#stuff my family sent in the whatsapp group

[thatsridicarus]

They're chanting in catchy rhymes, American style

[cloudy-over-the-sea]

yesterday i (a gender neutral trans person) was with my boyfriend (a cis man) in our new rented apartment (/pos).

i was stuck cleaning because there was nothing else i could do, and he was over the electrical stuff (he works with this kind of stuff so he knows how to set them up and all).

he took a photo without me noticing and sent it to his family whatsapp group.

(yes it still doesn't have energy, but we haven't actually moved there so it's okay)

later on he told me about the photo. i was kinda sad about it because he described it as a picture of me mopping while he was setting the electrical outlets (he didn't show me it).

cleaning is viewed as a female activity, and thought i am not a woman, his family doesn't know. anything maintenance is a male activity.

technically i was doing "housewife chores" while he was doing "men's chores". i don't feel good thinking about it this way but it's the way most people will think about it (/neg).

so i was worried his family would think once again i'm a girl, when i'm not. i said this to him and i think it made him feel bad (/neg).

today he showed me the picture, and i think it looks pretty nice and now i feel bad

[ilovenearlyeverything]

Secret Santa 2022

Dear @princephilipplahm I am pleased to present you with your Secret Santa present :) I hope you like the little Christmas peaks into the lives of all your favourites! I hoper you have a brilliant Christmas and a happy New Year with lots to celebrate!

Christmas Spotlights

24th of December 2022

The snow that had glistened on the Swiss alps last weekend had been replaced by mud and rain everywhere in Germany in just two days. Even the southern Bavarians were lacking snow in the valleys. Constantin looked out of his window and dreamed along with Bing Crosbys „White Christmas“ before turning around. Seeing the beautiful tree they had put up and decorated with various ornaments - some in his family for generation – cheered him up significantly, especially the carefully wrapped presents underneath it. This was the one day of the year he was definitely spending inside, he shouldn’t be worrying about the weather. Consti grabbed his phone from the small table beside the sofa and took a picture of the tree before opening the WhatsApp group chat and typing:

„Merry Christmas boys. Hope you get lots of presents. Eat as much as you want, I am ready to beat you in Oberstdorf!“

Karl must have sent a picture at the same time, because right after he had sent his, he saw Karls daughter Luisa next to a tree and a new ski set as well as a Playmobil train in her arms. The accompanying message read „The christkind made someone happy here!“ Consti grinned and replied with a heart eyes emoji. The little girl was just too cute.

„Consti, you said you would prepare desert, I am counting on you“, his mother shouted for him. „Yes, move your ass“, his girlfriend added. „On my way!“ he laughed and decided not to let the weather dampen his mood again.

------

In Willingen Stephan Leyhe sat on his couch alone. He had decided not to tag along with his family which was visiting his aunt. They’ll see each other tomorrow anyway, so he just enjoyed having the quiet house for himself, reading the last pages of his current book. He finished it quite quickly and eyed the wrapped presents carefully, he suspected new books in at least two packets. Stephan grabbed his phone and he saw four notifications in the teams group chat. He smiled at the tree pictures from Consti, Karl, Andi and Severin, before adding his own.

„Merry Christmas boys! Keeping it quiet here.“

After sending the text, he wandered around the living room and started setting the table for dinner, beginning to regret staying behind. He loved his family and winter was the part of the year he spent the least time with them, even his loud younger cousins. So when he heard the key in the lock he perked up and smiled at the commotion in the hallway, where everyone was getting rid of wet shoes and coats. Quiet was nice and well, but family was always better.

------

In Switzerland Simon Amman was quite busy. They always decorated their tree on the 24th so after his wife and his kids had given up and decided it was boring, he stuck around. Adding another bauble here or there, rearranging something he didn’t like before until he was fully satisfied with it. They had a beautiful tree. He sat down in an armchair and his thoughts wandered around the last year. The ups and downs of his jumping, his shoes, his studies. And once again he wondered how it would keep going. Trying to block the last weekend in Engelberg – of all places – out of his mind, he didn’t even let the thought of the Four Hills tournament rise up. This was Christmas, the time he spent with his family. The kids were super excited to get their presents later on and hoped their wish list did make it to Santa. He had told them he was really sure, and he was, because he had been the one to go shopping and get some of the stuff on it. The absence of the much anticipated real rocket will be a slight disappointment, but he was sure they could cope with that. Simon hadn’t noticed his oldest daughter coming into the room until she spoke:

“You did a good job daddy! I like the sparkles!” He smiled, stood up and picked her up from the ground.:

“I like them too. Are you ready for the presents later?” She nodded her head vigorously and he laughed. After placing her back on the ground he followed her into the dining room where he looked at his family. No matter what his jumping was doing, he had fun doing it and would do it as long as it would let him, and if not, his life was definitely not over.

------

Killian didn’t really care for the break in the world cup. Yes it was Christmas, that was wonderful and everything, he just wanted to keep going. He just started in the World Cup in Titisee-Neustadt and it wasn’t working as well as he hoped. He was buzzing to be better in Oberstdorf and the following places. But as much as he wished it could go on he couldn’t change it. So he took another strip of sticky tape and finished wrapping the earrings he bought for Veronika. He was always late with preparing everything and she had given him an ultimatum 25 minutes ago. Time for presents was in 30 minutes, and if he didn’t finish wrapping til then he would have to endure the whole evening filled with Ariana Grandes Christmas songs on repeat. He could cope with that but would prefer a wider mix, so he was pleased with himself as he stood up and gathered the four presents.

“I’m done!” he shouted happily as he entered the living room, where his wife sat in a chair, reading on her tablet.

“Well I just have to threaten you with Ariana and you’ll actually do something!” she grinned. Killian laughed: “Oh no, I made myself vulnerable!”

He placed his presents under the tree and sat down on the floor next to it.

“Can I have my presents now?” And while they exchanged gifts and enjoyed their evening with a movie, Killian decided the break was kind of okay.

------

Manuel had loved the perfect Christmases at his parents’ house, shared with girlfriend and her family as well. But this was their first Christmas as their own family, the three, well four – counting their dog – of them alone. And it hadn’t quite been the perfect day so far. Henrik had woken them up at an unholy hour, just to fall asleep to System of a Down before noon. He then vomited up her milk on the living room floor, thankfully next to the carpet, but they had to keep the dog away from it and well, it had all been a bit chaotic. Not quite the definition of perfect he had dreamt of. Manu and Sylvie sat down on the couch with a glass of Coke each. They decided not to have alcohol with the baby being so little, in case of emergencies. He was lying in a crib next to them, now totally at peace and dreaming away. Manuel thought about his last results and the upcoming four hills tournament and he couldn’t wait to get started there. He was on a high again and this year would be great, he just knew it. And sitting there, with the twinkling lights around him, his family next to him, everything did feel perfect in the end. He was totally ready for his next tasks in the world cup.

------

In another part of Europe, precisely Finland, Antti was practising a German tradition someone in Titisee told him about. Praising the Christmas tree. You just have to look at a decorated tree and tell the owner “what a beautiful tree”, and you get a shot of liquor. After explaining it to his family he had praised three trees already and he was starting to feel the Salmiakki. Normally he didn’t drink at all, so he decided that was enough for him. And now, slightly drunk he sat in his chair and thought about the family around him and how much he loved each and everyone of them. Always supporting him in his dreams, no matter what he was doing. And when that concerned ski jumping a second group of people came to mind. The fans. They were amazing, constantly pushing him and their support encouraged him all the time. They would never let him down. Antti smiled. He hoped that each and every one of them had a brilliant, maybe slightly tipsy Christmas. Especially the one reading this.

[vamosaespana]

Feeling Hot Hot Hot 🥵

Today we awake in Seville. The plan is to take a walking tour of the historical area of Seville in the morning with a planned tour of Alcazar later in the afternoon. We scheduled the tour for 10:00 thinking that would give everyone a chance to sleep in a bit before we headed out. GB had planned on getting the rental car this morning so that we were ready for our drive tomorrow to Tarifa. He took off and I worked on getting the house put together and usher the Branson ducklings making sure they were up and ready. Can never remind them enough about brushing their teeth 🙄 I remember GB had told me to have my phone nearby in case he called but somehow that went in one ear and out the other as I got the house ready. I am super anal about beds being made in the morning. It’s just how I was raised. The kids and GB give me the hardest time but for me I am not right the rest of the day if I my bed isn’t made. There have been times where I’ve been gone all day and GB was the last to get up…he never makes the bed ever. I will literally make the bed when I get home just to get back in a made bed a couple hours later…it’s that bad 🫣 Well needless to say GB did call, MULTIPLE TIMES, and I didn’t realize it till I went down to the first floor. Apparently he needed a pic of his passport at the rental car place and was waiting for me to call him back…oops my bad 😣 I quickly took a photo and sent it in WhatsApp hoping that wouldn’t damper the mood. From then on, the phone was right next to me.

We had discussed that the kids and I would meet him at the meeting point that the tour guide stated “La plaza Triunfo.” Our plan was to leave the house at 9:00 giving us plenty of time to catch a cab and be at our meeting spot well before the 10:00 tour. GB was going to get the car signed in but leave it at the train station to avoid parking. He then was going to grab a cab and meet us at the plaza. We had no problem locating a taxi and he dropped us off right outside the plaza. Thank goodness we had some time as the kids were getting hungry. I don’t know about your kids but my kids are not breakfast eaters. They really don’t get hungry till around 10/11. We try time and time again to make them eat something in the morning but 9/10 times they leave the house early without eating anything. This definitely was no exception. But again, we had time, so I guess ice cream for breakfast it is 🤷🏻‍♀️ it was already getting pretty hot and humid so the ice cream really hit the spot in cooling the kiddos down. By now it was 9:45 with no sign of GB…that’s odd because he should have arrived sooner as he was closer. I can see groups starting to meet up at the plaza and people with tags around their neck signifying they were tour guides. No GB. I finally get a phone call and he says he is by the horse carriages. Perfect! I see the line of them. I walk over but no GB 🤷🏻‍♀️ I return back to the plaza and something told me to ask this woman if she was waiting to meet a family for a tour. She states no…she is waiting for someone by the name of GB. Oh boy….I explain to her that we are her tour which is great but that I currently have no idea where my husband is. She laughs and says let’s take a selfie and I will send him the pic to let him know we found each other.

Our tour guide was excellent yet again! She was a mom of 2 who was in school for history and uses this as a way to make money while using what she is learning. She knew so much about architecture and the history of all the different barrios within the historical center. A lot of people within the city also knew her which was pretty nice. There were times that people tried to hand us stuff or barter with us on trying to come inside to buy things but once they saw her they changed their pushiness. Pamphlets were put back in their pockets and people didn’t harass us. They were all excited to see her and talk with her, says a lot about her lovely personality. She also knew secret places to enter using offices and homes to sneak in so we could see beautiful rooftop views of the city.

She showed us inner rooms of offices that still had remaining parts of the wall of the city with its detail historic of the moors.

She took us to a beautiful park area that was donated to the city from one of the royal family members. Her one mandate is that she wanted to have areas for learning, little libraries if you will, so that people could come and read/learn amongst nature. She had fountains and seats built around bookshelves where people could leave books for others.

We saw the Plaza Mayor which was built explaining the history of Spain and had pictures of each region/city in Spain in alphabetical order. I found the region of Leon so I had to take a pic with the kids for my family. I knew my parents would get a kick out of it being that my maiden name is Leon.

In the center of the plaza is a huge outdoor auditorium where artists will put on concerts. Our tour guide was super excited that she got tickets to see Ricky Martin in a couple weeks….that I’m sure will be an awesome show and I’m not gonna lie I was super jealous. I also saw y hat Gypsy Kings were coming on Saturday but was bummed as that was the day we were leaving for Valencia. Seeing a concert in Spain would have been pretty awesome…guess I’ll just have to come back😁

We wrapped up our tour and thanked her for an amazing time. We asked her about giving us another tour on Friday and she said she would have to look at her calendar but would really try to make it work 🤞🏼 The traditional cheek kisses were given and we said our good byes. It was funny seeing the kids react to the cheek kisses 🤭

When she left, everyone looked pretty sweaty and red in the face with the big question being “where are we going to eat?” As we walked around to our right there was a cafe to sit down and recharge. They had small sandwiches, smoothies and shakes which everyone seemed to be happy with. We are finding out on this trip that 2 isn’t a big fan of the ham ibérico which is truly unfortunate as most places this is their go-to sandwich. It honestly is yummy and hits the spot especially on hot days with it being a lighter meat. GB, on the other hand, reaps the benefits eating all the ham that is on her sandwich. 3, on the other hand, is all things chocolate 🍫 With her, we need to force her to eat some sort of meal-like food before getting her chocolate. The girls got fruit/ protein smoothies while 1, GB and I ate ham and cheese sandwiches. And yes, 3 got her chocolate Oreo milkshake. She did split it with 1 but unfortunately 1 was under the impression that he had to go through the top of the shake to get to the bottom so she was none too happy to see that he had drank pretty much 3/4 of the shake 🙄 Ugg older brothers 🤨 To be fair we were due for a spat as it had been couple hours so I wasn’t too surprised but still very mom annoyed of why can’t we just behave😒

Now that we were adequately fed and hydrated and somewhat satiated with chocolate we had to figure out how to get back the plaza where we started as that was where our Castle tour was. Now GB is the only one with internet access on this trip. He had a heck of a time setting it up in Barcelona but it just made sense to pay the price for one as it wasn’t cheap. The rest of us could join WiFis as able which definitely cut down on the phone use of snapping and texting, that I was grateful for! But in situations like this, GB is the only one with internet to use Google maps to get us directions walking back to our location. Again GB is amazing but his reading of google/Apple Maps is not the best and he gets turned around easily. Give him a map with streets I have no doubt he will get us there but all the things on google/Apple and where they have you turn just turns him around and throws him off. Not to mention, street names aren’t as easily visible as they are in the USA. At this point it’s about 104 degrees outside and we need to walk about 20 minutes back to the castle. The neck fan for GB was left at home but again in this heat I don’t think anything would have made a difference. We make it back to the castle after lots of “active discussions” (we’ll just go ahead and use that phrase) as the map was trying to have us cut through areas that were not allowed for the public to go through. Our tour guide, knew all the ins and outs of where to walk for short cuts. This walk back to the plaza felt like 5 hours. We did arrive with time to spare allowing us time to buy some water and try to cool off. Now our time for our tour says 2:30 but they will only let you in 15 minutes prior. GB arranged for a private audio tour of the inner rooms of the castle to see where royalty sleeps. He showed the tickets multiple times to security and they kept turning us away…legit they were hard stopping on no more than 15 minutes early. It was to one point where GB went and was told nope you have to wait 1 minute 😧 Well we waited our minute and then he allowed us through to the ticket check. The woman takes our ticket and looks at it and says you better hurry your tour starts soon and you might miss it….are you kidding me lady???? You and the security guy obviously need to have a chat as we were here 30-40 minutes early and we kept getting turned away. So here we are again mad dashing to the area of the royal chambers hoping we make our tour. We show up at the chambers and the guide sees us running and red in the face. We explain our situation and she quickly calms us down. She tells us we are fine, no rush, you are here and all is good. She literally has us all take a deep breath and smile. I almost want to cry. I just want to take her home with me and just keep her in my pocket, having her come out when we are all stressy bessies. She had such a calm mood about her and helped us reset our moods. We get our audio guides and are told we are not allowed to take anything in with us as these are areas used by the royalty today. No pictures, bags, purses…nothing. We lock our things in lockers and off we go. The rooms and ceilings were absolutely breathtaking! Ceilings and doors hand carved from wood with such intricate designs and walls of inlaid tile by hand. We were able to see the rooms where visitors are greeted by the king and queen of Spain. We were able to see where past kings and queens of old slept but unfortunately only saw the doors to where the royal quarters are today for the king and queen. The tour itself took about 45 minutes but the nice thing was is that it was air conditioned!!!! All Bransons were able to cool off and even for a short period of time were not sweaty and appeared our normal skin color 😊 Once the tour was over we were free to explore the rest of the castle at our own pace. So our once rush rush rush not turned into leisure and fun. The smiles were back as we posed and took pics and GB was back to his goofy funny self.

We decided after the castle to go back to the house for relaxing down time as 2 clearly let us know she needed her tanning time 🙄 We are now pros with the taxi getting and made it back to our house in no time. Swim suits were quickly donned and it was hot tub time (minus the hotness of the water of course) 2 got her tanning time and we all got a chance to just hang out no stress and do whatever we wanted.

We all cleaned up after a couple hours of chilling and headed out to dinner. GB had found this place called Ojalá. It was a small tapas place with an ice cream store just outside (3 spotted that the minute we found the restaurant 😋) We arrived around 7:30 so we had to wait to order food as the kitchen did not open till 8. We ordered drinks and played a dice game called CLR. It’s a small easily portable game that involves chips and rolling 3 dice. The sides of the dice are indicated with C (center), L (left), R (right) or • (safe). You are given 3 chips and when you roll the three dice you do what the dice tells you to do: pass to the right, pass to the left, pass to the center, or hold your chip. The one with the chips at the end wins. Needless to say this game has been a lifesaver as it has fit perfectly in my bag being so small and it’s an easy quick game to play to kill time. Before we knew it, it was 8:00 and they were ready to take our order. We basically ordered everything on the menu and everything was amazing!!! The plates just kept coming and it was great because everybody tasted a little bit of everything. 1 and I of course had our fill of fish but everyone at least took a taste of what was given. There was a lentil burger that I was bummed we didn’t try but they didn’t have it as a tapas and there was no way I was eating that burger by myself 🥴

We then of course, headed over to their ice cream and 3 of course got her chocolate ice cream along with 2 and I. I honestly don’t know how I had room for it after all that food but I wasn’t going to pass with how yummy it looked. Plus they had mini waffle cones and I am an absolute sucker for waffle cones…can’t turn them down…I think it’s an addiction that may need intervening 😏

Thank goodness we have our walk home to help aid the digestion with all the food we ate. Again everyone is in a great mood upon getting home. We have some brief wind down time before bed and GB teaches 1 and I how to play cribbage. Yes…I live in Wisconsin and I don’t know how to play cribbage…sad but true…please forgive me🙏🏻

Time for us to turn in…tomorrow we have a 2.5 hour car ride to Tarifa where we will be taking the ferry to Morroco. Our feet will actually be on African soil…can’t wait!!

[ketso]

Episode 23

Keith and I are in Tholoana Kingdom. Senzi’s biological father is doing some sort of ritual for Senzi today. Senzi will be accepting the Maphumulo surname and divorcing the Twala surname. That’s how Wandi explained it to us. This has been quite the time for Wandi and Senzi. But Wandi says that since Senzi’s biological father extended the olive branch to him, he has been a lot more at peace. And I’m happy for him. He needs this and he deserves peace.

We left Risuna with my mother. He cried when he left and that made Keith feel some type of way. But we can’t bring Risuna to these kinds of things. I’ve come here to support the Maphumulo family and help where I can. Risuna would have people thinking ke phuthile matsoho instead of helping out in the house. Maybe when he is a little bit older like Morafe’s kids, I’d be able to take him everywhere because he’d see other kids and just play. But right now, all he wants is Keith and me. And we will both be busy.

We phoned my mom thirty minutes into our drive to Tholoana Kingdom from Sebokeng. She told me that Risuna stopped crying five minutes after we left. He’s now chilling and being busy in his playpen. Keith was relieved. We also know that when Risuna is with my mom, Keith’s mom can pop in and see him any time because she’s right next door. Risuna is very aware of both his grandmothers, and I actually think that it’s beautiful.

We arrive at the location that Wandi sent us at about 9am. Apparently this mansion that we see before us is where Senzi’s biological father lives with his wife and other kids. Lady Laura doesn’t play hey. Have everything or she doesn’t want you at all. Yoh!

Keith and I get out of the car and make our way inside. Morafe finds us first. She and I hug and are super excited to see each other. Someone comes to take Keith. He introduces himself as Reahile. We both say that we are happy to meet him then he and Keith disappear. Morafe and I make our way into the house. Keith finds someone to help him offload all the things my mom made for us to bring with us: four buckets of ginger beer (i.e. gemere) six buckets of baked biscuits and scones, and three containers of amagwinya.

I get into the kitchen and I’m introduced to so many people. Wandi’s mom hugs me as well. When she sees the stuff that we brought coming into the kitchen, she asks me why my mom didn’t come with us.

“She’s looking after Risuna for us”, I tell her.

The guys are already digging into the amagwinya and gemere.

“Heh bathung!” A lady named Letlali says.

Apparently, people haven’t eaten. We are waiting for the rituals to be completed.

“Mah, we are hungry. We’ve been here since 5am. Aowa”, a guy named Mnqobi says. Apparently, it’s her son.

No but these men just finished a whole container. Then older men come - apparently husbands to the women in here. They box the second container… and the third. The wives complained then eventually let them be. When they left with amagwinya and two buckets of gemere, we women helped ourselves to baked scones and biscuits and gemere as well. Mama is definitely the MVP of the morning.

Now people are in their squads. I’m chilling with Morafe.

“Where are the kiddies?” I ask her.

“With my sister. I didn’t want to wake them up too early. Thabang will arrive with them around lunch time”. She says.

“Hai bo! Madam! Wena leThabang?”

She’s been keeping us updated on the WhatsApp group. These two…

“He’s really great with my kids watsiba”, she says.

“And he’s great with you too”, I say.

“He is. I just don’t know if I’m ready. But I might just be forced to marry him”, she says.

“What do you mean?” I ask her.

“Eish chomi. I’ll tell you and Wandi together a bit later on. Is Lady Laura coming?” She asks me.

As the receptionist, I know and hear everything. I’m just professional about it so you’d never know that I know stuff.

“She wanted to shame. Apparently, Wandi’s mom encouraged her to come here and support her son. I mean, Senzi is her son. Yoh, bishop a re nix! He basically said that Lady Laura and Senzi have embarrassed him enough. If she attends this, they are done. She’s not here, so I guess she… you know…”

“Ke sono watsiba. Senzi wabathu.”

“Eish wena”.

Senzi, Wandi and the Maphumulo family finally step into the kitchen where the women are. We hear ululating. We see by their smiles that it’s all peaches and cream. Plus, it’s raining and apparently that’s all related to luck for the ceremony.

We greet Wandi and Senzi. Then we get to meet Senzi’s father, his two brothers - Ntuthuko and Akwande - as well his very nice stepmother, Mme Refiloe. Everyone here calls her Fifi.

This rain is now pouring. Then Wandi has been tasked with washing animal insides. So Morafe and I are helping her. But we are being poured on. Morafe’s phone rings mid our chatter and laughter.

“Thabang”, she answers her phone.

…

“I’m worried about the rain, watsiba”.

…

“Okay. There are some kids here. It’s just… ke bana. They’ll want to play in the rain.”

…

“Okay cool. Ke tla le bona when you get here”.

…

“Shup”.

She hangs up.

Wandi and I both look at her.

“He was asking if he should still bring the kids with the rain and all”, she says.

“You said you might need to marry him. Why?” I ask.

“What?!” Wandi.

Morafe seems a bit down.

“Bryan found me.” She says.

“WHAT?!” Wandi and I both say.

“Yeah. He kept trying to break into our house. Then I asked Thabang to just look after the house while I went home with the kids. Thabang found him. He was taken to a prison and I had to go identify him because he came into the kingdom with a fake ID”, she says.

“Bathung wena!” Me.

“So, when I identified him, the government dealt with him. The next thing, his family comes to my mom’s house and states that now that Bryan is dead, I have to marry his brother so the kids can still be raised in their family. And they want me to go back to Zim with them.”

“MORAFE!” Wandi and I say.

“I obviously said no. I’m not going to Zim and I want nothing to do with that family. Then they said they’d take Tshenolo and Mosetsana because they are their children. My mom told them where to get off because Bryan didn’t even bring a chicken to acknowledge those kids. Those kids are Letuka kids and that’s that. They said they’d fight us. Legally, in Tholoana Kingdom, they can’t touch us. We are protected. Thabang suggested that we get married. If we get married, he will acknowledge my kids and they’ll have his surname. Then he has recourse to actually protect us and fight that family for us.” She says.

“So, what’s your reservation about marrying him?” Wandi.

“He’s married. To two women.” Morafe.

“If you don’t love him, why do you care?” Me.

“I’m worried about how my kids would be received in his family.” Morafe.

“What is he saying about that?” I ask her.

“He says I have nothing to worry about. I just can’t help but worry.” Morafe.

“I say go for it. One, I think you really like him more than you are letting on. Two, you and the kids will have a senatla who has your back. And three, clearly with his influence and position in this country, you’ll be more than untouchable. And four, you’ll get some on a regular basis without the abuse.” Me.

We look at each other. We burst into laughter.

“I’m with Bassie on this one”, Wandi.

Morafe just laughs.

“Ladies”, Mme Refiloe says. I think she came to check on us.

“Hi mme.” we say.

“Nama ishup?” She asks us.

We are actually done washing it. She inspects it then she takes it to go and start cooking it. Then she gives us tasks in the kitchen, the biggest one being that we must mingle with the other girls that are here.

We don’t mind. And we would have done so eventually. We just needed to catch up as well. We haven’t been together like this in a very long time.

…

It’s about 6pm now and we see our women walking towards us with food. Yoh, we are super grateful. We’ve been working in the rain all day surviving on biscuits and scones. We are super exhausted. We actually look around us to see if there are vacant chairs where our women will sit. Negative. But no one is prepared to stand up and get more chairs. These women get here and just sit on top of us, holding plates for us to eat. It seems like they’ve already eaten. Okay… this also works.

“Keith, how are you?” Wandi greets me.

I greet her, hugging her. Bassie is chatting to Senzi as well. Then Morafe greets us as well, introducing us to a man named Thabang. We met as we were all in hard labour together. But now we know whose plus one he is.

It’s just loud here. And everyone is chatting away. I’m just eating. I’m starving. So is Senzi.

“Mama says Risuna has discovered her cupboards now”, Bassie tells me.

I actually just start laughing. He’s a very curious kid and I’m always too scared to leave him unattended.

“So, we could be in shit if he breaks anything because apparently, he likes opening cupboards and chilling in them now.”

I’m just laughing.

“When do you guys head back to South Africa?” Senzi asks me.

“Tomorrow. Then next week we will meet up with everyone in Mtubatuba”. I answer him.

“Why don’t you stay another day? Then we can chill tomorrow without the noise?” Senzi.

“Work. Things have been a bit tricky since…”

I cannot finish my sentence.

“I understand”, Senzi says as he nods his head at me.

“How is she? My moth - … Lady Laura. How is she? Is she okay?” Senzi asks me.

Bassie and I look at each other. Wandi and Senzi look at us. Morafe is also looking in our direction.

I take a deep breath then say, “she’s not coping. She misses you. She asks Bassie and I about you all the time. She asked me if you’d ever forgive her and love her again.”

“And the bishop? He’s not there for her?” Senzi.

“He’s making her pay for what she did… guilt-tripping her every chance he gets… making it seem as if she should make a choice between you and him. And if she chooses you, to him it means that she’s not sorry for what she did. And that you come first over him.” Me.

“The bishop?” Senzi. He’s genuinely shocked.

“Yeah. Like he’s changed. We all don’t recognise him anymore. Their relationship has changed. We don’t recognise it anymore. It’s actually coming across as an abusive relationship now. And since the bishop’s sisters and mother have arrived, it’s worse.” Bassie.

“What?! His family has arrived? Living where? And to do what?” Senzi.

“It’s insane. They’ve taken over the church. They seem to have taken over Lady Laura’s house. And they threaten to send her back to Ghana every chance they get”, Bassie needs to stop over sharing this information.

Senzi is seriously disturbed.

“Why is Lady Laura allowing all of this to happen?” Wandi enquires.

“Yeah… I mean this is completely unlike her”, Morafe says. The Thabang guy looks extremely uncomfortable with this entire conversation.

“Maybe she wants to leave or fight or something, but if the bishop rejects her, she’s scared she might not even have Senzi to comfort her”, Bassie.

Senzi’s jaws tighten.

“Love, please walk me to the restroom”, Wandi says.

We know she’s saying that they need to talk.

Senzi nods his head. They both stand up then walk away.

…

We are back at our hotel now. We are literally walking into our hotel room at 6am. That event was lit. After eating, people were drinking and dancing… in the rain!

I feel very drunk. Bassie is more than tired. She heads to the bathroom but doesn’t say what she is going there to do. I just hear the shower water go off and I know she’s showering before bed. I decide to undress and join her.

I get into the shower and she receives me well. She first hides her c-section scar. Why would she hide that from me? She gave me my son through that scar.

“You are so sexy. That scar is the sexiest thing about you”, I tell her.

She smiles at me then says, “But it’s so ugly”.

“It’s stunning. It’s the most beautiful mark on your body”, I say.

I walk towards her. She wraps her legs around me. I’m instantly hard. The thing is, I’m drunk. And if we slip and fall in this shower, one of us could come out extremely injured.

So I decide to shut the water then carry her out of the shower.

I lead her to our bed then I lay her down like the queen that she is. She starts playing with herself, making me watch her. I can feel myself getting hard, about to go crazy actually.

She starts making noises of pleasure.

I can’t hold back anymore. I enter her. And I ride her like a drunk bull. I actually cum so quickly, I feel like I’ve left her unsatisfied. As I catch my breath, she climbs on top of me, ready to make sure that she is equally satisfied before we go to sleep. And fuck she rides me. She comes for everything I have that’s left within my drunk and tired body. She rides me, touching herself and using her finger to help my penis pleasure herself. I’ve never seen her like this. I’m the one who’s about to have a second cuming. And when she shakes, I’m so thankful because I know that my penis had finished a job that my drunk state couldn’t allow me to finish.

She climbs off me, says goodnight then sleeps. I hold her. She lets me. We sleep.

I wake up first the morning after. My penis still feels quite painful. This girl worked on me last night. Clearly.

I stretch a bit then reach for my phone. I see a few missed calls from my mother. I quickly call her back.

“Keith, hello”. She answers her phone.

“Mme, hi.”

“Why haven’t you been answering your phone? And you sound like you are still asleep? At this time, Keith? It’s after 1pm.”

Why is she shitting on me exactly?

“Mme, what do you need?” I ask her.

“I wanted to know if you were back in South Africa yet. Your father and I want to talk to you boys about something important and we will be having an intervention for Michael and Masingita. Masingita says that Michael moved out and is now living with a love child and its mother. She says she doesn’t want a divorce, so she’s asked the family to intervene.”

So much drama? I just woke up.

“Mme, I’m still in Tholoana Kingdom. We will probably only be back that side tonight. Bassie is still sleeping. We will come see you when we come to pick up Risuna then we can talk about this properly. We will probably have to meet another day.” I say.

“Okay. I understand. But tonight, can we at least all discuss what your father and I need to discuss with you?” She says.

“We could be back quite late, Mme.” Me.

“Bathung Keith, please try to make it back at least by 8pm hle.” She says.

“Mme, we will talk. Let me wake up and start my day.”

She sounds hacked but I’m not going to break road rules just so she can tell me that she’s having sex with my dad again.

I check my messages and I see something from Noria. What now?!

I open the message.

It reads, “I miss you. I still cannot believe that she stole you from me.”

I literally delete it with immediate effect and block her. I look at Bassie peacefully sleeping. No one is coming between us. No one.

[sambinnie]

1. Happy Mabon! Every autumn, I forget that the darkness comes clanging down in a great rush in the mornings. One day, I am greeted by a pinking sunrise. 48 hours later, it’s so dark on my run to the river that I have to stop a passing runner and check the time, in case my disturbed sleep sent me dressing and leaving the house at 2am. This summer may not have given us those mornings where it’s so hot I can barely get out of the water, where those early hours feel like full silent days carved out just for me to sit in the light and wait for everyone else to wake up, where the only extra thing I put on to run home is my trainers — I look at my waiting winter gear, neoprene socks and gloves, head torch, two more thickening jumpers, hat, thermal mittens — but every season, every day, is beautiful.

Today we go early for celebrations, and the water is silky, and Orion hangs over us with his phallic sword dangling and Betelgeuse winking on one shoulder. The near-full moon spotlights us and I feel almost ready for the shortening days.

2. Hilary Mantel continues to be a literary god. How does she write with that clarity? How can I ever speak with her calm good sense and wit? 

3. We have two main problems at the moment, as far as I can see. a) What we’re doing (“curating” our lives; twitter spats; purity spirals; division and isolation; wanting ‘debates’ that can only be won or lost; encouraging people to buy more things; trying to buy our happiness; letting marketers tell us how we feel about the world rather than encouraging major moral lessons from throughout the ages to challenge us on our weaknesses; refusing to accept that life is suffering; asking self-care to be a plaster for everything we don’t have) and b) what we’re not doing (joining together to stand against those with more money and power; protecting the people who have even less power and voice than we do as a matter of course; learning from history; protecting nature above all else; prioritising going for walks; learning to repair things and campaigning to make things repairable; having a basic belief in human dignity for all, not just those with whom we agree; accepting that truly, we are all different and no amount of shaming or disgust will change that; working to shape our societies, culture, economies, production, food supplies and communications around improving — not just sustaining — the air, water and land, and fighting to ensure all of those new shapes protect women and children).

Individualism has morphed into something so completely self-destructive that we’ve forgotten we need nature more than anything — literally, more than anything — and we need to unionise and unite and put aside differences and work together even with people we don’t like. 

Because when there are wicked people in power, when it’s genuinely exhausting to think about all the corrupt, venal, toxic, divisive, false, and cruel things they have done since coming to power, those people love to watch everyone below pointing their fingers at one another, saying, You, You’re The Enemy, You’re The Problem, while corrupt populist leaders rub their bellies and chuckle at another promise broken, another mass death on their hands, another building site on a protected forest. Do you understand the stakes here? Do you understand that it’s actual survival? It’s not about being right any more, it’s not about besting someone in the argument. It’s about having decision makers who can not only ensure there is still food to eat and air to breathe, but that relations both within a country and between countries are built on care, and support, and compassion, and believing in human dignity. And while it sounds wishy-washy and hands-clappy it’s the schmaltzy, sentimental truth. It’s the only one, really. 

If we instead continue to believe every single day that my feelings are the most important, that my beliefs are the right ones, that I’ve got to prove those baddies there are evil and awful and wrong, then honestly, what the fuck? If we’re happy to live in a country where hostile architecture is the starting point for all public builds, where we send refugee boats away from our shores, where affiliate links are a career goal, where we haven’t stormed the Daily Mail offices with accounts of all our lovely immigrant friends and family and had a huge feast together and compared our long and tangled family trees, then come on. It’s only a race to the bottom if we all keep running. 

Because, pressingly, whatever the spark of a major global conflict — assassination, fuel shortages, hyperinflation, invasion — the kindling is almost always a populace fed pure hatred for months, for years, until they can’t even taste it anymore but are ready to spew it out again, and are ready to use another populace as the receptacle. And hatred is brewed up in silence and isolation, and in the ashes of bridges burned between disparate groups. 

And on that note, I’m not a conspiracy theorist, mainly because I don’t believe governments are generally competent enough to manage Grand Plans, but it’s annoying that technology and social trends and culture have developed in such a way that no one knocks on anyone’s door for a chat as a matter of course now, that it’s a given that a ringing phone triggers anxiety, that it’s not the norm for cups of tea with your neighbours, that we don’t know each other’s neighbourhoods, that we don’t even talk on the phone, with live words and intonation and synchronised laughter, but in text, in WhatsApp chats, in tapped out words and symbols that we know can be screen-grabbed and misinterpreted, that we know are kept, filtered and sold by the tech companies. It’s not a conspiracy. It’s just a reality that every single one of us can choose to do differently. 

Sometimes exactly the right thing comes along at the right time. All of us here watched About a Boy at the weekend, a film which is so wonkily weighted and oddly rhythmed, but a perfect depiction of everything I’m banging on about here. Hugh Grant’s character likes being alone. He’s happy that way. It suits him. It’s his choice. Then, between one thing and another, he finds himself drawn into a world of a suicidal single mother, a duck-murdering young boy, more single mothers, more tricky teens, plus exes and mothers-in-law and awkward support groups. And it turns out that actually, being with people is better. Being uncomfortable often develops you as a person. Constantly prioritising only yourself produces a waxen, pointless baby. Making shared sacrifices might just be the point of being alive. Remember that to be human is to be flawed. That no one is ever completely right, and no one is ever completely wrong. That the boring stuff makes us feel good, and the glossy stuff, if all we strive for is gloss, doesn’t. 

If you want anything practical, here are the things that have really helped me over the last few years:

Writing a letter or email regularly to my MP, to CEOs of organisations, to anyone I want to communicate my strong feelings and how I’d like things to be done better. Tweeting eats your soul. It’s a horrible myth the media pretends is important. It really, really isn’t.

Inviting people to go in front of me in queues, in traffic, getting on to buses and trains. It lowers my stress levels right down.

Learning the names of my neighbours and people I meet regularly on walks and letting them learn mine. (I definitely haven’t just decided I loathe a neighbour because they cut a bird-hatching tree down in their garden on the last day of the year it was legal to do so. It’s fine.)

Joining a few political parties, and the closest thing I have to a union

Making something, anything — everything can be done with love, and learning to not get sucked into the capitalist conceit of having to make it perfect, sellable, exhibitable is a genuine gift to yourself; making a cake or a film or a coaster and not putting it on social media, letting it be ugly or serviceless and loving it anyway. I felt extremely overwhelmed the other evening, but instead of doom-scrolling I knitted a… I don’t know, something flat and woollen, and it helped to have my hands and eyes working on directionless introspective creation. 

Trying to stop hating. Every time I want to tell a negative story in my head about someone, I attempt to turn it into something positive: how unhappy that person must be, what they must be missing out on. It’s so nauseatingly Pollyanna-ish, and of course it isn’t always successful, and of course every single day brings a hundred thousand examples of cruelty and injustice and wickedness, but the alternative only makes my life feel worse, so why would I indulge that? 

Teaching myself the names of birds, trees, flowers, clouds and constellations. I’m still at the most basic levels on all of these, but the difference one feels in the world when you can name things  — let alone use them and know their stories — is a very real sort of magic. (For that reason I hope to read this book very soon.) This episode of The Cut is also good on the wonder and power of learning the names of the weeds that grow in your nearest pavement crack. 

4. Creating anything is always a gamble, isn’t it, but writing a book you actually like for once and seeing it slowly and beautifully sink to the bottom of a river never to be seen again is ever so slightly crushing. However, it turns out even Thom Yorke feels that way, so I am comforted. 

5. I’m sure I’ve mentioned plenty of these before, but if you want some suggestions of where to find joy, here are my favourites from the last year or so:

I was given Lucy Easthope’s book, When the Dust Settles, for work recently, and I was surprised and delighted to discover the most uplifting, hopeful, human and rightfully angry book I’ve read in a long time. Do yourself a favour and preorder it. I bought this other book for my own birthday, gave it to a housemate to give to me, forgot about it, and was delighted to later unwrap He Used Thought As A Wife. Laughed a lot, cried twice. Marvellous. 

Now even the youngest housemate here can recite John Finnemore sketches and sing the songs. Has also taught them various composers, gods, logical fallacies and gothic story tropes. Also v funny. Oh, Kate Beaton! Her two books (Hark! A Vagrant and Step Aside Pops) are a bit like a comic-book version of Finnemore, but swearier and sexier and utterly unsuitable for all the housemates who have read it and been educated about the Brontes, Katherine Sui Fun Cheung, Tom Longboat, Nancy Drew, Ida B. Wells, Sacagawea, and the Borgias. 

Had to give Inside a restraining order against me for the sake of us all, but Bo Burnham’s Eighth Grade is a masterpiece of writing, acting, sound design and optimism. Spy is dumb action comedy polished to perfection, and Yasujirō Ozu’s Good Morning seems like the inspiration for almost all US arthouse films since 1990, and is also beautiful, funny, thoughtful, and good. 

Taylor Swift’s Evermore, like all brilliant albums, isn’t completely perfect. But most of the songs are. And Hole’s classic Live Through This is still just ideal for turning up very, very loud after a tricky day, for the enjoyment of any neighbours who may have hacked down a bird-friendly tree on the last day of February. 

Watched both series of Liam Williams’ Ladhood when I had a week off this summer, and really relished the location, the intention, and the writing. More please. 

Miles Jupp and Justin Edwards continue to be my comforting bedtime listening in In and Out of the Kitchen. Has it ruined Nigel Slater for me? Well, a bit, but no more than any of us deserved. 

I thought this would be a book I’d mumble through the first chapter of, then let get buried in my To Read pile, never to re-open. Instead, I found Whatever Happened to Margo? laugh-out-loud funny, drily written, and full of humanity. Excellent Women has made me want to read everything written by Barbara Pym, a goal I am slowly but surely working towards. 

6. I’ve spent the last few years trying to find hazelnut trees, and finally found a copse between a car park and a play area, full of nuts the squirrels hadn’t noticed. Now I’ve found them, the spell has been cast and I see hazel trees everywhere, on walks and on pavements and running along motorway slip roads. A tray of green and brown frilled hazelnuts now dries with the laundry. They are so beautiful. 

[syms-things-5]

Clear The Area - Chapter 10

Previous Chapter HERE

Warnings: Language

Summary: Back on set, Chris struggles to take his mind of things...

Chapter Ten

It had rained non-stop since Chris arrived back in Georgia which was rather befitting for his mood. The unexpected thunder and lightning had delayed some planned outdoor shots from that morning, with weather reports suggesting more was to come over the weekend. Chris was starting to wonder if he’d ever see Boston again.

“I could come and visit if you want? Keep you company?” Scott offered, downing the last of his glass containing whatever he managed to find in Chris’ liquor cabinet. He would have grabbed the next flight to Atlanta if Chris had asked him to. It was just the habit of him now to offer to do so wherever he was filming in the world.

“Nah, it’s OK. I told my Agent to tell them I had a family thing coming up so they know I can’t stay here for long.”

They had been on a video call for the past couple of hours, though not constantly talking. Scott had taken another call from a friend and Chris had been treated to a star-struck pizza delivery guy on his doorstop, but this was a nice comfort for them both. Chris was lounging around his cosy apartment in sweats and toyed with the idea of visiting the building’s gym to relieve come tension; tension that had built up in him since he inadvertently found himself face to face to Jenny 24 hours previous. Among the small production crowd that had gathered on location yesterday evening, they’d exchange brief pleasantries with him successfully dodging a hug she had initiated. Matt kept a keen eye on the media and thankfully nothing of note was registering online other than typical minor fan gossip but he could live with that. He resolved to keep his head down, get the shots in the can, and get out of there as fast as he could.

“Do you think we should look at getting that place booked again?” Scott asked, absent-mindedly scrolling through something on his phone.

“Huh? What place?”

“That cabin we stayed at in Vermont last year. That one looking over the lake? I literally just mentioned it to you. Have you not been listening to me? Mom wants to go again for her birthday.”

“Sorry, I was thinking about something else. Yeh, sure. I think I have the email of the owner somewhere. I’ll dig it out and we can take a look. Why that place?”

“It was nice and she liked having that separate guest house for Carly and the kids. It had that huge veranda with the barbecue pit. Wasn’t that where Shan thought she saw a snake?” Scott laugh at the sudden memory that had come rushing back to his mind, and Chris nearly spat out his drink.

“Oh yeh, now I remember. She freaked and wouldn’t come outside again!” he was laughing louder now and fell back on to his couch. “Jeez. We definitely have to go back now if only for that. She’ll have it.”

“We should probably not say that to Mom, though. Maybe stick to the script on this one.” Scott laughed again. “So, you coping OK?”

Chris shrugged indifferently as if he didn’t know what Scott was hinting at. It was uncomfortably humid and he was fighting off a carb come from his pizza; he really didn’t want to to get into anything too deep at this point in the day.

“Come on, don’t give me that. You’ve been a bag of anxiety for the past few weeks. I take it she’s texting you still?”

“Not really, just the usual stuff. I can handle it.”

“Just make sure you’re careful while you’re there, alright? That divorce looks nasty and you don’t wanna get wrapped up in it any more than you already are. Don’t give her any more rope to tie you with.”

“Have you been talking to Matt about me?!” Chris asked, suddenly feeling affronted. “Cos I know what I’m doing, OK? I’m not a complete idiot.”

“Only in passing. we buy the same gym clothes. And I’m not saying you’re an idiot. You just have a habit lately of thinking with something else outside of your brain.” Scott pushed back. He was leaning into his iPad a little more as if to ensure his words were getting through to Chris, now sitting a thousand miles away. 

“Not all of my decisions are bad ones.” Chris shook his head in objection and he may well have believed it had he not also been keenly aware that, deep down, he’d been feeling like he was veering away from the straight and narrow of late and if Scott was picking up on it, then it was definitely a cause for concern. But there was a time and a place to assess his life choices and this was not it.

“You’ve been really, really distracted lately. Mom’s noticed it as well. Is it just this film or is there something else you’re not telling me?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m fine! I’ve got, what, four more days here and then I’m back home for the rest of the year. You can life coach me then. Honestly, I’m good. You don’t need to worry.”

Scott returned the frown and continued scrolling through his phone. Things were a bit messed up these days, Chris couldn’t exactly deny it. He didn’t know whether he was coming or going, with filming, his career, and wanting to leave LA. behind on a more permanent basis. He wasn’t getting any younger. Work aside, Jenny hadn’t particularly factored into his thoughts as much as his brother and others had assumed she had but he couldn’t very well admit to that given the alternative. In some ways, what had been happening with Sarah had very much been an indicator of what was missing from his life and what he desperately wanted to focus on. As much as they have both promised they would keep things civil and normal, there was something of a distance growing between them now, an ability to talk openly and honestly. If it hadn’t been for him lazing around their apartment the last few days before he flew out of town, he probably wouldn’t have talked to her or even seen her again. She hadn’t responded to a group WhatsApp joke he sent the other day, and she hadn’t responded again after he forwarded a cute picture of a labrador wearing medical scrubs. If there was one thing that always guaranteed you a response, it was dogs dressed as humans. He tried to put her in the back of his mind and focus on getting the film finished.

“We should put you and Sarah in a room together. Might get you both back to normal.” Scott may have intended his comment to be offhanded as he looked down at his phone again but Chris found himself keen to explore what he meant.

“What’s going on? Has she said something?”

“I was hoping you;’d know more to be honest. You practically live with them now.” Scott insinuated. “Mom says she’s been working loads and when she’s not working, she’s sleeping. That stuff with Charlotte’s really messed her up, I guess.”

He felt guilty hearing this. He hovered over her name and contemplated sending her a casual text but what could he say that didn’t sound as fraught as he was feeling? He could be funny and check Shanna hadn’t killed her. Maybe he could fake some emergency? OK, now you’re just being ridiculous, Chris thought to himself. And desperate. But sometimes, desperate times call for desperate measures...

Chris 18.02pm: This feels weird

He chucked his phone to his side hoping he would stop thinking about it if he paid it no attention. He got up to get another beer from his fridge and spied the pre-made protein shakes that had been waiting for him upon his arrival. He knew he should be in the gym. He knew he shouldn’t have eaten a full pizza when he was supposed to be maintaining his training plan so he would feasibly look the same as before production wrapped the first time. As he rubbed his hand over his softer stomach he found it increasingly hard to care. He could figure that out another time.

As he stared into the abyss, he heard his phone vibrate on his couch. Against his better judgement he could feel a fluttering start in his stomach and he prayed to whomever was listening that he could just, for once, catch a fucking break.

Sarah 18.14pm: I know. I’m sorry. There’s a lot going on right now

He could picture her typing and deleting messages over and over again like she always did, chronically unsure of herself, and figured he should probably give her a break also.

Chris 18.17pm: I understand. Just miss talking to you. Scott’s not as friendly and he doesn’t laugh at my jokes

Sarah 18.18pm: :)

OK, an emoji. That’s a good start, he would take that.

Chris 18.21pm: how’s work?

Sarah 18.24pm: Busy but good. Today I removed a dice from a kids nose

Chris burst out laughing, leaning back onto his couch. They enjoyed listening to Sarah recount her days and the fairly bizarre stuff she ended up being witness to. He enjoyed himself even more watching his mother recoil in horror and fleeing the room when she was being particularly graphic.

“Woah! What is it? What’s going on?” Scott shouted through the screen, first in shock and then confusion. He’d forgotten Scott was even there. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh it’s...nothing. Shouldn’t you be heading to dinner?”

“Oh fuck, yeh. Don’t wanna give him another reason to be pissed off with me. I’ll catch you later, yeh?”

“Don’t worry about it. If I don’t hear from you again, I’ll assume you lovebirds have kissed and made up.”

Scott huffed. “Fat chance.”

A quick click and he was gone leaving Chris smiling at his phone like an idiot. He wondered if she could tell her was happy to finally hear from her, that they were joking, that a smiling emoji had been enough to lift the funk he was currently in.

Chris 18.33pm: I’m so jealous of you right now...

Sarah 18.36pm: Ha! Georgia can’t be that bad

Chris 18.37pm: I’d much rather be there

That wasn’t even half the story.

Four Days Earlier

He shouldn’t have been looking at her curled up on the couch. He shouldn’t have been focussing on the subtle way her throat moved when she swallowed a spoonful of mint choc chip from the bowl placed precariously in her lap, or the way her eyes crinkled when she chuckled at something funny in the film. Or her toes curling and then uncurling from inside her stripy red socks. What even were they watching again? Oh, The Other Guys. Shanna had chosen it and he’d been stuck ever since he’d arrived at theirs, beer in hand, hopeful for some last-minute fun before he had to return to Savannah.

Sarah leaned down the side of the couch to grab her bottle from off the floor and he blinked away as she took a long drink. He excused himself and got up from the couch. The kitchen windows were wide open and he breathed the fresh air in. This was getting ridiculous. His sister was a mere three feet away from him for fuck’s sake.

“What’s up with you?” Shan asked. She had followed him in without him realising, grabbing some more ice cream from their freezer. “If you’re bored, go out. I’m sure there’s people who’d love to entertain you for the night.” She rolled her eyes.

“Oh fuck off, I’m not bored. I’m just stretching my legs is all. It’s not against the law, is it?” he practically spat back at her. He regretted it when he saw her stunned expression. “Sorry.”

“I don’t know what has gotten into you lately but can you please sort it out before you’re back? I really don’t need Mom bothering me every hour asking me what you’re up to while you’re here. It’s getting ridiculous.” She turned and left the kitchen, the full tub in hand, unwilling to allow the mood he was clearly in to mess up her evening of doing nothing.

Maybe it was a bad idea to come here tonight. Shanna was probably right. He should have tried distracting himself with something, or someone, else only now he didn’t much feel like going out. He wasn’t dressed right, his phone only had 5% battery, and he was bored of the local bars which surprised even himself.

“Are you OK?” Sarah asked quietly, unsure of whether he’d heard her at first until he looked up from where he was sat at the table. She placed her bowl on the side of the sink and he allowed himself a brief moment of respite in thinking he decided so come just so she could check up on him.

“Yeh. Sorry for disturbing your evening.” He gave her his best sheepish smile.

Sarah brushed him off, “Don’t worry about it but if you want any ice cream, you should get some fast before Shan finished it off.”

“I think she might stab me with her spoon if I tried that.” He wasn’t kidding.

“I keep forgetting to mention this to you but I still have that dress, um, if you need to give it back to Matt or someone? Shan said she was going to keep hers but I wasn’t sure what to do about it.”

She was nervously playing with her hands and for a split second, he saw her with softly curly hair and the jewellery she wore with it on the night. That night. That night that had fucked him up in more ways than one. He could pinpoint his recent mood shift back to that night at the party, dealing with his drunken friends and the photographs that kept cropping up on the internet even now, so long afterwards, with people carefully dissecting every inch of his place that was on show, trying to work out if he was with someone. It wasn’t Jenny or the thought of being back on that set that was concerning to him but rather that the only time he’d felt happy and alive in recent weeks was when he was existing in the same room as his sister’s best friend. Sarah was somewhat calming to him. She had shit to deal with and so did he but he didn’t have to hide it in the same way he did with his family. And now, as she stood in front of him in her two-sizes-too-big hoodie and sweatpants, he wanted nothing more than to throw himself at her and let her hold him for a minute.

“You should keep it.” He nodded gently at her after what was undoubtedly too long a pause. “It looks good on you.”

“Oooh you should wear it on your date with Greg!” Shanna announced, making her presence known as she reached up for the chocolate sauce from the top of the fridge.

“It’s not a date!” Sarah denied as quickly as Shanna had opened her mouth. If Chris had been trying to hide the flash of unease that just moved across his face, he’d failed entirely. She turned back to the Chris. “It’s just a work thing.”

Shanna’s eyebrows looked like they were about to leave her forehead in surprise. “It is definitely a date and if you wear that dress, he’ll be all over you.”

Present day...

Shanna had a knack for creating awkward moments. If Chris had focussed hard enough, he could have grabbed the sauce bottle out of her hand and thrown it at the back of her head with unnerving accuracy. Except it wouldn’t have made him feel any better from the needling feeling he was getting in his stomach, it wouldn’t have served any purpose whatsoever. It certainly wouldn’t have stopped Sarah from practically blanking him for the rest of the evening.

He knew it wasn’t a date no matter how hard Shanna had been insinuating it was. According to Lisa, the UAPD was throwing a networking event of sorts to introduce doctors in the North East to medical Reps and unionists from across the country. The website he’d looked at made it seem akin to some kind of political rally that he used to attend alongside his Uncle, filled with men and women in smart but unremarkable suits holding clipboards and throwing their contact details around like candy. It appeared, by many accounts, to be a relatively full affair. He was surprised she had agreed to go. He’d never much figured her for a “company-man”.

Chris 19.35pm: Enjoy your night. Don’t speak to any strange men.

She was probably being bored to death by one as he spoke. He hoped she’d see his message and smile and be relieved that she had the option of someone else to entertain her during the long speeches if she had wanted but after a few hours of nothing he gave up hoping and resigned himself to a long night’s rest. This was probably for the best. He was tired and had a long day ahead of him if they had any chance of catching up on the missed scenes from today, and he’d be damned if he was staying here beyond Monday night.

He enjoyed a long, long shower and brushed his teeth before climbing into bed with his iPad to read over the new sides for tomorrow’s shoot in the park.

Sarah 11.38pm: Nope starange men. Just me lol

Chris 11.44pm: Wow....are you drunk??!!

Bless her. He could imagine her and Audrey giving up the speeches and making the most of the free bar. He’ll have to make sure to invite Audrey to his next gathering.

Sarah 11.48pm: On a school night. Sssssshhhhh

Chris 11.49pm: Shame behaviour, Ms Bernette

Sarah 11.54pm: As if your’e not doing the same

Chris 11.56pm: I’ll have you know I am tucked up in bed like a good boy

Sarah 11.58pm: Thats disappppointing Christopher

He couldn’t explain the thrill he got from her using his full name. He couldn’t recall her ever using it in the years she’s known him.

Chris 12.03am: I’ll have to make up for it when I’m home ;)

Sarah 12.08am: Can’t wait to seee that. I like drunk Christopher

Drunk Christopher was a fucking idiot, he thought, and she was one of a few people who knew that better than anyone. Drunk Christopher was someone who made risky decisions and initiated impromptu dance competitions against people who would wipe the floor with him. He was someone who pulled out his cap shield without anyone having to ask, and enjoyed drinks he could set fire to. What was his excuse for being an idiot here and now? He certainly wasn’t drunk, not even remotely so, but he’d be lying if he didn’t feel slightly light-headed at the thought of Sarah wanting his attention.

Chris 12.12am: Are you wearing the dress?

Three dots quickly appeared then disappeared. A few minutes passed and he saw them again, transfixed by what might have been going through her mind, what was she wanting to say to him then thinking better of?

Sarah 12.21am: Not anymore

Fuck. He knew what he wanted to say back; he’d been at this rodeo many times before. He’d even typed out and stared at his screen before deciding against sending it. She was drunk and clearly not thinking straight, and he didn’t want her to see messages she would come to regret in the morning and push her further away from him. It wasn’t right of him to corner her, not like this. If this was something they were going to explore, they’d need to be face to face and not three sheets to the wind.

It was going to be a long week.

*

[wooowthanks]

An open letter about my time at Grace Youth Klang.

I first joined when I was 13. It felt like I didn’t fit in - I was too old for GCC, too young to truly understand the youth. I flitted around, unsteady, slowly learning, slowly observing. But I thrived, eventually, even though I remained the “quiet” one there. I was forced into a zone far from my comfort. I learnt about media, taking photos and videos while not knowing what the butt an ISO was. I helped in events, in fundraising, in leading teams in camp even though I was definitely NOT a people person. I won, three years in a row (still a braggable achievement). I lead the worship team (tried), working my way up from being a backup singer. I learnt how to harmonise. I became a “leader”.

I’ve noticed - so many people, so many adults, see the easier parts. They see us hanging around at the foyer, laughing too loudly while collecting forms. They see us always at church, playing games, never leaving Taman Chi Liung restaurant. They see us taking an Instagram story of Kevin and Teo playing around, of us lying down on the somewhat clean 2nd Hall floors.

But what they focus on is this - us speaking up when we disagree with something. Our tendency towards “defying authority”. Our “laziness” when we can’t commit to yet another thing, yet another event. Our lack of cooperation. Our inability towards working with whatever person they put to lead us. Our inability to submit to authority. Our inability to bow down, and accept things for what it is.

What they don’t see, what they didn’t see - we were still just kids. We were leaders yes, but we were still youths who didn’t have a pastor to guide them. They didn’t see that we were still young people, trying to make it better for the younger ones, figuring out the unknown slowly. They didn’t see the time we so carefully carved out, from piles of university assignments to come to church for practice. They didn’t see the Sunday lunches we take so late to collect forms, and the times we leave our late lunches to collect more from those who couldn’t do it earlier. They didn’t see the personal problems we had- the burnout of giving and not receiving, the family problems, the friendships lost, the emotional turmoil. They didn’t see the numerous night long meetings held to discuss ways to improve the youth, ways to be better, to foster the spirit of excellence in everything we do. They didn’t see the times we unfailingly attended our prayer meetings and cell groups on Fridays after hours long of standing in the KTM, or the month long trainings or camp meetings we had every Saturday morning. They didn’t see the WhatsApp messages that the leaders sent to keep up with the youth, they didn’t see how those texts grew into friendships that were/ are treasured. They didn’t see that we didn’t have the time for ourselves, because we so willingly invested it in the youth.

...how could they say that we were cliquish, when all we had were one another?

Being a leader wasn’t great, but it was good, sometimes. I truly treasure all that happened in my years serving. I learnt to get a thick skin, because people are going to tell you that your work isn’t good enough and that you aren’t cut out for it, even though you’ve already given years. Because after serving non stop and feeing burnt out... maybe I just “wasn’t made for serving”, right?. I’ve gotten the chance to meet so many types of people - from the ones who will preach about knowing every single name and yet never refer you by your name despite asking for it 3 times, to the friends who will cry with you in the KTM, ready with a hug, when empty cans start to make noise. I’ve gotten to learn about myself, to work my way towards the career I will ultimately choose, I’ve gotten my first hand experience on handling clients civilly, when someone wanted the youth logo to be rainbow coloured. I’ve learned to stand up for myself, to stand up for others, to ask questions always, because it’s the right thing to do. You build each other up, you correct one another. You do not keep quiet when you know something is wrong.

Being a “leader” isn’t a cool title to bear, nor does it mean the cool custom shirts that we made and paid for ourselves at the start for use in formal events. It means sweeping the 2nd Hall floor, stacking up the chairs, early mornings and late nights for preparations, meetings with mistakes thrown at you, trainings that you sacrifice weekends for, agendas you disagree with being pushed at you. It means doing the things that people don’t see you doing, and getting called lazy, anyway.

I’m not going to say that I’ll forget the bad times here. I’ll remember the terrible politics in a place that’s supposed to be used to glorify god, I’ll remember the adults that smile at you and gossip behind your back, I’ll remember the manipulation, the lies, the misuse of “God told me to do it” or “God spoke to me” to justify a decision that is so clearly not thought through. I’ll remember the hypocrites who’ve showed everyone just how holy they are, and how they can never do wrong. I’ll remember the people who “cared” about the youth so much that they spread around about how the leaders just stayed because they cared for their positions.

When I attended SIB that one rare time, I remember someone sharing about a youth saying this to a pastor, “thank you for letting us make mistakes”. Maybe that’s what’s lacking all this while - the ability to make mistakes and to grow from them without fear. We’ve made our mistakes, yes, but each one has turned to a weight that constantly adds unto our shoulders, a fault to add unto a long list of how we always fall short.

We’ve made our mistakes, but so has some of those in authority. But instead of giving the same treatment we’ve received, we’re expected to submit to authority, unfailingly, unquestionably. But well... we’re not the first to leave, and we’re not even the second. And in all of this - we weren’t the common denominator.

Honestly, I could go on and on. About their faults, about my hurt, about my own faults. But from all of that, apart from the lessons I’ve learnt, what I’ll want to remember is this: the time Aaron Koh spilled coffee into Dillen’s nose when we all lied down in the main hall, tired from setting up for Starry Night. The time we found puppies in the drain and washed the stink out of them and got them adopted. Making wire tags for Hydrowar in the second hall. Our voices cracking when we can’t reach a note. Early first day of camp mornings and the rush to get campers settled. The late nights in camp, eating our dinners when the campers ate their suppers. Prepping for GA gifts and camp junk food with Cheryl. Building the whole stage deco wrongly twice and then building it up again only to realise that it’s upside down. Playing “bang” or uno in the multipurpose room. Soaking sessions with the committee, just one guitar, maybe one piano, and a whole bunch of young adults crying for more. BR with David, JRR and Aaron. Honey chicken rice at Taman Chi Liung, and peanut butter milkshakes at Pink Dugong after. The tired, bittersweet feeling after camps, putting the stuff back from the vans and lorries. Lying on the wheelchair ramp, too tired to move after camp at Ipoh. Ranting with Aaron Shawn. Khishan’s horrible watermelon gummies, and him making the church yeet. Josh Tan laughing so hard that he snorted maggi out his nose. Prepping for Sunday group sharing/ devo with Sam Swee at McDs. Chermaine and Cheryl teaching me how to harmonise. And so many other more that I can’t name, because that would take ages.

I left grace youth after I turned 21. I’ve lost my faith, and I’ve tried (am trying?) to rebuild it. I’ve lost some friends, and got people who now mean so much more. I’ve learnt that there’s a time to fight, and that there’s a time when fighting will never be enough. And I know I’ve left the youth earlier on, in January, and now Grace itself, but it feels apt to leave a grammar mistake ridden, ranty post about my time in youth because it’s where I’ve grown so immensely. I will miss it, but it’s time to be at places we will grow.

[lisinfleur]

I Dare You

Author’s Notes | I tried to flee a little from the box in this request. I hope you like it, babe! Universe | Vikings Pairing | Hvitserk x Reader Info | Modern AU, College AU, requested by @moonlightsspirit for 5CW5 Words | 2546 ⁑ Warnings: ANGST, mentions of wounds, accidents, hospital stuff, betrayal, exposition, and humiliation. Caution is recommended: the following content may be triggering.

It was just a dare.

A double dare.

Not he was a fucking child and would fall for every double dare he would hear in his life, but to a double dare with ten thousand included was hard to say no.

But now, Hvitserk was asking himself if it had really worth the price. Of course, his friends wouldn't keep the mouth shut. Of course, Arvid wouldn't lose the chance to share the video he sent to prove he was with you and win that stupid bet, with every single one of the boys who tried so hard to be by your side and were rejected by what they used to call your "bad temper".

It took months for Hvitserk to understand it wasn't a bad temper. But exactly the opposite: you were a sweet loving girl who had suffered before with a jerk of a boyfriend and became afraid of new relationships because of him.

And now, Hvitserk had fucked up everything for you again by sharing a video of the two of you having sex in his room to win a fucking bet that he shouldn't have accepted.

He should conquer you. Take you to his bed and prove to everyone he was the fucking stallion of the group, irresistible even to the coldest of the hearts.

But the fact was that he slowly fell in love with your sweet manners and the way you were such a lovely woman.

However, his pride was aching with Arvid's words mocking him on the boy's group at WhatsApp, saying he was nothing like he said, he couldn't fulfill his word... Arvid took him to the limit where he posted the video to prove himself.

Without thinking...

Now the boys were laughing at your surprised face, all looking at you from Hvitserk's back, surrounding him. Arvid smiling.

"Did you really think any of us would fall for you, babe? Such an innocent kitty. You fucking rejected a lot of us, girl. You fuck the pack, the wolves bite back!" he said, patting Hvitserk's shoulder.

But Hvitserk wasn't feeling proud.

He wasn't feeling like avenging his friends' hearts broken or their pride shattered by your rejection.

He was feeling a jerk, seeing into your eyes the tears of rage and deception you were fighting back into your channels, looking at him from the top of your pain and broken feelings.

"Thank you for showing me the truth, Arvid. In fact, you made me a favor," you answered dryly to Arvid's words, causing him to chuckle, mocking even on your posture in front of such a humiliating situation.

"Bullshit!" Arvid said. "We are the ones thanking you for the lacy panties, babe."

The "pack" laughed, and Hvitserk finally pushed Arvid back, away from himself, saturated of all that shit.

"Stop it, Arvid! That's enough!"

"It's never enough when it comes to Y/N, Hvitserk. She's a bitch! Come on!" Arvid spat earning a punch from Hvitserk's fist that silenced the whole bunch of howling dogs behind them.

"Take your damn money, I don't fucking care! It wasn't just a bet for me!" Hvitserk yelled, angrily, looking at you just to see you chuckling.

"As if it would change something now, Hvitserk."

Not "puppy" as he was getting used to hearing you calling him. He tried to come closer.

"Kitten, listen..."

That sweet name he gave you sounding so bitter to your ears now. You pushed him away, angrily, closing his throat with your words so full of regret.

"If you like bets and challenges, here is one for you, Ragnarsson! I dare you to grow up, stop acting like a child and be a man at least once in your fucking life! I dare you to stop looking at girls as if they were pieces of meat walking around for your delight! I dare all of you, wolf pack, to stop naming themselves as a bunch of horny animals and start understanding that's pretty much more behind a girl than just what's under her lingerie!"

There were tears in your eyes and despite it was pleasurable for some of those behind Hvitserk, it silenced the others and closed Hvitserk's throat even more.

"I dare you not to be like him, Hvitserk," you said, causing his heart to sink into his chest. "I double dare."

He knew exactly what you were talking about.

He swore you could trust him. He swore all men weren't like your ex.

He broke his word. He hurt you maybe even deeper than the first one to tore your heart apart.

The tears rolling down your face were breaking his heart and he lifted his hand to wipe them from your cheeks but you stepped away. You didn't want him to touch you.

He tried walking towards you, but you just ran away, leaving him with that awful sensation of hurting the best girl he ever had in his life.

For nothing...

"What's wrong with you, Hvitserk!?" Arvid got up, cleaning his face, punching Hvitserk's shoulder from behind. "It's just a fucking bitch, bro! We don't fucking punch our brothers for a pussy, man!"

It boiled Hvitserk's blood into his veins. Everything was clear in his mind now.

You rejected Arvid... Twice, he could remember.

And he remembered being clear to Arvid the bet was over tons of times before he was taken to the limit of posting that video to stop Arvid's mocking over him at the group.

Arvid mocked on him for days...

Just as he was now mocking on you like a jackdaw, laughing at what couldn't be funny, making fun of your feelings how he believed you did of his in his stupid selfish egocentric mind.

Arvid used him to fuck you and how Hvitserk could see it clearly.

Another punch hit Arvid's face. And another. And another.

Hvitserk let go all his anger before leaving Arvid at the ground, bleeding, bruised like his heart was inside his chest now.

"I'm not your fucking brother, you bastard. I'm not a damn wolf of your stupid pack. And I suggest you clean up the internet from my girl's video, or I swear, there will be more from where these came."

Arvid giggled, even having his face covered in blood.

"Seriously? Do you really think I care? Fuck you and your pussy fag feelings, Hvitserk! She fucked me. I'll god damn fuck her life!"

"Correction," Hvitserk said, kicking Arvid with all his strength this time. "She didn't fuck you, Arvid. You didn't come even close to have her and wanna know what? She was right. You're a fucking moron. You don't deserve her. I don't deserve her. None of us do."

The others were silent. Some already erased the video from their phones. Others were thinking about doing the same.

Hvitserk didn't care. He just gave his back to all those bastards, leaving them behind, trying to go after you.

He wasn't able to find you. Anywhere.

You weren't answering his calls.

You stopped looking at your phone when the messages started to pop out because of the video and how it simply spread all over the university.

Yet, he tried to talk to you, sending you messages, begging you to hear him, to give him a chance to explain.

In the next day, he went to your class building and sat at the door with a bouquet of flowers, waiting for you to arrive so he could try again and ask you for sorry.

But you didn't come. And your best friend couldn't handle seeing him like that: sitting at the door like a lost dog without a single tip if you would ever arrive.

"She won't come, Hvitserk," she said, causing him to lift his eyes, surprised. "She locked her course."

Hvitserk got up, looking at the girl with large greens.

"She asked me not to tell you, but I can't believe you're such a good liar like that. I can't believe you could fake what I saw in between the two of you. You like her for real and she'll hate me for this, but she'll be leaving the town in..." She looked at the clock on her wrist. "Two hours. She'll take a flight to her family's hometown and... Hvitserk wait!"

He left the flowers, he left her speaking alone, running at his bike the faster he could.

"PLATFORM D, THE FLIGHT IS 208!!!" was the last thing he heard her screaming before he turned the corner towards the parking.

He never drove so fast in his life, cutting the cars, trying desperately to reach the airport on time.

His thoughts were away, thinking about what he did to you, how stupid he was, how he would never be able to reach you if you caught that flight. He was so distracted, but yet, his eyes couldn't lose the sight of you leaving the cap at the entrance of the airport when he was about to arrive.

He did it! You didn't have taken that flight yet!

Hvitserk couldn't think about anything but call your attention and so, he pushed his motorcycle's horn as hard as he could, trying to get your eyes to look at him.

But the scandal that called your attention wasn't only the sound of the familiar horn you got used to hearing on your apartment's window. You looked up to see Hvitserk's motorcycle hit a car that was leaving the airport and, shocked, you watched as his body flew over the car, hitting the floor on the other side of the street, stopping the whole transit, sliding some meters forward on the asphalt.

"HVITSERK!"

Fuck the flight.

Fuck the damn bet, the whole humiliation...

Fuck everything!

He was laid on the street, not moving and you could only think about how desperate you were by seeing him like that.

You kneeled by his side, trying to remember all the things you heard in your classes about those situations. How the hell could a nurse be so secure about what to do in one of those moments??

Your hands were shaking like hell when you tried to take off his helmet, not moving his head. His eyes were open and he looked at you.

"Thank god... you're alive," you sobbed, immediately trying to stop him from his effort to reach your face. "Don't move! For the god's sake, don't move, we don't know how hurt you are, stay down and immobile, please..."

"Princess..." he mumbled, breaking your heart in a million pieces.

That name was the sweeter way he had called you while the two of you were making love...

That nickname wasn't a prank, a game, a joke for him. It was the way he found to show you his true feelings. To show you that you weren't just that stupid bet for him. It came when he realized he really had fallen for you.

You felt tears on your eyes once again.

"Forgive me..." he tried.

Everything was aching so hard. Hvitserk thought he would die in that place, with all those strange people around him. But at least, he was in your arms. The only thing he needed was to feel he didn't screw up everything...

"Please..."

You caressed his cheek with your thumb, softly, trying to avoid moving him and to repress the tears in your eyes. But it became impossible when the following sentence left his lips, a few seconds before the paramedics surrounded him, preventing you to stay close.

"I love you... For real."

His eyes never left yours while they were taking him into that ambulance. His heart was heavy into his chest.

Hvitserk fainted thinking he would die without being able to beg your forgiveness. Thinking he would be forever that bastard who destroyed your heart.

It took him a long time to realize the pain all over his body wasn't a divine punishment for his crimes or that constant beep bothering his ears wasn't demonic torture or anything like that.

He opened his eyes and the blurred vision allowed him to notice he was in a white room. His clothes were gone and he was dressed in one of those awful hospital gowns. And everything around was smelling alcohol and medicine.

But there was a soft touch caressing his forehead that stopped as soon as he opened his eyes.

"Please... don't stop..." he mumbled.

It was the only good thing he was feeling and it had stopped. And then, he heard sobs that caused him to force his eyes to focus.

Just to see you, sitting beside his bed. Your suitcase in a corner of the room abandoned like the ticket to your lost flight over it.

You stayed. Because of him.

But you were crying beside his bed and it wasn't only because he almost died in your hands. There was so much more...

Hvitserk tried to straighten himself at the bed, noticing his arm was connected to the serum tube. There weren't any broken bones he could see, but as soon as he moved his body, he understood why he was locked at that bed: his ribs were aching like hell.

Yet, he tried, reaching your hand. Touching it, causing you to turn your marked face towards him. You had cried for hours, afraid he would die, guilty, hurt, wounded.

"I'm so sorry..." he started, trying to look into your eyes.

"Why?" you asked, looking at him "Why did you come closer if you didn't want me, Hvitserk? Why make such a terrible thing like a bet? It was someone else's heart! Someone else's life! I trusted you! I... I loved you..." you cried.

And then, his hand reached your face.

"I know. I can feel it. I fell for you as well, Y/N and I'm so sorry things started because of this awful bet. I should never have done such a thing and I would do anything to have your forgiveness. Please, give us a chance, princess... Let me show you I'm not that bastard anymore. Let me show you how you changed me into a better person. How loving you made me someone better. I love you. I do. I swear...I know I swore before, but this time I'm not lying. Please, gimme a chance to show you I'm..."

Hvitserk's mess with words stopped when you laid your head in his shoulder, hiding it in his neck, sobbing while trying to embrace him without hurt his broken ribs even more.

"I thought you would die in my hands," you mumbled, sobbing even harder.

He had fucked up your life. But there you were worried about him. Hvitserk softly embraced you, caressing your hair, nestling his face near yours and finally wiping your tears with one of his thumbs against your cheek.

"I have a reason to come back, to stay. I'll always come back for you, Y/N. I'll always be here for you, princess."

You sighed, hiding more into his arms.

And mutely, Hvitserk promised himself he would let the idiot who had hurt you to die in that accident. He would come out of that hospital a different person. And he would be worthy of your love this time.

For you, it would worth the effort of being a better guy.

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[larriefails]

Hello! This is gonna be long so I apologize in advance. It’s also gonna sound a little like a Larrie receipt (typical “my friend’s mom’s sister”), but I hope you’ll see how legit it is. A lot of years ago, I found Larry after watching the Monitchka Larry Bible and became hooked. I stayed a Larrie until a few months before Freddie was born (when we saw Briana’s bump). I’m on the older side so I never really talked much with anyone in the fandom, it made me feel a little like the Steve -1

Buscemi meme “how do you do fellow kids”, and I didn’t like most of the older Larries, they had very predatory and creepy attitudes with younger fans. My blog stayed small, and it still is very small, so I was always able to cruise without making many waves, and I was happy with that. One day, I sent a message off anon to a big Larrie that was being harassed for disagreeing with the agreed upon opinion by other big Larries. I tried to comfort her because the attacks she was receiving were -2

Terrible and no one deserves that. I’m a teacher so I try to discourage group thinking and I’m more nurturing in nature. She was very appreciative and we continued talking in the following days. Tumblr chat wasn’t a thing yet, so we did it via fan mail, but it was really annoying so, soon, we exchanged numbers and started talking via WhatsApp. This whole backstory is to explain how I came to find out how Louis and Eleanor actually met, and how IT WAS ACTUALLY HARRY WHO INTRODUCED THEM. And to -3

Make matters worse, Larries know. Big Larries at least, they know exactly how and never shared it. My Big Larrie Friend, let’s call her BLF for short, sent me screenshots of her conversation with another Big Larrie. BLF is a sweetheart and not a Larrie anymore, so I’m not gonna give out who she is, but I will say who she was having the conversation with. It was, at that time, ittybird. Her url now is betterstllbemywindingwheel. BLF had her saved in her phone as “Becki” (I still have -4

The screenshots). Becki is also a teacher, she lives in the north of England, and she was telling BLF that she had a new apprentice teacher in her school. Becki told BLF the name and last name of the apprentice teacher, but I’m not gonna share it for obvious reasons. Becki said that she had immediately started a conversation about 1D with the apprentice teacher, and then she went into Larry. That’s when the apprentice teacher told Becki that she was actually friends with Alana Burton -5           

Eleanor’s best friend, and that she knew Larry wasn’t real because Alana had told her that she was the one that introduced Louis and Eleanor. Apprentice Teacher (let’s call her AT) said that Alana worked at W. Mandeville, the bakery Harry worked at for a few years. She and Harry met there, and when 1D was doing the X Factor tour in early 2011, Harry invited Alana to one of the Manchester shows. Alana took Eleanor with her, and after the show, they went backstage to meet Harry, who introduced -6

Them to the rest of the band, obviously, Louis included. Louis had a girlfriend at that time, but he added Eleanor to his private Facebook (the name was Inv Isibleman, it’s now deactivated) and they kept in contact. They started seeing each other when Louis broke up with Hannah. So Alana and Harry introduced Louis and Eleanor. Becki was livid and she told AT that she was lied to, that Alana had simply made it up. And she showed AT “Larry proof” to convince her that her friend had lied to her -7

Becki didn’t give much details after that, she just said that AT had told her she believed in Larry after her “proof”. She was laughing at “how is Alana gonna explain that one when Larry comes out” and stuff like that. My friend, BLF, had become worried. She thought AT had just told Becki she believed in her Larry proof because she wanted to get her off her back, and didn’t wanna insult her, since Becki is a teacher at the school she was just beginning to work at. So BLF tried to prove that -8

Becki had lied about the whole thing and it had never happened. She went to Becki’s Facebook and checked for her friends, that’s when she found AT. She then went to AT’s Facebook and checked for Alana, found that they’d been friends since like 2008. And AT had Facebook posts about being a teacher as well. So the whole thing was real. She told me about it because she was worried and seeking reassurance. She tried to argue that AT had lied to make herself sound more important about what Alana -9

Had told her, that there was no way Louis would keep in contact with a random girl he met at a concert, or that because Chloe Burcham (Alana’s friend that’s also friends with Harry) hadn’t mentioned Alana when she went to the X Factor tour it meant Alana didn’t go at all. I tried to soothe her and tell her that it was probably just how they’d met Eleanor for real, but that it didn’t mean it was a real relationship, that maybe they had just chosen her to be a beard because they had friends in -10

Common. Then BLF said something that haunted me until I stopped being a Larrie (not that long after), “if this is how they actually met, then why was it never used? Why has no one said that Alana worked with Harry at the bakery? Why not say that they met at the X Factor tour? It would definitely shut a lot of Larries up.” And the only explanation we could find was that Louis was still with Hannah at that point and he didn’t want to hurt her feelings or make her think that he’d cheated on her -11

But if Larry was real, that didn’t make any sense. Obviously Larries believe that Louis and Hannah either never dated and she was a beard he had for his friends and family before the X Factor, or that they broke up way before than July 2011 because Harry and Louis were definitely together at that point and Harry wouldn’t have settled for being “the other woman”, so Hannah wouldn’t be an issue. We were stumped by this and didn’t know how to make sense of it with Larry being real. Why would -12

Alana lie to a random friend of hers that’s not a One Direction fan or even knows anything about them about introducing Louis and Eleanor? What would even be the point of that? Becki never posted the details of this on her tumblr, but when it was announced that Louis was gonna be a dad and Larries started sharing “receipts” she used it. She said that “Eleanor’s friends believe she lied about how she and Louis met and Louis is gay.” The post is still up on her blog -13

It’s private now, so you can only view it on the app, and only if she doesn’t have you blocked www,tumblr,com/dashboard/blog/betterstllbemywindingwheel/124109796807 but here it is from another blog that reblogged it daysundercover,tumblr,com/post/124110111417/ok-fuck-it -14

————

Oh wow. This is a lot. I don’t really know what to say… thank you for sharing? X

[prorevenge]

You don’t want to send me the money even after you received and used the stuff i sent you?!

Soo, this might be a long story. Hold tight!

It all started when i got a gift card for my birthday. It was filled in with 25€ but man I needed these 25€ to live from as I’m a broke college student. So i went to Marktplaats (a some kind of a Dutch version of Craigslist) and I posted just enough info to show the card and asked for a 21€ for it. You can do (almost) everything with it, but not shop from these small cheap supermarkets where i get my food from. So this guy came, let’s call him Jack, and sure enough he offered 21€ but wanted to do the deal via WhatsApp as he “doesn’t understand how MP works exactly”.

I thought sure, it must be an old lady or something. It was a bit suspicious to be honest as the account was only a month old which can be seen as suspicious according to MP culture. But I thought well nothing bad can happen and asked him to transfer the money first and send a screenshot of the transaction and I’ll directly send him the rest of the info of the card. So Jack sent the screenshot containing the first letter of his name so “J” with some last name, his bank account number was there and i had his phone number because we were Whatsapping. So everything seemed fine. He then said it might take a day or two to arrive because we have different banks and i said sure, why not. I sent him the card info and we thanked each other and everything seemed fine. Later that night, I checked the balance of the gift card using the official website of the gift card and it was empty already. I thought he must wanted some shirt or so and he could save 4€ with it so why not. A few days later, didn’t get anything on my bank account. I sent him a message saying that this is very unusual and it never takes this much time but he reassured me by saying that the money was really taken from his bank account and some bullshit. After a week has gone, nothing was on my bank account so i sent his screenshot to a friend of mine who’s a professional in Photoshop and photos editing and such stuff and asked him if the screenshot seems photoshopped because I wasn’t sure. He said no everything seems to be fine. I sent Jack a message via WhatsApp, he didn’t respond. Vis Maarktplaats, same story. Smsing and calling didn’t yield a thing either.

Before i was planning to find that asshole, i was really curious how he faked that screenshot. So after some googling, I found that it’s possible that if you call your bank and tell them a valid excuse, they will return your money and especially if the other side didn’t receive it yet. So i sent my brother a few euros to try it and called my bank to cancel the transaction. The employee at the bank was surprised when i told her that i sent it per mistake to this person and started asking stuff like “how could you fill in a bank account number and a name per mistake??” I responded with it was on the list of the people that I often sent money to and i per mistake choose him instead of the person right above him (there’s some kind of contacts list of bank accounts and names so that you don’t have to fill the info in each time). She found that reasonable and sent me money back directly and sure enough my brother didn’t hear a thing or get a notification or anything. Just nothing. Then it made sense how he proved it but I didn’t get anything. So after i knew how everything worked, I wanted to chase that asshole down.

At this point, i knew i was dealing with a crook. I had his telephone number, where he lived ( from MP), his bank account number, his first letter and his last name.

I searched using his telephone number via all the websites and search engines you could ever think about, I couldn’t find anything. It was like he disappeared. I searched FB (and other sites) using his last name but man, his last name was one of the commonest in the Netherlands. Thousands of results. I filtered a lot to decrease the search results as much as possible until i was left with a few results starting with a J and ending with his last name. Unfortunately, none of them seemed like the one I’m searching for (and none of them were, I discovered later). I didn’t know what exactly to do so I reported to the police and to the MP website. The police said that they will need sometime to decide whether they look into the case and such but were negative if they could help me because “I should have done it via MP”. Which I agree with but i was still furious. MP said they don’t have enough evidence to block his account or anything. I knew i needed to handle it myself. So i sent everyone that has that he/she are living or from the village where he came from, a FB message( these were 493 people). I explained everything and provided screenshots of what happened and asked if they could help me find that asshole or search in their mobiles for his number or in family groups on WhatsApp so i can get his first name to be able to do my next step. Only 5 have read and responded to my message and none of them had a clue. So I joined all the local groups of his village and posted the story again. Sure enough, a nice lady provided me with his first name, where he currently live and a lot more info than what i hoped for. It turns out that he has multiple telephone numbers and that was not his main so it was logical I couldn’t find anything. She sent me his telephone number so I threatened him with the fact that I will report him to the police, that now I know his name and more info about him, I’ll post that in any online local community...etc. Odd enough, he didn’t seem to give a single fuck and asked me to “fuck my self” and said that he wouldn’t return the money. So I actually didn’t mail his friends and network about it because I thought I’m doing too much which won’t work because he’s probably a trashy person that listens to no one.

My final option was to go via his bank, i emailed them and they were so nice that they wanted to look it up for me and everything but said couldn’t tell me much because of privacy and stuff. This lady from the bank was so sympathetic that she gave me the email of the security department of the bank and asked me to send everything i had in a mail explaining what happened. Did that but didn’t get a response, even after a week so I thought I could email her one last time to ask whether I should be waiting for a response or not. She said don’t wait because the security department is not a department that communicates with customers and asked me to have patience. After a month had passed from the beginning of the accident, i began losing hope that I’ll chase down that crook ( i had his home address but bringing him a visit wasn’t an option for me). A few days later, he called. I didn’t respond but he left like 10 messages that he would love to find a solution and everything so i was really shocked and asked why now out of a sudden. He said the his bank blocked and freezed all his four bank accounts after they’ve discovered that he has been doing that shit for a while already. He even offered me 200€ to just email his bank that everything was solved and that they should unblock his shit. I said no I don’t want your filthy money, i just want my 21 euros and I’ll then reconsider emailing the bank. He sure enough sent them directly from a friend bank account and I’ve finally received my money. Now it’s revenge time!

I told him he can fuck him self and that he can kiss my a$$, I’m doing nothing for him and I’ll ignore him even longer that he was doing to me. He sent me like a thousand time he’s sorry and he won’t do it again and he really would send me any amount of money just to email his bank. 2 weeks later, he said that he can’t access his money and bills are stacking up. I just simply blocked his number after i sent him a middle finger emoji. He sent more apologies, called and everything from other numbers but i left him there hanging. It has been 3 weeks now and he’s still begging me and sending sorries and shit. I’m not planning to help him anytime soon and i believe that he should legally solve his shit with his bank and I wouldn’t care a shit for such people. So, do you still want to steal my money, you motherfucker?!

(source) (story by RefugeeDutch_Syrian)

[silentghosttimez]

Honestly was my irl ever actually even my friend in the first place?

We were in the same friend group for years but I didn't know about her until 4th grade when we argued over who stayed would stay with who before the day we got sent off to 4H camp

We officially became friends in 7th grade but according to her years later this was only because she wanted to use me for tests and assignments.

Now getting to the shitty stuff she did, she:

Always lies to me, even now, even though I've stated I knew more about her via what I heard through her brothers and "friends" behind her back when I was getting to class or was in class

I don't think that there was ever a time where she actually asked about what's going on in my life or the things I like and enjoy

She never defended me from being bullied and harassed, in fact she once even snickered before holding it in when the druggies in the corner of the room threw things at me and called me names, again when the guy next to her said some unsavory shit

She constantly used me as a free therapist, relationship advice giver and just emotional punching bay in general

She brags about her wealth, power, and connections to me all the time to me, someone living in a household living paycheck to paycheck

I have had to talk her out of suicide more than I can count, many of those times were not successful talkouts ending with her recovering in the hospital

She on multiple occasions has groped guys in their genital areas and gone to touch me directly after when I told her not to

I know she talks behind my back, unfortunately I wouldn't know about what aside from the time I came out to her and she immediately went to tell a group of people, one of which came to me and asked me if I was gay in which I had to respond no or else everyone would remember and make my everyday life living hell like they did years back which nearly pushed me to self deletion due to the endless harassment and people actively running away and avoiding me. I made eye contact with her and her look said that she didn't expect someone to come up and ask me about it.

I can only communicate with her via Snapchat. I've tried to get her to just please...use the regular messaging app, Discord, whatsapp....anything except snapchat. I know she uses all of those when it comes to other people but she keeps me exclusively on Snap, she even had my phone number, I've see screenshots she sometimes sends that prove her messaging apps outside Snap do work. Does she not see put friendship as something o serious or of value?

I know so much about her, her living situation, family stuff, issues, and trauma, everything, but she knows near nothing about me unless I bring up something

She just responds with "oof" or "same lol" when I'm genuinely struggling to live with myself and e everything is low mentally and emotionally.

My mood depletes like a Sims character through nearly every interaction with her

Onto the spicier stuff....

She had sent me unsolicited nudes not 95% of the time without warning or warning seconds before sending without care if I was around family, in public or what. Plus the fact that this makes me deeply uncomfortable but my brain sometimes tells me to play along despite zero interest, my brain is sometimes just interested in seeing how much I can work her up without doing more than saying just words, using charisma and flirtation I usually keep locked away to mess around.

Apparently she really wants to do me...or me to do her? But like...the thought of that with her makes me sick....like physically so...but I can't just say it..she told me she felt some sorta way about me for years and hinted at it through touches and actions that apparently caught on to everyone but me? I knew people thought we were dating but I had no clue she apparently didn't mind being paired with me and that she apparently really likes when I flex my muscles...? Still not sues what to make of all that aside from I may be ace or severely depressed, or simply emotionally constipated to the point of not even being able to identify my own emotions majority of the time or display them properly.

She also tends to just ghost me for weeks too so....

[siliconchat921]

Is Tinder A Good Dating Site

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Is Tinder A Good Dating Site For Women

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[thatsridicarus]

tiaranab_:

"Universitas Tertua dan Pertama sejak 800an adalah Al Qarawiyyin, Morocco🥹❣️ terlebih yang memilikinya adalah Perempuan. Jadi lihatlah betapa dianggungkannya wanita pada zamannya bisa menjadi setara dalam hal pendidikan. Yuk jangan sampe moondorrr❤️‍🔥"

[dinitian]

Podcast, Hospital Playlist, Whatsapp Group

Hej, ich habe euch lange nicht gesehen. Ich vermisse Tumblr. Like I miss my friend so much. Actually, I just send a random message in my wa group where all my best friend are. Then like always.. the convo got in hundreds once we talk about something. Mostly it is not that necessary, but once in a while we also talk that deep.

Well, the last thing I mentioned here was I once must had quarantined in Banyuwangi, about 2 months ago. Not because I was infected the virus, naudzubillah, nor my Rapid Test or PCR was reactive.. but it was just because I come from the town that has more than a hundred thousand covid-ers. Oh Gott, this is a serious thing I must admit.

Then I got the idea of making my own podcast when I was quarantined. And I made it. Then it went pretty well at first.. now it was just.. :D I think you know.. the rest is a history.

Hench, I manage to getting up again with the podcast I made. And now I am re-watch the serial drama named Hospital Playlist. The only reason why I love this series is the friendship. The loyal kind of stuff each of the actors have for each other in the story mesmerized me till drop. It got me back years when I was in High School.

I have exactly 4 boy friends in my last high school year. We got to attend the additional private class to make sure our point at national final exam will not that bad. We do that regularly and yeah of course I was bullied. Both in a good and bad ways. When I am thinking about that moment in this time, it got me nothing but laugh. I thank God to give me such many beautiful memories with them, then instantly I go to silence myself to pray for their health and happiness. 

Some of them are still frequently in touch with me, yeah you got it. We are in the same whatsapp group that I have mentioned before. We have another member that bright up my day in any ways when I felt some kind of grey feeling. I really grateful for this wealth that money can’t buy. I treasure them a lot. I always pray for them after my parents and my family. 

The values I have, the person I have become today is the result of our growing process. I also have a friend that almost 2 years of not seeing on face. But we always managed to call each other anytime we had a chance. We sent each other things (red: hampers) last Idul Fitri. And not to mentioned if we had plenty unnecessary words we shared in whatsapp group.

Why do I write this all up? Yeah you are right. I miss them. I miss to have a real talk on face with them. Rek, I miss you a lot. I don’t know how long I can hold this feeling until I can see you in person. Stay safe, stay strong.. we have to, so we can see each other’s beautiful face in a good condition. See you when I see you rek :)