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wisteria-lodge · 3 years

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snake primary + snake secondary (bird model)

Hello! I recently discovered your blog and really love the thought you’ve put into the nuances of the SHC system. I’m super into these kinds of personality analysis systems (I’ve probably been through them all at this point) because I think it’s interesting to know how people tick - I also think self-awareness is important so that you know why you do what you do, essentially. I took the SHC quiz and it told me I was a Snake Primary with a Bird Model, and a Bird Secondary with a Snake Model. I agree that I’m probably a (somewhat petrified) Snake Primary with a strong Bird Model, but I’m not sure which is my true secondary and which is the model. Maybe you can help?

I can sure try :)

Some things about me: I’m an oldest daughter, and I’m almost 100% sure my dad is a Bird Snake and I *idolized* him as a child - I thought he had it all figured out. He was the Zeus to my Athena in my child’s eyes, and I think I got my Bird primary model very early from copying him.

I mean, I know what you mean in a “sole creator” sense, but there is no *way* Athena thought Zeus had it all figured out.

My two younger brothers are a Lion Snake and a Lion Badger, and my mother is possibly a Double Badger, though I’m not as sure about her - maybe she just thinks that she *should* be a Double Badger. I think all that is important to help illustrate that I didn’t really feel *at home* when I was with my family, though I loved them, since I was the only Snake. My parents also had a terrible relationship and are now divorced, so there’s that as well. I think the only time I have ever been truly morally outraged was the revelation that my dad had engaged in infidelity against my mom, and then again when he started dragging his feet over a promise the he had made my youngest brother. We didn’t speak for a long time after that incident, but I was really cut up over dropping him.

Oh yeah. That’s very Snake primary. Morally outraged because your People are getting hurt.

We eventually started to reconcile, and the only reason we did was because he called and said he was driving through my city one day, and even after all of that, I said yes to meeting up because I felt sad that I had dropped him. I think this family dynamic, plus some other childhood stuff, led to me sort of “checking out” and petrifying pretty early.

Just a theory - I think it’s possible that this hit your secondary more than it hit your primary. You seem pretty strong and confident in your Snake primary so far. Even the fact that you can identify it coming from such a non-Snake environment, and don’t feel guilty about it, is big.

I had a lot of trouble making friends in school.

I’m thinking this might be more of a secondary thing.

and generally ended up with like one friend who was the other weird girl, and who I always sort of kept at arm’s length emotionally. I moved schools several times as a kid and after the first best friend (who was the daughter of my mom’s best friend and was like a sister to me until she moved away), I really didn’t try too hard to make new “best” friends.

Hmm. See, this reads like a *default* friend to me, not a friend of choice. The other weird girl. The daughter of your mom’s friend. That’s an easy friend to have… and not one that you necessarily sought out. I’m not surprised that your primary didn’t latch onto her with that Snake intensity.

Even now, though I definitely have concentric circles of loyalty and a significant other who is my “top person”, I’m not sure I have that blind Snake I-would-literally-die-for-you loyalty toward anyone - I’d kill or hide a body for my top circles

That *is* Snake loyalty. Snakes aren’t going to die for someone else, are you kidding? That’s a sucker’s game. They value themselves too much.

I would give up a lot of my own comfort for my significant other. Maybe I’m just afraid to let myself feel that unquestioning loyalty, though I want to feel it, or maybe I’m really a Bird and just want to be a Snake because that would mean I could be un-broken eventually.

Let’s talk about your secondary, I want to hear about how you think you’re broken, because so far you seem fine. Congrats on the SO!

I don’t think I’m an Idealist though - I’m surrounded by them and I know I don’t care about “principles” the way they do. Then again, maybe I’m a Bird whose truth is that moral relativism is the truth lol. Anyway, I think for my primary, I’m probably a petrified Snake with a Bird model unless I’m totally wrong about myself.

I think you’re just a Snake who… is a Snake.

(you’ve got that Birdy influence though, from your dad, and they do like to complicate things.)

As for my secondary, I loved to read (everything - all kinds of fiction, especially sci-fi/fantasy/mystery and, like, Victorian sci-fi/horror adventures, nature books, medical texts, etc. Wikipedia was a revelation when it came out), and I was smart and good at taking tests and knowing the answers in school, so at a certain point I think I just defaulted to being “the smart one” and used that as armor to help keep people from getting too close.

yep yep yep, welcome to the ‘fun Bird model’ club, we have snacks

I do genuinely love to learn, and I’ve always been known among friends and family as the one who either knows the answer or will look it up. I love pop culture trivia and nature facts. I also love and am good at debate, but not really when real feelings are involved - I more love the “battle of wits” aspect, where I can match up against a person to see if my knowledge and ability to adapt my argument on the fly can stump them.

I also would argue the unpopular point, or the point I didn’t agree with, just for sport. Fun Bird secondary model.

I developed terrible anxiety and probably some depression as well in high school.

Okay, now I’m seeing the problem.

and now that I’m older, I suspect that I may have ADHD, though I haven’t been officially assessed. I didn’t discover my executive function issues really until college, when suddenly being smart and being able to figure out the test answers through context clues and what I remembered from lectures and readings + whatever trivia I had gathered about the topic wasn’t enough anymore.

I suspect you’re right about being ADHD. Or at least being neruodivergent.

I am horrible at studying! I would plan out my study sessions and make these nice little cheat sheets (these were allowed on exams) and they didn’t work at all! I did very well in my literature minor though, because all the graded assignments were papers rather than open-answer tests, and I could get my thoughts out better and with more resources at my disposal if I forgot something and needed to go back to the book to check.

Oh ouch. Yeah, I’m not even relating this back to a secondary, because I’m reading this as a working memory thing? Like ugh tests are such a terrible way access knowledge. What is even the *point* of memorization anymore? You should have been able to have a college career that was completely writing papers, like I did.

I was at one point very jealous of my Lion Snake brother, who I felt could do “whatever he wanted” with minimal consequences, while I always felt constrained by being “good” and not rocking the boat too much with my family.

Yep. That’s being an oldest daughter.

I couldn’t understand why he didn’t seem to care about being considerate to everyone else in the household (especially my chronically overworked, can’t-say-no Badger mom lol).

It’s because he’s the youngest. Mine’s the same.

This attitude was definitely influenced by my anxiety issues at that time, since I had (and still have) a lot of trouble asking for anything - help, permission, whatever. I’d rather do things and explore on my own, without anyone watching, so I don’t have to ask and don’t have to explain.

Did you low-key raise your younger siblings? Because it sounds like you raised your siblings.

I feel better with a little bit of distance, and definitely wear masks in most situations. I’d say my masks are half conscious and half reactive - I do have some idea of how I’d like to be perceived, but it’s only kind of systematic.

That makes me think Snake or Badger secondary.

I have a few “characters” that I use as touchpoints when I’m going into a new situation, but once I’m there I mostly just act nice and funny and see what happens.

So far I’m going with Badger secondary (be nice and and assume it’ll be fine is very badger) with a fun Bird secondary model, that you can do an Actor Bird thing with. Although liking to “just see what happens” is pretty snake.

The characters are really just costumes I use to give off a certain first impression, although I do really like the costumes and find them fun. I love clothes, makeup, and perfume too, because I enjoy the idea of making multidimensional costumes for different settings. I actually enjoy the mask a lot of the time - I have tattoos that are purposefully in places that I can cover easily, because I enjoy the idea that there’s something under the professional mask that people only know about if I show them. I’m a bit socially awkward I think (I repeat myself and talk a lot), but most people tend to either like me or tolerate me, and I don’t get into a lot of interpersonal conflicts.

Hm. Either Courtier Badger or Snake secondary, fun Bird secondary model. However. Especially after talking about your Actor Bird in such fun, positive, happy language… I am going to call you out for “socially awkward” and “people tolerate me.” Which tells me you don’t have as much faith in your social skill set, and it’s *maybe* a little burnt.

(Also, not to get too armchair psychologist tell-me-about-your-mother, but if your mom has a “chronically overworked, can’t-say-no” Badger secondary… that’s going to affect how you see Badger secondaries.)

Right now I work in a very Badger/Bird workplace, and it’s really a terrible fit, even though I can squeak by enough to fool my superiors into thinking I’m doing a good job.

oh we’ve got some imposter syndrome, that can also be a burnt secondary thing.

It’s all long-term planning and daily maintenance tasks, and I really don’t like it. I change most of my plans partway through, but I’m not sure if it’s because I’m really an improvisational secondary at heart, or if I’m truly a Bird that’s just bad at planning for all of the variables.

I’m going to say you’re not a Bird. Making cheat-sheets (which is a very Bird secondary strategy) also did not work, and you feel confined by, not comforted by plans. You’re not a Lion, you enjoy keeping your true self to yourself too much. You could be either a Badger or Snake. And if you really hate daily maintenance tasks… that could be coming from a few places, but it makes me lean Snake.

I love being in situations where I can iterate on a plan, or make a new plan on the fly. I love escape rooms and am pretty good at them; I still get stumped and need hints sometimes, but when I *get* a puzzle, it sort of just clicks for me? I don’t think in a very linear way and am not a good chess player, but I also have never studied chess so perhaps I just am at a knowledge disadvantage in that game.

This is also you using Bird to have fun, and we know you *love* using Bird to have fun.

One of my proudest moments

okay this is definitely going to be helpful

was when I was on a day trip with my significant other, and we needed to find a place to buy food quickly so we wouldn’t miss a specific ferry and then a specific bus - we were on an island, and near the ferry station the restaurants were all too expensive and we were worried they would take too long anyway. He was starting to get frazzled, but I was able to think on my feet, and we just grabbed a calming beer (lol) at a creepy neighborhood bar, then got on the ferry and bought microwave meals at a 7-Eleven by the bus station. It was awesome and I was very proud of myself for staying calm and looking around myself for options.

Well that is VERY Snake secondary.

I generally take a long time making decisions when it’s not a crisis situation, because I have to *weigh all the options*, but I often end up in analysis paralysis. Crunch time is where I really shine as a decision-maker.

Snake again. From what I’m seeing, your Bird is a fantastic toy, but actually kind of makes you miserable when you have to depend on it for the important stuff. (studying, your job, making important decisions)

All of this long post is to say, I’m not sure whether my Bird secondary is a fun model that got repurposed into an executive dysfunction compensation tool and anxiety/depression soother to supplement my Snake secondary

I think you hit the nail straight on the head right there.

or if Bird is my true secondary and Snake is a model that I learned from my dad and brother + characters I admire in media

oh your favorite characters are Snake secondaries are they? That’s a big tell.

and that I use when I fail to plan adequately given my executive dysfunction.

Executive dysfunction is a whole thing, but you don’t have to “”plan adequately”” for everything.

I find both fun and both useful, but I’m not sure which is innate and which is the model!

My money is on snake secondary, Bird secondary model.

#submission #sortinghatchats #wisteria sorts #sortme #double snake #snake primary #snake secondary #bird secondary model #family dynamics

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sassystrawberryk · 3 years

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Sorry for the novel all, just feeling low and sorry for myself but I needed to get this out.

This afternoon, I found out a friend of mine is pregnant. Her and her husband have been married since August 2016.

When they got married her husband (who has two college aged kids) had had a vasectomy roughly 10 years prior. My friend however, wanted a baby so the vasectomy was reversed.

Then they found out she had very few eggs left after trying for nearly 2yrs post reversal. She’s 33 now. They went through IVF and now she’s just entered her second trimester.

I am happy for them and I know how badly she wants this.

I’m just feeling extremely jealousy and even some anger. In 2 months, I will be 43yrs old.

To date, I’ve never had a boyfriend, never even really gotten a second glance from any guys. I’ve tried online and dating apps and two ended up in ‘minor’ assaults. Suffice to say, the online route just isn’t for me.

One night stands also aren’t for me as the two I’ve experienced left me feeling incredibly empty and alone.

Some girls dream of their wedding. Me? I dreamt of being married, having one, maybe two kids. I’ve always wanted to find a guy who can truly be an equal partner. Yet it’s never happened for me.

Even in my workplace, there are no single men. I have thought of adoption but I barely have enough money to keep myself afloat. Plus, with my mental health history of depression, I highly doubt any judge would award me custody of any child.

I just feel like, it’s not going to ever happen for me. It hurts, very much. I’m angry because I want to know why? What did I do, or what is it about me that is so wrong or repulsive to the opposite sex?

Why am I not deserving of love? Why does my friend who knowingly married a man who had clearly made a choice that he was not going to have anymore children, get her dream?

Why do I have to be alone? I used to have hope. In my 20’s friends started getting married and I went to all their weddings. In my early 30’s they all started having babies and buying homes. I always said to myself, soon just be patient and soon it will be me, my turn.

I even had one friend to to set me up with her then boyfriend’s older brother. We met had coffee and he was great. Two days later my friend calls and says she’s now dating him and broke up with her boyfriend. Guess who was maid of honour at their wedding?

Thing is. After all these friends had their families and their houses, suddenly I no longer fit anywhere in their lives. Today, I am only in touch with one of those old friends. Even our communications are just a few messages a couple of times a year.

Some days I’m so angry I want to scream, other days I’m so jealous, I actually cry.

I know I’m not the only human being out there that feels this way. Even some family members have told me to just get used to it. Or find something to fill your time.

My reply; FUCK YOU!!!

I am an only child who grew up an only child but I was not the centre of attention. My mother was very ill and she came first. I saw the way my dad cared for her right until the day she died.

Maybe love like that doesn’t exist anymore. I don’t know but this knife of loneliness just cuts deeper every time.

In 2017 I was actively working out and was beginning to feel more comfortable with myself. Then I experienced a sever herniated disc that took almost 2 yrs to fully recover from. For 4 months, I could not walk or stand upright.

Then with the pandemic my plans to try taking a class of some sort to expand my social circle got squashed. I just don’t know what else to do.

My friends all met their significant others just doing their jobs or were introduced by friends. One couple were high school sweethearts. Essentially, their relationships happened organically just like my parents did.

So why does it seem impossible for me? 😓😡

#wallowing #angry #sad #alone #loveless

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purplesurveys · 3 years

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1266

Retaking this survey I took nearly exactly a year ago, which would be around the time of one of the lowest points in my life. A lot has changed and I’m *so much* happier these days, but it doesn’t hurt to revisit and acknowledge the emotions I went through then.

Are you afraid of lifts? 2020: I only feel afraid if I’m the only person riding the elevator. If I ever got locked inside I’d always feel a lot better if there’s at least one other person stuck with me. Otherwise I try not to be too bothered by lifts. 2021: Yeah, as much as possible I would still only get in if someone else was also planning to get in; elevators that are also visibly old and unmaintained tend to scare me away, too. But generally, riding the elevator isn’t a phobia of mine.

Who did you last talk to in person? Is that person attractive? 2020: That would be my mom and yes, I think she’s very attractive. Not in that way of course, but you know what I mean. She looks very young for her age and we always get mistaken as sisters. 2021: My dad. Sure, I think he looks okay.

Have you ever had a deep, personal conversation with a stranger? 2020: As much as possible I don’t like having deep conversations with someone I barely know, but sometimes I can’t escape the situation and I end up being a part of those talks. The nicest conversation I had was with a client during my first internship – he has his own company now, but over breakfast he told me about his struggles, his old unfulfilling 9-5 job, and gave me so much valuable life advice. He was so genuine and so nice and at that time I stopped minding the fact that he was a stranger and I’d most likely never encounter him again. 2021: Ooh I remember that. Yeah, he was lovely to talk to and I definitely have not encountered anyone with stories like his ever since. Anyway, I’ve grown to be a lot more extroverted over the past year so I certainly wouldn’t mind a conversation with a stranger, as long as they haven’t established themselves as a creep or pervert.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate your own appearance? Why? 2020: Probably an 8. I don’t have a problem with my physical features for the most part, but I don’t like my front teeth and that my body hair is thicker and grows more quickly than average. Those are the two things that mess with my self-esteem the most, and the two factors that took out the missing two points. 2021: 9. I still have the same points for self-esteem issues; but I’ve embraced them slightly more over the last year.

Who was the last person to send you a message on Facebook? When was the last time you saw that person? 2020: Rita. I probably saw her sometime in early March. Maybe during a board meeting for our org before the lockdown was implemented. 2021: Angela. Sometime mid-July, I think? when we went to the BTS pop-up store together with Reena and Hans. I might see her again next week for her birthday. I have to see her reaction when she opens up the present I plan to get her.

If you decided, at this moment in time, that you were going to make a sandwich, what would you put on it? 2020: Assuming my hypothetical pantry is full, I would go for a southern-style chicken sandwich with chicken breast and spicy mayo. My stomach just rumbled, what have you doneeeeee 2021: Holy shit that sounds so fucking good right now. Can I just steal my own answer? Spicy crunchy chicken sandwiches are the shit.

Are you good at controlling your emotions, or do you tend to let them get the better of you? 2020: It’s 50/50 at best. Sometimes I let self-control win since it’s usually the most responsible choice and it’s also to avoid drama, but there are days where I recognize that self-care is just as important and so I allow myself a healthy release whether the release is one of sadness or resentment or anything else. Repressing my emotions and letting them bubble up over time isn’t healthy, either. 2021: I’m a lot better at it now. I think I have done a lot of growing and maturing and processing over the last year, and I don’t get into dramatic outbursts nor repress my feelings too much anymore. Whenever I feel deeply I let the emotions stay, but I also know when I need to reach out and seek help.

At this moment in time, what do you want the most? 2020: Normalcy. 2021: At this moment in time, I wish I could go back to when I took this survey and reassure the me then that everything was going to turn out absolutely fine. But right now I wish I also had sushi.

How many times have you cried over the person you love/like? 2020: Too many. 2021: I don’t love anyone in that sense.

How exactly are you feeling right now? Why do you feel the way you do? 2020: I haven’t been feeling anything in particular these days. To be honest, I’ve just been doing a lot of…floating around, existing, trying to make it to the end of the day unscathed. I believe I’m feeling this way because there’ve been a lot of major life changes happening and I simply wasn’t prepared to deal with all of them simultaneously. 2021: Jesus Christ that was brutal to read. How the fuck did I...manage? Anyway, right nooooow I feel quite content because a new episode of Run BTS came out and I really enjoyed it!! I also feel cozy because it’s actually quite cold tonight, so it’s making me feel sleepy faster than I would like lol. What’s the relationship status of the last person that put their arms around you? 2020: She’s been married for the last 23 years to my dad. 2021: He’s been married for the last 24 years to my mom.

Has the last person you held hands with, ever told you that they love you? 2020: Yeah. 2021: ^ Gross. But yeah to answer this question in 2021 – yes she has, in a platonic, sisterly way. We say it all the time.

Is there someone you used to hang out with all the time, and now you don’t anymore? If so, do you ever miss that person? Why do you think your relationship changed? 2020: Sure, Sofie’s the first person I thought of because we used to be the best of friends. We simply grew apart when college started, since she studied in Manila and I was all the way in another city. It would’ve been too difficult to keep up the friendship with both of us also starting to have different goals and priorities, as well as new friends. I miss her sometimes, but I’m not desperate to see her anytime soon. I’m sad to see our relationship fizzle out the way it did, but we’re both pretty happy and have been doing well and that’s enough for me. 2021: I stopped hanging out with Aya because she is an abusive piece of shit, and I obviously value my friendship with Jo far more than tolerating an abuser and keeping them around in my life. As for missing her, no, not really. I’ve always found it easy to cut people off and wipe out the positive sentiments I would use to have about a person.

Who was the last person you talked to, whose name started with ‘H’? What color are that person’s eyes? 2020: I don’t know a lot of H people so it was probably Hannah even though I haven’t talked to her in a while. Her eyes are dark brown/black, like nearly every Filipino. 2021: Hans. Same, dark brown/black.

Who was the last person you talked to, whose name started with ‘M’? How did you meet that person? 2020: OMG this was so tough to think about. The only person I can think of is Angela but that’s only because her first name is actually Maria. We met on the first day of 1st grade, back in 2005. I accidentally stabbed her with a newly-sharpened pencil and made her palm bleed, and for some insane reason a lifelong friendship was established that day. 2021: Macky. He’s a coworker but is a couple of positions above me. At first I took issue with my workplace not using honorifics, but when I learned it was a tactic to get everyone comfortable with one another, I soon got used to it.

The person you love/like is offered a job in another country. Would you let them go, or try and convince them to stay? 2020: Let them, because that was what we agreed on. 2021: No matter my feelings towards the situation, I would never interfere and ask them to stay.

Is there anyone you dislike so much, that you actually can’t stand to be around them? 2020: Back in college I hated being anywhere near a frat guy. They all had the same vibe, had the same fashion sense, used the same slang, had the same shitty work ethic so I always knew whenever one was nearby. 2021: One of my uncles, who I believe has COVID literally right now because he refused to get a vaccine. Can’t say I feel awful.

When was the last time you wanted to cry, but didn’t, because you didn’t want to show that you were upset? Why? 2020: I’ve been hiding my emotions and my tears from my family the whole month because we’re not a showy family when it comes to our feelings. We deal with our emotions privately, in our own bedrooms. 2021: Like two weeks ago when my teacher in my Korean classes shared a song recommendation with us and it turned out to be this really emotional, introspective song about dealing with life anxieties. It was beautifully sung and I nearly cried, and the only reason I didn’t was because I was in a virtual class full of strangers and I wasn’t about to start bawling my eyes out in such a situation lol.

If you found out that someone had been talking about you behind your back, would you confront them? 2020: I probably only would if they’ve always been super nice to me to my face but talking shit about me if I’m not around. It would be something I’d want to get into the bottom of. 2021: Depends on who the person is and if I think they’re worth my energy or not.

Which do you think is worse - saying something and then wishing you hadn’t, or not saying something and wishing you had? 2020: I hate nothing more than being too afraid to say something and then never having the space to say it again. That’s the type of regret that stays with me and keeps me up at night. 2021: I still go with the latter.

Do you know anyone who seems almost incapable of showing their emotions? 2020: I wouldn’t say I know anyone exactly like this, but I know of people who have built a great big wall around themselves and are super defensive when it comes to their emotions in a way that you’ll never know if they’re going through something. The first person I thought of was JM. 2021: My dad is extremely unexpressive. I guess I can say I kinda get it - he has to keep up his image as the father of the house and all - but I hope he has his own, healthy ways of processing his emotions, even if they have to be done in private.

What are 3 things that are guaranteed to make you smile, or put you in a good mood? 2020: Good Mythical Morning, seeing my orgmates, and driving. Driving seems to put me in a really good mood these days, though that’s likely because I haven’t had to do it as often as I used to. 2021: BTS, my dogs, and talking to Angela and Reena.

Do you look more like your mum or your dad? 2020: I’m a carbon copy of my mom, I’ve been told more times than I can count. 2021: Well yeah, that hasn’t changed.

When was the last time you saw your grandparents? 2020: I last saw my paternal grandparents in February; with my maternal grandma, two Thursdays ago. I have not seen my maternal grandpa since June or July 2015. 2021: Start of August for my maternal grandma; and I believe it was June when we most recently visited my dad’s parents. I visited my maternal grandpa at his columbarium slot during his birthday last year.

Have you ever felt really attracted to someone, but been deterred because you found out they didn’t have a very nice personality? 2020: No. If I get attracted to someone, that means I’ve already decided that they’re attractive on all fronts, including their attitudes and personality. 2021: ^ That is such a damn lie lmao. I remember getting attracted to this boy Lance from high school and thinking he was so cute and that I should probably try my chances with him...but I immediately got turned off when I noticed how he was slightly immature for his age and I stopped pursuing him immediately.

Have you ever hugged/kissed someone you’d only just met? 2020: Probably when I was out drinking, yes. 2021: ^ That’s true but that only goes for hugging.

Where is the person you would most like to see/be with? 2020: There is no such person. 2021: All my friends and best friends are at home. At least they should be at this hour, lmao.

When was the last time you bought a CD/DVD? Which one was it? 2020: The last CD I bought was Beyoncé’s self-titled album, but I can’t remember if I bought it in late 2013 or early 2014. 2021: ^ 2020-me had no idea :’) Anyway, the last DVD I placed an order for was Map of the Soul ON:E, though I’m not getting that until October. The last thing I was able to successfully receive was my Butter CD set.

Have you ever gone against someone’s advice and then regretted it? 2020: I don’t usually ask my friends for advice since I don’t want to possibly be the jerk that asks for advice but goes against them. I’ve always just gone with whatever I think is best for myself. 2021: I guess I’m still the same as I found myself agreeing to those two sentences.

Would you ever apologize for something that wasn’t your fault? 2020: Welcome to my life. 2021: Before, I used to. I won’t let shit like that pass now.

What’s been the best thing about your day so far? 2020: I’ve done a good share of self-care activities today…I actually got up in bed and have been taking surveys, I ate a lot for breakfast, I took a shower, and fixed myself a cup of coffee. The bar has been set very low since August obviously, but considering I’ve been skipping out on a great deal of activities that used to make me happy, I’m just glad I accomplished several today. It’s the little joys, guys. 2021: Getting good feedback from my boss on a deck I had to work on all day today. Also the new episode of Run BTS, aka my favorite thing about Tuesdays.

Has anyone ever cried in your arms before? 2020: I can only recall one person who’s done this. 2021: Sure.

Who was the last person you talked to, whose name started with ‘C’? Is that person older or younger than you? 2020: Tina, but her full name is Christina so she counts. I keep forgetting she’s a year older than me. 2021: Coco. Yeah, I believe so.

Do you keep a lot of things from your parents? 2020: Yes. They know my good side - my awards, achievements, job prospects, all the shiny stuff they can be proud of. They don’t need to know how mentally fucked their firstborn actually is, because it’s not like they’d know how to deal with all that weight. 2021: Yes.

Who was the last person you confided in? Do you regret it? 2020: Angela. Not at all. She’s been my rock for the last 15 years. 2021: Andi, and no. I trust them with my whole life and then some.

What was the last film you watched, that you hadn’t seen before? What kind of film was it? What did you think of it? 2020: I’m Thinking of Ending Things is a psychological thriller. It’s not for the faint of heart, especially those who’ve been feeling depressed and/or existential lately. It certainly didn’t make me feel good and I wish I could unwatch it, not because it was bad but because it was a bit too triggering. 2021: Be With You; it’s a Korean film that’s mostly romance but with a super super slight tinge of fantasy if you squint your eyes hard enough. I loved it a lot; both the leads are sooooooooo pretty to look at and the kid is a fantastic actor. I also cried a lot, but I do think the ending could’ve been executed better as it felt rushed.

Have you ever had an argument with the last person you hugged/kissed? 2020: Lots. 2021: Nothing more than extremely petty fights, the last of which we had approximately 12 years ago.

Using one word only, describe the day you’ve had so far. 2020: Lonely. 2021: Routine.

#survey #surveys

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squishybuttercup · 4 years

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Nam Jaejoong

28 years old - Genius - Slob - Bookworm

@simvicii Alex’s Bachelor Challenge

(NOTE: Under the cut is LOOONG story with his earlier life containing tw violence and depression. If you’re okay with that content, I hope you take the time to get to know Jae.)

Backstory:

Jae was orphaned when he was 10, and he had been keeping to himself mostly ever since then. His family had gone through series of tragedies, but most of those things do not make sense to a child. When he was 6, his older sister was diagnosed with Leukemia. Their parents’ relation started to strain as they struggle to earn money for his sister’s treatments and for their basic needs. They worked multiple jobs, and took turns in taking care for their children, but Jae was mostly overlooked. Both of them had to stop school, and so their only activities at home were reading and house chores (which eventually Jae had to do most as his sister’s condition worsened). Their parents were barely home, and when they were, all they would do is fight (screaming at each other and throwing things around the house). Eventually, his father stopped coming home. Without enough financial aid, medical treatments for his sister halted. She died when Jae was around 9 years old.

After years of struggles and pain, his mother was pushed to a point of experiencing depression. Again, a child wouldn’t know what to do in his situation. After all these things, the worst was yet to come for him. Robbers came to their house one night, and his mother tried to fight them of from stealing what is left of their savings. Jae rushed to help her but one of the robbers attacked him, all he could remember was a sharp pain on his face before he passed out (This resulted in him having a scar on his face). He woke up in a hospital bed, wherein a police officer broke the news to him, his mother was killed in the robbery. The orphanage has sent him from foster families after foster families. Jae spent most of his time on his own, reading books and trying experiments (when he has resources). He had a hard time at school because most kids and teachers just saw him as a weird kid. When he was 17 his genius potentials were noticed by their school principal who decided to give him a test, wherein if he passed he is then qualified to continue on to college despite him stopping school for a few years.

After passing the exam, Jae was then introduced to a couple willing to adopt him even though he is almost in legal age. The couple were both middle-aged doctors, who never had a chance to have a child of their own. They think that he will fit right in their household, and he did like it there. He had access to a library with a lot of medical books, a comfortable bed, and supportive guardians. During his time spent with them and in college, he slowly started to open up to other people. It was a little awkward for him at first to call them “mom” and “dad” but he got used to it.

For his bachelor’s degree, he took up BS Psychology. His course was a big part of how he was able to help himself heal and to also attend therapy. His social life also started to grow as he participated in different organizations that are about healthcare and environment preservation. When it comes to his dating life, well, college girls and boys don’t usually take interest on someone who has his face buried in a book. He went on a few first dates, but none of those developed into anything serious.

He did of course still spend most of his time reading, especially fictions which are fantasy genre since that was his interest when he was a kid. Jae was usually submerged in studying; this applies to all kinds of topics ranging from social issues up to medical discoveries. Whenever this happens, he tends to ignore the random papers, candy wrappers, water bottles littered in his room so his mom describes him as bit of a slob. (Their housemaid confirmed this).

His motto in life is “Keep Learning”. He values individual growth and always finds ways on self-improvement. He tried out sports during this time too, which are basketball and tennis. They were fun for him but they didn’t exactly become his favorite activities. But his experience did help him realize that hobbies aside from reading are important as well. This was how he developed the habit of jogging every other day, and he also tried going to the gym but that didn’t work out for him so he opted for exercising at home instead.

Jae entered medical school when he was 22, and he originally planned to pursue being a General Practitioner. But during his third year, when he had to choose his field of specialization in medical practice, he chose to focus on being a surgeon. Furthermore, his goal is to be a neurosurgeon.

When it comes to family bonding, they genuinely enjoy discussions related to their field of expertise. His dad is a Physician and his mom is an OB-GYN. But medical field aside, they enjoy watching action movies together. They also go out to eat ice cream during summer, and their favorite food to eat during winter is ramen.

Right now, at age 28, he has finished 2 years of internship. He is currently evaluating his life and his goals in life.

“I’m working as an intern in the same hospital where my parents work. But I decided to take a small break from that for now. I am passionate about my career, but I’m also the kind of guy who dreams of having his own family. And uhm.. I’ve been thinking that I’m not getting any younger, and now more than ever I want to take this shot at love. I talked it out with my parents, because they’ve always been supportive of my career, and they said they want what’s best for me, and that I’m the one who knows that. I’m going to admit that the idea of my own family also terrifies me, but I also know that with the kind of person I am now, I’m going to be a responsible and loving father/husband.”

The reason why Jae is even able to make this choice, despite the well-known fact that doctors are busy as heck, is because of his security in his workplace and the support from his parents and friends. The hospital he works on ensures not only the best care for its patients, but also to its workers. The board members and all staff are aware of Jae’s capability as a doctor and treats him with high regard even though he’s only an intern so far. He had a discussion with the Director of the hospital before he started internship, to which he expressed his intentions and wishes regarding his working hours incase he decides to start a family. The Director is a good friend of their family, and one of the few people who knows about his past. Which is why he has made arrangements for Jae, with the knowledge that he will still be able to work his best.

Jae doesn’t really know what to think of fate or coincidences, but just during the start of his break, he saw “The Bachelor: Alexander Goth”. He wasn’t one to have crushes immediately on someone, more so on someone he hasn’t met. But boy did Alex leave an impression on him. The more he read about him, his interest in him develops and he hopes to get to know him in person someday. He deeply respects Alex’s work as an author, and he’s pretty excited to read his works!

“I’m entering this challenge and I view it as me spending time with possibly the love of my life. When it comes to what I look for in a relationship, I want someone I can grow with. People are so obsessed with finding their Perfect Match, and most of the time they just look for someone who is completely compatible with who they are at the moment, and worse they only want these ideal soulmates. I think that it’s important for partners to respect, trust and love each other. But they should also be aware that people continuously change overtime, and that as partners they must grow together and always choose each other.”

Here is a CAS picture of him where his scar is now visible:

squishybuttercup’s notes: hi love!! I know that your aim with this challenge is to have gameplay-centered legacy. But the reason why I wrote this much detail about him is for you (and alex) to get to know him well. Gameplay-wise he can just work as doctor in the sims world and be one of the two best dads in the sims world. Also Jae isn’t the type of person who shares his life story away, so I imagine him telling Alex himself about that part ^_^ I’m super excited for this and I hope Nam Jaejoong gets picked! Anything else not mentioned here you may ask me or opt to have your own interpretation I don’t mind as I am literally offering him to be in your game ajsdfsjkl this also means i acknowledge that you might change his looks to fit your game’s aesthetics. also ily :p

#ts4 #the sims 4 #the sims #sims #sims 4 #maxis mix #simvicii #ts4 edit #sims 4 edit #sims edit #s4 edit #ts4 male sim #male sims #alexgothbcentry #my edits

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tessatechaitea · 5 years

Text

Wonder Twins #7

I didn't realize the Wonder Twins were Gen X.

Oh yeah! Zan had just saved the world by stopping a plot that was going to save the world.

I just realized I hadn't scanned the cover yet and as I did, I noticed the Wonder Twins fist/star emblem marks a striking resemblance to a goat.se riff. Zan and Jayna get taken off of monitor duty at the Hall of Justice now that they've stopped the League of Annoyance. You'd think that doing a good job would get you a promotion but those of use who have always done spectacularly good jobs know better. While everybody else works down to the lowest common denominator (because who wants to do more work than the next guy?! A fool, that's who!), good workers just put on blinders and do the job they were hired for until the time they're being paid for is up. Sure, that sounds like I'm describing a sucker who's been completely manipulated by the man! But I'm also describing a person who fulfills their end of whatever bargain they've agreed to! So when I say Zan and Jayna wind up giving tours at the Hall of Justice because they were too good at catching criminals, you'll understand why I went into the previous digression. Maybe? I don't know. Have you seen what state the U.S. is in?! Why are you picking apart my writing style?! Mark Russell takes a few pages to shit all over hockey fans and now I hate Mark Russell with a burning passion. Even though I'd hardly call myself a hockey fan. I mean, I loved NHL '93 (unless it was '92 (or maybe '94?)) and I loved going to San Jose Sharks games when I was still living in the Bay Area (plus my friend worked equipment for the Sharks and would get us free tickets). But it's not like I follow it much anymore. I just like the feeling of being angry at somebody for writing a satirical critique of sports fans rioting because they're so happy that their team won. Although why would I be angry when I've never done that nor think Russell's wrong in his pointed and humorous critique?! Oh, who cares why! Being angry is just more fun! Oh shit! I finally understand people's attraction to Fox News! I just watched a YouTube clip of somebody's Jeremy Roenick highlights from NHL '94 set to the song "More Than a Feeling" and it was pretty awesome. Also, that was definitely the one we played nonstop back in 1993 and 94 and maybe even into 95. Roenick unstoppable down with the puck while Sharks players lay splayed out on their back all across the ice. To stop the riot, Superman calls in Repulso! He's a guy whose super power is super stink and he's kept in a locked room with a bare table and a microwave and nobody wants to be his friend because he smells like a garbage dumb that vomited on top of the diarrhea it shit out while standing on its head so the stanky muck ran down his body absorbing all of his body odor and then somebody cut up a durian and tossed it in the mix.

Superman is a dick. Get this guy some friends with no sense of smell. Or at the very least, an Xbox Gold account.

After the hockey riots, some "the end of the world" riots take place because Zan and Jayna screw up something or other. Basically what that means is that Repulso gets to be let out of his airtight containment unit again! He's a pretty optimistic guy for being sealed away by Superman (which is just Superman's way! Is somebody a problem? No problem! Put them in the Phantom Zone!). He's so happy and not bitter about his living arrangements that I feel like Zan and Jayna had better figure out a way to give him a better life before this issue ends. Because if Mark Russell fails this character he created before this issue is over and I have to face reality after snot crying about a fictional person, I'm going to be pretty upset when I continue to buy Mark Russell comic books because what other choice do I have? Am I going to stop reading DC's best written comic books because Mark Russell betrayed poor Repulso? Of course not! What am I? A person with integrity?! Repulso winds up getting his ass beat by rioters as Repulso's handlers flee the chaotic "end of the world" downtown riot scene. Luckily the Wonder Twins are headed downtown to save his life and maybe become his friend or something? Please? After Zan and Jayna save Repulso, Jayna goes to Superman to tell him everything sucks. He gives her a big speech about how being a hero is lonely work because you don't always get to fuck the hot chick at your secret identity's workplace and also fuck an Amazon warrior while also getting to fuck anybody at all whose initials are "L.L." and also have a best friend who is the coolest guy in the world with a butler who makes the best pancakes. Sometimes you're a fat jerk who smells who even Superman won't fucking give the time of day because Superman has this speech about how being a hero is lonely and that's a good thing so you should embrace your loneliness because who wants to put up with your super stink, fatty?

Jayna is a way better hero than Superman. At least in this comic book that's all about her and not Superman so of course she's going to outshine him!

Oh yeah, the ant in the above picture is Jayna. It can't smell. Wonder Twins #7 Rating: A+. I should probably be less cynical when reading Mark Russell comic books because he's as earnest and serious as he can be while also providing lots of jokes. He takes writing seriously because what else is there? If your message isn't going to matter, why bother? (is his philosophy. I think. It's not my philosophy! I don't think? Maybe it is! I just write things that matter in a much different way than Mark Russell writes things that matter.) I should probably read Superman's speech and be inspired by the idea that you don't do good because you want adulation; you do good because it's the right thing to do, even if the entire world thinks you're an asshole for doing it. Even if all of the other superheroes think you're a stinky fuck and only keep you around to use as a tool to oppress and manipulate the masses without having to use logic and reason on them (because, let's face it, the people doing terrible things don't understand logic and reason. Or they're do but they're just selfish and greedy so nothing is going to reach them anyway (which maybe is part of Superman's message?)), you're still a hero at the end of the day. You can still be proud of your stinky self. And even if the life is lonely, you should remain positive and upbeat because Superman really doesn't want to be reminded that you exist every time you complain about the lack of reasonable living conditions. Being a hero is a state of mind, says the guy who also looks great and is invulnerable and has the best wife and a cool son and doesn't have to fear death! So inspiring!

#Wonder Twins #Mark Russell #Stephen Byrne #DC Comics #DC

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feralhogs · 5 years

Note

1-50 ho

you got it ho

1. What’s your favorite candle scent?

I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED. ive been Purchasing various smelly candles for my gay divination activities, and i have a few nominees. i first thought of the candle i have now, a pink one with a very sweet vanilla smell, i love very sweet smells because it makes me think of candy which i tend to try to fill my inner void with. however im going to go with the first candle i bought, a dark orange one with a citrus smell. citrus scents are my next favourite and specifically this one reminded me of curiously smelling candles at my piano teachers apartment when i was very young.

2. What female celebrity do you wish was your sister?

idk. ive been listening to her lion king stuff lately. dont judge me i needed to hear remixes of lion king music i was lost in that sauce in high school. and i just think shes neat. i dont think she would aggressively make me feel bad about everything, UNLIKE SOME PEOPLE

3. What male celebrity do you wish was your brother?

Look……. i really don’t know???? what is the criteria?? do they need to be like my siblings? dare i criticize my arguably criticizable siblings by picking out my ideal siblings? if i pick an ideal sibling, what does that say about what im lacking in my life? do i pick celebrities i hate so theoretically my family shames them into becoming silent and self-defeating

4. How old do you think you’ll be when you get married?

50. i think im going to have to figure myself out for a long time, and achieve some personal goals first. thats my excessively confident prediction and PERHAPS educated guess

5. Do you know a hoarder?

nnnnnoooooooo????? not a real, cant function because of hoarding hoarder. i can see in a few family members, including myself, liking to hang onto things that maybe become sentimental/unnecessary clutter but that sounds like something many non-hoarders experience?

6. Can you do a split?

lemme try one sec

7. How old were you when you learned how to ride a bike?

Idk maybe 7? Or 11? i think my parents taught me at a children age and then i started biking for fun like, later, like pre middle school?

8. How many oceans have you swam in?

1. i dont really remember swimming in an ocean but i may have faded childhood memories of salty water and seaweed

9. How many countries have you been to?

2… i went to idaho for a band trip… my dad really doesnt like travelling

10. Is anyone in your family in the army?

HAHAHA

NO. ACTUALLY YES. but its funny because the specific brand of christianity we are supposed to be is super pacifist so ive heard. but then i remembered one dude apparently who joined the us military?????? it seemed like it was… an unusual choice. i dont really know anything else about this guy, not even his name

11. What would you name your daughter if you had one?

🙏 *inhale* buddy. oooooohhffffff i want to say something gender neutral honestly. i dont want to rock the boat being unconventional or something but im just thinking of all those years trying to live up to a feminine name

12. What would you name your son if you had one?

same i guess… why have i never thought about this????? was i preoccupied naming myself.

13. What’s the worst grade you got on a test?

hmmmmm hmmmmm trying to unlock the vault. i think i remember a 1 or a 0 on a math quiz. i think i got 30% or something very very bad (i dont even want to know) on my last english exam, but to be fair, i was having such a bad mental breakdown my professor did an intervention

14. What was your favorite TV show when you were a child?

like a very very small child? i was obsessed with the save-ums (?!?!?) for some reason. i would sing the anthem… no. theme song? i dont know. i guess it was catchy and there were lots of fun characters. OHHHH I SEE WHATS WRONG

ITS BECAUSE WE ONLY HAD A TV TILL I WAS LIKE 5 OR SOMETHING. what are you cultured people watching as children? what are the shows?

15. What did you dress up as on Halloween when you were eight?

>:(

My Halloween experience:

i dont even remember i probably had some kind of fairy wings? i think i remember fairy wings. we went to one (1) house. later on, since we werent allowed to go trick-or-treating, we were each allotted a certain amount of candy, and if we ate more than a designated amount per day, we were in trouble and wouldnt be allowed anymore. i do remember getting in trouble for this. i think i stole someones candy. sibling against sibling. finally we were allowed to go trick or treating, i went with my younger brothers and by then, was a teenager and felt too tall and really uncomfortable

LMAO I JUST REMEMBERED THAT LAST TIME WE WENT TRICK-OR-TREATING NOT IN A RURAL AREA, my dad drove us around in a van and watched us like a hawk i believe. it was very tense and methodical.

16. Have you read any of the Harry Potter, Hunger Games or Twilight series?

i read the harry potter series (I WROTE SIBLIGS LOL) more times than i could count while growing up. i read the first hunger games book and didnt fancy it for whatever reason, and i had an obnoxious twilight-hating phase.

17. Would you rather have an American accent or a British accent?

sometimes, though, im really genuinely worried about what accent i do have. im worried i read so much harry potter growing up, it rubbed off on me. when i was a server, people would ask about an unusual accent i apparently had, and once, when i was talking to a super british guy who called me luv at walmart, he was like STOP. WAIT. YOU HAVE A BRITISH ACCENT. and i was like WHAT UHHH BYEBYE AND HE WAS LIKE NO. I HEARD YOU. STOP and i was like that michael jackson meme where he covers his face running away and everyone else in the line was staring

18. Did your mother go to college?

i believe she went to a bible college where people put a grand piano on top of the roof.

19. Are your grandparents still married?

all of my grandparents are dead.

…. hmmMMMM yow. ok. my grandparents who werent estranged stayed married for as long as either of them were living… however, my OTHER grandparents, i mean the fucking kidnappers, my abuser grandpa… remarried? when he was… really really aging. im judging him for it because i know what kind of person he was.

20. Have you ever taken karate lessons?

I WISH. my parents didnt seem to like that sort of thing (surprise). im interested in it now but… as usual… i feel like its too late, im too old.

21. Do you know who Kermit the frog is?

….. i… i thought i did… hes blessed… thats all.

22. What’s the first amusement park you’ve been to?

ಠ_ಠ

*crickets*

how could you ask me this?

no wait! i went to the waterslides. then, later on, i was never allowed to go to the waterslides.

23. What language, besides your native language, would you like to be fluent in?

Spanish. ive been “intending” to learn for a long time, and a lot of people who have been really good influences on me and been genuinely kind to me speak it, id like to learn it

24. Do you spell the color as grey or gray?

grey

one sec

yup thats canadian!

25. Is your father bald?

on the top of his head, yes >:(

26. Do you know triplets?

no?

27. Do you prefer Titanic or The Notebook?

no? what is this straight stuff? i listened to the dramatic titanic song and felt nothing.

28. Have you ever had Indian food?

i guess so, at a friends house! i dont think otherwise ive gone to a restaurant and actually had indian food

29. What’s the name of your favorite restaurant?

*gazes tearily at my OWN FUCKING OLD WORKPLACE

the food was sO GOOD MAN. IT WAS SO GOOD. im just not saying because despite how stalkable i probably am already, i dont want to be specific

30. Have you ever been to Olive Garden?

no whats that

31. Do you belong to any warehouse stores (Costco, BJ’s, etc.)?

belong? whats bjs? whats a warehouse for?

32. What would your parents have named you if you were the opposite gender?

i decided at one point they would never tell me this and it was no use asking. i do know they almost named my brother a very fusty old fashioned name fitting in with the thomas the tank engine theme

33. If you have a nickname, what is it?

G is the ONLY one i will accept so far.

34. Who’s your favorite person in the world?

i……… hmmmm…. i really dont like picking favourites. each person in my life has a unique relationship with me (even though a lot of them arent very warm, trusting or close). because of unhealthy middle school friendships ive grown an aversion to ranking relationships as if they have material value.

35. Would you rather live in a rural area or in the suburbs?

rural, i think. i need nature in my life!!! but i also need to be able to have connections to people.

36. Can you whistle?

yes, but not very loudly or accurately

37. Do you sleep with a nightlight?

no, but ive always wanted a nightlight

38. Do you eat breakfast every morning?

ive started to, yeah! this morning i made a whole thing with bread and mushrooms and eggs, and coffee, and i ate it outside watching the traffic. im really trying to treat myself nicely you see. its what id do for someone else.

39. Do you take any pills or medication daily?

THAT

BOY

JUICE!

WELCOME TO MY BUILD A BOY WORKSHOP!

SHOTS!SHOTS!SHOTS!

and im really fortunate to be in pretty good health, and have access to things i do need

40. What medical conditions do you have?

I dont think… i actually have any. id say gender dysphoria but i think it was informed consent. (im VERY lucky)

im pretty sure there are SOME mental conditions running around undiagnosed. MY BRAIN IS NOT WORKING PROPERLY

41. How many times have you been to the hospital?

for myself? once… when i got hives and started swelling up all over, but otherwise was fine. i really wonder what that was. other times was visiting sick/dying relatives which has made me feel sad and apprehensive whenever i enter a hospital or smell the food

42. Have you ever seen Finding Nemo?

yes! i had a gerbil named nemo!

43. Where do you buy your jeans?

i dont … remember … really nowhere special i actually have yet to find some jeans i LOVE. sometimes there is a pair of jeans that sparks joy. i do not have such a pair

44. What’s the last compliment you got?

my sister said my pants looked good on me. they are actually their pants, which they left on the floor in my room for an unknown reason, and they want them back. of course.

but because im excited about it and want to brag, the real compliment was when i made borscht and my sister not only ate it faster than me, but wanted a second helping. and my roommate stuck his face in the steam and said it smelled good. hell yes. i put fucking cilantro in it. fcking beast mode.

45. Do you usually remember your dreams in the morning?

yes. theyre usually really emotional and symbolic. if ive been talking to my parents, theyre usually nightmares. ive been reading about dream interpretation for a long time to deal with some of the ominous images that can come up

46. What flavor tea do you enjoy?

red rose reminds me of wheni was little my mom would make really sweet sweet red rose tea for me (thats the kind she drinks all the time) and it brings me those good feelings. otherwise licorice spice really appeald to me for some reason.

47. How many pairs of shoes do you currently own?

LMAO UHHH…brb

six. because of social pressure.

48. What religion will you raise your children to practice?

i never thought about this kind of thing…. i really don’t know….. id just want them to know how to be kind to others and themselves and thats literally it.

49. How old were you when you found out that Santa wasn’t real?

i was one of those edgy kids trying to spoil it for everyone. guess what other common fun thing my parents didnt do

50. Why do you have a youtube?

i dont! so i dont know what this question means! :)

HOLY SHIT I MADE IT THRU HIGH FIVE

#rambling #WOW #bug

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mariequitecontrarie · 5 years

Text

Cufflinks

Summary: Christmas crazy Belle French has more than a little crush on Mr. Gold, her firm’s workaholic senior partner. After she worms her way into being his Secret Santa in the office gift exchange, she decides the office New Year's Eve party is the perfect time to tell him she’s hopelessly, desperately into him, but the office elevator and a mix-up with the presents have other plans. Will Belle still snag her man and her midnight kiss? Notes: My (late) Christmas/New Year’s present to you all! Please enjoy the fluff. Rating: T Word Count: 6700

On AO3

“A mandatory office party on New Year’s Eve?” Ruby groaned. “Ugh! Regina is such a witch.”

“It’s not so bad,” Belle countered. She dug her hands into the pockets of her winter white coat, bracing herself against the wind for the last block of their walk to the office. It was a blustery cold night, but the snow that was expected to blanket Storybrooke, Maine, when they woke up tomorrow morning wasn’t scheduled to arrive until 4 in the morning. By the time the flakes flew, most New Year’s Eve revelers would have already dragged themselves to bed, drunk on champagne and midnight kisses. “Besides, we have tomorrow off.”

“Not so bad?” Ruby grimaced. “The only thing not bad about this situation is the open bar. I’m gonna get completely shitfaced, take my free vacation day, then follow it up with a week of sick time.”

“That’ll teach Regina to have a party.” Belle grinned, knowing the opposite was true. Regina Mills, the owner and CEO of Regal Marketing and their boss, had a deeply held philosophy that social events brought her team closer and made the workplace more productive. And as a result, she hosted outings and parties often. “Did you remember to bring your Secret Santa gift?”

Each holiday season, the gifts for their Secret Santa exchange were placed under the huge, glittering tree outside Regina’s office on the last Friday before Christmas. The idea was for everyone to take their gift home, open it at leisure, and bring it to the New Year’s Eve Party. As the team rang in the New Year together, Regina would reveal the identities of all the Secret Santas.

“Yep.” Ruby unzipped her leather jacket to reveal a red sweater featuring a sequined reindeer with a bejeweled red nose. “One ugly ass Rudolph sweater.”

“I think it’s cute!” Belle nudged her self-proclaimed work wife with her elbow. “Where’s your holiday spirit?”

“Christmas is over, Belles,” Ruby said flatly. “What’d you get from your Santa?”

Belle smiled. Sometimes it was hard to remember not everyone was as enthusiastic about the holidays as she was. Most years she was hauling a fresh evergreen into the house before the Thanksgiving turkey had even been carved. She loved the lights, the smells, the sounds of the season. Christmas was a magical, cozy time, and she wanted to stretch out the anticipation for as long as possible, and if she could carry her Christmas cheer into New Year’s, so much the better. She was fortunate her parents were as crazy for Christmas as she was; throughout December, the three of them packed in as much decorating, cookie-baking, and holiday light viewing as possible.

She patted the knapsack slung over her shoulder. “A gift card to the bookshop around the corner, tea tagged with literary quotes, a mug with the phrase “Bookmarks Are for Quitters,” and an old books candle—it smells like an ancient library, all aged paper and dusty shelves.” Impressed, Ruby whistled. “Generous. And whoever they are, they know all about you and your obsession with books!”

“Isn’t it great? I’ve brought it all with me, plus one of the books I bought with the gift card. It might be the best book I’ve read all year.”

“Nice.”

Ruby dodged a small patch of ice, dragging Belle around it, too. When Belle started talking about books she tended to get distracted and walking into walls or slipping on black ice were distinct possibilities. “It’s called Hyperion Heights,” Belle continued. “There’s this police detective, Weaver, who’s looking for the love of his life. She’s missing and he’s tearing the town apart looking for her. Oh! But he’s not really a detective. It’s this elaborate curse cast by a witch that makes him believe he’s someone else. So romantic.”

Ruby wrinkled her nose. “I guess if you like that sort of thing. Any wolves in it?”

“Not so far.” Belle shook her head and opened the door to their office building. She and Ruby’s heels clicked in unison as they crossed the lobby toward the elevator.

“Are they ripping each other’s clothes off yet?”

Belle pulled a face. “Wolves ripping each other’s clothes off? Now that would make for a fascinating love scene.”

She punched the button for the seventh floor where their office was located. Normally she took the stairs whenever possible, but tonight’s party heels were particularly towering. Besides, she didn’t want to be flustered and out of breath when she was seeing people.

Ruby feigned a bored yawn. “No sex and no wolves? Boooriiiiing.”

“Well, I think it’s wonderful.” A dreamy sigh slipped past her lips.

She’d never admit it out loud, but something about the hero of her novel, Detective Weaver, reminded her of the company’s senior partner, Mr. Gold. He was Regina’s second in command at the company, and the only executive on staff besides Regina. Besides being the general counsel, his specialty was terrorizing the team into doing their work. And if you weren’t a hard worker, he was positively terrifying. Last week, right before the team was dismissed for Christmas break, Ashley Boyd had run out of the office sobbing after she’d failing to complete next year’s advertising plan for the Storybrooke Community Bank. Fortunately, Belle was both talented and diligent. Not only did she complete all her projects on deadline, but she’d also helped land the company some of their most prestigious accounts. She wasn’t sure Gold liked her, exactly, but she knew he appreciated her work. Sometimes he was grouchy, but she figured his sour attitude was the product of loneliness. He’d been divorced for years and his son was away at college. While she had the company of her parents and plenty of friends, Gold appeared to live a solitary existence. Night after night, she imagined him wandering around his dark, rambling Victorian all alone. With nothing but empty rooms to look forward to, it was only natural he threw all his time and energy into work and spent 18 hours a day at his desk.

Or maybe she was simply making excuses because she had a huge, ridiculous crush on him.

“You’re in an awfully good mood.” Ruby punched the elevator button and smiled slyly. “Does this mean you’re gonna make a move on your work crush tonight? Maybe a New Year’s Eve midnight kiss?”

Belle’s stomach flipped at the thought of kissing Gold.

“Did you know according to German and English folklore, a New Year’s Eve kiss strengthens a budding romance?” she explained, dodging the question. “The first person you encounter in the New Year—and the nature of the encounter—sets the tone for your relationship for the next 365 days.”

“Did your Detective Weaver say that in your novel?” Ruby rolled her eyes and ushered her onto the elevator. “I can read you like a book, girl.”

“Ha! Shows how much you know.” She gave Ruby a triumphant smile. “It was in the January issue of Time magazine.”

Ruby snorted. “Whatever.”

Belle’s stomach jumped again as the elevator lurched and began a slow, lumbering climb. The ancient elevator box was affectionately known by the building’s inhabitants as the Dinosaur because it could take a full five minutes to get to the floor of your choice. The machine wasn’t dangerous, by any means, just slow. The old cliché about molasses in January definitely applied.

“You could have brought Archie along,” Belle said. Archie was Ruby’s latest boyfriend. Regina always encouraged them to bring a spouse or family member to the New Year’s Eve party, especially with the tradition of giving and receiving kisses at midnight.

Ruby shook her head. “Archie’s with his dad tonight. Marco’s under the weather. But why didn’t you bring a date?”

Belle blushed, imagining an angular face and whiskey brown eyes. Gold. Since Christmas Day, she’d thought of little else but seeing him here tonight. Cornering him at the office holiday party did seem a little desperate, but what choice did she have when he insisted on being all business all the time.

Gold eschewed most of their work outings—he’d already managed to dodge the pre-Christmas ice skating, hot chocolate bar, and Sunday afternoon charades and cookie exchange at Regina’s house, but the New Year’s Eve party wasn’t optional.

And this year Belle held a trump card: she was Gold’s Secret Santa, so he would be forced to acknowledge her in a personal way, even if only for a moment.

She’d traded with three people and bribed Killian Jones in order to finally get his name in the exchange. It had taken her weeks to land on the perfect present, but she’d done it. Something useful but personal to complement the expensive suits he was so fond of wearing—a new pair of cufflinks fashioned to look like stacks of antique books.

“Poor Marco.” Belle tsked, thinking of Archie’s elderly father. She should make it a point to bring him some chicken soup tomorrow. “I hope it’s nothing serious.”

Ruby narrowed her eyes. “It’s only a cold. And don’t change the subject. Your mystery crush does work here! That’s why you didn’t bring a date!”

Belle grinned and pretended to zip her lip.

“Come on.” Ruby stomped her foot and the Dinosaur groaned. “Your New Year’s resolution is to tell your work wife all about it.”

“Hmm.” Belle pretended to consider. “I don’t remember making any such resolution.”

Ruby tilted her head. “Is it Gaston?”

“No, won't be dating any chauvinist pigs this year. Next?”

“David Nolan?”

“He’s married!”

“So what? It happens.”

Belle rolled her eyes. “So I like Mary Margaret, I’m not a homewrecker, and he’s not my type.” “Regina?”

“She’s engaged! You do remember Emma used to be a bail bondswoman before she was sheriff? The New Year is just starting and I’d kinda like to be alive to enjoy it.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ruby held up her hand and admired freshly polished nails studded with tiny rhinestones. “Confession time, Belles. I’m bored with guessing.”

Belle bit her lip. Ruby had been after her to give up the identity of her crush for weeks and she was tired of keeping it to herself. “It’s Mr. Gold,” she blurted, butterflies exploding in her stomach as she finally admitted her feelings out loud.

Ruby gaped like a goldfish, her green eyes as round as the lush winter moon.

“Put that look away!” she ordered, hands on her hips. Her best friend’s shock hurt more than she expected and was putting her on the defensive fast.

“Belles-”

But Belle wasn’t having any arguments. “You’re telling me you don’t see it at all? Those tailored-to-fit-like-a-glove suits? That lopsided smile? And what about his soulful caramel eyes? They say so much about a person.”

“Well-”

“Mr. Gold is totally sexy!”

“Thank you very much for the compliment, Miss French,” said a dry, male voice. “But holiday bonuses have already been distributed. So you see; flattery will get you nowhere.”

Belle snapped her head to the front of the elevator. Somewhere in the middle of her passionate case in favor of Mr. Gold, the Dinosaur had arrived at their destination. The doors were open. Directly in front of her stood the man himself, leaning over his cane. He was wearing his blackest pinstripe suit and his blackest scowl to match.

“Ruby!” she hissed out of the corner of her mouth. “A warning would have been nice!”

“I tried to tell you,” Ruby whispered in her ear. “But there’s no predicting what the Dinosaur will do. Just act natural and head toward the bar.” Belle stepped out of the elevator to follow Ruby, but she caught her heel on the metal lip of the elevator. She toppled, falling toward Gold.

His arms flew out to steady her, his hands grasping her upper arms to keep her from smacking her face on the floor. The weighty warmth of his fingertips seemed to brand her through the fabric of her coat and dress, all the way down to her skin. Goosebumps broke out across her shoulders and neck and she caught her breath.

When she dared to look up into his face, his mouth was twisted like the red and white stripes of a candy cane. He released her like a retracting spring, stepping back as if he’d been burned. An awkward silence filled the air, punctuated by the ding and whoosh of the closing elevator doors.

Belle looked over her shoulder to glare at the Dinosaur. She was taking the stairs from now on, no matter how high her heels were.

Forty pairs of curious eyes were glued to their every move. She’d just announced to the entire office—not to mention Mr. Gold himself—that she thought he was sexy. A few of her co-workers were already suspicious about the handstands she’d done to be Mr. Gold’s Secret Santa. Now, not only did everyone know she had a massive crush on him; now they also knew the feeling was most definitely not mutual.

Her heart screamed like an approaching freight train and the pattern on the carpet danced in her head.

Was December 31st too late in the holiday season for a Christmas miracle? Because she could really use one now.

“C’mon, Gold.” David Nolan saddled up beside him carrying two cups filled with punch. He thrust one into Gold’s open hand, then jabbed a finger in the direction of his office. “Let me show me those proofs for the country club summer program. They’re due next week.”

“Oh, I don’t need to be reminded by you that we have a deadline, Nolan.” Lured away by the promise of completing a project, Gold allowed David to lead him toward the rows of offices lining the back end of their floor. David sent her a secret wink, and Belle breathed a sigh of relief. David was a good guy.

Maybe the evening could be salvaged after all.

But as Gold passed by, she caught a flash of metal on his wrist and her heart plummeted. He wasn’t wearing the antique book cufflinks she’d given him for the Secret Santa exchange. Instead, he wore a familiar pair of plain silver knots he’d worn at least once a week for the past two years. Not that she was keeping track of his wardrobe.

She’d gone from panicked to relieved to depressed in the span of thirty seconds. Gold didn’t like her gift and when the time came to reveal who everyone’s presents were from, she would look like a total idiot for the second time in one evening.

Tonight was shaping up to be the worst New Year’s Eve ever. Dejected, she slunk away in the direction of the refreshments.

Gold stood at his desk and flipped through the advertising artwork for the Storybrooke Country Club. “This looks fine,” he told David. “Brilliant, actually.

“Don’t thank me. Thank Belle,” David said with a smile. “Most of this was her doing.”

“Indeed.” He coughed, then wrapped his scarf around his neck. The last person he wanted to discuss was Miss French and her odd pronouncement on the elevator. He knew he wasn’t a bloody heartthrob—he owned a mirror for God’s sake—but hearing her poke fun at his looks was more painful than he could have imagined.

Such careless remarks he would have expected to come from the vapid Ashley Boyd or the brash Ruby Lucas, but Belle? Never. Belle cared about people. Apparently, he just wasn’t one of them. He massaged his eyes with his forefinger and thumb. Lord, he was tired.

“I’ve been at my desk 15 hours today. And now I’m off before the snow flies. See you next year, Nolan. Enjoy the evening.”

“Wait.” David stepped in front of him. “Why would you want to head home to an empty house when there are people here who want to spend time with you?”

“And what people would those be?” He barked a humorless laugh.

“Me, for starters. And I’m not the only one.” Nolan ran a hand through his hair. “You do see what’s going on here, don’t you?”

He tapped the folder holding the marketing prospectus and slid it into his briefcase. Nolan was a good director of advertising and the closest thing he had to a friend after Regina, but sometimes he could be a touch thick. “It’s a fairly simple ad campaign.”

“No, you knucklehead. I meant Belle. She likes you. I mean, really likes you. You heard her. Why else would she…” Nolan trailed off with a frown.

Gold could feel a flush creeping up his neck and was thankful his scarf was wrapped around his throat. Belle couldn’t possibly have meant it when she said he was...what was the word? Oh yes. Sexy. He set his teeth on edge. “Why else would she what?” he demanded.

“Nothing.” Nolan shoved his hands in his pockets. “Forget it. Just maybe try to enjoy yourself. Loosen your collar and have a drink. Or three. And stay until the Secret Santa reveal.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll think about it.” He wasn’t going to think about it. He hadn’t received a gift in the exchange. On Christmas Eve, long after everyone else had gone home, he’d looked under the tree for a present bearing his name. It was nowhere to be found. Considering the time, care, and expense he’d put into selecting his gift, reality came as an unexpected slap. Many times he’d heard the adage that it was better to give than to receive, but there was nothing more humiliating than publicly admitting you were so despised by your coworkers that your Secret Santa had neglected to even wrap up a crappy, polyester necktie.

For the hundredth time since Christmas, he chastised himself for caring. What did it matter? The Secret Santa exchange was just another one of Regina’s stupid holiday traditions. He was content to stay behind the scenes and let Regina have the limelight she craved.

Honestly, with her penchant for being adored and showing the team a good time, it was a wonder any work got done at all. Good thing he’d been here all these years to keep her on task. When she opened Regal Marketing during a snowstorm ten years ago this February 12, they’d had only one client—the Storybrooke Grocer. From there, thanks to him, they built the business together by helping businesses up and down Main Street, even moving several into online sales. Storybrooke was somewhat behind the times, but they were catching up with the rest of the world, again thanks to him.

“Are you done thinking about it yet?” Nolan took an impatient slurp of punch and gestured through his office door. “Belle’s been sitting in the corner alone for the past fifteen minutes looking like she lost her best friend. Have you ever known her to say a mean word about anyone?”

Gold peered through the glass. Belle was indeed holed up in the quietest corner of the office, wedged between the terrace doors and the old grandfather clock. She was nursing a cup of punch and balancing a plate of hors-d'oeuvres on her lap. If he didn’t know better, he’d say she was hiding. Usually, she was so animated he half-expected her auburn curls to catch on fire, but tonight she wasn’t talking or laughing with any of her friends.

“Go over there, man,” Nolan urged. “Talk to her.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, wavering. Seeing Belle look so sad tugged at what remained of the hollow old husk of his heart. “Perhaps I’ll wish her a Happy New Year on my way out.”

“There’s the spirit.” Nolan grinned and clapped him on the back.

Gold didn’t want to startle Belle again so he moved toward her slowly, the tap-tap-tap of his cane announcing his approach. He came to a stop a few feet away, folding his hands over the handle of his cane to observe her from the opposite side of the grandfather clock.

She was turned toward the balcony window and he could just make out the outline of her reflection in the darkened glass. She seemed to have folded herself into a sad little ball, unaware of the laughter and chatter swelling around her.

He cleared his throat. “Good evening, Belle.”

“Mr. Gold. Hi.” Her voice was small and void of enthusiasm and her clear blue eyes were downcast.

He winced, regretting his earlier quip outside the elevator about ingratiating herself for a larger bonus. Belle worked hard regardless of compensation and had proven herself time and again. Hadn’t she worked overtime the week before Christmas to perfect the country club’s new tagline? Perhaps he’d jumped to conclusions and wasn’t seeing the whole picture, as Nolan had suggested. There was only one way to know for sure. He pulled up the chair next to her and sat.

He cleared his throat and leaned his cane against the edge of the chair, realizing too late he should have asked permission before making himself comfortable. “Mind if I join you?”

“Of course not,” she said, but the wideness of her eyes seemed to shout what are you doing here?

Nonetheless, he persisted. Making her feel better suddenly seemed far more important than beating a hasty retreat to his dusty old house. “This isn’t like you, Belle. Why aren’t you having fun with the others?”

“Others?” Some of the staff had started line dancing to a country version of “Meet Me Under the Mistletoe,” but Belle gazed around the loud room like she didn’t even know she was in the middle of a party. “Oh. I guess I’m not really in the mood for a party anymore.”

The pained look she gave him stabbed him in the gut. “I see.”

“It’s my own fault.” She swiveled toward him so her knees collided with his thigh and she reached out to touch his shoulder lightly. A tingling rush swept down his arm at the feel of her fingers against his body and sweat beaded along his hairline. Clearly, he’d been staring at the computer screen for too long today. Besides, she was a tactile little thing—always hugging her coworkers. He tried to dismiss the jolt that passed between them. Certainly, everyone who touched her experienced this peculiar reaction.

“Mr. Gold, I’m so sorry about embarrassing you earlier. I didn’t mean to announce my feelings in front of everyone. Ruby...the Dinosaur...it all came tumbling out.” Her neck turned a mottled shade of pink and she forced out a breath that made the hair on her forehead fly up.

Feelings? Now it was his turn to stare. Hadn’t it all been a joke? He wanted to ask more questions about these feelings she’d reference, but his nerve had fled. “It’s no matter,” he said, waving the apology away.

Her frown bloomed into a smile, the tiny worry lines on her forehead smoothing. “Then you forgive me?”

He couldn’t help but smile at the giddy relief in her voice. Belle possessed such a sweet spirit and was one of the most genuine people he’d ever met. It was one of the reasons all their clients loved her. Forgiveness was easy. “Of course. Nothing to forgive, really.”

He began to stand, prepared to excuse himself and head home, but she caught his arm. Those strange, wonderful tingles returned, peppering his arms with goosebumps, and he held his breath. She would want to rejoin her friends and he had overstayed his welcome.

“Will you stay for a while longer?” she asked, looking as hopeful as a child on Christmas Eve. “It’s bad luck to be alone before midnight.”

“Is that so?” He arched a skeptical eyebrow but relaxed in the chair once more. Belle was smart and beautiful and likable, and if she wanted his company heading into the New Year, he would enjoy these few, fleeting moments and bask in the sunshine of her presence.

“Yes!” She leaned forward, warming up to an argument she had already won. “And what will Regina say if you leave? She’s gone through all this work to host a party and you can’t just walk out.”

“Ah yes, Saint Regina,” he quipped with a teasing wink. “Calling an event planner who handles the food and the decor is hardly a groundbreaking effort in the world of party planning. Besides, she can’t fire me for leaving a party. She’s known me too long.”

A dimple danced on Belle’s cheek, making his lips quirk at the corners. Her good humor was infectious and he made a show of stealing a slice of cucumber from her untouched plate of party food. Besides, the Secret Santa debacle wasn’t her fault. What did he need with another pair of ugly socks, anyway? When she rushed to offer him more snacks, he accepted a cracker and a square of cheddar cheese. He took a bite and she did the same, beaming at him around a mouthful of cheese. He couldn’t fathom how or why, but somehow he was improving her mood.

“Did you have a nice Christmas?” she asked. He swallowed the cucumber round and shrugged. She didn’t want to hear about his lonely little existence. Neal was busy with his studies and had decided to tackle an accounting internship between semesters rather than come home. He couldn’t blame his son for being driven especially since it was his father’s own workaholic example the boy was following. “Same as any other. You?”

“I did, but I was also a little preoccupied.” She broke a cookie, offering him half, and wiped the smattering of crumbs off her skirt. “You see, I’ve been looking forward to this New Year’s Eve party for weeks.”

“That’s natural,” he rushed to assure her, eager to focus on anything but himself. “The New Year can be an exciting time. Full of promise. You’re young, Belle. You have a life, plans, goals. Tonight represents a fresh start and a chance to see those things come to fruition.”

“You’re right,” she said. “But that’s not why I was excited. May I tell you? The truth?”

“Of course. ‘This above all; to thine own self be true,’” he quoted from Shakespeare. He couldn’t imagine where she was going with this.

She looked surprised. “Funny you should mention that. I was given a box of tea with inspirational quotes on the tags and that was one of them.”

“Intriguing,” he murmured, feeling his cheeks burn. Did she suspect who the tea had come from? “You were saying?” he prompted.

“Right. Sorry. Got off track.” She laughed nervously and her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, catching a blue sugar crystal from the cookie they’d been sharing. “It was because I was anxious for an excuse to see you.”

“Me?” His heart stuttered and he almost choked on his cookie. “Miss French, don’t you see enough of me five days a week?”

“No.” She shook her head. “We see each other, but we don’t talk unless it’s business.” She reached for his empty hand and laced their fingers together. “Wasn’t I Belle a moment ago?”

“I uh…Belle,” he corrected with a gulp while he stared down at their joined hands.

She fluttered long, ink-black eyelashes. “I like you. I want to know you. Not as my boss or someone I work with, but as a person. I want to know what you eat for breakfast, which authors are your favorites, whether you listen to music or talk radio in the car on the way to work.”

He was dumbfounded. No one except Neal had ever cared about his interests or preferences. And no one—not even his ex-wife—had ever looked at him the way Belle French was looking at him now. Under her gaze, he felt attractive, like he had something to offer beyond sage business advice and a primer on how to work one hundred hours a week.

When he saw himself reflected in her eyes, he didn’t hate the man he saw staring back.

“Have I completely shocked you?” she asked, the adorable worried crinkle reappearing between her eyes.

“Yes. No. Yes,” he croaked. She was still holding his hand and he squeezed her fingers, trying to communicate with his touch where words failed. “In the best way, Belle.”

“I’m so glad.” Her eyes shone she leaned closer and brushed her thumb over the corner of his lower lip. “You had a little cookie crumb,” she explained.

He looked at her mouth, fascinated by how her lips glistened in the low light. What might it be like to kiss those sweet lips when the grandfather clock chimed twelve tonight? The idea left him as breathless as if he’d just run a marathon.

She gestured toward the opposite corner of the office floor, where the Christmas tree stood sentinel over Regina’s office. “I’m sorry you weren’t a fan of your Secret Santa gift.”

“What do you mean?” He gaped at her. How did she know? “What present?”

“I know we aren’t supposed to reveal ourselves, but I guess it doesn’t make much difference at this point. It was me.” She shrugged. “I’m your Secret Santa.”

He shook his head slowly. “Belle, I’m sorry. I never…” Embarrassed, he trailed off, but what did it hurt to be honest with her now, especially when she’d shared her heart with him? “I thought I didn’t have one,” he confessed.

Her eyes widened. “Wait. Are you saying you never got your present?”

“That’s what I’m saying.” He sounded feeble, even to his own ears. Lonely, pathetic old man.

“But that’s impossible! Unless—” She shot up out of her chair and charged across the office toward the tree, determination in every step. A shiver of hope coursed through him and he followed her to the tree.

Belle knelt at the foot of the Christmas tree and picked around the fallen needles, her heart leaping with expectation. Gold hadn’t hated her gift. He simply never received it! The box was small, but it had to be here somewhere. She patted the area around the tree and sure enough, her fingers seized on a square, hard lump. She peeled back a corner of the tree skirt and there it was—her present for Mr. Gold.

She sat back on her heels and smiled down at the little package wrapped in red foil paper. Other than the slightly crumpled gold bow adorning the top of the box, it was no worse for wear.

“What are you doing on the floor, Belle?” Gold asked from behind her.

Still clutching the gift with one hand, she grinned up at him and accepted his proffered arm. “I found it!” Excited, she jumped to her feet and pressed the gift into his palms. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Gold.”

“For me?”

“Yes, for you!” Belle wished she had a camera to capture the expression of wonder reflected in his eyes. “This is your Secret Santa gift. It somehow got lodged underneath the tree skirt. Maybe when it was being watered? Anyway, mine was one of the first ones and it must have gotten lost. It was there the whole time.

“'Better three hours too soon—”

“—than a minute too late,'” she finished with a laugh. She was so excited she hopped up and down and clapped. “Shakespeare again! Will you open it now? Please?”

Together, they stood beside the tree while he tore into the paper and opened the box. He grinned down at the little cufflinks, tracing the outline of one with a fingertip. “Why, Belle, these are extraordinary. Thank you.”

“Then you do like them?” She clasped her hands together, feeling like a little girl who’d received a bicycle on Christmas morning. “They’re old books. If you look closely, one of them is a volume of Shakespeare.”

“So it is! They’re wonderful. Would you put them on me, sweetheart?” He held out his arms with his wrists turned up.

Sweetheart. The endearment had her heart beating wildly in her chest. “I would love to.”

Careful not to pinch him, she removed his plain silver cufflinks and replaced them with the new ones. She brushed her fingers over the pulse-point on his wrist, flattered when it seemed to be a little quicker than average. It thrilled her to know she wasn’t the only one affected by their closeness.

When she finished locking the second cufflink into place, he held onto her hands and kissed her palms, one at a time, his eyes burning into hers while his soft lips warmed her flesh. “I’ll cherish them always,” he said huskily. Not only were the cufflinks far and away the best Secret Santa gift he’d ever received, but there was also the gift of Belle herself, who in two short hours had made him feel cared for in a way he hadn’t been in years. Maybe even never.

Arm in arm, they returned to their chairs in the corner and nibbled on another plate of snacks. For the next hour, the rest of the world fell away and they focused on nothing and no one but each other.

“Fifteen minutes till midnight,” Belle observed when Regina and Mary Margaret Nolan began to pass out sparkling hats and decorative noisemakers.

“So it is.” He nodded, feeling selfish for taking up so much of her time. “Would you like to join the others?”

“Let’s not.” She touched her fingers to the sliding glass door that led out onto the ocean-facing terrace. “Let’s ring in the New Year together under the stars—just the two of us.”

He suppressed a thrilled shiver, loving the way she automatically included him in her plans. With Belle it was never “I,” it was always “we.” Suddenly the lonely New Year’s Eve he expected to face had been transformed into something enchanted and sweet.

“What about the Secret Santa reveal? Don’t you want to know who your gifts are from?” Gold’s smile was mischievous.

“I have a feeling I already know,” she said, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for all of my presents. They were wonderful.”

“How did you figure me out?” he asked, opening the sliding glass door and gesturing for her to proceed him onto the terrace.

She threw a wink over her shoulder. “Tonight’s inspirational Shakespeare quotes matching up with the tea I was gushing over? Kind of a giveaway. And you have a lousy poker face.”

He laughed and followed her outside. The sea air was crisp and fresh, and high above the waves, the stars twinkled as bright as peppermints. The winter wind was more like a gentle breeze, giving away nothing of the impending snowstorm. Gold removed his overcoat and settled it around Belle’s bare shoulders, then tied the scarf in his pocket around her neck. He stood behind her, lending her the warmth of his body while he buttoned the coat.

“Perhaps,” he whispered in her ear, enjoying the way she shivered at his touch. He grasped her earlobe between his fingers and gave it a teasing tug. “Or perhaps I wanted you to guess it was me. Luck of the draw, sweetheart."

“Not for me!” She whirled around and poked a finger at his chest, pretended to be outraged. “I’ll have you know, Mr. Gold, I was forced to trade names and bribe people to earn my position as your Secret Santa!”

“Belle, be serious.” She’d traded with other co-workers to get his name? The number of surprises he was trying to wrap his head around tonight was staggering.

“I am being serious! I had to agree to take the Zelena Mills account off Killian Jones’ hands before he would let me have your name! People like you more than you might think. Give them a chance to get to know you. Maybe even attend one or two of Regina’s famous icebreakers?”

He grinned. “Zelena Mills? You must really like me.”

She swatted his arm then turned toward the water again. He drew her back against his chest and pondered her advice.

He’d never thought of relationships this way; that the people he worked with could become his friends or that he could even date someone who worked for him. He’d always believed keeping his business and his personal lives separate was best, a major point of contention between him and Regina. She knew of his failings with his ex-wife, and so they agreed to disagree.

In the past, opening himself up to know and be known had only brought heartache. Yet in the span of a single evening, Belle showed him that his life could be more than a cautionary tale. If he opened his heart he could have friendship, maybe even love.

All he had to do was follow Belle’s example and be brave. He wasn’t quite ready to step off the elevator and declare his feelings in front of the entire office, but he could manage to ask her out on a date or even hold her hand at Regina’s next office adventure.

“Will you help me be a better man, sweetheart?” he murmured against the side of her neck.

“Mmmhmmm.” Belle let her eyes flutter closed with a contented sigh, welcoming the warmth of his arms around her. “Since it’s going to be a new year soon, would it be alright if I call you Darach from now on?” She felt his nod against her hair and smiled.

It was too dark to see the beach, but from their vantage point on the seventh floor, she could hear the ocean waves crashing against the jagged rocks while the sweet, minty fragrance of the night air tickled her nose

From inside, she heard Regina over the microphone beginning the one-minute countdown to midnight. Gold pulled out his pocket watch and they peered at it together in the dim terrace lighting.

Fifteen seconds until the New Year. Belle’s heart pounded with anticipation and she pressed her forehead against his. “Will you count it down for us?”

“Here we go,” he began in that husky timbre that would make reading from a telephone book magical. “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.”

Through the glass, the grandfather clock rang out the hour of midnight and time stood still. Inside, the festivities paused for a fleeting moment to listen and reflect as one year became the next. Belle lifted her chin, closing the small distance between them. As the last stroke of the clock died into silence, their breaths mingled and their lips met. She sighed into the kiss while his arms tightened around her back, the twin pleasures of his lips against hers and his strong arms holding her making her blood sing.

When they parted, noisemakers were announcing the start of the New Year, confetti was flying, and Belle savored the joyful shouts of her friends before they launched into a happy chorus of “Auld Lang Syne.”

For auld lang syne, my jo For auld lang syne. We’ll tak’ a cup o’ kindness yet. For auld lang syne. “Darach?”

“Hmm?”

She squeezed his waist. “Your eyes are still closed.”

“’Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,’” he quoted, then opened his eyes and treated her to a sheepish smile. “Eggs over easy, Shakespeare, and classical music. She blinked at him. “Sorry, what?"

“I believe those are the answers to your questions from earlier.” He nuzzled her cheek. “My favorite breakfast, author, and morning radio preference.”

She giggled, then grabbed his lapels and hauled him against her for another kiss.

“Happy New Year, Darach,” she whispered. “It is a Happy New Year, isn't it?" he asked, and the smile he gave her was something she knew she would never forget—not this year or in all the years to come.

-fin-

Notes: The office grandfather clock, in Regina’s family for three generations, was a gift from her father, Henry when she opened the company.

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #mr. gold x belle french #new year's fic #christmas fic #marie's gift to the fandom #rumbelle fluff #cufflinks #mqc writes

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sunyoonandstars · 6 years

Text

✨Linked✨ || BTS Soulmate AU Series || You x !Soulmate! Yoongi || Part 23 | FINAL CHAPTER

Text/Social Media/Narrative Series || Soulmate & College AU

Previous Part | Next Part

LINKED MASTERLIST

“According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves.”

― Plato, The Symposium

Credit goes to the incredible @789cream for creating this beautiful mood board for my series. Thank you so much, my love!

🎶 PLAYLIST 🎶

Pairing You x Soulmate! Yoongi

Word count 8.362

‘siblings’, according to age: Namjoon, Jimin, y/n, Taehyung (you grew up living in the same foster home as implied in earlier parts of this series)

angst, fluff

!WARNINGS! mentions of violence/injury, blood, hospitals, death, grief and funerals

A/N: Don’t let this scare you off, though. I promise, nothing is what it seems. You’re in for quite a few plot twists ...

Previously, on ‘Linked’…

Eventually, after years of successfully having avoided it, you have come across your soulmate. An ominous stranger of whom you know no more than the back of his head, his phone number and that he works as a part-time barista at your (former) favorite coffee shop.

Having been pressured by a friend into contacting him, things start to get complicated. Because your heart already belongs to another. And, haunted by the ghosts of your past, the last thing you want is for your soul to find its one, true, destined mate.

After texting back and forth for days with the man only known to you as your ‘Soulmate’, you are forced to break contact since he is starting to get too close and your boyfriend Jimin is anything but pleased with that. When your paths, however, cross, the ominous ‘Suga’, as he calls himself, refrains from revealing his true identity to you - which would mean an instant link of souls and the end of his torture - and, instead, is set on making his way into your life the right way.A fateful accident at your workplace is followed by a visit to the emergency room and a falling out with your boyfriend, Jimin, leading you to turn to a virtual stranger for comfort. A whole day you spend with the mysterious Suga who’s familiarity is an enigma to you. Until his true identity is revealed and things quickly turn sour, starting to snowball from then on, the events sending you into a rapid downward spiral. Until, by some twist of fate, your paths cross once more …

CHAPTER 23

"So, he basically proposed to you? In his kitchen? Out of nowhere?" Taehyung asks, for the second time already. He looks at you from across the table, his long fingers absentmindedly playing with the straw of his vanilla frappuccino. The drink is so cold, the cup keeps collecting drops of condensed water, sparkling like gemstones in the coffee shop's artificial lighting. You watch them make their way to the table top as you respond to your brother's inquiry without meeting his curious glance.

"Yes," you repeat your answer. "Yoon asked me to marry him."

"And you –?" He questioningly raises a brow.

"I freaked. I panicked. I literally ran away. I wasn't even wearing shoes. I still have blisters."

"Wow," Taehyung snickers. "I'm impressed, y/n. Your setting new standards. This is just a little over the top, even for yourself."

"I know," you whimper as you slide down in your seat and lean forward, placing your forehead on the table, your blushing face now hidden by a messy curtain of hair. "I'm mortified, Tae. How can I ever face him again?"

"I don't know. How long has it been since you last saw him?"

"Two days."

"Two days? And you haven't talked since, well, your highly dignified exit?"

"No. No word,“ you state, sitting back up again.

"And why did you say he proposed to you? Just like that?"

"It wasn't for no reason," you sigh as you sit back up. "He got a letter. From the Ministry of Family Planning. A Final Notice. Because he didn't finalize the Link. Which is basically my fault. But it seems they're holding him responsible for it. So, I don't know. We either have to link or get married or something. Which is why he proposed, sort of."

"Wow. Okay."

"What's that supposed to mean? I know that expression, Taehyung. You're judging me right now."

"Well, of course, I am. I mean, you're soulmates," he scoffs. "I really don't get what's so difficult about this, y/n. He's your soulmate, and his love for you goes even beyond the Link. I can tell. And you have feelings for him, too, obviously. And deep ones at that, I'd say. So, what more does it require for you to say 'Yes' and let things follow their natural flow?"

"If only things were that easy," you grumble, more to yourself, as you withdraw your hands into the sleeves of your sweater. Yoon's sweater, actually. His signature scent still inhabits the heavy fabric. You can feel your insides twist at the thought of him, the memory of his warmth, his embrace.

"Why must you always make things unnecessarily difficult for yourself?" Taehyung shakes his head in apparent frustration. "Why complicate this matter when it's actually so easy, the most natural thing of all? Just give in and link with him already. Go to him and do it, right now."

"I can't."

"What? That's bullshit."

"No. It's not, Tae. It's a fact. He wouldn't allow it. Yoon wants us to be real. A real couple, with real feelings. He wanted me to prove to him that I could do it without the Link. That I would still stay. And I got that. I respected that. And messed up. You know, part of me still hoped every single day for him to just tell me his full name and get it over with. Because I was scared, Tae. Really fucking scared. And now it's too late."

There it is again. That tremor in your voice and hands, the flutter of your heart. Merely thinking about Yoon and the drastic turn your last meeting took towards its end instills sheer terror into each and every fiber of your being. Taehyung must have noticed because one of his hands instinctively reaches out to cover yours, its warmness grounding, making it a little easier for you to breathe.

"Scared of what, y/n?" he asks, the sound of his deep voice, low and tender, a welcome distraction from the noise inside and around you.

You made the right choice in seeking out your brother, you now realize. Once more he proves to be the steady rock you learned to hold onto whenever the storm within threatened to overwhelm you. Your bastion of calm. A kindred soul wise beyond its age. Taehyung understands. He always does. Because the two of you aren't all that different. Now you see that you were wrong to have avoided him for these past few days. Taehyung wouldn't have judged you. He never does. Does he?

"You can tell me, y/n. What were you so afraid of if it wasn't the Link itself?"

“I was scared of the way he makes me feel, Tae,“ you eventually admit.

"Of growing too attached, too dependent. Too fond of him. Of being hurt. Of being left. Of being without him," you barely manage to croak out, struggling to blink back tears. "You know, Yoon makes me feel whole. He makes it so easy for me to let loose, to actually be myself around him, around other people. He makes me feel safe and vulnerable at the same time. And he makes me forget the pain, the sadness, my fears. When I'm with him. But the second I'm not, it all comes crashing down on me, and I get scared. What if he leaves me? For good? What if things don't work out in the end? Or if he, you know – Like my dad. If he –"

"Dies?"

"Yes. What the hell am I supposed to do then? How will I live? Once I let him in for good, once he's in there –" You point to your heart. "How will I survive and who will I be after he's gone?"

"I don't know. Nobody ever does."

"Right. And it's fucking scary."

"Of course it is." Taehyung's calloused thumb keeps on rubbing the back of your hand while he talks, his expression serious. "But ... Have you told him all this? Have you told Yoon about the way you feel for him? About your fears? Because, knowing you, I have a feeling you didn't."

"Of course I didn't."

"See, that's your first mistake. If you feel like that about a person, you need to tell them, y/n. Communication is key. You could be feeling a hell of a lot better right now if you had talked things over with him instead of me. And instead of just, you know, running, like you always do."

"Yeah, I know I screwed up, okay?" You pull back your hand to playfully punch Taehyung in the ribs. "It just happened so quickly. All I heard were the words 'Marriage' and 'Link' and 'Children' and I freaked. Hell, I don't even know if I want children yet. After what happened with my parents – I don't know if I could risk putting my child through something similar."

With a defeated groan, you let your head drop back down to the tabletop, tearing at your hair until Taehyung gently stops you by taking your hands into his own.

"But aren't those the thoughts and doubts we all have to face when considering to build a family?" he asks, the sound of his voice almost drowned out by the ringing in your ears.

Deep breaths, y/n. Deep breaths.

"Yeah. I guess," you sigh as you sit back up, provisionally fixing your disheveled hair as good as you can without a mirror in sight. "But Yoon's words just flipped a switch inside of me, Tae. Like, I literally panicked. I couldn't breathe, and then those nasty things just came pouring from my lips, and I don't even remember exactly what I said. It was like an out-of-body experience. I watched myself break his heart, and I couldn't even do anything about it. It was as if my protective instincts just entirely took over. I felt like a cornered deer or something. Trapped, blindsided. Like my whole world was being turned upside down, and I couldn't stop falling. Like, seriously, Tae. What did he expect me to say? Yes!?" You scoff, feeling your heart rate quicken again as you relive those agonizing minutes spent in Yoon's kitchen. "One second, we barely make it as a couple, and the next he asks me to spend the rest of my life with him?"

"Well, would you?"

"Would I what?"

"Spend the rest of your life with him? Can you see yourself doing that?"

"I – I don't know."

"You must know, deep down."

"I – I guess so. I mean. Yes. If I would have to spend the rest of my life with one single person, it would definitely be Yoon. That's for sure."

"Well, you better tell him that, y/n. Right now. Like, literally. Right this second."

You don't like your brother's tone. For some reason, it sends an icy shiver down your spine.

"Why? You sound pretty urgent, Tae. What is it? What aren't you telling me?"

"Y/n, I don't know if it is my place to tell you, but I'm afraid Yoon lied to you. Or at least he kept part of the truth to himself."

Taehyung flinches as your grip on his hands tightens.

"What the hell are you talking about, Tae? What did he keep from me?"

"Well." He inhales deeply as if he is bracing himself for a punch to the gut.

"Actually, there are not two, but three options the Ministry leaves people like him with. One, establish the Link no matter what or how. Two, get married first and ease, but still finalize the Link later, within a year. Or three." He pauses, holding your gaze, the look in his eyes frighteningly grave. "Get 'treated'. Meaning, Yoon will have to see a 'specialist' at the Ministry who will give him some kind of serum that will lead to a change in his DNA. He will no longer be linked to you but will be assigned a new Soulmate matching his DNA and the required criteria. The people at the Ministry will then proceed to erase his memory of you so he can have the life he was designated to live, based on his genetic code and his predetermined role in society."

"Wait. You're kidding me, right? They can't possibly do that."

"Yes, they can. And I know that for a fact. Nana works for the Ministry, you know. She tells me about these things sometimes. Heartbreaking stories."

"You're bullshitting me right now, aren't you?"

"No, I'm not, y/n." Taehyung slowly shakes his head, his expression unchanged. "It's true. And it's been done a lot of times. Did wonders for the suicide rate. It dropped by seventy percent ever since they legalized Erasure."

"How did I not know about this?" You can feel your throat grow tighter by the second.

"I guess this is knowledge parents are supposed to pass on to their children. Since you grew up in foster homes, this kind of information most likely got lost along the way in your case."

"Why don't they teach this in school?"

"They do. But I changed schools a lot before the Kim family took me in. You did, too, right? You were moved around a lot. So, you probably missed it."

"Shit. You're right. But Yoon must have known."

"I'm sure he did. And most likely assumed you know, too – or was hoping you didn't. One of the two."

"Fuck."

"And as far as I know, he must have already informed the Ministry of his decision. To abandon the Link. Because the party having received the Final Notice is usually required to report back to the Ministry within 48 hours. And keep the next possible appointment for Erasure. Which would be the first Wednesday of every month. Which would be –" A gasp escapes Taehyung's parted lips with one look at his wristwatch. "– today."

"Shit," you soundlessly breathe, sensing a numbing cold take hold of your limbs.

"The Ministry opens at nine in the morning. Now it's half past nine, so, Yoon's either on his way there or already inside, waiting for his number to be called. Maybe you can make it there in time if you run. It's not far. Just, like, fifteen minutes walking distance," you can hear Taehyung talk through the steadily thickening fog that threatens to smother you.

"Y/n? Can you hear me? You will have to hurry because the procedure is being performed on the subjects at minute intervals, for efficiency reasons. There's not a lot of talking involved, and he will already have filled out all the documents beforehand. Meaning, you should go. Now."

"Subjects? Efficiency?" you sneer, tears clouding your vision as you pull your hand from Taehyung's grasp. "What kind of fucked up world do we live in? We're talking about people here, Taehyung, about lives. How can Nana work for this government?"

"Y/n, calm down."

"The hell I won't!" you cry out, rising from your seat so abruptly, your chair falls to the ground with an ear-splitting bang. Heads are turning now, but you couldn't care less. "They can't do that! They can't just erase me like that. They –"

"Y/n," Taehyung continues in slowly getting up, his tone placating and one slender hand reaching out in a reassuring manner. "Please, calm down. You're making a scene."

"Of course I am. Because this is wrong. And everybody should know that. It's just wrong. They can't take that away from him. From us. Nobody has the right to just erase feelings, to erase a whole person from somebody's mind."

"You brought this on yourself, y/n. I'm not saying the government is right. I'm not saying they should handle these matters the way they do. But, think hard. Weren't you the one who kept pushing Yoon out of your life? Didn't you wish you had never met him?"

"That was ages ago, Tae. So much has changed since then. I love him. I fucking love him more than anything, okay!?"

"Exactly," Taehyung now smiles to your great confusion. "Exactly, y/n. That's what I wanted to hear. You love him. You really do. And he loves you. But that's the problem. That's what put you on the government's radar in the first place." He lowers his voice. "People like you and Yoon, you're deviations. You're dangerous. So, of course, they'd keep a close eye on you. And they will definitely see to it that Yoon gets paired up nicely with some dull little girl who will be a reliable housewife and give him a handsome child. And, soon, – give it a few days – you will find a letter in your mail, too, y/n. That's what they do. They fix you. The government. They fix people like you. They realize they've made a mistake in Linking you and Yoon, and now they wanna reverse it. Because the two of you are proof that the system is flawed. That love can't be controlled. And you should take pride in that. I sure as hell hope none of their spies are listening in right now, but I say screw them. Go show those people that you don't give a fuck about their rules. Break them. Break the system. Go get your man."

You're out the door before Taehyung gets to finish his sentence.

Sports were never your strong suit, running least of all. Nonetheless, you sprint down the street as if you were running for your life. Storefronts and faces keep rushing past you, and all you can hear is the sound your own heavy breathing combined with your rapidly pounding heartbeat.

You can't be late. You simply can't be.

This can't be it. You refuse to believe that.

No. You're going to be on time. You will be on time. And no one can stop you now. Not even your cowardly yourself.

Panting, your burning lungs desperately longing for air, you stop at a red traffic light, so eager to keep moving, the Ministry already in sight, that you almost consider crossing the broad main street despite the raging rush hour traffic. You can feel your blood burn through its vessels, urging you to go to him, to go to Yoon. To tell him that you want him to be yours for life. When the light finally turns green, your legs can't seem to carry you fast enough. Just about two hundred more yards separate you from the crowded plaza in front of the ministry building that towers over the surrounding boulevards like a fortress made entirely of white marble. The golden morning sun bouncing off its ivory walls and polished windows is blinding you, giving this architectural atrocity an air of divine superiority and innocence. What a shameless lie.

Struggling for breath, you come to a full stop in the middle of the plaza, searching the surge of people swarming to the building's pompous entryway for a familiar face. But you can't spot Yoon anywhere. Your heart already starts dropping, the fear that you are too late after all, that he is already inside and you lost him for good, weighing on it like a boulder when your eyes eventually meet his. For a few seconds, you forget how to breathe, how to exist, and time itself seems to come to a halt.

No way.

But it really is him. And Yoon stops cold in his step, staring at you in utter disbelief, his incredulous expression a reflection of your own.

People keep moving on around you like a ceaseless stream, but none of them matter. Nothing matters but him. Yoon. Your soulmate. Right there, mere steps away. In your reach.

Everything is going to be okay.

You will be with him.

The hint of a smile begins tugging at the corner of Yoon's mouth as he turns toward you, taking a first step in your direction.

You can't believe it. You made it. You actually made it.

This moment seems almost too good to be true. And in horror, you realize that it is indeed. Too good to be true.

Too late, you recognize the imminent danger, notice the truck advancing at full speed out of the corner of your eye.

The vehicle plows into the throng of people without slowing down, the sound of the crash being followed by an ear-splitting explosion and screams of pain and terror tearing through the brisk morning. The blast wave sends you staggering to the ground. For a split second, you black out. When you regain consciousness, you are surrounded by chaos.

Names are being called. Lifeless bodies are lying on top of each other, faces distorted by agony.

Almost nobody was left standing. The entire plaza is covered with future corpses.

And Yoon has disappeared.

It takes you a few seconds to break free from your paralysis. Eventually, you regain limited control over your limbs and can see yourself moving towards the spot where you last saw Yoon. The hollow ringing, caused by the explosion, does not leave your ears. It nearly drowns out the shouts for help and outcries of agony coming from all directions.

Blood. And so much of it.

Blood is everywhere. People, thrown on top of each other like broken dolls, their arms and legs bent in unnatural angles. A sudden surge of overwhelming nausea forces you to your knees.

Pain. So much pain. Death all around you.

Why? How? What happened?

Your brain can't process the images your eyes absorb, gruesome scenes that burn themselves into your mind for life.

You don't think, you act. Almost automatically, you keep scanning the square for Yoon, his face, his hair, the shirt he wore. Anything you might be able to recognize him by.

Stranger's hands are grabbing at your legs. The injured keep begging for your help, and it troubles you to leave them behind, but you have to know. If the searing pain on the inside of your wrist and the vague, harrowing sensation taking up your chest mean what you think they do. That Yoon is still breathing, fighting for his life, out there somewhere in this horrible mess.

"Yoon!" you call out his name, again and again, until your throat is sore.

Tears start clouding your vision, turning everything into a bloody blur.

You keep stumbling, falling over lifeless bodies. The sickly sweet, metallic stench of death rises to your nose, sending you staggering, vertigo almost overpowering your will to keep going.

No. No. This isn't right. Yoon can't be dead. He can't be. He isn't. You have to keep moving. You have to find him.

And eventually, you do.

An outcry of relief breaking free from your painfully constricted chest, you drop to your knees next to him who is struggling to move out from under a dismembered corpse.

"You're alive," you sob, carefully pushing the dead body off Yoon's legs. His plaid shirt is drenched in thick, red blood. Not his, you hope, no, pray.

"Barely," he coughs, cherry-colored liquid dropping from his pale lips.

No. No. No.

"Don't move," you urge him, scooting closer so you can carefully place his head in your lap. "You shouldn't speak. We don't know where exactly you're injured."

You try hard to hold back the tears, to be strong for Yoon, calm. But the sight of him makes it almost impossible for you to do so.

His beautiful face is covered in scratches and bruises. A horrendous gash stretches across his pallid forehead, just beneath the hairline, and his left arm seems to be broken, his hand already having turned an unsightly blue.

Now that he rests in your embrace, Yoon's trembling body seems to relax at least a little, easing into your arms. Lips pressed together to hold in another sob, you watch his eyelids flutter shut.

"Yoon? Stay awake, will you?"

He hums in response.

"Can you tell me where you're hurt?"

"Well, here ... for ... starters," he scoffs, using his right hand to point to his left side. Only now do you notice the piece of metal penetrating his body, right where his left lung must be situated.

"Don't look, y/n. I did and I ... almost ... puked."

"I said no talking, idiot," you hiss, gently pressing down on the wound around the piece of what could once have been a piece of the nearby steps' banister in an effort to keep his lifeblood from seeping out. You don't know how much more Yoon can afford to lose in his weakened state. Judging by the color of his skin, not much.

He needs to get to a hospital. Now.

Every second passing seems to stretch into an hour as you strain your ears hoping to pick up the sound of approaching sirens. But nothing. Not yet.

Hurry, you silently pray.

"You ... asked," Yoon coughs, a worrying wheeziness to his voice.

"And you answered. Now, shush."

It's so warm. The blood. His blood. Running through your fingers and with it valuable minutes of his life, one after the other. And there's nothing you can do but wait. Wait and hope.

"Why ... are you here, y/n?"

Yoon struggles to open his eyes, his face white as a sheet at this point. His question comes unexpectedly. For a few seconds, you simply stare at him, mouth agape, petrified, as he patiently awaits your reply, looking up at you out of glassy eyes.

"Well," you stammer, struggling to regain your composure. "To tell you. That I love you."

His eyes grow slightly wider.

"It's –"

"Yeah, I know. This is the first time I actually said it," you cut him off.

"Happy now?" you snivel, a first tear breaking your rigorously maintained barriers. "You know, I thought I would just call you in a few days, and we could maybe talk everything over, find common ground. I didn't know this would happen."

Yoon takes a shaky breath. You can feel his body shiver in your grasp.

"Well, we don't ... always ... get second chances."

"Shush. Shut your mouth. You're bleeding. I said no more talking."

You can tell he has a snappy comeback ready for you on the tip of his tongue, but fatigue seems to get the better of him before it gets a chance to leave his lips. Instead, he coughs up blood again. A sight that lets your heart skip a beat and sends an icy shiver down your spine.

No. No. No. This can't be happening. He's gonna make it. He has to.

"Damn. I didn't picture our next meeting like this, you know. Not at all," you start talking, fear loosening your tongue, leading the words to gush out against your will, without rhyme or reason, while hot tears stream down your cheeks. "This, this is fucked up. This can't be happening. It shouldn't. This is not how it was supposed to go. You're innocent. You – You never did anything wrong. This is all my fault. I'm the one who should be lying here."

"Don't … say that," Yoon frowns, his voice barely a whisper.

Finally, you can hear sirens closing in.

"But I mean it, Yoon. If I could, I'd take your place. But I can't, and it's killing me." You are cut short by a wave of violent sobs. "I'm – I'm sorry, Yoon. So sorry. Jeez, when is this fucking ambulance gonna get here?"

Unable to withstand Yoon's scrutinizing glance, you take a look around, pretending to search the scene for any signs of paramedics before your eyes eventually find his again.

"Stop it. None of this ... is ... your fault ... y/n. You ... didn't drive that truck ... did you?"

"No," you laugh through tears. "Of course not."

"See?" Just the hint of a smug smile now curves Yoon's pale lips that are covered with a film of dark red blood. His eyes stay closed. Not a good sign.

"I can't believe you," you shake your head. "How are you smiling right now?"

"Because ... I made you ... laugh."

"You're unbelievable. Seriously." You can hear the first ambulance arrive, car doors being slammed shut, steps approaching, tense voices shouting instructions. The police are at the scene just seconds after. It's just a matter of time now before help will be here. And before they take Yoon away from you, you realize, a thought that fills you with utter dread.

What if you never get to see him again? What if this is it?

"Yoon, help is gonna be here any moment now. But before the paramedics get here –– Please, tell me your name."

"No. Let's not ... do this ... right now," he frowns, not opening his eyes.

"But we may not get another chance. And I don't care if you die or not. Which you won't, obviously. I want it. The Link. Now," you insist. "Please, Yoon. I want my soul to be bound to yours eternally. No, I don't just want it to be. I need it to be. One with yours. Yoon, I really do. I'm not just saying this, I swear."

"But that ... would be ... cruel," he whispers, his voice barely audible, dark brows drawn together.

"I don't care. I know what I'm getting into. I said I want it and I do. Please, Yoon. This is my decision. Tell me your name," you beg, fighting to keep your voice steady.

Slowly, Yoon opens his eyes, obviously struggling to keep them open as his gaze locks with yours.

"I ... could never ... do that to you."

"You aren't," you assure him, placing one hand on Yoon's cold cheek. It feels unfamiliar to your touch. Not warm and comforting, but delicate. You can literally watch the life drain from his papery skin. Nonetheless, he looks beautiful. So beautiful it hurts. A fallen angel, gradually fading.

"You aren't doing anything to me, Yoon. This is my choice. And I already know that I love you. I love you more than anything. And, whatever happens, I will always love you. All my life, I was so fucking scared I would never be able to say this with confidence. To say this and actually mean it. But I can now."

You pause, inhaling deeply to catch your breath.

"I know I'm a little late. And I'm sorry it took me so long to admit it. But I love you, Yoon." Smiling, you look down at him through a blur of tears. "And it would be my honor to spend the rest of my life by your side. As your Soulmate."

One last, gleaming smile lights up Yoon's features that are so unbelievably graceful even in their current state before his eyes shut and his head falls back –– just when his lips were about to part and, lastly, carry his full name to your ears. You can feel his body go limp in your hold.

No.

"No. No. Yoon! Yoon? Can you hear me? Can you –"

"I'm sorry, Miss, but we're gonna have to take your friend with us, now," a medic explains as he gently pushes you aside, two more of them cautiously lifting an unconscious Yoon onto a stretcher.

"No pulse," one of them comments after checking Yoon's vitals.

Everything past this point is a blur.

It feels as if you were pushed into cold water, freezing over and trapping you underneath a massive layer of ice, helpless, drowning. Numb.

You can't even remember how you got here as you anxiously pace the grey linoleum floor of some hospital's colorless corridor. Your heart is racing and so is your mind.

Yoon. He is all you can think about.

They have been operating on him for hours now. How many, you can't say. Too many, that's for sure.

"Y/n, please sit down for a bit and have some water." Gently, Namjoon grabs you by your shoulders, bringing your manic wandering to a sudden end. "You need to rest."

"No!"

Of course, your feeble attempts at resistance are in vain. You never stood a chance against Namjoon. Not even back when you were still kids, squabbling with one another for kicks and giggles. But this, this is different. Right this instant, Namjoon's steady grasp is the only thing standing between you and literal, physical collapse, and you are infinitely grateful for his soothing presence.

Almost willingly, you allow him to guide you to a row of chairs and place you in the seat next to Taehyung's. Without lifting his gaze from his worn out black Converses, Taehyung pulls you close and puts your head on his shoulder, resting his own against your forehead.

"He'll be all right," he then whispers, his voice unwavering, bearing no trace of doubt. "I know he will."

"Here." Namjoon has a sad try at a smile as he offers you a paper cup filled to the brim with water. "I can get you more if you'd like."

"No, thanks. I think I'm good for now," you say after emptying it in one gulp, fighting the urge to throw it all up again.

"Do you want something to eat?" Seokjin asks, leaning over from his seat. "I could get you a sandwich."

"No, thanks."

You struggle to hold in tears, burning in your eyes like acid.

"Give her a break," Taehyung growls. "She isn't hungry, okay? Her soulmate is lying on the operation table right now, fighting for his life. Jesus."

You want to thank him but can't seem to find your voice.

"Sorry," Namjoon and Seokjin apologize. You merely manage a nod of your head in response.

"What's going on? Who's dying?" a breathless Jungkook comes to a slithering hold before you, panting heavily, beads of sweat coating his face.

"No one," Taehyung answers in your stead.

"What?" Jungkook frowns. "I thought –"

"Y/n's soulmate is currently being operated on," Namjoon calmly explains.

"Oh. Oh. I'm – I'm so sorry, y/n."

You can only imagine that Taehyung must have darted a deadly glance at him because Jungkook suddenly falls quiet and takes a seat next to him.

"– the Ministry of Family Planning where a gruesome terrorist attack took place just this morning," you can hear some news anchor's voice coming from the waiting room's television. Involuntarily, you lift your head and crane your neck to get a better look at the screen. You flinch as pictures of the crime scene appear, stirring up memories of death and destruction you wish you didn't have to live with.

"Could you turn that off, please? Or switch to another channel?"

Namjoon tries to keep his voice low as he bends over the counter and talks insistently to the nurse sitting behind the close-by reception desk, urging her to change the program, a plea she seems unwilling to succumb to.

"Please. My sister was there today, at the scene. And I'm sure being forced to relive her trauma won't make her feel any better."

"I'm sorry, young man," she responds in a tone that brooks no dissent. "But I'm afraid this is the only channel we get. And, quite frankly, operating the waiting room television does not fall within my jurisdiction. Besides, I have far more important matters to attend to. So, if you would please return to your seat, Sir. There's nothing I can do for you."

All the while, Namjoon keeps peeking over his shoulder, checking on you, his expression apologetic. As if all of this was somehow his fault. But none of it is. Because it's all on you.

The hours drag on like molasses. You can still smell Yoon's blood on your clothes, the smoke in your hair.

"Did you get your head checked on?"

Taehyung's question barely makes it through the dense haze of dull pain clouding your mind. It feels as if his voice reaches you in a dream, but you're not sleeping.

"What?"

"Your head, y/n," he repeats, looking at you with concern. "Did you have it examined?"

"What? Why?"

"Because you have a nasty bruise right there," he points at your temple, his fingers hovering over your skin, reluctant to touch it. "It looks serious. Maybe you should have one of the doctors check it out."

"No. No need. It's nothing. I barely have a headache. Plus, there's no time. There are so many people here who need help far more urgently than me. You should have seen them. The bodies. The –" Your thoughts get lost in the sound of your own blood roaring in your ears. You can feel a suffocating lump form in your throat, making it harder for you to breathe by the second.

"Yoon," you jump to your feet, the thought of him sending a fresh surge of adrenaline through your bloodstream. "Yoon. I need to see him. I need to know if he is still alive."

"Shush, it's okay, y/n." Taehyung gets up to pull you in for a close hug, firmly keeping you in place and from running off towards the operating room once again. "It's all right. Yoon's gonna be fine. He's gonna be just fine."

Somehow, your brother's words have lost their power, no more achieving their reassuring purpose.

Nonetheless, you give in and allow Taehyung to push you back down into your uncomfortable chair, your body, drained of all energy, none of it left in you to fight anymore, remaining in a state of absolute petrification whereas your thoughts keep racing, chasing themselves in an attempt to escape the undeniable truth.

That you might have lost him. For good this time.

SEVEN MONTHS LATER ...

Quietly, you run your hands across the straightened linens of the empty hospital bed.

You still can’t believe it, can’t seem to be able to wrap your mind around the happenings of the past few months. Just contemplating the course of events brings tears to your eyes once more. You're surprised there are even any left in your organism after all the hours you spent sobbing by Yoon's bedside.

Days and nights you spent in this cold, dull hospital room, your only company the never-fading smell of disinfectant and Yoon's unconscious body, bathed in the pale glow of LED lamps. Back then, you kept thinking what you wouldn't give to look into his deep, dark eyes once more, what you wouldn't give for them to open again by some miracle. But they remained closed.

"Do you think I was right? To ask the doctors not to tell me?" you wonder aloud, recognizing your brother's presence in the room without even looking.

"I don't know." Namjoon steps up to you from behind, putting his arm around your shoulder with a long sigh. "You tell me, y/n."

For a few seconds, you fall silent, your hands now tightly clutching the fabric of Yoon's plaid shirt. The one he was wearing on the day of the attack. You washed it a dozen times, but the bloodstains still wouldn't quite come off.

"Yes," you then nod with newly found confidence. "Yes. I made the right choice. I'm sure. And I'm glad I stuck with it. It wasn't the doctors' place to tell me Yoon's name. Thanks for always being there and making sure they didn't, helping me through the whole process. I don't know what I would've done without you, Joonie."

"Hey, hey, don't cry just yet." He gently brushes a stray tear off your cheek with the calloused tip of his thumb. Just like old times. Always the big brother. "Save your tears for later."

"I'll try."

"Good. Because we need to leave. Now. Or you'll be late for the ceremony."

Namjoon pauses, waiting for your reaction.

"Y/n? Are you ready?"

Forcing a smile, you take a deep breath and straighten your back before you turn around to face your brother, struggling to keep your eyes from welling up again.

"Yeah. I'm ready."

"No, you're not," you can hear Taehyung's voice coming from the hallway.

"No, I'm not."

"But you can do it, y/n." With a warm smile, Namjoon takes hold of your hand. "I know you can. And you will. You knew this day would come. And I can understand that you're scared. But you'll feel so much better once you went through with it."

"God, will you stop, Namjoon!?“, Taehyung rolls his eyes, linking arms with you, both of your brothers now guiding you outside and down the corridor, away from the memories. "You make it sound so horrible. No wonder she's scared.“

Taehyung indignantly shakes his head.

"Y/n, I can promise you, this is gonna be a life-changing experience," he now addresses you directly, his expression solemn but his tone sarcastic. "You'll see. You'll come out of that chapel a different woman. And after all these months, you will finally get the closure you deserve. Today, you start your new life."

"Shut up," you hiss through gritted teeth, smiling at a doctor who gives you a puzzled once-over in passing before you go on to kick Taehyung in the shin. "Both of you. You're only making things worse."

"Sorry," both of them grumble in unison. As you shift in his hold, you can feel Namjoon flinch, presumably scared of being the next one to receive a kick as punishment.

"Sorry," you lower your voice to a whisper when the tree of you come to a full stop before the hospital chapel's double door. "Sorry, I'm so irritable. I'm just –"

"Nervous," Namjoon finishes your sentence. "It's okay. We get it. That's why we're here."

"To make sure you don't run away," Taehyung teases.

"You really want me to kick you again?"

"No, thanks."

"Jesus," Seokjin's voice cuts through your whispery bickering. "Can't you guys stop squabbling for even one second? Not even on a day such as today?"

With a condescending shake of his head, he busies himself with fixing Namjoon's bow-tie.

"You look dashing," he smiles at his husband, quickly leaning in for a peck on the lips Namjoon happily gives.

"Yeah, yeah. But can we move on now?" Taehyung whines. "I've had, like, three sodas earlier. If we don't go right now, I'm gonna have to leave for the men's room."

"You're such a baby," Seokjin scoffs but takes a step aside, clearing the path for you and your brothers to finally enter the oratory.

"You ready?" he locks eyes with you, waiting for your signal.

"Yes," you nod your head, tightening your hold on your brothers' arms.

"Okay. Three, two," Seokjin starts dramatically counting down as he reaches out to pull open the tall doors leading to the chapel. "One. And go."

For a second, you freeze as the ceremonious music reaches your ears and you notice the first heads turning, familiar eyes watching you intently as you start to make your way down the aisle.

At first, you don't dare to lift your gaze off the floor under your feet, afraid the sight of him would lead you to break down in tears.

The sight of Yoon.

Waiting for you by the altar.

At this moment, you can't help but remember all the times when you sat by his side, considering your options, wondering whether you would be able to go through with an open-casket funeral. Back then, you never thought it would really come to this.

Lastly, you come to a halt before him.

With one last squeeze, Taehyung reluctantly lets go of your arm while Namjoon remains by your side. And you're glad he does, because your knees feel as if they were turning to water when the pastor now begins to speak, his rich voice echoing through the silent chapel.

"Thank you to the friends and family that are here today to celebrate this union."

Hesitantly, you let your glance wander upwards to meet Yoon's. His eyes are smiling.

"This occasion not only marks the beginning of their marriage commitment together, but it is a commemoration of the love nurtured and shared between these two. Together, they embark today on a new life together, built on the foundations of trust, compassion, mutual respect and a bond of souls that is never to be broken."

'Hey there,' you soundlessly form with your lips, barely resisting the urge to lean down and kiss Yoon right then and there. He looks unbelievably handsome in his black tuxedo.

'You look stunning,' Yoon soundlessly whispers in response, obviously in awe of your floor-length white dress.

"Who gives this bride today?" the minister asks.

"I do," Namjoon answers with pride before he, too, steps aside.

"If there is anyone in attendance who has cause to believe that this couple should not be joined in marriage, you may speak now or forever hold your peace."

All the gathered guests seem to hold their breath simultaneously while knowing eyes start searching the crowd for one particular face. You can't help but let out a short laugh when your eyes find Jimin who is looking around in bewilderment.

"Did you guys really think I would –?" he gasps, half laughing, pretending to be offended.

"No," you grin. "Of course not."

You give Jimin, who's fingers are intertwined with those of his beautiful girlfriend of four months, an apologetic wink before you swiftly bow to the pastor.

"I'm sorry. You may proceed."

He acknowledges your words with a forbearing nod of his grayed head and continues to speak.

"Marriage is an ancient human tradition. The personal and social merits that accompany the bonds of marriage have led to its continued endurance and have paved the way for us to be standing here before the Universe celebrating the union between these two people today that, by far, exceeds the nature of the mere Link."

From the corner of your eye, you can tell Yoon is watching you fondly.

"Marriage is, truly, a magical gift. As Mark Twain noted, 'Marriage makes of two fractional lives a whole, and it gives to two purposeless lives a work, it gives to two questioning natures a reason for living, and something to live for; it will give a new gladness to the sunshine, a new fragrance to the flowers, a new beauty to the earth, a new mystery to life.'"

The minister pauses.

Through a blur of tears, you look over at Yoon, sitting next to you in a wheelchair, his face gleaming with joy.

"At this time, before proceeding with the bonding ceremony, I would invite the couple to share their vows. Y/n, would you please deliver yours first?"

"Of course." You clear your throat and turn to face Yoon now.

“Today, I take you as my husband," you begin after a few seconds of absolute silence. As you go on, you barely manage to keep your voice steady.

"Quite frankly, I had lost faith that this moment would ever come. That we would stand here, together. But during these past few months, I prayed every single day that I would meet you again. Here, exactly like this, at the altar, witnessed by all the people we love. Because I love you, Yoon. I love you now as I've always loved you, and as I always will love you."

Yoon remains quiet. But you can tell by merely looking at him that your words mean more to him than he could ever say.

"And now Yoon, would you deliver your vows?"

"Gladly." The corners of his mouth quirk up almost imperceptibly. "I'm not a big fan of talking in front of people, so I'm gonna keep this short. Sorry."

He quickly looks around the room before his eyes lock with yours again.

"Y/n, today I take you as my wife, and there's honestly no one else I could imagine spending my life with. I love you now as I've loved you from the first time I saw you in that bar – and as I will love you till the day I die. Not to be dramatic. But it's true."

A murmur of hushed giggles goes through the crowd.

"Honest words," the minister remarks, apparently pleased.

"Y/n and Yoon, please join hands," he then demands. And you gladly comply, offering your assistance as Yoon tries to stand up, his legs still weakened from the months spent in a hospital bed.

"Y/n," the minister resumes. "Do you take Yoon as your cherished husband, in front of these witnesses, and promise to stay by his side through sickness and health, joy and sorrow, so long as you both shall live?"

"I do," you reply without even a hint of hesitation.

"Yoon, will you take Y/n as your cherished wife, in front of these witnesses, and promise to stay by her side through sickness and health, joy and sorrow, so long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

"The rings?" the minister arches a brow.

"Oh. Oh. Of course," Taehyung mumbles, a fierce blush tinting his cheeks while he frantically searches the pockets of his vintage suit jacket. "Wait a second." The tension is palpable.

"Here you go," he grins sheepishly.

Smiling, you roll your eyes as you take the rings from him, handing one of them to Yoon whose glance never once left you all this time.

"The wedding rings perfectly symbolize the never-ending love you two have for each other," the minister explains. "By exchanging these rings, you solidify a lifelong commitment to one another. The rings serve as a welcome and constant reminder of the bond you've formed with your partner. Please repeat after me."

He halts, his gaze fixed on you.

"I, Y/n, give you, Yoon this ring as a symbol of my enduring love. Just as the circle of the ring completes itself, so you complete me."

You repeat the words as you put the ring on Yoon's finger, your hands shaking so violently you almost fail even at the second attempt.

"Now it's your turn," the pastor turns to Yoon. "Repeat after me: I, Yoon, give you, Y/N this ring as a symbol of my enduring love. Just as the circle of the ring completes itself, so you complete me."

You can feel your throat close up when you listen to Yoon speaking those words with such sincerity and faith, you are sure you have never heard anything more beautiful in your life. Effortlessly, he slides the silver ring onto your finger.

"Y/n and Yoon, by the power vested in me by the Church and the Republic of Korea, I am pleased to pronounce you husband and wife, sealed together today both in law and in love."

The minister gives you a cordial smile.

"Yoon, you may now kiss the bride!"

And he does. You need to remind yourself that you're inside a church when Yoon's lips meet yours and have trouble detaching yourself from him when the minister demonstratively clears his throat.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he solemnly announces, shaking his head with a grin. "I now have the privilege of presenting, for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. –"

He stops, with a brisk nod indicating to Yoon that he is to continue.

"Mr. and Mrs.," Yoon takes over, your hand still resting in his, his onyx eyes locked with yours and his voice bearing no trace of uncertainty as he finally speaks his name, stretching out every syllable.

"Min Yoongi."

Almost instantly, you can feel a pleasantly warm surge of energy run through your entire being, originating from the point where both your palms are joined and shooting through your left wrist and arm until it reaches your heart. Yoon's grip on your hand tightens when you gasp for air, taken aback by the intensity of the experience.

You break eye contact with him only to take a peek at the inside of your wrist and discover Yoon's full name written on your skin in simple yet elegant letters.

When you look back up again, it's as if you see Yoon for the very first time, through a fresh set of eyes, his image brighter, clearer than ever before and his beauty all the more evident.

Your feelings for him, however, remain the same.

Nothing has changed even though everything is different.

And suddenly, you’re not afraid anymore.

Because you are whole now.

T H E E N D

A/N: Guys. I can’t believe I did it. I can’t believe I created this. 😭 This story took me places I never thought it would, it helped me grow and heal and brought me closer to you. 🤧 I never thought this series would become so meaningful to me. But it did. And I’m grateful I got to write and share it with you guys. 😌💖

[God, I’m so emotional right now.]

Thank you for reading! Thank you so much for staying with this series until the end, for your support, encouragement and lovely feedback. 💖 It means the world to me. 💖💖 I hope you enjoyed ‘Linked’ and that this, its final chapter, didn’t disappoint. 😌

Love, Ana 💖

Here you can find my Masterlist in case you feel like checking out more of my BTS fiction.

Also, if you have Spotify, you can listen to the ‘official’ 🎶 playlist 🎶 to the ‘Linked’ series here. It contains all the songs having been sent back and forth between Yoongi and the reader in the past and some more tunes fitting the series’ vibe.

Take care and have a great day! ☺️💖

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bountyofbeads · 5 years

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Neil Armstrong’s Heirs Split Over a Lucrative Legacy https://www.nytimes.com/2019/07/27/us/neil-armstrong-heirs.html

Neil Armstrong is a 'NATIONAL TREASURE' and it's sad 😔 😢to know that his death could have been prevented, especially as we celebrate the 50th Aniversary of their historic Moon🌚 landing and walk on the 🌚Moon. And now the family division over many Neil Armstrong's belongings and mementos are being auctioned off to private buyers that we, our children or grandchildren, may never see again. I remember so vividly, as a child, watching to news coverage of that period and it remind me of a period AWE but also a time of UNCERTAINTY.

😢😭😭😭

‘Would Dad Approve?’ Neil Armstrong’s Heirs Divide Over a Lucrative Legacy

By Scott Shane, Sarah Kliff and Susanne Craig | Published July 27, 2019| New York Times | Posted July 27, 2019 |

Last fall, Neil Armstrong’s two sons began a round of media appearances to promote a venture that would make them millions of dollars: a series of auctions of about 3,000 mementos from their father’s moon mission and NASA career.

“One Giant Sale” was CNBC’s headline, playing on the astronaut’s famous line, as Mark and Rick Armstrong talked up the items — an American flag that had flown to the moon on Apollo 11; a flight suit their father had worn earlier in his career; and many possessions that had nothing to do with space, including Mr. Armstrong’s childhood teddy bear and a preschool report card he signed.

“You just hope that people get positive energy from these things,” Mark Armstrong told “CBS This Morning.” He told The New York Times they had “struggled with” what their father might think of the auctions. “Would Dad approve? Let’s see what positive things we can do with the proceeds,” he said.

The auctions would prove lucrative amid the rising wave of publicity leading up to the 50th anniversary of the moon landing this month: $16.7 million in sales to date. The Dallas auction house calls the memorabilia the Armstrong Family Collection, though it includes a small number of items from other sources, including the astronaut Buzz Aldrin. Another auction, the fourth, is set for November.

Those sales by the brothers, who also pursued a newly disclosed $6 million wrongful death settlement over their father’s medical care, have exposed deep differences among those who knew Neil Armstrong about his legacy — and what he would have wanted.

Some relatives, friends and archivists find the sales unseemly, citing the astronaut’s aversion to cashing in on his celebrity and flying career and the loss of historical objects to the public.

“I seriously doubt Neil would approve of selling off his artifacts and memorabilia,” said James R. Hansen, his biographer. “He never did any of that in his lifetime.”

The astronaut had stopped signing autographs in 1994, after he discovered that many of those requesting his signature were then selling them. His personal lawyer, Ross Wales, said his client resisted the idolatry focused on his signature and possessions in part because he considered himself only the frontman for a huge NASA enterprise.

“His feeling was that he was not special because he was the first person to walk on the moon, and that he wouldn’t have done it if it weren’t for the thousands of people who worked on the mission,” Mr. Wales said.

By contrast with the astronaut’s sons, Carol Armstrong — his second wife, whom he married in 1994 after a divorce initiated by Janet Armstrong, Rick and Mark’s mother — is not known to have sold anything. Instead she has lent and donated a collection of memorabilia to the Smithsonian’s National Air and Space Museum in Washington; such loans often convert to donations in an arrangement intended to avoid gift taxes. People who know her say she and her adult children, Andrew and Molly, believe her husband would have opposed the commerce in the trappings of his work and life. (Carol and her children declined to comment.)

Mark Armstrong said that the question of what’s best for posterity and what his father might have wanted is not so simple. He said that he and his brother had already donated to museums more than $500,000 in cash and artifacts worth about $1.4 million, and that they had lent items worth several million more.

But he said donations, which offer the donor tax benefits, do not guarantee public access. “Museums can choose to store items out of sight or unilaterally decide to sell them,” he said in an email forwarded by his wife.

As for his father, Mark said, “I think he would judge us not on whether we auctioned items or not, but rather what we do with the proceeds and how we conduct our lives. Dad said that he wanted to leave the world a better place than he found it. I intend to follow his example and teach my children to do the same.”

Mark and his wife, Wendy, said they were using auction proceeds to create an environmental nonprofit in honor of Mark’s parents, called Vantage Earth, that Wendy said would work “to preserve and protect the earth from the damage done to it by its own population — a concern raised by Neil upon looking back at the earth from the moon.”

Tensions are common in any family affected by divorce. When it is the family of the first human being to step onto the moon, with global fame and a large estate, relations get only more complicated.

After leaving NASA in 1971, Mr. Armstrong taught aerospace engineering at the University of Cincinnati, served on multiple corporate boards and accepted speaking fees, accumulating a fortune worth many millions. But he turned down many opportunities to make even more money, friends say.

At the time of his death, most of Mr. Armstrong’s assets, including the memorabilia, were left in a trust, the beneficiaries of which could not be determined by The Times. His sons may have received some items from their father through the trust, and they received other keepsakes when their mother died in 2018, according to Wendy Armstrong. The first auction was held five months later.

Strains between Mr. Armstrong’s first and second families came to a head after his death in 2012, at age 82, of complications after heart surgery. The Times reported this past week that Mercy Health-Fairfield Hospital, outside Cincinnati, had secretly paid the family $6 million to settle a claim that his treatment had been deficient. The family also sought changes in hospital protocols to prevent such deaths in the future.

Papers sent anonymously to The Times described how the removal of pacemaker wires installed during surgery had caused bleeding that could not be repaired quickly because no cardiac surgeon was on duty. The resulting loss of oxygen to Mr. Armstrong’s brain left him in a vegetative state; he died 11 days later after life support was withdrawn.

While there was some friction over when to remove life support, the real clash came later, over the medical malpractice claim, which the sons pushed for and Carol, his widow, declined to participate in.

“In the end, strong feelings ripped apart Neil’s loved ones over the hospital’s handling of Neil’s care,” said Mr. Hansen, who became close to the family while writing his 2005 Armstrong biography, “First Man.”

Mr. Hansen called the medical crisis “a terrible, traumatic situation” made worse by the fact that “Neil essentially had two distinct families that were not, if they ever had been able to before, thinking and feeling as one.”

Carol Armstrong, who knew her husband had considered the cardiologist a friend, “felt strongly that Neil would not have wanted her to sue the doctors or the hospital — he would not want anyone to take advantage of his name in such a way,” Mr. Hansen said.

Court records show Ms. Armstrong as receiving “zero — not participating,” by her own choice. Neither did her children, the astronaut’s stepchildren, seek any payment.

Mark Armstrong, a 56-year-old retired software engineer, and Rick, 62, a onetime animal trainer who has a software consulting business, got the bulk of the hospital’s payment, about $2.6 million apiece. Neil’s surviving brother and sister got $250,000 each, and the six children of Rick and Mark got $24,000 each.

One court filing in the case, by a lawyer arguing for a greater share for the grandchildren, discussed the uneasy equation between familial relations — even love — and cold cash. While acknowledging that Mr. Armstrong’s siblings might get a larger payment because “they loved him the longest, depended on him the most” and found his loss “most painful,” the lawyer, Bertha G. Helmick, wrote that the “opposite is equally true.”

“The minor grandchildren, having had the least time with Decedent, have suffered the greatest loss of time, attention, protection, advice, guidance, counsel and affection.”

The grandchildren, she wrote, “lost their universally beloved and revered grandfather, who could magically open any door, innocently pave ways into college admissions, and who would have always carried a de facto hero element to any school or athletic or workplace function.”

Rick and Mark Armstrong, represented by Mark’s wife, Wendy, a lawyer, got the settlement after threatening to announce their concerns about their father’s treatment at a gathering at Kennedy Space Center for the 45th anniversary of the moon shot.

The brothers would use the 50th anniversary this month for a different kind of leverage. They were far from the first to sell an astronaut’s possessions — Heritage Auctions in Dallas has sold such collections for 20 other astronauts and their families, said Greg Rohan, the company’s president. But none had the status of Neil Armstrong.

“This is really the holy grail,” Mr. Rohan said in a promotional video.

“Neil Armstrong holds a special place in the space history enthusiasts’ world,” said Robert Pearlman, editor of CollectSpace.com, a website devoted to space memorabilia.

The prices reflected that reverence. Items fetching the highest prices tended to be those that traveled with Mr. Armstrong to the moon, such as a rare gold medal that sold for $2.04 million this month — the highest price in the lot. The American flag that had flown aboard Apollo 11 got $275,000.

Personal items, from Mr. Armstrong’s own childhood and early years of parenting, also sold well. The teddy bear sold for $3,500. A letter that Mr. Armstrong wrote to the Easter bunny as a child, asking it to “please hide our baskets” and signed “Neil,” sold for $4,000. A postcard sent to his parents from Paris in 1962 (“Having a fine time and not working too hard,” it reads) went for $1,375. The preschool report card Mr. Armstrong signed for his son Mark went for $750.

Even Mr. Armstrong’s personal collection of magazines and vinyl records — most bearing no relation to his journey to space, such as his copies of The Family Handymanand Sports Illustrated — found buyers, mostly for $200 or less.

Many of the items sold at auction — ranging from photographs in his spacesuit to personal checks — included Mr. Armstrong’s handwriting and signature, though he’d been loath to see his autographs sold when he was alive.

“He went out of his way not to make his signature available,” said Mr. Wales, the lawyer, who worked for Mr. Armstrong for more than a decade. “He realized that, yes, there were young kids who just thought it was great to get an autograph, but there were young kids who had parents who went about taking their kids’ autographs and selling them. He just didn’t like to be made a fuss over.”

In 2005, Mr. Armstrong learned that a barber had sold his hair clippings to a memorabilia collector for $3,000. He directed Mr. Wales to propose that the barber either “return the hair to Mr. Armstrong” or “donate, to a charitable organization of his choice, an amount equal to the proceeds you realized on the sale of his hair.”

In a letter to the barber, Mr. Wales cited a 1998 Ohio law that bars the unauthorized use of someone’s persona for profit, either while they are that person is alive or for 100 years after his or her death. The astronaut John Glenn, also an Ohio native, had urged the state legislature to pass the law. Mr. Armstrong felt similarly, Mr. Wales said.

When the first auction approached last year, archivists at Purdue University, Mr. Armstrong’s alma mater, issued a mild public protest. In a letter to The Times, the archivists noted that Neil and Carol Armstrong had donated more than 400 boxes of his papers to Purdue, where they had been consulted by scholars and students; used to produce books, dissertations, films and exhibits; and included in a dozen courses.

“Auctioning off historical treasures into private hands at the expense of providing access to the public is problematic,” they wrote. “Archives exist to make the remnants of history accessible and long lasting so that current and future generations have access to them.”

Mr. Pearlman, of the space memorabilia site, who said he corresponded with Mr. Armstrong before his death, said he understood the mixed feelings about such auctions, despite his own avid interest in collecting.

“I understand those who frown upon selling these items,” he said. “But what do you do with them?” He said there was no perfect path for such an inheritance.

“I can’t say Neil would or wouldn’t have wanted these auctions to happen,” Mr. Pearlman said. “I can say I don’t think there’s a clear right or wrong here.”

#u.s. news #politics #us: news #international news #must reads #nasa #neil armstrong #space #international space station #space photography #world news #news #trending news #news headlines #latest news #global news

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lfthinkerwrites · 5 years

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Like Father, Like Daughter, pt. 4

Title: From the Case Files of Edward Nigma, PI

Fandom: Batman

Rating: T

Summary: Edward finds out just what his daughter is up to.

Previous Chapters: 1/2/3

AO3 Link

...Attached are the photos of Mr. Hill entering and exiting the apartment of one Cherie Goldstein on April 8th, after telling his wife he would be leaving Gotham to conduct business in Metropolis. Evidently, life as a wealthy salesman and family man wasn't enough to keep him satisfied, though if either of his children were as stubborn and ungrateful as mine is-

Edward stopped typing up his report when he saw what he'd written, then deleted the document with a frustrated groan. That was the fourth time he'd attempted to write this damn thing and the fourth one he'd had to scrap because he'd written something choice about Ellen. He leaned back in his chair and sighed. Why was it, whenever he felt like he'd turned a corner with her, Ellen would do something foolish like this? Didn't it occur to her that she wouldn't have the nicer clothes she had or the college fund he was setting up for her without his working on cases? Pardon him if he couldn't drop everything he had on his plate just to run after some teenager he'd never met! He opened his drawer and pulled out the notebook he'd scribbled on earlier that day. He'd read over it twice since Ellen had stormed out of his office, but neither time had shed any new light for him. Ellen's friend left her apartment to get away from a family dispute and simply went off the grid for a bit. That's all it was. Edward would give Ellen the night to cool down, and then in the morning, he'd call her and get an apology for her horrid behavior. And if by some slim chance the friend still hadn't returned, then Edward would look into it. He put the notebook down on his desk and rubbed his eyes. What time was it now? Edward checked his watch. 12:40. He wouldn't get any further work done tonight. He saved his progress on his case file, then opened his internet browser to look at some news articles that had caught his eye earlier. Mayor Sharp, in addition to cracking down on costumed criminals and the vigilantes who fought them, had been on a beautification campaign. An even grander memorial ceremony at the end of May, new additions in City Hall to be completed by the end of the year...Edward yawned and clicked on another link. A robbery of a chemical plant. Standard Friday night in Gotham. Probably Ivy's doing. He clicked another link. A serial killer going around cutting off pieces of his victims' faces? Now that was interesting. Before he could read the article in depth, he heard his cell phone ring. Who on Earth could that be? He picked it up, thinking it might have been Ellen, only to smile when he recognized the number. "Edward Nigma, Private Investigator. You're up a bit late, aren't you Penelope?"

"Hello, Edward. I didn't wake you, did I?"

"Not at all," he answered, stretching out. After that nonsense with Ellen earlier, it would be nice to talk to someone more sensible. "What's going on?"

"Aaron called me a few minutes ago."

"After midnight? I hope you straightened him out."

"Be serious, Edward. He's at GCPD. He told me an orderly from Arkham Asylum walked in about twenty minutes ago and confessed to killing Victor Goodman!"

Edward sat straight up in his chair, fully awake and alert now. "Well," he said. "Looks like Strange found someone willing to take the fall for Sharp. What else did Cash say?"

"Not much. Apparently, he refused a lawyer. He's sitting in an interrogation room now, demanding to be taken to Gotham County. Montoya's talking with him now, but Aaron says Sanchez-"

A chill went down Edward's spine. "Sanchez?" he repeated. "What's his first name?"

"Miguel, I think. Why? Do you know him?"

Edward barely registered the question as he looked back down at the notebook and the names he'd scribbled hours ago. '...family dispute...brother lied about workplace...brother's name is Miguel...' It couldn't be. What were the odds? In this town? What kind of question was that?

"Edward?" Penelope's voice asked again. "What is it?"

"Does he have a sister?" he asked.

"What?"

"Miguel Sanchez!" Edward half-yelled into the phone. "Does he have a sister!?"

"Don't raise your voice at me like that, Edward Nigma," Penelope scolded. "I never knew anyone by that name at Arkham, so I don't know what his background is. What's going on? What do you know?"

Edward ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry," he said. "Ellen was by earlier today, she was going on about how a friend of hers was missing, she said that she thought she was kidnapped because of something her brother was involved in-"

"And you think that the man in GCPD now is the brother?"

"Ellen said that his name was Miguel, that her friend's last name is Sanchez. Does this sound like just a coincidence?" A hot prickling sensation suddenly went through Edward. If Ellen had been right all along about her friend being kidnapped, that meant Strange, or Bolton or someone connected to Arkham had targeted the girl, which meant they had tracked her and that Ellen may have had contact with them. Ellen was in danger too. "I have to go. I have to check on Ellen, I'll call you later." Edward hung up the phone before Penelope could reply and quickly dialed Ellen's home number. "Pick up," he muttered as the phone rang. "Pick up!"The answering machine picked up the message and Edward stifled a curse. "Ellen, it's me. Call me back. We need to talk about-" Edward paused. Either Ellen was a very sound sleeper, or she wasn't home.

It was after midnight. If she wasn't home, where was she?

Edward bolted out of his chair and ran out his front door, barely stopping to grab the coat on the coatrack before he slammed the door shut behind him.

"...So I went back over to her apartment to talk to her Mom, and I heard her brother talking to his boss. The boss told him to do what he said, and he'd get Marisol back! He said he'd be back at midnight for his answer." Batgirl nodded. She'd listened to Ellen's story patiently, unlike the Old Man, who had interrupted constantly. Ellen took a breath and continued, "So I went back home, put on my costume and grabbed some stuff, and I came back to her apartment at midnight to see if I could find out where he was holding her. I hid behind a dumpster and I heard him talking to some guys on the phone. He told them to meet him here, and that they'd make Marisol look like she OD'ed! I had to come out here!"

Batgirl looked thoughtful as she considered what Ellen had told her. "You came out here all by yourself? Why didn't you tell your Dad what you overheard at the apartment this afternoon?"

Ellen scoffed. "He didn't care when I told him before, he wouldn't care now. He would have told me to stay out of it."

Stephanie carefully thought about what she'd say to Enigma next. "I get wanting to help your friend, but you know this is really dangerous."

Enigma rolled her eyes and if Stephanie didn't believe she was Riddler's daughter before, she did now. It was eerie how much they looked alike. "No duh. I brought weapons, I can take care of myself."

"You brought a hammer and pepper spray."

"How did-"

"I saw you take down those guys a few blocks back."

Ellen blushed a bit. "You did?" she asked, hating how squeaky her voice got when she was embarrassed. She puffed out her chest a bit. "So you saw me take those guys out. I told you I could handle this."

Stephanie shook her head a bit. "You know that would have ended a lot differently if one of those guys had a gun, right?" She felt a bit bad at how the younger girl deflated. "Not to mention, you don't know what you're about to walk into here. There could be a lot of bad people here, they could be armed. I hate to agree with Edward Nigma on anything, but putting yourself in danger like this isn't going to help your friend. You should go home." God, she sounded like Bruce and Tim did when she was starting out as Spoiler. You either died a hero or you lived long enough to see yourself become the villain.

Ellen bit her lip to keep herself from yelling at Batgirl. "I'm not going anywhere. Marisol needs help. I can't just do nothing." Batgirl said nothing, but after a long moment, stepped forward and put her hand on Ellen's shoulder. Ellen blushed to the roots of her hair at the contact.

"You've already helped her," she said. Then she winked at Ellen. "You've got Batgirl on the case!"

Ellen's heart lifted up at the words. "You'll save her?"

"Of course," Stephanie said, giving her a thumbs up. "That's my job." Enigma's face broke out in a smile. "Hide here in the alley. I'll get in and have your friend out in no time-" The sound of an approaching car interrupted her. Stephanie turned and saw a red sports car approaching the building. Enigma reached out and gripped her arm tightly.

"That's his car," she whispered. "That's the guy's car-"

The car was just a few feet from the building. In a few moments, the headlights would reach their spot by the window. Stephanie grabbed hold of Enigma's hand. "Come on!" She pulled her deeper into the alleyway, out of the car and the driver's line of sight, then pressed her up against the side of the building. She put a finger in front of her lips. "Shh!"

Ellen's heart hammered in her chest, from the terror of almost being caught by the man and by being in such close proximity to Batgirl. If she reached up a bit, she could touch her long blonde hair. She heard the sound of a car door shut, then of footsteps approaching the front of the building and for a moment, she forgot to breathe.

"Anyone here?" she heard the man call out. Then she heard the front door open and shut. Batgirl moved away then, moving back towards the front of the building. She turned back towards Ellen with a serious look on her face. "Stay here. I'll be back." Then she rounded the corner and disappeared.

Ellen leaned back against the cool wall of the building and sighed. Batgirl was here. If anyone could save Marisol, she could. Couldn't she?

As soon as Stephanie had walked up to the front door, she pressed her communicator. "Oracle, it's me."

"Did you talk to the girl? What's going on?"

Stephanie sucked in a quick breath. "It's a real mess. She came out here because a friend of hers was kidnapped. From what I could tell, she's being held hostage because her brother witnessed a murder. We're at the place she's being held now."

"Oh, wow. So you're going to save the girl?"

"Naturally," Stephanie said, getting to work at picking the lock to the front door. "Enigma's hiding in the alley by the building now. As soon as I get her friend, we're getting out of here."

"Enigma?"

"That's what she's calling herself. I haven't gotten around to asking what her actual name is yet." After another minute, she heard the lock give way. "I'm in."

"Good. Bruce still can't get ahold of Nigma, so the quicker you get this done, the better."

"Got it. Batgirl out." Stephanie slowly opened the front door and stepped inside. Standard rescue. She'd be out of here in no time. She thought a bit about where Nigma was that Bruce couldn't get hold of him. Was whatever he was doing more important than his own daughter? She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer to that question.

Edward had been pounding on the front door to Ellen's apartment for a good five minutes. At first, he'd thought she was asleep. She had to be. She had to be here. When no answer came, he grabbed at the doorknob and turned it frantically. Locked. That was a good sign, it meant she had to be here, didn't it? Then why wasn't she answering? No one was that sound a sleeper! "Ellen!" he called out. "Open up!"

There was no response. Edward felt something close to panic now. "Ellen!" He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a lock pick he carried in case of an emergency. This qualified as such. He got to work picking the lock, reciting grade school riddles under his breath to keep the thoughts at bay. She's not here. Give me food and I live, give me drink and I die, what am I? Strange found out about her. Where does a 500-pound gorilla sit? Bolton has her. A boy and his father are in an accident. The surgeon takes one look at the boy and says I can't operate, he's my son. She's dead, she's dead, she's dead, just like Jon-What time is it when an elephant sits on your fence?

Edward heard the door unlock and he rushed inside, almost tripping on a rug in his haste to get in the apartment. The living room light was still on. "Ellen!" he called out. He ran from the living room, through the kitchen, down the hall, into each of the bedrooms, but there was no sign of anyone. She was gone. His daughter was gone. Edward staggered back into the living room, almost collapsing on the sofa. He took his head into his hands and fought the urge to vomit. What had he done? She'd said her friend was abducted. Why didn't he listen to her? Faintly, he felt his ring through his coat pocket. He pulled it out, hoping against hope it would be his daughter. "Yes?"

"Edward, what's happened? Did you find Ellen?"

Penelope. "No," he said. "She's not here. Strange has her-"

"Edward, calm down. You don't know that-"

"Don't tell me what I do or don't know, Penelope! She's not here, Strange already had one girl kidnapped, now he has my daughter!" Edward's mind began working into overdrive. He'd kill them. He'd burn Strange and Sharp to the ground for this. Riddle me this-

Penelope's voice cut through then, sharp and cold. "Edward. Breathe. Think this through. You know what kind of man Strange is. If he had any kind of leverage over you, do you think he'd keep it from you?"

Edward was about to snap back at her when he stopped to consider this. "No," he murmured. "No," he said again, and he felt his breath coming in slower. "He'd lord it over me. You're right. If he knew about Ellen, let alone took her, I'd know it." He shook his head. "That doesn't rule out Bolton though. Or explain why she isn't here."

"What does the apartment look like? Does it look like there was a struggle?"

"No," Edward said, getting up. Now that the panic had subsided, the rational part of his brain was taking over. "It looks normal. The lights in the living room and her bedroom were still on when I got in here." Then it occurred to Edward. "The front door was locked." If Ellen had been taken from the apartment, would her abductor have allowed her the time to lock the door behind her?

"So then she left voluntarily. Is it possible she left to try to find her friend on her own? From what I've observed, she seems impulsive enough to do so."

"She certainly is. I told you about the time she dressed up and threw a jar of pickles at a robber in a deli-" The proverbial pin dropped. She didn't. She wouldn't. "Oh, my God."

"What?"

Edward dashed back into Ellen's bedroom and took a careful glance around. Her top drawer was open, as was her closet. As if she had pulled out a change of clothes. On top of her drawer was a copy of the Gotham Gazette, dated from last August. He thumbed through the paper. On the fifth page, highlighted in yellow marker, was one article in particular. DELI ROBBERY FOILED BY MASKED VIGILANTE CLAIMING TO BE RIDDLER'S DAUGHTER. Edward's stomach dropped. "Oh, that stupid, stupid girl!"

"She put on the costume again, didn't she?"

"Of course she did! Because as if the amnesia wasn't enough, the universe or whatever Higher Power exists also decided to curse me with the most stubborn, reckless, impulsive, stupid child that's ever lived!" Edward threw the paper down on the drawer with a frustrated shout, almost knocking over a framed picture. Edward took a closer look at it. It was of Ellen as a younger child, about eight maybe, playing with a dark-haired, dark-skinned girl about the same age. Marisol, perhaps? Edward picked up the picture. Who was this girl that was so important to Ellen that she was willing to risk her life playing at superhero to rescue her? Edward sighed a bit, realizing not for the first time just how little he knew about his own child.

"Edward?" Penelope asked. Throughout this whole conversation, she'd kept her tone cool, almost professional. Now was the first time she conveyed a hint of concern. "What are you going to do? What do you need me to do?"

Edward walked out of the bedroom, taking the picture with him. "Go to GCPD and find out everything you can about what Sanchez is saying. I'm going to find my daughter before she gets herself killed."

"Alright. I'll call you when I find out anything. Edward? Good luck."

For the first time since he'd left his apartment, Edward smiled. "Thank you." He disconnected the call and walked out of the apartment, shutting the door behind him. First thing's first, he needed to tune into the police scanner to monitor any potential sightings of Ellen in costume. Then he'd call Selina and Oswald and ask them to keep an eye and ear out. Then he needed to get back to his apartment and find out everything he could about the Sanchez family. As soon as he tracked down an address, Ellen would get her wish and he'd speak to the Sanchez parents.

One way or another, he'd find out exactly what was going on.

As he quickly made his way down the stairs, he heard his cell phone ring again. He looked down at the phone and saw a blocked number calling him. He scowled and silenced the phone. He didn't have time to deal with a crank right now.

#from the case files of edward nigma #PI verse #edward nigma #riddler's daughter #stephanie brown #where do you think she got it from ed #hint: it wasn't her mom

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septicsavvy · 5 years

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What was 2018 for me?

Hey y'all. So this last half of the year, I haven't been as active as I'd like to be in this community, which is a real shame, So I thought I'd share with you all why that is and what my plans are moving forward. This post will be extremely long so don't feel like you have to read through all of it. I just feel like I could use a little therapy session while also explaining myself to all of you. TW for depression, substance abuse, and... gross hospital stuff? Idk. Just know you've been warned.

The beginning of this year was phenomenal. We started out the wave of PMA and I hadn't felt that good in a really long time. I was incredibly motivated and excited to make change in my life. I had two part-time jobs at the end of 2017, but coming into 2018 I was offered a full time job with one employee, so I took it. Having that job allowed me to go to the HDWGH show for a second time AND bring my mom and sister as VIPs! Just a week later, I had my experience at Pax where I got to meet Jack in person, which was a rollercoaster of emotions for me.

During the spring, I had gone back to school to get my AA degree (that's a whole other complicated story), which was honestly great! I finally had my license and could drive to school anf work myself which gave me a lot of self-confidence, independence, and responsibility. Over time, work was getting to be too much for me on a social and emotional level, so I made the choice to quit. It wasn't easy, but I'm still glad I did it, for my own mental health.

Overall, the first quarter of the year was amazing. I was home with my family, living more responsibly and great things were happening here within the community. May of this year is when my life started to change for the worse, though.

You see, in October of 2017, my father was in a car accident and was deemed "at fault". We previously had some issues with our insurance overcharging us so we had to cancel while we found something else. It was during this brief time that the accident happened. Without any insurance, the other party sued us for $34,000 even though their insurance covered everything on their end. They came after us and relentlessly attacked my father over social media about it. To this day, I'm still not exactly sure how the accident happened, as it happened at 5am and my dad doesn't remember it.

My dad's dealt with pain all his life. He's had multiple surgeries on his back, his knees, and his feet. In 2010, he was diagnosed with colon cancer and was put on Fentanyl. He takes that and Oxycodone for his pain on a daily basis, but what they give him still doesn't help. Unable to sleep from all the pain, he takes Ambien. I believe that the night before the accident he took that Ambien which caused him to sleep walk, get into the car and crash into another person.

Regardless of what happened, the man he hit and his wife both mercilessly and publicly prayed that "this monster is never able to drive again". And they got their wish. In May of this year, my dad went in for a laminectomy, which is a type of back surgery, as a result of his injuries from the accident. While the man he hit did go through PT for a while, he has fully recovered and went back to work, while my father came out of the surgery paralyzed from the waist down.

For the last 8 months my dad has been unable to walk, which has uprooted our entire lives. He spent some time in a Skilled Nursing Facility for physical therapy, but due to poor workplace performance, he was sent back to the hospital three times. He had been starting to regain some feeling in his legs and was able to walk down a hallway with assistance. But he ended up with a terrible bed sore on his lower back, the infection of which started eating through to the bone. He needed yet another back surgery and the doctors said the wound would need at least a year to heal and he was unable to participate in any sort of physical therapy.

He's regressed both physically and emotionally. He's experiencing severe depression from the state that he's in, which hurts my heart. But at the same time, the way he takes his medication, and the amount he takes at one time, causes him to have acute toxic delirium. I won't go into too much detail on it, but basically it means his mental state is a joke. It's impossible to be around him, but we can't just leave him like this.

Though it feels somewhat wrong to me, my father is suing the hospital, the doctor who performed the surgery that paralyzed him, and the nursing facility that gave him the infected bedsore. We have no idea how long the process will take or how much we would get if we won. No matter the amount, it's highly likely all of that would end up going to cover the cost of all his hospital bills and perhaps time in another facility. He's at home now and we simply can't care for him in the condition he's in, but his insurance only covers 100 days in a facility, so we don't have any other options.

Life at home was rough, and it definitely started to get to me emotionally. As a result of all that stuff, I uploaded a vlog on my YouTube channel called "Real Talk: Motivation Is Hard" and in that video, I talked about how I was going to start making physical changes in my life. I joined a gym and started working out with my friend over the summer, while also trying to change my diet. I knew it would be hard going into it, but I knew I had to push through with a positive mental attitude and eventually it would get better.

Except it didn't. Four months of regular exercise and eating healthy only made me feel worse. I was more tired than I usually am and constantly hungry no matter how much I ate. It seemed that the more I worked on my body and health, the worse I felt. Crazy as it sounds, I made the choice to stop working out and change my diet back in order to feel better. Physically, that worked. While I did start to feel better than I did when I was working out, I simply regressed to the old way that I felt, which still wasn't healthy at all. This disappointed me, as you can imagine.

Now what? As my 23rd birthday rolled around, I was left out of college with no job, a weak body, and a depressed mental state. But at least I had this community, right?

I already talked about why I took my break over summer and my, then, feelings about Jack and the channel, so I won't go into detail, but if you didn't know about it, you can read it here.

So I took my break from Tumblr, I moved back to Chicago and suddenly my world shifted again. I had time to reflect, I was away from home and I got to focus more on my writing. I don't think I'm fully over everything that's happened this year, but mentally I'm feeling a lot better. I've made peace regarding my feelings about the community and I'm continuing to work through my feelings with my father.

Going into 2019, my main focus will be finishing my Bachelor's degree. I graduate in a few months and I have some big plans for my creative endeavors. I plan to take more time for self care, which will involve me making a lot more fan art. I will still work towards a healthier body but maybe I'll take it just a bit slower, like starting by cutting excess sugar out of my diet and being more mindful of why I feel a certain way. But more than anything, I'm going to try my best to "leave it in the day". Sometimes life will throw curve balls, and in the new year, I'll do my best to overcome those.

I don't know where the second half of next year will take me, but I hope you'll all be here for me while I figure it out. I'm endlessly grateful for you all. I hope you all find comfort and joy in the new year. Thank you all for your support.

#jacksepticeye #pma #what was 2018 #thank you all for your support

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uninterestedbisexualbitch-blog · 6 years

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for the ones that are trying hard

Hi! If you’re somehow seeing this, (which no one will because I have one whole follower that is a fake porn account) it’s about my struggles in my current life. I’m making it public to give people that are in similar predicaments someone to relate to. If you don’t give a shit, scroll along. If you do, sorry about my grammar or word choice (literally just writing to get shit off my chest). Enjoy :)

When you grow up in a shitty place like I did, you know that sometimes school is your only way out. And when your mental health is slowly degrading, it gets hard. I want to skip school all of the time, yet I know I just need to go. And no one told me how hard keeping good grades was in college. I need to read a book for history, reteach myself math, and take TONS of psychology notes by like Thursday but its only Tuesday, but I have to go to my dead end fucking job (I actually just found a new one with better pay, go me!). My coworkers that I once enjoyed working with are now gone. The holidays don’t start up for another month, so everything has been dead and slow. This job is no longer fun, fast-paced, and as of recently; if I fuck up (come in late, out of dress code, any minor workplace violation), I’m fired. I’m a good worker. I try and try at this job and I’m only making 8 dollars an hour, and have only been scheduled 4-8 hours per week.

With all of this going on, I am in the middle of trying to get on the road. I’m 18 and I don’t have a drivers license. I take public transportation to get to my college everyday. I hate myself for this. Everyone my age has a car and license. I know people look down on me. but what they don’t is how hard I’m trying. I spent an entire check on drivers ed, and I’m finally comfortable behind the wheel. I bought a car, too. It’s ugly, needs work, and is extremely dangerous to drive, and it’s accumulating late fees on the tag (last I checked it was 300). Time’s ticking, where’s your license, I cOuLD dRiVe WhEn i WaS oNlY 12. I’m receiving no financial help from my parents. The only thing they’ve bought me (since I’ve had a job) was utilities, and a few gifts here and there. They didn’t pay for my car, drivers ed, or books for school. I’m trying to do the best I can with the cards that stupid fucking life gave me.

Even if others don’t see the efforts I’m making to learn to drive and just improve my life in general, I do. I know I’m doing okay for most people my age (especially in the area I live in). But I feel like I’m also watching my friendships and relationship fall out of my hands. My best friend, my only friend, is having a baby. The dad is not present. I want to be there for her so bad, but I have to take care of myself too. I normally have weekends to myself, but they are usually spent with my boyfriend (of 2 years) because we don’t see each other during weekdays, due to conflicting school and work schedules. I love that boy. I do. But I feel like I’m watching him slip away from me, slowly, more and more every time we hang out. We fight non-stop (usually because of me). I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, and manic depression. I live untreated and un-medicated, partly by choice. I don’t have the money to talk to a professional, and I refuse to take medicine (no one wants to be a drugged out, emotionless zombie, amirite?). As a result, my emotions are very unpredictable. Little things set me off when they shouldn’t and I say and do things that I don’t really mean. I’m also very much a smartass. My smartassness has become so integrated into my personality that I don’t even know when I’m fucking doing it. MY boyfriend, just like anyone else, gets tired of me being a smartass, and gets upset. Then I get upset, because I think he’s mad at me for practically nothing, and from there on, we fight fire with fire.

I want nothing more to just become a better person. But college has turned me into an emotionless fuck. 8 hours of sleep is never enough. I lost my sense of personal style. And I smoke way too much fucking weed. I use to be in three sports, so it’s safe to assume that I was fit. My body is now ugly and soft. In summary, my confidence packed it’s shit and left.

But I’m trying. Slowly working to become the woman I am capable of becoming, and if I lose everything that I love in life, then so be it. But my drive is always here. I am trying.

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ausblack · 6 years

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Fighter | Prologue

[I decided to re upload the chapters and to re write them better because I hated how they were before. hope you enjoy them!!]

Summary: You were just trying to relax, you weren’t planning on finding out the school’s bad boy’s little secret.

Genre: Angst/Fluff/Probably smut/ Fighter-Boxer!au

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: A LOT of cursing/ a LOT of violence

A/N: Oh and by the way I wrote the chapter listening to this playlist and it’s the most relaxing thing ever You’re free to listen it as well HERE

“Wait..Slow down a second. We are what??” You looked up at your father’s face with a confused expression.

“We are moving.” He maintained an unfazed expression while you stared at your mother for further informations.

The living room was quiet and the tension could be cut with a knife as you and your parents shared mixed-emotioned gazes.

“But..It doesn’t make any sense. Why so suddenly?” You broke the silence with your unsteady voice and your mother sighed reaching out to hold your hand in hers, stopping you from biting on your black-colored nails.

“The situation here is worrisome and you know it, honey..You’re smart and you understand that not having a job for me is difficult. Your father’s workplace has been transferred and maybe if we go somewhere else I’ll be able to find a job as well. I already sent my applications around, we can’t stay here any longer.” She looked at you with a frown on her forehead and an hopeful smile on her face.

Your mother was the most kind and humble woman ever and you were thankful for her. She was the complete opposite of your dad and you loved how caring she was with you. She understood every concern that you had and she helped you whenever you had a problem. Her eyes always shined brightly when she looked at you and at your father, because she loved her family with all her heart.

Your father, on the other hand, educated you strictly and never really gave you much attention, because for him work was way more important than playing around with his daughter. He loved you as much as your mother but he couldn’t show it very well and that was the reason why you had some kind of hard feelings towards him.

“Is this permanent..?” You asked with a hint of sadness that your mother caught as soon as you spoke.

She sat next to you on the couch, caressing your hair.

“We don’t know exactly how much time we need to stay there, but I think that we can come back once we get more economical stability.” You father explained with his low voice while rubbing the back of his neck.

He was just as nervous as you about this drastic change, but he tried not to show it because he wanted to be strong for you and for your mother.

“The flight is in a couple of days. We thought that you needed a bit of time to say goodbye to your friends and to pack everything that you’ll need. The town where we’re going is not that far and we saw that there’s a college near our house. You can apply as soon as we arrive because your father have already called them.” Your mother added never leaving your hand. You smiled back at her and at your father, understanding the situation.

It wasn’t their fault and you didn’t have any right to get mad at them, because you knew that they did what was the best for your family, but you weren’t happy at all about this.

In the end, you’ve been living in your house ever since you were born; 18 years full of memories and encounters with people that now you probably weren’t going to see again.

You got up, facing your parents as they watched you cautiously,

“I guess that I don’t have any choice, do I?” You laughed nervously feeling a bit drowsy. Both of them smiled sadly at you understanding how you were feeling.

You looked at the time, realizing that it was kinda late and you still had school the day after.

“It’s okay, I’ll get use to that new place once we get there. Now I’m going to sleep because I’m tired.” You said yawning and they both nodded in understanding, saying goodnight.

“Rest well sweetheart.”

When you walked into your room, you jumped on your bed feeling your muscles relax at the contact with the soft mattress, releasing a breath that you didn’t notice you were holding.

You looked up at the ceiling, thinking about the new things that you were going to experience in just some days.

Making friends wasn’t easy at all, and neither was getting used to a new city, new people, a new house and new surroundings.

You were extremely introverted and you took a long time to make friends in the city where you lived. They were your classmates and they loved you for who you were, the shy and small girl that was quite nerdy as well.

You loved your own world, with books, movies and video games.

As cliché as it sounds, you were the type of girl that preferred to go on walks by herself rather than going on parties, but it wasn’t a problem for you. Sure, you could look like a loser but, even if you were lame, everyone accepted you that way.

You loved to go on walks by yourself whenever you felt stressed or upset for whatever the reason was and it helped you clear out your mind. Especially because you lived near a beach that was quite isolated.

You went there almost every night, going through the window in your room that was like a secret gateway.

Your best friend, Amy, knew that if you weren’t responding at any text, you were probably there and she always followed you because she was your neighbor.

The beach was a place where the two of you met at the end of the day and you were definitely going to miss those moments more than anything else.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock on your window and you didn’t even have to check who it was before opening it.

Amy’s smiling face greeted you as she got inside your room with a little help from you.

“I knew the you were probably depressing over the moving, so I came to cheer you up.” She hugged you patting lightly your back and you sighed in her shoulder.

“How did you know?” You asked her confused by her good-timing.

“Your mom called my mom five minutes ago telling her the news and I came right away.” You sat down on your bed and she did the same, placing herself next to you.

“It’s going to be okay, you’re going to make many friends.”

“Why are you so sure? It’s not that easy..” You tried to speak but she cut you mid-speech.

“It’s difficult only if you think that way. You need to relax and be comfortable. If you think of yourself as confident person, then everyone is going to see you as that.” She talked once again reaching forward to pick up two joysticks of your console.

“And never let anyone treat you badly, understood? You’re strong and badass so don’t be afraid of showing that.”

She held one joystick up in your direction.

“When did you become a poet?” You laughed and she scoffed.

“Bitch, I’ve always been one.” You punched her arm, making her whine jokingly, and you took the joystick from her hand.

“And remember to tell me about every guy that you find.” She added starting the game, with her gaze locked on the tv.

“How could I forget? I’ll even take photos of them, ok?” She hummed in approval and you laughed, playing with her and feeling the drowsiness disappear.

The two of you remained there the whole night, speaking and joking until the sun was up.

That was probably something that you were going to miss more than anything else.

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purplesurveys · 3 years

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1051

Are you between the ages of 30 & 40? I still have to get through nearly another decade to get to that decade.

What was your favorite Saturday morning cartoon growing up? My favorites were The Wild Thornberrys and Little Bill, both on Nickelodeon. My sister and I also enjoyed this wacky show called The Upside Down Show but it wasn’t a cartoon.

What was your favorite toy as a child? I liked any toy that had a lot of buttons or features within it - dollhouses, kitchen sets, cash registers, toy phones, anything that could make me test how much it could do.

In High School did you wear acid washed jeans? No. It’s not a style I would be drawn to, then and now.

How much was a gallon of gasoline when you first started driving? I don’t know; I never paid much attention to gas prices, honestly.

What was your first car? It’s a 2014 (or 2015?) Mitsubishi Mirage I’m still using today, though it was my dad who paid for it and he’s the one who takes it out for oil changes and stuff.

Who taught you how to drive? My dad taught me a few times around the neighborhood, but he also enrolled me for like three classes in a driving school so that I got to learn how to drive in a highway.

What was your high school mascot? Both of my schools didn’t have any. My university does have a nickname for our varsity teams, but we’re simply just ‘Maroons’ and not an animal like what I usually see.

Did you go to your Senior Prom? We had a junior prom, nothing for senior year. I was invited to go to the senior ball in another school by Mike, though. That feels like ages ago; everything is so different now.

What did you do after graduation? After my high school graduation I went straight to college like most kids here. After graduating college, I immediately started looking for jobs; I landed an internship after a month and got absorbed into the company two months after.

What was your first job? I’m currently working as an associate at a public relations agency. This is my first job and for now, I’m content in staying in this career. This is where I set out to be when I was in college and I don’t feel the need to change paths any time soon.

What did you want to be when you grew up? I wanted to be an astronaut more than anything else, but I remember also wanting to be a firefighter or a vet.

Any posters on your bedroom walls growing up? I had a handful of wrestling posters that my mom was never a fan of. It was never her business since it’s my room, but she always made it the case.

Do you remember the first time you drank a beer? It may have been at Marielle’s debut, five Julys ago. She served beer at the afterparty of her 18th birthday party, and I think I had taken my first sip then.

Did you ever try cigarettes? Yeah, I started this year actually. I’m about to reach my first anniversary of trying my first cigarette :/ I don’t have a lot of them though and I haven’t smoked since like February or March, I think.

How did you spend your summers growing up? At home. My parents were always busy with work, so I had no choice but to myself occupied at home. Luckily I had siblings and cousins, so we were always playing with each other. My summers were never productive until I was in college, when I started making the effort to go out more.

If you could change anything from your teenage years, would you? Ahh idk man I wish I wouldn’t have spent as much time by the computer as I did, and maybe hang out with friends or something instead. < Yeah this hits the bullseye pretty much. I was a very introverted teenager. Not to mention the internet and social media started to blow up during my tween/early teenage years, so I was hooked to my laptop and kept people away as a result. I didn’t start feeling like a teenager until I was 16, when I gained friends and got invited to more stuff.

Do you remember your first time? Yeah, it was during one of my 18th birthday celebrations and she was around.

Ever look back and wish some things were still the same? I do it a lot these days. I do try to stop, because I don’t know what I can gain out of doing so anymore, and because there’s always the danger of being left behind from looking back too much; but most days I can’t help it.

After high school - straight to college or straight to work? University, because you kinda need that credential where I live. It’s unfair, but it’s our reality.

How much did you make per hour at your first job? We don’t really calculate that here...I’ll try to do math for y’all lmao aka Google it, which says I make $2.34 an hour. Wow when you put it that way, it really does not sound high :/ I’m honestly okay with my pay though. I live with my parents so I contribute to the bills and stuff now, but even then there’s more than enough left for me. Favorite home-cooked meal growing up? My grandma’s kare-kare. It was/is always reserved for special occasions; and out of all her grandchildren I was also the one who got attached to the dish especially as I got older, so eventually kare-kare also became the family’s ‘Robyn is coming over so we better prepare this’ dish. I think I’m her only grandchild that she has an allotted dish for, so that makes me feel special :)

Favorite place to eat out growing up? The local Burger King, back when it had a play place for kids.

Did your parents live in a different country before you were born?: No, they have always lived in the Philippines. My mom has always wanted to migrate but my dad shoots it down every time.

Do you have a preferred coffee brand?: When it comes to coffee, no. I wanna try out everything. But when it comes to coffee shop ambience, Starbucks all the way.

Have you ever dated someone who was terrible with money?: No. I remember Gab as always being very cautious, responsible, and conscious about money. Her parents sustained her debit card and I’m pretty sure they always gave her a little bit extra, but she never took more than her weekly allowance from the ATM.

If so, how did it affect the relationship?: Money was never an issue, mostly because the money we received during the course of our relationship wasn’t even ours lol; we both received set allowances from our parents. If one of us was running out of cash, we never hesitated to cover for each other first, and we never pressured one another to pay back immediately.

How often do you paint your nails?: Never.

Do you know anyone who's related to a current or former world leader?: Yeah, I went to high school with a relative of Duterte. She’s super secretive about it, which is pretty understandable. I’m friends with/went to classes with people who are grandchildren of senators and other politicians as well.

Do you do your own taxes, or do you hire a professional?: ...I have no idea how to do that...I always just assumed it’s already taken care of when a part of my salary is deducted lol. I may have to ask my parents about this, whoops.

What is something you don't have any natural talent for?: Anything to do with music. Reading it, playing it, singing, writing songs, etc. Also art and anything to do with creativity.

Did you watch this year's Eurovision?: Ah, my favorite time of the year to mute all my overseas mutuals on Twitter at one point lmao. No, I never caugtht up with it.

Have there been any periods in your life that could be described as being chaotic?: Senior year was a big chaotic war zone. The death of my grandpa and my first breakup coincided with all the crucial college entrance exams. Speaking of college, it was also a period of a lot of heavy decision-making due to me having to make choices of what course I wanted to take in every school I applied to. I barely cried during those few months and it still shocks me to this day how I did it. That was the most I’ve been on autopilot.

What is something you frequently forget?: Where I place my car keys and/or glasses last.

If I looked in your fridge right now, what would I find?: Bread, eggs, a bunch of condiments, butter cheese, vegetables, leftovers, and the grazing box I received from my workplace yesterday. I’m sure there’s more, but I haven’t really stopped and stared at our fridge for a while now.

How do you feel about your body?: I used to feel fairly confident about it; like it was never an issue with me. But truthfully, after being dumped, I’ve started to feel insecure over everything about me.

Who is someone you would like to get to know better?: My teammates at work, Bea and Ysa. They both seem like cool and funny people both in and out of work, and I’d love to get to hang out with them.

If you had to move to a new city, where would you move?: Idk, just somewhere with a lot of opportunities to try new things and meet new people.

Have you ever traveled on a double-decker train?: Nope. I’ve never been on anything double-decker, if I remember correctly.

What's your opinion on assisted suicide?: [trigger warning] I’ve looked into it, but it’s a dead end where I live. That’s all I’ll say, as I don’t want to give others ideas.

At what point do you consider a relationship to be 'long-term?': Fuck if I know anymore. We reached six years and it was a point where I was comfortable and didn’t feel the need to doubt anymore; everything turned out to be a lie in the end. I don’t know anymore. I don’t think about these things anymore.

What jobs did your parents have when you were growing up?: My dad has always been a chef, so he went through all the ranks throughout my childhood until he finally got an executive position when I was in high school. I remember my mom being a receptionist.

Do they still have these jobs? Or different jobs? Or have they retired?: My dad is still in that career path but he doesn’t cook in the kitchen anymore, or at least as much as he used to. He does all the menu planning, evaluating, etc. My mom has shifted to becoming an executive secretary, but she’s still in the hotel industry.

Do you own any winter sports equipment?: I don’t. There’s no reason for me to have any.

Do you have a cell contract plan, or are you on a pre-paid plan?: Prepaid.

Would your parents be okay with you dating someone of another race? I can definitely see my mom reacting, but I know she knows I won’t let her get away with saying anything mildly offensive. My dad would just go on with his life and will care more about the fact that I’m seeing someone, lol.

Do you like when friends stop by unexpectedly? No. Schedule it ahead and let me know. I’m not always mentally okay and them showing up as a surprise might just make me more stressed than grateful.

Where are the following people and what are they doing: mom, dad, sibling(s), best friend, significant other, ex, and last person you kissed? My entire family is under the same roof in their bedrooms, either sleeping or having just woken up. Angela is in Parañaque, probably at a cousin’s place; no significant other; I have no idea where my ex, and also the last person I kissed, is. She doesn’t really have anything to do with me anymore.

How strong are your feelings for the last person you kissed? They’re there. I’d still take a bullet for them if it comes down to it, the usual shit. Let’s move on.

What was the last thing someone else bought for you? My workplace gave me a grazing box as the company Christmas gift.

If your parents looked in your purse/book bag would they find anything you don’t want them to see? What about your bedroom? Do you have anything hidden in there? My vape pens. I came home from Starbucks last weekend and my mom thought my breath smelled like cigarettes and she almost got super pissed until I was able to convince her the only thing I put in my mouth was coffee, so I know my 22 year old, employed, self-earning ass would for sure still get in trouble if I was discovered to be vaping.

How close are you to the last person you hung out with? Can you be your complete self around them? It was the first time I met them and they are also my bosses, so I can’t exactly be my complete self around them yet. I had to act super reserved and to essentially make a good impression first before I start whipping out my jokes or whatever.

If you decided to call your ex right now, do you think he/she would answer? How would the conversation go? No, she’d reject it and tell me to text instead. If she was feeling snappy she would also tell me I’m no longer in the place to contact her that way. Sigh. Who is she anymore and why is she so different from the person I was with?

Are you attracted to the last person you exchanged numbers with? No.

Is music a daily part of your life? It’s not. Videos, more like.

Yellow nail polish: yes or no? Bright or neon yellow is a no, but I suppose more muted shades like mustard yellow can work for me.

What do you think of country music? Eh, not a fan. I would skip it in a second, and I never think about it.

Have you ever ended a relationship but wish you could’ve kept it a little longer? I’ve never ended a relationship.

Did you go to your high school’s graduation? Yes...that’s not an event I would’ve wanted to miss out on lol. That was a nice day. My grandparents came to watch me, and we had dinner at a revolving restaurant after.

If you could live the last three months over again, is there anything you’d change? Everything went to shit exactly three months ago, so this hits home very hard for me. Yes, I would change a lot of things for life not to have gone the way it has.

Who was the last person to message you on Facebook? What would you do if that person told you they have feelings for you? My mom. I would be creeped out and tell my dad immediately.

How did you feel when you woke up today? Melancholic.

Who was the first person you talked to today? What did you talk about? I haven’t talked to anyone yet today. I was thinking of replying to Aliyah’s comment on my Facebook post, but in the end I didn’t think a response was necessary.

When you apply your make-up, do you do it in a specific order? I don’t wear makeup.

Did you do anything sexual last night? No.

Do you think the last person you Facebook messaged is a virgin? She has three children, me included.

Did any of your friends lose their virginity before they were 16? If so, did you feel pressured to do the same? I don’t think my friends did, but I probably know other people who did. My baby asexual ass definitely didn’t feel the pressure. I was even scared shitless for my first kiss when it came time for it and I had kept putting it off that night.

Has someone of the opposite sex made you smile today? No.

Does it matter to you if your significant other smokes? With my previous relationship, it did in the beginning; eventually I just stopped caring.

Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? I think it may have been Andrew.

Do you like where you are in life right now? No. I don’t know if a new year would make it better, or if it would help give me a healthier mindset. I just have to wait and see.

Do you hate it when there is a fly around you? Very much.

Is your mom overbearing? She can be.

Is there snow where you live? Never.

#survey #surveys

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birthdaystranger · 3 years

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Birthday Stranger #10 (2021)

This year I shared words & food with a person of color. This was an intentional effort, the goal of which was to try to tell a story that was different than those I’ve shared in years past.

I am grateful that this year’s stranger, SK, shared unique insight about his experiences as a Chinese American; however, I should note that by sharing SK’s story, I do not claim to be sharing the story of all Chinese Americans. SK’s is just one of many stories of people who share his ancestry & is just one of countless stories of BIPOC individuals I wish I could hear and share as well.

Because touching on race was so important to the project this year, I was dismayed when I realized after our first meetup that I’d have just told the same story as usual because I failed to bring up race. White privilege is the ability to never bring up a major life issue affecting someone of color whether by ignorance or by choice, and I felt I had fallen prey to this. I was humbled by SK’s willingness to chat online once more. So I want to start by saying thanks to SK for taking time to meet (virtually) with a stranger… twice.

I also want to send a solid shout out to DJ, the person who connected me with SK. I am deeply grateful to you.

In our conversations, SK brought up a specific question I find recurring in my head: “Why is your cultural identity important?” I hope you’ll consider this as you read & carry it with you in everyday life.

SK was born in California. His parents had just gotten married there after immigrating from Hong Kong (father) and Japan (mother). At age three his family moved to Taiwan so his dad could take a short-term position as a professor in molecular biology in Taipei.

As his teaching stint was ending, his father felt a calling to become a Christian minister. His family chose Saint Louis, Missouri for him to attend seminary & they moved to Olivette, which is northwest of the city. SK engaged the wheel of creativity in the form of drawing as an outlet as he struggled to fit in.

The second wheel SK would come to engage was pragmatism. The interconnectedness between these two wheels is something SK hones in life.

He attended Ladue High School – which is in a wealthy part of Saint Louis. SK considered this school as having social & racial diversity he didn’t observe in other Saint Louis areas. He explained that this was partly due to the mix of less affluent neighborhoods within the school district, like his own, and the bussing in of Black students as a result of desegregation. Through high school SK continued to feel like an outsider.

He was teased in both school & his neighborhood. “I was called [a racial slur] every day,” SK remarked. “I didn’t let it provoke me… I was one of maybe two [Chinese students] in a class of 200. [I kind of] just shrug[ged] it off hoping for something better in the future.”

The Chinese American church his dad pastored was the one exception to the harassment. It existed outside the realms of school & neighborhood. “I felt fortunate I had a safe space,” SK confided. He made friends there with other Asian Americans & noticed a contrast between Chinese American & Korean American mentalities.

The Chinese American families he knew had been in the US for three or four generations. This was in sharp contrast to his feeling of being a “newer immigrant.” SK also shared an attitude of self hatred that many Chinese Americans had at that time. “[The Korean people I knew] were proud in their nationality & acting in that capacity did not let that impact their ambitions” he extolled.

For this reason he gravitated towards Korean Americans. As he put it, “Thinking about it later on, it was because they weren't shy of their heritage. They were proud.”

SK didn’t feel this pride. Speaking of his family’s economic position he explained, “I [remember] not wanting people to see where we live. I was kind of embarrassed… because I knew from visiting a few friends’ houses over the years there was a whole other part of Ladue, that it was a world I was not privy to.” It was “an interesting dynamic to be in,” he concluded.

“I purposely picked a very liberal college environment where I felt like I would be challenged in lots of ways, not only with education & expanding my perspectives but also spiritually, knowing my faith would be challenged.” SK is referring to Oberlin College in Ohio where he attended. Oberlin was a forerunner in admitting Black students & the first to participate in coeducation of men and women in the country. It is historically known for its civil rights activism.

Oberlin describes itself similarly to the two wheels of pragmatism & creativity with which SK engages: “Oberlin's college-conservatory synergy inspires profound connections between intellectual and artistic exploration, theory and practice, creative freedom and professional discipline."

SK cited Oberlin as the place where he became more socially conscious & appreciative of his race as an Asian American & his interactions with other races especially with white Americans. “Into my adult years it was clear that being Asian American occupies a very special place in this society… [and I began to] reevaluate past relationships,” he added. “College was when I read Malcolm X for the first time [and] saw a lot of things through a new racial lens… appreciating my racial identity & history made me see things in another light,” he explained.

SK moved to China for one year after college to teach English. SK, harnessing pragmatism at every turn, used this time to take the LSAT & apply to US law schools. SK chose to defer & move to Texas where his parents had moved for another church. A member of the congregation urged SK to aim for something higher than the temp jobs he held. SK, taking the advice, worked as a paralegal at a local Chinese immigration firm. After sending his resume out he landed a job as a paralegal at a major law firm in New York City. This “whole new world” came with a whole new life.

SK entered law school after working as a paralegal & also volunteered teaching English to neighborhood children in Chinatown. The latter was a direct effort to do public interest & social justice work in order to “forge a path that wouldn't compromise [his] values.” SK also met up with a female friend he’d made in Saint Louis years before & they were married just before his third year of law school – a life-changing year.

During that summer SK went on a road trip with a friend to the Rocky Mountain region. They had plans to visit Native American reservations & the Badlands. In South Dakota they got in a bad car accident & SK suffered non life threatening injuries. He spent time in a hospital before returning to his new wife in New York City in a wheelchair.

Being homebound for his third year of law school didn’t prove problematic, as he had a job lined up. Making the most of this stressful time SK engaged the wheels of pragmatism & creativity; he took a screenwriting class through New York University.

SK graduated law school right after September 11th & passed both the New York & California Bar exams. The economic impact of 9/11 made his graduating class the last one whose members found jobs without great difficulty for a few years. Due to this economic opportunity & fading nonprofit offers he chose to work at a big law firm. After two and a half years at that firm he began a private practice in Chinatown.

The organization where he’d taught English as a volunteer during law school offered him free office space if he returned as a volunteer. He jumped at the opportunity. SK felt satisfied with his career & the screenwriting class – which gave his creative energy direction.

SK began working with a lawyer he’d met. Their joint subway rides increasingly included a shared passion of film & ultimately they decided to make one. They researched guerrilla filmmaking & started a documentary.

For a year they “basically [did their] solo practices during the day… and then at night would come together & document Asian culture in New York City.”

SK gave insight into the lives of Asian Americans in the US. He explains, “There’s an illusion of being able to walk within two different worlds & straddle some boundaries.”

He said, “Asian Americans wield the concept of diversity as a practical tool; [being] diverse [enough] to continue [making] it in [the white corporate] world.” He explained that during work hours many Asian Americans are seen as diverse inasmuch as they spend time with their white counterparts.

This pressure is similar to what SK felt at school & in his neighborhood. The documentary points to places some Asian Americans go to be themselves uninhibited, as simply one more in their own culture. “Many club-goers went to church the next day or if not, that club was their church,” SK eloquently proposed.

SK admits there is a shameful element in this practice though… a shame in “doing anything exclusively Asian.” Many people they interviewed feigned reluctance of being at an Asian club. "I didn't want to come” and “My friends dragged me" are two examples SK gave of this. Extracting their reasoning a bit more it was explained that if coworkers or bosses knew of this activity there might be some disapproval for not continuing to be ‘diverse’ outside the workplace. This walking-on-eggshell-for-white-culture element points to a nuance of white fragility; a mindset of “aren’t we enough?!”

“I think there is [also] this cultural element of not wanting others to feel uncomfortable” SK confided, adding, “If there's too many Asians in one place white people begin to feel uncomfortable.” The example he gave was, “[If a group of Asians] walk into a restaurant & are called a name as they walk by… The conclusion is that we’re not welcome or we're a threat somehow… there’s a deep animosity & hatred.”

SK noted other groups represented in the documentary such as Latinx showed “no sense of that shame or desire to hide” their motives from their coworkers. This left SK speculating “If Asian Americans think of diversity as a pragmatic tool what do other groups think of it as?” He acknowledged, “I am always aware of privileges as Asian American that I have, that my Black friends don't necessarily have & I am aware of the benefit of the doubt. That is something I don't think is given to [Black people] as readily as [Asian Americans], especially in the corporate world.”

The documentary’s positive reception resulted in financing for a screenplay SK & his partner had written. Working with a full crew, they completed the film in 2007 and it was released across the US in various festivals with acclaim. Though things were going well he admitted, “Life continued on.” SK said of his partner, “We went on our own different paths career-wise.”

Around this time, SK & his wife had their first child & realized they could not rely solely on the support of his private practice. While he applied for jobs, SK became a stay-at-home dad. During that time he began producing electronic music, released a few records, & even played gigs in North America. Between this trying schedule & raising kids, SK was always focusing on supporting his family & maintaining a day job.

SK took care “not [to] harbor resentment about being pragmatic” during this chapter in life. However, even in pragmatic life his subway commutes turned his creative wheel; the sketches he made of subway passengers he began selling online. “I found comfort in the possibility that when I cultivate my creative life and other parts of my life, that it does spill over into my getting paid life,” SK contends. In his constant effort to be socially conscious he donates some of these proceeds to an organization working against mass incarceration.

SK finds himself wondering, “how much motivation I'd have to participate in [civil rights] today [if it wasn’t for my wife.” SK maintains she “is the one who has become more politically active & getting us out there to protest & march [with the kids].”

Depressingly there has been violence perpetrated on Asian populations due to ignorance & misplaced anger in the light of the COVID-19 pandemic. This is something SK is dealing with too.

Lately he has gotten up extra early to drive his wife & her coworker to their workplace to avoid the subway – which SK argues is usually a safe space, especially during rush hour.

As we talked about cautiously approaching the end of the pandemic SK reflects on the state of our culture; “The former president was an enabler & emboldened the darkest things in our society. Are we just going to go back to normal? What is going to have changed after the pandemic?” He adds, “I think a part of me is resigned to the way things are, [which is something] I am sad about & I don't want to be like that” but contends, “I can't unknow things that I know.”

At this point I felt a familiar twinge in my heart – I share these very same feelings of concern about the future. Does enough of the population have the goodwill & heart to break centuries-long systems of hate… a hate not limited to the US?

Up until the pandemic SK’s dad traveled to China to teach in secretive underground seminaries. These places of true faith are forced to exist in the back of stores & the upstairs of businesses due to an sometimes overreaching & oppressive government. Real faith, no matter the religion or practice, is a dedication to others.

There is an aching chasm between small groups of people who hide in order to work towards that end & large groups of people who use religion or any practice opposing that end.

When asked if his children have been victims of racism he beamed, “I have not heard of one incident,” adding, “my oldest is really proud to be Asian [and] talks with his friends about [it].” SK noted, “There’s a vocabulary that is available to him that wasn’t when I was his age.” His use of the word “vocabulary” is significant. Vocabulary is a tool & it is tools around which SK’s approach to life is based.

Tools connect pragmatism & creativity; one can draw blueprints or passengers on the subway. SK lives the paradox he believes in: “if you push hard in one thing it allows you to push hard in another.” I honestly believe his approach to life is apt for the messy frontier that antiracist work is.

Many of us, myself included for too long, held back from this frontier thinking: this isn’t my fight. When we do realize it’s our fight many of us still hold back because we don’t know how to battle it. But this is just what SK’s approach to life points to: “Working towards an end & finding ways to get there.”

Viewing tools in this light I bring up SK’s questions again: Why is your cultural identity important?

Speaking as a white person, our cultural identity is important because of the ubiquitous, strong, & leveraged tool it is. Not knowing how to use this tool individually is completely acceptable for one important reason. Practicing using a tool is none other than using the tool; trying to paint is literally painting. The goal is unified though; as SK articulately expressed, “Finding efficient solutions to problems comes from the same creative well.”

SK’s approach to life has inspired me to harness the creativity inherent in engaging antiracist work. I hope it has done the same for you.

#Birthday Stranger #2021 #42nd

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