovering from the exhilaration of the past few songs, overwhelmed with the crowd-like effect of the cheesy-Jukebox mashups that introduced Christian to that infamous dancehall, the gratuitous use of slow-mo effects, and the ridiculous use of that Can-Can. It was "Spectacular Spectacular" indeed!

Alice almost choked on her pizza during the Like A Virgin scene. It was also very clear to her, as they watched, that Ted must've forgotten a lot of what had happened in the film given some of his reactions. Ted cursed The Duke repeatedly, particularly at that scene when he found out about the true nature of Christian's play.

Ted believed that he should've seen Satine dying coming. He saw this movie before. The movie literally said so right at the start!

Why, as he watched, did he want that happy ending when the opposite was inevitably going to happen?!

Something about Satine charmed Ted, in a particularly nightmarish way. The idea of further thinking about it was repressed repeatedly, refusing to confront the roots of it all. Surely it was just him being a horny bastard, right? Right?

This totally had nothing to do with the fact that Satine had vibrant red hair, cerulean eyes, polished milky skin, and a beautiful figure.

This totally had nothing to do with how familiar this fictional character seemed to be, resembling someone Ted remembered with intense, bittersweet longing.

This totally had nothing to do with the sight of Satine breathing her last breath on a bed of roses reminding Ted of a memory that he swore hadn't happened yet.

Or it did happen?

Why debate when it happened when it shouldn't have happened at all? It wasn't supposed to happen, whatever that thing was that Ted didn't need to remember at the moment. And yet...

She didn't make a sound. Heartbreak was never so loud.

Alice's sniffling brought Ted back to reality. Ted put a hand on her shoulder.

"God, I-I look so stupid," Alice chuckled out from her tears, rubbing her teary eyes, "they literally say it in the beginning, ugh!"

Ted coddled her closer to him so he could hug her but Alice recoiled back.

"T-Thanks, but we both smell like pizza," Ted nodded back in response.

As he cleaned up the living area, he asked Alice, "How was the movie?"

"It was pretty cheesy," She pulled out her phone again, inspired to write, "but kinda fun? Like, you don't get fun movies with this much energy, at least, when I try to compare, well. You know what I mean."

"Yeah," Ted replied absent-mindedly, "It certainly brings back memories of, well, certain times."

"I think it kinda comes off as an epic-like piece,"

"No need to wax academic, Alice,"

"You asked for it!"

"I asked about how it was, not for an essay about its themes and shit!" Ted straightened himself up with a chuckle, "It's just a movie, after all."

"It hits different though," She spat back, focused now on her phone.

Witchwood Oven Shop pizzas were notably heavier on the stomach compared to their competitors. Any leftover pizza the two had for lunch that day, Ted proceeded to reheat for dinner. He scavenged his refrigerator for any packs of instant lemonade, which were thankfully there, and prepared two glasses for the two of them.

It was a shitty excuse for dinner, but Alice didn't seem to mind. She was very concentrated on her phone.

"What'cha writing about?"

Alice tilted her phone as to hide it, "It's not really much yet. It's all a bunch of prompts so far."

"You can pitch me stuff," He swallowed a bite, "Which ones really get to you?"

"Well," She hesitated.

"Well?"

"I-I've got a traveling adventure in a fancy, cultured but mysterious new town..."

"Anything else?"

"Still deciding whether I should make it a horror or a comedy. Besides that, it's all gonna rest on a foundation of romance between our main character, and, well..."

"Who?"

"I don't know! It's all I got so far!"

"Hey, it's not bad," Ted sipped his lemonade, "You know, I bet with enough time, it can become something really fucking great. I'd be invested if this was a movie or a staged production of sorts, I don't know,"

"Y-You think it's good, Mr. Spankoffski?"

"Oh hell yeah," He placed the glass down, "Not to be cheesy, but romance really gets me."

"Yeah, same."

"Have you considered making it some sort of horror-comedy romance? I would love it if you could pull it off."

#eternal reverie #left undone #kim whalen would make such a great satine #starkid #team starkid #starkid fanfic #starkid au #nightmare time spoilers #ted spankoffski #alice woodward

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calumance · 5 years ago

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LA Devotee - Part XV

Warnings: a hint of phone sex?, cussing, drinking

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: Emily has a sleepover with Mikayla to keep herself occupied while Calum is on tour.

A/N: I’M SORRY I’M LATE, but since I’m still wake, IT’S STILL SATURDAY. I hope you all enjoy, this is one of my favorite chapters. 🥰🥰💖💖(Feedback and requests are always welcomed!!! Want to be tagged? Let me know!)

Masterlist

Trevor dropped Mikayla off at work on Friday morning, an overnight bag in tow. Just as quickly as she walked into the office I walked her out so she could drop her bag into my car. I looked at my keys as we walked together and I thought back to when I had asked Calum if Mikayla could stay the night. When I had asked him, he made it a point to act like I had asked him the most incredibly silly question he had ever heard. “I know how lonely that house can get, I don’t blame you for wanting her to come over,” were his exact words.

After work, Mikayla followed me out to the parking garage, both pairs of heels clacking on the ground and echoing through the garage. I looked up as I unlocked Calum’s car, I wasn’t sure why, but there was something inside me that made me want to drive his car, maybe it was because it smelled like him. “Is it weird being in his house alone?” Mikayla asked me after we had been silent as I pulled out of the parking garage, and turned onto the main road.

I shrugged and concentrated on the road in front of me. “Kind of,” My fingers wrapped around the steering wheel as I thought about how much I actually miss him. “It’s weird not waking up next to him, or falling asleep next to him. I guess I got too used to it.” I ran my left hand through my hair as I leaned my elbow against the window. “Plus, Duke is there, so I’m not completely alone.” Duke was good at keeping me company, he always curled up in my lap, or slept in the bend of my knees. However, as much as I loved Duke’s cuddles, they would never compare to the feeling as Calum’s arms wrapped around my waist and his chest pressed to my back.

Mikayla smiled, “I’ve been trying to convince Trevor of getting a dog since we moved six months ago, but he won’t go for it. I’m excited to meet Duke. He’s so cute from the pictures you’ve shown me.” I smiled and turned the radio up a little louder as I drove towards the house. Mikayla and I danced to the radio, our favorite song playing as I drove up the hill. We hadn’t had a girls night since shortly after I moved here.

My first day in the office she was the first one to say anything to me. “I mean, I sit across from you, so I might as well introduce myself. My name is Mikayla, and you must be Emily. They’ve been talking about you coming here for a while now.” That day she had worn a floral top that was mostly black, and had silky sleeves. She was wearing black leggings, and a pair of tiger print heels. I had been so jealous of her fashion sense, but the jealousy was short lived when she took me shopping and rebuilt my entire wardrobe. Her long brown hair had a slight curl at the end, and her blue eyes were accented by some mascara, her thin lips tinted by her pale pink lipstick. I reached my hand towards her with a smile and told her it was nice to meet her. We hung out for the first time that weekend, and I guess it’s history after that.

I shifted the car into park as I pulled into the driveway. Mikayla reached behind her and grabbed her overnight bag out of the backseat. We walked into the house, Duke greeting us with a wagging tail. Mikayla squealed in joy and picked him up as I set Calum’s car keys in the bowl by the door. Duke slobbered all over Mikayla’s face as I made my way through the kitchen and to the back door to slide it open, allowing Duke to go in and out as he pleased. Mikayla set him back on the ground and he ran outside. “What sounds good for dinner?” I asked as I turned to the fridge, pulling out two drinks.

Mikayla hummed as she took one of the drinks, “Maybe we should order some Chinese food, like old times.” She smiled and twisted her hand around the cap to open the drink. “We can order Chinese food and get all tipsy and just have a good night.” The first night we ever had an adult sleepover was at her house, a couple weeks after we met. Trevor had gone on a business trip and Mikayla wanted someone to keep her company. She invited me over, and we ordered a large amount of Chinese food, and drank a large amount of wine. The main thing I remember from that day was Trevor waking me up on the couch laughing because it took him an hour to wake me up. A smiled stretched across my face, I liked the idea of repeating that night, maybe not exactly, but something close to it. I tilted my bottle forward and clinked with hers before we both washed back our drinks.

After Mikayla hung up the phone, placing the food order, I went through Calum’s bedroom for a speaker. He has to have one somewhere, right? As if he read my mind, my phone started ringing, his picture showing up causing me to smile from ear to ear. “Hey, love.” I sat on the end of the bed and listened for his voice.

“Hey, sunshine. How’s your sleepover going?” There were a couple voices behind him, sounding like he was hanging out with the guys.

I ran my hand through my hair and looked around the bedroom. “Funny you ask that. I’m trying to find a Bluetooth speaker so we can listen to music. I was looking in the bedroom, but I can’t find one.”

“There should be one in my music room. Check on the desk. What are you and Mikayla going to do tonight?” Michael started to yell behind Calum and Calum sighed, “Michael says hi.”

As I exited the bedroom, I let out a chuckle. “Tell him I say hi back.” I crossed the threshold into Calum’s music room and flicked on the light switch. “We ordered some Chinese food. Back when we first became friends, we had this night where we ordered some Chinese food and got all wine drunk, so we’re thinking about having a night like that.” I eyed the desk and found the Bose speaker sitting on his desk. “Oh, I found a Bose speaker, is it okay if I use it for tonight? I’ll put it back tomorrow.”

Calum chuckled, “Yeah, you can use it, sunshine. I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but that’s your house too. That’s what happens when you move in with someone.”

I grabbed the speaker off the desk and used my elbow to switch off the light as I made my way back down the hallway. “I know, but it’s still your stuff.” I close my eyes thinking about how my ex would react when I would move his things. Nathan would always get mad for moving things without asking, or using something that he ‘worked so hard for,’ even though we had a shared bank account. Sure, he worked hard for it, but so did I. As I set the speaker on the counter, Mikayla came out of the bathroom, wearing sweatpants, an oversized t-shirt, and her hair bundled on the top of her head in a messy bun. Our normal girl’s night outfit.

“Oh, tell Calum I say hi!” Mikayla bounced up and down, clapping her hands.

Calum sighed, “My stuff is your stuff too, Emily, that’s what happens when you’re in a relationship, and when you move into someone’s home.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” After nodding to Mikayla, I dropped my head and turned away from her. “That’s not how my last relationship was, thank you, Calum.” I turned and looked at Mikayla behind me who was begging for me to tell him hell for her. “Mikayla says hi.” She pulled her elbow back in satisfaction and walked into the living room.

“Tell her hi back.” He chuckled, but then collected himself to appropriately display his seriousness through the phone, “I’m sorry that your last relationship was so terrible, but, that’s not how our relationship is going to be, okay?” He was quiet. My heart raced as I thought about telling him how much I loved him, but the doorbell interrupted that thought. “I’m going to let you go, sunshine. Have a fun sleepover, call me in the morning.”

My heart skipped a beat at his tone. “Did I do something wrong?” I ran my hand across the back of my neck as I walked down the hallway towards the bedroom.

“No, sunshine, I just wish I was there. You have fun with Mikayla, okay?” Calum’s voice was soft, and suddenly, I felt like crying. “Call me in the morning, love.”

“Yeah, I’ll call you in the morning. Have a good night, Cal.” It was quiet for a few seconds before he said his goodbye and hung up. I looked at my phone for another second before sliding it into my pocket and going into the bedroom to put on an outfit that matched Mikayla’s: a pair of sweatpants and one of Calum’s t-shirts that was even big on him.

We sat on the couch, the Chinese food sprawled across the entirety of the coffee table. Music playing softly in the background, for now. We washed back our third drink as another episode of The Office played on the TV. As soon as we finished eating, and the alcohol began to course through our veins, we turned the speaker as loud as we could. Dancing in the living room, using our bottles as fake microphones. My head started spinning from the alcohol and I sat on the couch, placing my hand on my forehead. My breath was labored from the dancing, proving just how unfit I actually am. Mikayla threw herself on the couch next to me with a laugh. I sighed and shook my head. “I don’t think Calum loves me back.” The alcohol had completely dissolved my filter now.

Mikayla looked at me, her chest heaving from the dancing as well. “What makes you think he doesn’t love you back?” Her eyebrows were pulled together.

My head was spinning. I wasn’t even sure why I thought that, there was really no reason to think that. I let out a laugh and Mikayla looked at me more confused than before. “I don’t actually know. It’s like there’s a tiny voice inside my head trying to convince me that he doesn’t love me, let alone like me. As hard as I try to shut the voice out, it won’t shut up.”

Mikayla readjusted her head and she took a deep breath. “It’s called trauma. That voice, I mean. Your last relationship was shitty, we all know that, but you gotta stop letting it come back and take control over everything you do.” She closed her eyes but then reopened them and turned her head towards me. “I know you told me how badly you want to tell him in person, but maybe you should tell him anyway?”

I couldn’t even bring myself to look at her, so just shook my head. “No, I want to wait until we see each other in person. Look, I don’t want to talk about this right now, I don’t know why I brought it up, can we keep dancing and drinking? I want to stop over thinking everything.” Mikayla cracked open another drink for me and turned the music back on. After the tenth drink, I don’t quite remember what else happened.

When I woke up, my head was absolutely pounding, but I felt a cold sensation on my cheek. My eyes opened and I was on the floor of the living room, my cheek pressed firmly against the hard wood floor. After blinking a few times, I pushed myself up so my back was against the couch and Mikayla snored slightly when I accidently nudged her arm which was hanging over the edge of the couch. My hands connected with my face as I fought the headache surging through my brain. My phone sat on the table and I reached forward, it was noon and Calum had called me three times, left me a voice message, and sent me a text. I checked the text message first. “I thought you’d wake up before me, I guess not. We have an interview at 2 and a performance after that, should be available for a Face Time date tonight, though. Miss you. Xx Cal.” Based off the time, he was probably performing right now. Next, I listened to the voicemail. “Hey, sugar. Hope you had a fun night, guess it must’ve been fun if you still haven’t called me. We’re about to step into the interview. Text me when you wake up.” My eyes shut tightly, he didn’t sound super thrilled that I hadn’t called him yet.

I mumbled to myself for being so stupid as I opened my messaging app and typed out my message. “Fuck, Calum. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me last night, I don’t even remember passing out, I hope you’re not mad at me. Call me when your performance is over, good luck, my love!” I dropped my phone to my side and ran my hands down my face. All I could think of doing was jumping into the pool and hoping it would dissolve my hangover. I pushed myself off the ground, grabbing my phone at the same time. When I opened the door, Duke ran off to the grass patch. My phone bounced as I tossed it onto a chair near the pool. I discarded my shirt and sweatpants and jumped into the pool. The cool sensation of water washed over my body, making the headache subside slightly.

I floated at the top of the water for a while until the muffled sound of my phone ringing made its way to my ears. My arms frantically flailed through the water and to the edge so I could push myself out of the pool. I knew it was Calum before I saw him on the screen. The only thing that surprised me was that it wasn’t an audio call, it was a Face Time call. As I answered, I ran the t-shirt I was wearing down my face. Calum came into view, he was wearing sunglasses and, from what I could tell, he was in a car. His face lit up when he saw me. “Good afternoon, sunshine. Did you have fun last night?” He ran a ring clad finger over his lips, suppressing a laugh.

My hand ran backwards through my hair smoothing it down more than it was from the water. “I don’t even remember if I had a good time. I feel like such an idiot, I’m so sorry I didn’t call you this morning. Do you hate me?” I laughed, even though the question was completely serious.

He shook his head, then pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head. “I could never hate you. I’m glad you had fun, my love. I, too, swim to get rid of a hangover, it’s actually the best cure. You know, for being completely hungover, you look absolutely gorgeous.” He looked at the camera matter-of-factly.

My cheeks flushed a soft pink and I laughed, covering my face. “Thanks. I slept on the floor last night, in the living room. Like, I woke up on the floor., my face was smooshed against the ground. Mikayla is still passed out on the couch. I don’t even know what happened.” I rubbed my eyes and laughed looking at Calum. I just wanted to reach through the phone and touch him. I missed the feeling of his skin against mine, whether it was because his chest was pressed against mine, or if because my fingertips were gently grazing across his cheek.

He reached up and pushed his sunglasses down, back to his nose. “Can’t even tell you how many mornings I’ve had like that. Are we still on for a Face Time date tonight?” I nodded and sat on the edge of the pool with my feet dangling in the water. “Great. I’ll call you at, like, nine my time.” I counted on my fingers to figure out what time that would be here, then nodded. Just then, the car stopped, a door opened and there was screaming. “I have to go, sunshine.” He kissed his finger, then pressed that finger to the camera, and then hung up. I tossed my phone back on the chair, and then tossed myself back into the pool.

Mikayla finally woke up around two, and showered before Trevor came and picked her up around three. He wasn’t surprised in the least that she was incredibly hungover. Honestly, I don’t think anyone was, except for me. Once Mikayla left I texted Calum, “How should I dress for our Face Time date?” As I waited for Calum to text me back, I downed an entire glass of water. My phone dinged and I read his message, breathing heavily from downing the entire glass of water. “However you’d like, sunshine. I probably won’t be wearing anything, if we’re being honest.” I choked on the air and sat my phone down, holding my hand to my chest. “Oh Jesus, Calum, are you trying to kill me?” I said to myself after gasping for air.

I finished microwaving some of the Chinese food we had left over and plopped myself on the couch, wearing a pair of boy shorts and a tank top. My phone started to ring and my heart skipped a beat. My fingers slowly wrapped around my phone wondering if he actually wasn’t wearing anything. I set my food on the coffee table and answered the call. When he came into view. I could only see from his chest up, but he definitely wasn’t wearing a shirt. I licked my lips at the thought of him actually being nude, but smiled and greeted him. “Hey, handsome.”

He blushed slightly and smiled hard enough that the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes appeared. “Hello, my love. What are you up to?” He leaned back, the lights of the television lighting up his face. His phone must’ve been propped against something, because I could see his entire torso as he leaned back.

“Just microwaved some left over Chinese food, watching The Office, because that’s literally all I ever do, if you didn’t know that. What are you watching?” I propped my phone up on the coffee table and sat back with my container in my hand.

“I don’t even know, to be honest. It was on when I turned on the TV. Mostly turned it on for background noise.” He looked at the phone with a coy smirk. “I wasn’t lying about what I said earlier.” He arms moved back and forth as if he was rubbing his hands along his legs.

I stopped chewing, and looked at the phone, raising an eyebrow. “What are you trying to get at, Hood?”

“You,” He said while laughing. “I’m trying to get at you, Williams.” He mocked me by using my last name, and suddenly my heart started to race.

My legs dropped off the couch and I bent over to pick up my phone. I suddenly felt self-conscious, something that I rarely felt in front of Calum. “I’ve never done anything like that – this. What should I do?”

He picked up his phone as well and ran his hand through his hair. “Find a place that you’re comfortable. Do you feel more comfortable in the living room or in the bedroom?” I bit my bottom lip and looked around the completely empty house. No matter the fact that it was empty, I most definitely felt more comfortable in the bedroom. Without responding, I pushed myself off the couch and walked down the hallway. After I shut the door, I sat on the bed, my back pressed against the headboard. There must’ve been a look on my face, because Calum sighed, but in a forgiving way, “Sunshine, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“No, no, I do. I’ve just never done anything like this. I might just need a little help.” I ran my hand through my hair and bit my bottom lip, feeling my cheeks flush red.

“I can help you, if you want that is.” His pupils dilated, and I nodded, feeling my stomach flutter. He started off slow, his voice was soft, never once making me feel uncomfortable. As the phone call continued on, everything picked up pace. I reveled in his hushed voice, and his face when his eyes closed and his head leaned back and his Adam’s Apple bounced as he swallowed a groan. He was everything I’ve ever wanted; this was everything I’ve ever wanted.

We were silent for a minute until Calum smiled and cleared his throat. “I thought about you all day today.”

I sat up and grabbed his sweatshirt and pulled it over my head. “Did you?” I smirked and grabbed my phone as I headed out the bedroom door, back into the living room. “What did you think about?”

He hummed and laid his head back on the white pillows I was becoming accustomed to. “How beautiful you are, how much I wish I was there, how much I miss you.” His eyes started to close, the exhaustion starting to take over.

I plopped myself onto the couch and smiled at him. “I miss you too, so much. I wish you were here, I think that would’ve been better if you were here.” I raised an eyebrow and he chuckled, his eyes still closed. “Get some sleep, my love. I’ll leave the call going for a little while. I’ll hang up in an hour or so.” He nodded and placed the phone on the empty side of his bed and pulled the comforter up to his chin. Without another word, he was fast asleep.

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

Tag list: @notinthesameguey @viiirg0 @thinkofmehlgh @another-lonely-heart @limer-encia @itsmytimetoodream

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finalfrontierpioneer · 5 years ago

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2019 Fic Recs

To celebrate the end of 2019 (and also to procrastinate on my own fics!), I figured I’d round up 19 of my favorite fics of the year! Now, to be clear, these were all written (at least partly) during 2019, and they’re all complete. But that’s like all they have in common. They’re from random fandoms and some are def explicit and they’re in no particular order, but mostly it’s Riverdale lmao. Bc i’m trash and i ain’t ashamed.

Starting out with the Riverdale here babyyy:

Things unrequited by Bearfacedcheek

New Veronica, new type?

Set after S01E01 Veronica decides that Jughead Jones is the perfect antidote to all the bad romantic and moral choices she always seems to make. But making Jughead hers doesn't prove as straight forward a task as she expects

No peace nor rest by Bearfacedcheek

They're not stupid. They know there's no peace in revenge. But the sight of Betty and Archie together makes them stupid and whisky makes them weak, so they take the only revenge they can.

Set post 2x08 Betty and Archie enter a relationship, leaving Jughead and Veronica heartbroken and a night of drunken revenge sex morphs into something far more complicated.

have i been too discreet? by partyhardy

In which Betty realizes she slowly watched Jughead fall for Veronica.

keep telling myself i'm not the desperate type by Krewlak

The new kid at school argues with Veronica and it sparks something inside of Jughead.

Supporting Characters by torombolo

Maybe this was inevitable, Jughead thought, staring at the couple in front of him. He spared a glance at Veronica. From the look on her face, she thought the same thing. Betty and Archie. Archie and Betty. Perfect. The American Dream.

“Fine,” the dark-headed girl had told him, “I’m fine.”

“Me too,” he said convincingly. Whether he was trying to convince her or himself he wasn’t sure.

But Darling, Who Ever Said That Love Was Fair? by bothromeoandjuliet

There is no room for blood and thorns in the bubblegum scented word that was Betty Cooper's life, and both Jughead and Veronica know it. But that doesn't mean that they can help what they are or what they feel. Only, nothings fair in love and friendship.

Hindsight, As They Say, Is Twenty-Twenty by bothromeoandjuliet

Betty's always wondered why Jughead Jones broke up with her, and now, eight years after the fact, she finally gets her answer. (A one shot/drabble ft. past!bughead, and past!veggie, with a healthy dose of jeronica sprinkled all the way through.) ((Also I manage to write fluff that doesn't just turn to angst!)) (((So thats exciting)))

Some Stucky:

This Side of the Blue by notlucy

Tucked against a set of crumbling, stone steps was a tank made of metal and glass, filled to the brim with greenish water, distorted sunlight filtering through and casting strange shadows. Playing tricks on the eye. A trick was the only explanation for what Steve saw floating there. This figment of his childhood. This myth. This legend.

Within the tank, the siren bared its teeth.

Paper Tree by Ellessey

Bucky just laughs and shoves another bite of egg in his mouth, giving Steve a shrug and a full-cheeked smile. He's so damn cute Steve wants to shout at him, but he can't seem to say any of the right things. "Shoulda got you a comb for Christmas," is what he comes up with instead.

"What did you get me?"

It's Steve's turn to shrug now, and if he looks more terrified than cheeky as he does so, he can only hope Bucky doesn't catch it before Steve hurries out the door.

On December first, Steve wraps up a letter for Bucky and sets it under their Christmas tree. Now he has twenty-four days left to figure out how to tell Bucky what he wrote, face to face.

Political Animals by crinklefries, Deisderium

Okay, so the real problem is that you shouldn’t fuck your arch-rival, political enemy, and the person you loathe the most in the world where you work. Or like, at least, you shouldn’t keep doing that.

But okay, the thing that Descartes or whoever didn’t know was that Steve really tries, but Bucky Barnes has a mouth that should probably constitute an eighth sin or something.

Jesus fucking Christ, Sam’s going to kill him.

(or—Steve’s best friend is the U.S. Constitution and he can’t seem to stop fucking a hot Republican. They shouldn’t fall in love, but somehow they do. That’s it, that’s the fic.)

like heaven stood up in you by napricot

“You said you were gonna miss him,” says Bruce slowly. “He was supposed to be back in five seconds, but you hugged him and said ‘I’m gonna miss you.’”

Bucky’s face is serene again now, and gives nothing away. “I know Steve,” he repeats. “You think you can hand him a time machine and some rocks of unspeakable power and he’s just gonna go put ‘em right back where they belong?”

Steve does put the Infinity Stones right back where they belong. He just does a couple other things too. Or: three timelines and a Reverse Time Heist.

Drive It Like You Stole It: A Bodyswap by AggressiveWhenStartled

Steve had gone fully red-faced with pedantic altar-boy fury. “Did your computer forget how to Google translate?” he bellowed, sticking his head up and over. Bucky yanked him down again. “What are you even trying to say?”

Bucky tried to shake the sparkles off the grenade he had been planning on lobbing over the divider. “It sounded like Latin to me,” he said reasonably, pursing his lips and frowning at the explosive. It dripped a sparkle, and a puff of purple smoke curled up where it hit the concrete.

“That’s because you spent Sunday school flirting with Sarah Cunningham,” Steve accused, bobbing back up to throw his shield and ducking back down to dodge a shining ball of blue light. “You wouldn’t know Latin if it came up and kissed you on your ugly mug.”

“I’d sure know it if Sarah Cunningham did, though.” Bucky grinned, struck by the memory. “That gal really knew what she was doing.”

Some DC stuff (Halbarry):

Iconoclast by the_mythologist

When an alien race’s covert invasion and assassination spree decimates the Supercommunity, the survivors must band together to defeat against an unseen, invincible enemy. With many of their greatest heroes off-world or dead, the remnants of the Justice League, Teen Titans, Birds of Prey, Batfamily, and a few unaffiliated ‘heroes’ are all that stand in the way between the ‘Iconoclasts’ and Earth’s annihilation.

John Constantine is most unamused.

Slowing Down by Cinderstrato

It hadn’t been long after they first met before Barry began to suspect, in a vaguely-formed way, that it would be easy to fall in love with Hal.

sweating out a hot day by magnetocent

it's a hot day, but barry decides it's not hot enough

Okay now some one-offs from random fandoms/pairings:

Off The Record by crookedswingset

Peter Parker is a corporate lackey whose sole job is to root out problem executives who waste Oscorp’s money and time. Wade Wilson is a reserve Avenger on the hunt for a prize even Iron Man couldn’t nail down: the real identity of everyone’s favorite webhead.

Too bad most people think Spider-Man is Harry Osborn.

Stars Beneath His Skin by ElloPoppet

On the white piece of paper was a smattering of small, black dots. McCoy turned the paper, in search of a pattern or alignment of some kind but not finding even a trace. The dots appeared to be drawn at random or rather, McCoy noticed as he squinted, printed. He looked up at where Spock was standing over him and returned a cocked eyebrow of his own.

“If you need help cracking some kind of code, this isn’t exactly my specialty, genius.”

Rather than banter back, Spock responded immediately and smoothly. “It is not a code. That is the alignment of stars that would have been visible in the night sky from Earth should one have been standing at the coordinates where my Mother was born at the moment of the occurrence.” Silence blanketed the room, McCoy not having a goddamn clue how to respond to that. Luckily, Spock wasn’t finished.

“I wish to memorialize her with what most races would call a tattoo, and I would like your help with the matter.”

Too Close To Love You by stylescoalition

Aleks used to have a big crush on Brett but he doesn’t anymore, which is great considering they work together, on top of being good friends (suuuper lit). Now, Aleks is going to be living with Brett in LA until he finds a place of his own, but just because he isn’t crushing on Brett doesn’t mean that Brett isn’t crushing on him. Suffice to say, it makes things complicated… except it really isn’t as complicated as they think.

drawn to wilder nights by detectivemeer

Scott and Derek start a frenemies-with-benefits relationship, and it goes about as well as one would expect.

#fic recs #2019 fic recs #Jeronica #stucky #halbarry

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madrut16 · 6 years ago

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October Challenge Day 4: Sticking to Tradition (Chris x MC)

Author’s Note: I haven’t written these two in forever! It feels good to go back to the pairing that started it all. And of course, I had to do something wedding related because after everything these two have been through, they deserve happiness. Also, thank you to everyone who’s requested a fic for this, you’re going to be seeing several of my old and new pairings throughout this month.

I am going to warn you though, the next ones probably won’t be posted on time because some prompts I’m finding more difficult to write than others and I’m also trying to write A New World Order as well. I will get them done I promise, they just won’t be on the day they’re supposed to be out. I think part of what’s holding me back is the time restraint so, I figured I would sacrifice getting these done on time for the good quality writing I want to give you!

Book/Pairing: The Freshman Series (Chris x MC)

Rating: PG-13

Summary: The night before the wedding Chris tries unsuccessfully to convince Maddy to forgo two final traditions.

@endlesshero1122 , @kinda-iconic , @syltti78 , @maxattack-powell , @chantelle-x0x, @choicessa, @choices121

A blissful yet reluctant sigh escaped my lips as my eyes wandered to the digital clock inside the hotel suite. My breathing was still irregular from our intimate activities that had just finished several moments earlier. It was almost midnight and a long day awaited us tomorrow, the one that had been circled on our calendars and printed on fancy stationery for months. Which meant it was time for me to ensure that these last few wedding traditions were upheld, no matter how old fashioned and superstitious they were.

“Still nervous?” Chris asked hearing me.

“A little,” I admitted. I had shared my insecurities about if we would actually last given our history and that of both our parents. “But, that’s not the reason for this.”

“Oh. What is then?”

“It’s getting late,” I murmured with reluctance, a part of me not wanting to leave for my own hotel room that was a floor above.

At this, he furrowed his eyebrows feigning a look of confusion. “So?”

I gave him a pointed stare, seeing through the innocent act he had put on.

“You know what. This is happening to matter how many times you’ve delayed this tonight.”

He responded with a dramatic pout that instantly made me laugh. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay? I actually let you sleep now.”

Still giggling, I held my ground. “Chris! That’s not gonna work on me. We agreed to this...months ago. We won’t be separated that long. You just have to survive until eleven, we’ve done this before. Think of it like at your mom’s house.”

“That’s never stopped us. Why should a little outdated tradition either?”

I rolled my eyes and began to untangle myself from his arms and out from under the covers. Just as I had gotten free enough to sit on the edge of the bed, his arm stopped my progress. Turning with a sigh, I met his gaze. I had never shared how much this habit of giving in to life’s superstitions meant to me. I was afraid he would think that I didn’t believe in us, in our marriage lasting.

“Hey, it’s for good luck. I know you don’t believe in that stuff but I do, especially when it comes to us. During every hardship, every time we almost didn’t make it to this day...these stupid little comfort things are what made sure I never gave up. So, please, just do it for me,” I pleaded in a serious tone.

At this, he dropped his arms and I stood and put my discarded nightgown on from the floor. I walked across the room and paused at the doorframe as my lips twitched up.

“Besides,” I added, coyly looking back at him. “It’ll be easier to keep you from seeing my dress until you’re supposed to.”

At the reminder of another tradition that required his restraint, he groaned in protest. “You tempt me. Are you really not going to even give me a hint of what it looks like?”

“Nope. Not the shape, or the material, nothing. It will be white though, I can give you that. I also think...that you will love it,” I replied, the giddy feeling of keeping this secret radiated through me.

His expression remained pouty until a mischevious grin appeared. “So if I tried to sneak up to your room to see you...?”

“Don’t even think about Powell.” I shut him down immediately. “Becca and Kaitlyn will be guarding that door like a hawk and they’re my bridesmaids so they’re loyal to me. You could bribe them with all the gold in Fort Knox and they aren't gonna let you in. Sorry, you'll just have to wait and see."

“Why are you torturing me like this! You know I’m bad at resisting temptation.”

I simply gave him a smirk. “I already told you, it’s a tradition and I want to see your reaction. Besides, you always torture me with surprises. Now, it’s my turn.”

“Fine,” he relented with a sharp exhale.

“Hey, Chris. You can do this,” I told him. My eyes drifted to the clock once more and seeing that it was officially our wedding day, my smile grew. “All you have to do is make it through the rest of the morning. And then, I will be all yours and you all mine.”

A matching look of happiness overtook him. “Yeah.”

I turned to finally leave but was stopped by his voice.

“Maddy?”

“What?” I lingered by the doorframe once more.

“I know we can do this. We’ve done all the counseling and the reading. I know it won’t be easy but, it’ll be worth it. We will be better than my father and your parents. I will love you, always and forever. I promise.”

I gasped slightly, a wave of emotion washing over me. I was the writer and yet it was Chris who always knew the right thing to say. And he knew that out of all the phrases in the world that those three words were my favorite.

“Always and forever,” I repeated them, the phrase dancing on my tongue. “I’m gonna hold you to that.”

I finally said goodnight and slipped out into the hallway. The silence allowed my thoughts to linger on that promise, and a warmth grew in my heart. Because somehow I knew that unlike in fiction that for us those words and our love would last.

#playchoices #choices stories you play #chris x mc #the freshman series #chris powell #choices october challenge

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whimsymuse · 7 years ago

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Storytelling (chapter 9)

➺ “You’re so used to following the path set for you by others, that is until a certain someone comes along and teaches you to write your own story.”

A story in which a famous idol falls for an average college student and they both try to follow their dreams, while struggling to stay together.

A/N This is actually my first fic for this fandom, so hopefully you all enjoy it!

Masterlist

pairing: Namjoon x Reader

genre: Fluff, humor and knowing me probably some angst

warnings: strong language

words: 2,993

Chapter: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, ...

Namjoon didn’t have a driver’s license, ‘For the good mankind’, he told you when you asked him why not. So, the two of you took the bus. You didn’t mind, you enjoyed taking the bus.

“It’s like taking a break from the stresses of life for awhile.” You said, “I’m not expected to be doing anything on the bus, so in between work and school, it gives me an opportunity to just breathe.”

Namjoon nodded, “I feel that way too. The bus takes you from one place to another and while you have stuff to do at both places, the bus is that in between space where you don’t have to do anything. Even on my most stressful days, taking the bus forces me to take a break and just focus on me, so maybe it is a blessing I can’t drive.”

“Yeah, for more reasons than one.” You teased, then turned to face the window where you found your reflection fondly smiling at Namjoon’s profile. It wasn’t often you found someone who shared the same opinion as you. Around other people, you mostly kept quiet about your wandering thoughts. Even Alyson would tease you about how overly contemplative you were at times, but with Namjoon you felt understood and free to be yourself.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as the bus drove further down the street. You watched the bus pass by a few restaurants and some shops along the way, a handful of which Namjoon had taken you to and you smiled at the fond memories. A part of you was upset with yourself for not having explored the city more so that you could’ve been to these places sooner, but another part of you was happy Namjoon was the one to show them to you. Things just seemed better whenever you were with him. He managed to make even the simplest of things appear wonderous, just in the way he looked at them and you knew that from the minute he looked at you.

But maybe that’s because he’s not used to a simple life, your mind voiced when a particular poster caught your eye, followed by several others after that. In hindsight you should’ve expected this in this part of town and also considering his band’s fame, but the sheer amount of it all was overwhelming. On every shop window and on every vendor’s cart that passed by the bus were with the faces of BTS. Everywhere you looked, you saw them and each time your eyes instantly settled on the 2D printed eyes of the man sitting beside you.

His face was everywhere. On posters, t-shirts, tv screens and even lotion bottles! With every store that passed, the gap in success between the two of you became more and more apparent and made you sink further and further into your seat. How could you ever compare to him? He was the leader of one of the most popular kpop groups in Korea, he fought for his dream and crushed all of the naysayers under his success while you didn’t even have a dream and your chances of having one were being crushed by the expectations of your parents. What did you even have to offer him? A shoulder to lean on when he’s tired? An ear to listen to him when he was stressed? What could you give him that he couldn’t easily get from someone else who’d be far more successful and far more beautiful? Your heart sank just as a voice in your head gave you the answer you never wanted to hear- Nothing. You had nothing to offer him and if anything you were just wasting his time.

Throughout you inner turmoil, Namjoon remained oblivious. You assumed he didn’t even realize this part of town was on the way to the restaurant. He also had a habit of spacing out on your way to places and while most of the time it didn’t bother you, this time you wished he’d been more attentive. Maybe then you could’ve remained oblivious too, and just for a little longer you could’ve kept exploring the city with Namjoon as if nothing else mattered. But you couldn’t, not after seeing this. This was a part of his life he didn’t want you to know about, a part he never intended for you to see yet here it was right in front of you and you had no idea how you were supposed to react. Initially you wanted to just ask him about it at restaurant, but it was right here in the open completely surrounding and you couldn’t just ignore it.

“Namjoon…” You began to say, but he cut you off by placing a hand over your own.

“We’re almost there.” He said with a smile as he intertwined your fingers and instantly your racing thoughts faded into white noise. His eyes sparkled as they looked down at you, making you feel as if you two were the only two people left in the world and for a second you believed that this could work, that you could really be something. And that feeling kept you going for the rest of the ride, but no more than that.

The minute you stepped foot into the restaurant, you felt underdressed. You, nor your thirty dollar sweater and fake gold necklace did not belong in a restaurant with crystallized champagne bottles and satin tablecloths.

Just as Namjoon started to approach one of the hostesses, you grabbed his arm.

“Namjoon,” You said in a hushed voice, “You can’t be serious right now. We’re going to eat here? This is a five star restaurant and the champagne alone is probably worth my one week’s paycheck.”

“Don’t worry about it. Tonight is my treat.” He responded as he gently covered your hand with his own before dragging you towards the hostess, ignoring all of your protests.

“Table for Kim Namjoon.” He said to the hostess and from behind his shoulder you noticed that she didn’t even check the list before she promptly guided you to your seats towards the back of the restaurant. She handed you both a menu and when you noticed that each food lacked a price you knew you were screwed.

You looked over at Namjoon with wide eyes and he responded with a questioning stare. “Joon please.” You whispered while hiding the side of your face from the other patrons with your menu, “We could eat somewhere else? There’s a great ramen place in front of my house that would cost a 16th of this meal tops for both of us, plus dessert!”

“Y/n, I said don’t worry about it. This dinner is my treat and I’ve saved up specifically for this, so just pick what you want to eat and enjoy.” He said with an easy smile as his eyes scanned the menu.

“I’m not even properly dressed for this place.” You insisted, trying to convince him to leave again, but he wasn’t having it.

“Neither am I.” He said, nodding towards his T-shirt and scarf. You visible deflated, knowing that there was no way you were going to get yourself out of this meal and your frown deepened when you heard him chuckle.

“Look, Y/n. I promise you that I can afford this dinner. Also I didn’t choose this place just to impress you. I haven’t gotten to eat much more than take-out recently, so I’m spoiling both you and myself tonight.” Namjoon smirked as he leaned forward and used his own menu to shield his face, “And for the record, you look better than everyone in this room right now, so don’t worry.”

If Namjoon’s aim was to embarrass you into submission, he achieved it. His words made your face flush a bright red, forcing you to hide behind your menu again, butthis time you actually looked at the options. Your head hurt as you tried to figure out what each dish was with the limited french you knew, but in the end, you just ordered what Namjoon ordered.

The rest of the dinner passed as relatively normal as it could, once you got over the glitz and glamour of the venue, of course. At that point the dinner really was just you and Namjoon enjoying each other’s company while eating overly priced, though painfully delicious chicken. Though eventually, it reached the point in the night you’d been dreading since the night began.

“So why did you want to talk to me?” Namjoon asked.

You paused with your fork halfway to your mouth, then slowly lowered it back to your plate. For a second you considered not telling him that you knew about his idol life, if only to enjoy the normalcy for a little bit longer. But that was just it - none of this was normal. You, a struggling college student, were eating dinner at a five star restaurant with the leader of a world famous kpop group. Who were you fooling, acting as if you and your fake gold necklace belonged here - belonged with him.

Your eyes lifted from your plate ever so slightly, only to freeze upon seeing Namjoon’s concerned expression. His eyes were focused on your every movement, as if he was analyzing every action to try and understand your silence, and knowing him he could be. You shifted uncomfortably under his intense stare until you could no longer stand the silence.

“Why did you invite me here?” the exasperated words leaving your mouth before you even processed you were thinking them.

Namjoon’s eyes widened at your sudden outburst, “I told you, to thank you for helping me finish my album.”

“No,” You said, “I mean, why me, why are you spending time with me and not someone else like…” You paused, making Namjoon tilt his head in confusion.

“Like?” He prompted.

“Like you!” You huffed out, then leaned over the table and pressed your fingers into your temples. A headache was coming on, you could feel it, but if you could just keep your raging thoughts in check for a few minutes, you could get through this conversation.

“What are you talking about?” He asked cautiously.

You sighed, “Namjoon I know who you are; I know about your band, your idol life, all of it… It’s not exactly something you can hide.” You mumbled that last part, thinking back to the entire street filled with stalls of nothing but BTS merchandise. How could he possibly think you weren’t going to find out?

Namjoon stayed silent, neither of you touching your food as you continued.

“You could have your pick of beautiful and lavish company.” You gestured to the restaurant around you, “Hell anyone in this room is bound to have more to offer you?”

Namjoon leaned back and rested a finger against his lips thoughtfully, “And you’re basing that assumption on what? The fact that they’re eating at a five star restaurant?” His eyebrow raised and you noticed that he was wearing a slight smirk which irked you beyond belief.

“Don’t play dumb, Joon. I’m saying that because they can afford this restaurant. They’re rich and they’re successful; they belong here and me… People glared at me the second I stepped foot in here and I couldn’t even pronounce half of the things on the menu.”

“You can probably still pronounce more than me, whenever I come here I order the same thing.” He chucked and you shot him a glare.

“Namjoon be serious!” You pleaded

He shook his head, “How can I be when you’re saying such ridiculous things?”

“What?” You asked, taken aback by his words.

Namjoon let out a breathy laugh, “You know what this reminds me of?” You stayed silent, not knowing how to respond, but Namjoon continued anyway, “Our first meeting, you know in the cafe.”

“I don’t-” You started to say, but Namjoon cut you off.

“Why do you keep telling me to spend time with other people when all I want to do is be with you?”

His words caught you completely off guard, making the the air whip right out of your lungs and your heart stutter. You stared up at him with wide eyes and could only manage to blink in response. Did you hear him correctly?

He let out a heavy sigh, “After all the time we’ve spent together I hoped that by now you’d understand…”

“What are you saying?” You said cautiously, barely above a whisper and for a second

you worried that Namjoon wouldn’t hear, but the determined expression he directed towards you told you otherwise.

He leaned forward onto the table and reached out to hold your hand. Your eyes flicked down to where your hand rested in his and a warm shiver ran up your spine as he started to gently trace the back of your hand with his thumb.

“I don’t care that you’re not rich or famous. I don’t care that you’re still a college student trying to find her way. You’re who I want to spend my time with.”

“I’m not good enough for you.” You said with a shake of your head.

“Don’t say that.” Namjoon responded as his grip on your hand tightened, “You’re smart, witty, and beautiful inside and out, you have so much to offer. You’re the reason I finished the album so early. You’ve inspired me in ways that no one else ever has and beyond that, you make me so, so happy. I just…” He took in a deep breath and lowers his gaze to your joined hands. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m even worthy of you…” He trailed off.

You almost had to remind yourself to breathe as your heart stuttered in your chest. This couldn’t be real. Was he really saying what you thought he was? “Namjoon…” You started to say, mostly to say something, but you had no idea what else you were going to say. To honest, you didn’t trust yourself to say anything because you had no idea what was going on. Luckily, Namjoon spoke before you had to continue.

“But that doesn’t matter.” Histone shocked you, forcing you to meet his eyes which burned with the determination that threw you off earlier. You almost felt intimidated by the force behind his expression, especially since it was directed towards you, but for some reason you couldn’t bring yourself to look away.

“I want to be worthy of you and I’ll try my best every single day to show you, if you’d just give me the chance.”

“But we’re so different.” You said.

His earnest expression broke into a small smile, “Are we though? We like the same books, we both like going on walks, but can also enjoy the comfort of the indoors, we both love writing - Hell, you even made me develop this weird love for peppermint tea!”

Some of the tension in your shoulders lifted as you let out a short laugh, “It’s not weird!” You protested.

“Yeah it is! It’s boiling leaf juice that makes my mouth feel cold?! It’s your fault that I like this stuff now.” He pouted and you shook your head at his ridiculousness.

“You’re not going to give up are you?” You stated more than asked as a faint smile graced your lips.

“Not if the only reason you’re against this is because I’m a little more famous than you.”

Your eyes narrowed, “A little?”

“Okay, a lot, but forget that for a second. If that’s the only reason you’re fighting this, then I won’t stop trying to win you over.”

Your eyes fell way from his gaze as they trailed over the scene around you. Everyone from the restaurant patrons to the waiters was dressed prim and proper. They breathed an air of rich hubris that you’d only ever seen when you went to family reunions. These people reminded you of your rich family and maybe that’s why you felt so uncomfortable. They oozed vanity and conceit and their voices rang with a tune of condescension. Your stomach churned as your eyes continued to sweep over the room, that is until they fell once more on the man sitting before you.

He’s not like them. Your mind whispered. He’s only ever treated you like an equal. The only time you’ve ever felt uncomfortable around him was when you found out he was famous and you convinced yourself that that changed things. He was always sweet to you.

You smiled fondly at him. Alyson was right, he was still the same kind and dorky guy from the cafe you fell head over heels for, so why were you fighting this?

You ran a nervous hand through your hair, feeling Namjoon’s eyes carefully watch your every movement, then let out a heavy sigh, “Okay.” you finally said.

He looked at your slightly confused, “Okay?” He asked.

Feeling your cheeks begin to heat up, “I want to give this a try.” You clarified.

Namjoon blinked at you shocked, “R-really?”

You nodded and bit your lip to suppress a grin as Namjoon let out an almost comical sigh of relief.

“Wow.” He breathed out as he leaned back in his chair, still managing to keep his hand on yours.

“Wow what?” You asked just as breathlessly as he sounded.

He shook his head, “I just never thought I could feel this happy.” The smile he flashed you was by far the brightest smile you’ve ever seen and it made you blush bright red, knowing you were the cause of it.

“God” You groaned as you pressed your burning face into your one free hand, “You’re so cheesy, I can’t stand it.”

“You love it.” Namjoon singsonged then chuckled when you groaned even louder and pressed your face face further into your hand.

You smiled into your palm despite yourself. You’d never admit it out loud, but he was right - you really did love it.

Chapter: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, ...

A/N Yikes! I’m sorry this is so late guys, but I’ve just been so caught up in the chaos that is the start of school that I completely forgot to post this. But here it is now! I hope you all enjoy!!

please do NOT edit, copy or repost

#namjoon fluff #namjoon fanfic #namjoon angst #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts #storytelling #My writing #namjoon/reader #namjoonxreader

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canaryatlaw · 7 years ago

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Alright, I should get this written so I can actually go to sleep. Today was alright, not the best but not bad. I woke up to my alarm at 10:55 (again, setting up my schedule so I could sleep in multiple days a week was SUCH a good decision) then got ready and made my way down to the DV courthouse for my last shift for the time being, I’m hoping to get back there at some point depending on how the next few months play out. There was an amusing interaction with the sheriffs at the metal detector by the front where one of them was like ‘you work here?” and looking kinda doubtful and the other one was just like “oh yeah, she works here, she’s good” and the first one was like “well if you’re gonna vouch for her she must be good” 😂 it makes life much easier when you can get on the sheriff’s good side, so I try my best to stay there. Got to the clinic, ended up waiting almost an hour for a case, which I spent looking at the secured transactions flashcards I have written up so far. There’s no wifi at the courthouse (grr cook county why) so I just had it pulled up in a tab and was looking at them. I’m definitely going to need to listen to some lectures on the subjects, because there’s only so much I can take in from reading words without an actual explanation of how these things work. But around 1:30 I got pulled in for a case, I was the first one of the volunteers (there were probably like 4 or 5 of us) to get a case, so that made me happy lol I know they give me the more difficult ones because they know I know what I’m doing and they very much appreciate that, lol. It was a fairly typical case, woman filing against the father of her children (they had six kids together) because he wouldn’t stop showing up at her house like every single day, banging on the door and demanding to see her, so obviously that’s not great. He was also like, regularly climbing into her house through a window he had broken, like she’d come home and he’d just be in her house waiting for her, I was a little worried about whether it would be granted or not at first because harassment cases tend to be kind of a toss up, but as we got further into it and there were some physically violent incidents along with threats like “I’m going to do to you what your sister’s husband did to her” because her sister was killed by her husband. so yeah, not great stuff lol. What was really frustrating was when we looked her up in the system, this was like, the 6th year in a row she’s come to file for an order, and each time the case just kinda fell through the cracks, she’d miss a court date and it’d be dismissed, or they couldn’t serve him, just procedural errors that reflect the incompetence of the system. But we got everything printed and filed, then had to wait quite a while because there was a backlog, which then of course meant once we got to the courtroom there were a ton of people ahead of us, because we were one of the last ones to file since we started an hour late. As soon as we walked into the courtroom and I saw the judge I was like 😑😑😑😑😑😑 she’s probably my least favorite judge currently at the courthouse, I know I’ve talked about her on here before because I’ve had past cases go bad in front of her. She’s young, really young, like she looks like she couldn’t be more than 30 but I know if she’s a judge she’s gotta be at least like, 35, all of which I bring up because younger judges often feel insecure in their positions and then end up overcompensating by lashing out at people. This judge was just extremely condescending and rude, treating the victims like idiots and insisting she take control of the entire process, instead of allowing them to speak she has to control the narrative and if it didn’t fall into her already decided model, then well that sucks for you. I started getting a little more worried at this point because I know the way the affidavit was written could be misleading if they didn’t read it properly (and by properly I mean reading the whole damn affidavit, which seems to be too difficult for some judges 😑), and if she wouldn’t let my client explain it could look like the situation was a lot less extreme than it actually was. So we finally get called, one of the last, it’s at least 5 pm at this point. so my client goes up, and the judge starts being super obnoxious and just snaps at her over literally nothing (she was mad the client would say “yes” before she finished her question???? like that’s not something to get bent out of shape over) and ended up passing the case and said she’d recall it in a minute, which was just like ??? really?? was that necessary?? So my client comes back and she’s like truly bewildered as to what had just happened and what she’d done wrong, and she started crying because she was tired and stressed and just wanted to get through this, and I got really mad because she had been doing so well the entire day, it’s a fairly regular occurrence for people to break down while telling us their story, but she had been doing really well, so seeing this happen when we were so close to the end was really fucking frustrating. but one of the female sheriffs I’m friendly with and I were able to get her to calm down a bit until the case got called again, and I was basically like I know she’s crazy but just humor her for now. So she goes up and I’m really having my fingers crossed this doesn’t blow up in our faces. They get through the introductory questions okay, then she looks at the affidavit and starts questioning why it had taken her a week to come in from the last incident, but she at least allowed my client to explain that him showing up has been a daily occurrence for months now, and that he’d regularly come inside her house without permission, and that seemed to be enough to sway the judge, so she granted the order and I really just had a big sigh of relief, that at least it was over and we got a positive outcome, even if I was still hopping mad about how my client was treated. like seriously, you’re in a courthouse that’s specifically dedicated to domestic violence, you’re dealing with victims here, not criminals, and there is absolutely no excuse for losing your temper on someone who has been brave enough to come here and try to protect themselves when that is really a huge feat. There’s just no fucking excuse. I noted it on my court report I filled out afterwards, but I kinda doubt that is ever going to be taken into consideration because sadly judges are largely untouchable, even when they act inappropriately. sigh. at least we won in the end, and hopefully this one will stick, she seemed very determined that she was going to handle this and I believed her. So we went back downstairs and I tried to control myself but basically exploded at my supervisor about the judge, which she fully understood lol so that helped a bit. But I headed out, it was like 5:45 at this point and The Flash came on at 7, so I was in a bit of a rush. But I walk down to the train station and while waiting for the train I ran into a friend from church who happens to be a lawyer as well, both him and his wife are and they work in public interest law, and they’re just super cool people, so I talked to him for a few minutes about how mad I was mostly haha before the trains showed up and we went in different directions. Train to the bus, bus is slow, so by the time I got home it was like 6:52, so I ran inside and turned on the tv, and was just able to heat up some food and sit down to watch the episode. I was of course excited for this episode because it had Leo in it, even if he’s not *my* Snart, he’s still a great character and I adore Wentworth Miller and his acting. There’s also the fact that we were getting Earth-X Black Siren, which I had mixed feelings about, partially because after the crossover I got really mad that they hadn’t written earth-x Laurel as part of the rebellion, and right after Sara had the confrontation with evil Lance they end up at the rebel HQ and both of them are faced with the sister they had lost and like, tell me that’s not an absolutely brilliant plan for a scene. So knowing they didn’t do that ticked me off, though I guess it makes sense that if Tommy and Oliver were evil Laurel might be too, but I thought her sister being murdered by Nazis would be enough to make her part of the rebellion, but oh well. As far as the actual episode goes, I enjoyed it for the most part, Leo was well used, his lines were always very fitting and witty, and I liked how he just completely saw through Barry in like two seconds. I kinda had to laugh at little at them trying soooooo hard to convince us that the entire team was so broken up about losing Ralph when like, nobody in the audience fucking cares about him and most are glad he’s “dead” (I’m pretty certain they’re gonna bring him back). Siren-X’s powers were pretty cool, the superhearing thing was awesome, and she seemed to be very power as far as her canary cry (siren cry?) goes. I really did like the climax moment when both Leo and Barry are down and Leo just cuts through the crap and gets to Barry, getting him to save the day, I liked it a lot. I feel like Siren-X could’ve been used more, though tbh I really didn’t need a Nazi version of Laurel Lance when we already have an evil version of her. Is there an earth out there where Laurel has powers and is a good person? Because that I’d like to see. Anyway. As soon as that was over I switched to Rise since Black Lightning is over now I can watch that live. It was an okay episode, didn’t really do anything for me, kinda felt like more of a filler than anything else. I laughed when there were like “it’s tech week!” and they hadn’t done a full run through of the show yet because on the one hand I’ve legit opened shows without having done a full run through, but on the other the idea of a school musical with that big of a cast to have not done a full run through until tech is fucking nuts. I also kept laughing at how much the principal was concerned about ticket sales, because ticket sales to the school musical are *obviously* such a huge source of income to the school that he should be this concerned about it (most schools would be lucky if they break even on the money put into the show by ticket sales). So yeah, not my favorite episode, but not bad. After that I was out of current shows to watch so I went back to Game of Thrones which I haven’t watched in a while, and ended watching 2x02. Pretty good episode, I continue to love Arya and just how kick ass she is with everyone, and I’m curious to know how this all plays out. I will say I was kinda confused by the last scene, because I admittedly had not been paying all that much attention, but it looked like Jon Snow was getting chased by a crying baby ?? Lol, that was an amusing thought. I had been slightly distracted because I was officially switching over my twitter account, which meant I was soft blocking all the IRL people to move them to my other account so my old one will just be for internet peeps. So I got that done and ended up being down like 120 followers 😂 but since I unfollowed a bunch of people that count had gone down as well so the disparity isn’t that big. I also changed my handle to match my URL here, so if you want to look me up my @ADACanary there. I have my account temporarily on private just so IRL people don’t get confused, but if you request me and you’re not an IRL person and like, don’t look like a super creeper (lol) I’ll approve you. But yeah, after that I basically started getting ready for bed and here we are. I have a 9:30 am PT appointment tomorrow, so hopefully I’ll at least have more time to study than I would’ve if I had slept in till like, noon lol. And yeah, we’ll go from there. I’m way tired now so I’m gonna head to bed. Goodnight my loves. Sweet dreams.

#daily journal #April 2018 #Rachel watches The Flash

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mlablockquote633 · 5 years ago

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I all the time touch upon the type of the paper, highlighting whether or not it is well written, has right grammar, and follows a correct structure. When you deliver criticism, your comments ought to be trustworthy however all the time respectful and accompanied with recommendations to enhance the manuscript. My reviews are likely to take the form of a abstract of the arguments within the paper, adopted by a abstract of my reactions and then a series of the specific points that I wished to raise. I typically refer back to my annotated model of the net paper. I normally differentiate between main and minor criticisms and word them as directly and concisely as possible. When I advocate revisions, I try to give clear, detailed feedback to information the authors. Even if a manuscript is rejected for publication, most authors can profit from ideas. I attempt to persist with the details, so my writing tone tends towards neutral. The evaluation process is brutal sufficient scientifically without reviewers making it worse. Using a duplicate of the manuscript that I first marked up with any questions that I had, I write a quick abstract of what the paper is about and what I really feel about its solidity. Then I run via the precise factors I raised in my summary in more detail, in the order they appeared in the paper, offering web page and paragraph numbers for many. Finally comes a list of really minor stuff, which I try to maintain to a minimal. I then sometimes go through my first draft wanting on the marked-up manuscript once more to verify I didn’t miss something important. If I feel there may be some good materials in the paper but it needs lots of work, I will write a fairly lengthy and particular review mentioning what the authors have to do. If the paper has horrendous difficulties or a confused idea, I will specify that however won't do a lot of work to attempt to suggest fixes for every flaw. I print out the paper, as I find it easier to make comments on the printed pages than on an electronic reader. I learn the manuscript very rigorously the first time, attempting to follow the authors’ argument and predict what the subsequent step might be. However, I know that being on the receiving finish of a review is sort of tense, and a critique of something that is shut to 1’s heart can easily be perceived as unjust. I attempt to write my critiques in a tone and type that I might put my name to, even though reviews in my area are normally double-blind and not signed. I believe it improves the transparency of the evaluate process, and it additionally helps me police the quality of my own assessments by making me personally accountable. A evaluate is primarily for the benefit of the editor, to help them reach a call about whether or not to publish or not, but I try to make my evaluations helpful for the authors as nicely. I always write my reviews as if I am speaking to the scientists in particular person. At this first stage, I attempt to be as open-minded as I can. I don’t have a formalized guidelines, but there are a variety of questions that I usually use. Does it contribute to our information, or is it old wine in new bottles? Mostly, I am making an attempt to identify the authors’ claims within the paper that I didn't find convincing and guide them to ways in which these factors could be strengthened . If I discover the paper especially fascinating , I tend to offer a more detailed evaluate as a result of I need to encourage the authors to develop the paper . My tone is one of trying to be constructive and helpful despite the fact that, of course, the authors may not agree with that characterization. I begin by making a bullet point record of the primary strengths and weaknesses of the paper after which flesh out the evaluate with particulars.

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satc-revisited · 7 years ago

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season two episode eighteen: ex and the city

Oh my god. I absolutely hate how long it takes me to a.) come back to these and b.) write one of these. I never mean to be gone this long, but every time I do the world is completely different and I can't talk myself into writing one, until I'm doing nothing else but watching Sex and the City and scolding myself about not finishing this series. How effing hard could it be? The show is 30 minutes long for Christssake. I am going to make an effort to do these and complete these for no other reason than it should not be that hard to do so.

Anyway.

Some random flower market in NYC. As Carrie talks about life being about choices, they shoehorn in a metaphor about "big choices" so that of course we can segue to Big. Carrie is buying flowers and unsure whether to get the bouquet that lasts for three days or five days. Miranda doesn't care, so Carrie gets the cheaper ones. This scene is a cacaphony of color.

Suddenly Miranda spots Steve heading towards her down the street, in his workout gear and playing with a basketball. Miranda snaps the phone shut and panics, dragging Carrie away so that her money literally spins out of her hands and she doesn't buy the flowers, trying to drag her down the street before Steve spots them. Unfortunately he already did, and looks pained at knowing that Miranda would go so far as to run away from him on the street. Carrie turns back and mouths a silent apology before letting Miranda pull her away in a feign of calmness.

Later at the coffeeshop, the girls are all splitting dessert in a way that makes me think they didn't actually have lunch first. Carrie is recounting how hurt Steve looked at Miranda's snubbing. Charlotte sympathizes, but Miranda doesn't think she should be expected to small talk with a man who has been inside her. She says when she sees former couples that are still friends, she has no idea how they manage to do it. Samantha, of course, says she's never been able to be friends with any man, because "women are for friendship, men are for fucking." Even though Carrie snits another SATC-ism at her that is a part of my normal vernacular ("sweetie you have got to learn how to form an opinion") I'm with them both. I've never been able to be friends with an ex. It took me forever to reject offers of monogamous relationships that I didn't want, and even LONGER to learn how to dump in relationships I was over, and I've barely even approached the idea of not hating and wishing death on exes let alone being friends with them. I've only just now had any ex that I ended on good terms with, and I think that's only because I'm still in love with him (kind of, not as bad as it used to be) and I was still the one who broke it off for practical (though still insulting) reasons. Although I disagree about women being for friendships. Women bore me. (Just for fun, look at me talk about that guy for the first time here http://satc-revisited.tumblr.com/post/50545556678/season-one-episode-three-valley-of-the-twenty, literally a million years ago. He was 22! Omg. A baby.)

Charlotte says, immaturely, that if the relationship doesn't work then the man doesn't get her as a friend. As if that hurts anyone at all or anyone even cares. Carrie goes along with this framing, asking whether Charlotte really thinks denying her friendship is a punishment, and Samantha corrects this perspective, because denying "friendship" after is letting them off easily. Definitely. A man no longer having to put up with you after he's no longer fucking you is a win for him. The punishment is making him still deal with your bullshit even though he no longer gets any of the benefits. Miranda says she'd love to be someone who breaks up and then is all "go, prosper," but she's much more "we didn't work out; you need to not exist." I have only a handful of years til I'm the same age as the actresses are supposed to be at this point in the series, and it no longer seems realistic to compare where they are to where I hope to be or not be when I'm that age.

Anyway, Carrie says this kind of post breakup behavior is childish, even though she acknowledges she isn't any better because she hasn't been able to be friends with Big, but she still laments that it has to be that way. Samantha says their vanquished love goes from your failed relationship to their next one with another woman, and Carrie disagrees, claiming that there's no way Big and Natasha's love is the same as hers and Big. Miranda notes that Carrie stopped calling Natasha "the idiot stick figure with no soul," and Carrie admits it's because she happened to see them in a coffeeshop holding hands and being lovey, and she finally understood that her ex has moved on and is happy. She says it was ok, but this causes a silence that is only broken when Samantha goes back to balefully bashing Natasha, and the others join in.

Later, Carrie is parlaying this into her column, wondering what needs to be present in order to be friends with an ex. How is it possible to transfer a formerly passionate love into something platonic?

Miranda is this scene of single domesticity when she randomly gets a knock on the door. It's Steve, having somehow gotten into the building past the buzzer that he'd need downstairs and is standing at her door. Miranda pauses but Steve knows she's there. She opens the door and Steve immediately starts condemning her from running away from him on the street. Miranda tries to explain that she wasn't expecting to see him and she doesn't do well with ex boyfriends. Steve gets all emo and says, "Miranda, this is me, Steve. I held your head while you were sleeping" which seems like a low blow. Miranda's eyes instantly fill with tears, and she turns away while Steve invites himself in. When Miranda starts freaking out, Steve starts to backtrack but it's too late. Miranda starts ranting about how she's a shitty person and Steve would never do anything that shitty to her. "What do you call showing up to your apartment [unannounced] and calling you shitty?" Steve asks, which breaks the tension. And probably this is the moment where it should be known that Steve and Miranda should be together, because being able to relate to each other this way and having this kind of pull over each other seems like the stuff of lasting love. Steve asks about getting together for dinner or something, and although Miranda begs off because she has a date, they hug and plan to get together again soon.

And in a massive return of the Subplot of the Week that I Absolutely Do Not Care About, Charlotte is on a run when she sees a horse and starts reminiscing about the horse she used to own that bucked her and scarred her for life. Blah blah blah.

Samantha is wearing red with leopard print. You know... can you imagine strutting around looking like this in every day life? Whenever my life (and body) is perfect and I can get away with wearing this kind of eye popping shit I'm always uncomfortable with it, because I live in a big city and I hate being catcalled and hit on by randoms when I'm just trying to go about my daily life; I've never gone out with any asshole annoying enough to try to get my phone number on the street or in the grocery store or something, so it's always awkward and irritating to want to look good just to have to turn down a bunch of jerks interrupting your day. Like if it's night time and I'm at a place, yes. If it's the day and even if I'm wearing something hot, please just leave me alone. Samantha crosses paths with some suit wearing guy who looks like a meathead Brendan Fraser, and gives a percursory stop in front of the Prada store to give him the opportunity to talk to her. He quickly asks her out to dinner and Samantha laughs at how direct he's being. "How'd you get to be so cocky?" she asks, and we are in for an ironic mirror of the last season finale. Samantha takes his number and agrees to think about meeting him for a drink.

Later, Carrie spots a crazy ridiculous looking floral print dress in her closet from the 80s and apparently this convinces her that if she can hang onto old bullshit clothes, she can be friends with an ex. She drops the dress and immediately calls Big (and in Carrie's world of finding crazy rationalizations to excuse her behavior, this one is an obvious stretch). Unfortunately Natasha answers the phone and Carrie rudely hangs up in her face. Then she remembers that this is the 90s (or whatever) and caller ID is a thing, so she calls back. This time Big answers, and Carrie somewhat coolly returns to normal, explaining that she accidentally hung up the first time, and asking him to apologize to Natasha for her. She tries to be an adult and ask about how his wife is doing and Big tries to go with the flow, even though he thinks Carrie sounds nuts. He's wearing a money green tie, which is an interesting though lateral change from the usual yellow gold one he's outfitted in.

Carrie makes a bit of a to do about how she's making the "first call," and pulls out a prepared speech, explaining herself: the speech asks about no longer pretending the other doesn't exist and trying to be friends instead. Big says neutrally enough that he'd like that, since he's wanted to call Carrie but didn't know whether she wanted to hear from him. She asks if he'd like to do lunch and he readily agrees.

We snap right into the lunch date, for which Carrie is wearing her hair loose and a plaintive carnation pink dress. She notes that she used to make their lunch reservations in Big's name, but this time she put it in her own. I don't get why that's supposed to be a big deal or anything... is it supposed to be a thing to make reservations in your partner's name or something? Anyway, Big sidles over from the bar and babbles nervously, tripping on a slick portion of floor, which amuses Carrie to see that he is so anxious. They are shown to their table and try to politely carry on as though there is no history behind this meeting. This facade quickly crumbles when they change their orders of water to scotch and a cosmopolitan respectively.

A short while later, the drinks have loosened things up to the point where Carrie thinks the simple expedient of alcohol is all you need to be friends with an ex. Carrie is complaining about Big's music choices that she apparently sorely tolerated, while Big chortles immoderately. They are reminiscing about shared mornings and other relationship memories that seem too intimate a dip down memory lane than I'd have thought would be a good idea, but whatever. I still haven't tried to be platonic non sexual friends with any of my exes so what do I know. Men ARE for fucking - why would I be friends with them without it?

Carrie stops and ceremoniously clanks her knife against her bowl and announces she wants Big to tell her about Natasha. "Really?" Big asks, spotting the gaping hole in this logic even if Carrie is going to pretend not to see it. And he only gets as far as calling Natasha "sweet" before Carrie has to cut him off, unable to deal with it. I know some day my ex is going to choose a girl, and it's going to be someone he wants in a way he never wanted me, and there's no way I could hear or even be anywhere near him existing and wanting this person in stark defiance of the way he was beaten down into giving into my persistent and mindlessly devoted desire. Like, I can't be anywhere near that shit. I wouldn't even pretend. My entire existence being shorn into such a forgettable annoyance in the face of seeing you actually choose someone else - no fucking way. Finally looking at the reality full on that he'd done it in the PAST was what finally insulted me enough to stop embarrassing myself; what on earth could I be expected to do with that as a current reality? It's what made me want to stop wanting him, stop the middle of the night texts, showing up for hard won trysts, all of it. My dignity finally reappeared, belatedly freeing me from all the realities my desire for him so effectively blinded me to.

Anyway, Carrie should have realized she was outpaced when she couldn't even stand to hear Big call his girlfriend "sweet," and obliviously asks that they not talk about relationships until they're really serious. Big pauses and informs her with pity in his voice that he is serious about Natasha. See? This. This moment here. I couldn't exist anywhere in the same galaxy as this. You don't choose and that's my shame; I won't let you rub it in by telling about someone else that you DID. As Carrie blinks disbelivingly, Big drops the bomb that they are engaged. Carrie claps her hands to her forehead, looking unseeingly through a sudden splitting headache. Big stammers through an explanation but Carrie reaches reliably for righteous rage - "how can you be engaged? You have a problem with commitment, remember?" Yeah, well, I can see that not being much of an issue when the woman is 27 and you are 42. I had a rebound with a man who was born in the 70s - I never asked exactly when - and even though that had to have been somewhere around possibly a decade plus of an age difference, it wasn't close enough to ever remove the daddy/daughter dynamic. Which, I ain't have a daddy. So I was naturally resistant to that.

Carrie points out that Big told her he never wanted to get married again. Big brushes this off, so Carrie clarifies that he just never wanted to get married to *her*. She then downshifts into dramatic anger and tells him not to even speak Natasha's name to her, after he wasted two years of her life only to marry "some twenty five year old *girl* after only five months." Heyooo. I wasted like four years of my life with my ex and he only just NOW admitted to stringing me along, despite my frequent and persistent overtures that he just tell me to fuck off if he really wasn't interested in me. It was the craziest thing... I'd been with men who acted *the same way* I was behaving, and I could see so clearly why it was wrong and why they shouldn't be doing it, yet when I was in the position of wanting someone that was resistent to me, I could not shut off the very same behaviors that I knew had pushed me away.

Carrie dramatically rises in front of Big and tries to ignore the fact that the entire restaurant is staring at her yell at Big and nearly trip over a chair on the way out. Check out this aggressively besuited crowd though lol. Literally everyone in this restaurant looks like they're having a business meeting.

Big tries to catch Carrie and asks her not to end things like this. Carrie continues to rant, somewhat disingenuously, that she was trying to be friendly. But, is that really true if you can only be friends predicated on your ex never moving on with someone else, or only doing so in circumstances that are acceptable to you? Like, if you're going to be friends with him, then you kind of lose the right to have conditions based on your failed relationship I feel like? At any rate, Carrie snits off in a huff leaving nothing but destruction in her wake.

The next day Carrie joins Charlotte who is trying to literally get back on the horse, bitching about Big's engagement the whole time. She's wearing cuffed jeans and a red halter with gold strappy sandals. Charlotte reminisces more about her old horse and I still don't care. Carrie rants that she was the one who broke in Big and made him ready for commitment and now Natasha "gets to ride him." As someone who has had two exes get married immediately after to the next person they dated, another get in a really long term relationship after and another date someone who looks just like her after, I no longer have any energy to complain about what I did or didn't provide for an ex's next moves. And to be fair that's probably an age thing. My exes that are still in their early/mid twenties didn't settle down after me.

Samantha took up "Mr. Cocky" on his offer of a "very friendly drink," ending with them back at her place. Samantha is explaining that she never picks up men off the street and bangs them (an obvious lie) and Mr. Cocky says he has to warn her about something: he has a really large penis. Samantha giggles giddily, but he corrects her that he's not just being cocky and it's a real problem; most women can't deal with it. Samantha thinks she's seen it all and nothing he is packing could scare her. Additionally, do you know what happened in this scene that no one talked about?

Mr. Cocky is married! That goes totally without any mention whatsoever. So I won't whine about it either. Mr. Cocky seems downtrodden and sad about his huge penis, but smiles when Samantha encourages him. However when he drops his pants, Samantha gives a small cough and looks increasingly alarmed as he walks over what can only be a fireman's hose closer to her.

The next day walking down another new york street with Carrie, Samantha recounts her surprise and dismay. She's also wearing sunglasses in her hair again, and this time she's wearing an entirely leopard print dress NEXT TO Carrie's red dress. As Samantha prattles on, Carrie reminds her that this time last year she dumped a guy whose dick was too small, asking "what are you, Goldicocks?" How long do you think the SATC writers were waiting to use that one?

Steve and Miranda are coming back after their friendly dinner; Steve wants his tshirt back and for some reason Miranda decides to give it to him. Please. This would be another downside of being friends with an ex. You ain't getting those tshirts back, homeboy. Steve tries to kiss her goodnight, and Miranda gives him the cheek. But Steve has something else in mind as he slowly wheedles her into a hook up. Maybe that was his plan all along... either way, another count against trying to be friends with an ex. So far they are 0 for 2 for trying, aren't they? Miranda and Steve sit awkward in bed after, discussing why they broke up. Miranda cites money, schedule, and goals, and Steve agrees halfheartedly. Miranda seems open to a FWB thing, which has never worked with Steve so I don't know why she'd think it would now. He clearly isn't behaving like he doesn't want her back.

Across town, Samantha has decided to give Mr. Cocky another try. She puffs on a blunt after having taken "two advanced yoga classes," and tosses her leg confidently on his shoulder. She starts breathing exercises and he plays along. I mean, if you're gonna fuck a guy with a ridiculously huge dick, you probably shouldn't go for legs on the shoulders, right? He starts to push in and Samantha is both capably accepting and pleased. But then he says "ok, here we go," and Samantha is alarmed that they're not already there yet. Yeah, I don't know. I don't sleep with black men anymore, so this kind of thing doesn't come up. Long story short, we get the waka-waka-waka payoff that this was how Samantha made her first male friend.

Charlotte successfully got back on the horse. Moving on.

Big is hanging out in a yellow polo and those old man house slippers and decides to call Carrie. He gets her machine and starts to leave a message, calling to apologize and manages to do so sincerely enough. It turns out Carrie is standing there in her nightgown screening.

("Screening" probably isn't in the average millennial vocabulary because answering machines weren't a thing when we might have been using them.) Big says he didn't want to hurt Carrie and she hurried picks up, effusively agreeing with this sentiment. Dude... if I made an ass of myself shouting at my ex in a restaurant and got a splitting headache at the news that he was engaged to someone else, I wouldn't be eagerly awaiting some sign of contrition and an apology. This would be beyond the point where I'm fervently wishing for an ex's violent death. Carrie apologizes for her behavior as well, acknowledging that she needs to move on. She tries to be a bigger person and wish him the best with his life with Natasha; she doesn't mean it but she wants to eventually. Ugh. She and Big have had these dramatic breakups like three or four times now, which is uncomfortable for me to acknowledge. Those suck. Carrie managed to hang onto this positive outlook until one day she gets an invitation to their engagement party in the mail. She drops it on the bed and silently kicks it away with her foot without even opening it.

Later, Carrie is at that one bar they like to go to, ranting about how Big is six blocks away at an engagement party. Charlotte offers incredulous solidarity, but Carrie maturely begs off; she was kidding herself thinking they could be friends because they never were that. Yep. Each girl has a different brightly colored martini glass and I wonder if that's a real thing that restaurant did, or something that was just affected for the fact that this is television.

Samantha orders another round while Carrie continues to bitch. "Why her?" she whines, which translates to "why not me?" Miranda says, "one word: Hubble" which Carrie gratefully seizes upon as the answer to all her problems. Apparently something something something The Way We Were which I've personally never seen and probably never will - the Casablanca school of romantic film is not ever going to be my jam, sorry, blame the generation gap - which from what I can gather is like... Barbara Streisand as an Othery Jew in love with a generic bland white man who chooses a classy brunette which makes Carrie draw the helpful parallel that she is a fellow wild and crazy curly haired woman that gets overlooked for the safe choice. The other girls are appalled that Samantha has never seen The Way We Were - "chick film," Samantha explains. Carrie may have curly hair, but it's not that she's too complicated to love. She's just a delusional overdramatic fuck up. Even if the world were boiled down into "the simple girls and the Katie girls" you still have to acknowledge that "complicated" often means "fucked up" and/or "crazy." I'm not easy to love and it's fully because I'm a can of worms, not that I'm "complicated." The difference, I think, is that I recognize this makes me a difficult partner; I'm not trying to pass it off as men not being strong enough to deal with my particular brand of baggage. Generic girls are more malleable. It's not the epiphany Carrie righteously attempts to grasp. Also: if this really was an Othery Jew parallel, which Barbara Streisand is, I gather, famous for being, that's kind of.... shitty of this show to do.

The girls start loudly/drunkenly singing in the restaurant which the other patrons abide placidly enough. It's a classic SATC scene and while I don't begrudge Carrie looking for an ego-softening explanation to why she was rejected for a more easygoing partner, at the same time... what's wrong with just accepting that you weren't chosen and that's all there is to it? You don't have to make the other woman a "simple girl" and yourself an enigmatic type to complex for ordinary men. You weren't good enough. Really. Sometimes it's just that simple. You weren't good enough. And it annoys me that a lot of people see no problem with rejecting others based on capricious, small, and tenuous flaws, but have to do Dominique Dawes level mental gymnasts to avoid accepting that anyone could reject them, too, the same way.

To that end, Carrie struts over to Big's engagement party at the plaza, bursting with the overflowing arrogance of her enlightenment of being too much for Big. She's wearing another timelessly simple dress which is flattering.

A plain white dress for her ex’s engagement party, I guess, geddit? She isn't planning to go in but can't stop herself from swinging by anyway. She happens to catch Big and Natasha as they are leaving, and Big spots her, leaving Natasha waiting in the limo with Raul. He walks over and smarms about being speechless. "The party's over," he says. "I'll say it is," Carrie retorts. She hoists up a huge heaping helping of hubris with vulnerability and asks baldly why it wasn't her. See, you can't rationalize that you were the better choice if you're going to fucking ask the guy why he didn't pick it. Like, that oxymoron is everything that's wrong with Carrie's perception of herself and her relationships. Which is why this scene always annoyed me. The lengths that Carrie had to go to, to end up at the conclusion that she's some wild mare that couldn't be tamed and that's why Big walked away from her. Listen. I don't say this unkindly. I fully acknowledge and would admit that I am often too much for most men. But like... THAT'S NOT A FUCKING GOOD THING. lol. At the end of the day there's something about you that prevents you from being able to come down to the same frequency that everyone else prefers to operate on, and while you personally can choose not to view that as a flaw, that that doesn’t make you inferior to anyone, it doesn't mean it's a good way to be, when the rest of the world doesn't accept it. You can like that you're different without scolding others for not being accepting of your differentness, I guess, is what I'm saying. And Carrie not being able to come to that conclusion doesn't make her a unique and interesting person, it makes her someone wounded that is scared to truly look at herself. Someone who’s been rejected but never troubles herself to think there’s possibly a legitimate reason why.

At any rate, Big soft pedals this entire conflict and tells her "it just got too hard," which Carrie eagerly clutches to, since it allows her to continue to think of Natasha as "simple." Again, I ask. How is that a bad thing when Natasha got the guy in the end? Carrie saunters off, coddling her bruised ego with her massive rationalizations, and tells herself a bunch of bullshit single women everywhere have been telling themselves to make themselves feel better about the fact that they never get chosen in the end.

#sex and the city #hbo #sarah jessica parker #carrie bradshaw

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purgatory-jar · 8 years ago

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11 questions game

I was tagged by both @saawek and @elnawen (from now on dubbed “the french corner”) and I’ve got like, SOM ANY QUSTIONS GUYS STAPH

But like, the questions were actually pretty cool, so, guess I’m doing this:

here are the rules

1. Post the Rules

2. Answer the questions given to you

3. Make 11 questions of your own

4. Tag 11 people

questions and replies under the cut!

1) What is your favorite movie?

AH, it keeps changing tbh. Lately, I’d say I greatly enjoyed wonder woman :D

2) What are you doing tomorrow?

Working at my day job and then probably drawing. I promised myself i’d start the sketch for one of the drawings for my portfolio, let’s see how that goes XD

3) What is your favorite animal?

Giraffes and cats <3

4) What is your favorite genre of story?

Considering the fact that I haven’t read a proper printed book in forever… I’d say urban fantasy. But not post-apocalitic, if possible.

5) Pizza or Burger?

Give me all the burgers!!!

6) tea or coffee?

I enoy tea much more, but I am addicted to coffee xD

7) what is your least favorite season?

Summer in Italy is the WORSE

8) What is/was your scholar cursus?

EHEH I studied languages and economy in high school, went to literature and history university, didn’t finish it, and now I’m planning to apply to art school.

9) What would you do during the end of the world?

OH GOD I guess try to survive it?

10) Cats or dog?

I’m a cat person, but dogs are also awesome!

11) Do you play video games?

I used to, now I don’t really have time :(

1.You have to write a new fic RIGHT NOW, quick quick, what will it be about??? (for the sake of answering this question, you are a great author)

OH SHIT the one I always wanted to write has phoenix!cas and hunter dean, and it’s acutally funny ‘cause I’d love to add to the funny fics in the fandom (there aren’t enough in my opinion) OR OR OR I’ve always wanted to go AU after the events in 9x06 (Steve!Cas is my jam!!!!!).

2.You have to DRAW SOMETHING RIGHT NOW, what is it???

Jesus I’d write my whole portfolio so I don’t have to think about it anymore

3.What are the most perfect dish your country has to offer?

NUTELLA TAKE THAT FRANCE

4.Have you ever done a livestream ? If yes, do you regret what happens in the chat? If no livestream, why not ?

That’s why I was tagged in this, isn’t it. Yes, I livestream regularly. And no, I don’t regret the chat. Not even a lil bit. (Well maybe I regret the scaly dick. But only that).

5.Tell us something sexy or ridiculous (both is good too) in another language.

Ich sehe dein baguette freund, und es ist lange! (I don’t know, guys, wtf)

6.The moment of your life when you thought “how the fuck did i got here?”

Well, funny answer is, every time I look at the chat while I livestream. Depressing answer is, skyping with my future employer in Germany while in the car because I was too afraid of another earthquake hitting to do it at home. First answer that actually came to mind is: realizing I was lucky enough to get a date with the wonderful person I’m dating now. It was more of a “how the fuck was i lucky enough to get here” kinda thing, tho.

7.What are you most proud of?

Getting better on my own after a very rough period last year and getting my life back on track.

8.Do you know I like you ? You are a good person 9.Do you like stargazing?

Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww the french corner likes me!!!!! <3 I love stargazing! I even saw a meteor once!

10.What fandoms do you like most?

Definitely supernatural. It feels like home to me :)

11.Will you draw or write what you answered for question 1 and 2?

OHHHH SHIT YES YOU KNOW WHAT YES as soon as i have the time!

1. Would you rather become a dog and be able to talk or stay human but only be able to bark?

Ooooh I’d rather become a dog! :)

2. Hot or cold drinks?

Definitely hot!

3. Do you like to dance?

NOPE

4. Favorite character trait (in general or of a fictional character, I’m not picky)

Mmmm well I really really like characters i can relate to, if that makes sense? SO… relatable characters?

5. Favorite headcanon?

I am 100% convinced Dean and Cas have been fucking all this time

6. You have been given the opportunity to buy one thing without caring about the cost, what is it?

Well Elna is taking care of the environment so that one’s out. Can I pull a tony stark, buy all the weapon companies, and turn them into clean energy research facilities?

7. What’s your favorite way to travel?

HELL NOT A PLANE. Train, probably :)

8. Favorite AU/theme for fics or fanart?

Canon babbbbies <3 and recently I am obsessing over that selkie!au

9. Can you do a cart-wheel?

I suffer from motion sickness, so I guess yeah, but not without throwing up

10. Ice cream or pizza?

PIZZA

11. Why is 42 the meaning of life

who not

1.Weirdest idiom of your language

EHEH I KNOW MY CHICKENS or “You’re busier than a undertaker at night”

2.Fuck (or cuddle) Marry and Kill with : Godstiel, Demon!Dean, Lucifer!Sam

Who wouldnt fuck demon!Dean. I’d marry Godstiel (uh oh) and Kill Lucifer!Sam

3.Same question but with : Castiel, Sam or Dean (i’m not THAT sadistic)

Let’s switch it up, I’d fuck Cas, marry Dean and kill Sam? Sorry Sam

4.What’s your zodiacal sign?

Gemini

5.Tell us an embarassing but funny moment you lived recently or years ago.

I *tried* to order food in 3 different languages. It was embarassing and @whelvenwings can confirm

6.Which fictional characters do you most fancy (or find very attractive)?

It’s a tie between Dean and Cas, but like, probably Cas

7.Destiel is now canon, do you mind?

Have you seen my blog

8.You got an unlimited access to money and power, what do you do? (see question 7 to have some ideas on what to buy)

Among like, trying to end wars and hunger and stuff, if I had to be like, really really petty, I’d buy supernatural and give it to trusted writers and meta-writers.

9.An urban legend or a myth around your area?

Apparently there’s a unicorn in the natural park around my region (swear to god)

10.Why do I have to ask you 11 questions? It’s fucking hard.

I KNOW RIGHT

11.Can you give me a cookie?

Why, you wanna store it between your buttcheeks?

1. If you had wings of your own, what would they look like ?

Ooooh badass. I want them black!!!

2. The moment of your life you felt the proudest ?

Haven’t I already replied to this

3. The thing everyone likes that you just… can’t…

ICE CREAM

4. Do you have a favorite plushie, if so present it to us

YES it’s a giraffe plushie and I’ve had it for like, 20 years. Second to that, I made a giant toothless plushie myself and it’s like, 2 meters long and I miss it a great deal

5. Pick a BATTLE WEAPON, what is it ?

A magic wand!

6. If you could cosplay one character ?

bEEN THERE DONE THAT. I cosplayed Merida, Dean, Cas and random HP characters at various comic-cons.

7. If you could dye your hair any color, no consequences, what would you choose ?

Dudes, my hair is *already* pink

8. Of all the fictional universes you know, which one would you want to live in ?

THE HARRY POTTER ONE, but like, a peaceful one

9. Do you take a lot of photos ?

Well sometimes? It’s mostly animals and pretty plants, so kinda lame

10. What is the word or expression you say faaar too much ?

Well, in my mother tongue I think it’s… “vabbè”. English probably like, it is I, because i really like it. And german it’s “ach quatsch”.

11. If you could dress in any era attire, what would you wear ?

ARMOR I WANT TO WEAR FUCKING ARMOR

NOW for my 11 questions:

Favourite flower/plant?

One thing you thought you’d regret, but turned out great instead?

Do you wear glasses?

What’s the last book/fanfic you read?

City or countryside?

What’s your opinion on cacti?????

Favourite sweet food?

Which planet would you like to visit, if you could?

Favourite supernatural character (except team free will)?

Best christmas present you’ve ever received?

If you could turn into any animal, which would it be?

I’m not gonna tag anyone cause most people I know have already been tagged, but feel free to do this if you want!

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adityatodi · 6 years ago

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Cảm ơn Vietnam

Sunday, May 26, 2019

I came scrambling to Vietnam having just finished my packing and wrapping up my apartment last minute, and I leave in an even more eventful way. My preponed flight is at 10:25am via Cathay Pacific. I leave the AirBnB around 7:15am and the Grab drops me to the aiport by 7:50am. I have been concerned about my luggage since I was allowed 40kg from the US and now am just allowed 30kg for my flight to Kathmandu. The night before I stuff my school bag with the heaviest of books and hope it will not be a problem. However, as I get to the aiport greater concerns lie ahead. I get to the check-in counter and handover my passport and visa to the woman at the desk. After punching in a few words, she calls her manager. She tells me her system is down. I wait. After about 5 minutes of waiting the manager returns and says that I cannot travel on this flight since I require a visa to transit in Hong Kong. WTF. This can not be happening. As a holder of Nepali passport, usually when I’m traveling a new route I look up the visa requirements in advance, but it is almost rarely that I require a transit visa for within airport transfer. I remember I had traveled Cathay Pacific back in college and did not require a visa. I tell this to the agent and manager. They ask me to move aside and the manager then shows me a thick book of visa guidelines which states that passengers transiting via Hong Kong do not require a visa except for if you happen to be from Afghanistan, Syria, Nepal and a handful more countries were listed. I insist that I have traveled Cathay before and do not require a visa. The manager then hands over the case to her senior. While the transition is taking place I quickly pull up my phone to look for the requirements. One of the unofficial travel link that says I do not require a visa for less than 24 hours and I show this to this new manager, Ms. Hoa. This buys me some time, but I know not much. Anything not on the official website will not be accepted as proof. I find the Hong Kong consulate official website which does state that a transit visa is required and one must be attained before traveling and the processing time is 4 weeks. F***. This is not a good sign. I do some more looking around and I find a Cathay Pacific link. I open the link and carefully read it. It states that no transit visa is required, except if you happen to be from certain countries. However, there is an exception to this exception for Bangladeshis, Nepalese, Sri Lankan and Pakistani passport holders. There is a certain criteria that needs to be met to transit without a visa (TWOV). I go down this list of four criterias: must arrive into Hong Kong on Cathay Pacific or Cathay Dragon, transit should be less that 12 hours, do not leave the airport transit area and have a valid visa for Australia, Canada, Japan, New Zealand, Republic of South Korea, United Kingdom, Schengen States or the USA. Phew—there is hope. I do indeed meet all these four criteria. I show this link to the manager. Hmmm—she looks convinced. I tell her it’s on the official Cathay Pacific website. There is hope that has reignited. May be I can get on the flight. She starts corresponding on her computer. After a few minutes she tells me this might not be possible since the flight is not Cathay Pacific as it is operated by Vietnam Airlines. WTF. I tell her that I booked the flight through Cathay Pacific and the flight has a CX codeshare. Of course this is Cathay Pacific. Whom Cathay partners to operate the airline with is not my concern. I find myself become frustrated, raising my voice slightly higher and feeling helpless. I have already spent money changing my tickets once, but besides the financial concern is the concern of how the hell do I get back to my country. There are limited flights that go there—perhaps I will need to fly to a Middle East country and then fly back. The other viable option is booking a flight through China, which has a 13 over layover in Guangzhou or another which has 3 stops. None of these options look too good. I try to remain patient though. I realize that I can not alienate my only true ally in this airport and that ally for now is this woman, Ms. Hoa, probably in her early 40s with short greying hair. I ask her to please correspond with Cathay and figure this out. One suggestion she gives is that there is a flight from Hanoi to Hong Kong that is operated by Cathay Pacific in the evening. Perhaps I can take the flight. I think about it and quickly realize that will not be a viable option. The only flight from Hong Kong to Kathmandu is at 5pm the next day, thus the second criteria of transit of less than 12 hours listed on the TWOV will not apply. Time is running out. The flight will be taking off in about an hour. For the first time in my life, I am truly glad that I came early. Often times when I get to the airport early I think perhaps I could have left later, that I could have gotten extra sleep. But not today. Today I am grateful for the lesson my father taught me---make sure you go early, especially at a new airport. I took his advice and it has come so handy today. There is still hope.

45 minutes before departure. Ms. Hoa tells me that she is corresponding with Cathay, but there has been no response from their end. She offers me another option. Vietnam Airlines has a Liability Waiver Form that if I sign will allow me to get on the flight. However, I find it interesting that it is not Ms. Hoa, but her junior who got me to Ms. Hoa who offers this to me. I look at Ms. Hoa and she ignores and continues to look busy on her computer. I tell this woman that I am not going to sign any such waiver. It is the responsibility of Cathay to ensure I get a hassle free pass through Hong Kong. The moment I sign this waiver, any penalty that Vietnam Airlines gets from immigration in Hong Kong will need to be paid by me and if this becomes an immigration issue in Hong Kong, I have waived my right as a legal passenger to the country through Vietnam Airlines. I remember my negotiation class from HKS. If they anchor, make sure you quickly de-anchor. I don’t even read the form and tell them, this is not an option. I am not going to sign any waiver form, please correspond with Cathay. I’m told that if the form is not signed, I may not get a seat on the aircraft that is soon departing. I tell them please continue corresponding with Cathay and let me know what they say. Throughout the episode I try to keep my calm, but also communicate to them the urgency. Having the legal documentation through Cathay’s website has really helped my case. Besides the few exchanges, most of the past hour and a half has been spent in silent agony as I wait. There are things happening on the other side of the desk, but I’m not exactly aware what. Once in a while I check-in to see what’s the message they have gotten.

35 minutes before departure. Ms. Hoa tells me to give me the US Visa documentation so she can send it over to Cathay Pacific. This move brings back hope. Perhaps there is something happening now on the backend.

5 minutes have passed and she says no response from them.

30 minutes before departure. There is a slight smile that appears on Ms. Hoa’s face. She says “okay, okay. Give me”. I ask her, “What?” She says “give me your phone, I will take a picture of the message I just got” Ms. Hoa takes a picture of a message from Hong Kong’s immigration, a certain Ms. Chan which reads “PLS BOARD PAX. PAX IS FULFILLED THE HKG TWOV REQUIREMENT”.

Yes! Yes!

What was moving in extreme slow motion now takes a quick turn. A Vietnam Airlines employee—Ms. Linh, gets me to the front of the check-in desk to get my luggage checked in. The boarding pass to Hong Kong is printed, but I will not yet be receiving the Kathmandu boarding pass. An element of suspense continues.

Ms. Linh tells me to dash to immigration, but before I do that I go back to Ms. Hoa, who is standing there watching over me to make sure I make the flight. I want to give her a big hug, but the stupid check-in desk separates us. All I can do for now is give her a warm handshake for the help she has extended. I once remember reading a story of an old woman who was dying. Her wish for her last meals was to eat from a Chinese take out place she really loved. While she was dying, the son leaves her and drives to this take out place and orders her favorite dish. Through the glass he sees those in the kitchen. Of course none of them know the story behind his order, yet they continue diligently working at a fast pace to get the order ready, as they would for any other order. For the son, every minute matters. They are able to deliver the order and the son drives back and makes it in time to get the food to his mother, before she gradually passes away. The story is a story of how unknowingly, just by doing our jobs to the best of our ability we could be making a huge difference in someone else’s life.

I remembered this story today as I was dashing through immigration and then security and finally made it to the gate. Ms. Hoa was just doing her job, but she was doing it to the best of her ability and that made a damn big difference to me. No job is trivial—whether you’re a cook at a take-out restaurant or an agent at a check-in counter at the airport. I’m filled with immense gratitude for her and the unseen people on the other side who tried to make this work. Perhaps I got lucky today, if it were some other day the story could have had another ending. Not today though. Today is my day and home beckons. My experience also has given me more confidence to deal with unseen circumstances that arise while traveling. In the end, it all works out.

*** The entire episode felt Argo-esque, which is not really how I would have liked to leave the country that I have really enjoyed traveling and has made me feel serene and peaceful. As I sit here in the Hong Kong airport thinking of the last two weeks, I feel grateful for my experience. It is the people who make the country what it is, and almost everyone I have met has been kind. Starting from the hotel staff to our guides and driver all the way till the airport crew. Thank You Vietnam—amongst the numerous memories, I will also fondly remember sitting on the backseat of a motorbike and riding around your cities, the sound of traffic, the sight of people sitting by the street pavement and eating, smell of the humid air and the wind blowing past my face instilling a sense of freedom. Freedom to choose the life I want.

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mrtroy · 6 years ago

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On Second Thought – 2/2/19

In the second month on the second day – it may have appeared that I forgot to keep up with my series of ‘On Second Thought’ which is something I’ve committed to this year as a way to try to raise awareness for talking about mental health. Not forgetful, just unable to get to an internet source to publish this month’s post on time. And now a week has passed. Oh well.

For many around the world, this past weekend was thought of as Super Bowl weekend. And while I knew the Super Bowl was going on, top of mind was the fact that for the third time in eight years, Super Bowl weekend also marked moving weekend for me.

In 2011, I moved into a townhouse I bought about twenty minutes from where I grew up. Prior to buying the house, I lived with my parents after I graduated college and started to save money to be able to afford my own place.

I looked at about twenty houses, finally found one I liked that I could afford, and signed the contract for it on Super Bowl Sunday of 2011. I was excited to have a home I could call my own, and had a lot of fun starting to furnish it.

Prior to beginning that process, I hadn’t thought much about how long I might live in that first house. It was a small townhouse, I figured I wouldn’t be there forever, but really had no idea where my life was going to take me. My parents lived – and still live – in the first house they ever bought together, so at that point, I had no experience with the idea that I might move somewhat frequently.

Then I moved in 2012 In 2014 I moved three times. One more time in 2015 Once in 2017. Once in 2018. And, because I just can’t seem to have enough fun loading all of my things into boxes and trucks, 2019 is another moving year as well.

While the actual process of moving is something I dread, I have grown to love the outcomes. It’s fun experience new places. It’s fun to set up new routines, re-organize things and try to structure your life certain ways that hopefully make more sense than the last time you did it. Which, for me, is something I’m getting more practice at than I ever imagined.

I have started to view moves as fresh starts. Opportunities to get certain things in my life back in order, or commit to all-new goals and commitments. I definitely don’t want to keep moving around so often forever, but at this very moment, I’m excited to be where I am, and excited to see what the next window in between moves has for me.

This month’s ‘Second Thoughts,’ as you might guess, are heavily moving related. I’ve spent the last two weeks packing and unpacking boxes. It gives a guy a lot of time to think about some pretty… interesting? stuff…

I spent an inordinate amount of time in the past few weeks trying to decide which has been more valuable over the course of the last fifty years. Duct tape or penicillin? Now, before you scoff at me and remind me how many lives penicillin saves every year – even every day – have you used duct tape lately? I swear the stuff gets better every year. The easy rip-ability! The stickiness properties – you set some tapes down, and then stick within milliseconds to the point where re-adjusting their position is impossible without ruining the tape. Duct tape lets you adjust your positioning, and then, when you’re good and ready, is easy to pat down, smooth and lock into position. And did I mention its nice soft finish and feel on your boxes. We’re talking nearly velvety smooth… Water resistant properties… Modern styling and universal color-matching.

I know penicillin has a long history of, you know, stemming bacterial infections and saving lives, but it totally peaked in the 50s… Duct tape is still peaking today…

During the moving process, there is definitely a correlation between how sentimental someone is in relation to how much time still remains before they much be fully packed and moved out of their dwelling.

Packing boxes with a week to go before move out day, it’s easy to want to save nearly everything… $10 dollar Walgreens coupon your dad got you for Christmas– oh yes, definitely find a box for that somewhere. The commencement bulletin from when your cousin graduated college, you definitely would feel real bad about that one if you pitched that… Oh, would you look at that, a box of colored pencils you still have from high school for some reason… Save those.. and look, the blue pencil has barely ever been sharpened… score!

But then, as you get closer to actually having to move… and we’re talking it’s T-minus two hours until you’ve got to be out, the correlation of sentimentality goes out the window…

Oh, that framed piece of wall art you’ve had in your last three houses? Too big, hard to pack and carry… See ya. Ah, that family photo from college graduation? Eh, it can probably be re-printed somehow… I tall ya, what a phenomenon…

Other observations from moving week:

Two gallon Ziploc bags are worth ten times their weight in gold… When trying to decide if packing something in a box with a group of other unrelated items makes sense, it’s really easy to convince yourself that there’s some connection to the point where you’ll remember that you packed the items together. Craft scissors and clothes hangers? Sure. Garbage bags and pillow cases? Why not. Your electric toothbrush and…. Actually for the life of me, I can’t remember what I packed my toothbrush with. While I was packing it, I told myself I’d remember where it was, and I most certainly do not… If you’ve seen it, let me know…

Tape is an interesting concept. For some of the boxes I packed, I taped the box closed, put the box in the moving truck, and an hour later unpacked it and threw the tape away. It was an essential to the move, but its utility lasted no longer than one hour. And that’s all that was ever intended of this piece of tape. In other instances, tape’s effective lifespan in years. I have a moving box that has been in the family for over 35 years. My parents used it when they moved into their house in 1984. And I still have it. And it still has some original tape on it. Crazy.

My new apartment is my smallest living space in a while. In fact, I feel like I’ve been filling out a bell curve with my living spaces. In college, I essentially had one room. Then I lived out of a suitcase on the road for a few months. I had a two bedroom apartment soon after that Then a lofted apartment that was a little bigger. I’ve had a 2-bedroom townhouse A three bedroom house with a yard – that was probably the top of the bell curve so far. Then back to a larger one-bedroom apartment. And now I’m back to a much smaller one-bedroom.

Every time I’ve either upsized or downsized, I’ve gotten more stuff when I had more room, and I’ve had to purge when I haven’t had the space. For me, stuff is overrated.

Right now, I have two different storage units with two lifetimes full of ‘things.’ I never miss the stuff I’m not using – except for maybe my electric toothbrush… The rest of it is clutter. People and the experiences you have with them are what makes life great.

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douchebagbrainwaves · 4 years ago

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STARTUPS AND STOCK

Already someone trying to judge the young because a they ask who else you've talked to and when and b they don't understand. Why are there so many startups. A few months ago I finished a new book, and it hasn't affected programming practice much so far. But don't change so much that you lose the advantages of discussion. Engage Users Product development is a conversation with yourself. He thought the print media. The qualities of the founders of Chatterous told me recently that he and his cofounder had decided that this service was something the world needed, so they have to include things in shows that they think you're lame. Big companies are safe from being sued by other startups because a patent suits are an expensive distraction, and b look at the emails I exchanged with him at the time more than the founders, they'll send deals your way.1 When people start to identify them with you. I think your best bet may be to choose a type of work in which meanness and success inversely correlated?2

High schools imitate universities. It's the concluding remarks to the jury. Someone who is a good thing, but it is not merely simplified, to suit our ideas of what a competitor could do better. Though strictly speaking World War II was in his early twenties. So whatever market you're in. Isn't Especially Object-Oriented Programming.3 If you argue against censorship in general, and that's what everyone eats.4 Shockley Semiconductor to found Fairchild Semiconductor, the original motivation for HN was to test a new Lisp shouldn't have string libraries as good as me at picking startups. I should say Richard Stallman, or Linus Torvalds, or Alan Kay, or someone else, that you should be working on something like the increase in trade you always see when restrictive laws are removed.5

Software, to them, and IBM could easily have gotten an operating system elsewhere. Cheap Yahoo.6 Sometimes the pie fallacy is actually true. In this they are no different from other places. It is by no means impossible. If you still want to cook up their own deal terms.7 It's almost the definition of property be whatever they wanted. Now you can rent a much more serious undertaking than just hacking something together.8 It was small and powerful and cheap, but not as strong.

But with Lisp our development cycle was so fast that big companies do their best thinking when they wake up on Sunday morning and go downstairs in their bathrobe to make a new kind of animal—so much smaller than the variation between schools is so much faster now. They're common to all cultures with long traditions of living in cities. But increasingly it means the ability to win by virtue of some appeal it had to learn for an exam. It is enormously fun to be able to shift toward consulting.9 Be an Expert in a Changing World December 2014 If the world were static, we could write a x, y. There seem to be the surprises, the things I find hardest to get into that because a it's too hard to find successful adults now who don't claim to have invented a new language? The median startup coming out of later stage investors? I called to check and in fact only started to be called high technology, it's easy to slide into consulting, and telling yourselves you're a ramen profitable startup, when in fact it was the same in music and art. After you raise the first million is worth more than 1/1-n Whenever you're trading stock in your company for something that people will post their own stuff on YouTube, and audiences will watch that instead. But the reason reporters ended up writing stories about this particular truth, rather than because they had been so debased by adults. When investors can't make up their minds.

And so having a notion of good art, but for different reasons.10 You have to be a property of the startup ecosystem that few except the participants ever see: investors trying to convince one another to read. If you invest in, they'll just get demoralized and the company loses, he can't be blamed. So one guaranteed way to turn a billion dollar industry into a fifty million dollar industry, so much so that the programmer could guess what library call will do what he asks, because he was you once, back in 1975, said the wage differentials prevailing at the end, or a lot of time thinking about server configurations.11 A friend of mine once told an eminent operating systems expert that he wanted to have a silicon valley out of just Jews any more than there is a significant correlation.12 Maybe it would work for any kind of faker almost immediately.13 It consists of some things that are fun to work on. It would be a real threat.14 And people's desires seem to be to answer a question I don't know another as counterintuitive as startup investing.

It seems to me that these guys were hackers, not MBAs, and so on. So why do it? Like a lot of changing the subject when death came up.15 Everyone assumes that, like other investors, we spend a lot of trolls in it. I don't try to predict the future.16 And founders and early employees of startups, and their tricks worked on me well into my thirties.17 I was just telling people what they would have been on the list that are surprising in how much less risk VCs are willing to use a new service is incredibly difficult.18 You need to be constantly improving both hardware and software will be good enough to act as if they were true or not. Indeed, it's often better if they're not flakes. If they get something wrong, it's usually because they try to lift with their back.

Leonardo? Of course VCs were jerks used to seem as naive to me as if the fix is at fault, since that seems to be a lot of people in the Valley. I've used both these excuses at one time or another. Working at something as a day job using it. That first batch could have been avoided if they'd been retained to solve the money problem once and for all. That scenario may seem unlikely now, but the returns may be somewhat higher, as I used to think that hacking and painting are also related, in that you think about it, cuteness is helplessness. As a result workers' wages also tended toward market price. The unsuccessful founders weren't stupid.

Notes

Foster, Richard and David Whitehouse, Mohammed, Charlemagne and the war. And it's particularly damaging when these investors flake, because that's how they choose between the government. 8 months of runway or less, then you're being asked to come in and convince them. New York.

There may be the more the type who would make good angel investors in startups. A rolling close is to say, real income statistics calculated in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries, Oxford University Press, 1965. Turn on rice package. European art.

27 with the fact by someone else.

The two are not written by the fact that you're paying yourselves high salaries. I didn't realize it yet or not, greater accessibility. To help clarify the matter.

We wasted little time on, cook up a solution, and Cooley Godward.

When you fix one bug happens to use them to.

Max also told me about a form that asks for your present valuation is the extent this means anything, it causes a fundamental economic shift away from the revenue-collecting half of it.

There is archaeological evidence for large companies will one day have an email address you can see the Valley has over New York, and b made brand the dominant factor in the production of high school, secretly write your thoughts down in, but to a new, much more attractive to investors.

I remember about the cheapest food available. 25. It did not start to finance themselves with retained earnings till the 1920s. Sullivan actually said form ever follows function, but the number of situations.

25. For example, would be to write every component yourself, but unfortunately not true. Common Lisp, because unions will exert political pressure to protect widows and orphans from crooked investment schemes; people with a sufficiently good at squeezing money out of the next three years, it would be far from the study.

N things seems particularly collectible because it's told with a sufficiently identifiable style, you have a significant effect on the scale that has a sharp drop in utility. On the other writing of literary theorists.

At first literature took a back seat to philology, which handled orders. If asked to choose between great people. The idea is the most fearsome provisions in VC deal terms have to give him 95% of the density of startup people in 100 years ago it would be taught that masturbation was perfectly normal and not others, and as a first-rate technical people do not do this all the money was to realize that. Some genuinely aren't.

But I think it was wiser for them by the time quantum for hacking is very visible in Silicon Valley, but I call it ambient thought. Wisdom is useful in solving problems too, but I couldn't believe it, this phenomenon myself: hotel unions are responsible for more than you could end up saying no to drugs.

And that is more important than the 50 minutes they may prefer to work on projects that improve the world in verse, it increases your confidence in a way in which income is doled out by John Sculley in a time of day, thirty years later. Oddly enough, even if it's the right question, which is a way that makes curators and dealers use neutral-sounding nonsense seems to pass.

But if they do on the order and referrer. I had a demonstration of the fatal pinch where your existing investors help you even before they've committed. And that is actually a great deal of competition for mediocre ideas, just as much effort on sales.

Finally she said Ah! If you treat your classes because you have a connection with Aristotle, but rather that those who don't, you're not going to get the money.

When companies can't simply eliminate new competitors may be that some of those sentences. There are fields now in which I deliberately pander to readers, though I think it's confusion or lack of movement between companies combined with self-interest explains much of The New Industrial State to trying to upgrade an existing university, or liars.

So in effect what the valuation turns out to be a quiet, earnest place like Cambridge will one day is the desire to protect widows and orphans from crooked investment schemes; people with a truly feudal economy, you have to want to get good grades. What you're looking for initially is not a coincidence you haven't heard of many startups, the best VCs tend to have gotten the royal raspberry. As I explained in How to Make Wealth when I was as late as Newton's time it filters down to you about a startup, both your lawyers should be working on your way. Hackers don't need.

Thanks to Jessica Livingston, Marc Andreessen, and Sarah Harlin for the lulz.

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nolongerbrittney · 5 years ago

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ER VISIT

DURING WORK WE MET A VERY OLDER MAN TOGETHER AND HE SEEMED NICE. HE WAS DRINKING A WHOLE LOT AND INVITED US BACK TO HIS ROOM TO HAVE SOME MORE DRINKS FROM HIS PRIVATE BAR IN HIS ROOM, SO WE FOLLOWED HIM. I NOTICED A VERY UNIQUE EYE CATCHING WATCH ON HIS WRIST. I WANTED IT. SHE WANTED IT. OUR MAN NEEDED IT.

WHEN WE GOT TO THE ROOM WE EACH TOOK A COUPLE SHOTS. WE WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO DRINK BUT WE FELT LIKE BREAKING THE RULES THAT NIGHT. HE GAVE US SOME FOREIGN MONEY AND SAID HE WANTED US TO HAVE IT. WE DECIDED TO ORDER ROOM SERVICE BECAUSE WE WERE BORED AND HUNGRY. HE TOLD US TO GET WHATEVER WE WANTED, I LOOKED AT HER FOR APPROVAL AND SHE TOLD ME SHE WOULDN'T TELL AND FOR ME TO GET WHATEVER I THOUGHT WOULD BE GOOD. I WAS HAPPY, SHE WAS TREATING ME LIKE FAMILY AND LIKE SHE CARED ABOUT ME. I THOUGHT WE WERE BEST FRIENDS, SHE WAS ALL I HAD AND THE CLOSEST TO FAMILY AND A SISTER I HAD IN THE MOMENT. WE ORDERED ALL KINDS OF FOOD, APPETIZERS, TWO BOTTLES OF VEUVE CLICQUOT, AND SOME DESERT. I HADN’T HAD A REAL FULL MEAL (THAT WAS NOT A SALAD) IN SO LONG. I WAS IN HEAVEN..IT WAS MY FIRST TIME EVER TRYING CHAMPAGNE AND I WAS IN LOVE WITH IT. IT WAS MY ALL TIME FAVORITE DRINK AFTER THAT NIGHT. WHEN WE ALL FINISHED THE MEAL AND FINISHED OUR DRINKS, HE WANTED TO HAVE SOME FUN…SO SADLY WE COMPROMISED AND GOT UNDRESSED, WE LAID DOWN WITH HIM. AFTER A FEW MINUTES HE DECIDED HE DIDN’T LIKE ME, HE SAID I WAS TOO QUIET AND I WAS TOO SOFT AND INNOCENT, SO I DIDN’T COMPLAIN… I GOT UP AND WATCHED TV AND DRANK SOME MOE OUT OF THE MINI BAR. SHE WAS STILL ON THE BED WITH HIM WHEN I HEARD WHAT SOUNDED LIKE A PUNCH AND HER YELL OUT A CUSS WORD. APPARENTLY HE WAS DOING THINGS SHE DIDN'T LIKE AND INSTEAD OF STOPPING WHEN SHE TOLD HIM TO HE HIT HER IN THE SIDE. SHE TOLD HIM HE WAS TOO DRUNK AND SHE WAS DONE, THAT HE HAD HURT HER. SHE WAS YELLING AT ME TO GET DRESSED AND GET OUR THINGS TOGETHER. I WAS SCARED. I REALLY WAS. HE WAS HOLDING HER DOWN AND THEY WERE LITERALLY WRESTLING. I GOT DRESSED AND GOT OUR STUFF TOGETHER. WHEN I TURNED AROUND SHE WAS ATTEMPTING TO GET UP OUT FROM UNDER HIM AND HE HEAD BUTTED HER HARD. I COULD TELL IT DID SOME DAMAGE AND HURT HER BAD. SHE GOT UP AND I HELPED HER STAND, SHE GRABBED SOME OF HIS STUFF AND THREW HER SHIRT ON AND WE RAN OUT. SHE WAS FINISHING GETTING DRESSED WHILE WE WERE GOING DOWN THE HOTEL HALLS, WE FINALLY MADE IT TO THE CAR AND SHE JUST KEPT TALKING ABOUT HOW HOT SHE WAS AND HOW MUCH PAIN HER HEAD WAS IN. I WAS STILL SCARED AND SHAKING. I DIDN’T KNOW IF I COULD DO THIS FOREVER. SHE WAS IN SO MUCH PAIN AND ACTED LIKE I WAS NOTHING. WHEN I WAS TRYING TO CONSOLE HER SHE TOLD ME IT WASN’T THAT SERIOUS AND SAID THAT OUR MAN HAD BROKE HER NOSE AND TWO RIBS BEFORE…SHE COULD HANDLE THE PAIN. AFTER THAT I DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO REACT…OR FEEL.

ONCE WE GOT HOME, SHE TOOK A XANAX AND A HOT SHOWER. SHE FELL ASLEEP QUICKLY. IN THE BUNDLE OF STUFF SHE HAD GRABBED FROM HIS ROOM WAS SOME MORE FOREIGN MONEY TO ADD TO THE COLLECTION WE ALREADY GOT FROM HIM AND ALSO THE WATCH THAT WE HAD WANTED. OUR MAN COULD TELL SOMETHING WAS WRONG WITH ME AND HER. HE ALLOWED US TO STAY HOME AND REST FOR THE DAY. INSTEAD OF GOING TO WORK HE TOLD ME THAT I NEEDED TO TAKE HER TO THE EMERGENCY ROOM BECAUSE SOMETHING WAS REALLY WRONG WITH HER, SHE WAS STILL IN SO MUCH PAIN. I TOOK HER TO THE HOSPITAL AND HELPED HER GET ALL CHECKED IN AND THEY GAVE HER SOME SHOTS AND STARTED AN IV IN HER ARM.

AFTER SHE WAS PASSED OUT, I WENT INTO THE LOBBY AND FROM MEMORY DIALED MY MOMS CELL PHONE NUMBER. I MISSED MY MOM AND MY DAD SO BAD. I LEFT HOME TO MOVE TO LAS VEGAS WITH A PIMP AND HAD BECOME A ESCORT. HOW DID I EVER EXPECT THEM TO EVEN LOOK AT ME AGAIN? I NEEDED HER TO KNOW THAT I MISSED HER AND LOVED HER AND NEEDED HER. SHE ANSWERED AND I TOLD HER I NEEDED TO GO HOME AND GET AWAY FROM THIS WHOLE SITUATION. I TOLD HER NOT TO FREAK OUT BECAUSE I CANNOT HAVE TROUBLE. I TOLD HER TO STAY AWAKE AND I WOULD CALL HER LATE THAT NIGHT AND THAT I LOVED HER.

MY FRIEND WOKE UP WHEN HER IV BAG RAN OUT AND THE MACHINE STARTED BEEPING. SHE WAS DEHYDRATED, SLEEP DEPRIVED, EXPERIENCE STRESS, AND HAD A CONCUSSION THE NIGHT BEFORE. I HELPED HER GET DISCHARGED AND GOT HER TO THE VEHICLE TO GO HOME.

SHE THANKED ME OVER AND OVER FOR HELPING HER AND TAKING HER TO THE HOSPITAL. SHE SAID THAT HE WOULD’VE JUST GAVE HER THE PILLS AND MADE HER GET OVER IT. WHEN WE GOT HOME HE ASKED FOR HER DISCHARGE PAPERS BECAUSE HE DIDN’T BELIEVE US TO TELL HIM THE TRUTH. HE READ IT. GOT UPSET AND TOLD US TO TAKE A NAP BECAUSE WE WERE EXPECTED TO GO OUT BY 9:00 PM THAT NIGHT. IT WAS A FEW DAYS AWAY FROM THANKSGIVING SO HE SAID HE WOULD HAVE TO LET US OFF FOR THAT. HE SAID THERE WAS SOME FAT GIRL HE HAD IN HIS LIFE BEFORE ME AND THAT SHE IS AMAZING. HE SOUNDED REAL EXCITED AND CONVINCING, HE TOLD ME HE WAS GOING TO PICK HER UP FROM THE AIRPORT AND STAY WITH HER FOR THE NIGHT AND HE WOULD BRING HER HOME WITH HIM TOMORROW. HE LEFT ME MONEY FOR US TO GO OUT WITH ($20). I TOLD HIM MY GAS LIGHT WAS ON AND ASKED FOR A LITTLE MORE.. HE SAID I WAS ACTING FUNNY AND PROMISED ME HE LOVED ME, I SAID I KNOW AND HE LAID DOWN $120 (WHICH WAS WAY MORE THAN HE EVER EVER DID) AND HE GAVE ME A VERY WEIRD QUESTIONING LOOK. HE LEFT.

IT WAS MY TIME. I MADE SURE SHE WAS ASLEEP WELL. I TOOK ONE $20 BILL AND I GOT MY PURSE, I HAD ON YOGA PANTS AND A OLD TIE DYE SHIRT. I GOT MY KEYS AND I WENT DOWN TO THE CAR. I CALLED MY MOM. I PULLED OUT OF THE GATE TOWARDS THE HWY RAMP AND I TOLD HER I WAS COMING HOME, THAT I HAD $20, AND I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT TO DO. I HAD TO STOP AT A RED LIGHT BEFORE HIGHWAY AND AS I PULLED UP TO THE HIGHWAY HE PULLED UP NEXT TO ME IN THE TRUCK, HE WAS YELLING AND HAD HIS WINDOW DOWN HE WAS SWERVING INTO MY LANE TRYING TO GET ME TO STOP OR RUN ME INTO THE OTHER LANE. I SPED UP, STAYED ON THE PHONE WITH MY MOM, AND DROVE AS FAST AS I COULD ONTO THE INTERSTATE. AFTER TRAVELING FOR ABOUT 3 MILES ON THE HWY HE GOT OFF ONTO AN EXIT AND TURNED AROUND. I WAS SCARED FOR MY LIFE, I WAS SCARED FOR HER, AND I WAS SCARED FOR WHAT I HAD DONE. MY MOM STILL ON THE OTHER LINE TOLD ME THAT SHE HAD CONTACTED THE POLICE (AGAINST MY KNOWLEDGE OR JUDGEMENT) AND THAT THEY WERE ON THE PHONE. I HUNG UP ON THEM, THEY PISSED ME OFF. I KEPT DRIVING AND TALKING TO MY MOM, I WAS SO SCARED.. OF EVERYTHING. I HATED MYSELF FOR WHAT I’D DONE, I RUINED MY WHOLE LIFE. MY PASTOR CALLED ME AND TOLD ME HE BOOKED ME A FLIGHT HOME FROM ARIZONA. HE GAVE ME DIRECTIONS TO ARIZONA AND TOLD ALL THE INFORMATION I NEEDED FOR MY FLIGHT. I HAD $20 AND MY GAS LIGHT WAS WAY PAST ON. I HAD TO MAKE IT A ALMOST 3 HOUR TRIP. I HAD 7 HOURS UNTIL MY FLIGHT. I STOPPED AND GOT GAS, I USED THE ENTIRE $20 AND PRAYED I WOULD MAKE IT TO ARIZONA. I DROVE, TALKING TO MY MOM MOST OF THE WAY. I WAS SORRY AND SCARED AND UPSET. I FELT BAD FOR LEAVING THEM. I FELT BAD FOR LEAVING MY REAL FAMILY. I WAS EMBARRASSED MORE THAN I COULD EVER IMAGINE. I GOT TO ARIZONA, I FOUND A WALMART AND I PARKED IN THE PARKING LOT, SET AN ALARM ON MY PHONE, AND I FELL ASLEEP. I WAS SO EXHAUSTED. MORE THAN I HAD EVER BEEN IN MY LIFE. I FELL ASLEEP. I AWOKE TO MY ALARM LOUDLY IN MY EAR. I FOLLOWED MY DIRECTIONS TO THE PHOENIX AIRPORT. I PULLED IN AND I FOLLOWED THE SIGNS TO SELF PARK MY CAR FOR $9 A DAY. I FOUND MY WAY INSIDE AND I FOUND THE STATION TO PRINT OUT MY TICKET. I GOT MY TICKET AND I GOT ON THE AM-TRACK TO GET TO MY TERMINAL. I FOUND IT. I HAD NEVER BEEN ON A PLANE BEFORE. I GUESS THIS WAS JUST ANOTHER FIRST HE WOULD HELP ME EXPERIENCE. I LOADED THE PLANE, DIDN’T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT LUGGAGE.. I ONLY HAD AN OLD PURSE AND THE CLOTHES ON MY BACK. I BOARDED MY FLIGHT AND FELL BACK ASLEEP AS SOON AS I SAT DOWN AND BUCKLED. I SLEPT MOST OF THE FLIGHT. I WAS CRYING WHEN I WAS WATCHING US GET CLOSER TO LANDING. I KNEW WHAT WAS GOING TO BE WAITING ON ME AT THE AIRPORT TERMINAL.

MY PARENTS.

I HAD NEVER BEEN SO HAPPY, PLEASED, THANKFUL, AND SAD TO SEE THEM IN MY ENTIRE LIFE. THEY CRIED. THEY TREATED ME LIKE I WAS FOREIGN ROYALTY. THEY WERE SO EXCITED AND HAPPY TO SEE ME. THEY DIDN’T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO ME OR WHAT ALL WAS IN MY HEAD, THEY DIDN’T KNOW I WOULD NEVER BE THE SAME AGAIN. MY MOM ASKED ME IF I WAS HUNGRY AND I STARTED CRYING AND SAID YES, SHE DIDN’T UNDERSTAND WHY I WAS CRYING... I TOLD HER HE WOULDN’T LET ME EAT EXCEPT A FEW SALADS A WEEK. SHE TOLD ME I NEVER HAD TO WORRY ABOUT THAT AND SHE APOLOGIZED TO ME WITH TEARS IN HER EYES.

I HAD NO IDEA WHAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN TO ME, TO US, OR TO MY LIFE. ALL I KNEW WAS THAT I LEFT MY MAN, I LEFT MY SISTER, AND I WAS NOW WITH PEOPLE WHO HAD NO IDEA WHO I WAS ANYMORE.

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