#like i would be willing to bet there's some body discrimination in some places

[britneyshakespeare]

genuinely also curious from other ppl who have drawn from live models. whenever i talk about this experience ppl ask me if the models were all attractive and young and in-shape. in my figure drawing class only two of the regular models could somewhat fit that description. most of them were middle-aged or older people of ordinary (but diverse) proportions. like my experience may not be representative but i find it curious that ppl hear about modelling for a drawing class and wonder if that's like a hot 20-something job. it doesn't seem to be lol

[flowerwrites06]

utopic desire I — jjk

Plot: Under an elist system of Vampires, Jungkook is torn between his old values and the lowest ranked Vampire he begins to fall for.

Pairing(s): Vampire!Jungkook x Vampire!OC

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Series

Genre: Supernatural/Vampires | Angst/Fluff/Smut

Tags & Warnings: discrimination, explicit smut, angst, coarse language.

Authors Note: this is a repost after my break since I’m not really going to convert this one to original fiction. So enjoy to those who missed it! I’m doing it in parts cause posting big posts on Tumblr sucks. 

“Glasses, five o’clock.” Yoongi muttered mostly under his breath but enough for the group to hear before taking a small sip of his reddened whiskey.

Belle felt a light rumble in her belly at his words, turning her head a little to see the male sitting quietly at the bar counter. Blue sweater with some light wash jeans, thin rimmed glasses and slightly long messy locks hovering over his temples. The tiny pout on his bottom lip only added to what an adorable specimen he was. “Jeon?” She smirked.

Yoongi shrugged mimicking the little curl on her lips as his eyes flickered to the side to get another look of him. “Hangs around with the pure bloods a lot. Must be a favourite source.”

Jungkook was the quietest whenever Belle noticed him in the pure blood crowds and with the way he held himself, it didn’t seem like he was much of a power in the group. One of the vampires who she knew was called Vira always clung to him which she could only assume meant he must have been her human.

“Could be fun annoying the shit out of Vira.” Belle mused.

“Or dangerous.” Jimin spoke up, finger tracing the brim of his glass with the drink barely sipped on. “Pure bloods don’t like us meddling.”

“They don’t like it when I meddle.” She corrected.

Pure bloods had no issue with other pure blood vampires. Even Taehyung, they tolerated despite their dated views on humans. With her though, a spawn of an original vampire and a human was downright blasphemy in their eyes. Belle still wondered to this day why Jimin, Yoongi or even Kiku thought about including her into their group, tainting their name in the academy.

Yoongi nudged Jimin’s arm harshly. “For a Park, you’re a real buzzkill, you know that?”

Jimin rolled his eyes in response, raking through his blue hair before murmuring a small apology towards Belle.

“Do we have a deal or not?”

“What’re you willing to give me when I get him?” Belle leaned in, elbows rested on the surface.

A smirk plastered across the man’s lips. “If you get him to sleep with you, I’ll give you my Lamborghini.”

Belle scoffed. “Which one?”

“The Centenario.”

“Nah—I want the Veneno.”

“If you were less hot maybe but everyone wants you so…the Centenario.”

“Oh come on—”

“If it helps I’m pretty sure Yoongi came on one of the Veneno seats one time.” Kiku spoke gesturing a toothpick towards Yoongi who stammered a little.

Belle grimaced lightly. “Fine, the Centenario.”

“That’s only cause someone decided for the first time they weren’t going to swallow.”

“You literally begged me to let you come all over my face.” Kiku parted her lips in slight offense while Yoongi shifted in his seat.

“Okay now I’m really going to go.” Belle chuckled climbing off the stool and fixing her deep red, ruche dress fitted to her curves before walking to the bar counter.

Jungkook still had his eyes fixated on his drink taking one sip almost every hour while he was somehow deep in thought. Though as he noticed a figure walking his way, his head shot meeting two beetle orbs with shining ruby flecks scattered across. It glimmered in the night light resembling a dark faery of some sort though he knew she was no faery.

“Do you always sit around alone in the college bars?” Belle asked sitting down on the stool next to him, ignoring how her dress rode up her thighs when she did.

Gaze flickered down to the heavily exposed skin, body exuding a thick, warm scent flooding his nostrils and filling his lungs. Jungkook felt his head spin from the sweetness but found himself taking more in anyway. “I don’t like a whole lot of company.” He mumbled.

“Do I count as a whole lot of company?”

“Not really.”

Belle smiled, that tiny spark of accomplishment lingering in the pit of her belly but she knew not to get too excited. “I don’t like much company either.”

“You seem to have a few friends.”

“And I love them.” She nodded. “But I also love...more intimate company.”

Jungkook’s lips twitched briefly as he gripped onto the glass a little tightly. He watched her move forward with her arms folded under her chest, making them pop beautifully in the dim lighting. “What kind of intimate company?”

“Just two people. Me and them. Taking a walk, going to eat, having sex…” Belle let a small moment of silence linger between the two people before shrugging. “Intimate moments where it’s only between the two of you.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but feel a little tingle. How it was easy to just fall into her careful words and drown in her whole aura. “Do you get to do it a lot?”

The corner of her lips curled up a little. “I haven’t for a while.”

“That’s not good.” The scent grew thicker around him again and Jungkook sought it as a good sign enough to shift closer. A layer of ice melting between them with a new brewing heat.

She hummed sadly.

“How much did he bet?”

Belle peered up at him curiously, tilting her head. It didn’t really matter whether Jungkook knew it was a bet or not at this point. She already had him close enough. “A Lamborghini Centenario.” She smiled.

Jungkook raised a brow tempted to glance over at her group but he stopped himself. Not that it was too difficult when he started unintentionally counting the little ruby flecks in her eyes. “High price for little old me.” His voice descended into a darker register as he leaned closer, feeling a strange heat radiate from her skin. “You sure you want to take it?”

“Depends…how little are you?” Belle’s eyes flickered down his body momentarily.

He chuckled, licking the inside of his cheek as he glanced down at his drink. Now more than ever in this entire night, Jungkook lost full interest of filling himself up with alcohol that won’t even intoxicate him. He needed something sweeter. “Well I can’t confirm anything to you here.”

-

Hunger never tugged any stronger than a bad cramp with Belle. She found decent satisfaction in food but it was almost like strong, uncontrollable cravings when her body wanted to feed properly. A type of craving that needed to be satisfied for her own health and wellbeing. While Belle could take it more than any other vampire, refusing to take blood could still kill her just as easily.

Jungkook’s hunger was a basic need. His hunger panged and pulled at his gut, spread exhaustion through his limbs, head spinning uncomfortably. The last time he fed was on one of the history students in his group project. It was consensual but he couldn’t take much before the boy fainted. There was something different pumping through Belle’s veins, radiating with so much warmth and smelling so sweet that he made him a little dizzy.

Public bathrooms were not an ideal place for a feed but the dark purple walls and black marble floors allowed for less traces and easy clean ups. Door clicked as it locked. All Belle did was turn around before her whole body was engulfed with another, lips locked with his as he pinned her against the door. It was icy at first until it started meshing in with her own warmth allowing her to melt into it.

Somewhere deep in the thick lake of his thirst, Jungkook knew he should stop and go back to the bar to prevent any issues. If anyone found out who he was with in the bathroom stalls, they would give him hell beyond belief. But the thought drowned as quickly as he grabbed onto her hips and moved them to the sink counter.

Jungkook whipped her around until she bent over the marble counter a little, a smile curling at her reddening smudged lips. Looking into the mirror Belle admired the way his forehead knitted when she felt her dress push up to her hips. He brushed away her long hair to expose her shoulder and the crook of her neck.

Leaning in, he pressed wet kisses along her shoulder while his hips harboring a mind of its own ground against her plump bottom. His gut gripped at whatever satisfaction he could get from her smell. That thickly sweet smell just calling out to him. How was it possible? She wasn’t supposed to smell this warm. He wasn’t supposed to feel this hungry tasting her skin.

Belle tilted her head to give him more room waiting for him to get as riled up as possible before she took her own feeding. His large palms exploring every inch of her body, reaching up to her breasts and kneading them to light squeeze before trailing down her hips again.

Tongue traced across one particular spot, soft and sensitive. Fingers gripped at the roots of her hair to expose more skin before his fangs bared, white shining in the light before it sunk in. His whole body trembled in glee. The burst of warmth trailing down his throat, tasting so fucking delicious on his tongue that he kept taking in more. Jungkook moaned against her skin, one palm moving between her legs as he rubbed himself on her curve.

Her first instinct was to protest when Belle felt an intrusion on her skin. She held onto the edge of the counter so tightly that one of her nails could have cracked off. Except the words died on her tongue and the only sounds forming out of her were whimpers…pleased whimpers. The warmth that exploded through her was so thrilling, so intoxicating that her knees began to wobble.

Jungkook could feel himself getting full right to the very limit but he still took more. A slight tinge of concern sparked inside him. He was taking too much. Forcefully he pulled away and pressed his tongue against the injury to heal it quickly before taking deep breaths like they had already done the deed. He usually was really good at holding back. What was wrong with him?

“You’re a fucking trickster.” Belle breathed out with a light giggle. She really should be mad but her body felt far too satisfied to be angry. Though she still felt something stiff rubbing against her. With a cheeky smile, she swayed her hips against his causing the vampire to hiss and grab onto her.

“You wanted to do the same to me.” Jungkook spoke in a low growl, his eyes flashing back to his original red except it darkened in seconds with his ever growing lust.

“Except I can’t, can I?” Belle mumbled a little lazily, allowing him to dig his nails as much as he wanted into her skin but she still wasn’t going to stay put.

Jungkook buried his fingers through her hair and gently pulled her back so he pressed right against his torso. “You can’t tell anyone about this…” He whispered in her ear, lips brushing against her soft earlobe. “And you’ll still get your Lamborghini.”

Belle had it coming. The secret promise. Every pure blood or turned vampire asked her the same thing right when their moment of clarity passed through them after a night of heated movements and sinful noises.

‘ Don’t tell anyone I touched you. ’

‘ No one can know we were together. ’

She was never allowed to speak a word but that didn’t mean she couldn’t hear them jabbering how the failed breedling begged for it with their other friends. “I promise.” She muttered like a familiar song.

Jungkook searched her eyes for a moment, the ruby flecks losing their usual twinkle when she spoke those two small words. His expression softened, grip on her hair loosening before moving his hand down to fix her dress gently as if it could somehow cushion on a blow he didn’t know he caused. But it was there. He could feel the way her skin chilled slightly disallowing him to melt into her again.

Before he could truly understand what that feeling was, Belle shifted away from his hold a little, setting up her hair again in the mirror. Not a single confused twitch on her features.

Then why was he confused?

He was the one who asked to keep it a secret so that was it. It would be selfish to expect some kind of argument when there was no way around the matter.

“I’ll have to go first.” Belle broke through the momentary silence. “Yoongi won’t believe something happened if you went out before me.”

“Why not?”

Another grin tugged at her lips even though the flecks were still dull and unexcited. “I usually tire out the ones I’m with. They have to take a break or at least look really out of it afterwards.” Belle walked over to him and patted his cheek.

Jungkook scoffed lightly though a little relieved he caught the tiniest cheeky glint before she walked out of the bathroom.

-

Two mornings passed and it left the pure blood emptier than he wanted to admit. Jungkook opted to take this particular dawn to cage himself in the gym for a few hours before classes started rolling. It was the best time when the whole building was empty save for the security guards. Eventually when he tired himself out enough not to think about those ruby flecks again and have the smell of sweat instead of that sweet, warm aroma, he started preparing for the library.

Apparently Vira and a couple of others wanted to get some readings done and it was getting too sunny outside for their liking.

The academy library was vast filled with books ancient to modern adorning shelves so much taller than him he could barely see the top. Jungkook had a simple black long sleeves draped on him as he walked over to the corner table and found Vira with an empty seat to her.

Deep red lips curled up into wide grin as she patted the seat and the male didn’t really respond much before doing as she silently asked.

Jungkook never found a whole lot of interest in the conversations his group mumbled towards each other and simply opened his books to skim through readings like he thought they were supposed to do. Though even with their words tuned out a little, his eyes still flickered up to scan the shelves, a few of the tables with quiet students curling on themselves. Except one figure glowed so bright near a few tables forward.

Her hair was not as black as he imagined it was in the bar lighting. It was almost a chocolate brown, a little messy and wavy with a small clip loosely placing back on side of it. Lips in a lighter pink tinge while wearing lilac thin sleeve dress with small peach flowers scattered across from what he could catch. Jungkooks’ lips twitched a little seeing her smile so easily with such a genuine aura when a blond haired girl next to her muttered something between them.

“Kook.”

He felt a harsh nudge on his arm causing him to shake back into reality and look over at Vira again. “What?”

“We saw you sneaking in with a certain someone back at the party.” One of the other pure blood vampires, Hoseok spoke with a wide smirk tugging at his lips. “The failed breedling.”

“I thought we called her a failed experiment.” Vira commented with a ghost of a smile over to Hoseok who chuckled in response. “Some kind of deformed rat in the lab.”

Jungkook curled his fingers against the table trying to kill the words that were desperately attempting to escape through him. “She’s definitely not deformed. I mean…we’ve seen Doyoung’s nose.”

A turned vampire, Doyoung shot a glare at the male while the rest of the group laughed in full agreement though quiet enough not to echo through the room.

Hoseok then turned back to Jungkook with his eyes flashing red. “How non-deformed is she exactly?”

Nails dug deep into his palm until the skin almost ripped. Jungkook was glad he had a good ability to hide his abilities otherwise his eyes would have been permanently red from anger. “She’s…kinda perfect physically. I fed from her.” You fucking dumbass.

“You did?” Vira didn’t care to hide her grimace, hand pressing to her chest. “God, aren’t you sick?”

“It tasted good.”

“Really?” Hoseok’s eyes faded into red for longer than Jungkook was comfortable with. That same faint smirk appearing back on his lips. “How good?”

Jungkook wanted to look back at Belle. As if there was this intense pull at his belly wanting to watch her smile so genuinely again and tune this conversation out again. “Better than a human.”

“Fuck, seriously?” Doyoung’s eyes widened so much his eyes could have popped out if he wasn’t careful.

“Maybe we should tell our original masters to take in more humans to breed.” Hoseok nodded down at his open and ignored book rested there for show.

Jungkook actively ignored the comment and gathered a bit more confidence to look over at Belle’s table again. His stomach jumped to his throat when he noticed those dark orbs meet his own. He held onto it, expression softening to admire how beautifully they sparkled, how her chest rose and fell. The way her lips curled up before she leaned into whisper something in her friend’s ear.

Vira scoffed without any care for volume. “They’d rather feed on animals than do that. One abomination is enough.” Every word was harsh and cut, not a single ounce of regret in what was spewing out of her mouth.

He heard the words but paid no mind to them when Belle stood up from the chair, giving him another smile before walking over to the other end of the library where the last, abandoned aisle was.

“If you ask me then they should’ve killed her along with her dirty parents.” Vira shrugged looking down at her long deep violet nails.

“I need to find a book.” Jungkook got up from his chair and walked through the library on the other side of the shelves away from the tables. He didn’t share a single glance to Vira when she called his name.

It was almost like a pull. Dragging him across the floor like a sorry but happy puppet, running to the one who controlled his strings. She shouldn’t be controlling his strings. But Jungkook still let her.

Finally he reached the last aisle, pausing in his tracks for a moment when he saw Belle leaning back against the wall shelf with her arms crossed over her chest.

“What happened to not telling anyone?” Belle asked with a faint smirk plastered on her lips.

Jungkook walked to stand right in front of the girl, the morning sun brightly shining through the window but thankfully high enough not to beam on the floor. “Who says anyone’s going to know?”

The cute smirk stretched into a mischievous smile. “You owe me a little.”

“How’s that?”

“You fed from me.” Granted, Belle strangely enjoyed the feeling far more than she would like to admit. “Yet I haven’t gotten anything from you.”

“You don’t think it’s a little selfish?”

Without a reply, she hooked her fingers on the frilly hem of her dress, pulling it up enough for him to see those thick thighs again. “Depends on how badly you don’t want to give me anything.” Belle couldn’t help but dive deep into her gaze when looking at the male. Thin black sweater with the sleeves rolled up to show off the veins popping from his arms after his morning workout, long tresses naturally curled and touching his brows. She could just imagine those fingers gripping at her skin.

Gaze darkened as he watched her plump, pink painted lips curl up into a smile while the rubies in her eyes disappeared almost completely turning into a blackened red. “Do you enjoy making a scene?” His voice grumbled, stepping closer until once again he was met with that beautiful heat radiating from her.

“It’s not a scene if no ones’ looking.” Belle murmured, breath hitting his lips almost magnetizing him to dip his head down further. “Besides—I already know your little quiet shy boy is just a façade now. Don’t expect me not to have a little fun with it.”

Hand grabbed onto her hips like his life depended on it, pads of his finger squeezing her until he heard a light gasp. “I’m not like your other sweet humans that you tire out, darling.”

“Well I wouldn’t know much from experience, would I?” Belle tilted her head, her nerves awakening with the way his fingers deliciously dug through her clothes into her skin almost forming permanent dimples.

Jungkook walked forward letting her stumble back so she rested further against the last shelf of books. Her scent filling her nostrils again and he sniffed in letting it flood his lungs and thicken right up to his throat. His hands latched off her hip and trailed down her short dress, rough fingers tracing her soft thigh. Sliding up thin clothing between her legs, his hands paused where he felt heat. Wet heat soaking through a thin soft fabric, almost soggy when he pressed his fingers against it.

Belle let out a shaky breath, gently caressing his rising chest. As the male pressed harder she could feel her erect nub throbbing out for him. The light spark of pleasure caused her to close her eyes. What a mistake that was. Almost instantly the pressure on her panties stopped and another hand grabbed onto her chin.

“Look at me.” Jungkook growled under his breath. Eyes flashed red when their gazes met again causing Belle to smile albeit a little shakily.

A soft hum emitting in her throat, Belle felt his rough fingers sneak into her panties. Rubbing straight against her nub jolting sparks of pleasure through her veins. It was too tempting to close her eyes and fully relish into the sensations but she kept her gaze on him. His eyes faded into an extremely deep crimson.

Fingers caressed circles on her delicate clit before sliding down her dripping slit. Spreading her nether lips, he slowly pushed in his middle digit, curling up deeper as he hungrily watched Belle part her mouth and throw her head back against the shelf. Jungkook dipped in latching his lips onto her jugular to get more of her taste. So warm. So fucking sweet. He tried to muffle out the groan against her skin. Jungkook pulled his finger out and slid back up to her clit, increasing his pace into a mild assault of pleasure.

Belle brushed through his slightly cold hair, giggling lightly as he gently grazed his teeth on the side of her neck before kissing her jawline. She tried soften her moans with her trembling breaths but tiny noises of desperation still escaped. The rush tightened in her lower belly. Warmer. Hotter. Her hips jerked against his movements, almost standing on her tiptoes.

Then her ears pricked for a moment. Footsteps echoing a little closer than normal.

“Someones’ coming.” Belle whispered in a shaky tone, trying to push Jungkooks’ hand out of her panties but he didn’t budge.

“I thought you liked making a scene, baby.” He swirled his finger around her clit in a tantalizing pace again forcing her orgasm to move to a distance again.

“Jungkook—”

As the footsteps grew closer, Jungkook whipped her around so she faced the shelf. The librarian appeared at the aisle giving them a quick glance as Belle pretended to pick up a book.

It only took a few minutes of her gazing around, looking for a book rather than watching them directly but it thickened the frustration between the couple. Belle cupped her core gently trying to gain more friction to keep her pleasure driving closer though it was hard not to move too fast.

Once the librarian disappeared, Jungkook dipped his hand back without a single moment of hesitation, rubbing up and down her slit to spread her arousal before torturing her clit again. Head buried in her shoulder he viciously rubbed her bundle of nerves as she held onto the shelves for dear life while the book she held dropped to the ground.

Belle leaned her forehead against the shelf feeling the tightness in her lower belly. Calling out to her and yearning for more of his touch. Fingers wrapped around his forearm as it moved at a lightning pace. “J-Ju—” Heat surged through her body spreading across her limbs, knees shaking causing to almost stumble onto the floor but Jungkook kept her steady. She let out a clearer whimper as he continued to drawl out her orgasm, rubbing at her sensitive nub at a tantalizing pace.

Jungkook pressed roughly against her clit causing Belle to whine and giggle breathlessly. He couldn’t help but grin at the sweet sound, relishing in the aroma of lust mixing in with her natural scent. He turned her around more gently, taking his fingers into his mouth and suckling off her delicious release. “Is that good enough?” He brushed and fixed the light tresses hovering over the girl’s face.

She grinned brushing down the creases in her dress. “Much better.” Belle reached out and absentmindedly caressed the neckline of his shirt with a softer expression across her features, padding closer until her forehead was almost touching his chin. She had a light hum under her breath as she nudged her nose against his jawline.

“What’re you doing?” Jungkook asked, immediately regretting his words when he felt her comforting touch leave him making him feel empty.

Belle stammered stepping back a little and avoiding his gaze. He won’t care for you. “Nothing.” She mumbled quickly picking up the book from the floor, placing it back on the shelf. This was all you were meant for. “Sorry.” Was the final word uttered before she rushed to disappear out of the aisle.

Jungkook took a deep breath to call her back but the words died on his tongue. He had a feeling why she did it. That needy feeling to just cuddle into a warm body after coming down from a high. The little want to be taken care of. The knowledge of it all only caused a squeeze in his chest. I’m sorry.

NEXT PART >>

[thebibliomancer]

Dark Crystal Age of Resistance ep 8 liveblog

“Prophets Don’t Know Everything”

That’s a funny line considering that the prophecy was exactly right in the Dark Crystal movie but Aughra comes up with another prophecy in the sequel comic which is also exactly right but she doesn’t understand it herself until it starts coming true. So, yes, prophets don’t know everything. But prophecy probably does.

Just a stream of thoughts.

Hey, this is a bummer. Aftermath of spider eradication of an entire gelfling tribe is a huge bummer. I’m brave enough to say it. 

Aughra starts yelling at the spider that tried to take over her body last episode. And then helps patch it up anyway because she cares for all the creatures of Thra, even the jerks.

“It’ll leave a scar but scars are good. The mind forgets but scars remember.”

Apparently if the spider had succeeded in taking her over, its tiny brain would have exploded. Good to know!

LANDSTRIDER

Oh, its Seladon. And she’s seeing the wiped out village and going ‘serves you right you dinks’

Oh she’s trying to arrest Aughra for dunking on her. And then she’s like did your prophecies predict this?

Yes, she did. She tried to warn Maudra Fara but all Maudras are kind of dumb.

Oh, nice trick. She slipped her eye into Seladon’s pocket to spy on the castle.

“Don’t worry, Mother Aughra. I’ll convince the Lords to show mercy on you. And your treasonous pets.” Oh Seladon, you sure don’t have the right idea of your relationship with the Skeksis.

Hi SkekSil!

He’s explaining his evil plan to the science slaves with the sewed up mouths because he knows that they can’t tell on him. You’re a weird one, Sil.

Oh, he’s buying their double silence in exchange for him freeing them.

He’s going to get them to replace the General’s allotted vial of essence with a substitute so General will get weak.

The Hunter took off with Brea and Rian wants to go rescue her but Heretic is like NO GO GET THE GLAIVE YOU DUMB IDIOT

Aww Hup is injured and is out of action and so is the Archer.

Just Rian and Deet now.

The Heretic shows them a secret tunnel to the Breath of Thra. Which is something that Deet knows about.

Awwww Heretic and the Wanderer are wishing Rian and Deet luck and to not get killed. Because they want to be one one day.

... I really hope that they’re actually alive by the time of the movie and get to fuse.

So after all the discrimination that Deet has faced for being a Grotten she smugly reveals that Grottan have mean names for the other Gelfling too like Daylighter and Sky Baby. Which she reveals by teasing Rian. Okay then.

Deet: -grabs Rian and jumps down a pit-

Rian: “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”

Deet: “Don’t do that it aggros the bats”

So the spiders just brought the Gelfling to the castle to be drained all in one batch? INstead of using them as an army to capture other Gelfling? Sure, guys, sure.

Scientist: “I have strapped countless Gelflings into these chairs. And I was equally unmoved by their screams!”

Oh the guard that sold out the other guards is getting drained too. Rewarded as a traitor deserves I see.

Scientist: “The only mercy I have to offer…. Is death!”

I have to say. The Gelflings exploding at the end of being drained. That feels like youre losing something somewhere along the process. Like waste heat but soul goo.

So Chamberlain is cut off from essence because the Emperor is mad at him. But I bet he’s going to get the General’s share on the dl. That sneaky.

Deet and Rian arrive at her home cave and WHOOPS its being attacked by spiders.

Everything is awful everywhere.

Oh geez. There’s that minor arachnophobia again.

OH GEEZ GELFLINGS BEING TAKEN OVER BY SPIDERS AGAIN

Scientist: “Keep up you lackadaisical lumps!” Good alliteration, Tek.

Scientist’s two assistants just made the swap.

So with entire villages being taken, I feel like the Skeksis are really in danger of overgrazing.

Emperor: “Look at you yelling and gorging! This essence was hard won by! Lets not drink it all at once! … JUST KIDDING DIG IN”

And another Skeksis bacchanalia.

Scroll-Keeper: “My eyes! They’re working again! I’ve forgotten how ugly you all are!”

Skeksis: -laugh uproariously-

Emperor: “.... what?”

Ritual-Keeper is going to make a new ritual for drinking essence. It will involve a lot of bathing. Just guzzling essence in the bath I guess.

Oh no, Seladon just arrived.

And the Skeksis are not responding well to her new look.

Seladon: “I’m here to ask you spare the Stonewood”

Emperor: “Uh…. no”

Seladon: “I understand but the other clans have remembered their place so surely they’ll be spared your wrath”

Emperor: “...... No”

And the Skeksis just straight up revealing that they have been draining Gelfling is what it finally takes for Seladon to realize sense-

NOPE SHE DECIDES TO KEEP OFFERING THEM TRIBUTE

Emperor: “Uhhhhhhhhhh….. No!”

And then she asked the Skeksis to spare her sisters if no one else. You can guess what the response is. Its a no and laughing.

And then they take her crown and mock her. Because nothing like insult to insult.

And then she asks for mercy and they tear her Skeksis cosplay apart and take her to be drained. Because. All of Seladon’s hopes and dreams have to be crushed. And also because we gotta get that reference to the movie in.

SkekSil is probably just glad its not him this time. Its usually him.

I’m glad Aughra is crying for Seladon because I’m not really.

She Tried and that’s about what I can say.

Also Aughra’s friend spider rescues her eye which falls out of Seladon’s pocket during the ruckus.

Back over at the caves, Deet’s home is destroyed. Her family is gone. She has two dads apparently. That’s neat but sucks that they’re drunk. 

You know what I mean.

Oh hey its Deet’s brother Bobb’n! He’s controlled by spider!

Deet is trying to negotiate with the face hugging spider.

He just starting freaking out and hissing so I don’t think its going GIANT SPIDER OH GOD

And there goes spiderbrother.

And there goes Deet after Bobb’n.

NURLOC

DARKENED NURLOC HOH SHIT

ITS TRYING TO EAT EVERYONE

Rian: “Hey! Look at me! You hungry? I’m a much tastier Gelfling!”

That’s a brave thing you just did there Rian. And I’m sure you are pretty tasty.

Oh the General is blaming the Scientist for the essence not working for him.

Except Scientist has been drinking his essence and the General hasn’t so the Scientist is the jock here and bullies General right back.

Chamberlain breaks up the fight because I’m sure he has some angle but I think its so he can laugh at both sides internally

OH HI HUNTER

Wow he makes an entrance, dragging in some chains and pincushioned by arrows.

I think…. He just dropped dead?

No, he’s alive.

But a Skeksis seeming to die makes a huge stir.

Back in the tunnels of underground and Deet is lost

OH RIAN HAS BEEN SPIDERED

DEET IS ABOUT TO BE SPIDERED

OH and Bobb’n… uh intervenes? The spiders jump off Deet and Rian.

I guess the spiders aren’t so unreasonable? Rian saved Spider-Bobb’n from the nurloc so Bobb’n spared him?

Deet: “He wants us to follow him”

Rian: “What could go wrong” Heh, wRyian.

So Scientist is Bad Bedside Manner but point being the Hunter is going to die.

The Collector assumes that the Gelflings did this and the Skeksis immediately all start losing their shit. ANY ONE OF THEM COULD BE NEXT

I can see why the Emperor is in charge because he’s the only one who’s trying to think of a way to fix things.

He commands that the Hunter be given as much essence as it takes to save him.

Gourmet: “Surely not all of it?”

Ritual-Master: -glares-

Hah.

And then theres a scrabbling in the cage and whoops theres Brea

Scroll-Keeper: “Oh look the clever princess” -throws her in jail-

Brea: “No you can’t do this!”

Scroll-Keeper: “And yet its already done”

Brea: “You’re all monsters!”

Scroll-Keeper: “Have you only just figured that out? Perhaps you are not so clever after all”

Wow the Skeksis really are thrilled to let their jerk flag fly now that they don’t have to be nice to the Gelflings anymore.

Oh cool, Brea got locked up across from Seladon.

This will let them work their shit out.

Seladon: “There was an order to the world… Everything worked… Until you and your friends broke it!”

Oh good. She’s still delusional. What does it take to get her to see reality.

Oh hi Spider-Tavra is here too. Its a family reunion.

The most awkward family reunion on Thra.

So the Scientist has poured all the stored essence down the Hunter’s throat. Well most of all. It looks like he’s spilling most of it because those long snouts kind of make it hard.

But the essence isn’t healing him. So the Emperor tells Scientist to drain more Gelfling but the Scientist tells him that there’s a limit to what essence can heal. So Emperor hauls off and hits him.

Dang everyone is so rude to the Scientist.

But he raises the point that if the Gelfling know that Skeksis can die it will mean the end of their rule. I’m not so sure about this but whatever.

Emperor: “Bathe the Hunter in essence if you must! We are immortal at any cost!”

Oh hi Aughra’s Eye. On a spider.

So, huh. Are the arathim a hivemind or what? Because Aughra’s spider seems to be working for her. And Bobb’n saving Rian and Deet. 

Bobb’n: “You save our lives, we save yours”

Oh. I guess the arathim are just super into paying back debts.

So the arathim tell Deet that they’re working for the Skeksis in exchange for the Grottan caves which used to be where the arathim lived. Which Deet is like NUH UH THE GROTTAN HAVE ALWAYS LIVED HERE

Uh oh the gelflings did a colonialism. 

And the Skeksis helped. Or did it primarily. 

The Ascendency, All Arathim as One: “Then the Skeksis came. They demand we serve them. When we refused, they drove us out and gave our caves to more willing subjects.”

So. Like I said, the arathim were ahead of the curve on rebelling against the skeksis but nobody else on Thra stood with them, because horrifying spider people, so after countless years of being considered Public Enemy Number One by everyone the arathim have decided fuck it, we WILL deal with the Skeksis if we get to go home.

This is a complicated issue so good thing that everyone is going to die so we don’t have to deal with it!

Then the Darkened Nurloc kills an arathim and the spider-gelflings start freaking out. Because what one feels the rest feel.

Which sounds like a bad basis for a hivemind.

Rian figures out that the Skeksis must have known about the Darkening being here and that they double crossed the arathim.

But it doesn’t matter because the arathim are trapped in here.

Deet decides that she can get everyone out by talking to the Sanctuary tree.

Deet: “My clan takes our names from these caves. But if you were here first, then you’re Grottan too.”

Aww…. Angry denial to camaraderie in one conversation. We could learn from Deet. Learn something.

Rian asks that the arathim free the Gelflings under their control and fight against the Skeksis with them. Maybe they can together do what the arathim couldn’t do alone!

Probably not! The movie still exists! Nothing here is going to end happily!

But the arathim free the gelfling.

Hey, if the arathim are a hivemind, do the ones in the castle know this is going on too?

Awwwwww Deet’s family is cute.

Wait, is Aughra’s spider still part of the hivemind? Do the Ascendency know everything its been doing?

Oh this is confusing.

But it returns her eye to her finally. She’s just been sitting at the village.

Okay so I guess her spider is part of the hivemind because it tells her about the alliance that just happened.

Aughra: “It’s time to make my move”

THATS A MOVIE QUOTE WHY ARE YOU SAYING IT

Oh this is just so many spiders 

I GUESS THE GELFLINGS HAVE AN ARMY NOW!

Deet: “The tide is turning! A resistance is forming!” I should hope so! Its episode 8 into the age of resistance!

Rian: “I have to find the glaive” OH SHIT I FORGOT THAT PLOT POINT WHAT WITH ALL THE SPIDERS

And Rian is like This Is Something I Have To Do On My Own

But then before he can send Deet away, the Nurlocs show up and eat the Sanctuary Tree, trapping her in Rian’s subplot.

I appreciate dunking on the this is something i have to do on my own trope as much as possible but eh getting trapped in Rian’s subplot.

Sanctuary Tree: “The Darkening is pure energy! It cannot be destroyed! Like all energy it can only be transferred!” Some physics in my fantasy. Oh and the Sanctuary Tree uhhhhh uhhhhhhhhhhhh uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh transfer its power to Deet but also shows her a fucked up future with the Garthim and a weird Dark Side Deet and also the movie’s end.

Anyway, tree ded.

So the nurlocs attack. Hey the nurlocs are giant worm things that the Grottan raised. And yeah they’re worms but they’re livestock. This plot is about cows infected with pure evil

Deet stops the rampaging nurloc by absorbing the evil out of it. Even considering how everything is going to end badly, I think Deet is going towards a particularly bad end =(

[thelonelytraveler11]

Is this really the best I can do?!

It's been three years since I've done any form of research. I haven't worked in almost three years. Just in case anyone's wondering, yes, I filled out job applications (a lot, like ~250 before I gave up). For the past couple years, I've been living off my savings, the little bit of money I get from my family, and the little bit of money I get from having part time jobs. My work experience since dropping out has been pretty dismal (on average), I haven't been able to hold down a job that gave an appreciable amount of money for longer than 3 months at a time without being fired or being so miserable that I just said "fuck it" and quit.

I understand the concern some may have. You may consider it my fault for being unemployed. Quitting a job that I'm miserable while doing may seem irrational or irresponsible, but speaking as a person who spent almost the entirety of his college years being miserable, I can say with all honesty that being broke is better than being miserable. I envy those that can’t seem to comprehend my way of thinking, because that probably means they have a very good life. I wouldn't want to work in an environment that negatively affects my emotional state for 4 decades anyways. Having disposable income isn’t more important than my well being. Having a job I actually enjoy doing is very important to me because I don't have many sources of happiness in my life.

I'm kind of a loner. I don't have a strong relationship with any of my relatives and I don't have friends anymore (and even more troubling, I don't care to have those types of relationships anymore). The only potential source of happiness is my job. I don't foresee me failing in love or developing a close relationship with anyone. If the current trend continues, I think its more probable that it doesn’t happen.

I feel numb most of the time and when I do feel something, I'm usually thinking about my college days and that something is usually anger. It honestly was my biggest regret, going to the University of Illinois. Sometimes I wished I never went to college. Literally the only thing that was even remotely good about my college experience was my grades, everything else sucked. Looking back, I wish I went back to working at CVS after I graduated from HS.

In the alternate timeline, I probably would have been better off in the long run (very little stress, no debt, live rent free at my mom's house for a couple of years after graduation while working a presumably full time job which would enable me to save up a fair amount of cash before moving out). Instead, I came away with nothing. My college education was completely worthless, I reaped no benefits from being a degree recipient. All I did was waste 7 years of my life and thousands of other people’s dollars studying stuff that ultimately wouldn't matter. If I were a benefactor for the UIUC department of chemistry, I would be pissed to hear my story because that means my money isn't being put to good use, especially if I added into one of the scholarships that was awarded to me.

So, I know what your wondering, why am I writing this post? Well, I was trying to get ride time with CFD and I called for a specific person that wasn't in. Someone took a message and wrote my name down as Joel Dennison. Dennison was the last name of the NMR guy at UCI. That got me thinking about my college days and how I hated basically everyone. I caught myself looking through emails and for the most part, the more I read, the more I remembered, the more enraged I got. Now that's one sure fire way to put me in a bad mood, get me thinking about the bad ol' days. I bet many of the people I went to grad school with are enjoying their careers, while I was completely forgotten (and if they're not enjoying them, well at least they have them).

I’ve always wondered why were the other students so complicit? Is racism really that prevalent? Is there something else going on? See, it's one thing to not say anything while they were still students because it runs the risk of them being treated like I was treated. But to not even offer a helping hand even after their careers were established, knowing what they know, is un-fucking-real.

I never really felt welcomed in chemistry. People seemed to be more in love with the idea of me. I noticed the longer I stayed, the worse I was treated. At U of I, it was .... kinda bad. I experienced a form a discrimination where I would have written essentially the same answer as my lighter counterparts but received lower grades (slightly lower, but still). People assumed I did well in certain classes because the professor "liked me" (pretty sure no one at U of I liked me much). People also made statements that are crazy racist and then tried to pass them off as jokes. I fucking hated life in Champaign-Urbana.

SIDE NOTE: the following story doesn't necessarily reflect the chemists, but it does represent a subset of the student body at U of I. So, I'm sitting in the cafeteria with three dudes I already knew and some guy from the next table looks over to me and says "Sorry, if I offended you". I calmly replied "what did you say?" And Oh....My....God.... the look of utter fear was plastered all over his face. I said, "What did you say?", again, calmly. I can not stress enough that I was visibly calm throughout this entire situation. And then I noticed he was shivering, I figured I would warm up a lil bit by using my hot ass breath, so I repeated the question louder and slower (you know, to give the guy's body time to come to thermal equilibrium), again.......calmly. He was still frozen in fear. So now I am mentally gearing up to jump across this table to snatch this little boy's neck out from under him. And then something miraculous happened, my tunnel vision broke down and I realized someone was calling me. It was Jon (one of the kids I was sitting with) telling me to drop it...so I did......so, yeah, that's the story of how I almost got kicked out of U of I for snatching the neck out from under some little white kid during sophomore year. 


But there was one instance of me being the butt of racist jokes in chemistry that I can remember. Then UIUC grad student, John Overcash (who I believed worked for Ken Suslick), made mention of me "cooking crack up in the kitchen" on more than one occasion. Apparently, since I was a black chem major (that specialized in organic chemistry) I must have been a drug dealer beforehand. Or maybe he thought I was a drug dealer then....who knows...

To make matters worst, people have used the stuff other people made up to put themselves a head of me. Senior year I had an interview with eli lilly. My interview was at 9 am and there was one person interviewing before me at 8 am. The 8 am slot was taken by one Joseph Cullen (a fellow undergrad). During the end of his interview , I could vaguely hear what was said, but it sounded like Cullen told the interviewers that I was a drug dealer. The door opens up, the interviewer shoots me a look and goes into the room where my interviewers were and talks to them. Meanwhile Cullen walks past me. I give him a thumbs up and he walks away chuckling to himself. These are not good signs. I can’t say for certain that these people really believed I was a drug dealer, but their behavior suggested it. It was their reaction to me saying the phrase "nice white crystalline product", that’s what suggested it. I was describing the physical characteristics of the product from a reaction I ran and it just so happen to be a white crystalline solid (...smh). What I want to know why were these people so quick to believe Cullen? Yes, what Cullen said could be true (which it wasn't) but couldn't it also be true that he's trying to give himself a better chance of getting a job by undercutting the competition?

I wish I got a job offer as an undergrad. I honestly didn't want to go to grad school, but I had no other choice. Visiting grad schools was a whole ordeal, I was told in one way or another that I wasn’t welcomed ... at every school. At Scripps I was told explicitly that I wasn’t good enough to be there by complete strangers (how exactly would they know given that they never assessed my ability to think ... who knows). At Indiana University, I was placed in a hotel room by myself because they heard I slept naked. At UCI, I was told that I wouldn’t make it pass my first year (again, by complete strangers). At Caltech, I was told I didn’t belong because I was a drug dealer (or that I look like a drug dealer, apparently).

Now, I ask you, how do drug dealers look exactly? What are they’re defining characteristics? I ask because if you asked someone who lived in Champaign-Urbana for four years to imagine what a drug dealer looks like, they might imagine a srcawny white boy in a frat (not someone that looks like me). What makes the Caltech visit even weirder was that Prof. Sarah Reisman was just standing by, staring at me while I was being told I didn’t belong (by the help, you know, the people who was serving drinks). It was like she was trying to read my facial expressions to get a sense of what type of person I was (or am). Or was she using the help as a proxy to express her own thoughts (I’m not sure)? Was she waiting for me to “defend myself”? 
How would I be able to do that exactly?

SIDE NOTE: it’s impossible to defend yourself when there’s no evidence for or against whatever accusations there may be. It all comes down to what people choose to believe. The help has already chosen to believe I’m a drug dealer (or at least look like one) and I’m willing to bet there’s really nothing I can really do about.

No matter how I analyze the situation, Reisman’s behavior does not reflect positively on her as a person. I’m not sure if she knows this, but she was the primary reason I had to not go to Caltech. I found her behavior to be very off-putting and I got the sense that she didn’t really want me to go to school there. On top of that there was talk of her wanting to have (oral) sex. 


DISCLAIMER: I am effectively asexual, I don’t have sex ... with anyone ... or anything (yes, I actually needed to say both).

Now, I didn’t believe the talk when I first heard it because I thought there was no way a self-respecting, competent professor would admit to wanting to engage in a sexual relationship with a perspective student ... this is what I choose to think. However, the more I heard of her desires to have (oral) sex, the more I believed it. But I never fully accepted the rumors as the truth until my first year at UCI. Reisman came to Irvine for a talk and as always almost all the Organic students showed up. Before the event, I was sitting at the small table with another grad student in my year, her name was Beth R. (I don’t know how to spell her last name and I’m not going to try to google it). Beth ended up mentioning how pretty Reisman looked .... I “mmmhmmm”ed her. I could hear the chatter going on behind me, Reisman seemed mildly disappointed that I didn’t agree. Beth soothed her ill feelings by saying that I didn’t disagree. After the event, I was talking to Prof. Scott Rychnovsky and Reisman came up in the conversion. This was the final nail in the coffin that made me believe the rumors were true. It wasn’t the fact that he said she would’ve blown me, it was the fact that he said it soooo enthusiastically. He was as enthused as a person could possibly be in a professional/academic setting. No one should that enthused by the thought of a man getting his dick sucked as much as Rychnovsky was by the thought of Reisman putting my dick in her mouth, no one. It was kinda weird. 


The thought this woman hocking loogies on my dick tip, and imagining the sensation of warm saliva slowly rolling down my shaft (as I quote lines from the movie, Shaft (the Samuel L. Jackson version...obviously)) as I knock my head back, praying to god that I don’t come away from this situation with paper cuts (she has thin lips) just to look back down after noticing she paused just so she could fill the waves from my pulsating erection and make eye contact as she goes deeper and increases the pace eventually moving to the point where she starts straggling my balls and moaning like Lady Gaga singing a lullaby to baby while stroking my hard cock until I cum for her as Nicole Nava sits beside her while taking notes shouldn’t be even remotely amusing.....TO ANYONE...EVER!!!!!! But apparently to Rychnovsky, it was. It was at that moment I never wanted to be affliated with Caltech as long as Reisman was there. If Caltech and Illinois were the only two places that offered me jobs after finishing the PhD, I’d have to change careers.


Okay, so here’s the thing. I don’t really view professors as people. When I was a student, they were more like encyclopedias that could talk to me. They simply took the form of a human, kinda like a barbie doll. They’re anatomically incorrect, they lack genitalia, so they don’t have a gender. I honestly, believed this. One time, during senior year, I walked in the third floor bathroom in RAL and I saw Prof Steven Zimmerman taking piss. My face immediately screws all the way up, my inside voice says “How is he standing up and taking a piss when he doesn’t have a dick?”.....I thought that....I literally thought that....I shit you not. Just so you know, it wasn’t just Zimmerman, it was every professor. The women are doubly dickless, in my mind Suzanne Blum was like —(Mia Khalifa) because she has negative two dicks inside of her at all times.

DISCLAIMER: just so we’re clear, I’m NOT alluding to the fact that Blum has to get people to agree to have sex with her. Nor am I alluding to the assertion she’ll probably be nothing more than an afterthought for literally anyone. I’m merely trying to stress the fact that I don’t think of professors as people, but as encyclopedias that can talk to me.

I was made to feel unwlecomed at every school I visited. Why? Well, you'll have to ask them. I can honestly say that by the time graduation (from U of I) came around I didn't believe that i would have a successful career as a chemist, but I put everything into this so I couldn't just leave...

Grad school was even worst because on top of being the black kid, I was also the social pariah. The other students did a real good of making me feel unwelcomed. So much so that after two weeks of living in Irvine I stopped trying to make friends. No one seemed interested in being cool with me (I'm basing this off people's behavior ... obviously). And if some of them were, the way they showed it was so unique that I couldn't even recognize it as a sincere attempt to get my attention.

I also experienced some the same stuff I did when I was at U of I. Namely, instructors not giving me what I earned. In Dave VanVraken’s class I always received the second highest score on the exams. The really curious thing is that no one knows who received the top score. Once, when I asked to see the printed out distribution, the TA refused to show me (why?). I'm willing to bet that single point ahead of me was a dummy point. In Liz Jarvo’s class, when the first exam came around, we found out the high score was a 83. Who got the high score?...no one knows, but when I received my test the number 38 was written on (Also note I just so happen to get the same score as the other kid from U of I). At first, I was puzzled and glanced over to Peg (the TA). She sees my score, turns to Jarvo and says "he knows he didn't get that low". While I don't remember Jarvo’s exact words, she stated in some way that I would come to her and argue my case for a higher grade. So, here's the thing. I shouldn't have to defend myself or argue with you to ensure that I'm treated like everyone else. It should be a given. 


From what I hear the reason why I was treated this way has something to do with them not wanting me to "talk stuff" to the other students. 


Okay, so where is this coming from? I ask because I’ve been me long enough to know their opinion of what I’m like isn’t actually based off me. If they actually talked to my fellow classmates, the most common thing you’d probably hear is that I’m quiet. So either these people are just making up stuff to justify treating me how they want to treat me or my classmates are liars. I’m not really the type to talk about my grades (or really anything) unless the topic is explicitly brought up in conversation (and this is assuming I feel like talking at all). You can dress it up however you want, but treating me like a second class student for any reason solely reflects poorly on you (it gives no indication as to what I’m like). There were instances like this in half the classes I took. Some, admittedly were a smaller deal than others. In Vanderwal’s class I got marked off once because I didn’t draw both arrows in a mechanism that included a homolytic cleavage. For those that don’t know, if a homolytic cleavage occurs and you show one electron going in one direction, it is assumed that the other electron goes in the opposite direction and therefore does not need to be explicitly stated (minor, but mildly annoying). In polymer chemistry (taught by Aaron Esser-Khan), we had one assignment where we needed to propose something that wasn’t in the primary literature. I proposed a polymerization based off a derivative of the Hiyama coupling. Khan’s critique was that since it wasn’t already in the primary literature, it probably wasn’t a good idea ... really?! And don’t even get me started on spec because that spec TA was sketchy as fuck. He intentionally told me the wrong due date for a homework assignment and I’m pretty sure he shaved a couple points off one of my exams...

Okay, so these experiences are only a subset of the shitty things I experienced as a UCI student. But do you know what made life at UCI worst than life at U of I? My research advisor (Suzanne Blum)....and to a slightly lesser extent my fellow group members. Over the years I grew to hate them. I was lied about, I had a homework assigns hidden behind water coolers (Darius Faizi), I’ve had the nitrogen lines removed from air sensitive reactions (Darius Faizi, Suzanne Blum), I had products from reactions switch out for reagent alcohol (it’s a mixture of ethanol, methanol, and isopropanol) (Josh Hirner), I’ve had septums removed from reaction mixtures (Josh Hirner), I’ve had people try to placate me with sex (Katrina Roth), I’ve had people try to use the fact that I was in an agitated state to get something they wanted (Katrina Roth), I’ve had people turn on the indoor lights in my car in an effort to drain my battery while I’m allowing them to use my car to practice driving so they can get a U.S. driver’s license (Muhammed Al-Amin), I’ve had people ask questions just so they can not listen to the answer (Chao Zheng, Drew), I’ve experienced asking people for help just so they can not even try to help brainstorm what the answer could be (Darius Faizi, Kim Tu), I helped others brain storm shortcomings for a proposal, just to catch an attitude when they realize I didn’t catch everything the first time around (Quinn Easter). 


SIDE NOTE: To provide context, Quinn asked me to look through a synthetic route in his proposal that he was intending to present in his advancement to candidacy exam. There was something I didn’t immediately see but did bring up during a group when he was giving a practice presentation. He became visibly upset and mentioned he thought I was trying to make him look bad. If I was really trying to make you look bad, I wouldn’t have told you anything, so that you would’ve made the same mistakes when it actually mattered. Quinn, you’re an idiot.  


l’ve had people call me after I already dropped out and given up on chemistry from a redacted telephone number claiming to be an official representative of UCI calling me in an effort to get my address (Suzanne Blum, Ashley Davis), and I’ve had the experience where I ask for information pertinent to group website maintenance and they act like I’m hitting on them (Adena).

SIDE NOTE: 
This is something that always amused/offended me, having  someone assume I’m attracted to them because I acknowledged their existence. It’s funny because because they have the audacity ... but it’s also offensive because the operating assumption is that I don’t have standards, which couldn’t be further from the truth. (They seem to make a lot of faulty assumptions)

What was this experience suppose to teach me? How was I supposed to become a better person or scientist because of my affiliation with the group/university? Me coming to Irvine and working for Blum was a total waste of my time. I’m not entirely sure what her deal was, but it seemed she had a preconceived notion of who I was. No matter what type of relationship we have (or suppose to have) this will cause problems where there shouldn’t be. 


Is the request that someone’s opinion of you is actually based on you too much to ask for? Because I feel it’s a basic request that most people should be able to easily do. The contemptuous treatment did subside with time (mostly because I avoided talking to other students when ever possible) but it never really stopped. Why did it start to begin with? I’m willing to bet the only things they don’t like about me has everything to do with me reacting to the way they treat me.  Again, I have to ask, is racism really that prevalent?


Then one day, I started getting so fed up with life that I decided I needed an escape, even if it’s only for a couple weeks. So, I started planning a trip to Europe. I worked hard in the weeks coming up to the trip. I was trying to finish my entire project before I left (sadly, I didn’t, but I tried). Things were looking on the up and up. Before I left, Blum even said I was meeting her expectations, that was the nicest thing she ever said to me (it was the nicest thing anyone at UCI has ever said to me). I went off on my trip, and during the middle of it I received an email essentially telling me that my time at UCI was finished. Why? I still don’t know. 3 years later and I still don’t know why my career was ended before it was even given a chance to start.  It’s hard to move on with your life when you don’t have closure. It’s really hard to move on when you still have to live with consequences of other people’s actions.

 SIDE NOTE: I got the sense sometimes that Suzanne Blum did not really care about her job 100% of the time. I’m not entirely sure what to make of it. It’s like, either she truly didn’t understand the importance of her role (as the leader of a research group) or she truly doesn’t give a shit. Either way, she doesn’t deserve to be in the position she’s in. 


I still remember my last day in Irvine. It was bitter sweet. I was so happy to finally get to leave but also a bit anxious because I knew that the thousands of hours I spent studying and doing research was time wasted and it would never amount to anything. I knew I wasn’t going to get a job with my credentials. I even saw Eric (the other kid from U of I) in the student center when I went over to get lunch. He was looking at me all sad and shit because he knew I didn’t have a future in chemistry. We didn’t talk, we just walked past each other and exchanged glances. I tried to conceal a smile as I walked by. By the time my Dad’s flight landed, I had moved most of the stuff out my apartment. 


Life at home was hard. Depression is a mother fucker. I liken it to  a less severe version of sleep paralysis. I felt like I was stuck in my own body. Kinda like how I felt in the early Irvine days when it would take me hours to roll out of bed. I would literally wake at 6 am and just stare at the ceiling for ~4 hrs before I could convince myself to get up. And to make things worst, no emotional support was offered by my family. Their assumptions that I’m somehow responsible for other people’s actions along with their snide remarks about me being lazy did the opposite of help. I regretted coming home, even more so when I found out I somehow failed the background check for CPD. 


Now, how in the holy fuck does someone without a criminal record fail a background check? The only reasonable thing I could come up with to explain this is that the work experience I listed (my research experience) doesn’t count as work experience because instead of working for a salary, I worked for credit hours or a stipend. I have to tell myself things like this to convince myself I’m not getting screwed over in every facet of my life. If this is true, then my college experiences are doubly worthless because not only can the credentials I’ve earned not be used to get a job I’m more than qualified to do, but they can’t even get me a job you don’t even need a bachelor’s degree for.  


I wish I moved to LA after dropping out. If I stayed in Cali, I’d be force to move on with my life because I wouldn’t be able to sulk in my mother’s house for months. What would I do for work? idk...but I’d find something, and when I get fired, I’d just move on to the next dead end job.

As time went on, I found it easier to move, I still have scars though. Scars that may never heal. What can I do from here on out? I’m not sure. Going back to graduate school isn’t an option (or any program that requires letters of recommendations) because after experiencing what I’ve experienced and allowing those that I depended on for letters of rec to learn about my experiences, everyone seemed to be complicit. Either they didn’t do anything to change the course of action or it seemed like they were trying to cover it up by telling me to take the site down. I lost faith in everyone, I don’t think I can trust any of the profs to submit a letter of rec on my behalf when they either have done something that goes against my interests, are complicit in the wrong doing of others, or seem as though they’re attempting to cover up what happened to me. Even if I could get in anywhere, I still don’t want to go back to school. I lost faith in higher education. I lost faith in people. Whatever I do, I have to be able to do it without a college degree.

Just in case you’re wondering, I can’t depend on my college friends either. Mostly because I wasted no time trying to make friends. I’ve come to believe that friends are a worthless luxury.

I honestly believed that if I studied hard and knew my shit someone would hire me. I was wrong. I learned the hard way that to the outside world you are not you. You are not the sum total of your thoughts and actions. You are your skin color. You are your hair texture. You are the clothes you wear on your back. You are what people choose to believe you are. You are not you. People don’t care to get to know the people around them, they just want to feel as though their justified in believing the way they do. So I guess in order to get by in life you just need to be everyone’s friend and present yourself in such a way that everyone deems acceptable. Having the skills needed to do the job is more of an afterthought, huh? You know, one of the corollaries is that you’re expected to exhibit a certain level of extroversion. Welp, it just so happens to be the case that I’m an introvert and if the previous statements have some truth then I can honestly say this system was set up for me to fail. The only way I can get by in life is because I’m better than the other guy. No one will ever choose me because I’m their best friend.

I believe that’s where some of my problems stem from. When people see my face, they expect an extrovert (or at least someone who is more extroverted than me). When they find out I’m not who they want me to be, the reactions can range from essentially nothing, to mild disappointment, to mild hostility. And I think this is because people are more interested in the idea of me than actually getting to know me. So when they meet me and actually get to know me after building me up in their heads they’re kinda like “...oohh, this is it?!”. I don’t understand people. It’s like people just assume that you’re going to conform to their world view while refusing to even bend to yours. Now, I’m totally opposed to the very concept of “fitting in” because of all that. I got the sense “fitting in” means assimilation, which may involve losing qualities that make you unique (ones you may actually like about yourself). I don’t see why I should change in any way for people I don’t like, that I don’t see the benefit of being associated with, or for people that never liked me to begin with. People even sometimes mock my behavior, presumably because I’m not what they want me to be and this is just their way of trying to get me to conform.


The most recent example of this is my cousin Sonia (she’s multicultural). I went to her graduation party during the summer. And as with most family functions, it pretty much consisted of me sitting quietly most of the time. So fast forward to when it’s time to go home. My mother and 2/3 of my brother’s children are making their way to the car, noticing the third one is missing I go back for her. As I’m making my way up the front porch, three of my cousins (one of which is Sonia) are in my path and I say “watch out”. As I walk past Sonia, she says something along the lines of “woah, he must be serious....” while laughing... I’m going to say this once, “Mocking my behavior because I don’t act how you want me to act will never help anything”...... unless you’re actively trying to get me to dislike you. I have to remember that Sonia is just a child. Maybe it hadn’t dawn on her yet that there’s more to life than what she’s experienced. She’s probably never met a person like me, so she won’t know what to say in order to get me to interact with her. But then I’m like, “But what makes her think making herself look like an ass would actually help her in any capacity?” How does this explain the behavior of grown ass men and women who do the same thing?”. I wonder if it’s a cultural thing, and these people just don’t realize how bad they make themselves look to people that aren’t like them. 


On the way home, I started thinking, “Is this really the best I can do?”.  Have I been doomed to live a life where I’m not really happy? No, it can’t be the case. I still have faith. I may not have faith in other people anymore, but I still have faith in myself. I believe I can make something out of nothing, even if no one else does.

After going through all I’ve gone through, all I want is to not suffer anymore. I just want to be insanely rich for no reason. This won’t solve all my problems but it will eliminate many. If I ever come into having an ungodly amount of money, I’d give some of it to my family so they can afford many of the things that they want in life. Then I’d disappear, never to be seen or heard from again.


I’ve become acutely aware of the fact that people want to learn useless knowledge without ever having to talk to me.

DISCLAIMER: the knowledge is useless because we won’t/don’t have a relationship of any sort. Why waste your time learning information that isn’t relevant to your life?

So I’m going to take this opportunity to answers some personal questions because the thing I hated the most about you people is your unique combination of arrogance, ignorance, and obliviousness. While I can’t help with the arrogance and the obliviousness, I can help with your total lack of knowledge. So, without further ado ...

QUESTION TIME

Did you ever like life in Champaign county?

I was excited to be there in the beginning, then I met the people and all that excitement went away quick.

What’s your fondest memory from college?

That one time when Chipotle was doing that 2 for 1 deal. That was cold.

So, what’s up with your sexuality?

I don’t have sex because I don’t want to take the risk of having children, also no STDs. People were oddly obsessed with my sexuality and I never quite understood it. Here’s the thing, I’m a little self centered and I’m like you in the sense that I don’t immediately acknowledge other people’s way of thinking all the time. I honestly don’t understand why there was as much “interest” in knowing what I’m interested in (I use quotes because if people were actually interested they probably would have try talking to me). My viewpoint is that your claimed sexual orientation is irrelevant, it’s not even worth bring up in conversation. The reason why is simple. If you see a pretty girl and you know she’s interested in men, it doesn’t necessary mean she’s interested in you (assuming your male) right? That’s why the only thing that matters to me is whether or not the person I’m interested in is interested in me. 

It’s funny because if you completely ignore the fact that not everyone thinks like me, it would seem as though there were ALOT of dudes that wanted me to fuck them when I was in college.

To the people “interested” in knowing my sexual orientation. Ask yourself two questions. Do you want a shot? Do you think you have a shot? Think hard about it. If the answer to one of those questions is “no”, don’t waste your time.

If you haven’t already figured it out by now, I don’t think like a normal person. I’m never going to adjust or change to make you feel comfortable, the best thing I can do is not talk to you at all. I don’t adjust to you, you adjust to me. Why? because fuck you, that’s why.

Are you ever going to have sex?

Maybe, maybe not. What’s it to you?

Do you think people like you?

I know they don’t. Based off their actions, they don’t want to like me either. They’d spend less time gossiping about the negative characteristics I could have and more time actually getting to know me if they did.

You don’t think people know anything about you?

It all depends on what you think it means “to know”. Personally, I don’t. I’m never around people long enough for them to be able to get a true sense of who am I as a person. All people get are snapshots. Sadly, that isn’t good enough. That’s something I don’t think most people realize, actually.

What if after reading this, people actually started trying to get to know you, how would you react?

My recommendation is that you don’t waste your time. You can’t undo the damage that’s already been done. I’ve already stopped caring.

If you could go back in time and pick another college, which would you pick?

Xavier University in NOLA. I’d pick this HBCU because I’m fairly confident some of the problems I encountered at U of I wouldn’t have existed there.

Why did you choose UCI?

Because they told me I wasn’t going to make pass my first year.  I knew what type of student I was. I knew I had what it took to make it through any program. But I was at a low point in my life, where nothing seemed to be going right. I figure If I go there and get forced out after a year, it wouldn’t be my fault. The devastating thing is they let me get so close to graduating before just booting me out like they did.

Why did you use the word “they”?

Someone easily could have stepped in and did something. The department just enabled her (Suzanne Blum).

What grad program do you think you should have choose?

Indiana University or Rutgers probably would been better for me.

What motivates you to do well?

Meaningful positive reinforcement. Don’t just give out compliments for the sake of giving out compliments.

What’s one thing you hate most about people?

Their stupidity. Before I was told I failed the background check fro CPD. I’d get calls from some sort of case worker for CPD who was suppose to determine my eligibility. This dude asked me if I “resigned” from the Blum group and acted like that was a perfectly valid question. This wasn’t a job, it was a component of an academic program. I WAS A STUDENT. There was no resignation. You don’t resign from school. You either graduate, drop out, or get expelled. I know some college education is required for employment with CPD, so it’s far more likely that this guy is an idiot. REMEMBER GRAD SCHOOL IS STILL SCHOOL AND THERE ONLY 3 WAYS TO LEAVE.

Did you ever consider taking legal action?

Yes, but I know the people I’m dealing with aren’t above lying. Since there’s no physical evidence (that I have in my possession) proving that wrongs did occur, I’m reluctant to believe I’d actually win. It’s not smart to get into a “he said she said” battle with people that are believed to be pathological liars.

Are there any common misconceptions you’d like to clear up?

I wasn’t doing the school shit to make friends. I only wanted to make money. That’s the only reason why I was there, to make money. Every time someone why I as getting a PhD, my answer essentially went like, “I’m getting a PhD because money.” I see no point in trying to make friends with people who seemed to have been conditioned to dislike me.

Also, just because I’m quiet it doesn’t mean that I’m stuck up. It is in fact possible to be someone who isn’t a big talker.

Contrary to popular belief. I am in fact a HUMAN BEING. I have emotions and sometimes something could happen in one part of my life that can affect other parts of my life (like how well I do in school or how productive I am in lab).

Why did you just give up?

What’s the point of playing the game when you know you’ll never win.

It seems like the college years were a hard time for you, did you ever do something to ease the pain, like drugs or alcohol?

No, I love myself too much to potentially set myself up for problems later. I gave comedy a thought, but I found really hard to want to be funny when all I’m thinking about is the depressing shit that inspired the joke. If I’m gonna do something, it’s gonna be something were I don’t have to live with the consequences of my actions. I was suicidal. I was planning to kill myself the night before my thesis defense.

Why then?

I was fairly confident that no one there cared to save me from myself. But just in case someone wanted to surprise me, I figure it would be best to do when no one would expect it.

How?

potassium cyanide. The night before my defense I was going to make it my point to get a bottle of potassium cyanide. a couple months before my trip to Europe, I looked up who had it. It was on the fourth floor (or maybe the fifth). Go all the way down to the last lab space on the right hand side. When you walk into the lab space go along the right hand side and go through the door on your right. After that go to the first door on the right hand side. I placed a bottle on KCN in the first column on the left hand side, top shelf. The bottle should be on the wall on the left side (assuming it’s still in the same place I left it). I figured it wouldn’t get much use due to its inherent toxicity so it would probably be in the same place I left it when I needed it. I wouldn’t be surprise if the bottle is still in that exact spot.


Did you ever think about getting help?

From who? When I did finally ask for help, the first thing I was told was that the department sided with Blum (mind you this is before any type of investigation occurred). As soon as I posted the email from Chris Vanderwal on this blog, his tune changed immediately. But his actions didn’t reflect the words he put out in the public space. He was of no use. He had no interest in helping me in any capacity. I’m sure of it. I’m all alone in this world, I don’t have a safety net so if I fall, that’s my ass.

What about the professors from UIUC?

My previous statement stands. I had no one.

Is that why you started the blog? You felt like your were all alone and just wanted someone talk to, even if that someone was actually a void in space?

Yes, that’s exactly it.

Is that why you’re still posting, you still feel alone?

yes

But what about your family?

With them I’m a dependent not a provider. They’d be okay without me.

So have you really never sought out a therapist?

I couldn’t find steady work. I can’t afford it. Depression is a rich people disease. When you’re broke you’re just labeled as lazy.

What’s one thing you want everyone to know?

You shouldn’t let your assumptions or the assumptions of others affect how you treat me. Remember, you don’t know me. I could come to be your best friend, your faithful and supportive business partner, or the love of your life and you’d just let me slip away all because someone told you dislike me.

(Also, please don’t waste my time talking to me about all the typos I made)

[luxdevreaux-blog]

(alexis ren, cisfemale, queer) - stop your howling, LORINDA "LUX" DEVERAUX is here. SHE is an OMEGA wolf and is 22 years old. When they aren’t prowling through the woods, they’re an ESCORT/CAM GIRL. All their friends say they’re +ADAPTABLE and +LOYAL, but they can be -SUSPICIOUS and -CARELESS if you get on their bad side.

This is my baby girl, Lux, and here are the basics to know when dealing with her pathetic ass. Lux was born as Lorinda in Metairie, Louisiana and grew up as a good Catholic girl. She doesn’t know how anyone lives without Louisiana culture. She can tell you all of the signs that crawfish season is over, still keeps a hurricane box, and is confused when no one knows what lagniappe is.

Her father was Mayor of Jefferson Parish, where they lived, and her mother was a real estate agent. They lived in the lap of luxury, but for Lorinda, it wasn’t good enough. She didn’t want a kept life. She didn’t want to have to watch her every word. She just wanted to be happy. She wanted to explore and make mistakes without it being on the 5 o’clock news, as it made her father look like a hypocrite. So Lorinda began to lash out.

By the time she was 16 years old, she’d racked up two DUI, one Public Intoxication, and four Disturbing the Peace charges. Her father did whatever he could to keep the girl indoors and out of trouble, but he was extremely clear: she was to reform herself, or she would be out of the house as soon as she hit 18.

Lorinda still fought against the rules that her parents tried to force upon her, and eventually, it was just a waiting game for all of them. Lorinda believed that her father would have kicked her out earlier, but knew there would be an optics issue if he veritably evicted his young daughter. But at 18, Lorinda was out on the street, with an armful of her things, and left to care for herself.

So Lorinda did the one thing that she figured would be easy money: she began to sell her body. She lived in motels and advertised for herself online. The first few times were hard and degrading, but it got easier after that. When one of her clients started to get too attached and persistent, waiting for her outside of her motel room, she picked up and moved, starting over again a few parishes down. She began to go by Lux. She was scrappy, she learned how to fend for herself. Word got out that she was not to be fucked with, and she felt safer than she’d felt in her stodgy Catholic mayoral life in Metairie.

Lux was just over 19 years old when she took a client to bed with her. He was dark, handsome, but there was something else there. Something terrifying. But Lux defeated her better judgment in order to get the handsome price he said he was willing to pay. Lux could not have anticipated that she would be the one who truly paid.

She doesn’t remember much from that night. She remembers riding him in the disheveled motel room. She remembers that his fingers wrapped against her hips so hard that they caused bruises. And then, she remembers searing pain. There’s not much past that, despite how many times she’s tried to put the pieces back together.

Seemingly blind, Lux followed the man, who had suddenly become sweet. Apologetic. They only had a month, he explained, and she needed to be aware of the changes that were going to come. He was a werewolf, he explained, and he wanted someone who would be his heir, to take over his place when he abdicated. He proved it to her through his full-moon shift. Perhaps Lux should have reacted with more horror, but she accepted it. The quicker she did so, she told herself, the more information she could have.

Lux’s Sire primed the girl for his position. When her first shift came on the following full moon, he helped her through it. He taught her everything she needed to know, welcoming her into his pack, and by the time he withdrew from his position, it was an easy enough transition. He was off for greater things, he explained, though Lux never asked what those greater things were.

Sure, Lux was young, but she was powerful. Her adaptability made her worthy of respect. At that point, however, Lux was just looking to survive. She let the pack decide where they wanted to lead, which was to a town not far from Thornridge. But the haven for supernaturals seemed like a far better bet, so Lux tried to reason with the pack. Ultimately, it had been something of a democracy, but since they didn’t want to leave, Lux abdicated her Alpha position, much like the Alpha before her. She knew it made her a lone wolf, an Omega, to be tested by the elements and possibly picked clean, but she didn’t care.

Lux came to Thornridge very recently, and she feels more at home here than ever before. Although she still escorts, she is far more discerning about the clientele. Who knew when a supernatural would snuff out the Omega’s light? She took to web-camming to help pay the bills while she still carefully took part in the world’s oldest profession.

About a month ago, Lux sent a letter home, letting her family know that she was alive, but would likely never see them again. It haunts her, sure, but she’s much happier here, and she’s much happier on her own.

Personality wise, Lux is independent and fierce. She’s usually sexually submissive, but that doesn’t mean that she’ll roll over or heel. When Lux has sex for sport, she’s a fan of clawed backs, love bruises, pulling hair. She likes a fight. She does like being defeated in the end.

Overall, Lux is a kind person and fiercely loyal to those who’ve earned her loyalty. But it takes a while for her to trust people. As far as Lux is concerned, when she first meets someone, they want to kill her. It is up to that person to prove otherwise.

As for connections, I’d love:

Her sire - the only necessary details are those that are listed above, but even then, I can be flexible with the story

Members from her old pack

Clients (both old and new)

Friends from Louisiana

One person that she can fuck whenever she needs it with no strings - though we can discuss if strings and/or emotions break in eventually: Gavin Wolfe

Several fuck buddies

Someone that she just can’t seem to trust no matter how much they’ve earned it 

Someone that she trusted immediately, but perhaps foolishly

Mate, or future mate

And those are just some primary ideas! Lux considers herself “queer,” which means that she doesn’t discriminate based on her partner’s gender identity. So come at me! Give Lux some love. I’m excited to unleash her on this world!

[broadhurstblog-blog]

A rough draft/timeline...

Once upon a time, I was a quiet child, who excelled in sports and could string together good sentences every now and again.

I received a certificate at the end of my first year in a boy’s secondary school in East Hertfordshire, by my departing English teacher called Ms Prole. It was certified that I was  ‘Most Daydreaming Pupil.’

I was a child who lived inside his imagination, thought deeply about things. I had a fair amount of friends, most of them being at least two years older than me.

We would break into old bomb shelters, explore hard, found a small woods that contained concrete bunkers, and convinced ourselves we had discovered a secret, disused American airbases. I would go on long bike rides, often finding great secluded bodies of water that contained hard to catch fish. I played for a local bottom of the league football team, on often flooded fields that used to be paddocks.

Then something changed.My granddad died when I was twelve.Losing a wonderfully wise man whose wisdom I took for granted, well, it hit me really hard.My thoughts seemed to constantly focus on death.Over the course of the next year or so, my behaviour changed drastically, I became extremely undisciplined, argumentative, I got suspended from school on several occasions.With the help of an Educational Officer – psychiatrists and psychologists took an interest in me.After a few sessions with various medical professionals, my parents were informed with confidence that I had a condition called manic depression and that it was caused by a  chemical imbalance/ deficiency of a salt in my brain.After being sure that my heart, kidney or liver was free from defects, I was prescribed Lithium Carbonate.

I took the medication most days between the ages of 14 and 18.

At first, my behaviour did not improve, and it was decided that I should spend time in an adolescent unit of the psychiatric wing of a hospital near St. Albans.

It was a very strange place, most of the resident children there were unwanted orphans I seem to remember.

A lot of the nurses were very heavy-handed in their restraint techniques, and doctors loved nothing more than to sedate those of us not willing to take part in various group activities.

The heavy-handed ways, the use of an exclusion room and the sedation syrup, for even the smallest of infractions – it makes me question the ethics and morals of some of the staff, but nothing I was privy to was against the law as far as I can tell. (There has been stories in the news recently about the police investigating historic abuse allegations, I can’t testify to being abused, but it certainly wasn’t the holiday camp that the staff tried to portray to my parents. Maybe the memories of that place would have been a lot worse without a father and mother looking out for me).  

After a couple of months I was back to school.

I was the shadow of my former daydreaming self, but I no longer displayed as much unruly behaviour.

I had lost virtually all my friends, I was increasingly paranoid, socially withdrawn.

I was behind in my school work, and I wasn’t able to catch up.

By the time I was 15 I had the choice of resitting the year or joining another school out of the area 18 miles away, to be in the fourth form where nobody knew me.

So I opted to leave a pretty decent boys-only comp with a Christian ethos, to go to a mixed comp that used to be a grammar school, but which had become a third-rate egalitarian mess.

It is safe to say that I did not respond well to the lowering of educational standards. By the final term of my second attempt at being a fourth form pupil, I was ‘asked to leave’.

I left the school at the age of 16, without any experience of the fifth form. I went to the regional college for two years and completed a couple of NVQ modules in I.T.  

I spent most of my college time in the library or playing basketball in the gym.

The point here is that I am not convinced I was mentally ill.

Maybe I was, but I do not think that medication/psychiatric treatment helped me.

The major thing that helped me become a less self-destructive force was *time*.

The death of a close family member really haunted my mind, and I did not know how to deal with it.

My childish poetry turned dark and very cryptic, unfortunately, the caring adults in my life who were interpreting my private words without my permission, they were totally off the mark in concluding that my prose was a sign of me being suicidal. I was certainly crying out for help, but my words were actually full of fear about death, not a single syllable expressed a desire to die.

I wasn’t sleeping much, and prolonged lack of sleep can affect behaviour a lot,

I stopped playing football,

I stooped going on adventures,

I stopped daydreaming.

Lack of exercise can cause serious problems, especially in a child who was once very active.

Add puberty to the mix. . .

I do not think Lithium was the answer to whatever was happening. And how did the medication affect the development of my fragile brain?

I guess that question is impossible for me to ever answer.

I was lucky to have a good family GP who was close to retirement, a doctor from an older generation who was in agreement with me that I would be better off without medication.

As soon as I was eighteen he helped me gradually decrease my doses until I was on the medication no more.

I lacked a lot of confidence, but had no problem finding work with the occasional kick up the backside from my father.

After running into a few dead ends, I eventually became a cellarman/barman in an unusually well run small family pub that was slightly off the beaten track.

In my mid-twenties I moved to Manchester with my licensee certificate in hand, but instead of running a pub, I ended up working in a mind-numbing call centre on behalf of a royal Scottish bank.

By the age of 30, I was a homeowner.

On paper, things seemed good. I heard from a reliable source that my parents were proud of me.

I was unhappy. The relationship with my supposed future wife was on the rocks. I was tired of being a battery chicken trying to get people into debt. I was drinking too much. I had put on a lot of weight. I think I might have been slightly depressed.

Then one evening there was a TV show on, presented by Stephen Fry, it was about living with Bipolar Disorder (The new name for manic depression.)

I think it was on at about the same time that the disability discrimination act came into force.

I was struggling with timekeeping and discipline at work.

Home life was not happy. I was a little drunk and somehow became convinced it was a good idea to talk about my ‘mental health history’ with my partner, and to my manager at work the next day.

Things went downhill very quickly from there.

I went to a doctor, got referred to a psychiatrist.

After a 30 minute consultation, it was decided that I had a mild version of ‘Bipolar II’ And Lithium Carbonate was being prescribed to me. It didn’t agree with me, and I abruptly stopped taking it. Bad idea.

I was a mess. After about 2 years I had split with my partner, mindlessly took my name off the mortgage agreement. I struggled to stay in regular work because of my erratic self-destructive behaviour. I was on benefits for a couple of years.

Eventually, I got a job as an assistant manager, in a betting shop of all places. It was an interesting few years, but working for a morally challenged employer can eventually take its toll on one’s spirit.

This is when I ‘gave up’. I would get a sick note from my local medical centre once a month, claiming I was depressed, etc.I started claiming Employment Support Allowance and Housing Benefit because of my supposed ‘disability.’.The money was more than enough to exist on as part of a house share in a diverse student area in south-central Manchester. At some point a cannabis smoker moved into the house I was barely existing in.It didn’t become long before an occasional toke turned into a regular habit. It took a year or so, but I eventually became undoubtedly mentally ill. I was not self medicating, I smoked weed because I enjoyed smoking it, I loved getting ‘high.’  

My behavior gradually started changing for the worse over the course of about half a year. I went to doctors complaining of anxiety, panic attacks, insomnia etc. I told them about my cannabis habit too. The young funky doctor referred me to a young hip psychiatrist, who after 5 minutes of questions, decided that   Quetiapine may be the answer to my woes. I wasn’t getting any better, and I gradually stopped taking the medication. I started smoking cannabis again.    

I was under the influence of what I’ll call acute mania not long after reading ‘The Cameron Delusion.’ I am fortunate that was the last book I read before I became undeniably mentally ill.

At the height of my illness, it was like I was inside a vivid daydream like I was fast asleep and wide awake at the same time. It is hard to explain. I was aware I was ill though, I sought help. It was eventually decided I should be sectioned, and I disagreed, so a bunch of health workers accompanied by police officers came to my front door. One policeman with impeccable customer service skills informed me I would have to be restrained with cuffs for my own safety, and I was escorted into the back of a police van. The police chauffeured me to the hospital, where I became a reluctant resident/client in a locked ward for about 6 or 7 weeks.

I was forced to take a cocktail of 4 mind-altering drugs on a daily basis. A psychiatrist would see me for about five minutes, once a week. I was told after the sixth or seventh short consultation that I could be released under the condition that I carried on taking the drugs. A social worker visited me on two occasions in the two months after my release from the hospital. Assured I was taking the medication, the visits stopped. I didn’t mention to the social worker that I was gradually lowering the doses I was taking. Within days of the last visit, I had eventually weened myself of the medication completely. It took several months, but eventually, I got a job.

And I have been well, in full-time employment for about a year now, without any problems.

I don’t use cannabis anymore either of course.

And I haven’t knowingly talked to a doctor since my time in the hospital.Mind-altering drugs just do not agree with me.

[daebakinc]

Elision

Pairing: Chanyeol x OC Genre: Hybrid AU, Fluff Summary: You take in a down on his luck hybrid, never expecting him to burrow his way into your heart. Word Count: 6.1K          

 The first time you see Chanyeol is in the pub down the street from your apartment on the kind of rainy night that softens the street lights from harsh orange to quiet yellow.

           The Foxy Lady itself is one of those magical places where you always feel at home no matter what part of the world you come from. The kind of place that beckons to you like an old friend to come and sit and rest awhile, to let the world fly by this small corner of comfort. Inside the classic brick exterior, the space is one long, wide room with walls painted an antique green that hit just the right balance of bright and comforting. An old oak bar stretches comfortably along the wall and chairs and tables are scattered around, their surfaces worn to gleaming gold and soft with long and faithful service. A small stage sits in the corner farthest to the door, ready for the any of the city’s musicians willing to accept payment in steady drinks, rich food, and good company. The kitchen, hidden by a wall behind the bar, emits delicious aromas incessantly, sending smells as tempting as a siren’s call onto the street each time the door opens.

           Or perhaps it isn’t the building itself that creates such an ambience. It very well could be the bar’s owners, the inseparable husband and wife duo Jongdae and Sol. Between the two of them and their matching brilliant, teasing personalities, the sun never sets on The Foxy Lady. For reasons unknown, they’d personally taken you under their wing the night after you wandered in, forced out of your new grocery-scarce new apartment by the search for food. As you soon found out, any and all who walked through the door were treated with affable welcome by the stunning husband and wife. Everyone was a friend to Sol and Jongdae.

No one knows Sol’s real name because Jongdae doesn’t call her by anything else but the nickname he gave her, but one smile from her and you’ll forget you even had a question. But that smile always turns a thousand times brighter when she looks at her husband, and Jongdae’s return smile is no less adoring. If the two of them had lived hundreds of years ago, there would still be ballads and poems about the love they share. On your bad days, you’ll admit you’re a little jealous of that kind of bond, having never experienced anything close.

“Hello, gorgeous.” The smile Jongdae sends you when you slide onto one of the unoccupied barstools could win the heart of a stone. “How’s your day been?”

He doesn’t bother asking for your order, already scribbling it on a tab and adding it to the kitchen’s stack before reaching for a glass and filling it with your favorite, an elderflower Italian soda with a crazy straw.

You send him a grateful smile and take a long slurp from the straw as soon as he sets it in front of you. “Semi-productive. Got all my cleaning done for showing off the apartment to potential roommates next week, but then I lapsed and ended up binge watching half the season of The Flash for the rest of the day. That’s why I’m here. I didn’t realize the time and when I did, I decided I was too lazy to cook for myself.”

“You’re anything but lazy. You deserve a break.” Your friend laughs as he bustles about, transferring plates from the kitchen at each ding to a patron or to the server’s station for Jongin or Baekhyun to pick up. “Any promising leads for roommates?”

“No one stellar.” You shrug and sneak a mint leaf from behind the bar to pop in your mouth. “But I only put up the ad last week. Hopefully someone shows up, though Joy will be hard to replace.”

“We’ll find you a roomie just as good. Maybe Sol knows someone.” Jongdae looks over your shoulder as the bells above the door tinkle happily. His smile widens as he raises his hand to wave. “Hey! Glad to see you made it!”

Curious, you shift in your seat to look as well. When you do, you’re suddenly very glad you already swallowed your drink.

The stranger is one of the hottest men you’ve ever seen. Or do you mean cutest? At the moment, you can’t exactly tell. Even in a long tweed overcoat, his body seems to go on forever and the way the light is lets you see the shadows of solid muscles beneath his black turtleneck. His face is handsome as well, half in shadows from a wide brimmed hat pulled low, but his tentative smile, the smile of a child hoping he’ll be welcomed in a new classroom, softens your heart in the same way the sight of a puppy would.

“Hi, Jongdae,” he says, the baritone of his voice like a shot of dark chocolate to your veins. He shifts a guitar bag from one hand to the other with the care of a mother readjusting an infant. You can tell the bag is old, its once black color faded to a grey-green. “Am I on time?”

“You’re an hour early, Chanyeol.” Jongdae wipes his hands and rushes around the bar to engulf the other man in a hug.

You have to stifle a giggle when Chanyeol bends so he can put his arms under Jongdae’s even though he is significantly taller. It makes him look even more childlike.

Jongdae pulls away but keeps a hand on Chanyeol’s back as he brings him further into the room. “Would you like to eat first? We’ve still got awhile before the dinner rush.”

“I’d like to set up and I guess if there’s time, I wouldn’t mind something.”

“Alright. Don’t forget, you don’t have to play the whole night. You can take breaks when you’re hungry or thirsty, okay?” Jongdae’s voice fades into the white noise of other patrons’ chatter as he walks away with Chanyeol, his luxuriant fox tail draped over one arm to keep it out of the way, tapered ears flicking this way and that in merriment.

Your eyes slide away from Jongdae to Baekhyun and Jongin. Jongin’s round, soft umber-colored bear ears twitch slightly as he chats with one of the regulars, while Baekhyun’s ears are floppy like a beagle’s, his tail also cheerily swishing away. Hidden in the kitchen, Kyungsoo probably has his thick wolf’s tail neatly covered and ears tucked under a hat to keep his fur out of the food. Various patrons display the hybrid traits of animal ears and tails out in the open as well. The Foxy Lady is one of the few places you know several feel free enough to do so without fear.

When people started modifying their bodies with animal genes, people thought it was odd but accepted it with eye rolls and quick skitters across the street, labeling it a trend that would fade out. Then these people became parents and passed on the same physical traits to their children. For whatever reason, this was an entirely different matter in the eyes of many. The eye aversions became mutterings, and in the worst cases, the mutterings became violence.

Finally, humane and moral minds won out, leading to the ratification of anti-discrimination laws to protect and guarantee equality for hybrids. The passage of time has brought more societal acceptance of hybrids, but some still have issues finding jobs and housing, let alone decent treatment in certain pockets of the country, and unfortunately, in your city as well. You’ve seen Sol kick out a number of people for snide comments about Jongdae and the others. They got off lucky though; you’d heard a few of their remarks and they warranted a good bloodied nose in your opinion.

           A plate of steaming home fries, buttered asparagus, and sage-rubbed chicken slides beneath your nose. Wearing a yellow T-shirt that makes her dark skin glow even more than usual, Sol winks at you as she pokes your forehead. “You look like you’re thinking about something unpleasant. Need to spill?”

           You shake your head and smile reassuringly. “Nah, it’s nothing.”

           “Well if it is, nothing a little bit of Kyungsoo’s cooking can’t fix, so dig in.”

           “Who’s Chanyeol?” you ask, biting a stalk of asparagus in half and nodding your head in the direction of the stage. “I’ve never seen him before.”

           Even when Sol frowns, she’s beautiful. “Jongdae found him a couple days ago playing on a street corner. Poor thing just came to the city a few weeks ago and still hasn’t found a job. Jongdae convinced him to come here to at least get a good meal in him. The man’s too skinny.”

           Jongdae returns in time to hear the last part of Sol’s comment and grins, pecking her cheek as he scoots past her. “Not all of us can be as thick as your man, you know. Give me a week with him and I’ll have him looking like Pooh.”

           “You leave that to me. What should I fix for him?”

           “He said nothing yet, just wants some hot water with lemon and honey. I think he’s one of those ‘wants to earn his keep’ types.”

           Sol snorts and heads towards the kitchen. “He’ll get it, but he’s got another thing coming if he thinks he’s going to play hungry under my roof.”

           When closing time rolls around, you’re still sitting in the same place, nursing your fifth soda. You really had intended to get back to your apartment after you ate to continue cleaning. You really had. But you hadn’t counted on Chanyeol. Jongdae was a generous man, but he wouldn’t have let Chanyeol play if he wasn’t good. The problem for you was Chanyeol wasn’t just good. He was pretty fantastic.

           His deep voice became sinful liquid cocoa as it poured from his mouth through the microphone and into the room. Pair it with the rich honey tones of his guitar he plucked with the ease of hundreds if not thousands of hours of practice, and you were as hooked as a magpie who spotted something shiny.

           Some of the songs he played you knew, but some you didn’t. Given the emotion in his voice, the way he closed his eyes when he sang them, you’d bet good money they were songs he wrote himself. And he played everything, taking shouted requests from patrons, tickling the guitar strings to play American rock one moment and Spanish lullabies the next. A few times you felt your mouth hanging open as you stared. You’d shut it just as quick, but hard as you tried, you just got lost in the music and it’d happen again.

           The light flick of a wet rag on your arm snaps you out of it. Baekhyun snickers and uses the rag to wipe at a spot on the bar. “Alright, kid. We love you, but time’s up. Last call was thirty minutes ago. Some of us got places to go, people to see.”

           “If by places to go, you mean your bed, yeah, you’re right,” you tease.

           “Hey, my bed and I are in a very intimate and adoring relationship,” he retorts. “Don’t be disrespectful.”

           “My deepest apologies.” You glance around.

           You’re the last patron still sitting, the other stragglers pushing through the door into the misting night. Chanyeol is still on the stage, packing away his guitar, head slightly twisted as he speaks with Jongdae. You wonder what they’re talking about and if the tall, talented man will become a regular fixture at the pub. It’d be really nice if he did, you think. For a variety of reasons.

           “Yo, Y/N, you’re not drunk or something are you?” Baekhyun asks, looking concerned at your spacing out. “Jongin and I can give you a lift home.”

           “Sorry, just thinking.” You pat his hand. “I’m totally sober unless you count sleepiness as a form of intoxication.”

           “With some of the places I’ve found Jongin sleeping when he hasn’t had a drop, I might.”

           After a few more minutes of banter and catching up with Baekhyun and Sol, you finally slip off your stool and head towards the door. You notice with a small bit of disappointment Chanyeol is already gone. You’d wanted to compliment him on his performance, but you’ll have to wait until next time, you suppose. Hopefully there’s a next time.

           When you step outside the door, you find that in the time you spent talking, the mist outside had escalated into heavy-drop rain. Not a torrential downpour, but enough to have you looking like a drowned rat by the time you get home.

           With a sigh, you walk to the edge of The Foxy Lady’s canopy and tug up your hood, tying the strings together. Mentally mapping the neighborhood, you figure if you keep to overhangs and sprint between the breaks, you can reach your apartment with minimal soaking.

           You arrive at the street corner with only a few scatterings of rain on your shoulders and head. Your shoes, however, emit sloshing, squishing noises with each step after an unfortunately placed puddle. Looking across the street, your apartment door within view in all its tempting dry socks glory, you brace yourself for the final sprint.

           A sniffle alerts you that you’re not the only person taking shelter in front of the department store. You cautiously glance to your side. A tall figure huddles against the concrete wall, the wet canvas of the overhang touching the top of his hat and drops of water dripping off the brim onto his shoulders. A stuffed brown paper bag with The Foxy Lady’s logo sits beside a beat-up looking bookbag and an old guitar bag. Even in the shadows, you recognize him.

           “Chanyeol?”

           The man jumps like you prodded him with a stick, nearly collapsing.

           “Hey, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” you quickly apologize, throwing your hands up, palms out.

           “Do I know you?” Chanyeol asks. He inches towards the bags as if afraid you’ll snatch them.

           “No. I’m sorry, I’m Y/N. I was at Jongdae’s earlier and I overheard your name. Bad eavesdropping habit. I listened to you play the whole night. You’re really good,” you offer with a tentative smile in case your apology wasn’t enough.

           “Oh. Thanks.” He smiles a little, sending a little flutter through your chest. “You’re a friend of Jongdae’s?”

           “Him and Sol.” You don’t comment on the once over you notice him give you. “They were my first friends here. Are you waiting for a ride? You can wait in my apartment if you like so you’re out of the wet; it’s just over there.”

           Maybe you’re a little crazy offering to let a strange man into your apartment, but Chanyeol looks like a lost puppy and only a heartless person would leave a lost dog in the rain.

           “Um, I’m actually just trying to figure out where to go.”

           “Like directions?”

           “No. I- I, um,” Chanyeol ducks his head and mumbles, “I don’t actually have a place yet. Haven’t found one I can afford, you know. There’s a shelter over on 7th I could go to, but things didn’t go so well last time…”

“The shelter’s that bad?”

“Sometimes.” His tone doesn’t encourage questions about his experience with them.

“Why not call Jongdae?” you ask, knowing he and Sol would let Chanyeol crash on their couch without a second thought.

Chanyeol shakes his head. “I wouldn’t want to get in their way and Jongdae already lined up a few gigs for me so I have a some money. I can’t ask him for more than that.”

His eyes move away from you to gaze out on the street. You recognize the defeated slump in his shoulders and the downward set of his mouth. It’s the look of someone who’s talking themselves into going through a repulsive experience because there is no other choice. You’ve made that kind of decision before.

Before you realize it, you make another choice. “Why don’t you stay with me while you get on your feet?”

Chanyeol’s eyes shoot back to you, so comically wide they remind you of Kyungsoo’s. “What?”

“My roommate had to move back home unexpectedly, so I’ve got a free room and month paid for the next two months, so it can be yours if you want it.”

“Really? You really mean it?”

           “Yeah. I have an extra room, you don’t have a room at all. Jongdae trusts you, so I figure you’re a good guy. Not like you’re going to attack me in the middle of the night or something, right?”

           “No. I’ve never hurt anyone intentionally,” he says in a rush.

           “I wouldn’t think so,” you laugh.

           “But you’d really do that for me? A complete stranger?” he asks as if giving you a chance to take your offer back but hoping you won’t.

           Your smile fades a bit, unpleasant memories lurk towards the surface of your mind. “I promised myself once that if I ever met someone as down on their luck as I was at the time and I was in a better position, I’d do what I could to help them.”

           Chanyeol picks at a lose string on his sleeve as he thinks your proposal over. You wait, shuffling your feet so they don’t get cold.

           “You should know something about me first,” Chanyeol says softly. Avoiding your eyes, he slowly reaches up and takes the brim of his hat between his fingers. After a second’s hesitation, he takes it off.

           Two bright wheat gold colored ears perch on the top of his head, pressed against his hair in anticipation of being rejected. If Chanyeol expected you to be surprised, he’d only be half right. You’d had your suspicions given Jongdae’s special attention and how he never took off his coat in the pub despite the heat that came with a room full of warm bodies.

           “They’re very pretty,” you say.

           Chanyeol lifts his eyes, his fingers stilling from crumpling his hat. You can read the shock there and want to hunt down whoever put that fear and expectation in his head. You also want to hug Chanyeol, to take away some of that hurt, but you’re afraid that may be too much for the poor man just yet.

           When he doesn’t move, you walk over and shoulder his bookbag. The lightness of it makes you feel worse for him, but you mask it quickly. You hate being pitied.

           Instead, you tell him, “Grab your other stuff and we’ll make a run for it, okay? It’s the brown door, right beside the lamppost.”

           Clearly in a daze, Chanyeol picks up his guitar and bag of food, and runs after you across the street, up the stairs to your apartment, and into your life.

           The first time you kiss Chanyeol is on your couch on a warm spring Sunday afternoon made for new beginnings.

           All is quiet when you return from the grocery store, the only sounds drifting inside from the open living room window. Birds chirp as they industriously build a nest on the outcrop of the building roof, cars hum and chortle as they pass below. Spices from the Lebanese restaurant down the street and sugar from Kyungsoo’s Sunday pies at The Foxy Lady mix with the half-pot of coffee you made earlier.

           The grocery bags crinkle loudly on your arm as you step around the pile of shoes in the entryway. Your flats and boots a tumbled mess with Chanyeol’s sneakers and loafers in a cozy, domestic scene that makes you smile.

           That night you let Chanyeol sleep on your couch, you hadn’t expected he’d stay long. Every day he went out looking for work, only to return empty handed. But he never showed his disappointment, shrugging it off with an addictively wide smile and promising to try again the next day so he could start supporting himself. Chanyeol insisted on earning his keep by fixing things around the apartment and occasionally cooking despite your protests that he didn’t need to do anything.

A week turned into a month, a month into two, two months into just over half a year. After Chanyeol found a job at a music store run by Jihoon, a lemur hybrid, it made sense for him to just stay. Your apartment was already home.

           You like having Chanyeol around. He always makes you smile. Every day you come home, he greets you with perked ears and feathery tail wagging. He listens to you talk about your day, sportingly joining in your complaining even though he has no idea what you were talking about or celebrating with you on a raise or just a plain old good day. Then there’s the music.

           There was always music in the apartment with Chanyeol. Every day is an auditory adventure. He has some favorite songs you’ve learned to love too, but otherwise there’s always something different playing. Classic rock, house electronic, acoustic ballads, bubblegum pop. You name the genre, Chanyeol plays it. Your favorite days are the ones the music is Chanyeol’s own.

You’ll bundle yourself into a blanket burrito and sit on his bed to listen to the new songs he composes and records on an old computer. If you are really lucky, Chanyeol plays the songs for you himself on one of his guitars. You’d bought him a new one for his birthday, and he collected broken guitars to fix from work. There’s at least one in every room, even the bathroom for some reason.

By the time you put the groceries down, Chanyeol is still nowhere in sight, but bits of him are spread throughout the apartment.

           The Ironman cookie jar you bought for him at the same secondhand store he bought his bed and desk. The black hoodie haphazardly laying across the back of the couch because although it’s his, you wear it just as often. The cheap neon yellow picture frame he won at a carnival last summer, a picture of the two of you from that same night inside, both wearing matching grins and arms around each other.

           Your eyes slide to Chanyeol’s still closed door. It’s not abnormal for him to sleep late on a weekend off, but after last night, you’re worried.

           It began innocently enough. Dinner out at The Foxy Lady because it was board night, an hours long board-game competition Sol held at the end of every month. You lost horribly to Chanyeol at Sorry in round three, but you had your revenge when Baekhyun beat him at one of the most intense Bananagrams games you’ve ever seen, spectators loudly cheering for their chosen side until they were drowned out by Chanyeol’s agonized losing howl and Baekhyun’s ecstatic victory yips.

           Chanyeol was still sulking when you left, fluffy tail dragging on the ground. “I still say ‘quartzy’ can’t be a real word,” he muttered as he held the door open for you.

           “Jongdae found it in the dictionary, Chanyeol,” you reminded him gently.

           Your friend snorted before looking at you intently. “You’re going to help me practice for next month, right? Like every day. Next time, I’ll be the champion.”

           “We’ll see.”

           “Come on, Y/N,” he whined. He threw an arm around your shoulders and hugged you to his side. “Please? Pretty pretty please with a strawberry on top?”

           You cursed your heart for still beating faster and your nose for wanting to bury itself in his chest. You buried your feelings for Chanyeol a long time ago when your friendship became one you couldn’t live without. But you’re only human and they sometimes pop through. You suspected deep down that they were the reason your dates rarely got a second chance.

“Isn’t it supposed to be a cherry?” you asked wryly.

           “But you don’t like cherries. You like strawberries,” he replied, grinning down at you.

           “Fine, I’ll help. Can you just slow down a bit? I feel like I’m being decapitated.”

           “Oh, sorry.”

Chanyeol shortened his stride to match yours, but kept his arm in place, his hand curled around your arm in easy familiarity. The gesture was almost brotherly in nature and while it wasn’t exactly what you truly wanted, you love physical contact as much as the hybrid beside you.

As you walked past a group of men standing at the street corner and smoking cigarettes, an anonymous voice not so quietly sneered, “Freak.”

The rhythm of Chanyeol’s wagging tail skipped a beat and you felt his body stiffen beside you.

Your temper flared. It had taken a long time for you and the others at The Foxy Lady to help convince Chanyeol being a hybrid was nothing to be ashamed of with as many setbacks as leaps forward. You weren’t about to take some random asshole thinking he was being funny and better by insulting your friend.

You slipped out from Chanyeol’s arm, ignoring his soft murmur of your name to march back to the group of men. “Which one of you said that?”

“What’s it to you, sweetheart?” one of them asked. He sent you a smile you supposed he thought was charming. “Why don’t you lose the mutant and come home with me?”

“The only freak here is you, jackoff,” you hissed. You stepped close enough that discomfort flashed across his face. “You think you’re a big badass man calling another human a derogatory name? Newsflash, you’re not!”

You pointed at Chanyeol who still stood frozen where you left him. “That man is better than you’ll ever be in every single way. Every way, you hear me? All you’re doing by insulting him is proving you’re the subhuman piece of trash who thinks just because someone’s different, that makes them unworthy of common decency and respect. Go home and pick up a damn book so your brain might grow enough to be a human’s.”

For good measure, you plucked the cigarette from his hand and stomped it into the cement before tramping back to Chanyeol.

“Hey, bitch!”

Heavy footsteps came behind you, a hand roughly grabbing your shoulder to spin you around. A raised hand caught the streetlight. Heart stopping, you screwed your eyes shut and brace yourself.

The expected smack never came, a strangled cry sounding instead.

You opened your eyes to Chanyeol’s back. His tail stuck straight out, stiff and unmoving. Peeking around him, you saw your would-be assailant on his knees with Chanyeol’s hand clenched around his wrist.

“Touch her,” Chanyeol growled, the veins in his arm straining against as he tightened his grip, “and I will make sure you regret it.”

Chanyeol waited until the man gave a weak nod, then tossed him aside. He turned away, pausing when his eyes met yours.

An anger hotter than you thought your friend capable of was fading to embers, replaced but another emotion you could not place. When he didn’t move, you grabbed his hand and towed him along behind you.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Chanyeol whispered when you got to the apartment door.

You took a deep breath, so your voice and face were calm when you turned around. Meeting his eyes, you said, “Yes, Chanyeol. I did.”

You hadn’t spoken really after that, both going to your own rooms to mull over your own thoughts. You don’t regret standing up for Chanyeol, but you’re worried you made him uncomfortable.

Tiptoeing to his door, you press your ear against it. There’s not a sound except the soft piano Chanyeol plays to help him sleep. You open the door wide enough to slip inside.

The only thing you can see of Chanyeol is the top of his head, dark hair contrasting with his white blanket and pillow. Carefully, you ease yourself down on the bed beside him and drag the covers away from his face. His Rilakkuma doll is still tucked safely in his arms, squished against his cheek.

Affection rises in your chest, tickling your mouth into a smile. “Chanyeol,” you murmur, reaching out to card his mussed hair.

He grumbles something under his breath but doesn’t open his eyes.

Your fingers continue combing his hair, working their way up to one of his ears. You rub the silky fur between your fingers. The gesture is as much for your pleasure as his. A moan rumbles from deep within Chanyeol’s chest and he leans his head into your touch.

His gaze is blurry with sleep when he opens his eyes, but they quickly focus on your face. He smiles. “Morning,” he mumbles, voice deeper than normal with sleep.

“Try afternoon,” you chuckle. You can’t bring yourself to reclaim your fingers as Chanyeol props himself, and continue to ruffle his hair and ears. “I got everything to make your favorite for lunch if you’re hungry. Tonkatsu.”

His smile immediately grows. “You’re the best, Y/N. I’ll help.”

When he grabs the blankets to toss them back and get up, you put a hand on his chest. “No, it’s alright. I’ve got it. You can go back to sleep if you want. I’ll get you when it’s ready. I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“Alright? Why wouldn’t I-” His confused expression falls into a frown. “Oh.”

“The guy was being a dick to compensate for his not having a satisfactory one, you know. You are not a freak.”

“I know.”

“Good. I’d do it all again, Chanyeol, and I meant every word. You are incredibly important to me.”

You gaze into his eyes, trying to make sure he knows how sincere you are. The plan backfires. You’re suddenly far too aware of him. The depth of his chocolate eyes with golden flecks reflecting the sunlight. The smell of his cologne saturating the blankets, the room. The heavy beat of his heart beneath your hand on the firm muscle of his chest.

Snatching your hand and mind back, you smile and hope Chanyeol didn’t notice the growing charge. “I’ll get you when it’s ready, okay? Go back to sleep.”

Because you need to prove to yourself you’re in control, you lean down to kiss his forehead just as he shifts his body upward, saying “It’s okay, I’ll help.”

Your lips hit his lips instead of his skin. The contact lasts a second, but it leaves both of you frozen, staring at each other.

You scramble for an apology, the power to laugh it off, anything but the silence.

Chanyeol’s eyes flick from yours to your mouth. You have no other warning before his hand shoots up to cup your jaw and drag your lips back to his.

Chanyeol is kissing you. Chanyeol is kissing you. That’s all you manage to think before your body takes over. It sinks against him, seeking his scent, his taste. A high whimper of desire fills your throat as his mouth moves against yours, soft but starved. Kissing him is all you imagined but better. So much better.

With a gasp, Chanyeol pulls away, his hand staying in place, hot against your skin. His chest presses against yours with each pant. “I- I’m- uh…” he blinks several times. “I..”

You surge forward, kissing him again, and draw back just enough so your noses brush. With your eyes closed, you whisper, “You better not be about to say, ‘I’m sorry.’”

“Okay,” you feel him wet his lips, “I was going to say… I’m, um, surprised?”

“You’re surprised? You’re the one who kissed me on purpose first.”

“Oh, yeah.” Chanyeol laughs and falls back onto his pillow, a hand over his eyes. He peeks between his fingers. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Yeah.” You swing your legs up and lie down on your side next to him. “Is that something you’ve been wanting to do for a while?”

“Kinda.”

“Since when?”

“Since that night a few months ago when you fell asleep on me while we were watching El Dorado.”

You remember that night. A little. El Dorado was one of your favorite movies and Chanyeol was a quick convert. But it had been a long week, and one moment you were watching Chel seducing Tulio, and the next you rolling over in bed to sunlight peeking through the window. You thought you’d just walked yourself to your room in a stupor, but maybe not.

“I didn’t even notice you were asleep until your head hit my shoulder,” Chanyeol continues. He glances up at you, then away with a gentle smile. When he speaks, there are many little pauses, as if he’s lost in his own memory and has to savor it. “Then I looked down and… I don’t know. It was like I was seeing you for the first time. I couldn’t breathe. You were soft and perfect and beautiful. Your lips had this little pout, like you were upset at yourself for falling asleep during your favorite movie. All I wanted to do was kiss it away, but…. I didn’t. I just picked you up and tucked you into your bed.”

“And didn’t say anything after?”

“You’d just broken up with what’s-his-name, the freakishly tall one obsessed with Harry Potter. I’m not a jerk.”

“Seungjun. And he was the same height as you, Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol shrugs it off.

“Would it freak you if I said I started liking you that first night at The Foxy Lady?” You chuckle at his dropped jaw and perked ears. You close his mouth with a finger. “You were super cute and talented; can you blame me?”

“Do you still think I’m super cute and talented?” he asks, glancing at you through his eyelashes with a teasing smile. He whines when you smack his shoulder.

“What do you think? I kissed you back, didn’t I?”

“Yeah.” Chanyeol laughs and flips onto his side as well. His eyes roam your face and his voice lowers. “Yeah, you did.”

           “What?” you ask when the corner of his mouth twitches.

           “I’m just now remembering something Sol said.”

           “And what did Sol say?”

           “She caught me watching you one night and you know her. She got everything out of me. When I told her I wasn’t going to say anything, she told me impossible things have a way of happening anyway. Guess she was right.”

           “Sol’s always right,” you giggle. “I’m really glad this wasn’t her exception.”

           “Me too. So… why didn’t you say anything?”

           “Well, at first it was because I didn’t want you thinking I was trying to take advantage of you or something and you were still getting your life together; you didn’t need a relationship to complicate that even more. Then, I just didn’t want to risk losing you.” It’s a relief to get it all out, like a flood finally released from a dam.

           “I didn’t want to lose you either. You’re one of my best friends.” Chanyeol tentatively reaches out to outline your face with a finger. “Guess I’m lucky I’m in love with my best friend.”

           “Lucky by Jason Mraz and Colbie Caillat.”

           He laughs and tugs you into his arms, rubbing his cheek against your hair. Your hands slide behind his back and curl up to his shoulders, your leg hooking around Chanyeol’s hip to bring him closer. His tail brushes your calf as it gleefully thumps against the mattress.

           “You remembered,” he says.

           “You only play it like every other day,” you retort.

           “I do not.”

           “Okay, maybe it’s one of my favorites to hear you play then.”

           “I’ll play it every single day if you want.”

           Laughing and shaking your head, you wiggle enough to tilt your head back and look at his face. “You could play anything and I’d love it.”

           “Anything? Even ‘It’s a Small World’?” Chanyeol grins playfully and squeezes you. He starts singing, “It’s a small world after all, it’s-”

           His voice goes immediately silent when you press your lips against his again. But you become as lost in the kiss as he is, the leisurely rhythm of it more addictive than any song you’ve heard. Pressed against his warmth, sinking into it. When you sluggishly pull away, his eyes are still closed, mouth slightly parted.

           “Any song but that one,” you whisper lightly.

           Chanyeol’s lips slowly curve in a smile and his eyes open at the same speed like a lazy dog waking up from a nap in the sunshine. His fingers tap a beat against your spine. “I think one’s coming to me right now. If I’d known kissing you would be conducive to my composing, I’d have done it a long time ago.”

           “Then kiss me again.”

           Chanyeol is humming when your lips meet again, some melody that’s new and exciting and somehow, it’s already your new favorite song.

[trbldyouth]

Rewatching '80's Cinema In An Era Of #metoo & Cancel Culture

The interview was conducted with Samantha from the movie Sixteen Candles (1984).

Interviewer: Hello, Samantha?

Samantha: Hey, how are you?

Interviewer: I am good; you look stunning today must say life is treating you quite well.

(Soft chuckle) Sure I have been up and about since life keeps changing, and we all need to grow.

Interviewer: Mmhh. That is so true, and I relate because last I saw you, you were busy eyeing Jake. (Soft chuckles) So how is the romance? 

Samantha: Well, honestly speaking. We all know those teenage crushes rarely lead to anything serious in the future. However, I am a happy mum of two and cannot complain.

Interviewer: How's Hollywood been treating you? I understand things can be rough at times when family comes into the picture?

Samantha: Honestly, life right now in Hollywood is more friendly compared to our times. Women have become more focused and are ready to step into the roles of leading characters and many significant roles as the need arises. During my heydays, it was simply difficult to get pregnant and keep your acting job. I see all the special effects and other forms of technology being used in the film industry at the moment and recognize how things have changed. A-list actors have become so phenomenal that they will engage in a project and have stunt doubles to play their role in case of mishaps. These simple pleasures really make it quite the era in the industry, and I feel blessed to have witnessed this transition.

Interviewer: I reckon since you were 16, you have seen so much significant change even in social stratification.

Samantha: That is true. People have developed so many eccentricities that were initially taboo. Simple pleasures like women smoking and engaging in frivolous activity were shunned, but people are becoming more liberal with ideas and how they view society. Standards that were set for relationships and marriage seem to have died overnight, and with the increasing drive for the LGBTQ, community change keeps coming. I must admit, I had a difficult time with the realization that I was different and how it kept affecting my life.

Interviewer: What do you mean by different?

Samantha: I have been in a fruitful and fulfilling relationship with my partner Sheila for 20 years. I was castigated for so long by my peers, family, and friends for my life choices. I was so lost in trying to live the fairy tale life I never took a moment to really evaluate my life. However, college life opened my eyes to endless possibilities and leaving home gave me a chance to really morph into the real me. Sheila has been my rock for so long and allowed me to see how there was so much more to life than I initially thought. It took time to convince my family, but with the evolution of the civil rights movement into other global movements, I am grateful that same-sex couples get a chance to live their lives in peace. I have always found it essential to advocate for happiness. That's why I make a point of living a modest life despite the allure of having a flashy life of glamour.  Think with time priorities do change.

Interviewer: Speaking of priorities, what is your view on stereotypes in film associated with women?

Samantha: Well, this really takes me back to a time when women were considered ornamental, and there was not much substance used to quantify them beyond physique. Films in the 80s have glamorized issues that society frowns upon today that would make you cringe. Think about sexual harassment, adversity to the LGBTQ community, body shaming, social slurs, and body shaming. I have been at the receiving of all these, unfortunately, and have lived to tell the tale. I know so many of my friends and family who are mentally unwell or have lost their lives to these behaviors that society considered acceptable back then. Women are the recipients of so much hate and have always been considered as ornamental and as items to be objectified. Jake may have been in a bad relationship, but sadly I realized he had been the problem all along. His demeanor and approach to treating women opened up my eyes and made me realize I was not willing to put up with fake love if I may use the term.

Interviewer: Speaking of Jake and the issues of harassment. What is your take on the #Metoo movement?

Samantha: Tarana Burke, is God-sent and I pray that she understands how this world is a better place because of her decision to give a voice to the voiceless. I wish the #Metoo movement existed in time because so many people would have answered for so many of their heinous crimes. Alyssa Milano is quite the pioneer, and targeting Hollywood, and the film industry has given rise to so many positives. Men and women have actually come forward and shared stories of their suffering. It has been difficult for sexual violence victims to find a platform to share their experiences and have their perpetrators brought to justice.

Interviewer: I understand that. I have been following keenly as well. What do you believe has been the core of these problems?

Samantha: I firmly believe that systemic ills have been the core of the ills plaguing society. Essentially, people were allowed to be bigots, misogynists, and homophobes during my early days. The reason was that everyone was okay with it because the majority said so. However, people felt oppressed and fought back, and now we have so many issues that need correction. Admittedly, bringing attention to an issue does not guarantee justice and reprieve for all victims. However, it is a start, and, in the end, change will be evident. Consider the Black Lives Matter movement that has been championing the rights of African Americans. People are yet to meet them halfway, and with continued incidents of police brutality and discrimination, it is possible they have a long way to go to achieve their vision.

Interviewer: On that note, how has the rising Cancel Culture trend impacted you?

Samantha: Haha, I believe I will get crucified for this, but I find it quite refreshing and expedient in remodeling society. Don't get me wrong, the idea of censoring and denying someone their fundamental freedom is abhorrent. Still, people should learn to value morality as a society. Taking in just about anything that is produced as content for TV and film will only diminish the critical values that define society. I don't need to tell you to switch off the TV when content is inappropriate but recognize the value of choice. Cancel culture taken back to my time would be the end of so many films. I personally have TV shows that I would cancel, but we are all free to do as we see fit. I hope I don't get you canceled, too (loud laughter).

Interviewer: I believe we are safe; the evolution of social media uses keeps us visible to all. Moving on swiftly, tell me how is your social life, or rather how has it evolved?

Samantha: I bet you will laugh at me. I am still trying to figure out how to tweet and post on Facebook and seriously miss MySpace. I tend to avoid social media and have stuck to actually interacting with people in person rather than behind a screen. Sheila gets on my nerves because she insists I keep learning, but I am not interested in any of it. Life was really hectic in the 80s and has gotten much easier with technology. However, as I pointed out, content matters a lot, and from the extent, I have seen even presidents get to on social media, I better keep myself offline. I know it sounds sad, but I prefer it compared to the digital noise that is pushing so many to seek unattainable lives.

Interviewer: Well, to me, that sounds like an excuse to get stuck in an era that is already gone!

Samantha: As I said, it sounds crazy, but I am very picky with what I choose to adopt. I have a TV, but my kids know how strict I get with enforcing regulations with viewing. I am from an age where I understand the influence of toxicity, and I am not willing to see my children get engulfed in a superficial perception of reality. I thank God for my partner Sheila because she always supports me. She understands where I am coming from and has grown also to enjoy the liberty of embracing proper moderated content for our kids. If we are in the house, we need to be in the living watching something together without worrying about what might happen.

Interviewer: So, what have you been holding onto from your early days as a teen?

Samantha: I have some old mixtapes I listen to whenever I want to get into the groove. I also keep vinyl records of Luther Vandross because his music speaks to my soul in a unique way. Plus, I still own an iPod since my daughter broke my cd Walkman (giggles).

Interviewer: I must admit this has been quite the journey, and I understand you will be featuring in a short film showcasing societal prejudice?

Samantha: Actually, yes, it's a documentary feature, and it will be releasing in the summer of next year. I have come full circle and find myself in the spotlight, and all I hope is that my story will inspire someone else. I realize the world has so much noise, and it is essential to have some peace and quiet to ensure we remain on the right track.

Interviewer: Your life has been quite the movie of sorts, and I hope you have enjoyed the experiences and you will do more going forward. Any final words before we wind up this interview?

Samantha: Sure, I am looking forward to all life has to offer and what I can offer others. My final thoughts would be to urge those in power to recognize those they serve, let people respect the rights of others, and always consider yourself in a similar situation before engaging in that life-altering act.

Interviewer: Thank you so much for your time, Samantha. I wish you well in your endeavors.

[serkewen12]

Something There Part 7

Annnnnd I’m back! Here we go lovelies! I really hope you enjoy and I’m so sorry about the long wait!

Pairing: Thomas Jefferson x Reader

Word Count: 3431 (I know it’s shorter than normal, it felt like the right place to end the chapter)

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five) (Part Six)

Tag List: @imagineham @musicalmoriarty @la-frenchiest-frite @imaginebeinghamiltrash @wolfphantom-m @daveedish @shamagangster @secretschuylersister @love-doesnt-discriminate @icanneverbesatisfied @getupoffathathang @withthatbitch @marquiis-de-la-baguette @consumed-by-musicals @drugsdiggs @hamfan22 @lawliette1031 @hamfamhamfam @y-lue @chloehamiltonn @patron-saintof-sluts @hanakatsumi @americanrevelation @ginnemer @mofoing-democraftic-republican @stone0502 @merrahonthawall @miightymiighty @mysterywriter36 @iknowthekoolaidflavor @lafislife @canadian-hufflepuff @librarychild @gingerpatchkidd @kimmy-h-life @imreallyfredweasley @parksxo @ccecode @spn-applepie-imagines-deactivat @panromantic-rose @axreblogs @thepaddyb @thats-so-riah @fangirl11032001 @nadialinett14 @cookiepie111 @stress-and-obsess @louisianaspell @herfirstrefrain @astudentsnightmare @secretfanficreader @pumpkjnspjcebreeze @sangshit @thatpunkrockfandomchick

Angelica had never left an event so quickly in her life. Lafayette nodded with understanding as she had kissed his cheek before hailing a cab. Angelica called (Y/N)'s phone multiple times with no response, she tossed her phone in her bag with an angry huff.

"Damn it! What the hell happened back there? I'm sorry but can you please drive a little faster? This is an emergency."

When the cab pulled up in front of the Schuyler home she rushed up the walk way and when she reached the porch she stopped in her tracks. (Y/N) was sitting on the top step with her knees pulled up to her chest with tears cascading down her cheeks. She was slowly pulling bobby pins from her hair and throwing them into the yard. 

"Oh sweetie..." Angie said as she slowly approached her. (Y/N) jumped and quickly started wiping the tears off her face. 

"Angie! I'm sorry... I didn't want to go home. I knew he would go there to look for me. I'll pick up the bobby pins," she said as she started to stand up.

"You sure as hell will not," Angelica snapped," Come on let's go inside and get you cleaned up."

You followed Angelica into the living room and sat on her couch. You stared at you hands as she sat next to you and looked you over. You must have looked like a disaster, mascara running all over you face and your hair half out of the up-do Peggy had worked so hard on. You felt your bottom lip start to quiver and a familiar burn in the corners of your eyes as tears threatened to start flowing again. No... no... no more tears. 

"What happened? You ran out of there so fast and did I see you slap Thomas?" Angie questioned.

"Alex was right about everything," you whispered.

"What the hell are you talking about? What do you mean Alex was right?"

"About Thomas..."

"What did I tell you about letting Alex ruin this for you girl? Thomas..."

"THOMAS DOESN'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT ME!" 

Angelica jumped back slightly at your outburst. You took a shaky breath to calm yourself down.

"I heard him," you whispered, "I heard what he said to Aaron. He told... he told him that he needed to be quiet because he had worked so hard to earn my trust and then he told him that he would use me in any way that he pleased..."

Angelica gasped and wrapped her arm around your shoulders tightly as your tears started flowing again.

"I'm so stupid Angie... I just... can I stay here for awhile?"

"Consider it done. I'll go get the spare room set up and grab you some pajamas."

Angelica hurried up the stairs to find you a change of clothes leaving you to wallow in your thoughts. Your phone buzzed continuously in your bag causing you to frown as you fished it out. Texts from Alexander, Hercules, Lafayette, and Thomas were coming in over and over. Asking you what happened, asking where you had went, if you were okay, and the ones from Thomas begged you to let him explain and to answer your phone. You had ten missed calls. As you held it your phone lit up with an incoming call. Thomas. You glared at the screen and swiped to red circle and quickly shut your phone off then tossed it across the couch.

You slowly made your way up the stairs and found Angelica finishing making the bed in the spare bedroom. She looked at you and gave you a small smile, which you tried your best to return. 

"Eliza is on her way home and she will most likely have Alex with her," Angie said with concern.

"I don't want to see him. I don't want to see any of them. I don't want to hear all the "I told you so's"," you said as you sat down on the bed. 

"I will make sure that he leaves you alone. Here are some pajamas, just lay down and get some rest," she said as she left.

Angelica had successfully kept the boys at bay with a lot of help from Eliza. You didn't wake up until almost noon the next day. All of the crying and stress had collapsed down upon you and when you woke up your body felt stiff and heavy. Quietly you made you way across the hall into the bathroom, not wanting to alert the sisters that you were awake because you didn't feel like talking to anyone. Looking into the mirror you let out a small sigh. You had mascara smudged half way across your face, your hair was tangled and sticking out in all directions, your eyes were still red and puffy, and you knew you were going to have dark circles after scrubbing off the make up. I'm a mess.

Stepping into the shower you winced as the water stung your skin. You had turned it up higher than you usually did but your aching body needed it. The water running against your skin brought the smallest amount of relief. The lump in your throat was starting to return as you rinsed the shampoo from your hair. 

"I'm not going to cry...I'm not," you whispered to yourself.

Your mantra had failed and you sank to sit in the tub and let the water wash over you. A million questions swirled in your brain. 

"How could I let this happen? Damn it I promised myself I would keep my guard up..." you seethed through your tears.

You sat in silence as you thought over the events from the last three months. How did he manage to weasel his way into your heart so effortlessly. Then again this is my fault... I was the one who thought it would be funny to prove Laf wrong. Who's laughing now? That son of a bitch most likely. No matter how many times you thought over every dinner, every meeting, every text message, he had never shown a single sign. Now it was too late and the damage was done. I love him.

"I was ready... this was supposed to be it. I wanted to tell him," you sobbed. 

You thought about how you had defended yourself and your relationship with Thomas to your friends. They had been so against it and angry, sure they had said they were going to give him a chance, but you knew better. I bet they can't wait to tell me how they were right about him. Alex and his smug grin he gets whenever he is right floated through your mind and it made your scowl. Alex knew you were in love with Thomas and you didn't want to think about what he might say to you now. 

Thomas's voice echoed in your head, all the nice things he had ever said, his laugh, that tone he got when he was alone and only talking to you. You willed yourself to forget all the things that had seemed so sincere, all the things he had said that made your heart race. You tried to will yourself to hate him, but instead you found yourself hating how much you loved him even after what had happened. 

"What do I have to do (Y/N)? How can I ever make you see?" 

"You don't have anything to apologize for." 

"You called me Thomas. You've never called me Thomas before."

"Listen to me, you are going to look amazing. You are the most beautiful person I've ever seen."

"Maybe I should talk to him... let him explain. No, no, no this is exactly the kind of bullshit thinking that lead me to trust him in the first place. He showed me his true colors and there isn't anything else I need to hear," you scold yourself. I love him. Loved him... no... no matter how much I try... I love him.

It had been three days and you had still refused to turn your phone on or talk to anyone except for Angelica, Eliza, and Peggy. Angie and Eliza had been doing everything they could to help comfort you. They had run off Hercules and Alexander again this afternoon. Peggy on the other hand was ready to commit homicide.

"I'm serious (Y/N) I've watch a lot of 48 Hours Hard Evidence and I'm pretty confident that I could get away with it," Peggy said between bites of ice cream.

"I don't want Thomas dead," you said quietly.

"Why? He deserves it for what he did! I can't believe him," Peggy complained.

"Because I love him Peg. Damn it.. loved him. Who was it that said I was crazy for being worried? Who was it that said Thomas would never do anything when I said I was worried? Oh that's right it was you!" 

"I know and I'm sorry."

"I need to go home," you said.

"Why? I thought you wanted to stay here until you were ready."

"I need my own clothes," you mutter, "I don't really want to leave... but I need my stuff if I'm going to stay here."

"I can go get you some of your stuff," Eliza said as she came into the living room.

Eliza had been gone for almost an hour. You were beyond thankful to her for offering to go get you your things. She had taken a list your wrote out and promised to do her best to find everything. When you offered to go with her she insisted you sit back down and relax. Peggy had gotten up and headed upstairs leaving you alone in the living room. You flipped through the channels on the television and stopped on The Food Network. Masterchef was on, usually seeing one of your favorite shows would have brought a smile on your face, but not today. You frowned as memories of all the times Thomas and you had lounged on the couch and debated about the contestants. Quickly switching the t.v. off you put the remote down and crossed your arms and focused on the flames dancing in the fireplace.

"He's even ruining my favorite show," you lamented.

"Hey (Y/N) I'm back," Eliza said as she walked in pulling a rolling suitcase behind her.

"Thanks so much," you reply gratefully as you sat up.

You started digging through the bag looking for a new pair of pajama pants and Eliza slowly sank down onto the couch. There was an envelope in her hands and she looked nervous as she turned it in her hands.

"What's that?" You asked.

"It was stuck to your door when I got there," Eliza said carefully as she handed it to you.

Looking the envelope over you saw that it was blank and opened it, Thomas's handwriting was immediately recognizable. His elegant script was unmistakable as your eyes quickly scanned the beginning of the letter. The familiar lump in your throat returned as you read his plea for you to return his calls, to say anything just so he knew you were okay. He wants to know that I'm okay? How the fuck does he think I am?! The sound of paper crinkling as your hands tightened around the edges of the letter permeated the air. For the first time your despair gave way to anger as you shot off the couch and crossed the distance to the fireplace.

"(Y/N)?" Eliza questioned.

"That bastard wants to know if I'm okay? IF I'M OKAY?! HOW THE FUCK DOES HE THINK I'M GOING TO BE AFTER WHAT HAPPENED?" You shouted as you looked one last time at the letter before throwing it into the fire.

Eliza came up and stood next to you and watched as the paper curled in the flames and his carefully written words turned to ash. You trembled slightly as rage coursed through you.

"He thinks he can just write me a pretty letter and I'm going to come crawling back? Like that will erase what I heard him say..." 

Eliza nodded in agreement, "I hope that he burns."

The clock showed 8:20 am when you finished getting dressed. You knew you couldn't hide forever and you had to return to class. 

"I'm fine. It's going to be fine," you said to yourself.

Slowly you piled your textbooks and papers into your bag. You were forever grateful that Angelica had made sure that you knew the assignments you had missed over the last week and you were pleased that at the very least you weren't behind on homework. There was enough to worry about when you thought of returning to the university without having to be bogged down with past due work. You slipped on your flats and snagged your phone off the charger before heading down stairs.

Before you had made it halfway down the stairs you stopped when you heard Angelica's voice and she sounded irritated.

"I already told you not to come here Alex," Angelica snapped.

“I know, but I'm worried. She hasn't answered any calls or texts and now she has missed a whole week of school," Alex reasoned.

"We are all worried, but (Y/N) will come back to school when she is ready."

"At least let me see her so I can let the guys know how she is," he begged.

"I promised her that I would keep you all away..."

"It's okay Angelica," you said as you walked down the rest of the stairs.

Angelica turned around quickly and looked at the backpack in your hand and back to your face and frowned. She came over quickly and looked concerned.

"(Y/N) what are you doing?"

"I'm going to class today," you said simply and you spotted a smile spread across Alex's face.

"Are you sure? Honey it's okay to wait a bit longer. If you aren't ready, you shouldn't force yourself," she said.

You pulled her into a hug and walked towards Alex, "I'm not sure if I'm ready, but I am sure that hiding here isn't going to solve anything. I'll see you later Angie."

Alex walked beside you as you went down the street and seemed to be at war with himself trying to figure out what to say. 

"So..."

"So?" You questioned without looking at him.

"How are you?"

"How do you think I am Alexander," you deadpanned.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not exactly."

"Alright then..." Alexander trailed off.

Nervous energy coursed through you as you walked closer and closer to the door of your first class. Alexander hadn't left your side for the entire journey across the campus. Slowly as you walked into the classroom you were almost scared to look up at the row where you knew Thomas sat. He was always there early, being the damn over achiever that he was.

"Well at least you won't have to stress about homework," Alex said cheerfully, "You're welcome by the way."

"Oh please what do you want? A metal? We both know Eliza rode your ass about making sure to tell her what the assignments were," you groused.

"That's beside the point," he argued as he pulled out his notebooks.

As you pulled out your books you turned and threw a tentative glance over your shoulder. Thomas's desk was empty, but it didn't take you long before you made eye contact with James. He tried to give you a sympathetic look, but you only glared before willing back around. A frown marred your features as you stared at your desk and mulled over Thomas's absence, it was a relief if you were being honest, but at the same time the familiar feeling of concern was trying to weasel it's way into your head. Thomas wasn't one to miss classes, even when he was sick he was usually there looking like death warmed over. No, nope, it doesn't matter. (Y/N) pull yourself together... he just broke your heart, he doesn't deserve an ounce of your concern.

"I had to present our debate project all by myself!" Alexander ranted dramatically as you both sat at your normal lunch table with Hercules and John.

"Oh please, it's not like you don't love to show off," you scoffed earning a laugh from Herc.

"Yeah Alexander, you are basically the biggest mouth in the school, I highly doubt you had an issue debating all on your own," Herc said.

"Soooo what was the outcome of the debate?" You asked throwing Alex a look.

"I won of course."

"Then what the hell are you bitching for?"

"Because I can," Alex complained.

You rolled your eyes and dipped your fries into ketchup. Alexander spoke quickly as he gave a play by play of how the debate had gone. John shook his head as Alex waved his arms as he angrily complained about being insulted. 

"Where is Thomas? I noticed he wasn't in class today," you commented absentmindedly.

Looking up from your food you saw all three men staring at you looking surprised.

"Who gives a shit," Herc bit out.

"Yeah (Y/N) why does it matter?" Alex asked.

"I don't know. I guess I was just thinking out loud..." Why did I say that? 

You frowned at the fact that you couldn’t stop thinking about him after everything that had happened. In the back of your mind the phrase surfaced again, you love him. God damn it!

"Well you won't have to worry about him, " Hercules commented, "I had a little discussion with him about staying away from you if he knows what's good for him."

"Are you serious?" You snapped.

"Oh shit..." John said. "What?" 

John pointed behind Alex and you felt yourself stop breathing for a moment. Thomas was standing not far off staring at the table like he had seen a ghost. James was standing next to him and looked concerned as he realized you had seen them. You tried to pull the best glare you could muster but it just wasn't working. You weren't ready. He was standing there with that magenta sweater you loved so much and sadness marred his handsome face. You felt a hand on your arm and quickly looked away and saw John holding out a napkin. Your plan to be strong had crumbled and tears were flowing freely instead of the glare you so desperately wanted to send his way. 

"I need to go," you said in a rush as you grabbed all your things.

"(Y/N) wait!" 

You ignored them as you rushed away from the table and towards the street to head home. You wanted to crawl into a hole and stay there. I wasn't ready... Angrily you wiped away tears as you headed towards Angelica's.

"(Y/N)!" 

James's voice rang out behind you and you prayed that he was at least alone. You didn't want to face Thomas and look weak. Stopping and slowly turning around you felt a small amount of relief when you saw him by himself hurrying to catch up to you. He began to cough a bit as he finally reached you and you reached out concerned that he was going to have an attack.

"James what are you doing?"

"I... I had to talk to you," he said as he calmed his breathing.

"I don't want to hear it," you snapped and began walking again. I know it isn't his fault... but then again how the fuck can I know that he didn't know what Thomas was up too. They are best friends after all.

"Please! Please hear me out," he pleaded, "You need to talk to him! He is a wreck! I've never seen him like this..."

You felt something snap as you whipped around and shoved a finger into James's chest, "OH HE'S A WRECK? HE IS A WRECK? WHAT ABOUT ME JAMES?!"

James shrunk back slightly, "I know what he said hurt you and he is an idiot, but I think there is more to what..."

"NO! There isn't a damn thing more to what happened! I should go talk to him? I don't fucking think so."

"He is miserable. He has barely leaves his house! I don't know what to do," he said desperately.

"Well he should of fucking thought about that before he did what he did! He can go to hell! The both of you can just go to hell!" You shouted as hot new tears streamed down your face before storming away leaving James staring at the ground.

[letsplayscrabble-blog]

feels like the first time. [ch. 3]

author's note: hi all, thank you from the bottom of my heart for your continued support of this writing. now that introductions are out of the way we can start in on the story a bit and though i have ideas up my sleeve i'd love to hear what you guys want to see! as always, leave me a review and let me know what you think. enjoy (: [@halsteadpd]

"Just a beer whenever you get a second," she heard the blue-eyed man remark before the door of the kitchen had swung closed behind her and she assumed the kind-hearted old man was back out and bullshitting with the lot of them while the burgers were grilling up, finding much more enjoyment in the company the soldiers brought along with them than her grunts and occasional nod of the head whenever he would attempt to strike up a conversation with her bedraggled self. Truth be told, she couldn't really blame him. The only human interaction she was accustomed to anymore were the drunk screeches of her mother if she ever wandered home or the foul groans of a man she'd just sold and offered her body up to.

Erin Lindsay was now left with a dilemma, however, as the soldiers were seated far too close to the old man for her liking and she silently cursed herself because she'd forgotten to ask where he kept the mop because he was getting old and forgetful and it varied from day to day but there wasn't a chance in hell she was about to let herself be seen by a single one of their prying eyes again. The one in front had caused her to lose her nerve for a fraction of a second, not liking the way his eyes found her face and her eyes and the puffiness and the bags because let's be honest she hadn't had more than a few hours of sleep a night for the past three years because the towels she snatched out of the laundromat from some nearly blind old lady one lazy afternoon didn't really serve as blankets in the winter and the bricks near the dumpster of a deep-dish style pizza joint didn't really serve well as a pillow.

She began to fidget with the string on her sleeve again, resisting the urge to yank on it and to maybe let out a harsh chuckle as it came further apart, a perfect metaphor for her life because it'd been three years out on the streets and all she'd done for herself was find a kind old geezer who probably wouldn't be around for much longer to give her a meal and sometimes she had a wad of cash big enough to buy a warm cup of coffee for a few mornings and if she was lucky a new pair of jeans from the Goodwill for approximately thirty-two cents but she was getting tired and fed up and more than once she'd thought about reaching out to Hank and taking her chances and maybe sending up a quick prayer because that damn prep school had taught her something at least, but she had a sinking and a sick feeling that her luck had run out with him and he could still bust her and put her into prison for years because she'd broken their deal but at this point maybe a cell and her own cot and the putrid smell of a toilet were all she was gonna get in this lifetime and maybe she had to learn to be okay with that.

"Oh, this isn't the bathroom?"

Erin whirled, her fiery hazel eyes landing on those damn beautiful blue ones belonging to the dimwit that had just sauntered in through the kitchen door, knowing without a doubt that this wasn't the bathroom because she was going to believe the best in him for a second and presume he could tell the difference between a stove and a shitter.

"I don't know why you sound so surprised," she shot back, the steadiness of her voice catching her off guard a bit because being alone in the room with a person of the opposite sex had never gone smoothly for her over the course of her twenty-one years of living and even though he didn't strike her as her typical cliental she had learned not to trust men a long time ago and this beautiful one wasn't going to change the sudden sinking of her stomach as he moved a step closer. Her eyes darted off to the right, trying to find even a fucking spatula to use as a weapon because she was well aware of the muscles more than likely rippling underneath that uniform of his but damn it she wasn't going to let him do what he wanted to her without a fight.

"I don't know why you look like you're about to piss yourself," he replied smoothly, holding up his hands to show her he had picked up on her body language and picked up on the fact that him moving closer to her wasn't going to do anything for either one of them. Expect maybe work in her favor because he was fairly certain he'd be walking away from the encounter with fingernail scratches all over his cheeks and probably down his arms if he made another single movement in her direction because she looked that ferocious and deadly and if it weren't for the darting of her eyes and the way she took one, tiny small step backwards with her left foot he wouldn't have even been able to tell that she was afraid in the first place.

"Fuck off," she growled, though she was thankful he'd stopped moving closer because she'd run out ideas and had landed on her best bet of screaming and biting and maybe thrashing until he let her go and she could get the hell out of dodge but he looked too strong and too built for that idea to get her very far so she'd also settled on the fact that she was going to have to let him do whatever it was he needed to do do her before splashing cold water all over herself from the sink to give her the false sense of being clean then slipping out the front door without finishing her french fries.

His perfect eyes widened then, maybe in offense, maybe in shock, but she had a feeling it was the latter. He probably had this idea stuck in his head from his suburban childhood and adolescence and his prim and proper mother that women needed to be gentle and soft and not rough around the edges and downright repugnant like she was. He probably had this idea that women weren't quite this ghastly and hideous and revolting but she wasn't going to apologize for shattering his fantasies because with eyes like that he could've landed about six women down the street at Molly's by now but here he was in the middle of an exchange with her.

She was worse than the villagers back in Afghanistan, he had decided while his eyes discreetly studied her as he could feel her doing the same. She was worse because she showed not an ounce of curiosity or trust or anything really towards another and at least they gave the soldiers a chance when they came around asking questions and at least they didn't look like they were about to pounce and recoil and then strike again and he was also sure she was worse because at least those people had each other to lean on and depend on and stand with when it all went to shit and this girl had absolutely no one except herself and he had a feeling it had been a long and dark path for her to end up at this point.

"Did you need something?" He heard her counter, snapping out of his inappropriate thought process because who the hell really cared about this stranger of a woman he met in a bar back in his hometown who he was more than likely never going to see again. So what if her hazel eyes were the most exquisite he had ever seen? So what if he was desperately lonely and craving the affectionate touch of another and so what if he just wanted to reach out and graze the pad of his finger across her cheekbone just to see what she would do? Nine months of being in a dark hole of death and obscurity could really damage a person and Jay Halstead was certain he was certifiably insane but he wanted to keep talking to her and he was going to take a shot in the dark here and see if he could get her to stick around because he was pretty certain he knew what she did for a living.

"Yeah. Whatever it is you're selling," he shot back and he couldn't stop a corner of his mouth from turning up in a grin at the sight of her bewilderment because she wasn't able to get a handle on it quick enough.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Erin hissed, her eyes blazing in the soldier's direction because he had figured her out in a matter of a mere three minutes. Then again she wasn't going to give him that much credit because she still had her pride and in some other life where she was wearing pearls around her neck and swinging a Kate Spade purse on her wrist if she saw herself from the outside looking in at this very instant with her ripped up jeans and her sopping wet off brand fur boots and her bedraggled Cubs sweatshirt as a winter coat but most importantly the puffiness of her eyes and the sallow look of her cheeks she would've pegged herself as a dealer too. Or at the very least someone who had been using. She watched him raise an eyebrow and she found herself digging into her pocket because hell, she'd already made a decent sized wad today but what was one more customer and maybe she'd get that bottle of red wine after all. "One-fifty. For this baggie and for me giving up a half hour of my day to let you entertain yourself." She'd flipped a switch so she was the version of herself that she absolutely couldn't stomach in a matter of two seconds, the dirty girl who sold drugs on the street to get by and the one who sold her body for money because she may not trust men but they were all hungry for that feeling of power they only found when fucking a woman who didn't protest and who pretended to enjoy herself and she wasn't going to discriminate if this guy was willing to join them.

He watched her dangle the plastic between her thumb and her pointer finger of her right hand, all traces of decency he had found speckled in her hazel orbs as he had been staring at her disappearing because now she was doing what she did best and he hated how angry it made him feel that she had to do this to survive but normally he wouldn't have a problem with taking a woman up on her offer to sleep with him because all he really wanted to do was numb himself and alcohol and another body and a quick lay were the only way he really knew how to do it. But this instance, this tiny and fierce woman standing before him and offering herself up to him at a price pissed him off and he found the eruptive and uncontrollable anger his father had passed down to him rising in his throat and it was then he took a few long strides to cross the room and snatch it from her, silently agreeing to her proposition although he already had an idea formulating in his head and there wasn't a chance in hell she was going to find out about it before he got her exactly where he wanted her.

Her feet remained firmly planted in position as the soldier moved closer to her because she already felt disgusting enough and if he wanted to get the show on the road already she wasn't going to put up much of a fight because in these instances that was never a wise decision. But he simply took the bag of pills and pulled out his wallet from his back pocket, handing her the ridiculously overpriced total without so much as a second glance before extending his hand for her to shake.

"Jay Halstead."

She raised an eyebrow without really acknowledging his outstretched fingers before slipping past him towards the restaurant and past his friends who began to hoot and holler as he emerged from the kitchen behind her obviously well into their hard liquor for the night but could she really blame them because she'd never known war but it had to be pretty fucked up and terrifying and it made sense they'd want to forget about what they'd done and what they'd witnessed a lot like she wanted to forget about her sad excuse of a life and what she and Jay were on their way to do.

The cold air hit her harder than she liked and as he let the damn bell ding again and the door close behind him he also caught a glimpse of her shiver but he bit his tongue and kept his comment to himself because this girl was ferocious and he didn't want her bolting because when it came down to it she was probably the most genuine company he'd had in nearly a year and he'd only been speaking to her for six minutes. She cast a questioning glance over her shoulder at him then and he was struck once more at how breathtakingly beautiful she was under the smeared eyeliner and the grey tinge of her skin and he couldn't help but wonder why she kept doing this to herself because he obviously wasn't her first customer.

"Follow me," he commanded and she found herself trailing after Jay Halstead's footsteps in the snow and biting back a few tears because she was already dreading having to ruin the way she felt about his dazzling blue eyes and the slight hope she'd had that he was different from the rest.

[lifeareyouthere]

A Love Letter to Langley

This is not intended to aid child predators. This is the prattles of someone who over thinks and as too much free time. None of this is to taken seriously.

If there was one person who’s attention Yaniv did not want it was his own personal stalker. Am I calling Langley Resident a stalker? No. But in the twisted, and diseased minds of Yaniv and Mrs. Yaniv that’s exactly what they have. An ever present set of evil eyes with ears that record their “private” meltdowns to share with the world. A guilty conscious doesn't like to lose control of their own information. LR knows this and has taken upon themselves to take the bullshit they endure from these two neighbors and publish to makes sure the one thing a cockroach needs is taken from them. So since Yaniv is too busy lubing tampons to solve this little mystery I thought I’d Nancy Drew it myself.

Now I do not live in Canada. I’ve never visited Canada. I grew up thinking Canada was the hat of the states, so I have very little background to work with. I have google, some posts, and an over active mind. Yet somehow, I feel I could get closer to the facts than Yaniv who has dissolved into taking pictures of neighbors, harassing them and shouting, “Meow!” at everyone. A real Sherlock that one. 

Let’s start with looks. At this point it’s impossible to tell. Any photos that might be them are marked as being from other sources. However, Yaniv has some strong opinions about who’s worthy of sharing the same elevator with them and who’s not. Because of Yaniv’s very public racism we can assume LR is white. It’s the only appearance that Yaniv blocks out as part of the background. White is normal, nothing to take note of. If they had any kind of color they would be the source of Yaniv’s poor jokes, and would raise Yaniv’s suspicions.

Following that logic of Yaniv’s blindness we can assume they are older than what are “trans-activist” likes. LR’s first and only avatar is a perfect picture of  Edna Krabappel(more to follow about that), it’s a still from the show back when it was hand drawn, and by the off colors of it I’d place it sometime before season 7 of The Simpsons. This says that this person it older than 25, as younger than that would not be as interested in the character and the hand drawn look isn’t a turn off. Many of the younger set can’t stand the rough look and inconsistent colors. I’m willing to bet that the quality of the still didn’t even register when it was chosen because that’s what this person grew up with. They were more concerned with the emotion being conveyed. My bet is that this person is closer to 30 as they use early internet short hand, but still try to maintain proper writing structure on twitter. A battle many dismiss.  Is it possible that they are an older adult tired of a man-child’s tantrums? Yes. Nothing they’ve done shows any great skill with technology. Someone with a phone, and a dream. But science as proven the older you are, the less of a damn you give. Just look at Mrs. Yaniv, she’s forgone underwear for as long as I’ve known her. Even with the Yaniv’s violent outbursts I doubt an older person would have the patience for all this tip-toeing anon shit. (I long for the day an old stands up during one of those meetings and tells the Yaniv’s to shut up, and get out or they can find some where else to live.) There’s also my suspicion that LR works with a close group of friends on the internet.  The Meow Mix blog has shots of Yaniv bragging on twitter that he was able to get 2 numbers of LR’s cellphone number (great work, you win,). MM refers to them as “A gang” and continues referring to themselves as a group. https://jymeowmix.wordpress.com/2020/01/01/worlds-worst-tech-guru-tries-to-hack-the-meow-mix/  And with MM having a similar writing voice to LR and the number of similar twitter accounts using the idea of living near Yaniv I think it’s safe to say LR is indeed working with 3 or more people in efforts to document and organize information so the world can see exactly what type and degree of fuck up Yaniv is. I don’t know about you, but the last gang of boomer I met hung out in dead Quake forums, and they knew nothing of lolcows.

Now some more solid facts. LR has a car. We know that because they tweeted about being at “Brown’s” the same time as Yaniv. Using the old Google, I can see a Mary Brown’s Chicken & Tater’s just off the highway that runs behind where they live. It’s not a walk-able distance, and the highway makes it unsafe for foot traffic despite the homeless camps. Chicken & Tators sounds right up Yaniv’s alley, so I don’t think my assumption that this is the location in question is far off.

LR is Canadian. This is duh, but I believe they were born and raised in Canada. In tweet wishing Yaniv a lovely day they use the words “chequing account.” My French was sent tingling. In the States we spelling it, checking. So this person was raised in the land of hockey lovers.  

Now we get to the pure speculation portion.

The profile.

If we return to LR’s avatar it’s good ole Edna K standing in front of the chalkboard looking disgusted and tired. A teacher who has seen it all and not amused by the antics a child who acts up to hide the fact they cannot understand the material they’ve been given. I feel this is how LR feels about Yaniv in general. Withe him you go through a cycle, first confusion, then disgust, followed by rage, then disbelief, and finally to settle on he’s is nothing more than a man child who craves attention because they have nothing else in their life. A girlfriend requires work and showering. A job requires work, and showering. Being a role model requires work and showering. All things Yaniv doesn’t want to do. It’s easy to smear on lipstick, slam his unwashed balls on the counter at Starbucks and demand coffee, then screech discrimination on twitter about his trans-rights being butt hurt and get a gift card. If it wasn’t for the fact that Yaniv wants to kidnap a child and brainwash her into thinking tampons are sexy, and limp, smelly, pencil dicks are all a woman can hope for, I doubt LR would have reason enough to do any of this. Despite their obvious disdain for Yaniv and Mrs. Yaniv, they post very little besides what a neighbor would have to deal with. They don’t post their pranks. They don’t leave things on Yaniv’s door. They leave stickers to warn kids, and record the Yaniv’s screaming at each other like the trailer trash they are.  Most people aren’t compelled to create a twitter account to complain about how their neighbor’s dog shits in their lawn on mowing day.

That being said, they do enjoy the trolling. By far LR and MM have gotten under Yaniv’s nut-sack like a reporter waiting to ask about the Elmo voice. It’s an honor not many hold as Yaniv wants the attention, but that that it’s not on his terms, and in a way he can’t bully to control it’s driving him up a wall. Poor thing. All he can do is film himself fingering his ass in his mom’s house in front of underage girls. Truly, MM and LR are terrors. How is our brave “Trans-activist” to live without going out to stalk around Justice so he can finger his ass in the dressing rooms?

And on a unrelated note. LR likes the elevator. Seems like they’re in there a lot. And Mary Brown’s is all southern comfort food. The kind that you eat when you hate yourself. It’s my favorite. So I would hazard that LR isn’t going to the gym, and is often very tired, either from a stressful job, insomnia, depression, or iron deficiency. It’s hard to get in their head because they are careful. Very careful. They know who they’re dealing with and moves according, taking advantage of weather and human nature to move. I would guess they wear something with large pockets or walks a dog that allows them to move at night with a bag or purse. It gets confusing as posts on MM aren’t clear what are supplied by LR.

If I could sit on a meeting I might be able to finger more closely who it could be by body language. But, I could be 1000% off. Honestly, I don’t care. I mostly wanted to prove I gave more thought to it than a pedo.

[edelgoth]

matchup commission

@irrationaljasmine thank you for commissioning me (and also for buying a ko-fi out of the goodness of your heart!!

thank you so, so much for being patient with me, and for being so understanding. i truly hope you enjoy this, and if there’s anything you’d like me to edit, explain, or add to, please let me know!! 

from the fire emblem three houses boys, i match you with...

ashe ubert!! 

i hope you’re okay with this, since he was the one i chose for your pba matchup!! but reading your extra info just makes me stick by it more ahaha

i also think he’s something of a middle-point between your two alternative matches?? i don’t know if that makes sense hhh

as i said in your first matchup, i think you two are quite similar in all the best ways; and that means that building a relationship would be pretty easy!! 

you’re both hardworking, kind and reliable, which are not only wonderful traits to have, but very important in building a relationship

you and ashe would definitely have a friendship before anything romantic happened, and you’d be very comfortable with each other before the question was even posed 

but i think ashe would like you off the bat, tbh; as i’ll expound upon earlier, you have a lot of traits that he admires, and he’d be really drawn to you because of that 

even though you can be shy and a little quieter, ashe’s supports show that he tends to notice the quieter types, and he tends to get along with them quite well

hell, even if you two weren’t to get into a romantic relationship, i think you and ashe are just so compatible that you’d end up close friends regardless 

i think that the friendship would soothe the shyness a bit (and the laughing)

but if you laugh at his jokes, he’ll adore you all the more for it 

and i headcanon ashe as a bit of a blusher too, so he’s going to be bright red, especially during the early days of your relationship

although, you can so much as compliment ashe and he breaks out in a full-body blush 

you’re both willing to stand up for what you care about and what you believe in, and especially when you defend your friends

honestly, i think you two would get a little starry-eyed whenever the other was standing up for their values; dare i say, couple goals?? 

ashe especially loves seeing that strong sense of justice he has reflected in you; he feels well understood, and like that little spark is well and alive in the world 

i think your values line up quite well?? and for ashe, that’s something integral for a relationship 

ashe is honestly the most encouraging partner you could ask for, and as i said in your first matchup, he’s the type to extol your virtues a lot

he wants you (and everyone else) to see yourself like he does, in all your wonder and beauty 

and he’s not shy about saying it!! his compliments are just so genuinely earnest, and you can tell that he means them from the bottom of his heart 

ashe would admire how hardworking you are, as it’s a virtue he wants to emulate himself

and as i mentioned last time too, he’d be grateful for the fact that you’re honest and tactful at the same time, because he seems to be the sort of person who always wants to improve 

so knowing that he could come to you for honest yet kind feedback would be something he’s very grateful for

he also deeply values your kindness; he thinks there should be more compassion in the world, and it warms his heart to see you practicing that 

i think both those traits in particular inspire him a little!! he feels this little bit of pride when he sees you being so wonderful, and that makes him want to do the same 

furthermore, you’d be very supportive of each other!! and it’s really delightful and adorable, and highlights the wholesomeness of your relationship 

you’d know that you could rely on ashe for anything, and he’d always have your back

ashe would adore the little notes you give loved ones, and he’d absolutely write them back; receiving one always warms his heart, and he wants to return that feeling to you 

i can imagine him keeping them in a little book or a little box, and whenever he was feeling down or defeated, he’d pull them out to help motivate him to keep going 

and honestly, i feel like the notes he’d write you would be quite poetic? he’s a big reader and all, so i’m sure he’s absorbed some of that 

he adores how you’re there for others, and would be your confidant; he wants to be there for you, partly because he loves you, partly because he sees how you support your friends

he’ll always be checking in with you and making sure that you’re feeling okay, and becomes an expert at reading your emotions tbh 

however, i think the more responsible and reliable side of your personality could ground him a little; it’s not that he’s doesn’t have those traits, it’s just that he can be a bit of a dreamer that has his head in the clouds 

this also couples nicely with your tendency to be more organized? essentially, i think you’ve got a nice mix of the idealist and the realist going on here

i can definitely see him making use of your tendency to use planners; he could honestly make use of them himself 

ashe is very patient and attentive, so hopefully that’d be very good with your anxiety

he’d be able to help you work through any cycles of overthinking, and i reckon he’d be a great grounding force 

and, as i said last time, he’s always there to offer a shoulder and a good cuddle 

that being said, ashe is also quite emotional, for good and ill; while it means he would understand that in your quite well, it could be,,, bad, if it lined up 

you both wear your hearts on your sleeves, and that counts for something  

but, you’d be very loyal to one another, and that means that you can trust each other deeply!

ashe strikes me as very affectionate and complimentary, and you can bet that he does his best to fight back against your low self-esteem 

so, he’d also love how affectionate you are, because it’d help prevent him from feeling like he was being overbearing 

also, he adores watching you dance or listening to you sing, and he always showers you with compliments whenever you perform         

as a cook, i think he’d be well-equipped to deal with your gastric issues

he’s definitely the sort to do a ton of research on what food is and isn’t beneficial to you, which foods with soothe your stomach, and so on

 he’d develop a strong arsenal of recipes, and you can count on him never failing to deliver a truly phenomenal meal 

i think your hobbies would also line up quite well

remember the domestic dates i mentioned in your other matchup?? yeah, i’m doubling down on that, the concept is adorable

reading and baking together!! i can see you guys having a ton of fun playing around with recipes and flavours, and meals are never boring with you two 

i get the feeling ashe has the capacity to get excited about media (i get the vibe he’d be a bit of a nerd in the modern day), and he’d be really interested in hearing your analyses!! 

he’s got a little bit of an adventurous spirit in him, so he’d enjoy exploring new places with you

archery couple!! 

honestly, i don’t think there’d be a ton of conflict between the two of you 

while there may be the occasional emotional episode, they’d pass very easily, because you’re both very level-headed and willing to talk things out!!

you’re both good at putting yourselves in others’ shoes and seeing other perspectives, so communication is a dream between the two of you

importantly, i think he’d be able to help you and be concerned for you without being condescending 

and honestly, he’s pretty petite and young-looking too (especially in the monastery days), so i feel like he’d know what it’s like to not be taken seriously 

and finally, i think he ha a lot of the traits that you look for in a partner!!

he’s definitely morally upright and respectful, as well as being kind and helpful

he’s a very hard-worker who’s dedicated to his dream

he’s very patient, considerate and supportive (a ton of his supports demonstrate this), and as mentioned, i think he’d be helpful for working through any anxious or paranoid episodes 

as i touched on earlier, i think he’s the best candidate when it comes to managing your stomach issues (and may i say? he’d do it in the most delicious way possible)

similar hobbies!! so that’s a bonus!! 

and, to top it all off, he’d definitely see you and treat you as an equal, while still being supportive and helpful (all while not being condescending)

honestly, you guys would be so precious and delightful, and would have a wonderfully supportive and enriching relationship!! 

dare i say, we stan?

for alternative matchups... 

claude von riegan!!

claude is quite different from ashe slkdfjfkldj but you know what? he’s an excellent partner for you as well 

getting to know each other could go either one of two ways; either you bond quite quickly because claude decides that’s what he wants to happen (so that he can find out your “secrets”), or you’re going to be overwhelmed by him and avoid him because of it 

but, i’m sure you’d become friends over time, and trust me; claude strikes me as the slowburn type, so you’d have a long time to get comfortable before romance even crosses his mind 

first of all, he admires how hardworking you are; for all this lassiez-faire attitude, claude knows the value of dedication, and knows how vital that is to achieving his dreams 

so, he likes seeing it others, especially people who don’t take themselves too seriously for it 

he also admires your kindness; while it doesn’t appear that way on the surface, i think claude is quite kind, deep down. he wants to minimize suffering and discrimination, after all, and i think your values would line up quite nicely there 

claude would value how supportive and affirming you are, because while he’s someone who always strives to do better and benefits from criticism, it’s nice to be encouraged every once in a while

but, he appreciates that you’re still able to be honest with him; that balance is important to claude, and it’s something that’ll really help him grow 

he keeps your notes on him whenever he’s away for a while

doesn’t necessarily write them back (i don’t think he’s big on words as a way of expressing his affection for others, unless the mood grips him and he makes a lil speech), but he finds other creative ways to express his love and appreciation for you 

probably brings back fun trinkets that remind him of you whenever he goes to almyra, or buys you a book that he adores or finds interesting

i think that your more responsible and reliable personality would ground him quite well?? claude’s very intelligent and he certainly thinks things through, he could probably use a hand

please keep him organized oh my god

admittedly, he might not be the best when it comes to anxiety (and that’s a big reason as to why i chose ashe as your main match); his marianne supports go to show that he struggles to wrap his head around that sort of stuff

that being said, i think he’s capable of learning? it would just require a lot of talking things through, and trying to explain it to him 

honestly, if you just explained by focusing on the overthinking, it might click for him 

he’s a bit of an overthinker himself, but in a different way; but, the general principle might be enough to help him really get it 

loyalty hits well with claude, and it’s something he’s just not used to; having a partner that he knows he can rely on no matter what would provide a sense of relief that he’d never felt before

honestly, your more emotional personality may clash with him at first (he’s not the sort to wear his heart on his sleeve, and he likes to mess around with people -- which may cause some conflict), but i think that with post-timeskip claude, it means you’d have a good balance

claude has some very high-minded ideals, and his dreams are founded on the basis of compassion and acceptance; but, claude seems to struggle with being emotionally present and sensitive

i think you could help him develop those traits, and may bring a more humanistic, grounded edge to his goals 

claude is determined to up your self-esteem, so you can bet that he’s constantly giving you thoughtful compliments that really show he’s been paying attention 

his compliments are different to ashe’s, in that they’re less earnest; but he always notices little things you do, small acts of kindness or dedication that generally go unnoticed, and he’ll be sure to compliment you for them 

that doesn’t mean he’s above teasing you, though; he loves to tease you for wearing your heart on your sleeve, and the fact that you blush easily (and he’s delighted that teasing you makes you blush more). but, it’s affectionate, and due largely in part because he’s not the best at expressing his feelings for people 

side note: he likes that you tend to laugh when you’re attracted to someone because he likes to feel witty  

i think he’d like your approach to conflict

his entire arc and the themes of his route are all about trying to mend bridges (to varying success) and moving forward, and the best way to do that is to talk things through rationally and tactfully

dare i say, diplomatic power couple? 

on top that, i think it means that once you two were comfortable with each other, you’d be able to communicate pretty well?

i do think that claude would struggle with trust and vulnerability for quite a while into your relationship, but i believe that you’re ability to be honest with people would go a long way there 

but, in all honesty, he might patronize you a bit at first (just look at his supports with lysithea),,, but as long as you spoke up and told him to stop, and then explained why you didn’t like it, i think he’d stop

don’t think for a second that he’s underestimated you though; he knows what you’re worth and what your strengths are, and he’ll tell you about them in a second if you asked him to (albeit, with a touch of awkwardness) 

he’d give you almyran recipes to bake; he’s not going to help because he’s terrified of messing up (not that he’d admit that), but he loves it when you cook meals from his homeland; it warms his heart in a way not much else does 

claude would analyse things to death with you; it’d be one of his favourite ways to pass time, and he’s always picking out things that you didn’t -- and vice versa 

he’s also up for exploring new places, especially if you appeal to his curiosity; but, in true claude style, he somehow gets you into places you really shouldn’t be 

also, another archery couple!! iconic!! 

though i feel like claude would always be challenging you to a competition; it’s just how he be 

he’s not too far off your ideal partner, either; he’s definitely morally upright (well, in his own way), and he’s hardworking and patient (he has to be, to pull of the things he dreams of) 

and i think he’s capable of being very supportive and considerate when he really loves someone 

and, claude is the best person to talk to about various topics!! i think he’d be very good at playing “devil’s advocate” and considering different perspectives in a conversation 

i think the two of you would have a lot of fun just talking the night away

at the end of the day, claude definitely treats you as an equal (especially after he’s learnt to open up to you and share his real thoughts and feelings), while still supporting and helping each other!!

it’s a different vibe to ashe, but i think this relationship would still work wonderfully!

but also...

dimitri alexandre blaiddyd!! 

i chose him as your secret admirer, and once again, i stand by what i said!! 

as i said in your original matchup, he’d admire how hardworking and kind you are, because those are traits that he strives to have

like ashe and claude, i think he’d be quite drawn to the sense of justice you see to have; as i said in your original matchup, he’d admire how you stood up for yourself and others

dimitri himself has a strong sense of justice and compassion, and i feel like that’s something you’d bond over 

after all, dimitri implements democracy in his endings (it says so in his solo ending, and i believe a few others?)

dimitri always strives to improve himself, and because of that, he values your tactful honesty 

he wants to be the best leader -- and best person -- that he can be, and he needs people who are willing to help him grow 

even before you were romantically involved, he’d value your judgement and your counsel, and he’d come to you to talk through important issues 

i think that dimitri’s own struggles would give him an attentiveness and sensitivity that the others don’t quite have; while he confide in you as your other friends do, he’s also aware of your own struggles

and because of that, he’d be mindful to always be willing to lend an ear and a shoulder should you need it 

he knows how much he appreciates you doing that for him, so he never wants you to feel alone and like you had no one of your own to turn to  

dimitri would honestly be one of the most supportive partners you could ever have!! he’s constantly just,,, in awe of you, and thinks you’re wonderful!! and he’s so uncontrollably fond that it just comes across in everything he does (but more on that later) 

unlike the other two, dimitri’s quite organized himself!! but he’s also quite organized with his personal belongings (catch him cleaning your room every so often dkljfljk)

like the others, i think he’d value that responsible and reliable side of you, but in a different way; in dimitri’s case, it’s a relief, because he’d really value a person who can help him stay on top of things

dimitri would also deeply value your loyalty; he’s had a very tumultuous life, and having someone he can rely on and who he can really talk to means a lot to him 

more so than the other two, i think dimitri would have the best grasp on your anxiety, and would arguably be the best at helping you overcome it? 

his supports with marianne demonstrate that he’s very sensitive and tactful when it comes to other people’s mental health struggles, and he very much seems to be the type who’s there to hold your hand and support you while you work on yourself 

another textual example is when he comforts byleth after jeralt dies; he brings a wisdom and sensitivity to that conversation that demonstrates how understanding and even attentive he can be 

where i’m going with this is that i think he’d be very patient and helpful whenever you were spiralling; he’d speak from the heart and would do his absolute best to help calm you down and remind you that things will be okay 

similarly to ashe, i think that dimitri would be prone to constantly and earnestly complimenting you, and would honestly be distraught to know that you had low self-esteem

dimitri has a tendency to love people wholly and fully, and knowing that you don’t see yourself like he does breaks his heart 

and, once again like ashe, he would be almost embarrassingly sincere -- but it’s sweet, and it’s honest, and it’s all very dimitri 

he’s quite similar to you in that while he’s measured most of the time, he tends to feel strongly about things (just see his entire route)

this could be a double-edged sword, because it will deepen your understand of each other, but as with ashe, it could be a bit problematic if certain emotions lined up

but, it’s nothing that communication can’t help soothe, imo 

i think you guys would get quite well-acquainted with each other’s triggers and common overthinking cycles, and would do your best to help combat them 

dimitri is touch-starved imo, so i reckon he’d be clingy

and he’d love how affectionate you were, because it’d validate him

you’d likely end up just being,,, the cuddliest couple in the world. he’s going to hold you at each and every opportunity, no matter what 

side note: he loves that you laugh a lot around him because he’s never really seen as funny, so it makes him feel a little giddy 

honestly, i feel like you and dimitri would have a good rapport to start with? i know you say that you take time to warm up to people, but i just think again to his supports with marianne and how well he was able to get along with her 

i just think that dimitri’s whole demeanour and his attentiveness would make it very easy for you to get along with him from the get-go 

i feel like dimtiri would be mindful of how quiet you are, and how you tend to get underestimated, and would make a real effort to ask you for your opinion 

he hates seeing you be overlooked or underestimated just because you’re quieter and more thoughtful, and he wants to give you the opportunity -- and the platform -- to speak your mind and be heard

and as mentioned earlier, i feel like he’d value your counsel deeply, and would thoughtfully consider your opinions on things 

a lot of that is because he trusts you so much, but also because your values resonate and he likes how level-headed you are when talking about those sorts of issues 

and as i said in the other matchup, he deeply admires how you’re willing to stand up for your friends and your opinions; he thinks that take’s real courage

like with ashe, i feel like your relationship would be pretty free of conflict? dimitri is prone to the occasional emotional blow up (like in his early supports with ingrid), but i just can’t see you saying or doing anything that would upset him to that point

you both want to work things out with people and to meet in the middle (he tries to talk to edelgard to end the war, after all), so i genuinely think that you’d always work through your conflicts before they became anything to be concerned about 

and, even if you were being overly emotional or stubborn, i feel like he’d continue to be patient and understanding, and would know when to give you time to cool off 

while he can’t taste your cooking, he loves supporting you and encouraging you (and he can certainly give you his opinion on the texture of the things you make)

also a big fan of your singing and dancing!! he especially likes it when you sing him a lullaby; he has an easier time falling asleep when he’s listening to your voice 

being from fargheus, he doesn’t know much about marine life, so he’d find aquatic creatures fascinating!! he’d listen with rapt attention whenever you told him some interesting facts about sharks and whales and all the rest. 

his face just lights up whenever you start talking about the things you’re passionate about, because he loves seeing that fire in your eyes; so, he’s always asking thoughtful questions about your interests!!

finally, i think he also fits your profile of an ideal partner!!

morally upright? check (and he works hard for it). respectful? check. kind and helpful? check check check!!

considerate, hardworking, patient and supportive? that’s dimitri to a t. 

something tells me that dimitri would be a tad pedantic about making sure you’re eating on time and that you’re feeling comfortable; so there’s that, too!! 

and while your hobbies don’t line up perfectly, dimitri definitely seems like the type of partner who would make a real effort to take an interest in the things you’re passionate about!! 

and finally, he absolutely sees you as an equal, and would support and help you without a second thought; dimitri is so inherently thoughtful, and i’m sure that’ll come up all the time in your relationship 

bless you guys, you’d have such a wholesome, supportive relationship that has a lot of potential to encourage growth!! 

(fun fact: as i was writing this out i wanted to change around the order of the ships, but the formatting is being to difficult so!! ashe and dimitri are probably equal in terms of compatibility!!)

since there were only a few boys left, i thought i may as well say something about them, too!! 

dedue - i like dedue as an option for you!! you have a lot of qualities that he’d admire: you’re hardworking, kind and loyal, and you stay organized. 

dedue has this quiet composure to him, and that’d be a double-edged sword in this relationship. i think it’d be good in the sense that it’d ground you, and that could provide a sense of calm. the moments you’d get to steal away with dedue would be very peaceful, and full of more unspoken affection and sensitivity; a nice reprieve from the stresses of day-to-day life. at the same time, his stolidness wouldn’t be as effective a pick-me-up as the emotionality and brightness of your other picks. there may just be some tension there when it comes to expressing emotion and affection. basically it comes down to a fi vs fe issue; you just have different ways of handling your emotions. 

but, as said, i think you’d work really well together. i think you complement each other well, while also having similar virtues. also, just imagine baking together for a moment. bless. 

seteth - i wasn’t actually sure if i should include seteth (since i’m not including other staff members), but here’s the green man himself.

honestly, my feelings towards you and seteth are quite similar to those i had about you and dedue. i think seteth would value a similar set of traits in you; namely your kindness, your propensity for being organized and responsible, and how supportive you are. and while i think he’s got a bit of distance to him (because, you know,,, he’s seen a lot over the past few centuries), he’s very kind and very use, and i think he’d be quite good at helping you out with your anxiety and your tendency to overthink. 

he also fits your ideal profile pretty well, but i think there’s just this,,, air of distance to him, and that may mean that you won’t truly feel like you’re equals. it might not be a major issue, it’s enough to make me place him here on the list instead of higher up. 

ferdinand - i had a hard time trying to get a grasp on what a relationship between you and ferdinand would look like. i don’t know why it was so elusive, but i think you two would work quite well together?

he’s very hardworking, and he’s quite considerate and respectful (after he’s been berated for his tactlessness -- most of his supports work this way hdslkjfdsfs). he’d really like how organized, responsible and reliable you are, and would admire how kind, hardworking, loyal and supportive you are. so on a lot of levels, i think you’d find each other quite attractive!! also i think he’d love listening to you sing and watching you dance, as well; he adores that sort of thing. 

that being said, i think he can be just a bit too tactless at times (of course, he always rectifies that behaviour once he’s told, as shown in supports), but it could cause a few hiccups along the way. but, i do think he’s a good choice!! 

felix - i think things with felix could certainly be interesting. your personalities contrast a lot, but felix seems like he’d be a softie really deep down. while that side of him is never really going to come out (we love repressing ourselves because fargheus culture promotes toxic masculinity wOOHOO), it’s definitely there, and i think once he got to know you, it’d really come out around you. 

i think that the contrast between the two of you could incur great growth, especially in him, but that’d be a ton of work. i think the two of you certainly have the capacity to get along, but it’d take a long time to get to the point of being comfortable. also, can i just say? he’d be terrible with anxiety. absolutely awful. and self-esteem issues? a disaster. he means well and he wants to help, but again,,, fargheus culture. he just doesn’t know how to be comforting. love him tho, what an icon

sylvain - i flip-flopped on sylvain tbh. i think there are elements of him that would make a great partner for you, but i feel like you’d flourish more with someone mature? not that sylvain’s not mature -- he’s certainly capable of it -- but he chooses to act a fool. 

i think he’d find you very cute, and there’s some value to having a good contrast between partners, but i just don’t think he’s the best match for you?? he doesn’t really fit the bill in terms of what you’re looking for (i think he’d get there eventually, but it’d just take a lot of growth on his part), and i think his flippant, careless persona could cause some trouble for the two of you. once again, i think that if you stuck it out, great things could happen, but there’s just better matches for you!! 

hubert - honestly, i don’t see it working? honestly, because you sound too nice for him dsjlds 

your personalities come off as very different to me, and while that can provide some fun contrast, i feel like it’d be very unbalanced. while he’d value your hardworking and organized side, your emotionality and kindness just don’t seem like things he’d prioritize in a partner. there’s not much to say on this ahaha 

i think you’d have good comedic potential as friends?? *hubert voice* “someone will die.” “of love and support!”

[anautisticdragon-blog]

The Popularity of Sociopaths & Being Hitler's Bitch

There's so much I want to talk about, here. My head is bursting with talking topics, really. It all centres around this idea, though, that sociopaths being so popular in culture and with people shows how broken we are as a species and underlines, perhaps, one of the biggest problems we need to fix.

I think part of the problem is that extraverts seem to experience life through an unending chain of vices; It's smoking, gambling, sex, and even socialising to a degree fires their brain and releases dopamine. So all they do is defined by flooding their brain with feel good chemicals because their brain is insensitive to those chemicals, thus they're willing to go to lengths to feel those good vibes, which ends up addicting them to the process. And from birth I think they're caught up in this cycle of going from vice to vice.

It would explain a lot.

Now, you have introverted and -- even more so -- autistic brains which just are very dopamine and stimuli sensitive. They don't need a lot of anything to be happy, so they don't really go chasing vices. The thing is is that there are so infinitesimally few introverts/autistic individuals versus the extraverted masses. People think that there are actually more introverts/autistic people than there really are, which is unfortunate. Usually it's down to misdiagnoses, combined with shy or traumatised extraverts who don't socialise as much.

I've seen manipulative extraverts even in autistic communities, convinced that they're autistic and using that as a platform to make them a special snowflake, it's just the latest vice. For them being autistic is a lifestyle choice, a vice to follow for as long as it provides the dopamine hits. For an actually autistic person, it's not really a choice, it's something you're born with and you're that way until you die. And extraverts don't get that, they tend to see everything as a choice, so they think 'oh, it's so weird that you'd choose to be a part of that, you're just emphasising your need for special snowflake status!'

I see that a lot.

I see it in the weirdest places. Allow me to be upfront with you, here. I'm very much a hypnofetishist, in fact, I think that's so true I'd actually go so far as to say it's almost hypnosexuality, I'm more into the act of hypnosis than I am into any gender or what have you, it's the target of my eroticism. And all fetishes like this come from some emotional need. I could explain the emotional need that leads to this kind of fetish, but I really don't want to. That'd be getting too personal, especially for a Tumblr like this, but suffice it to say that's how I am.

And in fetish circles, it's kind of the ugly stepchild, more valigned even than snuff porn. Why? It's hard to understand, so the people who're into it must be even more weird and scary than those who like death porn, because at least that's potentially possible to grasp. So instead of being empathetic enough to do any research, ask questions, and think about it, the immediate assumption is that they're all just kind of too weird to even bother thinking about, it's better to ostracise them and forget about it than actually understand.

And this even happens in the furry community. Which is a community that truly should know better than that, it really should, especially after the incident with the refugees and how people reacted to that. Instead of 'oh, isn't it lovely that those kids get to be around mascot suiters after all the horrors they've endured' it's 'look at the freaks, and how they're spreading their furry virus to those poor, impressionable kids!'

Travis McElroy (of MBMBaM fame) touched on this in Trends Like These. He regularly does, as does his co-host. It was mentioned in a recent Trends Like These episode that at a time like this, when prejudice, ostracising, and hate crimes have become such a pandemic? Being silent is a crime in and of itself. There's a sort of imperative right now to pick a side, you can't just stay on the fence and sit this one out. And this reminds me of something else I'd spoken about in the past...

There's this game, Dreamfall Chapters, and one of the characters in it is autistic. They're insulted and berated by another character in the game for their autism. It wasn't okay. The writer justified this -- in what I can only imagine to be the most whiny and nasally lazy intern tones -- as 'real people in the real world can be mean, so why can't video game people in the video game world?'

That wasn't the problem, snacky. The problem was that no one spoke up to defend the autistic person. Yes, it's fine to have douchebags in a video game, I'm not against that. Sociopathic golden children are everywhere, anyway, just being sociopaths, getting away with it, and being loved far and wide for being complete and utter arseholes. So yes, they're going to be in your game. What got the goat of us autistic people is that this was another sociopathic golden child who was never called on their shit.

This validates and normalises sociopathic behaviours. That's fucking wrong. These toxic, hateful behaviours where a person will attack another just for being different should be shot down at every turn.

There should always be someone standing up to say "Hey jerkoff, you're just a giant sociopath! You don't actually deserve to have a voice because all you ever do with it is make the lives of other people miserable! That's not okay, and I'm going to point it out and judge you for trying to make other people suffer for nothing... nothing else other than them being something you just don't understand or recognise, you intolerable, miserable arsehat."

Except people are like mesmerised sheep who just love the sociopathic bad boys, so it's easier to be quiet when they do these terrible things. I can only imagine that the quiet people go back to their rooms later to fap off to how into these awful fucking monsters they are. And for this reason, I can only call these unfortunate people 'sheep.' They're sheep for their sociopathic shepherds, they don't really think about anything, they're just driven by their attraction (mostly sexual, I'd bet) to sociopaths.

And sadly? That's most people. That's probably you.

This is why our world is so broken. Most people are just these mindless drones going from vice to vice, getting addicted to one thing after another, and empowering evil sociopaths out of sexual attraction.

It's not okay.

If you've ever done that? It's not okay. It is not fucking okay. If you've ever been quiet around a sociopath when they make the life of someone miserable just for being different? Just because the sociopath who's doing this gets your rocks off? That's not fucking okay, and that makes you a monster by proxy. If you're silent, you're every bit as bad as the evil, monstrous sociopath who's doing it.

You know, when people think of 'monsters,' they probably think of dragons or werewolves. I don't. That's probably obvious from the name. I specifically think of sociopathic wunderchildren, and the sheep who enable them. I have very, very human faces in mind whenever I think of the word 'monster.' Those faces look so much like yours or mine that I'm actually becoming more uncomfortable iwth my species than I've ever been.

I've always had some level of body dysmorphic disorder, which is to say that I've always been some degree of transspecies, but this is making it worse than it's ever been at any point in my life prior. I want to be not human now as an imperative, it's a deep, emotional need that I can't escape from. I'm thoroughly ashamed of my species, and if I had to wonder why intelligent life hasn't ever visited us? I'd say this is why. We're a world of vile, sociopathic monsters, bleating, witless, mindless sheep, and... little else.

And this is really endemic with white people more than any other group since most white people have never experienced discrimination before. I used to know an Alt-Right, MRA person. I interacted with them to try to understand why they were all so horrible. In their opinion, 'discrimination' was people talking about them behind their back and potentially saying not nice things. Awww diddums, is the poor widdle white supremacist offended that SOME people are beginning to finallly call them on their horrible, vile, cancerous shit?

This is what the Alt-Right are thinking of when they're talking about 'white prejudice,' or 'white genocide.' They're upset that people are quietly mentioning that they're absolute fucking monsters.

Which is why I refer to the Alt-Right as the Alt-Blight, it's a disease, it's endemic of the sociopathic problem our world has.

For the witless sheep, the Alt-Right are rockstars.

Coming back to the transspecies thing? Sociopaths who've invaded transgender groups just to be shitlords regularly attack people with body dysmorphic disorder and try to make out that what they're experiencing isn't real, mocking them and trying to make out that their condition somehow belittles and lessesn the plight of transgender people. They rally the witless sheep amongst the transgender group and use them to attack people with very real problems. And you'd really think that people like those who live with being transgender would stop to think that maybe this is real, maybe this is something people deal with? And a lot of them do, but enough of them don't to make a scene. Enough of them don't, allowing that sociopath to make the lives of others miserable.

Why? Power. Control. They get off on it. It's why trolls exist. A study from a while ago pointed out that Internet trolls are 'extraverts with undesirable dark triad traits.' Which is another way of saying that all Internet trolls are sociopaths, basically. It's a nice way of saying that, since 'extraverts with undesirable dark traid traits' is just another way of saying 'sociopath.' Sociopaths enjoy fucking with people and making their lives terrible, they get off on it. They're really broken in that way, they love manipulating and fucking people up.

Consider what it's like to have zero empathy, zero guilt, and instead you've maxed out manipulation, a killer instinct, shark-like behaviour, and an ability to see people as disposables. That's sociopathy.

And we permit it. We tolerate it. We just let it happen.

So our world is broken.

It's broken because we allow it to be. We allow them to have this power, we enable them, we give them the numbers to make the lives of certain groups so miserable that they'll commit suicide. We empower them so that things like Brexit (out of racism) can happen. We empower them so that Charlottesville is heroic rather than a fucking tragedy.

Our world is broken because we permit sociopathy to have power. And the reason we permit sociopathy to have power is because the biggest body of people are humans who live from vice to vice, for whom the thrill of a sociopath is just another vice.

That's the world we live in.

Just remember, whenever you stay quiet just because some sociopath is fucking hot to you? You're empowering their vile, evil shit. You might as well start fantasising about being Hitler's bitch. Please do, that's how I see you if you're just quiet and you permit this to happen. You're just a shallow, witless little sheep who wants to be Hitler's bitch. I'm very much taking a side in this as any human being with a conscience very much should be.

Someone had to say this. Someone had to. If you're quiet, you're no better than a sociopath. This is why I keep talking about this. I talk about it with poeple, I talk about it on blogs, I talk about it in IRC, or with anyone who'll listen.

If you're quiet? You're just Hitler's bitch. You're a sociopath's little pony. This is a time where you absolutely need to take sides. Not taking sides normalises and empowers the worst that humanity has to offer, by not judging their evil, you're quietly saying that it's okay and you're not going to do anything to stop them, even admonish them, for what they're doing.