#the downward spiral was engaged EARLY

[anaalnathrakhs]

wait, 8 years old kid, you can be alone all day but we'll drive all the mandatory stuff ourselves! wait, 12 years old kid, you're too independant! wait, 14 years old kid, come sit with us instead! wait, 17 years old kid, i'll take the car and pick you up 800 meters away from home! wait, 18 years old kid, don't you know how difficult and hard and painful it was for us when you didn't do activities you don't like with us, back then!

wait, 18 years old kid, i don't understand why you're not more independant if you want it so badly, after all it's normal at your age!

[cosmichorrorlesbians]

new Silt Verses ep was so incredibly good and there's so much to talk about but I keep coming back to Sibling Rane.

I think Jon and Muna do a great job of making even minor characters feel distinctive and resonant with the main cast, and the disciples of the various faiths are one of the places this shows most strongly. The disciples of the Trawlerman are the people Faulkner has made himself responsible for and as early as Chapter 22 a thread develops that many of them are naïve, and young, and almost comedically earnest.

And yet, at the same time, these 'children' are part of-- at the forefront of, even-- Faulkner's acquistion of power within the Parish. In the same episode, Thurrocks accurately articulates both the depth of the faith they have in him and the result to which it is already leading.

So. Young members of the faith as (at least superficially) earnestly artless and yet having a dangerously fervent power of belief. Rane, when we meet them in Chapter 30, seems like another genuine and ardent neophyte.

They're eager and conscientious and I half expected them (like Jasp) to last less than two episodes. But they become a quiet background voice to Faulkner's downward spiral. They take on administrative tasks, attending to Roemont when he visits the Gulch, and-- increasingly-- becoming an emotional and social anchor for Faulkner as he slides into depression.

Rane doesn't seem to be a born diplomat. Earnest. Naïve. Clumsy. But I think that ambiguity the stage directions draw out is interesting. Is Rane really so ingenuous? Are they 'pretend[ing]'? They've taken on so much responsibility for the faith, smoothing over awkwardnesses, arranging things in the background, organising transport and supplies while Faulkner broods. Is it earnest? Pragmatic? Both?

I think it's very easy to read Rane as having unreciprocated romantic feelings towards Faulkner. I certainly do. Their devotion shades into excess, and in the moments where the pair seem to engage almost as equals, like the car ride in Chapter 38, there's this real sense of simultaneous shared joy and an underlying desire on Rane's part to 'get Faulkner's attention' and prove themself worthy of it. To impress him.

This Chapter sees Faulkner experience a dark night of the soul. He's already depressed to the point of suicidal ideation, detached from his surroundings and utterly anhedonic. He's clearly not equipped to acknowledge or accept love from others, romantic or platonic. This episode is about caring for someone who is fundamentally disconnected from you, who will never see things the way you do but must be loved and kept safe nonetheless. It's also where Rane saves Faulkner's life.

Rane, acting as caretaker, quietly reverses the established power dynamic of their relationship. Faulkner's attempted drowning directly parallels his childhood experience of conversion as recounted in Series 1. He becomes the lost, frightened child in their dynamic.

This speech obviously underlines Faulkner's insecurities, his youth, and the validity of his prophetic status as "chosen". We know he's engineered and manipulated his own glorification.

But it also draws attention to how Rane acts as a parallel to Faulkner. Faulkner, when we first meet him, seems precisely this enthusiastic if inept younger disciple. 'Was I like that?' he asks himself about Thurrocks. Maybe he was once. Because we see the same kind of darkness surface in Rane. As Faulkner clearly no longer cares if he lives or dies, they take on more and more of the unspoken burden of leadership.

They 'stage-manage'. They become the structural surety at the heart of the myth of Faulkner, putting in his hard work, handing him his kelp wreath, shoring up his crumbling facade. They recognise the gap between what he is and what his people want him to be, what they need him to be.

'It will be different when it's written'. Did Faulkner trip, or was he shoved? Does it even matter? We don't truly know whether Rane has taken the wheel as the endgoal of some Machiavellian scheme, or as a decision of pure pragmatism motivated by their faithful zeal, or out of desperate, genuine, self-deluding care for Faulkner, but is it important?

Faulkner isn’t just made up of Faulkner any more. Rane is being quietly assimilated into his legend. 'When it's written', I doubt they'll be much more than a footnote in his story. But I would also dispute whether High Prophet Faulkner isn't substantially a creation of unnoticed, unappreciated Sibling Rane.

[sorceresssundries]

A Scandal In Sorcery

Chapter 1

Pairing: Gale x Fem Tav

Summary: A Regency era/Baldur’s Gate crossover. Set in an Alternate Universe, containing familiar faces and key events in new light.

It is, predominantly, a love-story which will contain explicit content as the slow-burning bond between Gale and Tav deepens.

(This is also published on AO3)

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: This story is set in an Alternate Universe. Though there may be echoes of sound and flickers of light from a well-loved place, please bear in mind this is a new path in a familiar forest.  Take comfort in the familiarity and care into the unknown.  Some things are destined to come together in every universe, just as others are doomed to fall apart.

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single suitor in possession of high standing and good fortune, must be in want of marriage.

It was the peak of summer, and Tav found herself yet again stifled by the dull formalities and repetitive dances of a ball in the Upper City. How she hated being dragged along to these pointless parades, where she always ended up feeling more like a peacock than a wizard. She had been corseted and primped to within an inch of her life; all to be displayed at an event which to her was a total circus. She longed to escape to the sanctuary of her study, where parchment and quill awaited, and where her fingers could be adorned not with jewels, but with the comforting stains of ink.

By the number of couplings announced in the weeks following these illustrious events, one could argue that the whole affair was more of an auction than a party. Despite the early hour, the incessant chatter was already filled with discussions of betrothals and alliances. Frantic parents and guardians would inevitably spend their entire time flitting from suitor to suitor, engaging in pointless small talk in an attempt to veil their matrimonial intentions—although most of the time, their efforts were in vain. Her father, unfortunately, was one of those frantic parents. She could see him now, talking to one of the many Lord and Ladies. No, not talking, conspiring . She understood his frustration, since her mother’s passing their place amongst the elite had been teetering on a cliff edge - and one delicate misstep could send them spiralling downwards and lost to the pull of untiring and pitiless tides. It was exhausting.

Tav’s mother, Estrea Olyn, had been a wonder of a woman. A gifted sorcerer, Slayer of Bhaalspawn, and hero of the gate. She had risked the shunning of the society she occupied when she eventually settled and married a humble merchant. Luckily, her charm, beauty, and famous heroics meant she was destined to be the pearl in the oyster of every social event the Upper-City could shuck. But the privileges welcome to Estrea did not pass over to her grieving family in the wake of her death.

So here Tav was, years later, at another ball, in another set of restrictive robes, being paraded around another room full of suitors in an attempt to reclaim some of the prominence which had been stripped from her family. It was pointless, really. She had made it perfectly clear to her father she had no intention of marrying. She was set on furthering her studies at The Blackstaff Academy and reigniting their good name by becoming a wizard of unparalleled renown. She knew she had it in her, she just needed the chance to prove herself. But, until her position there was accepted, and her future secured - she was destined to go along with the charade. It kept her poor father’s mind occupied and saved him from being swallowed up by the grief which chewed at him from morning to each sleepless, heart-wrecked evening. It had been many years since the death of her mother, yet grief’s grip suffocated just as relentlessly as the day she had left him. 

The magnificent room was scattered with groups of people arranged in predictable constellations. And she, as always, was a lone star. She sighed and adjusted the dark tendrils of hair which kept slipping from the crown of curls fixed atop her head, and settled into the dimmed corner she had found to mentally prepare for more inane chatter from disinterested suitors.

Relief eventually found her in the form of Wyll Ravenguard. Her friend and fellow auction item who had been catalogued and tagged alongside her for the season, although she was well aware the value attributed to him was far higher than her own. He was devilishly handsome, perfectly mannered and most importantly, the son of the Grand Duke. There wasn’t a man or woman in the Upper-City who wasn’t completely enraptured in his presence. 

“You know, no-one will ever ask you to dance if you skulk away in dark corners.” He said as he approached her hideaway. He looked beautiful as ever, in robes of emerald which complimented the richness of his dark skin. His hair was freshly braided, and he smelled comfortingly of cedar and cinnamon. As always, his eyes sparkled when he spoke. 

“What?!” She replied clutching at her necklace “I thought I was presenting myself as the enigmatic and elusive damsel in desperate need of a marriage proposal? I must try harder, Saer, but I am eternally grateful for your ongoing education.” She bowed low, and he gestured to her secretly in a most ungentlemanlike way.

“You are a nightmare in a too-tight corset” His voice was a low chuckle.

“And you are a delight who will never see it undone.” She teased.

Wyll had been her friend since childhood. He had been kind to her when others had not, a generous skill he had only refined as they grew older. Despite their closeness, and many a rumour, Tav and Wyll had never entertained the notion of matrimony. Her father's clumsy attempts to suggest them as a suitable match to Wyll's father were met with resolute indifference from Ulder Ravenguard. His aspirations for his son transcended that of a marriage to the wild, ostracised girl of a lowly merchant. This came as a grateful relief to both Tav and Wyll. 

There had been confusing, romantic feelings at one time - but only during the blur of adolescence, where love could spark, flourish, and burn out within the space of a few heady weeks. Some people would call it a crush, but to Tav her feelings for Wyll had been the first bud of spring; hesitant, and ultimately too immature to flourish into a full-summer bloom. 

Still, inevitably, there had been awkward, hormone-driven exploration between the two of them. The unavoidable result of two teenagers spending too much time together, sunbathing half-naked on secret rooftops and stealing away dusty bottles of Arabellan Dry to be passed between wine-stained lips in intimate hideaways. He had been her first kiss. Her first fumble. The first person she had dared open that little, forbidden box of sexual discovery to, and he had always treasured it fiercely. He was her friend, and she loved him dearly.

“I’ve heard Jacques Huntington is itching for a dance with the young Lord Ravenguard.” She nudged his shoulder with hers and nodded her head towards a tall, thin, blonde gentleman who kept throwing nervous looks in their direction.

“How have you heard that? You’ve barely spoken to anyone.” Wyll scoffs. 

She shrugged nonchalantly, “It’s easy to eavesdrop on conversation when people pay no attention to you. I may as well be sipping on a potion of invisibility, it is a most enviable position to be in. I highly recommend it”

“Well, I'm not dancing with him again after last time. His breath was foul. I’ve had to bat away a house-call from him three times already this season.” 

Tav’s eyes scanned the room once more, and settled on a young woman whose empire-waisted dress could barely contain her breasts. “Marianna, then. I swear she must bathe for hours in that fragrance she wears, the scent of her could rouse a bugbear from its slumber. You would have no fear of smelling her breath over it.” 

“Absolutely not. She presses herself far too close, I feel as though she’s trying to mount me each time we dance.” Tav laughed loudly, earning herself a glare from a group of grim-faced guests not too far away. Gods, everyone was so stiff. 

“Well, your pickiness will have to end eventually. The two of us are becoming the withered grapes on an otherwise flourishing vine. Soon no-one will want a taste.” She was secretly glad of this bleak reminder her father would often throw at her, maybe soon she would be left alone entirely. 

It was then that the entire ballroom seemed to switch from incessant chattering to a soft hum. For a brief second, Tav thought someone must have cast ‘Silence’ over a large part of the congregation, before her eyes caught up with the focus of their attention. 

Two men had just entered the room. One was probably the palest man she had ever seen. Undeniably a high-elf, with perfectly coiffed and curled white hair. He moved with such delicate grace that it would have been no surprise to learn he was spun from silk itself. His clothing was the most eminent of everyone there, deep red with gold threading so intricate he practically shimmered as he moved through the crowd of people. His mouth was carved into an unwavering smile, which alone would be pleasant, but combined with the glint in his piercing blue eyes, gave him an unsettling, roguish quality which set Tav’s hairs on end. 

The man who followed behind him was an entirely different story. Clad in robes of silver and amethyst purple, he exuded the quiet confidence of someone settled in their own skin. He was that infuriating, effortless kind of beautiful that made heads turn and hearts flutter with no struggle at all. Where the pale elf looked as though he had spent hours preening himself in front of a mirror, this man looked as though he had thrown his hair into a half-bun, placed upon himself the first set of robes he could find, and still turned up looking tempting as sin itself. His skin was bronzed, eyes dark, hair dappled brown and silver, and the expression on his face said he wanted to be here almost as little as she did. He was a bright tonic amongst the evening’s bitter artifice.

“A handsome couple” Her eyes followed them as they made their introductions. Well, as the pale elf made their introductions. The man in purple seemed to hang back during each interaction, letting his companion do the talking - and the flirting - by the way he would sway as he spoke, leaning towards each target in an overfamiliar fashion. 

Wyll snorted at her observation. “They are no couple, dear Tav.” He took a sip of his wine as he appraised them himself. “You’ve heard of one of them, surely?” Her eyes flicked between the two men, trying to discern if she recognised them from one of the many, many books cluttering her study. “That, my magical friend, is the illustrious Gale of Waterdeep. The Chosen of Mystra herself.” 

Of course. As he said it, the twinkle of the silver eight-pointed star earring nestled in the darker man’s hair caught her eye. Mystra’s symbol. She had heard of him. He was a  Waterdhavian child prodigy, and stories of his prowess had featured occasionally in her studies. 

Tav herself was no stranger to the whispers of prodigy. From a tender age, she had possessed the rare gift of being able to channel the Weave at her whim. As a child, the fabric of magic had been her playground, her evenings spent in solitary exploration as she wove illusions and breathed enchantments into the toys that nestled under her bed. Magic fizzled in her blood. She was born with the same sorcerous gift as her mother, and she had buried herself in painstaking study to ensure its total understanding and control. She would be its master, and would not die to it the same way her mother had.

Tav had no love for Mystra. The death of her mother had led to the shunning of the Goddess completely. She placed blame upon the Mother of Magic for not protecting Estrea from her own divine gift. It had seemed desperately unfair, cruel, and most of all confusing. The combination of Tav’s anger and studious intent had left her ostracised by most of her peers, and so she had spent her time alone with her spellbooks in the lonely shadow of her dead, heroic mother. Still, Tav refused to be defined by the whims of fate. Magic would be her legacy, earned through sweat and toil rather than inherited by birthright alone. She would carve her name into the annals of history, and she would do it without the pomp and privilege of being some arrogant, naive chosen. She may have the spirit of a sorcerer, but she was determined to be the greatest wizard of the age.

She regarded Gale of Waterdeep intensely, and for a split second he straightened as though a cold wind had slipped across his skin. He turned, and held her heated gaze across the room. His eyes were a soft, comforting brown, but they were not enough to melt her from the icy pillar she had become. He was Mystra’s mouthpiece, and she would not hear any of him. 

She snapped her eyes away from him and turned back to Wyll, who was appraising her with soft amusement. 

“Now, now. As much as a fight would liven the party up a bit. Let’s keep your magic  contained, shall we?” He gave her hand a comforting squeeze and felt her skin jolt as her power tried to escape. With practiced focus, she contained herself. A burst of emotional magic, although entertaining, would probably cause her poor father a heart-attack.

“What is Mysta’s chosen doing among this tedium?” She enquired of Wyll, whom she knew was always privy to the best gossip the city had to offer. One of the benefits of being likeable, she supposed. 

“Apparently she has granted him temporary leave to return to the material plane.” Tav rolled her eyes. It sounded as though he was some pet she had released into the garden to relieve itself. Wyll leaned in a little closer  “I hear, he is also her lover.”

This was not a total surprise to Tav, it seemed to be a habit of Mystra’s. And, she thought to herself and she risked another glance at the handsome Wizard, she supposed the Goddess had good taste. 

The music in the room suddenly lulled into silence. “Oh, here we go. Time for the speech from our illustrious and enigmatic host himself.” Wyll’s tone was laced with disdain. As much as he flourished at these parties, it was no secret that he held no respect for the man who tended to host the majority of them. 

Enver Gortash ascended the grand staircase and settled himself at the balcony overlooking the festivities below. His gaze swept over the assembled crowd, a subtle smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he prepared to address them.

Standing just behind him was his ever-present bodyguard, a flame-red Tiefling woman whose imposing stature and muscular frame were poorly hidden behind her tailored suit. Her golden eyes were sharp and watchful. She was his sentinel, and Tav noticed Wyll couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off her. 

Lord Gortash was a figure of both respect and trepidation, his influence extending far beyond the confines of his sprawling estate in the Upper-City. His reputation preceded him, a shadowy figure who was powerful and mysterious in equal measure. He was respected by many, and unnerved by most. No one who received an invitation to one of his glittering events ever dared to turn it down. 

“Welcome! Dear friends, noble patriots of Baldur’s Gate.” His voice was low and almost hypnotic. “What a delight it is for you to once again grace the home of a humble, and grateful, servant of this city.” Tav noted how his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I am entranced by your company as always, and I am looking forward to spending this evening… In fruitful conversation.” At this, he flashed his eyes directly at Tav and her whole world stopped. His eyes were so dark they were almost black, and she wasn’t sure why but her blood suddenly turned icy. It only lasted one, practically imperceptible moment and then he dragged his gaze away from her to continue his speech on the importance of camaraderie and the ongoing development of their great city. 

He finished to a round of applause, and Tav had decided she had had enough of all of them. She wanted to go home. 

“I’m going to find my father, Wyll.” She looked round the room to see which unlucky person her father had trapped in conversation now, but she couldn’t see him anywhere. Wyll remained silent next to her.

“Wyll?” 

“Hmm?” His focus returned, and Tav had a fair idea of where it had floated off to.

“I’m going to retire for the evening” She gave his hand another squeeze “I apologise deeply for leaving you alone, but perhaps there is other company you could find sanctuary in?” Her eyes flashed with mischief. “I hear Lord Gortash’s bodyguard is quite entertaining.” 

Before he could retort, she turned and left, her eyes once again frantically searching for her father. This led her to bump directly into Gale of Waterdeep, who had been attempting to gravitate towards her for quite some time.

“Ah, my apologies my lady.” He bowed his head as he took a step back from her. “I’m usually better at this.” 

“At displaying manners?” She remarked. 

“At introductions.” He tried not to smirk to himself at her annoyance. The potent aura of weave he had sensed around her from all the way over the room, seemed to intensify at her irritation. Fascinating, he thought. “I am Gale of Waterdeep… and you are Ostavia Olyn.” He said with infuriating confidence. 

She did not fall for the flattery of him obviously having asked about her. “Usually one is granted the privilege of being able to offer their own introduction” She said. “Has your time away from mortal company caused you to abandon all decorum?” He did not answer her question as he sensed, quite correctly, that she was not done.

“I’ve never met a Chosen before. Should I refer to you as Saer?” Her tone was now slightly mocking. He was enjoying her immensely. “What title would Mystra prefer?” 

 “Mr.Dekarios will do just fine.” He took in the flame of her eyes, and the dark hair which had started to spiral loose down her neck, and suddenly he found the evening much more enjoyable. “Please would you do me the honour of partnering me for a dance?”. He offered an elegant hand to her. 

And for some reason she couldn’t quite understand, she took it. 

[eros-thanatos89]

It's 4am and I can't sleep, so now is as good a time as any to ramble about media, right?

I've been thinking about The Wire a lot recently. Probably in large part because @geitonas has recently been creating some truly wonderful fanart for it.

I've touched on this a little bit here:

https://www.tumblr.com/eros-thanatos89/754142518674882560/i-just-rewatched-breaking-bad-s1e6-crazy-handful?source=share

But for some reason, I was thinking about how when Breaking Bad first aired, there was so much discourse around comparing and contrasting it to The Wire. And for whatever reason, the big controversy seemed to be around "which show is better?"

But I think that's such a flawed way of thinking about it! They're both fantastic shows that tackle similar issues: drugs, the war on drugs, the effects that drugs and the trade have on people and communities, crime, greed, flawed institutions, etc...But they both have different focal points and ways of approaching those ideas.

Breaking Bad is of course, primarily a character driven show about Walter White and his downward spiral as his ego and greed draw him deeper and deeper into the violence and brutality of the drug trade and criminal life. And how his choices affect everyone around him. The show touches on some of the same things as The Wire, like what leads people to engage in crime, how drugs and the drug trade harm people and communities, and how the war on drugs was harmful to society. But the show is primarily focused on how the characters change over time due as they each "break bad" in their own ways. It is interesting that it's mainly focused on primarily white, middle class characters who choose to turn their backs on their "normal, respectable" lives and delve into the criminal world. So there is some explicit and implicit exploration of white privilege and the way law enforcement responds to some criminals and communities vs others.

The Wire, on the other hand, is primarily focused on the city of Baltimore itself and the many complex issues that lead to "urban blight" and issues like gangs and drug trade in the inner city. The first season is more or less a standard police procedural, albeit with much higher quality writing. But each successive season peels back another layer of the city (the docks and international involvement in crime, the underfunded and over-stressed school system, local politics and corruption, local media and media corruption, the gangs themselves and the issues caused by urban ghettos). I haven't rewatched The Wire in its entirety in a while (guess what I'm about to go do...) but it really is a masterful big-picture look at the war on drugs and inner city crime. I was in college studying sociology when Breaking Bad was wrapping up and all the drama and discourse was going on and I started watching The Wire out of curiosity to see what all the fuss was about; and I was so struck by what a sociological show it is. I think it's still the only show I've seen that really examines such a layered macro-level look at policies and institutions and urban life.

I don't know why at the time, everyone was so obsessed with pitting these two shows against each other! I like to view them as kind of in conversation with each other. The Wire is slightly older (premiered 2002, while BB premiered 2008) but they both offer a glimpse into the early 2000s and attitudes around crime and policing and addiction at that time. They're both prestige television at its best: incredible writing, acting, production...and they tackle so many similar themes and issues in very different ways, which makes them compelling to think about side by side.

I'm probably rambling and having a hard time articulating this...

But if you love Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul, and you haven't seen The Wire, chances are you'd love it!

If you enjoy both, or you want to chat about both/either, come talk to me. I love blabbering on about this stuff. Clearly.

[ladyluscinia]

Ok so I was talking to @brigdh in this post about how Lily being a secret affair Zweig baby doesn't really compel me due to reasons BUT I do think rolling around the timeline more has given me an even better idea of how all the pieces can fit together so. Thoughts.

The Facts: In 2011 Atlanta (mid-late July) Tashi and Art are engaged with an unconfirmed length of time until the wedding (but the US Open Series is 7 weeks so certainly late-September is the earliest calendar availability), Art is on a winning streak toward the US Open that he will fail at some point after this, and Tashi and Patrick hook up (not realizing Art sees them together for a moment before they vanish). Lily is an unconfirmed age but can't have been conceived more than a few months out from this point, since if Tashi got pregnant in Atlanta that would put Lily a few months past 7 at New Rochelle.

Now, the timing here is a bit odd for several reasons. Tashi strikes me as pretty neutral on motherhood in her 20s/early 30s era. Like if she really didn't want a kid she wouldn't have one. She's not a bad mom. But at the same time she does have her mom in their entourage to do most of the childcare and is actively fuming about her husband wanting to retire to spend time with his family, so, like, I think you can reason motherhood fulfillment wasn't an urgent need for her (especially since waiting until Art's sports career 30s retirement would have been fairly normal behavior? I could easily see her actively wanting a kid when it becomes less a "not now" and more "not ever" decision, too). Art clearly wanted a kid, and that's exactly the kind of thing that couples vaguely discuss before engagement to make sure they are compatible.

It's just that, well, trying for a kid during your engagement is odd. Accident baby is a possibility, but Tashi has lots of money, access to birth control, and a highly regimented health and nutrition team living in her family's pocket and probably designing their life health plan + daily medication and supplement intake like a normal person could never dream of. It can always happen but like. The odds. So I don't see her getting pregnant in Atlanta in the first place (and as previously mentioned don't find Lily being Patrick's narratively interesting enough to one-in-a-million the whole thing either 🤷‍♀️).

What does happen in Atlanta? Art's first mental wobble.

He doesn't win the 2011 US Open despite being the favorite to do so. Knowing Art and the whole Art/Tashi/Patrick mess he probably got into his head, slipped into a downward spiral, and imploded dramatically. Tashi would have complicated feelings about that but also, crucially, she did just cheat on him with Patrick and even though she doesn't think he knows... Maybe it's possible she feels a bit guilty for the cheating and a bit more guilty for the undeniable possibility that she somehow threw off Art's game due to vibes or a distracted coaching slip up or something. Maybe this is complicated by their upcoming wedding which was going to be a celebration and turns into a consolation prize, and how this kind of loss cannot be good for Art's inferiority complex about how she is really bad at reassuring him she does love him.

Maybe Tashi is lying in bed just before the wedding or on their honeymoon or even on their actual wedding night and she's been thinking about Patrick and Art and how to say I'm sorry and I still love you without acknowledging she did anything wrong for days, you know, and maybe she finally decides this is the best idea she's got.

And then maybe she turns to Art (silent in the dark) and says, unprompted, "Let's not wait. Let's have that baby now."

[hexhomos]

Do you have any comic recs for 1610!doomreed?

I gotta be real honest i would not recommend looking into 1610 if you haven't explored most of the mainline material yet. the 00's ultimates universe was the epitome of edgy "modern retelling" fads/hubris and part of 1610 doomreed's appeal to me is potential that was not explored in the page; i like how these edgy comics were later recontextualized as a Bad End universe where only villain reed and the newly created miles morales survive etc etc etc the TLDR of the whole thing is that it starts out fine, but then the world is plagued by questionable writing from shitty dudes and really bad traced art by the infamous guy who scribbles over porn stars. I just like the mental exercise of reimagining irony poisoned corporate media into a story that says anything (and this was partially the mindset that made them destroy this universe later on to salvage anything of note, resulting in hickman rebuilding that reed into a villain) there's also a lot of 00s irony gay jokes on that run fueling part of me. It ends on a bunch of ppl dying, sue gets engaged to ben which i thought was cute, and reed goes full eldritch thing

Further disclaimer, 1610 ultimates is not 2024 ultimate universe. 2024 is a modern line playing with the idea of villain reed building a new world based off his hatred of the universe that was destroyed.

That being said, you can find them on the early acts of Ultimate Fantastic Four (2004) - read the TPB version trust me it has less printing mistakes. After the first confrontation with doom, you will know when bc its a pretty dramatic event, the writers forget to put him in stuff for a while. When he next shows up he's been reset to look/act like regular doom and there is a re-imagining of the bodyswap story which begins on the last pgs of issue #30. Then he disappears again until marvel gets the idea to start destroying this universe in event books.

Reed's downward spiral is partially motivated by him thinking 'he created doom' / 'this world is an inherently rotten experiment' but it plays out in a bunch of separate titles until hickman shows up to introduce the Maker persona, general guide to that [here]

[tritannus]

I'm rewriting why Krystal brought Diaspro in to meet Sky.

Since this happened, season six would be rewritten eventually as well. I hate how they treated this girl.

Krystal is not an airhead, she realises things people don't. She was the only one who saw that her advice flew over Bloom's head. She advised Bloom to help Sky remember the people who are important to him, the places that are familiar to him. What does Bloom do? Bloom tries to force Sky to remember everything about her and her alone.

Krystal pulls Bloom aside and said this wouldn't work since Bloom isn't a part of his early life. This would only drive Sky away as he might believe he has to live to become whoever Bloom wants of him. Bloom doesn't listen and continues her own method, thinking it was the only way.

Krystal couldn't handle all this and reached out to someone how knows might still be bad news, Diaspro.

Diaspro was in a downward spiral after her banishment from Eraklyon, but she was eventually given one last chance since she was someone the king and queen knew since she was a child. She hated Sky, hated Bloom, hated anyone affiliated with her. She wanted to just hide away and pretend all this never happened. As if she was never groomed to be queen one day.

Krystal reached out to her and relayed Sky's condition. Diaspro is reluctant, but eventually agrees to help, knowing she is one of those who knew Sky since they were young.

Diaspro told Sky all about Eraklyon, all about their childhood, how they used to be engaged. He then asked why they broke it off. Diaspro admitted that it was because of Bloom. When Sky met Bloom, he was in love with her. Even though their relationship started off with a lie, it was clear Sky preferred Bloom over her.

Sky was dumbfounded, he didn't think he was that kind of person. He didn't think he could do something like that. Diaspro said that it's in the past and she wasn't bothered by it now. But Sky could see that wasn't the truth, Diaspro was bothered, even if it's just a little.

Diaspro shows Sky pictures of when they were little, pictures of his family, his friends, even his favourite place back in Eraklyon, which, at that time, was a small clearing far away from the castle. Sky begins having vague memories returning. They were so vague, it was as if it never happened. But he knew they happened, his heart softened a little when he reached out to those thoughts.

Diaspro decided her time with Sky was enough. She told him that he has to go back alone since Bloom doesn't like her. Sky asks her why. She doesn't elaborate, but admitted she did something to Sky that was deserving of her banishment. She admitted to poisoning him with a potion because she wasn't ready to let him go.

Surprisingly, Sky doesn't look angry, he doesn't look upset. Instead, he said that he understood all that pain and anger she must've had inside of her.

Diaspro suggested Sky tell Bloom what she wants to hear. How Diaspro always talked about herself, how she only seem interested in topics that surround her. Sky was confused and said that sounded exactly like what Bloom did since she tried helping him get his memories back.

Diaspro smiled and said, Bloom wouldn't know that's what she did.

Sky did exactly what Diaspro suggested and realised she was right. Bloom has absolutely no idea how she kept trying to get Sky to remember her over everything else about himself.

[pie-of-flames]

Beatles Break Up

New here, nobody knows me but I have opinions, so I'm answering this question.

10. If you were going to blame a single person for the Beatles' break-up, who would it be?

I'm new to the fandom and not the most knowledgeable person, but my current opinion is mostly John. (#something happened in India). Brian's death plus John's marriage falling apart plus whatever happened in India sent John into a downward spiral. We know he was deeply depressed in the latter part of the India trip and after his return to England. I think everything he did after that was his attempt to deal with his emotional pain, including hooking up with Yoko, doing heroin and latching onto Klein as a savior. Those things lead to the breakup.

I think that he probably had borderline personality disorder. (Caveat: not a psychologist, but I have personal experience that informs my conclusion.) People with BPD latch onto a "favorite person" on whom they're dependent for mental well-being. PAUL, then YOKO. They have no internal sense of self or identity, so they depend on others to create it. (PAUL and THE BEATLES, then YOKO) Consequently, they easily feel rejected based on imagined slights. Their psyche can't tolerate their favorite person (or others) rejecting them. Once they feel rejected, they have to do a 360 and reject the favorite person in turn to protect themselves from that all-consuming feeling of rejection, which is a threat to their sense of self. They find "evidence" to support this rejection story and fully believe in it even if it has no basis in reality.

Does this sound like anybody we know?

John - see his comments all through the 70's and his continuing obsession with Paul years after the fact. Also fear of abandonment is a common obsession of those with BPD. You can easily see how this fits John. (Parents rejecting him, always afraid of being abandoned.) People with BPD commonly suffered childhood trauma. They also commonly use drugs and alcohol to self-medicate and fill the emptiness inside. They take absolutely everything personally. And they can't put themselves in other people's shoes at all. They're incapable of it.

They also feel emotions intensely, way more intensely than most people. It's difficult for average people to understand. The emotions can be overwhelming, sometimes to the degree that every day life is difficult. (and drugs are a great way to dull those emotions). They just can't handle things the way most people can. Also they have no boundaries because they need to fully mesh with someone to feel OK.

Something happened in India™ that made it intolerable for John to keep Paul as his "favorite person." It could just have been that Paul left early and John read that as personal rejection when he wasn't feeling well mentally. Someone with BPD could definitely have reacted that way and justified their emotional reaction with a bunch of made-up stuff. Or maybe he did approach Paul sexually and Paul rejected him. John was probably also threatened by Paul's engagement to Jane. Whatever it was, it's reasonable to interpret his subsequent behavior as trying to move on from Paul as his "favorite person."

Yoko had been pursuing John for a long time after she didn't get anywhere with Paul. Here she was, offering herself up as a way out of John's dilemma. He immediately latched on to her like a lifesaver. Which she literally was. He couldn't tolerate the situation he was in emotionally. She could provide him a new identity, apart from Paul. I mean, John and Yoko spent one night together and suddenly were soulmates and creative partners? Who does that? Someone with BPD.

Then she got him hooked on heroin. Heroin allowed him to escape the Paul and Beatles situation and mesh more fully with Yoko. And once he was addicted, it took over his life. He was literally incapable of fully engaging with Paul and the Beatles, and it made creating music more difficult. He grew more reliant on Yoko to navigate life for him and to be a partner in addiction. (eg speaking for John in Get Back meeting) The other Beatles couldn't understand him any more and he'd cut himself off from them with his Yoko and heroin obsessions. In Episode 1 of Get Back, he's not really there. He looks totally out of it and barely interacts. He definitely looks high at some points. He rebounds in the later episodes - the change is remarkable and I wonder if he's taking some other drug to counteract the effects.

He wanted Paul to save him, but Paul decided he wouldn't/couldn't. It's not clear what exactly John wanted Paul to do, but bringing Yoko to the studio etc, was a clear provocation. Having her right next to him constantly while they were trying to work? Who does that? Someone with no boundaries who has insatiable emotional needs. who wants to show their former "favorite person" that they can survive without them with a new "favorite person." Maybe Paul was tired of dealing with John's needs after a dozen years. Dealing with BPD people is difficult and exhausting. I suspect if Paul had "saved" him, the Beatles wouldn't have broken up in the way they did. But maybe it was too late.

"Walking on eggshells" is a common experience for people close to a BPD sufferer, who often explodes and has temper tantrums caused by their overwhelming, intense emotions. Maybe Paul didn't want to confront John about Yoko or anything else because he was afraid John would blow up or quit on the spot. Drug use exacerbates the emotional rollercoaster.

A healthy person could've stayed in the Beatles and had a new relationship at the same time. But John couldn't because being in the Beatles meant being confronted with Paul's perceived rejection of him, not to mention his jealousy of Paul's musical ability and feeling bad about himself. (Paul has a million song ideas, creates Get Back, Let It Be and Long and Winding Road practically instantaneously, while John has almost nothing, Paul always asking him for songs.)

Anyway, I think John's heroin addiction is crucial to the break up. An addict isn't emotionally available, they only care about the drug (and for John, Yoko by extension), they feel lousy when they're not high and they don't have good judgment.

Which brings me to Klein. Klein knew how to flatter John and appeal to his needs but in addition, John needed to be rescued. Klein promised to do that. Brian had always taken care of everything and now he wasn't there. (These guys had never had to be functioning adults! They went from being teens to gigantic superstars who had everything done for them. Their accountant bought their houses! They never carried cash!) The combination of intense emotional need plus addiction got in the way of John being able to see Klein for what he was; he ignored the warning signs that Klein couldn't be trusted. Yoko supported this because she seems to have never even liked the Beatles and wanted John to go out on his own with her? (Just surmising. I don't know much about her.)

Obviously, things happened over time that made the situation worse, but John caused the trajectory towards breakup, IMHO. I think he suffered from serious mental illness made worse by drug use. He became unmoored when his pillars of semi-stability eroded - Brian and Cynthia and (something happened in India™} Paul. His mental illness made the situation emotionally intolerable for him and he had to extract himself, leading to Yoko and heroin. Those things, in turn, lead to further separation from and difficulty communicating with Paul and the band. Etc etc. etc.

[iohera]

so, gray

i like pete wentz, theoretically. i'm drawn to his lyrics because i think they're clever, self-aware, self-aggrandizing in a way that i find to be tastefully ironic and relatable. however, i think there's a difference between pete wentz (lyricist) and pete wentz (novelist). spoilers for gray (2013) ahead.

gray is not a good book. or, at the very least, i found it very difficult to enjoy. one, it crystallizes a misogyny from fall out boy's early lyrics in a much more detailed, virulent way that honesty made the novel difficult to get through sometimes. i don't think there's a single female character with a name throughout the entire book, and the way wentz writes about women conveys an inability (or disinterest) in seeing them a people rather than accessories to the narrator's life. this is most evident in the character Her. not giving her a name is a stylistic choice i can appreciate— only calling the character "Her" conveys that the narrator deifies her and puts her on a pedestal, stripping her of the fallibility inextricable from human nature. i wish the novel went literally anywhere with that theme, because it's good! instead, the ending seems to reinforce the narrator's view of her. it literally ends with him fantasizing about her as an angel waiting for him on the other side after she's suddenly died. the only interesting scene between a woman and the narrator was when he met ashlee simpson an unnamed hyperfamous celebrity party girl constantly bombarded by the paparazzi. i can't say that her portrayal was particularly nice, but i found their dynamic to be very compelling; she was someone who had her own desires, evident flaws, she made the narrator nervous and put him on his toes. the one chapter that she was in was the only point in the entire book where i was engaged in the relationship between the narrator and one of his many sexual conquests (each of which the novel takes great care to detail), because she was the only one who it felt like wentz was interested in empathizing with her point of view and the root causes behind her problems.

i would criticize the ending for having the main female love interest (who was treated very poorly by the narrator throughout the entire book) die for the sake of the narrator's character development, but i can't because his character never develops! this is the second major flaw in the novel; the characters are shallow, go nowhere, and not as interesting as pete wentz thought they might be. the toxic downward spiral of the narrator and Her's relationship might've been compelling if we knew anything about Her flaws as a person, because as it is it just makes the narrator look like entirely unsympathetic. main characters don't necessarily have to be sympathetic, but the story reads like "the narrator torments and manipulates this girl repeatedly until she kills herself, and then uses it to advance his own myopic self-pity"— which is as uninteresting as it is unsympathetic. it makes the structure of novel unbearably route; the narrator and Her get together, fall apart due to the narrator projecting his insecurities onto her, he goes on a drug binge and harasses her until they get back together and have sex, rinse and repeat. i think that wentz was going for meandering character study, a catcher in the rye type story, which for me did not work at all. for the record, i also dislike a catcher in the rye but can at least recognize that at the time it was published it was a unique look at teenage angst and depression— that type of miserable ennui is far less engaging when the narrator is 27. the narration itself is also just not very compelling— what makes wentz's lyrics good (clever, smug turns of phrase, florid descriptions of internal malaise) makes for insufferable prose.

i could go on. the side characters (who go by transparent pseudonyms for dirty, andy, and patrick), barely in the novel, who way more interesting than the main characters and "plot"; the sprinkling in of fall out boy lyrics reformatted as prose is bizarre and masturbatory; the constant, stagnant, mean-spirited pseudophilosophy that reads like baby's first misanthropy; etc, etc. there are things i liked about it— his descriptions of anxiety and addiction are raw and real, for example— but i cannot recommend this book to anyone. 2/5. go read the bell jar or even a catcher in the rye for a more competent version of the same thing.

[hangmans-darling]

Live Forever [Part 7: FINAL] Jake Seresin

summary: Jake Seresin and Magnolia James have always been tied together, soon enough their ties become entangled over the years. This is their love story.

word count: 5.8k

warnings: a confession,

masterlist

live forever masterlist

Feedback is always welcome! Enjoy!🥰

The following week is busy because Johnny and Nola hosted two dinners at their house. The first one was on Monday night for their friends to celebrate Johnny’s promotion and Nola was excited for Layla to come by so she can try and talk to her about what happened with Jake. When it was an hour after the dinner party started, she called Layla asking where she was. 

“I’m back home with Bodhi for his parent’s anniversary, remember?” 

“But what about the party?”

“What party?”

“The party for Johnny’s promotion…didn’t he send you an invite?” Nola asks. 

“No…he didn’t. You know I would be there if you’d asked, Nola, but me and Bodhi had no idea. Are you mad I’m not there? Because I really didn’t have–”

“No, no I’m not mad at all. I was just hoping to talk to you that’s all, but you have fun with Bodhi’s parents. Tell them I say hello and happy anniversary.”

“I will. We’ll meet up and talk when I’m back, okay? Love you!”

Nola went in a downward spiral after that. When she returned to the party in their backyard she looked around at all of their guests and it was all of Johnny’s friends from the Navy with their wives or girlfriends. None of her friends were here and that realization suddenly made her feel so alone. 

She went to the bartender that Johnny hired for the evening and asked for a double amaretto sour. Nola sipped it down quickly and asked for another and another. The more she drank the more her mind became more muddled. Jake and Johnny were sweeping in and out of her head and then she stumbled into Johnny, her new drink sloshing over her arm.

“Ah, here’s my lady. How’re you–”

“Why didn’t you call Layla and Bodhi to come? Aren’t they your friends, too?” Nola stares up at him with blurry eyes and an indignant expression.

“What? How much have you had to drink, Lia?” he laughs nervously. 

“A lot, but I needed it. It’s helping me think,” she sways a little and Johnny holds onto her shoulders. “I answered your question, you answer mine.” 

“Lia, let's get you some coffee. Excuse us,” Johnny steers her towards the house.

“Maggie! There you are! I was wondering where you disappeared to–”

“My name is Nola, not Maggie,” Nola grumbles at Delilah who looks offended. 

“Okay, let’s go inside,” Johnny rushes her in through the door. 

Once inside, he drags her into the kitchen and shuts the swinging door. 

“What the hell are you doing?” he hisses.

“Drinking,” she shrugs and goes to take another drink. 

“No, you’re done drinking,” he takes her glass and sets it on the counter. More of the liquid sloshes onto the countertop. “I don’t want you to come back out until you’ve had some water or drank a whole pot of coffee. I can’t believe you’d embarrass me like that, especially this week.”

He leaves her in the kitchen and Nola can hear him making an excuse that she wasn’t feeling all that well and had to go to bed. 

“I don’t want to party here anyway,” she mumbles and sucks down more of her drink. She pulls her phone out and presses the call button. It rings and rings and rings and then the other end finally picks up. “Hi. I want to have fun and Johnny won’t let me. Can you come get me?”

“Nola? Are you okay?” Jake asks and she hears noises in the background.

“See, you’re having fun and Johnny’s not. Come get me. I want to play pool and see Phoenix and Coyote.”

“We were actually going to head out soon, we have early training tomorrow.”

Nola groans. “Fine. I’ll just go to bed.”

“Don’t you have to work tomorrow?”

“Oh yeah,” Nola closes her eyes. “I should sleep. Don’t want to be hungover at work.” 

“Nola…are you okay?” Jake asks and she hears how silent it is on his end now. He must have left the bar. 

“I don’t know,” she sniffs and stares at her engagement ring. The kiss with Jake pops in her head again and she covers her eyes but the tears still fall. She tries to keep her sobs in but she ends up gasping for breath. 

“Hey, hey, it’s all right. Take deep breaths, baby.”

That makes Nola cry harder at the pet name. 

“I wish you were here,” she whispers into the phone. 

“That’ll make for a fun party,” he snickers. “Do you want me to come? I bet we can smoke dear ole’ Johnny’s friends in beer pong.”

“We don’t have beer pong set up,” she giggles and peels off her heels. She leaves them slumped on the floor and she heads upstairs to her and Johnny’s bedroom. She flops on their bed and sighs in contentment. “My head is spinning.”

“You need a full bottle of water and two Tylenol, Nola,” Jake tells her. 

“I don’t want to get up. My bed is comfy. You do it.” 

“I would if I could sugar, but I don’t think Johnny would appreciate seeing me in your bedroom. I’m right here with you, so you can get it.”

“‘Kay,” she sighs then rolls over onto her back. Her head is still spinning but she makes it into the bathroom for the Tylenol. She pops the top and fills a cup of water then downs the pills. “I took them.”

“Good. Do you have water?”

“It’s all the way downstairs,” she pouts staring at her outfit in the mirror. “I still have my dress on.” 

“Go downstairs, get your water and then you can take your dress off,” he tells her then swears.

“Why the swear?” 

“Picturing you in a dress,” he sighs. 

“You don’t even know what I’m wearing,” she laughs and stomps heavily down the stairs back to the kitchen. 

“I have a great imagination. I’m guessing you have on a pretty little black dress.”

“Mm, you’re not wrong,” she sighs and opens the fridge. There’s tons of water bottles in there and she snatches one, the others fall down like bowling pins. “I have my water.”

“Good girl. Now go get into your comfy clothes.” 

Nola turns her phone on speaker while she gets ready for bed. They don’t say anything but it’s comforting knowing he’s there. It’s tormenting Jake in the best yet worse possible way hearing the zipper of her dress and the soft sounds it makes as it falls to the floor.

“Will you be able to sleep with the party going on?” Jake asks while she dries her face off. 

“Yeah, they’re all outside. We’re having another one of these on Thursday but that’s with his commanders and captains. Then it’s the big one Friday night.” 

“You’ll be fine, Nola. You’ll win them over no problem.”

“I don’t think so,” she shakes her head and smacks off the bathroom light. She crawls into bed flicking off the bedside table lamp. Tears stain her pillow. “I really messed up tonight, Jake.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“Tonight was a party for our friends, and when Layla didn’t show up after an hour I called her and she was never invited. All the people here are Johnny’s friends so I started drinking because then I thought of you and the kiss and Johnny and I guess…I guess I embarrassed him by drinking too much.”

“Don’t believe that for a second. I’ve seen you drunk plenty of times and you’re adorable and funny.”

“Not this time,” she sniffs, “I yelled at him for not inviting Layla and Bodhi. Then Delilah called me Maggie and I snapped at her. He told me I embarrassed him.” 

“I can come over and kick his ass, you’re never an embarrassment.”

“I don’t think I can do this,” she whispers.

“Do what?” 

“Everything he wants me to do. I won’t make a good Lieutenant Commander’s wife.”

“Shh,Nola, stop that right now. That’s the alcohol talking and it’s all a lie. Sleep it off and I’m sure everything will be fine by tomorrow.”

“Can you stay on until I fall asleep?”

“Of course, darlin’.”

“Tell me about your training.”

Jake goes into detail about what they’ve all done so far, and that their teacher, Maverick, did something inverted. Nola was lulled to sleep by his soft voice.

***

Tension was high between Johnny and Nola. She apologized Tuesday evening for drinking too much, she honestly didn’t mean to and Johnny forgave her. She knew he was stressed about the next dinner party with his superiors and then the promotion party on Friday. 

“What can I do to help?” she asks covering his hand on the dinner table Wednesday night. 

“All I need is you. Honestly after you went to bed Monday, I was miserable. You weren’t an embarrassment at all, I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I’m sorry, Lia.” He lifts her hand and kisses the back of it. “I’m excited and nervous for Friday but knowing you’re going to be there beside me…helps more than you know.”

“I promise I won’t drink that much tomorrow night.”

“I was hoping we could do a shot before they all got here,” Johnny laughs.

“We can do that,” she smiles and they continue with their dinner. 

Nola wants to tell Johnny about the kiss with Jake but she’s not sure how he’d react exactly. And now is definitely not the time to tell him when this week is so important for him. She also couldn’t get the kiss out of her mind or what Jake said about Johnny. 

It’s true, she does feel like a different person with him but she doesn’t feel like she can be herself. It’s as if she has this mask on, as if it would cloak the heartache left over from Jake that never really left. Being with Johnny did mask that, sure, Jake still crossed her mind from time to time but now that he’s back in her life the mask is starting to peel away. 

And the pain is starting to heal because of Jake being back in her life. It’s all very confusing.

The conversation with Phoenix while they were on the beach arises. She was one hundred percent honest when she said she’d be with Jake in a heartbeat if he said he wanted to be with her. 

What if he broke her heart again?

“Are you okay?” Johnny asks as she rubs at her temple.

“Just a small headache.”

The second dinner party went by without a catch. Nola stayed by Johnny’s side the whole night and he told her she charmed everyone in attendance. Jake texted her asking how the night went and she said everything was fine. He replied with a snarky ‘I told you so.’ 

Nola left work early on Friday so she could get ready for the promotion dinner. She had on a dark blue dress with sequins along the bodice but she just couldn’t get the zipper all the way up.

“Baby, are you almost ready?” Johnny knocks on their bedroom door.

“Just about. I can’t get the zipper up all the way…” 

Johnny opens the door and finds her with her arms twisted behind her back. He smiles because she looks like a human pretzel.

“Let me,” he says brushing her hands to the side. He pulls the zipper up the rest of the way then places his hands on her waist. He ducks his head into her neck and shoulder, staring at their reflection in the mirror. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she smiles. “You clean up well, Lieutenant Commander Fischer.” 

“That’s the first time I’ve heard that, I’m glad it was from you,” he kisses her neck. “Are you ready to go?”

“Mhm,” she nods.

Nola stares in amazement at the venue for the promotion dinner. There are hundreds of tables draped with the whitest linen and so many people. There’s a stage with chairs and the flags placed behind them. 

She stays on Johnny’s arm as they pass from person to person to introduce themselves. Nola repeats how proud she is of Johnny.

“I’ll be right back, I have to do a final run through with Commander Clark,” Johnny kisses her cheek. “Will you be all right?”

“Oh, we’ve got her under our wing, John,” the Commander’s wife Beverly winks. “You go on ahead.” 

“I’ll see you at the table,” Johnny nods to Nola then heads towards Commander Clark.

“Well, are you ready for your promotion as well, Lia?” Beverly asks. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You’re going to be not only a new wife but a Lieutenant Commander’s wife. That comes with a whole new list of responsibilities, you’ll be hosting dinners, fundraisers, helping out with the balls. Also while keeping house and taking care of the children once you have them. You need to keep home in tip top ship shape,” Beverly explains. 

“Oh, I didn’t realize I’d have all of that to do,” Nola says. She starts to twist her ring in nerves. Hosting dinner parties and fundraisers? 

“Oh yes, it’s not just him, dear. But don’t worry, you’ve got all of us to help and guide you,” Beverly smiles.

Nola turns her gaze to Johnny who is having a grand time speaking with Commander Clark. Did Johnny know she’d be doing all of this as well? Will their marriage even be a marriage or just a romanticized partnership? Will there be time for just them? Does she want this? 

“Are you all right, dear? You’ve paled,” Beverly touches her shoulder gently and Nola flinches.

“I’m sorry. I need some water, excuse me.”

She rushes from the room and Johnny notices her quick exit. He excuses himself and follows her down the hall. He finds her pacing and taking deep breaths. 

“Nola? What’s the matter, did someone say something–”

“Jake kissed me.” 

He stares at her.

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” she covers her mouth, surprised that she blurted it out like that. Where did that even come from? “I–it happened over the weekend. At The Hard Deck. He kissed me and he’ll take full responsibility but I kissed him back. I didn’t want to at first but then I did and then I thought of you and I–I’m so sorry Johnny. Now I was told I’m going to be hosting dinner parties and fundraisers and helping out with other balls and things which doesn’t sound that bad but it just–it hit me and I’m freaking out a little–”

“You and Jake kissed?” Johnny asks softly.

Nola takes a deep breath after her long rant. 

“Yes.” 

“And…and you decide to tell me this on one of the biggest nights of my life?”

“I’ve been wanting to tell you all week but I didn’t want to ruin this week for you.”

“Yeah, good job,” he nods and he starts to pace. He rubs at his chin while his other hand is clenching and unclenching at his side. “Did you feel anything?”

“W-what?”

“When you kissed him, did you feel anything?” 

“I…” she stares at him trying to gauge where his mind is at. She has no idea. “Yes, I did. I’m so sorry Johnny I didn’t–”

He holds up his hands stopping her from coming close to him.

“This is what we’re going to do. We’re going to go in there and pretend everything is fine. We’ll get through the ceremony and the rest of the evening and we’ll continue this later at home.”

“Johnny–”

“Lia, please,” he closes his eyes. “Please do this for me. I want to pretend I have no idea my fiance kissed an old lover. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” she nods slowly. 

“All right then. Let’s go, it’s about to start.”

Nola somehow keeps her composure for the rest of the evening. She smiles and claps at the appropriate times and gives Johnny a kiss when he’s announced for his promotion. Seeing him up onstage really sets in what her future will look like. 

She sees more dinners like this, she sees them flying across the country or the world depending on where he’s stationed. She sees a family but instead of a nice home with lots of land, there’s a nanny that helps because she has to attend every ball and promotion with Johnny. 

She sees their whole future and when he sits back down next to her, squeezes her knee and then places his hand over her left, covering her ring, she’s not entirely sure that’s the future she wants. 

***

“So, what do we do?” Johnny asks when they’re back home. They’re still in their dinner clothes, Nola’s feet and head hurt. 

“I don’t know.” 

“I know what I want to do. I want to go and find Jake and punch the daylights out of him for kissing you.”

“Johnny,” Nola shakes her head.

“But I won’t do that. I had a feeling when you first told me you ran into him that something could happen. But I trust you, Nola, and I knew you’d tell me. At least, I thought you would.”

“That’s the only time something happened, I promise. I’m not…I would never cheat on you and I know that I did now because I kissed him. I’m so confused,” she holds her head in anguish. “I need to think but there’s too many things going on.” 

“Okay, then let’s think,” Johnny folds his arms over his chest. “I still want to marry you, Lia but I also know how deep a history you and Jake have.”

“Are you mad?” she asks quietly. 

“I am, but I’m more terrified of losing you forever. I’m going to bed.”

“Johnny, wait–”

He walks upstairs ignoring her and their bedroom door shuts with a hard snap. 

***

Nola is sitting at the bar of The Hard Deck  waiting for him to arrive. She has an ice cold glass of water and her fingers are playing with the perspiration along the edge. She’s still in her evening dress because she didn’t want to go into her bedroom and be ignored by Johnny. He has every right to ignore her but she had to get out of that house. 

“Where’d you come from dressed all fancy?” Javy asks behind her. 

She spins around in the stool to look at him. His wide smile falters when he sees the look on her face. 

“What’s going on?” he asks taking the seat next to her. 

“Jake and I kissed–”

“I know.”

“And he told me he’d take the blame for it if I told Johnny but I kissed him back and then at the dinner tonight–wait. You know?”

“He told me the night it happened,” Javy nods. 

“Oh. Um. What else did he say?” 

Javy stares at her then sighs.

“He said it’d be worth it if Johnny kicks his ass for kissing you.”

“Oh.” 

“So, you told Johnny…then what happened?”

“I told him at his dinner tonight. It just blurted out of me and then we pretended for the rest of the evening and when we got home he said he still wants to marry me but that I should take time to think.” 

“I see,” Javy nods then leans towards her, “do you want to know what I think?”

“Please.”

“I don’t think you should marry Johnny either. Because Jake never stopped loving you, Nola. I know what happened in Germany was bad, but he was a complete mess after that. That’s when he started being selfish and only worrying about himself. That’s how he became Hangman. He would sleep around with women and became more of an asshole. I think he did it to try and get over you, but he never did.” 

“Oh,” Nola stares at her glass again.  

“He only worries for himself because he made a promise to you that he’d stay alive.”

“What do you think I should do?” 

“That’s not up to me. I think you’ve known what you need to do, you just have to put it in motion. Can I give you a drive home? I’m sorry to cut this short but we’re going on the mission tomorrow and I don’t want to be too late.”

“No, I’ll be fine. You go get some sleep. Thanks for meeting with me, Javy.”

“Anytime,” he smiles and gives her a hug. 

“Is Jake going to be flying on the mission?” she asks before he leaves.

“I don’t know. We’ll all find out tomorrow who’s doing it.” 

Nola had a few more drinks but she doesn’t want to go home yet so she calls Layla to come pick her up. Layla agrees instantly and is at the bar in twenty minutes.

“What’s up?” Layla asks touching her shoulder.

“Everything is so messed up,” Nola whispers then throws herself into her best friend’s arms. Layla hugs her tightly as she cries.

“I know this won’t help, but you look beautiful in this dress,” Layla comments and it makes Nola choke out a laugh. 

“Thanks,” she sniffs and wipes under her eyes. 

“Your makeup is running, c’mere,” Layla grabs some napkins and dabs at Nola’s face. “Is it Johnny?”

“And Jake.”

“And Jake?”

“Jake and I kissed last weekend and I told Johnny tonight right before his big dinner. He still wants to marry me but says we both need time to think and I don’t want to go home. I talked with Javy and…I don’t know, Layla.” 

“Come stay with me for the night,” Layla rubs at Nola’s arm. “Or the weekend. You can stay in the guest room and I have clothes you can borrow. We’ll figure it out.”

After taking a hot shower and putting on sweats and a t-shirt, Nola and Layla discussed everything about Johnny and Jake. Layla gave the exact same advice as Javy that she doesn’t think she should marry Johnny. 

“I thought he was good for you at first,” Layla says, “You seemed so much better since Jake when you were with him. But ever since you got engaged…something changed. I always thought you and Jake would end up together.”

“He’s never said he wants to be with me, though.”

“From what you’ve told me, he does. He kissed you, Nola! He said he’d take the full blame if you told Johnny and decided to stay with him. You need to talk to Jake.”

“I need to talk to Johnny first. But I need to sleep and think some more, my head hurts.”

On Sunday morning Nola went into the kitchen where she smelled coffee brewing. Layla handed her a cup and leaned forward on the counter.

“What are you going to do?” Layla asks.

“I need to go to Johnny and return this,” Nola removes her ring from her finger and places it onto the countertop. Having it off of her finger lifted so much weight. 

“Good luck,” Layla gives her a soft smile. 

***

When Nola arrives home, she finds Johnny sitting at the counter where two plates sit full of breakfast food. Her favorite coffee mug is steaming but when Johnny’s eyes meet hers there’s a knowing in them. His eyes flicker to her barren finger and he stands up from the stool, he walks slowly around it so he’s standing in front of her. 

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi.”

“I take it you were with him while you were thinking?” 

“No, I stayed at Layla’s. Johnny, I–”

“You don’t have to say it, Lia,” he holds up his hand but she steps closer to him.

“No, I need to say this. Please look at me,” she says and grabs his cheek as he turns away. She held it softly so he was still looking at her, his brown eyes looked so sad. “You are such a great man, Johnny. You’re ambitious, strong, and wonderful. You came into my life unexpectedly and I placed the responsibility of healing my broken heart when it wasn’t.”

“Lia–”

“I haven’t been fair to you, Johnny. I do love you but…not in the way you want me to. You deserve someone who wants to host Navy parties with you and mingle with your superiors. I’m just not her.”

“But you are! I’ve never felt this way about anyone else, Lia,” he cups her cheek, his eyes firm with his words. 

“I can’t be with you when I’m in love with someone else,” she whispers. Her lower lip trembles and she starts to cry. “That’s not fair to you.” 

He sighs deeply and rests his forehead against hers.

“What if I said I’d be okay with it?” he asks and Nola chuckles. 

“We both know you’d be lying. Please, take this ring and save it for someone else who truly deserves it,” she removes his hand from her cheek and places the ring in his palm. She closes his fingers over it. 

“Lia,” he says but she keeps her eyes focused on their fingers. “Can you look at me?”

She bites her lip shifting her eyes from their hands to his face. There are tears in his own eyes, one escapes and she catches it with her thumb that is still pressed to his cheek. 

“You’ve shown me what it’s like to be loved by someone and I’ll never forget that. I hope I can love someone as well as you love him.” 

“I’m so sorry, Johnny,” she cries, throwing her head into his chest. His arms wrap around her tightly and they hug for a long time. She breathes in the scent of his shirt, a part of her heart is breaking. 

“It’s okay, Lia. I’ll be fine. You go and find Jake.”

“What about the house?”

“I’ll get movers to come by and take my things to a house closer to the ship. I got a Lieutenant Commander’s house with the promotion. You can stay as long as you’d like.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive,” he kisses the side of her head. “I actually need to get going, so you can freshen up before you go to Jake.”

“Thank you,” she tells him and pulls away so she can look at him one last time. He nods then disentangles her arms from him. She notices he’s in his uniform and then he’s out the door. 

Nola lets a few more tears fall before she runs upstairs to take a shower. As she’s washing her hair and trying to find a nice outfit to wear, she has a giddy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She feels completely untethered and is excited to find Jake. 

She’s met with a barricade when she arrives at Top Gun. She’s not allowed through without clearance and as much as she begged to get Jake Seresin they wouldn’t let her in. 

“Is he even inside? Can’t you call him?”

“No ma’am, he and the other pilots left early this morning to carry out their duties,” one armed guard says. 

“When will they be back?”

“We’re not sure.”

“Could you please give this to him for me when he returns?” Nola holds out an envelope. She wrote a letter while she was at Layla’s house just in case this would happen and she’s glad she did. “Please?”

“All right,” he takes the envelope. “You need to head home, now ma’am.” 

***

The next forty-eight hours were torturous for Nola. She went through her school day in a blur and she had to deal with the movers taking Johnny’s things while he was also there delegating what was his. It was hard and awkward. It wasn’t until Wednesday that he texted her he was all moved out. 

Jake never left her mind. She worried if he was hurt or if he was coming back at all. What if the guard didn’t give him her letter? What if he got the letter and ripped it up because she was too late? 

***

Jake was still running on adrenaline from his second kill in the sky and knowing that Maverick and Rooster were alive and well when they landed back at Top Gun. He felt like he could take on anything right now, hell, he could climb Mount Everest. 

“Lieutenant Seresin,” one of the guards from the front gate struts his way over to Jake. “A woman left this for you on Sunday.” 

Jake looks down at the envelope recognizing Nola’s hand. He snatches the envelope so fast he feels the paper slice his skin but he doesn’t care. He rips it open and turns away from his friends. 

Jake, 

I’m sorry it took me so long but I’m giving Johnny his ring back. It was never really mine anyway because I’ve always been yours. Even though it’s been nine years since we saw each other, I’ve always known I was yours and you were mine. Seeing you and being with you again solidified that but I was stuck. 

I was stuck in still trying to heal my heart after Germany and trying to fill the role of who I thought Johnny wanted me to be. 

I was hoping to get to you before you left, so I hope you get this letter. It’s always been you Jake.

And I’ve always been yours,

Your Nola

“What’s that?” Phoenix asks trying to peer at the letter.

“I have to go find Nola. Where are my keys?”

“In your locker where you always put them,” Phoenix deadpans then crosses her arms. “What’s going on? Is Nola hurt?”

“No,” Jake grins folding the letter and placing it in his pants pocket. “I have to go get my girl.” 

After some sweet talking with the ladies in the school office, Jake runs as fast as he can down the hall towards Nola’s room. The day is almost over but he couldn’t wait until the bell rang, he had to see her now. He busts through her door and she jumps at the sound then gasps when she sees it’s him. 

“Uncle Jake!” Charlie rushes towards him and hugs his legs. 

Jake is still trying to catch his breath but he hugs his niece. “Hi munchkin.”

“Is my daddy home too?” 

“Yeah he is, he’s going to pick you up with your mama.”

“Yay!”

“I need to talk to Miss James quick, okay?” he tells her then glances up at Nola.

“Charlie, go back to your table please. The school day is almost over,” Nola instructs and Charlie runs back to her chair. “Jake, what–”

“I know you can’t sleep with your window open,” he begins. 

“What?” 

“You hit snooze on your alarm about three times until you force yourself out of bed,” he pants moving closer to her.

“Jake, class is almost over, can’t this wait?” She looks at her children smiling softly.

“No, I need to get this out,” he shakes his head. “I wasn’t picked to do this mission, I was on standby in case things went awry and they did. I could have died and the whole time I kept thinking of you. But I always think of you. I’ve thought about you everyday since I saw you painting in the art room our freshman year.”

“You have?” her features soften, Jake nods. 

“I know you love hot chocolate before bed when it’s wintertime and that when someone tells you a fact you already knew, you pretend you didn’t because you don’t want to hurt their feelings. You’re bold and generous and kind and since that day freshman year…I’ve been a goner,” he confesses as he crosses her room to get to her. 

“You’re my dream girl, you always have been and you always will be. The reason I kept coming back to you all those times when we weren’t together? It was because you were my first time, too. There was never anyone before you Nola. it’s always been you. I’ve been in love with you all these years and there’s no way in hell I’m going to make the same mistake of letting you go a third time.”

“Jake, I–”

“I roll through life like a rolling fire and you bring the rain like a thunderstorm. My world hasn’t been the same since we got together.”

“Even though it’s been nine years since we were?” she asks. 

“You said so in your letter,” he pulls it from his pocket. “All this time, you’ve never left my mind once. I still keep a picture of you in my cockpit of you wearing my cowboy hat because you bring me luck. I’m in love with you, Nola and I promise to never let go of you again.”

She opens her mouth to say something but Jake can’t wait so he pulls her into his arms and kisses her. Charlie cheers in the background and some of the boys yell out in disgust but Nola kisses him back with all she’s got until the bell rings loudly. Nola pulls away but Jake keeps his arms around her waist when she acknowledges her class. 

“Um, have a good night, class. Tomorrow we’ll paint our clay figurines,” she says and they scramble from their seats. 

“Bye Uncle Jake!” Charlie waves and darts from the room.

When the last student exits, Jake kisses her again.

“Wait, wait, let me shut the door,” she gasps and escapes his hold. She closes the door and pulls down the blind over the window. When she turns around, Jake is in her space lifting her into his arms. “Oh!”

“Did you really give back the ring?” he asks.

“I did,” she nods touching his face. She sees how red his cheeks are. “Did you run here?”

“Pretty much,” he laughs. “We just got back from the mission when I got your letter and I had to get to you.” 

“I’m happy you’re safe,” she smiles. “And that you got my letter.”

“Thanks for leaving me one.” 

“Was I really your first, too?” She turns her head to the side and he nods. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I knew you were nervous and I wanted you to think I knew what I was doing to try and take the pressure off. I was nervous as hell,” he chuckles. 

“Really? Why?” she giggles rubbing at his sideburns. His thumbs are rubbing circles onto her waist and she realizes her feet are still off the ground. 

“Because I couldn’t believe you were actually going to be my first. I wanted it to be perfect.”

“It was.”

“Yeah?” He cocks an eyebrow.

“Mhm,” she nods inching closer until their lips touch once more. Before he can slip his tongue into her mouth, she breaks the kiss. “So this whole time you had me thinking  you were with all these girls? You were such a flirt!”

“Sorry, baby,” he grins.

“I hate you,” she laughs. 

“I know you don’t,” he shakes his head, capturing her lower lip. 

“Yes, I do,” she laughs teasing him by tilting her head away from his kiss. “You’re stupid.”

“I know,” he kisses her cheek instead. 

“Idiotic.”

“I know,” he finally captures her lips in another kiss. This one lasts longer, his tongue swiping over her lower lip and her fingers curl into his hair. 

“I’m in love with you,” she whispers.

“I know that too.”

[roosterbruiser]

trash exes? my ex-basically-fiancé (we had been ring shopping okay like it was close. like he had it picked out and ready to go. we were within days or WEEKS of putting a ring on it)

i knew him since i was 12 and he was 16 (shoulda been my first red flag but we didn’t know that yet)

but yes i was 12 and he was 16 and i was good friends with the whole family. so we started dating when i was 16 and like officially put labels on it when i was 18 and he was 22

so my whole middle school through high school experience and early to middle college years were all wrapped up in this guy

and it started out fine but then he is super handsome and would get a lot of female attention and wouldn’t do anything to dissuade them and he was friends with a lot of girls. but would get mad at me when i would miss a text from him or not answer him and really would manipulate me into thinking i was the problem and all this horrible stuff.

then he started making ME the third wheel when we would hang out with one of our mutual friends who was a girl!! like we went to target once and he ABANDONED ME and went shopping with her!

insanity. anyways. we were planning to get married

but it was seriously ruining my life and my relationships and i was so so so unhappy and i finally just told him i needed space and he showed his true colors. bc this whole time again. i’m in college and studying in health sciences like it was a lot.

he said the NASTIEST things to me but i didn’t respond. i was finally able to talk to him like a year later and he still hadnt moved on. still wanted to know if i wanted to get back together. told me had a spiral downwards and was getting shit faced and hooking up with girls and i was like …..no way in HELL dude.

aNYWAYS. we are healing and moving onwards but damn it was hard

BABY GIRL HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!! YOU WAS IN THE MF TRENCHES, BABY!!!

may I start out by saying that I am so sorry. what an epic piece of shit he is!! and I will not label you as anything or him as anything at all, but that is obviously a problematic age difference and a reflection of him!

he sounds like a walking red flag and I am SO happy you're outta there, bestie!! that is a radical form of self-love!! you are MUCH better off without him!!

THANK GOD you didn't get engaged and THANK GOD he's a weasel of a man and you didn't get back together with him!!

I'm celebrating you now for being strong enough to do that!! that must have been ridiculously hard!!

[joenicassio]

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[satyajitsenapati]

Set up to Fail Syndrome: How you Boss can derail you from your track | Satyajit Senapati

It is always said that your career is in your hands - all of it, the good and the bad. You have to progress with responsibility. But in this whole career journey, there is a critical stakeholder for your career, and that is your boss. The relationship with your boss can be complex—sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s not so good.

In this article, we will discuss a unique aspect of this love-hate relationship known as Set Up to Fail Syndrome. Let’s get into the details.

What is Set Up to Fail Syndrome?

Set Up to Fail usually (but not always) happens when you join a new company or project, and you have a boss with whom you haven’t worked before. Initially, your relationship with your boss is positive or neutral, but as time progresses, something happens, and it starts to spiral downward. It reaches a point where revival is almost impossible, ending with either you getting out of the project or leaving the company. This situation is known as Set Up to Fail Syndrome.

The first time I heard about Set Up to Fail Syndrome was from a paper published way back in 1998 by Manzoni and Barsoux, where they explained this syndrome in detail. This is a self-fulfilling phenomenon where bad performance stems from the expectation of bad performance. Quite interesting. Let’s know in details how this happens:

The Downward Spiral

Believe it or not, the set-up-to-fail syndrome can take root as early as when you have freshly joined the company. Here’s how it can manifest:

1. The Start of the Relationship

When you join a new company or project, you naturally start on a positive or neutral note. But then, a small event occurs—a missed deadline or a report that doesn’t meet expectations. Because you are new to the organization or project, you may not be tuned to the ways of working at the new company. This minor incident causes your boss to perceive you as a low performer, and they start expecting consistent low performance from you.

2. Increased Supervision and Criticism

After this event, your boss increases supervision and becomes more critical of your activities and outputs. They may become formal and start giving you mundane, mechanical tasks, all while being very vocal about your supposed poor performance and the need for constant supervision. This situation can have a significant negative impact on the employee.

3. The Negative Impact

You start to feel that you are not up to the mark, and your confidence begins to wane. Over time, this lack of confidence affects your work across assignments, leading to a mental check-out from the project. You may even start avoiding your boss, fearing further criticism. In this setup, the boss may even exclude you from important meetings, creating a sort of trap where you have little chance of success.

What Are The Consequences?

As a consequence of this, most employees mentally check out. What happens when you do so?

You stop caring about your job and the company

Your work quality goes down, and you make more mistakes

You don't put in effort and miss deadlines

Your boss notices you're not engaged and may let you go

It's hard to get back on track once you've mentally checked out

You could lose your job if you keep up the bad attitude

When an employee mentally checks out, it becomes increasingly difficult to recover. At some point, the boss may decide that you no longer fit into the project or company, leading to your exit. This is a very dangerous situation and is extremely difficult to come back from.

Responding to the Situation

So, how should you respond if you find yourself in such a setup? Here are some tips that may help you evaluate and navigate the Set Up to Fail Syndrome:

Recognise the Mindset: Accept that your boss may have a mindset that you are a low performer. This is a crucial first step.

Seek Support: Talk to trusted colleagues who may have experienced similar situations with the boss. This will help you understand that the issue may not be with you but with the boss’s mindset.

Open Communication: If you want to continue in the role, try to have an open conversation with your boss. Discuss what is not working and see if there is a way to rebuild trust.

A Word of Caution

While these steps might help, it is important to note that it is almost impossible to make a comeback from a Set Up to Fail Syndrome. It’s a very complicated situation, and developing the right perspective in your career can help you avoid spiraling into such a scenario.

Conclusion

In conclusion, maintaining a healthy relationship with your boss is critical. Be aware of the potential pitfalls of the Set Up to Fail Syndrome, and take proactive steps to ensure your career remains on the right track.

If you found this content valuable, please like, share, and subscribe. And if you have any specific topics you’d like me to cover, drop them in the comments. I’ll make a video and share it with you. Thank you so much for watching!

About Author

Satyajit Senapati is a best-selling Author, Tedx & Public Speaker and Mentor. He has 2 decades of management consulting and corporate strategy experience in leading organizations such as Deloitte, KPMG, Jio, Novartis etc. He holds an MBA from IIM Lucknow. For more information explore

Website: www.satyajitsenapati.com

Insta: https://www.instagram.com/iamsatyajits

LinkedIn: / satyajit-senapati

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@satyajitsenapatiauthor

[dollycas]

Special Guest - Michael Rands - One of the Authors of Crime & Culpability: A Jane Austen Mystery Anthology #AuthorGuestPost #Giveaway - Great Escapes Book Tour

Crime & Culpability: A Jane Austen Mystery Anthology by Regina Jeffers, Riana Everly, Jeanette Watts, Michael Rands, Linne Elizabeth, Emma Dalgety, and Elizabeth Gilliland I am delighted to welcome Michael Rands to Escape With Dollycas today! What is Noir? by Michael Rands This was the question at the heart of a seminar I took in grad school. This class proved to be one of the most enjoyable and memorable, not least because I would frequently sit next to my then crush, now wife. As the old saying goes: Couples who bond over Noir, bond for life. But really what is noir? It is one of the easiest and most difficult genres to define. Easy, because, well, you know when you’re watching film noir. Difficult, because you would have a hard time explaining why you know this. Comedy, you laugh. Romance, you swoon as two people fall in love. Horror is… horrifying. Noir? There’s a guy in a coat and a hat, a seductive woman with evil intentions, and a crime. It’s a rather bizarre definition, but it’s a start. Noir arose quite suddenly, with many of the most famous American noir films shot within a few years, and almost all shot within a decade. Several of the classics were shot during or just after the Second World War: The Maltese Falcon (1941), Double Indemnity (1944), The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946). A real darkness permeates these films. Shot in black and white, the images are shadowy, nightmarish. The characters inhabit a dark world. The most famous stock character associated with this genre is the femme fatale—a deadly woman who uses her sexuality to lure men into sin and destruction. The villainous men, it should be noted, seldom require much persuasion. In Double Indemnity (a candidate for the noiriest of noir films) Phyllis Dietrichson, convinces the insurance salesman Walter Neff, to help her kill her husband after she takes out a policy on his life. The story (like many other in the genre) is filled with betrayal, murder, doomed sexual liaisons, and downward spirals that end in the destruction of all the schemers. The world is dark. The characters are dark. The story circles around the sinkhole of nihilism, and yet there is some form of justice. This justice however seldom comes at the hand of a redeemer, a white knight. Instead, the perpetrators of the crimes tend to implode under the weight of their own misdeeds. Agents of order are often as morally dubious as the villains they pursue. Detective Sam Spade of The Maltese Falcon, played by Humphrey Bogart, is the quintessential example of such a man. He smokes, drinks heavily, engages in intimidation and violence. He’s gruff and nasty. He is at least a partial influence for the many troubled detectives we’ve come to love in books and on screen. Spade, like most characters in the “noir-verse” began in the pages of a short novel. Dashiel Hammet (Spade’s creator), along with James Cain and Raymond Chandler, pioneered the genre of Hardboiled Detective Fiction a decade or so before the boom in noir films. Their stories and characters provided the blueprints for most of the classic films, with Chandler additionally writing many famous screenplays. All this is to say that noir, one of the most visually distinctive film genres, has its roots in fiction, in the written word. The city of Los Angeles plays an important role in the Noirosphere. Of course, the early films were shot in the city, but many of the most influential writers including the three mentioned above, spent some time in L.A. Contemporary Neo-noir writers like Walter Mosley have set their stories there too, perhaps in homage to these early pioneers. Despite the short duration of the original crop of noir, the genre has had an outsized influence on film and literature. Every hard drinking detective, femme fatale, and nihilistic double-crosser, owes at least some noirish debt. Writers as un-obviously noirish as Cormac MacCarthy have dipped their toes in noir-blood, and celebrated directors like Quentin Tarantino and the Coen Brothers are openly influenced by the genre. I’m sure it’s obvious to see how Jane Austen fits into all of this.  Born and raised in Los Angeles, the daughter of a private detective and a failed insurance salesman… But no, there is some logic. For one, we’re writing about Jane Austen and Crime. And, if it’s not obvious yet, I am an unapologetic fan of this shady genre. Austen’s famously adaptable characters have taken on countless lives across time, space and genre, and I could not but help see them putting on their noir-garb, and heading out to L.A. Mr. Wickham, the shady, manipulative, semi-criminal womanizer, was all but begging to be cast in a noir retelling of his story. Lydia Bennet, a few years older, jaded and hardened from her earlier experiences hanging out with a sociopath and his rough friends, might find herself noirified, too. As for Lizzie Bennet and Mr. Darcy, I tread carefully, for fear of making enemies. But, there is a place for them. I hope you’ll take a chance on this and see how it all fits together. Thank you! Thank you, Michael, for visiting today with a great topic! _____ Keep reading to learn more about Michael and Crime & Culpability. About Crime & Culpability Crime & Culpability: A Jane Austen Mystery Anthology Cozy Mystery Anthology Settings -  (Regency England, modern-day America) Publisher ‏ : ‎ Bayou Wolf Press (September 10, 2024) Print length ‏ : ‎ 176 pages Digital ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0D6JQN6JL "No one can withstand the charm of such a mystery." - Jane Austen, Persuasion Jane Austen mysteries have become a popular subgenre of Austen variations, but this is more than just a trend. Austen was a masterful storyteller who embedded clues within her stories for her readers to follow, inviting readers to read between the lines and "gather the evidence" to follow her intricate plotlines. In this anthology, various authors who are also fans and admirers of Austen's work have taken the challenge to add some mystery to Austen's stories and characters. From Regency sequels to film noir retellings to cozy art heists, Crime and Culpability: A Jane Austen Mystery Anthology explores the many faces of Austen and all of her enigmas. Featuring stories by Regina Jeffers, Riana Everly, Jeanette Watts, Michael Rands, Linne Elizabeth, Emma Dalgety, and Elizabeth Gilliland, with a foreword by Regina Jeffers and an introduction by Elizabeth Gilliland Rands. About the Authors Elizabeth Gilliland: Elizabeth Gilliland is the author of the Austen University Mysteries series, including What Happened on Box Hill, The Portraits of Pemberley, and two prequel novellas, Dear Prudent Elinor and Sly Jane Fairfax. (Look out for book three sometime next year!) She has written and presented at various academic confer‐ ences on Jane Austen and wrote her dissertation on Jane Austen adaptations, dedicating herself to watch the lake dive scene as many times as necessary for scholarly pursuit. She also writes Gothic horror as E. Gilliland and romance as Lissa Sharpe, and she is the co-founder of Bayou Wolf Press. Author Links Website    Twitter (X)   Facebook    Goodreads   Blog    Newsletter   Amazon   Regina Jeffers - Regina Jeffers writes books about corsets, rakes, daring heroines, dashing heroes and all aspects of the Georgian/Regency era. She is an award winning author of cozy mysteries, historical romantic suspense, and Austenesque vagaries. Jeffers has been a Smithsonian presenter and Martha Holden Jennings Scholar, as well as having her tales honored by, among others, the Daphne du Maurier Award for Excellence in Mystery/Suspense, the Frank Yerby Award for Fiction, the International Digital Awards, and the Chanticleer International Book Award. Author Links:  Every Woman Dreams (Blog)   Always Austen (Group Blog)    Facebook    Twitter    Amazon Author Page   Pinterest   BookBub   Instagram   Regina Jeffers Website  Riana Everly: Riana Everly is an award-winning Canadian author of Austenesque fiction, both Regency and contemporary. Her historical mystery series, Miss Mary Investigates, has quickly become a favourite of Jane Austen fans and cosy mystery fans alike. Trained as a classical musician, she also has advanced degrees in Medieval Studies, and pretended to be an academic before discovering that fiction doesn’t need footnotes. She loves travelling, cooking her way around the world, playing with photography, and discussing obscure details with her husband and children. Possibly in Latin. She can be found in the usual places and loves connecting with readers, so please give her a shout! Author Links: Newsletter   Website   Facebook    Instagram  Amazon Jeanette Watts: Jeanette Watts is a dance instructor, writer, seamstress, actress, and very, very poor housekeeper. With books on historical fiction, modern romantic comedy, LGBTQ romance, Jane Austen-inspired stories, and she is contemplating writing steamier works, what do all these genres have in common? Jeanette writes about people with a secret. Secrets are fun. Keep up with the various parts of Jeanette's brain at her YouTube Channel, “History is My Playground,” and her webpages, Jeanette‐ Watts.squarespace.com and DancingThruHistory.com. Author Links Instagram     Facebook     Twitter      Linked In      Website 1     Website 2     Goodreads     Jeanette_Watts Amazon Author Page Michael Rands: Michael Rands is the author of the novels The Chapel St. Perilous and Praise Routine Number Four, co-author of the economic satire The Yamaguchi Manuscripts, and Kamikaze Economics (a story of modern Japan). He’s co-author of the humorous dictionary Stay Away from Mthatha. He co-created the audio drama The Crystal Set and co- hosted the podcast Detours Ahead. In South Africa he worked in television as a writer, director and producer. He taught English in Japan. He holds an MFA from Louisiana State University, and currently teaches English and Creative Writing at the college level. He is the co-founder of Bayou Wolf Press. He lives with his wife, son, and labrador, in Alabama. His new novel, When the Witch Calls, comes out in November 2024. Author Links Facebook    Twitter    Instagram    Blog Linné Elizabeth: Linné Elizabeth is an English instructor at Utah Tech University, a freelance content writer, and an award-winning author. When she's not devouring chocolate while nose-deep in a book, you can find her playing in the russet desert of southern Utah with her four incredible - sometimes feral - kids and her handsome husband. Check her out on Instagram: @library4one or on Facebook: @linneelizabeth  Author Links Website   Instagram: @Library4One   LinkedIn    Facebook    Blog Emma Dalgety: Emma Dalgety grew up in Mobile, Alabama. She received a BA in Music and English from the University of Mobile in 2023. As a musi‐ cian and a writer, she has performed violin across the Southeast and internationally, finding creative inspiration and filling notebooks with story fragments throughout her travels. When she isn't writing, she is researching interdisciplinary connections in literature as she works towards an MA in English, or teaching music lessons in her private studio. 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[queenoffantasyland]

So about whatshisname…

First off, I will admit this is kind of an intense overshare to just dump onto Tumblr, but I’m a millennial with a lot of emotions and this is what we do. In order to protect a semblance of anonymity, I have changed names and kept locations vague. But I am pouring this all into a Google Doc because I have still been processing how in less than a year a person went from a mild acquaintance to one of the most important people in my life and then it only took another year for him to become somebody that I used to know. They say hindsight is 20/20, but it still feels like I can see the traffic light but the blurred sunbursts of colored lights obscure the path ahead of me necessitating another lens to see things clearly.

So as the dulcet tones of Julie Andrews remind me: the beginning is a very good place to start. Being social has not been my strong suit. From about 2nd grade to my early 20s I straight-up didn’t have friends. On multiple occasions I was told I was “too much” and between repeated rejection from friendships, a cross-country move, and 4 middle schools later I understood that there were people that would allow me to sit at their table for lunch but did not want to engage with me socially once the final bell rang. No sleepovers, no birthday parties, no “let’s go to the movies and then get Taco Bell.” Likewise, if making friends was this unattainable– dating or flirting with guys in my teen years was completely off the table. But I had given myself the hope that I just needed to move back to California and go to college, where I’d find my sitcom-like circle of friends and the perfect guy and be happy.

College at first gave me hope but it was very clear, very soon, that I was the seventh wheel in the group. I had social engagements that I went to now but I was only included as the roommate of the effervescent Vocal Performance major that could flirt with the best of ‘em. Fortunately, my roommate's shitty boyfriend went to church with Daphne, who ran in different social circles but also liked talking about pop culture and wasn’t put off by the intensity of receiving a Powerpoint of TV recommendations. We stayed “periodically texting each other” friends even as I left the university I was attending. Being away from family and in an environment where my worst impulses were fully unregulated, and my deep loneliness had not been solved by leaving my small town prompted my mental health to spiral downward. So my parents had me transfer to a college on the East Coast to live with my sister as a hail mary attempt getting me to fit the plan every boomer parent sets out for their daughter: focus on your grades, go to college, meet someone to marry, get a good job, get a house, etc. It was at this new college that I entered a deep depression that was truly the darkest time of my life. It became clear that higher education was not for me, and I moved back to California to live with my parents and work full-time.

The only thing keeping me from my darkest thoughts and helping me hold on during this period was finding my people in online fandom communities. Finding other women out there who thought about fictional characters as often and as in-depth as me was a lifeline. I found people just as moved by the power of stories and a good romance. We were of varying ages and lived in various time zones, but we were kindred spirits. People who didn’t just tolerate me talking about Felicity Smoak or Elizabeth Swann for hours on end, but found enjoyment from it. People who didn’t think I was “too intense” for saying that our friendship meant so much to me a few weeks into knowing each other. It was in this safe space, that I brought Daphne,my one sorta-kinda friend from college, into fandom and bonded to where she is now one of my very best friends. To this day, I have women that I meant through tumblr or Twitter that are my lifeline that make all the out-of-pocket nonsense that fandom brings worth it.

Now I have friends for the first time since I was ten. Awesome! Shouldn't I be dating though too? I should’ve had a kiss that was not a part of a high school play with a closted gay kid by now, right? And even that kiss I had to be the initiator. That’s what women in their early 20s do. Get on those apps, go on dates, have some epic first love or a string of comically regrettable boyfriends to laugh about when you are older. I guess. So I hop onto OkCupid and play the swiping game during my breaks at my mall retail job, and find a guy that is Christian, into movies, and cute enough. We message for about a week and he says we should go on a date: a movie and dinner. I’m about to get my “has gone on an actual date and isn’t a prudish spinster” badge! I drive an hour to a strip mall by where he lives and we see The Big Short and eat overpriced burgers at a nearby gastropub. It’s all going perfect. He walks me to my car after dinner and when I think he’s going in for a hug he kisses me. My cheeks are inflamed with an immediate blush. He’s going in for a second kiss, but I have no idea what to do so I hug him and give a cute little wave as I flee into my car to drive to Daphne’s apartment to freak out over the whole thing over a cup of Coldstone. This should be magical, right? Why does the feeling of his lips on mine feel about the same as the high school theater kiss? I wrote it off in my head that I wasn’t expecting the kiss and that’s why it had no spark. Fast forward to the end of the second date, watching Creed and dinner at PF Chang’s, that I realized while this guy was nice enough I wasn’t actually interested in him. I was interested in fitting in and not being the weirdo that’s never had a guy kiss them even into my twenties. Neither of those things are reason enough to keep dating a guy that is essentially a prop in my coming-of-age checklist, so I texted him that I didn’t think things were going to work out for a third date. After those two dates, I put dating on the backburner and prioritized other aspects of my life: mental health, repairing family relationships, trying to achieve a semblance of financial independence, etc. Granted there were enough fictional or celebrity crushes over the years that in addition to the purchase of my first vibrator, did confirm that I was indeed attracted to guys; but dating was never a focus.

So in building my career and being closer to family, I move back to Texas in fall of 2017 and start a new job. This is where I meet Jared. To paint a picture,my sports-averse self was attracted to him even when he was discussing football. One of my fandom friends asked if there were cute guys at the new job that caught my fancy, to which I replied “The only dude remotely attractive is my freaking trainer and that’s not an option.” Since I’ve valued building a reputation of professionalism, his role as a trainer and later to a manager precluded any of that initial attraction from growing into anything else (as if I could flirt or be confident to act on it at the time but that’s not the point). I packed those butterflies into a box and shoved that box into the attic– to the point that I’d forget that box existed. There was the time when he was back in my department and noted that he saw my Bumble profile, didn’t swipe right because he didn’t want to cross those lines, but commented that I have a nice profile. His respectfulness and professionalism mixed with a bit of a compliment made me remember that box of butterflies in the attic, and then promptly shoved it back in the rafters. Reign it in, girl.

Fast forward a few years and he’s back in the department I work in again as an interim while they look for a new person to fill the manager role. I’m in the interview process to potentially get that role, which means I can relax a little in my current position and not be laser-focused on making sales every second I’m at work and actually talk to people. It’s at this time that one of my coworkers gives me the 411 on Jared. You know those coworkers who have the magical ability to get everyone they talk to to divulge their entire life story? This was her. So it’s at this time that I learn that he’s a lot closer to my age than I thought he was, that he also had family in church leadership like me, we both like nerdy pop culture shit, and that he’s tired of “dating around” and “wants to find a wife”. Keep in mind that the company where I work is kinda weird in how they sorta encourage people to date, married couples to both work there, etc. With all this in mind, I decided to take my mind off of the job interview I did for the manager role by chatting with Jared. As we both look out the window I comment on the sunset, and he responds with an anecdote of how during the last time he worked in this department he’d take a picture of the sunset every evening and send it to his girlfriend at the time “This sunset is almost as beautiful as you.” Externally, I tease him about how corny but smooth that line is. Inside, I’m melting. It’s such a sweet little romantic gesture that I have never gotten to experience, I’ve just read it in fanfic. I excuse myself to go cry in the bathroom as the realization of just how much I’d love to experience something like that, and potentially experience that with Jared. And thus the rafters give way, the box falls down from the attic and breaks open to release those 4 year old butterflies.

So I got the manager job the next day, and have about 2 weeks before I start my new role giving me very little to do at work except chat with Jared on the days we are scheduled together. He gives me his phone number in case I need his help as I adjust to the new role. After a few strictly work related texts, an actual friendship begins to form as text conversations stray to movie trailer reactions and other light but fun topics. He finds reasons to pop by my department’s office to say hi even though we work nowhere near each other. It is in one of those chats that we talk and I see that his smile doesn’t reach his eyes, his normal charismatic and jovial demeanor is dimmed in a way that only someone also good at veiling sadness with a happy face can tell. The middle of shift is not the time or place to call him out on it, but that evening I texted Jared to check in and let him know I am here for him for more than reacting to the latest episode of Moon Knight. He opens up to me about things he’s been struggling with and we proceed to have a text conversation for the next four and a half hours– topics ranging from mental health struggles and past traumas to the “three fictional characters to describe me” meme and comedians we enjoyed.It was definitely a turning point, where I truly felt we were getting to know each other and really connect. The fact that my deepest friendships were made in text conversations or DMs on Twitter made it easy for me to open up and be my most authentic self. And as these Sunday night text conversations continued, I knew that my crush was moving beyond infatuation.

At the end of that summer, I went on vacation: a day at Disneyland and then a girls’ trip in Lake Tahoe with some of my closest friends made through the Olicity fandom. I was in my favorite place in the entire world, and I still couldn’t stop thinking of him. In the hundreds of times I've been to Disneyland I’ve looked at the couples holding hands, wearing coordinating outfits, or kissing during World of Color and wistfully thought “One day.” And now as I walked through the Happiest Place on Earth, I couldn’t help but think of what it would be like to share it with Jared. I wasn’t able to help myself from texting throughout the day sharing pics of Avengers Campus and Galaxy’s Edge. At the end of the day, I saw a Chewbacca pen in one of the shops on Main Street USA and just had to buy it for him. I gave a teaser text with the gift and he freaked out a little that I’d get him something because apparently he’s extraordinarily bad at receiving gifts which I just found even more endearing. Once in Tahoe, I had the opportunity to catch my ladies up with the whole situation. They totally shipped us and encouraged me to be bold and make a move– sometimes guys are dumb and you have to say you like them with a neon sign. I thought my particular brand of nerd flirting was not that subtle. I mean in the “three fictional characters to describe me” meme discussion I told him he was a mixture of Nick Miller, Han Solo, and Andrew Garfield Spider-Man, but I trusted my friends that were either married or had a serious boyfriend since this all was still very much uncharted waters for me. So while I knew I needed to be bold I wanted to invite him to a group setting where we could spend more time together outside of work before going on an outright date. When I got back from the girls’ trip, I invited him to my family’s Labor Day barbecue where he would basically meet my whole family and some of my sister’s friends from church to keep the whole thing still fairly lowkey. He was super stoked at the invite, since living hours away from family is rough on big holidays. He was a perfect gentleman and offered to pick me up to drive to my parents’ house together and offered to bring a bottle of wine to be a good guest. I informed neither me or my family drink (this will come up later) but that his presence was a gift unto itself. Before we walked into my parents’ house, I gave him the Chewbacca pen I got for him at Disneyland. His delighted laughter made my impulse buy totally worth it.

It was an amazing day. Good food, lots of laughter, and he fit in with my family so well. I had even warned my crazy aunt that I was bringing a guy that I was just friends with and to please be chill in hopes things could one day be more. Even she was on her best behavior, which made my mom joke if I could bring him every major holiday. It went literally perfectly. When it was time for him to go I had him drive me back to my apartment, even though as soon as he left I got in my car to go back to my parent’s house to gush about him with my mom and sister. Everyone loved him. He even texted a nice thank you for inviting him and that my family was so welcoming and he had a great time. I made the (only kind of a) joke with him about me separating my work and personal personas by being Maddison at work and Maddie with those who know and care about me, and that I enjoyed getting to be Maddie with him for a full day. To which he replied, he can see the difference and he really liked getting to know Maddie (with a blushing emoji at the end). At that point, I was far past a crush and this was becoming real feelings.

The following week, I was scrolling through Instagram and I got an ad for a string quartet concert playing movie scores from SciFi and Fantasy films being played in a candlelit venue. This was it. I literally couldn’t imagine a better first date for us. I talked about it with my friend in LA and she mentioned that these events sell out quickly so I should go ahead and get the tickets since they were relatively inexpensive. So with tickets already bought and after drafting the invite text and focus grouping it with like 8 different women to make sure I had the right levels of flirty but casual, I sent him an invite to the concert. He had the valid excuse of family being in town but in a second text asked if there were other dates. So hope was not lost yet at this point. I texted him the other dates but left the ball in his court. No word on the concert, but then he came over to my apartment to binge watch Andor. I ordered his favorite red velvet cake on DoorDash and as coached by my married friends I made the effort to gradually sit close together on the couch as each episode moved along. I distinctly remember being so frustrated that I couldn’t skip over the feelings confession part so we could just fast forward to cuddling on the couch watching this show because it just felt so right. Another night he texts me out of the blue that he’s taking stock of what’s good in his life and getting to know me and become friends with me is one of the best parts of his year. The happy tears come and it takes everything in me to not gush about how important he is to me and how much I care about him. We’re getting closer to the breaking point of my chill.

Shortly thereafter, our workplace is throwing this big annual party. My social battery was running low, so I left pretty early but as is our Sunday night tradition at this point I still text Jared before going to bed. He says the party was fun until it wasn't. His heart took a beating, but he’ll survive… he always does. I had never heard him sound this defeated and hurt before. My emotions are bubbling to the surface, but I have the good sense to text Daphne since she’s on the west coast time zone to figure out how to respond. I send her a truly embarrassing voice note of me sobbing and talking about how I hurt when he hurts and want to tell him how much I care about him and how he deserves so much better than people who would treat him poorly. And before I could truly embarrass myself and text all of this to him, Daphne tells me “Bitch, it’s 1am. Go to bed.” In the sanity of the morning, I can send a much more reserved “I’m so sorry. Sending hugs.” text instead of a geyser of emotion at, in hindsight, the worst timing possible. Things fall back into their rhythm, until one day I am in my car on my lunch break with my music library on shuffle and “Wrapped in Red” by Kelly Clarkson comes on. It’s October so arguably too soon for Christmas music, but I let it play because 1) that song is a bop and 2) the lyrics really start hitting.

I’ll never feel you

If I don’t tell you

This Christmas, I’m gonna risk it all

This Christmas, I’m not afraid to fall

So I’m at your door with nothing more

Than words I’ve never said

It’s at this point that I realize I am well past the point where I need to tell Jared how I feel so we both know where we stand. It’s no longer healthy for me to keep harboring these feelings to myself, and the next time there’s an emotional conversation I won’t have the restraint to keep it to myself. However, I don’t want to have this conversation at work and this is too big to have over text message even though that’d be infinitely easier. So conveniently another Marvel movie is coming out in theaters the following week. I ask him to the movie with a hint of flirtation but with platonic plausible deniability. He says yes. I get a little bolder and ask him to dinner beforehand, which he agrees and offers to pick me up from my apartment. Another good sign. One week, dozens of text conversations with friends talking through all the possibilities, and a hundred anxiety spirals later, and Monday night comes around. My outfit was meticulously planned– casual and in character with what I wear normally but the turtleneck has a cleavage cutout to bring a tasteful amount of “va va voom” . We keep mostly to small talk on the ride to the restaurant, and once we are seated the conversation deepens. I mention my limited dating history and get into topics previously mentioned in this essay. Jared opens up and reveals he was in a relationship that ended a few months ago abruptly with his girlfriend cheating on him with his close friend at the time. My heart sinks. I’m hurt he had to go through that, but I also know the result of the conversation I was planning for the car ride home is not going to have the result I want it to have. Fortunately, Wakanda Forever gave me plenty of excuses to cry in the theater. Regardless, the conversation still needs to be had so I start with confirming that the invite to the concert was me asking him out, and from there it all spills forth. The crush and friendship that developed to infatuation, that developed to real feelings, that I could see us being compatible and really working together, that he had everything I was looking for in a partner with the added bonus of majestic hair and being taller than me. I continued that even though he’s been dealing with a lot, it’s still my choice if I want to be there alongside him to shoulder those burdens. We are now pulled into the parking garage for my apartment. He reiterates that he is still processing all that he’s had to go through this year and that (this is a direct quote still seared into my soul) “if there’s a 5% chance that my baggage and what I’m going through could hurt you, I can’t take that risk.” I am doing all that I can not to burst into tears, and so to lighten the mood I say “Don’t read into the fact I got you a Christmas present, Etsy doesn’t do returns.” Which is a silly way to say I’ve been so head over heels for you I bought your Christmas present in fucking August, but I digress. He opens the car door, gives me a hug, and the thought isn’t lost on me that the first time I touch him is an ending not a beginning. And thus began my first true heartbreak.

Naturally, the following days made things worse somehow. I woke up feeling miserable and aching all over. At first I thought it was just a physical manifestation of my emotional turmoil, and forced myself to get out of bed with a pep talk of “You are a freaking professional and you’re not going to call out of work because a boy made you sad. Take a hot bath and pull yourself together.” Then after I proceeded to projectile vomit in the bathtub, I realized I actually had some kind of flu and did actually need to stay home. So I slept through most of Tuesday but was crying for most of the time I was awake. Of course this meant Wednesday was when I started my period, because adding period symptoms on to all of this is exactly what I need. Thus in a moment where I curled up on the floor, nose bleeding from blowing my nose too much, still crying, headache from all the crying, aches everywhere from the flu and Aunt Flo, and wallowing in self-pity that I got a little messy and made a “fishing for attention” post on my Close Friends instagram story. Just a quick slide with text about how I was sick of being sick and sick of crying all the fucking time. I’m not going to lie, I was (admittedly irrationally) irritated that I was feeling this miserable and he’s just getting to have a Wednesday. Lo and behold, I get a text from Jared: “Saw your IG story. How can I help?” – a level of obliviousness which nearly made me throw my phone across the room. At this point, I knew subtlety was not an option. I acknowledged that I had to stop reading between the lines and that he saw me as just a friend and that broke my heart–something I needed to process and he couldn’t help with.

I want to stress that I did not then nor do I now begrudge him for not returning romantic feelings towards me. He was not obligated to feel the same way. However, the bordering on overshare of feelings that I expressed made things abundantly clear where I stood on things and anything said or done at this point was regarded considering that mutual knowledge.

So here’s where the mixed signals began. He responds that he currently sees me as a friend and also he wasn’t ready for a relationship yet. Would he maybe see me differently when he is ready for a relationship? Who knows, it’s possible. And then some more stuff about how he’s sorry he caused me pain, blah blah blah. But my deluded hopeless romantic self still took the dangled maybe of who knows what will happen in the future and ran with it. “This is us at just six months of friendship, stay friends with him and we can be even closer once he heals from his cheating whore of an ex. Maybe if you get back on the bandwagon and lose weight you’ll look more like the girls he usually dates when he’s ready. This is all just bad timing, but maybe your story together isn’t done yet.” The last sentence was the only part of that spiral that was true. This is just a story that doesn’t have the original happy ending anticipated.

Meanwhile, our work Christmas party comes along and I have him pick me up because I’m a passenger princess who doesn’t like to drive outside of my 10 mile bubble but also to still keep the spark going and see where our friendship is at now. It’s a fun night of games and getting to know some of the other managers. There’s a solid group of friends in a similar age range as me that are actually really fun to hang out with. On the ride home, Jared talks about how it’s fun to see me come out of my shell and some of the others get to see me be “not as innocent as I appear”. He also talks about how the group of managers usually hang out on Sunday nights after work and that he’ll talk to the group to see if they’re cool with me joining the next time they go out. I’m honestly so excited at the prospect of a group of friends, I forget to spiral (at least until much later) about how that means our usual 9pm-1am Sunday night text convos must have been when he was out at a bar with friends and all that that implies.

Christmas comes along and he appreciates the thoughtful present I gave him of a coaster laser engraved with the design of his favorite football stadium and a homemade rice krispie treat. And since I gave him the heads up towards the end of Car Ride of Pain that I was getting him something, he had texted me earlier in December that after the hardest time searching he found the perfect present. On Christmas Eve, he shows up at my department on his day of PTO to give me my present. My coworkers are nosy so I wait until my lunch break to open it, which was smart because I teared up when I opened it. And it’s so thoughtful and sweet that I would’ve LOVED this gift as the first Christmas present from a boyfriend. I still love the gift but I’m also confused. So were my Twitter friends.

After Christmas I started hanging out with the group of managers and they were super chill and really welcoming. Towards the latter part of our first hang out there’s the round table topic of “what celebrity would want to have sex with? Man and woman.” One of the guys was debating between Henry Cavill and Jason Momoa and ended up picking Momoa. I joked “Solid pick. Momoa has more grabbable hair.” Jared and his stupid long hair turns to me and loudly says “Hmmmm. I’m learning some things about you.” I go red and my brain short circuits and I can’t think of a response beyond “Yep.” so that’s how I respond and leave it at that. AND THEN, he brings the topic back up after the “Made it home safe?” text, saying that he’s still thinking about my comment on grabbable hair. I quickly respond “So we’re going there?” trying to clarify what we are doing because this is decidedly not platonic. To which he replies, “I guess we are.” This time I did throw my phone across the room. Luckily, it landed in a to-be-folded pile of laundry. I typed and retyped a reply five times. Once my west coast friends got back to me that my idea to respond with “Everyone likes a hair grab. Why do you think I wear a high ponytail so often?” was too dirty, I decided to leave him “on read” and go to bed.

Meanwhile we still have long text conversations with serious topics like being broke af, and silly things like memes about Formula One racing (which I admittedly did get into to impress him but still legitimately enjoy it and have another friend to talk about it with). But now mixed with weirdly flirty stuff like “With the length of my hair right now, I look like Loki in Thor: Ragnarok when I get out of the shower”. Nerd flirting, but definitely flirting. Especially when I have admitted in a conversation when out with friends that I’ve read Tom Hiddleston/Reader fanfiction.

Then one day, I have a truly shitty and overwhelmingly stressful day at work. My parents were on vacation and my sister was on a work trip, so even after everything he was still next in line for who I wanted to talk to to process this. He talked me through the issue and how to best cope with it and then the conversation strayed. It was the first time since Car Ride of Pain that we actually acknowledged what was discussed. He was curious why I spoke to my feelings then. I discussed the times I wanted to bring it up earlier and he confirmed it was for the best that I did not then (especially the night of the big work party). He gave me advice about flirting on apps like Hinge and Bumble, it was kinda weird but I could use all the advice I could get. And then he offered another piece of “friendly advice”. To paraphrase, he recommended that I reconsider my decision not to drink alcohol and make sure I am doing it for me and not because of my upbringing; because guys on dates will worry that I don’t know how to relax and be loose around them if I do not have at least one drink on a date. He even admitted that he thought about what it would be like to date me but the fact that neither me or my family drinks was a problem because he could not see our lifestyles being compatible. Admittedly, my family does not drink for religious reasons. However, when I was old enough I knew I did not want to drink alcohol because of my poor impulse control regarding food and drink (even if that drink is Diet Dr Pepper). When I got to a restaurant, I don’t have a soda, I have seven. Consequently, I made the decision to not even open the door to drinking alcohol.

However, in a series of decisions I am embarrassed and genuinely not proud of, I took his words to heart and decided to experiment with alcohol. I framed it as wanting to build some confidence before I put myself back out there in the dating world, but really I wanted to show that I was fun and cool, and could live in his world. Had some spiked Simply Lemonade to test the waters which was not great but fine. Daphne recommended a rum and coke as a starter drink but when I tried it at home it was so gross that I had to brush my teeth three times after. And then when my friend group went out to our usual bar on Sunday night, I ordered the fruity drink the 22 year old in the group usually orders and inhaled it in about thirty seconds. So I got another. Trying to see what the buzz was really like, when really the biggest rush was the pleased look on his face when I ordered the second drink. In reality, alcohol just makes me sleepy (and want to cuddle but not exactly the venue for that). There was another work party that was BYOB and I brought some fruity Seagrams and when my boss commented this was the first of the parties that I drank at he joked that our friend group was corrupting me. Nearly a hundred bucks later, and the only thing close to a buzz was wanting to go to bed at 11pm one time, and I calculated that I didn’t actually enjoy alcohol at all. It finally dawned on me just how stupid drinking to impress a guy is, and just how terrible Jared’s advice was. That’s not the kind of advice you want from a potential romantic partner, and even more that’s not the kind of advice a good friend would give. In hindsight, I should’ve seen this straight away as a sign that this is not the kind of person to pursue nor the kind of person I should be friends with.

A while after the drinking debacle, Jared has been radio silent for a long time. When we interact at work on occasion, he’s noticeably distant and acting kind of weird. My instinct was telling me to reach out to him just to check that everything’s ok given his previous mental health struggles and also that he still has me (at this point in time) as a friend. Then he shows up to the Sunday night hangout for the first time in forever. A decent chunk of my friend group is chronically and comically late, so it’s me, Jared, and one of the managers with his girlfriend. Jared had stepped away for a phone call earlier in the evening for a while which was… weird, but I still ignored instincts. Then all of a sudden, I look in Jared’s direction and can’t help but see he has a picture of a girl on his lockscreen that is usually some car-related pic. At this point, I really thought I had fully moved on and was okay with being just friends. Even to the point that I was comfortable being frank with him in talking about the time period where I was halfway in love with him. But seeing the photo of the girl, and the fact that he never even dropped a text to make me aware he was dating somebody, made old wounds fresh again. I waved for the waitress to get my check and then it was a race against the clock to not start sobbing in the middle of this bar in front of my friends who know nothing about my history with Jared at this point. Literally as soon as I get my debit card back and sign the receipt, I walk as fast as I can without running to get out of my car and the tears come the instant I make it through the door. It really is a less than pleasant experience to finally be able to relate to Taylor Swift lyrics but he wasn't mine to lose and I really had been living the past several months for the hope of it all. And now that hope is shattered. He was ready to date again, and once again it was not me that he wanted. My romantic dream had always been that I would find someone that really got to know me, and would then decide that they wanted more of me in their life. Once again that did not happen. I opened myself to him in so many ways: the dark thoughts, the imperfections, my hyperfixations and the weird sense of humor that follows, and it was not a package he was interested in. So I cried and I cried that night and mourned the hope of what could have been because it wasn’t going to happen.

So let's see how being 1000% platonic friends with Jared goes. I’m at over 6,000 words in this saga and it’s 2am so I’m going to be more concise in this part. I get an awesome career opportunity to take more responsibility and have a chance to develop a team and demonstrate my leadership skills to senior management. My family and the majority of my friends were super excited for me. I explain the change to Jared and he goes “Huh. That’s an interesting choice.” And in that moment I couldn’t tell which hurt more: him not thinking that I’m going to be great at this and expressing that he’s excited for me or the fact that apparently I still value his opinion of me so damn much. Then it’s July and I’m making plans to celebrate my 30th birthday. In one of our many long text conversations, I had opened up to him about not have friends growing up and then even when I made friends they were long distance, so I was so excited to not just enjoy the festivities of a milestone birthday but be able to have a birthday with friends present that care about me and are happy to celebrate me. So I send the text to the group chat 3 weeks in advance (enough time to make plans around but not so far ahead people forget) with info for a birthday dinner at a nearby restaurant and then potentially seeing Barbie. I even made sure to schedule it after everyone’s shift would be over to ensure as many people as possible could come. Everyone begins to reply that they are coming, including Jared, and then two days later I get a “sorry I can’t go” text without further explanation. And from that point he basically dropped out of my life.

It was then the realization that I had avoided for a while hit. Some of my friends had said throughout all of this that he was putting me on a shelf but being nice enough about so he could always come back later when he needed the ego boost. I didn’t want to believe it and rationalized that couldn’t be the case because my long distance friends never met him and only knew half of the equation. But I now realize how right they were. Jared was going through a shitty time in his life when he got close to me, and in every conversation I complimented him.This made the pattern for him to talk to me when he was feeling down and my unconditional support and adoration made him feel better, and even after the feelings conversation that occurred in the Car Ride of Pain he could keep this pattern going with the tiniest bit of flirting. Then his life got better from the previous year, he’s no longer experiencing professional burnout and got himself a girlfriend again– making no need to go through the effort of maintaining a friendship with me.

So why write nearly 7000 words about this now? Well, it's definitely been a catharsis to be able to let this all out. But the catharsis was mainly needed, because I have been able to ignore all the hurt from July and the 18 months prior by simply not being around him and now I have a mandatory meeting where I see him once a week and have to act all cheery and professional.

On its own a birthday party does seem like a silly thing to end a friendship over, but it really was the straw that broke the camel’s back. It was now clear, especially after writing all of this out, that as much as I had thought about him, paid attention to every detail of every conversation, etc. that he did not hold our conversations and our friendship in a remotely similar level of regard. Plainly, I deserve better from people I consider a friend. But in order to heal from the end of a friendship, I have to acknowledge that this all happened and it was a very important part of my life for some time.

Now that it’s written down, he can be just a story. An anecdote to note the end of my twenties. He can be one of the managers that works on the first floor and is neighbors with my boss and one of my friends. That’s it and that’s okay.

The End

[gtunesmiff]

In my early twenties, I stumbled on The 48 Laws of Power by Robert Greene.

While it’s not technically a history book, it is as much a history of power and powerful people as it is a practical guide.

Few books are as readable and engaging—it is brilliantly structured and designed.

But I didn’t finish it.

Or, rather, I couldn’t finish it.

It made me anxious and paranoid, unable to approach day-to-day life without assuming everyone was out to manipulate me or take advantage.

Around the same time, I also discovered The Art of Possibility by Rosamund and Benjamin Zander.

I found its philosophical approach far more conducive to joy and happiness, but it has been criticized as a lot of positive-thinking nonsense.

Regardless, it imparts one of the most important lessons I’ve ever learned.

It succinctly expresses how we can easily slip into downward spirals:

“For the same reason that red Dodge pickups seem to proliferate on the highways as soon as you buy one and that pregnant women appear out of nowhere approximately eight months before your baby is due. The more attention you shine on a particular subject, the more evidence of it will grow. Attention is like light and air and water. Shine attention on obstacles and problems and they multiply lavishly.”

Ever since I figured that out, when I’m feeling bad, I reflect on where I’m focusing my attention, and why.

~ Jane Friedman || Electric Speed (9/2/23)