#insulting victims to cover up for lack of empathy

[furiousgoldfish]

‘you’re only pretending for the attention’ WHAT ATTENTION? Do you think you insulting me is the attention I WANT? Do you think I would ever get any other attention for this? What fucking attention am I getting?! Stop LYING.

#invalidation #victim shaming #victim blaming #lack of empathy #insulting victims so they don't need to take accountability #insulting victims to cover up for lack of empathy #victims don't get attention for being abused #we get shamed invalidated told its our own fault #like hell we'd go thru the trouble of faking something just to be kicked down #stupid lies

[lilywastaken]

⇝ refuge .

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!AFAB!Reader.

PART FOUR OF MÉNAGE.

SUMMARY: After a mission goes wrong, the 141 seek shelter in Ghost's so-called "safe house".

WARNINGS: Canon typical violence, blood, wounds, stitching of wounds, mentions of abuse, first fluff in a while.

A/N: My fingers hurt I'm actually going to pass out now goodbye <3 (PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO COMMENT AND REBLOG IF YOU ENJOYED IT HELPS A LOT!!!)

WORD COUNT: 11.2k.

MASTERLIST.

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Also on Ao3!

Ghost’s hands were covered in blood. 

Although this was nothing out of the ordinary for a trained soldier like him, as he’d washed away many gallons of blood off of him in the time where he’d been on the field, this was different. 

It wasn’t the enemy’s blood that covered him, no. It wasn’t even his soldiers’ blood. 

It was civilian's. People that had been going about their day. Casualties in the mess that had erupted with a single missed bullet. 

It was his fault. 

If he hadn’t let himself grow distracted with the banter that erupted from his ear piece, if he had paid more attention to the target Laswell had given him, he would’ve been able to game end them right there and then like he had many before, instead, the bullet lodged right in his chest above the heart, enough time to stun the man but not enough to stop his other hand from clicking the detonator. 

The chaos that had followed was indescribable. He could still feel his ears ringing from the explosion that had occurred, the screams of the people he could have saved, the panicked shouts and roars from Price as he ordered them about. 

Ghost followed the order mindlessly, his body on some type of autopilot that had been turned on after the shock, taking out the other targets that had been lingering around until the bomb had gone off, his emotion-fueled mind taking out it’s anger on them by tearing them apart in the most gruesome ways possible. 

But he knew that covering himself in as much enemy blood as he could wouldn’t wash away the innocent’s. 

It wouldn’t wipe away the countless deaths he’d caused. 

But as he watched his final victim bleed out on the ground, ignoring their screams of pain and the insults that were being hurled at, Soap’s voice came through his earpiece. 

“Bastard’s gone. Cannae find him anywhere.”

Ghost’s blood boiled, combat boot slamming down onto the man’s head to finally shut him up, a last act of mercy and a way to express the anger rushing through his veins.

Even after they’d retreated back to the base they’d made theirs in the outskirts of Berlin during their mission there, Ghost couldn’t shake his disgusting feelings off his shoulders.

He’d never been the one to cause such a massacre like this. It was always some rookie or other, never a seasoned Lieutenant like him. 

Soap and Gaz’s conversation was just static to his ears, his mind spiralling as he thought about all the people around the city who had lost a family member today because of him. 

It wasn’t the first time in a mission where there’d been casualties. But never as many as this. And never had it affected him like this. 

The empathy he’d lacked almost all his life had suddenly made itself known in his mind, the little voice gnawing at the back of his head as it fed him scenarios linked to the mission they’d just failed, impossible if he were to think about them clearly, but right then, he couldn’t stop his heart from beating as fast as it could against his ribcage as he thought about the possibility of you or Tommy being involved in something like that, of having to carry the guilt that would no doubt haunt him all his life if that were to happen. 

He fucking hated it. 

He’d been deep in thought when they finally arrived at the base, the humvie’s doors opening as the other three stepped out, Price the only to take note of Ghost’s dishevelled state. 

“Lieutenant.”

…

“Ghost.”

…

“Simon!” Along with the bellow of his real name, the captain’s hand came down to slam onto one of the leather seats, finally pulling Ghost out of his stupor. “We’re here.”

“Copy.” He grunted, pushing himself out of the car and following his captain and the other two back to base mindlessly, almost like a zombie. 

It didn’t get better from there. Even as Laswell reassured him that it hadn’t been anyone's fault, that they hadn’t planned on the man wearing a gun vest, that even if he had succeeded in shooting him down, he wouldn’t be the only one with a detonator as found in one of the man’s lackey’s front pocket, that the explosion would have happened either way… He couldn’t help but still feel horrible. 

“Any idea where he is, then?” Price asked, looking through some of the files they’d been given on their runaway. 

“Probably went back home.” Gaz suggested, pointing out the address for a flat he had somewhere in the outskirts of Manchester.

“Called the airport, they told us a man with similar build and looks boarded a plane for Liverpool over two hours ago. He’s probably already out of the airport.”

Soap clicked his tongue, looking down at the address Gaz had mentioned before. “That’s his maw’s flat. Reckon he’d put ‘er in danger?”

“Doubt he’d care. He was happy to kill countless people for his cause, including his men and himself, what’s one more?” Ghost grunted, throwing the file down and leaning back in his chair, sharp gaze focused on the digital map Laswell had brought up, looking at the location of the terrorist’s house. 

“It’s not near any major buildings and isn’t close enough to the city to cause a commotion.” Laswell noted as she looked over the hills and lakes that surrounded the small house. “Good hiding place.”

“And if he’s not there?” Gaz asked, handing all the files back to Laswell, who gave him a solemn look. 

“We keep trying. Go get ready, I’ll call for a heli to take you all back to England. Try and get him, preferably alive, but be wary of any more guards or lackeys he might have brought with him. You’re all dismissed.”

Everyone was armed to their teeth by the time they’d made it back to English territory, night vision goggles pulled above their head as they had realised the trip took a bit longer than expected due to the cargo they had been asked to bring back to England in the process, the sky darkening even further with every second they spent on the helicopter. 

“Ghost, how copy?” Price shouted over the sound, elbowing Ghost in the side when he didn’t seem to hear him.

“What?!” Ghost shouted back, forcing out the pressure that clogged up his ears in order to hear properly. 

“How are you?! Never seen you this melancholic!” 

Ghost huffed out a laugh, tightening the straps of the seatbelts around his chest, as if they were the one putting pressure on his lungs. 

“Fine, captain!” He snapped, turning to look out of the small window row behind them. “Just ready to kill this fucking bugger!”

“Copy that!” Price slammed one of his burly hands onto Ghost’s shoulder, an act of encouragement the captain found himself giving to each of his members every time they went on a mission. 

After that, the helicopter went quiet, focusing on the mission ahead of them. 

Which in foresight, was expected to be relatively easy, a copy of many before them where they’d all come out victorious. 

But this one differed. 

The target wasn’t even that dangerous in itself, he was just some bloke who had had the brilliant idea to make an organisation that had somehow ended up planting bombs in almost every major city under the government and army’s radar. It hadn’t been up to now where they had finally learned who was behind it and where their next target was, but even then, they’d failed in protecting the civilians. 

Something they had spent almost a year investigating, fighting, taking down so many factions across the world to get to the top of the pyramid, the man behind it all. 

And fuck, if Ghost wasn’t going to make all the time he’d spent stressed and infuriated out of his mind on a wild goose chase for this fucking guy worth it. If he’d never fucking existed, the task force wouldn’t have gone through all that just to lose him, he wouldn’t have ruined the relationship he’d began with you, he would’ve had a proper go at being Tommy’s dad from the get-go. 

But a group of people that had afforded to build and plant so many bombs across so many countries, were to have enough money to hire bodyguards en par with the skill the 141 had. 

And that’s just what they had. 

Just like them, they were well-equipped with as many guns and weapons that the group’s money could buy, and while normally most men like these were just random guys picked off the street who had had guns shoved into their hands, these weren’t. They were trained, skilled enough to almost knock Soap’s gun out of his hands, and although that wasn’t what had happened, it had given them enough time for one of their bullets to graze his leg, not enough to fully bury itself into the flesh but enough to make him bleed and buckle to the ground. 

Ghost grabbed Soap by the scruff of his jacket, quickly disposing of the man that had shot him and pulling him up, letting the scot lean on him for balance. 

“Captain, Soap’s been hit!” Ghost roared into his radio, letting Soap lean on the wall while he grabbed some bandages they were always advised to bring and helped Soap in stopping the bleeding that the graze had caused. “Can you walk, Johnny?”

“Feckin’ adrenaline’s runnin’ through me, LT., could carry a horse if ye told me to.”

“Atta boy.” He handed him his gun so he could defend himself while they got out of the top floor. “Sir, the first floor’s clear. Taking the sergeant back to the car.”

“Roger. Be careful, fucker’s nowhere to be found down h- Fuck, Gaz!”

The sound of a gun going off and the roar from their captain made both men freeze in place, the dying grunts of someone coming through the radio before Gaz finally spoke, voice wheezy and hurt. 

“‘M fine, just- Fuck, that cunt stabbed me!” 

They made their way to the bottom of the stairs, where unfortunately, one of the men was waiting for them, stabbing their tactile knife right into Ghost’s shoulder thanks to the fact that he’d switched off his night vision goggles moments before, and wouldn't have seen them in the dark.

“Fuck, where do they keep comin’ from!?”

“Captain!”

“I see ya! Ghost, Soap, meet us outside, there’s not enough of us to take these fuckers out!” Price commanded, all of them responding with a “Roger!” before barreling their way out of the house, shooting a few more men in the process until they both shoved themselves into the car, Ghost immediately grabbing at the keys and pushing them in, getting everything ready while they waited for the other two, that quickly retreated into the back and slammed the doors shut, the captain slamming his fist into the back of GHost’s seat and ordering him to drive.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Gaz cried out as he held onto his wound, planting his feet on the floor as he realised who was driving, both him and soap squeezing their eyes shut as the blond slammed onto the accelerator, bringing the car out of the rocky driveway of the house and back out into one of the main roads. 

As the adrenaline started to fade from all of them, Price lazily raised a hand to grab at Soap’s shoulder, looking down at the bullet wound. “Still in one piece?”

“Yeah… Don’ think Lt. can say the same.” He pointed over to the stab wound in Ghost’s shoulder, that luckily had been right over his tactical gear, so it hadn’t caused as much damage as the perpetrator clearly intended. 

“‘M fine, Johnny. Worry about yourself.” He grunted, trying to ignore the pain that came with taking a turn with the steering wheel, every single time he moved his arm striking pain into the wound, the adrenaline from before having done a good job at keeping him from realising the amount of pain he had been currently in. 

“What about you, Gaz?” Soap called out, turning his head to look at the other as Price got his radio out, planning on informing Laswell on the second failure of the day. 

“Not dead.” He joked, tightening the bandage around the cut on his arm. “Gonna need stitches or something.”

Everyone went silent as Laswel’s voice came through the radio, broken and incomplete, but they could slightly understand what she was saying. 

Of course, the terrorists had also managed to hack into their servers while the task force was on their way and had made preparations for when they had inevitably barged into their house to arrest the man. 

The base back in London was almost a four hour drive away, and they doubted that their wounds would be in perfect condition after that long of a time, they needed to be disinfected and treated as soon as possible. 

“Any safe houses ‘round here that we might have access to?” Price called out, listening to what he assumed was Laswell looking through files.

“None that they don’t have access to.”

“Hospital?”

“Too far.”

All of them collectively sweared, Ghost’s grip tightening around the wheel as he took a right into one of the roads leading towards Manchester, the same road he took every time he came back from base to see you. 

You…

“Don’t you live in Manchester?” Gaz called out, kicking Ghost’s seat like a kid asking if they were there yet. 

“Not safe. If they have the locations of our safe houses, they have the locations of our own.” Price called out. “Unless one of you has a secret house off the grid or some James Bond mansion.”

Silence filled the car. 

Now, it had passed through Ghost’s head when they first started talking about safe houses, but it wasn’t really his house, after all. It was yours, Your space, your flat, your building. Not his. He was nothing but some sort of weird tennant. 

And his flat would have been the first place to take them to if it hadn’t been compromised, but now that he knew that that idea was out of the picture, he couldn’t help but continue thinking about your flat. With the safety kit he’d given you once after Tommy had gotten a scratch; with the pullout sofa he used every time he was over; with all the warmth and comfort he wished for every time he finished a mission. 

And he knew it wasn’t fair on you, it was extremely late compared to the times he came back in the night, you were probably fast asleep curled in your bed like you always where when he checked up on you; and it wasn’t fair to suddenly just shove three more men into your personal space, but as he took another turn and his shoulder throbbed, as he heard Gaz hiss whenever the car bumped a little, as he watched Soap try his best to stop the bleeding occurring from his wound, he knew that the worries Simon had couldn’t overcome the panic and danger Ghost was in. This was an emergency. 

“Know somewhere, sir.” Ghost spoke out, his voice hoarse, as if he’d been keeping the secret deep inside of him for longer than a minute. “Safe house, I mean.”

“You’re certain it’s safe?” Price questioned, Laswell going silent on the other side of the radio as well. 

“Positive.”

That’s how he found himself copying the exact route he always took to your place, passing the same pubs, the same shops, the same flats… Up until he parked a few blocks away from yours like he always made sure he did. 

“This it?” Gaz asked concerned as he gazed upon a closed Greggs, Ghost letting out a huff of amusement. 

“No, a bit further up.”

Since Ghost and Price were the only ones who were able to walk without limping, they took it upon themselves to be the ones to help the other two reach the building, Ghost’s hand inexplicably shaky as he stuck the key in like he’d done over a dozen times before, shoving them all into the elevator. 

“Quiet.” He hissed to them as Gaz let out a small pained cry, not wanting to wake up the ever-so irritable neighbours or cause you any alarm if you were still awake. 

He felt bad as he slotted the second key into the door, thinking about how scared you could be if you heard him coming, pushing it open with his healthy arm and letting it creek open. “Don’t open any doors. Find a place to sit. Don’t move, don’t make a sound, don’t interact with anything.” 

The three nodded at his warning, Gaz and Soap slumping onto the sofa as soon as they could and Price taking a seat at the island as Ghost slowly closed the door and turned on the light, dimming it down so it wouldn’t alert you nor Tommy. 

As Gaz and Soap whispered between themselves, wondering how the hell Ghost kept a house in such a tidy and pretty state (“Reminds me of my maw’s.” Soap had commented, making Gaz nod and laugh.), Simon pushed open Tommy’s door, listening in to the telltale sound of his son’s breaths to make sure that he was okay, turning around to find Price looking at a small stuffed animal sitting on the counter along with a dummy, his eyes wide in realisation as he turned to his lieutenant.

“Simon-” 

“Yeah.” He brushed past, tapping on the back of Soap’s head to catch his attention. “Up, I’ll deal with you first.”

“Oh, I’m honoured!” He said in a faux-british accent, lifting himself off the sofa with his help and leaning against one of the walls Simon had placed him against. 

“You’ve got a really nice gaf, didn’ expect this from ya.” Gaz commented as Ghost looked through some of the drawers around your flat, trying to remember where the hell he’d seen you put the medkit last. 

“Yeah, you're a classy one aren’t ya, Lt.? Place’s better than mine, I mean, have ya seen your sofa?” He chuckled, signalling towards the plush pillows Gaz was leaning against now, the cute crocheted blanket hanging on the back. 

Ghost ignored all of their remarks, slamming one of the drawers shut and pulling himself up, nodding towards your bedroom door. “Shut up. I’m going to check the bathroom. Not a word.”

Soap seemingly assumed that the door Ghost had gestured towards was the direct entrance into the bathroom, so in order to help his lieutenant out a bit, his hand moved towards the doorknob while Ghost started pulling off his combat boots, not wanting to make a sound when he went into your room. 

But, apparently, the small sounds they’d been making should have been his main priority, by the way you were almost waiting at your bedroom door with a gun raised to Soap’s forehead, ready to shoot just like he’d taught you in a situation like this one. 

“Steamin’ fuckin’-”

Ghost couldn’t rid himself of his boots fast enough before Soap’s hand was instinctively around your neck, the adrenaline that was rushing through both of your veins making it easier for him to ignore the pain shooting through his leg to defend himself and for yourself to scratch and pull at the hand around your throat. 

“Soap!” Price shouted as he pushed himself off his seat, noting the panic that had filled Ghost’s normally stoic eyes at the mere sight of you in pain, slowly putting two and two together. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing!?” Ghost roared, abandoning his shoes as soon as he saw your eyes roll back into your skull, a telltale sign that you were about to pass out due to the scot’s strong grip on your neck, while normally it would’ve taken way longer for someone to pass out. 

The sight of your legs going limp in Soap's grasp was enough for Ghost to see red, moving like he did on the battlefield to reach Soap, grabbing him by the neck and throwing him onto the ground like a ragdoll, secretly hoping the grip he’d grabbed him with was strong enough to cause him the same pain you were undoubtedly in, arms immediately rushing towards your flailing body and pulling you into his chest, one of his gloved hands holding the back of your head as the other pulled your shaking legs up. 

He didn’t really care that he might’ve seriously hurt Soap, gaze and attention fixed on the tears running down your cheeks and the paleness to your normally warm skin, the wheezing breath leaving you as your body tried its best to regain the breath Soap had just stolen from you, your hands clinging to his tact gear instinctively as you coughed with every attempt to breathe.

Once he made sure you were definitely still awake and breathing, he brought you closer to him, the hold on you similar to some desperate attempt at the bridal style, almost like a mutt protecting its territory.

“What the fuck, were you thinking, Saergant!?” He shouted, glaring down at the man, who was rubbing at his neck looking up at you both in confusion. 

“Well, I’m sorry for protectin’ myself against someone who was armed, Lt.!” He shouted back, being helped back up by his captain, who seemed torn between who was in the right and who was in the wrong. 

“Did you even stop to think-”

“Oh, because you feckin’ warned me about the armed woman who’d be waitin’ for us!” Soap interrupted, coughing out.

Ghost clenched his jaw, turning to make eye contact with Price, who just shook his head at him, imploring him to just let go. 

“We’re all stressed. It slipped Ghost’s mind to tell us about her and you shouldn’t've had reacted like that. You’re both in the wrong.” 

Neither of them spoke, knowing that the Captain, as always, was right. 

“Go take care of her.” 

He didn’t have to tell Ghost twice. He and Soap shared one final glance, one that only they knew what meant, full of words neither of them would dare to share out loud, but they understood. 

The gun luckily hadn’t gone off during the whole kerfuffle, letting Ghost lean down and pick it up carefully, clicking on the safety before sliding it into one the spare holsters, not trusting himself enough to carry a loaded gun while you were still in his arms. 

He pushed the door open, your coughs continuing as your eyes started fluttering open, trying to drive away the flurry of tears that were still streaming down your cheeks and wetting your clothes, a broken croak of his name leaving you. 

“It’s me, don’t worry. Just me, love. Just me.” He reassured you the whole way back to the bed, propping you up onto the soft mattress and letting you fall back, kneeling onto the carpeted floor and letting his head rest against the sweet-smelling covers, lifting his head as one of your hands pawed at his mask. 

He tried ignoring you for a few moments as he took the gun back out and expelled the mag, squeezing his eyes shut as another one of your sobs reached his ears, shoving the gun and mag back into the drawer it had been in before finally turning to look at you properly.

“Simon…” You managed to get out, cringing at the sound of your voice, still slightly delirious from the lack of air in your brain. “What… It- It hurts…”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry.” He whispered, grabbing at your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Just breathe f’me. It’s okay. No one’s going to hurt you.”

He didn’t even know what he was saying at this point, just reacting to every single thing he usually told himself when he was in the midst of a panic attack ever since he was young.

“Who…”

Your eyes darted over to the door, where both of you could still hear the other talk, flinching as one of them spoke a bit too loud. 

“They’re with me. Soap, he was the one to… I’m sorry. I should’ve warned you before coming, we were in the middle of a mission and-”

“Oh my god, Simon!” You cried out, startling the both of you. You propped yourself up, shaking a bit due to the dizziness but grabbing onto his non-wounded shoulder all the same. “You’re bleeding!”

In the midst of everything that had just happened, he seemed to have forgotten the stab wound, his free hand coming up to touch at the now drying blood with a hiss. 

“It’s fine. Listen, you-”

“No! It’s not fine, oh my god!” You felt a bit queasy as you noticed the blood that also stained his hands and tact vest, hoping to god that it was his even though deep down you knew that it wasn’t. “What- How are you so okay with this!?”

He grabbed both of your hands before they reached to grab at his wounded shoulder, staring deep into your foggy eyes. “Don’t worry about me.”

Don’t worry about him? 

He was fucking freebleeding in the middle of your bedroom like it was a goddamn hobby! How could you not worry about him!?

“I’m fine. How’s your throat?” He let go of one of your hands to bring it up to your neck, fingers softly grazing against a few darkening spots adorning your skin, reminders of what had happened before. 

“It… It still hurts to speak. Kind of.” You closed your eyes as the tough material of his gloves brushed against you so gently, surprised that such items that had been used to rip countless people apart were capable of a touch so sweet, so soft, so caring…

You swallowed, the movement of your throat beneath his hand quickly alerting himself of what he was currently touching, holding, and making him let go, going back to search for your other abandoned hand, making it easier for him by raising it and meeting his halfway.

“I’m sorry. For not telling you we were coming.” The apology seemed to slip from his lips oh so easily, compared to when you’d first let him in to explain himself, when he’d clearly physically struggled to speak those two damned words…

“‘We’?” You repeated, feeling his hands tighten around yours. 

“Soap’s not the only one. Price and Gaz are also here.” He explained, his eyes motioning towards the door. “We were compromised, in a way. Needed somewhere to go, and I just…”

You looked away, already knowing the ending of the short recap of the night, looking down at your linked hands, gaze darting back up to the blood staining his arm. 

“It’s… Fine.”

It really wasn't. You knew you had every right to be angry with him and the three other men he’d brought along, this was your flat! Your home, your building, your living room they had no doubt made their own in the small time you’d been in the bedroom with Simon, and without even thinking about the bruises forming at the base of your neck you already had enough reasons to let your anger boil over. 

But you stayed silent as he waited for you to snap, to scream at him, to add even more salt in the wound that had formed both mentally and physically tonight; silent as he took your hands and helped you climb out of bed and cling onto him for balance as you regained the feeling in your legs (that were being invaded by the stabbing feeling of pins and needles); silent as he pushed the door open and walked out with you concealed behind him like some tactical weapon. 

You were pleasantly surprised to see that unlike your fears the men had seemingly not touched a single thing in your living room, standing next to the kitchen island despite one of them clearly having problems with standing. 

He made eye contact with you, your blood running cold as you realised that he had been the one to cause the soreness that now racked your throat, immediately moving to tear your gaze away from him but stopped as he did it first, looking down at his shoes as if ashamed, and by the way he stayed silent while the other introduced themselves, he was. 

The captain was nice enough, he clasped your hand in a firm handshake, one that you assumed he’d been practising for longer than you were alive, and he had a very kind face despite the work you knew the four men did, but you couldn’t help but feel at ease in his presence, an effect you assumed he had on everyone by the way they seemed so lax instead of freaking out over the wounds littering their bodies like you would. 

Gaz gave you a smile and a nod, not even attempting to outstretch either of his hands to you due to the tear up his arm and the other hand pressing a bloody piece of cloth to the wound in hopes of keeping himself from losing too much blood. 

“Soap.” Ghost’s voice came out low and gruff, a tone of voice you’d never heard from him, and you thanked whatever god was up there that you’d never heard it directed to you, because clearly you weren’t as strong as the Sergeant in front of you and would’ve immediately crumbled into fear.

“I’m sorry.” He immediately spoke out, his accent thick around each word as he outstretched his arm, poised out for a handshake. “I hope I didn’ hurt you t’much.”

Although the burn from his hand was still there, a constant reminder for the rest of the night of what had happened, and though it would take a bit of while for you to let go of it, you still raised your hand up to his, clasping it in a much weaker handshake than his Captain’s, but it was firm nonetheless, confirming your “acceptance” to his apology for now. 

“I would have done the same if I had your strength, don’t worry.” You tried lightening up the mood, despite the anxiety that still tugged at your mind, letting go of his hand and going back to standing next to Simon, your arm pressed right against his, hoping that his massive frame would do something to help hide you. 

A warm hand came up to your waist, the hairs on your body standing on end as Ghost’s breath hit the shell of your ear. “Go check on Tommy.”

Tommy.

Your stomach dropped at the realisation that you hadn’t even thought about your poor son in the whole time you were awake, too focused on yourself to even think about what fear he could be going through after hearing more than the two voices he was used to in the small apartment, your breath hitching as the hand slowly pushed you towards the nursery door, like you were a dog in need of direction.

“Tommy?” Gaz breathed out as Ghost led him to the kitchen sink, letting the man run his arm under the stream of cold water, washing away any of the crusty blood that stuck to the skin, while Ghost continued his search for the medkit.

The man stayed quiet, not even bothering to even think of beginning to explain Tommy, and by association you and whatever relationship you had, already having had struggled enough when deciding to open up to Price about it, not needing to do it two more times. 

“His son.” Price answered for him when he saw that Ghost was making no move to answer, the skull-faced man turning to send a quick glare in his captain’s direction before being shot down with one of the same calibre. “Don’t ask more, though. Bugger still likes keeping his secrets.”

Both Soap and Gaz turned to Ghost with matching expressions, dumbfounded by the information they had just been fed, unbelieving that the man they knew as Ghost, the Ghost that they had watched kill people with a single hand, the Ghost that seemingly felt no emotions towards any of them or anyone, the Ghost they’d worked so hard to even get a sliver of information out of him was indeed a father. An actual father, with a real son who had a mother who lived in a nice and cute-looking flat taking care of said son. 

After the confrontation between you and Soap, they had quickly assumed that Ghost harboured some type of feelings towards you, whether they were romantic or platonic was still yet to be known (though by the way he had held you so protectively against his chest, they assumed that they already knew the answer to that small conundrum), but they would’ve never guessed that you were the fucking mother of his son, a son he’d kept pretty well hidden from everyone, except Price, like many of the details of his oh-so mysterious life.

“That’s… Nice.” Gaz croaked out, throat having gone dry by the absolute shock that had filled the two Sergeants, gulping as Ghost stood back up to his full height, suddenly intimidated by the man more than usual. 

“Yeah. Stay.” Once again, not even bothering to say it in a nicer way, commanding all of them like dogs before entering the room you’d just retreated to and slamming the door closed. 

He immediately regretted it, though, by the way you snapped your head around like the girl from the ring furiously, clutching a fussing Tommy to your chest, reminiscent of the first night he’d spent in your flat.

“Sorry.” He didn’t wait for you to respond, taking a few long strides until he was at your side, gazing down at your sweet boy, who was moving around in your arms like he was actively trying to escape you. “How’s he?”

“Fussy. I mean, he’s been sleeping all day, no surprises there. Probably wants to watch some telly.”

“Can’t really do that lying down now, can he?” A gloved finger came down to tickle his tummy, causing him to move around more as he burst into a fit of giggles, seemingly not caring about his father's sudden change of appearance, hopefully assimilating in his tiny brain that all skull patterns equaled dad. 

At his response, you sucked air through your teeth, causing him to snap his head towards you in fear he’d said something wrong, taking a step back as he watched you place your hands underneath Tommy’s armpits and slowly take him to the ground, his little duck printed socks touching the floor and causing Ghost’s eyes to widen, mind racing with thoughts that your son might actually be some type of prodigy if he was standing up at this age, but let out a humoured breath as his little bum hit the floor, and instead of falling back like he always did, he instead stayed there sitting, moving his arms around in order to shake your grip off. 

“He’s sitting.”

“You don’t sound very impressed.” You said, looking up at him with a bright smile, not being able to help the immense pride you felt as your son ticked off another milestone off the list, sitting down on the carpet behind him and handing him one of the toys littered on the ground, wanting to enjoy this little moment of peace within the confusing and terrifying night you’d had, trying your best to focus simply on Tommy and not with what would come with having four military trained men in your flat. 

“No, it’s… Yeah.” You rolled his eyes at the inexpressive tone his voice took, watching him take a seat in front of you and raise his uninjured arm up to click his fingers in front of Tommy’s chubby face, like you normally did when wanting to catch his attention. “Good job, duck.”

You couldn’t help the way your smile widened as you heard him use the little nickname you’d given him, placing your hands on his chubby tummy and tickling his sides, enticing another few happy giggles. 

But through them, you heard the sharp hiss that came from Simon as he moved to put his weight onto the other arm, eyes going wide as you realised you’d completely neglected the wound you’d fussed about so much earlier, one of your hands moving to grasp his hands. 

“Why haven’t you treated it yet?” You whispered, keeping your distress to a minimum in front of Tommy, but Ghost could still feel the worry that emanated from you, shrugging (as best he could) and looking away. 

“I couldn’t find the medkit.” You raised a brow at his apprehensive words, lifting yourself off the floor along with Tommy and adjusting your hold on him. 

“It’s where it always is.” You started moving, giving him little to no time to react before he had jolted up and started following, almost crashing into you as you stopped in your tracks once you’d opened the door, seemingly forgetting about the company you’d been thinking about mere moments before. “Oh.”

“Is that him?” Soap said with a smile before anyone spoke, gesturing towards the small boy fidgeting in your arms. 

“No. Just some other random kid, Johnny.” Ghost’s hands once again found their rightful place on your hips and pushed you slightly to urge you to continue your walk, a huff leaving your lips at his impatience (although you couldn’t really blame him, you too would be impatient if there were a literal hole in your shoulder), as you made your way back in to the bedroom, feeling Ghost move around behind you as if he were shielding you from the prying eyes of his Sergeants and Captain, who simply wanted to catch a glimpse of the small boy. 

“Here.” You called out as you handed Tommy over to his father, opening up the mirror in the bathroom and pulling out the small yet quite big medkit he’d gifted you. 

Ghost tried his best to ignore the small bottles of pills he spied along the shelves of the little cupboard as you opened up the medkit, looking through all the items. 

“I… I don’t know how to use most of these.” You mumbled, taking it over to him so he could look through it. 

“Don’t worry, we do.” Tommy was handed back off to you, no doubt giving the small boy whiplash from how fast he was being moved from one parent to another like a hot potato. “Might need some help with the stitches.”

Stitches. 

You willed away the look of discomfort that would no doubt try to show on your face at the mere thought of it. 

Now, you weren’t the most horrible person at stitching clothes, you’d fixed a few items for both Tommy and you, and maybe the odd time you’d found a hole in Simon’s hoodie and couldn’t just leave it like that, but the thought of using a needle and string to stitch up a wound instead of the normal cloth made shivers rack your body. 

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah.” You breathed out, instead of letting out the worries that swirled about your brain. I mean, these men were dealing with blood and gore almost daily, surely you could manage to deal with a little wound, right?

“Hey. We’ve been treated by worse. Won’t be any worse than doin’ it ourselves.” He murmured, opening the door for you. 

And that filled you with some reassurance at first, but as you disinfected your hands and were given the needle and string, you couldn’t help but feel sick, turning your head over to the little playpen you’d purchased a few days ago where Soap was sitting next to looking down at Tommy play. Ghost right at his side glaring down at them, as if Tommy’s personal bodyguard. 

“You don’t have to, really. I can try and do it myself.” Gaz assured you with a smile, starting to move his arm away from you. 

“With one hand?”

“You’d be surprised what I can do with one hand, ma’am.” He grinned, getting a furious look from Ghost. 

You breathed out a laugh, shakily taking his arm into yours and bringing it back to where he had it before, angling the needle to his wound before taking one last look of reassurance up at the man, who only nodded in response. 

It wasn’t as disgusting as you had expected, but the sounds and feelings were still uncomfortable.

You finally finished the final stitch, shakily tying the knot before cutting the thread, disposing yourself of the latex gloves you’d put on. 

“Is- Is that okay?” 

“It’s perfect, love, don’t you worry. Did it better than I ever could.” Gaz encouraged, getting some bandages and helping you to wrap it around his now sanitised wound. “Could easily get a job as a nurse if you ever wanted to, eh? Think Ghost would love to have you on base.”

“That’s enough, Sergeant.” Ghost snapped, pushing himself off the wall and nodding down at Johnny. “Get a move on.”

You shared a smile with Gaz before Soap took his spot, albeit a bit more awkward, and raised his leg up to the sofa (you almost had a heart attack before you realised he’d kindly discarded his shoes before doing so). 

“Oh, do I-.” 

“No need f’stitches. I just need a bit o’help disinfecting it.” He mumbled, always the careful one when it came to cleaning. 

“Yeah, okay.” You did just as he had told you to, carefully pouring the alcohol onto the gauze before wiping away any dirt and dry blood from the graze before sticking a clean one over the wound with the help of a few bandages. 

You couldn’t help but feel a bit proud of your handiwork as you watched him get up, his limp a bit better now that he definitely knew that he hadn’t contracted any types of diseases thanks to the wound, taking back his spot back next to Gaz and Tommy, the other sergeant moving a little toy around in hopes of attracting Tommy’s attention. 

“I’ll help with this one, Lieu-” 

“No need.” Ghost interrupted the captain, sitting down on the sofa and immediately sinking it, the piece of furniture still not used to his weight even after all the time he’d been using it. “I’ll help her.”

You nodded with a smile, although it quickly flipped upside down as you realised what dealing with Ghost’s wound entailed, watching him slowly take off most of his tactical gear before leaving him in one of those damn tight shirts, moving the sleeve off the wounded shoulder and letting you see what you were dealing with in full detail. 

“Clean and stitch it up. Not that hard, lovie.” He mumbled, his words just for your ears, one warm hand landing on one of the thighs you had curled beneath you on the sofa you were kneeling on. “Just going to be a bit more difficult to heal.” 

“Okay.” You swallowed, tugging on another pair of gloves before balancing yourself with one hand on the part of his uninjured shoulder, somehow still feeling the body warmth through the latex. 

This was different from Gaz’s wound. While the other man had been looking away the whole time, you could feel Ghost’s sharp gaze on you even as you thread the needle, your body squirming beneath the uncomfortable stare. 

“C’mon.” He urged, settling himself further into the sofa to make the next part easier for you, letting yourself take a deep breath before starting without a second though, pleasantly surprised as he didn’t even move an inch with every stitch you made, although you could feel his thumb rubbing over the warm skin of your thigh with every second, your hand giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze every time you tightened a stitch, despite knowing he probably didn’t need the same reassurance you did. “It’s okay.”

It almost felt like you were the one getting stitched up, not him. 

You finished with shaky hands, dropping the gloves and needles and patching it up, jolting away when his hand grabbed at the bandages, finishing the job himself. 

“Thank you.” He mumbled, the hairs on your body standing up as you realised finally how close you’d been to him the whole time, slowly letting go of his arm and letting them fall back onto your lap. 

“It’s fine.” You watched him get up, once again not showing a single ounce of pain or discomfort despite the pain you knew a person who wasn’t desensitised to this type of wounds would be in, your eyes following him across the room until he reached the two Sergeants, who were still trying to gain Tommy’s affection.

When you saw them like that, they hardly looked like the type of men whose job consisted on fighting and killing for a living, they just looked like two blokes you’d find at the pub on a random sunday night, despite the tactical gear they still wore, having fun with watching a kid roll around with his toys. 

“Thank you.” Price rumbled from behind you, a hand landing on the headrest of the sofa. “For letting us stay. Feels like no one’s said that yet.”

You shrugged, running your hands up and down your thighs in order to cure the chill that had just run through your body. “It’s okay. I mean… Simon’s done a lot for us, guess I could just repay the favour one way or another.”

Although maybe you would’ve thought of a more traditional way of doing that, one that wasn’t stitching up his men and him in the middle of the night. 

“Hmph. Well, considering what good a job you’ve done, I’d say you’ve paid it back pretty well.”

You smiled up at him, not catching the look Ghost sent to you from the other side of the room, looking down at the small boy he was cradling and then up at the time, not having missed the eyebags that adorned your normally bright eyes. 

He called your name as he came near, his heart missing a beat as you instantly outstretched your arms out at him, stomach sinking as he quickly realised you were gesturing towards Tommy and not him, carefully bringing him down to latch onto your chest. 

“Think we’ll be leavin’ now.” He said, catching both your and Price’s attention. 

“Leaving?”

“Where else are you going to stay?” You prodded for an answer, pressing Tommy further into the jumper you’d pulled on. 

“We’ll find somewhere.” He looked up at Price for reassurance, but got a not so on board look back. 

You looked between the two, who stayed silent enough for you to make a quick inventory check in your head, looking down at the pull out sofa you were currently sitting on and thinking back to the possible inflatable mattress you had stored in your room. 

“Simon.” You said, almost like a child tugging on their parent’s sleeve to ask for something. “You can just stay for the night. I’ve got a few blankets and a small mattress along with the sofa. I don’t mind.”

You always felt like you could drown in his eyes when he looked at you like that, glassy eyes filled with concern and apprehensiveness at your words, as if he was assessing the true nature behind them only to find that you were only speaking the truth.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

And maybe, in the heat of the moment, you’d under planned a bit, since you realised mid unfolding some blankets that both the sofa and the small mattress would not fit four people, even if one decided to sleep on the floor, they’d be far from comfortable curling into some random nook or cranny of the flat. 

You fluffed up some of the pillows, listening to some parts of the conversation Gaz and Soap were having from inside the bathroom, jumping out of your skin as one of Ghost’s hands appeared on your back. 

“I'm going to let Soap and Gaz take the sofa. Price’s alright with taking the mattress.” He explained, hand continuing to rest on the small of your back even as you leaned back up, working on shoving a cushion into its cover. 

“And you?” You asked, almost dreading the answer. 

He looked away, a faraway gaze on the visible part of his face as if he wasn’t really there with you, as if you were just talking to a shell of a man who someone else was controlling. 

“I don’t need to sleep. I’m fine with staying in Tom’s room.” He responded, taking the pillow from your hands and placing it down on the inflatable mattress that lay next to the sofa. 

“What? You’re hurt, Simon, you should be resting!”

Silence. 

“You’re not fucking superhuman, you know that, right?!” You snapped, grabbing at his sleeve and forcing him to look your way. “You need rest like anyone else. Just because you cover your face and act like you don’t care about anything does not mean you’re special.”

God, shut up! Your brain was shouting at you, unbelieving that you were getting so worked up over a man you’d convinced yourself that you wouldn’t let in no matter what, but there you were, horrified that he had such little care for his well-being that he would rather stay awake all night than find somewhere else to sleep. 

“Just take my bed!”

The words were out of your mouth before you even realised it. 

And clearly, you weren’t the only one who was surprised by them. 

Simon was staring down at you with what you could only assume was a dumbfounded look, his eyes swirling with confusion. 

“Your bed?”

“My bed.” You breathed out, horrified with yourself. “It's queen sized, you know that. You’ll fit.”

Silence engulfed the room, a pattern that seemed to follow every single one of your conversations you had in this exact spot of the living room, gazes interlocked together. 

“No-”

“Yes. Get into your pyjamas and come to bed.” You said almost robotically, finishing the final cushion before pushing yourself off, quickly walking back into your room before the man could protest. You placed a hand against the wall in order to balance yourself as soon as you were out of his line of view, a shaky hand coming up to cover your mouth in shock of what you’d just asked, no, insisted him to do.

Soap and Gaz apologised for taking so long in the bathroom, letting you take their place so you could calm down a bit alone and in silence, sitting on the closed toilet with a shaking leg, biting your nails as you stared down at the white tiles. 

You were so fucking stupid. 

What was wrong with you!?

Why couldn’t you just stick to your initial feelings for him!?

Why couldn’t you just have let him do what he wanted!?

Why did you care so much about someone you’d insisted was nothing to you!?

You rested your face against the open palms of your hands, running them up and down until you rid yourself of the urge to want to cry, the opening of your bedroom door immediately catching your attention. 

Ghost knocked at the door, making you jump for what seemed like the nth time tonight, calling out your name. 

“I need to get changed.”

Your heart soared at the implication behind his hushed words. 

Now, you don’t really know what you were expecting for his pyjamas to be, but the black shirt and cargo sweatpants he sported were definitely on brand for a man like Simon.

It’d been a really long time since you’d caught a peak at his arms, since even in the warmest weather possible, Simon always insisted on wearing at least a long sleeved shirt, leaving the rest of his body up to the imagination (which, thanks to that night, you didn’t really need), but thanks to the shirt he was currently wearing, it allowed you to gaze upon his muscular arms and the tattoo that ran the whole way up one of them, remembering faintly the moment he’d let you look at them for a moment before tugging you closer into his chest. 

It also didn’t surprise you that he was still wearing the balaclava, although this one was different to the skulled one he normally wore, silver lines running over his chin, like the bottom set of teeth of the plastic skull he’d now discarded, leaving him almost naked in a way, after having gotten so used to him all covered up. 

“Are you sure?” He asked one final time, standing at the edge of the bed. 

“Yes, Simon.”

His gaze darted away from you as you called out his name, something you’d noticed he’d done the whole night every time you spoke his real name out, despite him never reacting this way when you were both alone. 

“Lie down.” He did as you said, getting into the bed and pulling some of the covers up to cover his lap, turning to watch you as you leaned over to turn off the small lamp on your nightstand, the room instantly being filled with darkness after the click. 

“You know…” Your voice came out hushed, further down than before, letting him assume that you’d just rested your face against your pillow. “Your skull mask looks silly.”

“Silly?” He whispered back, mock offended, like you’d just killed his entire family in front of him (which would be largely upsetting considering you were his family…).

“Silly.” You parroted, thinking back to the hard plastic skull. “You look like a little kid on halloween.” 

“That was the goal.” He lazily joked, moving down so he too was lying on his own pillow, staring up at the darkness that used to be the ceiling, his hair scratchy against his nape and skull due to it being pressed against the material of his balaclava. “...my brother wore a mask like that. Used to scare the shit out of me.”

You let out a huff, impossible of even imagining a little version of your Simon being scared by his brother. “Isn’t he younger than you?”

“...”

“Oh my god, Simon.”

“I was easily frightened.” He said, knowing that if there were any source of light near you, you’d instantly be able to see the blush that no doubt was dusting his pale cheeks. “I was frail as a kid.”

Why was he telling you this?

“Frail?” You mumbled, moving yourself closer to him in order to hear him clearer. 

“My dad wasn’t the nicest person.” 

He should stop. 

“You mean… He hurt you?”

“In more ways than one.”

You shouldn’t know this about him. 

“That’s… Horrible. I’m sorry, Simon…”

“It’s fine.”

It wasn’t. 

“It’s not… You don’t have to act like it is.”

“...”

“Simon.”

Your sweet voice called out to him, your hand brushing against his arm and causing a ripple effect on it, all of his hairs standing on edge at the soft touch. 

“Simon…”

“I’m sorry.” He breathed out, turning around, forcing your hand away from him in doing so, leaving you staring at his back in the dark. 

Silence engulfed the room once again, your hand frozen in place from where it had been pressed against before, clenching it closed and bringing it back, turning around yourself and snuggling into the nice-smelling covers.

You didn’t even bother trying to continue the conversation or bid him a goodnight like you wish you could, instead keeping the silence going until the inevitable grasp of Hypnos would pull you under. 

But you couldn’t seem to fall asleep, even after only having slept two hours that day, even as no sound came through the baby monitor on your bedside table, even if everything was perfectly scripted for you to close your eyes and finally get some rest…

You turned around, feeling around the cold space of the bed that laid between Simon and your sleeping bodies, squeezing your eyes closed before taking a shaking breath. 

It was cold. That was it. It was cold, and you felt bad for him.

There was no other reason for why you wrapped your arms around his chest from behind, curling into the shape of his body and pressing your face right against his warm back, feeling him tense beneath your hands. 

You stayed there, waiting for the unavoidable moment where he’d try and shake you off like you were some kind of leech, but he didn’t. 

Instead, one of his hands came up to rest over the one you had above his heart, squeezing it slightly, his way of telling you that this was okay without openly speaking out. 

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes and pulling yourself closer into his warmth, feeling his heart beat slowly grow steady beneath your palm as time went past. 

Simon hoped that the tear streaks down his balaclava wouldn’t be noticeable in the morning. 

This time, when you woke up, he wasn’t gone. 

Although a bit dishevelled compared to the normal composure he kept, he was there. 

The mask had ridden up to his cupid’s bow in the middle of the night, exposing the not very well-kept beard he’d started growing under there, along with tufts of blond hair that peaked out from around his nape.  

It was clear you’d both moved a lot across the course of the night, by the way you’d both ended in a completely different position than the one you'd started in, with you on the other side of the bed wrapped up in his arms, your face pressed into his chest instead of his back.

His warm hands were covering your lower back, brushing lightly against the elastic band of your pyjama bottoms, one leg draped over his waist while the other was between his.

You tentatively raised your hand to run your fingers against the hair at the base of his head, curling a slightly long strand around one of your fingers and letting out an amused huff at the curl that formed there. 

“Ow.” Simon rasped, although his voice was as monotonous as could be, pulling his head away from your hand. “Ticklish.”

“You’re ticklish?” You mumbled, watching him open his eyes before craning his head away from you, a pop coming from the bone as he stretched, moving onto his back and pulling you with him, letting you curl into his side. 

Not one word was spoken during the entire morning about what was going on, about your sudden change of heart (although you knew it wasn’t sudden), about what this night would mean for the two of you moving forward. 

Neither of you said a word, afraid that the conversation that would follow would be the one to ruin whatever had happened, 

You wandered out of your bedroom an hour after you’d officially woken up, wanting to indulge in the warmth Simon had provided all throughout the night, surprised and a bit shocked (you’d honestly forgotten what was waiting for you outside), Tommy fidgeting around in Soap’s arms as he held him with surprising care and ability. 

“Are you some type of expert?” You said with a careful smile, not missing the way his eyes darted down to the bruises around your neck, still feeling bad for what he had done. 

“Uh, kinda’? Got four sisters, each of ‘em with their own set of bairns.” He shrugged, the movement making Tommy let out a giggle through his dummy. “Lad was cryin’, couldn’t just leave him there.”

“It’s okay. Thank you.” You felt a bit embarrassed for not having woken up at your baby’s crying, but you were glad that he seemed perfectly happy, clearly enjoying the attention he’d been receiving the past hours. “He’s starting to teeth, that’s probably why he was crying, my poor-”

The slamming down of a mug interrupted you, staring dumbfounded at Gaz, who’d been the one to cause the noise. 

“Fuck! Sorry, sorry, ma’am, just-” He wiped away some of the spilt tea (you were even more confused as to where he’d gotten the cuppa until you noticed the captain standing next to the stove with your kettle), looking up at you with darkening cheeks. “Sorry, my arm’s still a bit fucked-”

“Clean it up.” Ghost ordered gruffly as he walked out of the bedroom, clad in most of the clothing he’d worn yesterday, hiding once again all the skin and muscles you’d ran your hands over that morning. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m not a prick, man.” Gaz grumbled. 

Ghost leaned down to you, your heart skipping a beat at the sudden closeness, in front of his teammates no less, but ended up pressing a finger to Tommy's nose, your cheeks going warm out of embarrassment. 

“You made tea?” He grunted at his Captain, who shrugged, taking a sip of the warm brew. 

“I’ll pay it back.”

“Y-”

“It’s not necessary, it’s just tea.” You elbowed Ghost before he could say anything rude, placing Tommy down onto his highchair before moving to get some of his food and get yourself a cup in the meantime. 

“Can’t thank her enough.” Price grumbled to Ghost as you and the other two started a conversation, watching the masked man pour himself a cup before swigging it all down quickly like it was some type of liquor. “For letting us stay.”

“Yeah. I’m going to have to make it up for her.” Ghost answered, watching you try to coerce Tommy to open his mouth for a spoonful of baby food with Soap’s help. 

“Seems like you already did, she looks real happy.” Price nudged Ghost, like a father teasing his son for getting his first girlfriend, his moustache twitching as Ghost turned away from him, further pushing the thought that it was just like that type of scenario. 

“We should get going. I can’t risk it further.” Ghost responded instead of continuing the banter, pushing himself off the counter and turning to you, Price immediately dropping the funny act and nodding, moving to get some of their things they’d tried to place neatly in one of the corners. 

“We’re going.” He announced, heart sinking into his stomach at the disappointment that washed over your face, placing down the baby food on the table and leaning back up to your full height. 

“Now?”

“Yes. Soap, go start the car.” Ghost ordered, the scot doing just as his captain had and dropping the smile that had been previously adorning his face, getting up and taking his jacket from Price, not forgetting to say a proper goodbye to you and give you a firm handshake that he hoped transmitted the apology for everything he did, and as you received it with a small smile, he hoped it meant that you forgave him. 

“Where are you going?” You asked, watching Gaz and Price reload some of the guns from the other side of the flat. 

“Base. Hopefully, Laswell will have backup and we’ll be able to finish what we started.” He said, gloved fingers running over Tommy's soft head, messing up some of the curls that had started to form. “I’ll call you once we’ve finished.”

The look you gave him spoke a million words. 

“I promise. I’ll be back, you know that.”

You felt embarrassed at how quickly he’d managed to discern what your look had meant, but nodded nonetheless, saying goodbye to the other two (Gaz giving you a bright smile and Price clasping your hand in his once again, his presence washing away any worry you might have just like last time), leaving the three of you alone in your apartment. 

“Duck, daddy’s going now.” You whispered to your son, the small boy clearly having no idea of what you were saying, but giggling up at you as you pressed a kiss to his chubby cheek. “Say bye-bye, now.”

You moved his little hand in a goodbye motion, Ghost’s mask moving over his lips as he smiled, raising one of his hands to wave goodbye back. 

Despite having done this same song and dance for almost four months now, it still didn’t get rid of the bittersweet feeling that bloomed in Simon’s chest, already knowing the drill as you led him to the front door with a solemn look tugging at your pretty features. 

“We’ll talk once I get back, okay? I promise.” He spoke softly as he stood by the opened door, a gloved hand coming up to cup at your face and tilt you upwards so you were both making eye contact. “‘Bout everything.”

“Okay.” You whispered, fighting the urge to lean further into his touch. “I’ll be here.”

He nodded, but his hand still didn’t move. 

You waited, for what, you didn’t know. You were slowly getting lost in his eyes when his other hand came up to pull his mask up over his lips, leaning down and softly tugging you upwards until they met your forehead, the kiss short and sweet despite all the pain and darkness that you knew followed him, always a surprise when it came to how quickly he could change from the personality he showed to you and Tommy to the personality you’d witnessed him show to his teammates not long ago. 

You blinked up at him owlishly, watching him pull the mask back down and let go of your face (though his touch still lingered) before taking a step back. 

“Stay safe.” You repeated like all the other times. 

“I always do.” He replied, and like always, he disappeared down the hall. 

“No.”

“Oh, come on. He’ll like it!” 

“He won’t.” Ghost snapped, taking one last look at the small toy Gaz was waving around, like Ghost was a child to be entertained and he was just being fussy, which really wasn’t that off track. 

“How’d you know?”

“‘Cause I’m his dad!” He looked away, already regretting having brought his teammates back to your place and therefore letting them meet Tommy. Maybe he should’ve just let them bleed out back then. 

“And you’re honestly telling me that a child will not like this?” Gaz moved it around a bit more, almost tantalising his lieutenant. 

Ghost peaked back at the small teddy bear, its fur fluffy and inviting and its black button eyes adorning its little face. 

“Just take it, mate. It’ll make me really happy!”

“I don’t care about your happiness, Sergeant.” Ghost snapped, snatching the toy from his grasp and shoving it into one of his pockets, ignoring the bright smile Gaz sent him and the punch to his shoulder. 

“God, you’re the best, Ghost. Text me if he likes it, eh?”

He never did text Gaz back, but Gaz had apparently ran his mouth to Soap about Ghost’s reluctant acceptance of the gift, since the next time he saw Soap, the scot had kindly brought a little teddy bear with a tiny Scottish flag in its paw. 

And although Ghost wanted nothing more than to rip it up in front of him, he found himself passing them on to Tommy the day he came back to you, “reluctantly” sending each of the Sergeants a picture of the small boy curled up to the two bears.

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x fem reader #ghost x female reader #ghost x fem!reader #ghost fic #cod mwii x reader #— ménage #cod mwii #call of duty #call of duty x reader

[tickernewsng]

The Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) has reacted to the emergence of Bola Tinubu as the Presidential candidate of APC. In a statement released by its National Publicity Secretary, Debo Ologunagba, the PDP mocked&nbsp;Tinubu for clinching at a very great price, the Presidential ticket of the ''moribund, decrepit and crippled All Progressives Congress (APC)'', which the party said has since served out its purpose as a "fraudulent contraption." The statement in part read; ''Our Party also sympathizes with Asiwaju for embarking on a journey to nowhere as he is no match for PDP’s more popular, more competent and more prepared Presidential Candidate, His Excellency, Atiku Abubakar the unifier and the people’s choice, who defeated President Buhari fair and square in the 2019 Presidential election. Asiwaju will soon realize that Nigeria is not one of his acquired estates or fiefdoms and that the Nigerian people are not his political string-puppets and retinue of lackies, from whom he bought the APC Presidential ticket. Asiwaju will also soon realize that Nigerians hold him responsible for his self-confessed role in installing the failed Buhari-led administration that subjugated the people, brought excruciating economic hardship, acute poverty, bloodletting, terrorism, mass killings, promoted disunity, tribalism and nepotism, lawlessness, massive treasury looting and unpardonable life-discounting experiences to our country. It is indeed reprehensible that Asiwaju, after being handed an APC flag that refused to unfold in recognition of the gloomy times of the APC, did not demonstrate any form of remorse for the injuries he engineered and caused our nation in the last seven years. His failure to express empathy for the victims of violence, kidnapping, mass killings and acts of terrorism, especially the recent gruesome attack in a sacred place of worship, St. Francis Catholic Church, Owo in Ondo State serves as a foretaste of the big cover up and harrowing experience that Nigerians will face, God forbid, should Asiwaju emerge as President in 2023. His acceptance speech further exposed his manifest lack of capacity, presence of mind, resourcefulness and selflessness to manage the affairs of a nation as complex as Nigeria. From Asiwaju’s egotistic outbursts before and after the APC manipulative National Convention, it is crystal clear that his life-long dream of clinching the APC Presidential ticket is not for the wellbeing of Nigerians but out of desperation to lay hands on the keys to the nation’s treasury. Asiwaju has insulted the sensibilities of Nigerians enough and this APC National Convention will be his final political outing. This is because Nigerians have had enough and are now, more than ever before, ready and out on the platform of the PDP to defend our nation and reject Asiwaju Ahmed Bola Tinubu in the 2023 Presidential election. The Nigerian politics is far more complex and beyond the Lagos politics where Asiwaju operates with brawl and deployment of violence rather than brain. What Nigerians needs now is a unifier in the face of the pain and discomfort inflicted on them by Bola Ahmed Tinubu, his live band of APC looters and mean human beings. He needs to know that Nigeria is not Lagos!'' The party went on to charge&nbsp;Nigerians to continue to stand shoulder to shoulder with its Presidential candidate, Atiku Abubakar, in his mission to Rescue, Redirect and Rebuild of Nigeria from the ''misrule of Asiwaju and his APC''.

[theghostofblackbunnymask]

can you pls write alphabet for yandere fundy ty and ily!!!

Author's note- Little furry boi, I really want more Las Nevadas Crew request

Warnings- Obsession, Worship, mental abuse, Psychological torture, physical abuse, panic attacks (Fundy), lack of freedom, guilt tripping, and fear

Yandere Fundy Alphabet

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Fundy would be very touch starved, so he would cuddle you, kiss you, and just pick you up and carry you around.

But if Fundy couldn't touch you, he would give you gifts of things you like, he'll spoil you rotten.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Fundy can be pretty messy. His main method is quite simple, he'll just slash the person in the back with his claw like nails and then claw them to death.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Fundy wouldn't want to to treat you badly, he doesn't want to be like his father, and just the thought of it makes him sick.

Fundy would treat you with respect and will respect your boundaries, but if you don't like being touched, well I'm sorry because this furry boy will NEVER let you go.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

I mean, possibly touching you if you don't like being touched. Oh, and not taking you outside, he'll only take you to Las Nevadas since you two live there, but even then he'll watch you like a hawk.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Fundy is pretty vulnerable, everyone basically left him, he can't loose you too. So if anyone threatened his Darling, he would fucking beat them to a pulp until someone pulls him off.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Pretty disappointed, he's given you everything, besides freedom, but who needs freedom anyways when you have someone to think and do things for you. He'd most likely just lock you in your room until you behave.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

This. Isn't. A. Fucking. Game. This man would go into straight fucking panic the moment he find out, he may even have a panic attack. But after that he'll calm down and using his fox sense of smell to find you.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Picture this:

You just said to Fundy that he was just like his father, and that, that would break him. All of his common sense, all of his self control and all of his sympathy and empathy are all gone.

"Just like Wilbur? HAHAHAH, you think Wilbur would do something like this... Oh... I'll show you what he would do if I'm just like him!"

Fundy would pin you you down and start punching you, and they he would start to claw at your face, and he would only stop when he looks at his hands, all of it covered in blood. Fundy would look at your passed out and limp body with so much regret. He would patch you up while crying and cuddle you saying.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, you're right... I'm just like Wilbur..."

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Living in Las Nevadas with no worries. No more wars, no more Dream, no more Wilbur. Just peace.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Fundy gets jealous quite easily, and when he does he starts to get rude to the person and insult them until they run off crying. If you were to ask what was that for, he'd just say that he was protecting you and that they were just going to use you for their own disgusting desires.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Pretty soft, he'd do whatever you want and treat you like absolute royalty. But don't take him for a push over, the moment he sees your taking advantage of his kindness and generosity, he'd lock you in a room with no food and no water, just so you learn that his kindness and generosity is a privilege, so treat it as such.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Fundy would be so blush around you, he would send you love letters and gifts anonymously, and would watch you when you open them, wanting to see your reaction to his gifts, seeing you happy makes him so happy.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Not really, no, but he is 10x softer.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Fundy would never want to hurt you physically or emotionally on purpose, he doesn't want to be Wilbur 2.0

Key words are- Physical or Emotionally.

This man will definitely use some psychology shit on you. Have you heard of white room torture? He would definitely do that. This man would harm you mentally, but he could never harm you physically, cause whenever he sees the scars he starts to cry, seeing himself as a disgusting monster.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Freedom and freedom of speech. God forbid you mention or say the name Wilbur around him, this man would go insane and beat you to a pulp, before regaining his composure, patching you up, and crying while cuddling you.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Fundy's pretty patient, he understands that love takes time, trust, and that it can be cruel. He'll give you all the time in the world for you to love him, there's no need to worry.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

If you were to escape, he would find you within a few hours, and then drag you right back while ranting and guilt tripping you about how much pain you caused him.

Now if you died, he'd be heartbroken, he wouldn't even take care of himself anymore and would just let his nightmares consume him, and juust allow himself to wake up from those nightmares.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Fundy would know it's wrong to hold people hostage, but he just wants to protect you, they're too much bad and terrible people on this server and he doesn't want you to fall victim to them, so if kidnaping keeps you safe, then I guess that's what he must do, love hurts, but it'll be worth it in the end.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

☆PEOPLE LEAVING HIM☆ So whenevethe starts to fall for someone or befriend someone, he'd do anything for them not to leave him, but if they abuse or mistreat him, he'd drop and let them go.

Tears: How do they feel about their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Fundy would feel terrible if he made you cry, he would beg you to stop while apologizing. But if someone else made you cry, he would threaten the person.

If you were to yell at him, he may get scared since it reminds him whenever people got upset with him, mainly Wilbur, so Fudny would just back away scared before running off.

If you were to isolate yourself, he would tell you it isn't healthy and that you should talk to him if he or someone else did something wrong.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Not really sure.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

A few things actually.

His obsession with you, if you act like you're obsessed with him, you may be able to escape.

His desperate attempts to not be like Wilbur, if you continue to assure him he isn't like Wil, you could gain his trust and escape.

Using guilt tripping against him, make him feel bad and he'll give you more freedom, then you could escape.

Wit's end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Fundy has outbursts sometimes and during those times he can't control himself, leading him to hurt you. He doesn't mean to though.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

A lot of lengths, he basically worships the ground you walk on and would do anything for your love, affection and approval.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

1 year.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Fundy doesn't want to break you, he could never live with that.

#yandere dream #yandere dream smp #yandere dream x reader #yandere mcyt #mcyt x reader #dream smp x reader #dreamsmp x reader #fundy x reader #Yandere Fundy #Yandere Fundy x reader

[ghasly]

I saw your answer to that ask and I wanted to add to it, if you'd let me.

We live and operate in and under systems, right? They are social, they are corporate, they are sports too. All these systems have differences, and similarities. We know the power and length of white supremacy, and the dominance of white people. And it reaches all these systems, even in black predominant spaces sometimes, so Lewis is a black man, dark skinned, who didn't come from a rich background, the only one in the grid, and even with all his power, fame, talent and titles, he's still seen as lesser. Why? Cause we see a combination of prejudice, systematic racism, institutional and structural racism, cultural racism and interpersinal racism - you can see as a bunch os tentacles that form one body - and they all have a good grip. I would also like to point that Color Blindness is a form of racism, we race as one, we don't see color, we don't discriminate. So yes, the FIA is basically using a form of racism to fight their own racism that they are not really interested in fighting while using the go-to racist-oblivious phrase, and throwing it for all inequalities as well cause they're lazy.

Now before I go on, and I think this will help understand, let's talk about the other end of the stick, Max. A white guy, blue eyes, rich family. Every time he's seen doing something dangerous, or being rude, or bat shit crazy. It's because he's young, he has an attitude problem, he has family issues, he's still learning and he's a good guy at heart. He's shown mercy, he's cut slack, he's babied by the media and the fans for his benefit, to be seen as a white angel catholic church style - as I like to call -, that's when a man goes from a white savior to a white victim of a black person, it's very common actually. The system favors him, the masses favor him, the system works so that he's seen as good, and at the worst of scenarios not bad, but troubled.

The sport is racist, the sport is for white rich man, it was created and cemented on white supremacy and the fact that Lewis is the biggest driver of all times right now is an insult - that's how many fans feel btw, so they support Max not because they solely like him, but because he's Lewis' opposite right now, and it shows on the crowds, with all the booing and racist attacks online -. Lewis said that he's never seen many people like him, of color similar as his, or even women working on the track - good opportunity for me to mention lack of representation and isolation which are both oppression - and we also see that it's white people everywhere, and a feel colored dots in the picture.

People, individually, are very much racist, racist thinking, racist habits, racist slang and saying, racist expectations of a black man. White people covered with white privilege, white dominance - not just in number - is ingrained and internalized, white environments, and white empathy for white people who will favor white people. They create the system and they maintain the system as it is, perpetuating racism, it's often a different person with the same color under the same system, no matter the location.

Max walks with his head held high because he knows the system has his back, he's allowed to be reckless, the FIA won't do shit, nobody will. And Lewis walks with caution because he knows that the system has a target on his back, and he's not allowed to mess up or the stewards will punish him heavily, like it's done everywhere.

#great addition thank you! #f1 #racism

[daughterofanarcissistwoman]

A narcissistic mother is like a grown up child. You’re dealing with someone whose emotional maturity became stunted a very long time ago and as a result is unable to function like someone you can relate to as a child or are forever trying and feeling like a failure.

Needy for attention: To a certain extent all people who are older and their children get married and leave to have lives of their own become ‘needy’ because their child no longer rely on them as a parent , but in the case of a narcissist mother, she will be extremely unhappy about you’re inattentiveness if you become busy with a family (wife/husband and kids) because although she always painted the picture that you were reliant on her, it was actually always the other way around. You’re leaving to start your own adventure in your life (just like her) is not something she will put up with easily. She’ll call you several times a week if not every single day and expect you to give her the time of the day whether you’re juggling a difficult job, 4 kids and all the assorted daily life problems.

Perpetually negative: Again with most people who age and lose their health they become slightly pessimistic in their views because the weather was grey or they felt unwell , but a narcissistic mother is always negative in most of her interactions. She’s always complaining of her health, finances, marriage, children, friends, relatives, co-workers, you name it. Nothing and nobody is good enough to them including you.

Toxic: Although the perpetual negativity covers this, but i feel the need to mention this because ‘toxicity is the narc mother’s special power and something she constantly employs in her daily interactions. This is how she both control and destroy ties with friends and family, by talking behind every ones back, spreading lies, and manipulation.

Unrelentingly nosy: This is important. A narc mother wants to know everything’ and when i say everything, i mean everything from how many friends you have, who they’re parents are, what are you earning, what you’re saving, how many times your wife had uti’s, where you’re spending, who you’ve spent on etc. They think they have a right to govern your entire life from who you can spend more time with (even as adults!) to where you’re spending your savings. In fact if they could openly ask for it, they’d probably want to be a part of your bank accounts and ask you to buy them a property. So, it’s always better as a grown up working person to share less of your private business with them because they will straight up expect you to spend all of your life savings on them and not be emphatic enough to acknowledge you have a family life or in a relationship where your money isn’t just your money. Be careful of what info you share with them because they are collecting all that data for use later on to control you.

Biased emotions: Narc mothers are notorious for not treating their kids equally. There will always be one golden child, this can be the oldest of the bunch or the youngest. There will always be a neglected child and again the one she scapegoats in the equation. This is her way of controlling you and your siblings and keeping all of you just one word shy of descending into an ugly sibling war. She keeps all of you divided, talks up each other against the other sibling and teaches everyone to be jealous of each others achievements or simply not acknowledge the achievements of each other. The golden child will always be her favorite and treated better than others. Except, a narc mother’s ‘better’ is still nothing better than toxic because even they have been abused by her setting unrealistic standards and an overall skewed upbringing which teaches them to have an over inflated sense of self importance.

Need for validation and blame placing: A narc mother is constantly in need of validation for her bad behavior. If she wasn’t civil to a cashier at the counter it was the cashier’s fault not her own. She cannot accept responsibility for any of her actions because that would mean she would have to say that she was wrong. In a narc mom’s dictionary there is no word such as self reflection. No one can have the last word in an argument including her husband because everything she says, no matter how absurd must be treated as right. She frequently uses prolonged silent treatment on anyone as a way to intimidate and shame all those who doesn’t agree with her or do exactly as she likes.

Inability to maintain relationships: A narc mother has no long term relations that survive her narc behavior, old friends, family, co-workers, etc. anyone whose seen her mask slip off or calls her out on her bullshit is on the discard list. She cannot maintain a relationship with anyone. Everyone who has ever known her has been on her ‘naughty’ list.

Skewed sense of reality: Their perspective is rooted in extreme prejudice and it never changes with time and experience. You can tell them what’s wrong with their way of thinking until you’re blue in the face but it makes no difference, If horses can fly in their reality literally no one can convince them otherwise. Even if they do agree with you they will always act in the opposite way showing hypocritical behavior most of the time.

Playing the victim: This is the hallmark move of a narc mother. She will always be the victim in every situation. No one is nice to her. Everything anyone else including her children say comes across as a perceived slight. All her ‘good deeds’ have gone unnoticed by the world. Everyone owes her their understanding and compassion. According to her she has always ever been kind and giving, it’s impossible for her to comprehend why someone does not want her in their life or doesn’t like her abuse or insults. Playing the victim not only involves her tearing up and letting loose a flood of tears at the drop of a hat, it also means she will feign sudden onset of illness due to stress and agitation others’ are causing her.

Lacking in empathy: Narc mothers like all narc’s lack a certain amount of empathy. They cannot understand why her calling you every demeaning name in the book or insulting your intelligence might hurt you or make you tear up. They lack emotional intelligence and cannot be there for you like a mother if you’re getting divorced, lost a job, or suffered an accident. They will swivel your attention right back to themselves, there problems are of far more importance than yours at any given day of the week.

Emotional abuse: They will use whatever emotional abuse they need to in order to talk you down and keep you from making her self reflect. She will use your siblings against each other like flying monkeys to get to you for an infraction. She will cut you off from everyone else and make it look like you’re mentally unstable for losing your cool to her many insensitive and downright cruel tirades where you’ve always been the reason of her unhappy existence. Whatever you say will be twisted, used against you and made to seem like your own fault. In her version of events you’ve always been rude, ungrateful and disrespectful. She sets unrealistic standards of achievement and constantly tests your devotion to her through these standards, where you never pass. Any little infraction from the set course can cause an overblown outburst of rage and silent treatment from her to you which can last for day, weeks or even months. An argument with her only goes around and around in circles. Nothing you say is ever enough or sincere enough. She will be done with talking in circles only when she’s done.

In some cases narc mom’s aren’t physically abusive and it’s the malignant variety of narcissist mom’s who enjoy sadism and inflicting physical abuse. But there are many narcissist mothers who might rationalize being physically abusive towards their children and spouses and pretending later on that she was never physically abusive.

https://www.quora.com/How-do-you-know-if-your-mother-is-a-narcissist/answers/174878844?ch=10&share=c2fb4810&srid=C7yPi

#narcissist mother #narcissistic abuse #cptsd

[svpervixen]

This was my entire life for 3 years. I’ve spent the last year working desperately to recover from manipulation and endless gaslighting.

Gerard gaslights like it’s a second language, and as if there’s absolutely no shame in doing so.

1-2. I’ve caught him in lies, WITH PROOF, only to be demonized and attacked for asking about it.

3. Green Day, Final Destination 3, my sisters, my friends, my parents- the people and media I care about the most- I was either restricted from seeing/indulging in, or was actively insulted/demonized for having any interest/love for it/them. It’s as if everything that made me who I am, everything that made me passionate and zealous were a threat to him simply for empowering me. And god forbid anyone who cared about me attempting to protect me from him. They were either kicked out of my life, or I was shamed/guilted for trying to spend time with, quickly leading me to never see them at all.

4. There are too many examples to list. Oh my fuck even thinking about the amount is overwhelming. “I’ll be better”, “I would never do that to you”, “I care about you”, “I care about your interests”, “I’ll get a job”, “I won’t ever do that again”, ETC ETC ETCCCCC

5. He was insecure so I was made to feel insecure. He felt lonely so I was made to feel lonely. He had a history of cheating on people so he endlessly accused me of doing the same. He hated a lot of people for stupid, immature reasons and expected me to hate them too, and in some cases actively go after them. He had zero patience with several different kinds of people and expected me to act the same. He hated himself and constantly accused me of hating him. To name only a FEW.

6. ALL of the friends we made together have sided with him. He gets close to them, “admits” to a watered-down, purposefully-vague and misleading version of the truth to PRETEND he’s taken SOME form of accountability, and then goes on to exaggerate EVERY aspect of my own problematic actions I exhibited in response to being terrorized, beaten down, and cornered ENDLESSLY. He uses fine, real-life details and a shameless delivery to convince these people I’m something that I’m not, all in the pursuit of covering his ass. He tells them I’m toxic, “psychologically destructive”, that I was a “drunk who battered him”, etc, when all of it is a bullshit lie or gross exaggeration lacking vital context. Losing my friends to this was one of the things that scared me away from leaving him for a while because I KNEW it would happen, as I watched the ways he demonized and lied about people for 3 years leading up to it, knowing it would happen to me and he would utilize any and all people who showed any leeway in not believing me.

7. It’s really easy to dismiss my speaking out at this point by calling me an obsessive, psycho, crazy ex set out to ‘hurt you’, isn’t it? There’s already such a grand misunderstanding and prejudice towards emotional women voicing their pains, ESPECIALLY in the form of a relationship with a man. But really, is that all you have? Calling me ‘crazy’? Telling everyone else I’m ‘crazy’? You ever consider telling them the truth? That the REAL ‘crazy’ was the barbaric mind games, manipulation, and dismantling of self you put me and the others through? Hm? How about that? Or is that too integral for you to comprehend?

8. I was told my exes raped me when they hadn’t, I was told the love I felt for people in my past wasn’t real, I was fed antagonizing bullshit about my own family and friends whenever any of them got too close to me or too curious about my shutting down after getting close to him. Anyone who dared to threaten his righteous spot in my life was an ‘enemy’ and treated as such, through and through.

9. Do I need to say anything on this one? The only reason he’s “owning up to” anything is because he KNOWS he can’t escape ALL of it. If he were to deny everything outright, the backlash would be far greater. Instead, he cherry-picks, he utilizes white lies, he gives an inch of bullshit and expects you to run with it for miles. He sells it well because he’s soulless. But what he has ‘owned up to’ is bullshit because he NEVER dives into the extent of it, he never acknowledges just how fucking awful he was, he leaves the majority of the abuse he caused out of it, and he plays the victim in order to form allies because empathy is a very strong and molding emotion. This is exactly why all those he’s closest to are empathetic as hell; he knows what works.

10. I was never allowed to have my own truths. Things as simple as words like “trigger” extending to the most fundamental parts of myself (my journals, my favorite band that saved my life as a young teen, the time I spent living in a different state) were rewritten to be something they weren’t. All because my strength, character, and the people who helped shape me were just a massive threat to him. And for what? All I can reckon is his god complex.

11. Apparently I’m overreacting now just as much as I was then. All of it was projection, as he was the one constantly overreacting instead of communicating with me. And it makes sense; he’s always been the one with something to lose. Not me.

The physical abuse was awful, but nothing was as damaging or lasting as his endless gaslighting and manipulation. I’m not ‘letting go’ of the way I was treated and the lack of humility he exhibits that leads me to conclude he will do it again. He is a dangerous liar and no one will convince me otherwise, and especially those who didn’t spend nearly 1,100 days of their life being subjected to it.

[eltanin-malfoy]

Eye For An Eye (Kill Or Be Killed II)

pairing : draco/fem-collegestudent!y/n (not that romantic.. or platonic)

word count : 4.1k

warnings : angst, mentions of murder/poisoning/sex, swearing, smoking

Chapter 1

a/n : any and all feedback is highly appreciated. requests are still open! s/o to @unpeustupide for being a great editor!!!!

Chapter 2 : Eye For An Eye

He’d thought of rushing out after her as she’d been exiting before, but no, that was an awful idea. He did not need the girl assuming him to be some kind of a stalker pursuing her at night, which, after noticing her feisty nature, would likely lead to one of two negative outcomes : 1. She decides to attack him with her umbrella (he could subdue her, for sure, but his skin was sensitive, he didn’t want the bruising to stick out on him like a sore thumb for officers to identify later), or 2. She calls the police (he could attempt to knock her out if she did, but he wasn’t exactly into getting all messy that way, or in any kind of way. He was attempting to kill her with a heavy dosage of potassium chloride, to begin with. Cleanest way possible). So he headed right back to the Employee’s Only room, pouring himself a cup of black coffee and feeling smug at his own genius. Experience really is the best teacher.

Right after his shift, he’d walked home, her name on his lips. He’d whispered it a couple times, any passing stranger might’ve even thought the boy was in love with a Y/N.. but they couldn’t be more wrong, could they? He’d continued to think about her, tried to figure out where she lived, or anywhere else she spent her hours. She’s a student. He thought, puffing on yet another cigarette as he walked up the stairs to his apartment, fiddling with the edge of his coat with his free hand. A university student, right? Didn’t look like a schoolgirl to me. Wasn’t even wearing a uniform to begin with.

He stepped out onto the fourth floor, walking towards his very luxurious place of residence. Sigh. The loud hip hop music playing in his neighbour’s house pounded out as he walked across. He tossed the used cigarette butt in his fingers to the side and delved his hand into the pocket of his coat, pulling his house key out. He walked over to the last door on the floor, quickly reaching to unlock it. He stepped in and covered his left ear, flinching slightly as the pounding got even louder. He walked away from the wall he very unfortunately shared with them and quickly locked the door behind him.

He then scoped out his apartment (not.. very small, just the one bedroom, couch, sub-standard television and a tiny kitchen) to make sure there had been nothing shifted around since he’d left. A necessary precaution, since not only was his landlord notorious for being very nosy, but also venturing into a career path as risky as he was planning to was not without its many, many risks. He then walked over to his (very uncomfortable) bed, pulling off his bulky coat and pacing around a bit.

He wasn’t exactly sure what to do with the girl’s name. It was easy enough to remember it, to write it down in his notebook, to look it up on the internet (on Incognito mode, of course!)… but it wasn’t easy to figure out who she was, exactly, or what way would be easiest for him to get at her. Could just push her into oncoming traffic or something.. No need for the chemicals and everything, seen how easily she falls.  A smile crept its way onto his face as he stared out the window facing the rickety study table he’d somehow managed to buy for his apartment. He shook his head. No. No, it’s too easy. I want to see the light escape her eyes. At first, holding on like as if onto some stray rocks onto a cliff side. I want to see her fight with herself. For her to want to slip away. I want to win.

But how?

He pinched his nose bridge as his brain clouded up with thoughts. How many universities are there around here to begin with? He hesitated, sitting up straight and fiddling with the pale blonde mop of hair on his head nervously. Who’s to say she’s a student at all? Can’t just jump to conclusions like that.. could just fancy carrying backpacks. He shifted towards the side, gaze travelling over the many cracks on the wall. I don’t recall her having a backpack in the supermarket.. so, again, probably a student.

But if she’s a student, she’s got to have somebody paying her fees, right? He furrowed his brows, a bit confused. Oh come on, you can’t go soft just like that.. She’s clearly an awful person, right? All three minutes you’ve managed to see her, she’s shown off nothing but her lack of empathy. Besides, you just need to make sure she isn’t.. well connected. Just separated enough from everyone in her life for no one to notice after she’s been missing for a few weeks. Or months, if that’s possible. He knew this was for him.

Unable to make much progress in that instance, he decided to give it a break and take another fix of nicotine. He got up and eased onto his bed, reaching over into his coat to take out the same pack and his beloved lighter. He then kicked off his shoes, bringing his legs up next to himself. He quickly ignited another cigarette and got up, walking over to the table to stare at the street below. It’s almost December anyways. University final exams have been over a week or so already. She’s either still living at her dorm, which would be.. hard to work around, or has her own apartment, hopefully without a roommate. Or, her roommate may have gone home while she stayed.. or.. maybe she’s home from uni? How the fuck am I supposed to tell-

No sooner had he lit the last cigarette in the pack that all of a sudden, his neighbour actually turned off that goddamn cacophony. Somehow, the silence surprised him. W-what’s happening? It hasn’t been this quiet all fifty days since I moved in! He heard their front door opening and couldn’t help but listen in to what was going on. Not exactly his fault the walls were that thin.

“Seriously? You’re here to see me now? Do you not understand anything about boundaries?” His neighbour’s voice was.. quite loud, to say the least. It was almost louder than the awful music he chose to play at all hours of the night. “Seriously, Cormac? You haven’t returned a single call or text I’ve sent you this whole week! And the last.” The girl’s voice struck out to him like a bullet.

“Y/N, I’ve just been busy.. You know me, baby.” His voice was a bit softer this time, possibly growing afraid in front of that she-devil.

“Oh, shut up. We both know you’ve just been ignoring me. Did you really think you could end.. this by ghosting me?” Her voice rose an octave as she voiced the second part of her question.

“Well.. come on, I wasn’t ghosting you. I just.. forgot to check my messages.”

Draco could almost hear her rolling her eyes. “Just.. stop it. Do you really think I’m that daft? Goddammit! Maybe I am, can’t believe I gave you even a second of my life. You really are as big of an asshole as everyone says you are!”  

“You can’t just.. come to my house and insult me!” He exclaimed.

“You can’t just treat a girl like a used tissue paper.” She shot back.. Shit. “And I’ll bet you’d still text me in a couple of nights when you felt horny again, you bastard!”

One of them then hit the wall they shared and Draco sprung back slightly, not realising how close he’d moved in to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“Fine then, if that’s what you’d like to believe!” Cormac yelled.

“You don’t get to act like the victim, you fucking bastard. Why don’t you go cry in the lap of whichever girl you’ve slept with?” She roared and one of them paced off quickly, walking to the door.

Draco decided to follow along, but trying to come up with a way to piece together a conversation through which he could try and interrogate his neighbour so as to find out as much as possible about his ex. Wait, she bought something for a car. That means she’ll be driving out of here soon.. never mind, there is no parking lot in this sketchy neighbourhood. He shook his head, walking over to his front door, staring out of the small peephole and at the hallway in front of him. He did, in fact, manage to get a good look at this prospective victim.

“If you have a shred of self-respect, don’t you ever contact me again!!” She cried out, kicking the wall to the side of his neighbour’s door, then flinching back slightly in pain. Dumb bitch.

“I will not, you clingy bitch!” Cormac returned, which led to her bringing her palm up and smacking it across his face, leaving a red streak over his cheek. Draco had a sudden sense of deja vu, as though from a dream, or another life..

“I have nothing more to say to you.. “ She grit her teeth and began walking to the staircase, not showing any sign of weakness in that moment. ‘Cormac’ was still holding his cheek, clearly in pain after her attack. The lad even opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it. He deserved that, but, is she really always this violent? Would make it hard to take her down like that..

He quickly walked back over to his bedroom, staring out the window as he awaited her final exit. He reached over and turned off the light, realising that this would be a very good way for her to realise that he was watching her. He watched her step out, shivering slightly in the cold as she crossed her arms. He finally took the last and final puff of his cigarette, and let out a good long exhale. He tossed the cigarette butt out the window, which prompted a soft noise. Y/N turned around at this and even looked up. Her gaze somehow preemptively travelled upwards, staring at the fourth floor windows before pausing for a second at Draco’s own. She squinted slightly and stared down at the floor, before heading off again.

Damn it.

People.

He quickly headed back to his front door and peered out, smiling to himself as he caught a glance of Cormac still stood there silently, for some reason waiting for her to return. He opened the door and proceeded to lay it on thick. The Malfoys were known for being sly after all, and he kind of felt like acting for a bit, anyway.

“Hey, mate. Couldn’t help but hear what just went down.. You doing alright there?”

Cormac’s flushed a bit at this, obviously embarrassed at the way his new neighbour had come to know of him. “Hey.. I.. yeah, I’m okay. Thanks.” He paused for a second, sizing him up. Maybe he’s a little intimidated. Draco could feel how awkward it was getting and decided to take care of that himself. He walked over to his door and held out his hand for him to shake it.

“I’m Draco, some of my mates like to call me ‘Drago’, you know like dragon? Just poking at this huge fear of lizards.” Draco laughed to seem idiotic, yet ordinary. Wasn’t too hard, Cormac forced a giggle. What was he, a fucking schoolgirl? “Sorry I didn’t come to see you yet, moving has been a little tricky.”

Cormac slowly lifted his hand and shook it. “Nice to meet ya. I’m Cormac.” Yeah, I know. “When did you move in, actually? I hadn’t realised..”

“Couple months back. D’you wanna pop in for a beer? Looks like you might need one.” Cormac smirked at this.

“Could never say no to one of those.” Draco grinned and walked back over to his flat with him, opening the door and leading him in. Get him drunk. Get him talking. You can do this.

He took a deep breath.

***

A good hour of stale small talk later, Draco had enough information to have some sort of profile on her. As soon as Cormac headed out the door, Draco locked it behind him and trashed the bottles the bloke had taken upon himself to finish, while he threw out the one he’d decided to have. He decided to write everything up as quickly as possible, wanting to make sure he could get all that information on paper while it was still in his head.

Student at London School Of Business. (of course she picked the subject his father favoured the most!) Seems like she lives somewhere nearby though, wouldn’t be walking around in the middle of the night like that, not too far from campus. He even wrote ‘Ex said the only time he really liked her was when they fucked’ which Draco then decided to strike through. (Unnecessary and irrelevant to case!) Has a public Instagram profile - Oh fuck. He nearly hit follow. Wouldn’t that have been a fucking disaster. He just scrolled through all the food, frivolous spending, and countless other idiotic highlights of stupid Y/N and her stupid friends and her stupid life. He’s probably doing them all a huge favour.

But this was basically all he knew about her. Cormac was obviously uninterested in discussing his now ex, with whom he’d only been with a couple months, and would rather discuss recent soccer matches. Draco politely obliged with that, but was very, very happy to see him off when he finally decided to leave.

After writing everything up, Draco informed his manager that he’d pick up the late shift again the next day, setting out a plan to scope out his victim’s college campus and pick up on her schedule.

***

The next morning, Draco woke up bright and early to the sound of his stupid phone alarm going off. He reached over to turn it off and pulled his patchy quilt over his head, but then soon reminded himself of today’s mission. No. Not today. It’s time.

Draco had downloaded an app onto his phone last night. One that connected people happy to walk others’ dogs. Frankly, he didn’t give a flying fuck about dogs, but, he had to find a way to walk around the area without looking like a total creep. It worked. He managed to find someone nearby who wanted their beagle walked the next morning, so he reached out, and managed to arrange to pick it up at eight o’clock the next morning, which would hopefully be enough for him to make it to the campus in time for her to get there.

He was thinking of putting on a disguise too, but his plan was a bit.. immediate, so he didn’t exactly have a lot of time. He decided to skip his usual long hair routine, those expensive hair products one of the few luxuries he allowed himself to purchase. Instead, he decided to tuck his hair up behind a baseball cap. Not only was that totally uncharacteristic of him to wear, but it also seemed to perfectly mask one of his most striking features. He’d decided to go ahead and shave, however, wanting to hide any of that pale stubble that grew onto his face.

He didn’t exactly own any cosmetics, he’d thought it genuinely wasn’t for him, even after various female friends of his encouraged him to try it. Of course, before, it was also his dad who would clearly have disapproved, but even now, he didn’t understand why he would waste all that money.. in an effort to look better. I look just fine.. but.. I need to look different, for once. But, alas, there was no way for him to contour his face now and make it look even the littlest bit more pointed. No real way for him to color his skin to make him seem just a bit more tanned than he was. So, he decided to just busk it and bear it with a grin.

His clothes however, he decided to change up a bit. He didn’t own a lot of brightly colored clothing at all, and it was almost a joke among his old friends to tease him about how much he fancied wearing dark clothes. But good old Pansy, on his birthday earlier in the year, she’d taken it upon herself to brighten up his closet. She’d bought him a couple of floral patterned Hawaiian shirts, as well as a couple of multicolored sweaters. The Hawaiian shirts would look a tad out of fashion and probably even more weird out like this.. so, he settled on one of the sweaters. He even put on a pair of boxy sunglasses that would block out the greyish sapphire of his eyes.

My best features won’t be on display.. but it works for the cause, he decided, as he looked himself over in the mirror. He set his cap tight on his head and took a deep breath, walking over to his night stand to pick up his phone and wallet. Alright, time for the first step of your first mission. Don’t get too jittery. She’s just a girl. A very rude, annoying girl. He set them in his pocket and cleared up behind himself, tidying up his bed in an to attempt to shrug off his nerves.

Not to mention, stupid. He reminded himself as he stepped out.

***

He headed to his nearest convenience store after he got out, picking up a new pack of cigarettes. He lit one up to fill his insides with tar (rather than with doubt), and walked over to the dog’s owner’s place, engaging in some polite conversation and finally escorting the dog away. It was a small brown beagle, about two years old. The dog sniffed him up the moment he arrived, but Draco managed to get it out of the building without it noticing anything too weird about him.

He fixed his sunglasses one last time as he neared the campus, looking around a few times as the dog walked around and annoyed other pedestrians with its nosy snout. He checked out the map on his phone one last time before finally nearing the campus he’d been thinking about for most of the night.

He reached for yet another cigarette, but fumbled slightly, dropping the pack on the floor. As soon as he leaned down to pick it up, the goddamned dog decided to run up at someone and his leash fell out of Draco’s loose, shivering grasp. It’s the nicotine, THE NICOTINE.

The dog barked, almost in celebration, and continued across the campus, running along the lawns as Draco finally clutched the pack and ran off after him.

You’d never think something so small and annoying could be so fast. His heart began to race, almost uncharacteristically. He was an avid soccer player back in secondary school. He didn’t exactly have a low stamina. Suddenly, the dog stopped in its tracks, sniffing desperately at someone’s grey sneakers. He heard a soft giggle and froze himself, slowly looking up to lock eyes with… his own victim.

How’d this bitch managed to calm down the other? He thought to himself. She didn’t seem to recognise him, so he tried to keep up an act. She knelt down and began to stroke its head, drawing attention to her short, perfectly manicured nails. Fucking priss.

“Your dog is so cute.” She uttered, her voice all flowery and sweet for some reason. He gulped and bent slightly himself, his hands on his knees as he looked down at the mutt. “Thanks.. I agree.” He forced his voice to be a bit more gruff and raspy. Like one of those guys on WWE. She smiled and looked up at him again, almost curiously. “He’s a beagle, right?” He? “Uh.. yeah. Only two years old.” The dog made one of those soft, squeaking noises that made Draco cringe, but she looked at it with even more fondness.

“You’re such a sweet boy, so sweet.” She scratched between his ears and looked up at him again. “He really is. You’ve trained him so well.” He chuckled and felt his cheeks flush. What? You are really out of it today.“Hah.. thanks. He can be a bit annoying sometimes, though.” She just shrugged slightly. “Ah well, isn’t every boy?” She sighed, and Draco was suddenly reminded of last night’s events, which of course, this innocent dog owner knew nothing about. “I guess so.” He didn’t really know what to say at this point..

“But, you seem nice. Do you.. stay around here?” That same smile returned to her face and she fluttered her lashes. What is she doing? She just broke up with that prick last night. “I.. uh.. No.. j-just visiting a friend.”   He croaked out, reaching down and grabbing his leash. “Oh, um, alright. Nice to meet you.” She slowly stood up, smoothing out her hair. This allowed him to get a good look at what she had on : a thick purple turtleneck sweater and yet another pair of dark jeans. That same plaster from yesterday was visible through the fabric. “I should get going..” She started, looking down at the barking dog again. “Bye bye!” She waved at the animal, then up at him again, walking off. Draco did the same, albeit reluctantly.

He turned around and looked the other way, clenching his jaw. You can’t.. get friendly with your victim like that! Thank god she’s so dumb, otherwise she would’ve seen right through your shoddy disguise. The dog yipped again. Oh goddammit. He turned back towards Y/N to see her looking back at him, before flinching and walking off again. What is she doing? She didn’t recognise me. Oh fuck, or did she? She started off at a brisk pace, rounding the corner and walking to another building.

The dog decided it needed to empty its bladder, so it walked over to a brief patch of mud by the concrete to do its business. Draco followed and decided to wait at the position a few minutes, so he could continue and follow her to her first class.

Soon enough, it finished up and he lead it to a courtyard, where there were students sitting around and even perking up as they noticed the dog. Shit.. they’re just going to blow my cover.. I should get out of here. He turned to leave, pulling the dog quickly along with him.

*** Even though his trip to her university had been.. unsuccessful, he reassured himself. Thank god she feels the need to document so much about herself on social media. I’ll get more on her in no time. He headed back to the dog’s owner’s and returned it, lying and telling him he’d been an absolute angel. He rolled his eyes the instant he shut the door, quickly walking off and back to his place.

He decided to smoke a few more cigarettes in an attempt to de-stress and thought to walk down to his apartment building’s basement to kill time until his next shift. He walked past the wall of mailboxes for each of the many flats in the building and stopped as he realised there was something sticking out of his own. He didn’t have the key for it, but the haphazard way this envelope had been wedged in, it was clear he didn’t really need it. He tossed the cigarette in his hands to the side and reached to pull it out.

Careful.. He thought to himself, holding up the metal flap and drawing out the surprisingly light envelope. He wasn’t careful enough, though. The flap drew back alarmingly hard and pushed his hand out of the mailbox, leaving a slight cut on his finger. He drew his hand back and looked back at it, pressing it in an attempt to stop the slight bleeding.

He grabbed the envelope tightly in his bleeding hand and walked back up the stairs, hands in his pockets as he winced slightly in pain. He unlocked his door as fast as he could and walked inside, shutting it behind him as he walked over to his couch. He took a seat and looked the envelope over. Hmm… no return address or sender? That’s weird.

He opened it up, a small trickle of his blood down the side of the paper. He pulled out the letter, which was a single note folded in half. His fingers quickly unearthed the message inside, and he couldn’t help as the feeling of absolute shock flooded his mind, a crease furrowing in on his forehead as his eyes widened behind his dark shade.

Be careful, Malfoy. I can see you.

Chapter 3

#draco x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco #hp au #hp #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #hp imagine #angst #murder #repost because tumblr decided to fuck up

[umino-miyuki]

some thoughts on Miyuki and Choko from Happy, with comparisons to Monster because I still find it hilarious that they were running at the same time.

Umino Miyuki vs. Kenzo Tenma

I’ve always thought there were a lot of similarities between Miyuki and Tenma. black-haired protagonists who are constantly persecuted but persevere nonetheless. this post includes a chart drawn by Urasawa comparing his protagonists based on selfishness and innate genius. both Miyuki and Tenma are described as geniuses, though apparently Miyuki is even more naturally perfect at tennis than Tenma is at doctoring.

both characters suffer from “more talented younger sibling” issues, though looking at family relationships is where the comparisons between the two begin to fall apart a bit. according to Another Monster, Tenma was favored by his father over his older brother for his talent, while it seems like Miyuki’s brother simply felt insecure because of her skill. Miyuki’s parents are portrayed as 100% caring and supportive, while Tenma’s mother was harsh and critical and his father mercenary. 

Miyuki’s brother’s get rich quick schemes led to the death of her parents, causing her to blame herself and quit tennis. on the other hand, Tenma’s father pressured him into taking over his business, which would have been an insult to his brother. rather than follow through with this, Tenma chose to move to Germany and remain estranged from his family, despite his brother’s attempts to reconcile him with their father. 

this brings up an interesting difference between Tenma and Miyuki. both characters have magnetic personalities, influence those around them, and end up gathering somewhat of a following. however, Tenma leaves people behind--his family, Eva, Dieter, Nina, etc.--while Miyuki runs after people, no matter what they’ve done to her.

despite both of them preferring to carry their burdens alone, they end up inspiring altruism in others. but their actual goals are quite different, as Miyuki is specifically fighting for the sake of her family, while Tenma feels it’s his responsibility to kill Johan. this may be why Miyuki is ranked as far more selfless than Tenma. 

another difference is that I think Tenma is a lot more passive as a character than Miyuki. while they both suffer constantly, Tenma takes everything without protest, at least after a certain point. he’s described as a martyr several times, but I think of him more as an atoner--he feels as though everything that happens in the story is his fault, and thus the bad that comes to him is something he has to accept.

on the other hand, Miyuki stands up for herself just as much as she stands up for others. she argues with the ref when he makes a bad call, refuses to take insults, and never allows herself to be bought. in this way, she’s arguably more of an active protagonist than Tenma.

Ryugasaki Choko vs. Johan Liebert

then we have our manipulative blond antagonists. beyond those attributes, however, Choko and Johan don’t have too much in common.

while Johan was shaped by extreme deprivation, Choko’s villainy is rooted in privilege. both Johan and Choko may view others as worthless, but Choko goes a step further and views herself as superior, stemming from her wealthy upbringing. unlike Monster which focuses on how trauma can lead to violence and suffering, in Happy, the source of bad behavior is entitlement. Johan is a very complex case psychologically, but Choko is a textbook example of a narcissist. in her mind, she’s deserving of the best, and she’ll do whatever it takes to get her way.

Johan manipulates by understanding others, feeding on their needs, while Choko is adept at manipulating public image, boosting her own reputation and running smear campaigns against those she wants to destroy. both characters have a tendency to target specific victims, but in very different ways. Johan doesn’t hate Tenma or Nina--in fact, they’re some of the only people he seems to have positive feelings towards. on the other hand, Choko hates Miyuki from the very beginning. 

I’ve argued before that Johan doesn’t lack empathy at all, but in my opinion, Choko does. she can’t understand why people like Miyuki, and it drives her crazy. Johan understands altruism and helping behavior perfectly well, and can exploit it to his advantage, but Choko can only think of it as inexplicable and stupid. 

when Choko believes Miyuki prostituted herself to get money, she admits defeat, because doing anything for money is something she can understand. it’s only when Miyuki perseveres despite torment and fights for what she thinks is right that Choko is enraged. near the beginning of the story, Miyuki doesn’t recognize Choko, and Choko assumes she pretended not to know her as an insult--assigning Miyuki her own motives. in fact, almost all the things Choko spreads as rumors about Miyuki are things she herself did. 

this is standard behavior for narcissistic people. they believe themselves to be perfect, can’t understand those who are different from themselves, and therefore believe that difference is a sign of that something is wrong or lesser. further, narcissistic people have huge but unstable egos--they have to put others down in order to feel good about themselves and avoid facing their own flaws by projecting them on to others. in contrast, Johan totally lacks an ego, leaving him with nothing to do but act out the programming others put into him. 

beyond looking down on Miyuki for being poor, Choko is also motivated by jealousy, which brings us to her other main victim, Keiichiro. 

while Johan sees Nina as a reflection of himself, Choko views Keiichiro as property. she enjoys tormenting him almost as much as Miyuki, but for different reasons. she wants to stamp Miyuki into the ground, but with Keiichiro, she’s trying to control him. 

despite her mother’s wishes, Choko is interested in him as a romantic partner. she thinks she wants him because he’s rich and handsome, but as the story goes on, this motive is complicated. as villains, both Choko and Johan are set up as totally uncaring, but it’s ultimately revealed that both are capable of having attachments to others.

after Keiichiro fails to become a professional tennis player, Choko decides to dump him and look for other prospects, a very common behavior for narcissists known as “discarding.” however, she continues to manipulate him and attempt to get sole power over him. 

she isolates him from everyone and tells him that he’ll always have her, in a move common to abusive people. near the end of the story, his lack of reciprocation begins to bother her more and more, and she eventually realizes she’s actually in love with him. 

I find it interesting how Choko was totally unaware of her feelings, even though from the beginning, her hatred of Miyuki was rooted in the fact that Keiichiro cared about her--not just that she was getting in the way of a potentially lucrative relationship. unlike Tenma and Miyuki, who are fairly in touch with themselves, Johan and Choko are both lashing out without being aware of their own motivations. 

Story Trajectory

I find both Happy and Monster interesting for their hero/villain dynamics and for how they’re ultimately resolved. Johan is set up as a monster who has to be killed, and Choko is so utterly horrid that the reader is on the edge of their seat, waiting for her to face repercussions. in both cases, Urasawa subverts expectations by moving the goal away from punishing the villain. 

just as Johan ultimately moves on with his life, Choko decides to stop being a malignant narcissist. her character development is really interesting when considering what narcissistic people are like. most of the damage they do isn’t from their egos--it’s from the way they cover up their actions and true personalities. Choko being openly rude and petty is far less dangerous than when she spent all her time pretending to be something she wasn’t. 

in both stories, Urasawa gives both his heroes and villains arcs, and in fact, allows his villains to change more than his heroes. Johan and Choko try to change their protagonists, and so Tenma and Miyuki’s refusal to give up who they are is the point of their heroic journey. no matter what Johan tries, he can’t turn Tenma into a killer, and no matter what Miyuki goes through, she always finds a way to be happy. and their steadfastness is what sparks the change in the antagonists. 

Postscript: Umino Miyuki vs. Nina Fortner

Tenma is a character who doesn’t seem to care what happens to himself in the end, but Miyuki is someone who fights for her own happiness to the bitter end. in this way, she’s more similar to Nina Fortner than Tenma. in Another Monster, Lipsky describes Nina as someone who despite being hurt, “still believed in the possibility of happiness in her life. She never gave up; she kept seeking it. She really knew, instinctually, that her life had to have a happy ending.” this could just as easily have been said about Miyuki, and their character designs are almost exactly the same except for their hair. I just love how many crossovers there are between both works!

#btw ive been finished w my massive analysis for a while #and am stuck in the editing phase #kind of lost my passion bc i feel like it's dumb but you know #still love urasawa still wanna write so here

[makistar2018]

All 125 Taylor Swift Songs, Ranked From Worst to Best

By NATE JONES April 30, 2019

In this business, there are two subjects that will boost your page views like nothing else: Game of Thrones and Taylor Swift. One of them is a massive, multi-million-dollar enterprise filled with violence and betrayal, and the other airs on HBO. I find it hard to explain why exactly, and I’m sure Swift would, too: Somehow, this one 27-year-old woman from Wyomissing, Pennsylvania, keeps finding herself at the center of our national conversations about race, gender, celebrity, victimhood, even the economics of the tech industry. And, outside the legions of fans who eat up everything she puts out, no take on her ever stays solid for long. She was a precocious teenager, and the ultimate embodiment of white privilege. She’s been feminism’s worst nightmare, and an advocate for victims of sexual assault. Some people say she’s a goddess of the alt-right. Other people say she’s Jewish.

And yet, unlike Madonna or Bowie, Swift got through the first 11 years of her career without any major reinventions. (For 1989, she embraced feminism and threw away the last vestiges of her Nashville sound, but those were basically just aesthetic changes.) If the word on her has shifted since her debut, it’s because we’ve changed, not her. Swift — or at least the version of Swift on her albums — has remained largely the same person since her debut: a thin-skinned, bighearted obsessive, with a penchant for huge romantic moments. People don’t slowly ease into a relationship in her songs; they show up at each other’s doors late at night and they kiss in the rain. An unworthy suitor won’t just say something thoughtless; he’ll skip a birthday party or leave a teenage girl crying alone in a hotel room. Listen to her songs and you’ll ache at the resemblance to the most dramatic moments in your own private history. Listen to too many and you might ache again at the nagging feeling that those stories of yours have all been a bit uneventful and drab by comparison. What sort of real life can stand up against fantasies like these?

So, uh, I don’t recommend you listen to this list top to bottom.

But I do recommend sampling as many of these songs as you see fit. Even with the widespread critical embrace of poptimism — a development I suspect has as much to do with the economics of online media as it does with the shifting winds of taste — there are still those who see Swift as just another industry widget, a Miley or Katy with the tuner set to “girl with a guitar.” If this list does anything, I hope it convinces you that, underneath all the thinkpieces, exes, and feuds, she is one of our era’s great singer-songwriters. She may not have the raw vocal power of some of her competitors, but what she lacks in Mariah-level range she makes up for in versatility and personality. (A carpetbagger from the Pennsylvania suburbs, she became an expert code-switcher early in her career and never looked back.) And when it comes to writing instantly memorable pop songs, her only peers are a few anonymous Swedish guys, none of whom perform their own stuff. I count at least ten stone-cold classics in her discography. Others might see more. No matter how high your defenses, I guarantee you’ll find at least one that breaks them down. 

Some ground rules: We’re ranking every Taylor Swift song that’s ever been released with her name on it — which means we must sadly leave out the unreleased 9/11 song “Didn’t They” as well as Nils Sjöberg’s “This Is What You Came For” — excluding tracks where Swift is merely “featured” (no one’s reading this list for B.o.B.’s “Both of Us”) but including a few duets where she gets an “and” credit. Songwriting is an important part of Swift’s spellbook, so covers are treated more harshly than originals. Because Swift’s career began so young, we’re left in the awkward position of judging work done by a literal high-schooler, which can feel at times like punching down. I’ll try to make slight allowances for age, reserving the harshest criticism for the songs written when Swift was an adult millionaire.

125. “Look What You Made Me Do,” Reputation (2017): “There’s a mistake that I see artists make when they’re on their fourth or fifth record, and they think innovation is more important than solid songwriting,” Swift told New York back in 2013. “The most terrible letdown as a listener for me is when I’m listening to a song and I see what they were trying to do.” To Swift’s credit, it took her six records to get to this point. On a conceptual level, the mission here is clear: After the Kim-Kanye feud made her the thinking person’s least-favorite pop star, this comeback single would be her grand heel turn. But the villain costume sits uneasily on Swift’s shoulders, and even worse, the songwriting just isn’t there. The verses are vacuous, the insults have no teeth, and just when the whole thing seems to be leading up to a gigantic redemptive chorus, suddenly pop! The air goes out of it and we’re left with a taunting Right Said Fred reference — the musical equivalent of pulling a Looney Tunes gag on the listener. Other Swift songs have clunkier rhymes, or worse production values, but none of them have such a gaping hole at the center. (I do dig the gleeful “Cuz she’s dead!” though.)

124. “Umbrella,” iTunes Live From Soho (2008): Swift has recorded plenty of covers in her career, and none are less essential than this 90-second rendition of the Rihanna hit recorded at the peak of the song’s popularity. It’s pure college-campus coffeehouse.

123. “Christmas Must Mean Something More,” The Taylor Swift Holiday Collection (2007): One of two originals on Swift’s early-career Christmas album, “Something More” is a plea to put the Christ back in Christmas. Or as she puts it: “What if happiness came in a cardboard box? / Then I think there is something we all forgot.” In the future, Swift would get better at holding onto some empathy when she was casting a critical eye at the silly things people care about; here, the vibe is judgmental in a way that will be familiar to anyone who’s ever reread their teenage diary.

122. “Better Than Revenge,” Speak Now (2010): A nasty little song that has not aged well. Whether a straightforward imitation of Avril Lavigne’s style or an early attempt at “Blank Space”–style self-satirization, the barbs never go beyond bratty. (As in “Look What You Made Me Do,” the revenge turns out to be the song itself, which feels hollow.) Best known now for the line about “the things she does on the mattress,” which I suspect has been cited in blog posts more times than the song itself has been listened to lately.

121. “American Girl,” Non-album digital single (2009): Why would you cover this song and make it slower?

120. “I Want You Back,” Speak Now World Tour – Live (2011): Another 90-second cover of a pop song that does not particularly benefit from a stripped-down arrangement.

119. “Santa Baby,” The Taylor Swift Holiday Collection (2007): Before Ariana Grande’s “Santa Tell Me,” there was only one holiday song about falling in love with Santa, and for some reason, we spent decades making all our young female singers cover it. Swift’s version leans out of the awkwardness by leaning into the materialism; she puts most of her vocal emphasis on the nice presents she hopes Santa will bring her. (The relationship seems to be fairly quid pro quo: She’ll believe in him if he gives her good gifts — even at this early stage, Swift possessed a savvy business sense.) Otherwise, this is a by-the-numbers holiday cover, complete with sleigh bells in the mix.

118. “Sweet Escape,” Speak Now World Tour – Live; Target edition DVD (2011): Swift’s sedate cover of the 2006 Gwen Stefani hit — those “ooh-ooh”s are pitched way down from Akon’s falsetto in the original — invests the song with a bittersweet vibe, though like anyone who’s ever tried the song at karaoke, she stumbles on the rapid-fire triplets in the first verse.

117. “Silent Night,” The Taylor Swift Holiday Collection (2007): Swift’s cover of the Christmas classic veers significantly away from Franz Xaver Gruber’s original melody, and even gives it a Big Taylor Swift Finale. Points for ambition, but sometimes you just want to hear the old standards the way you remember them.

116. “The Last Time,” Red (2012): Red is Swift’s strongest album, but it suffers a bit from pacing issues: The back half is full of interminable ballads that you’ve got to slog through to get to the end. Worst of all is this duet with po-faced Ulsterman Gary Lightbody, which feels about ten minutes long.

115. “Invisible,” Taylor Swift: Special Edition (2006): A bonus track from the debut that plays like a proto–”You Belong With Me.” The “show you” / “know you” rhymes mark this as an early effort.

114. “…Ready for It?,” Reputation (2017): The second straight misfire off the Reputation rollout, this one sees Swift try her hand at rapping, with some ill-advised bars about Elizabeth Taylor and a flow she borrowed from Jay-Z. (Try to rap “Younger than my exes” without spilling into “rest in peace, Bob Marley.”) Bumped up a spot or two for the chorus, a big Swift hook that sounds just like her best work — in this case, because it bites heavily from “Wildest Dreams.”

113. “I Heart ?,” Beautiful Eyes EP (2008): Swift code-switches like a champ on this charmingly shallow country song, which comes from the Walmart-exclusive EP she released between her first two albums. Her vocals get pretty rough in the chorus, but at least we’re left with the delightful line, “Wake up and smell the breakup.”

112. “Bad Blood,” 1989 (2014): When Swift teamed up with Max Martin and Shellback, the marriage of their dark eldritch songcraft nearly broke the pop charts. But when they misfire, the results can be brutal. The lyric here indulges the worst habits of late-period Swift — an eagerness to play the victim, a slight lack of resemblance to anything approaching real life — attached to a schoolyard-chant melody that will never leave your head, even when you may want it to. The remix hollows out the production and replaces Swift’s verses with two from Kendrick Lamar; it’s less embarrassing than the original, which does not make it more memorable.

111. “White Christmas,” The Taylor Swift Holiday Collection (2007):The most bluegrass of Swift’s Christmas tunes, this gentle rendition sees Swift’s vocals cede center stage to the mandolin and fiddle.

110. “Crazier,” Hannah Montana: The Movie soundtrack (2009): When approached by the filmmakers about contributing a song to the Hannah Montana movie, Swift sent in this track, seemingly a holdover from the Fearless sessions. In an admirable bit of dedication, she also showed up to play it in the film’s climax. It’s kind of a snooze on its own, but compared to the other songs on the soundtrack, even Swift’s leftovers shine.

109. “I’d Lie,” Taylor Swift (2006): A bonus track only available to people who bought Swift’s debut at Best Buy. It’s as cute as a study-hall MASH game, and just as easily disposable.

108. “Highway Don’t Care,” Tim McGraw’s Two Lanes of Freedom(2013): After joining Big Machine, McGraw gave Swift an “and” credit here as a professional courtesy. Though her backing vocals are very pleasant, this is 100 percent a Tim McGraw song.

107. “Superman,” Speak Now: Deluxe Edition (2010): A bonus track that’s not gonna make anyone forget Five for Fighting any time soon.

106. “Change,” Fearless (2008): A bit of paint-by-numbers inspiration that apparently did its job of spurring the 2008 U.S. Olympic team to greatness. They won 36 gold medals!

105. “End Game,” Reputation (2017): Swift tries out her blaccent alongside Future and Ed Sheeran, on a track that sounds unmistakably like a Rihanna reject. The only silver lining? She’s better at rapping here than on “…Ready for It?”

104. “The Lucky One,” Red (2012): A plight-of-fame ballad from the back half of Red, with details that never rise above cliché and a melody that borrows from the one Swift cooked up for “Untouchable.”

103. “A Place in This World,” Taylor Swift (2006): Swift’s version of “Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman,” this one feels like it missed its chance to be the theme tune for an ABC Family show.

102. “I Don’t Wanna Live Forever,” Fifty Shades Darker soundtrack (2017): In Fifty Shades Darker, this wan duet soundtracks a scene where Christian Grey and Anastasia Steele go for a sunny boat ride while wearing fabulous sweaters. On brand!

101. “Last Christmas,” The Taylor Swift Holiday Collection (2007): Swift does George Michael proud with this reverent cover of the Wham! classic.

100. “Breathless,” Hope for Haiti Now (2010): Swift covered this Better Than Ezra deep cut for the Hope for Haiti telethon. With only one take to get it right, she did not let the people of Haiti down.

99. “Bette Davis Eyes,” Speak Now World Tour – Live (2012): “There’s some unbelievable music that has come out of artists who are from L.A., did you know that?” Swift asks the audience at the beginning of this live track. The crowd, not being idiots, responds with an enthusiastic yes. This cover loses the two most famous parts of Kim Carnes’s original — the synths and Carnes’s throaty delivery — but the acoustic arrangement and Swift’s intimate vocals bring out the best qualities of the tune.

98. “Eyes Open,” The Hunger Games: Songs From District 12 and Beyond (2012): One of two songs Swift contributed to the first Hunger Games soundtrack. With guitars seemingly ripped straight out of 1998 alt-rock radio, this one’s most interesting now as a preview of Swift’s Red sound.

97. “Beautiful Eyes,” Beautiful Eyes EP (2008): The title track of Swift’s early-career EP finds the young songwriter getting a lot of mileage out of one single vowel sound: Besides the eyes of the title, we’ve got I, why, fly, cry, lullaby, even sometimes. A spirited vocal performance in the outro saves the song from feeling like homework.

96. “The Outside,” Taylor Swift (2006): If you thought you felt weird judging songs by a high-schooler, here’s one by an actual sixth-grader. “The Outside” was the second song Swift ever wrote, and though the lyrics edge into self-pity at times, this is still probably the best song written by a 12-year-old since Mozart’s “Symphony No. 7 in D Major.”

95. “SuperStar,” Fearless: Platinum Edition (2008): This bonus track is a relic of an unfamiliar time when Swift could conceivably be the less-famous person in a relationship.

94. “Starlight,” Red (2012): Never forget that one of the most critically acclaimed albums of 2012 contains a piece of Ethel Kennedy fanfiction. The real story of Bobby and Ethel has more rough spots than you’ll find in this resolutely rose-colored track, but that’s what happens when you spend a summer hanging in Hyannis Port.

93. “Sad Beautiful Tragic,” Red (2012): Another glacially paced song from the back half of Red that somehow pulls off rhyming “magic” with “tragic.”

92. “Innocent,” Speak Now (2010): The disparate reactions to Kanye West stage-crashing Swift at the 2009 VMAs speaks to the Rorschachian nature of Swift’s star image. Was Swift a teenage girl whose moment was ruined by an older man who couldn’t control himself? Or was she a white woman playing the victim to demonize an outspoken black man? Both are correct, which is why everyone’s spent so much time arguing about it. Unfortunately, Swift did herself no favors when she premiered “Innocent” at the next year’s VMAs, opening with footage of the incident, which couldn’t help but feel like she was milking it. (Fairly or not, the comparison to West’s own artistic response hardly earns any points in the song’s favor.) Stripped of all this context, “Innocent” is fine: Swift turns in a tender vocal performance, though the lyrics could stand to be less patronizing.

91. “Girl at Home,” Red: Deluxe Edition (2012): This Red bonus track offers a foreshadowing of Swift’s interest in sparkly ’80s-style production. A singsongy melody accompanies a largely forgettable lyric, except for one hilariously blunt line: “It would be a fine proposition … if I was a stupid girl.”

90. “A Perfectly Good Heart,” Taylor Swift: Special Edition (2006): A pleading breakup song with one killer turn of phrase and not much else.

89. “Mary’s Song (Oh My Oh My),” Taylor Swift (2006): This early track was inspired by Swift’s elderly neighbors. Like “Starlight,” it’s a young person’s vision of lifelong love, skipping straight from proposal to old age.

88. “Come in With the Rain,” Fearless: Platinum Edition (2008): An ode to a long-lost lover that follows the Swift template a tad too slavishly.

87. “Dancing With Our Hands Tied,” Reputation (2017): Reputation sags a bit in the middle, never more than on this forgettable ’80s-inspired track.

86. “Welcome to New York,” 1989 (2014): In retrospect, there could not have been a song more perfectly designed to tick off the authenticity police — didn’t Swift know that real New Yorkers stayed up till 3 a.m. doing drugs with Fabrizio Moretti in the bathroom of Mars Bar? I hope you’re sitting down when I tell you this, but it’s possible the initial response to a Taylor Swift song might have been a little reactionary. When it’s not taken as a mission statement, “Welcome to New York” is totally tolerable, a glimmering confetti throwaway with lovely synths.

85. “Tied Together With a Smile,” Taylor Swift (2006): When she was just a teenager with a development deal, Swift hooked up with veteran Nashville songwriter Liz Rose. The two would collaborate on much of Swift’s first two albums. “We wrote and figured out that it really worked. She figured out she could write Taylor Swift songs, and I wouldn’t get in the way,” Rose said later. “She’d say a line and I’d say, ‘What if we say it like this?’ It’s kind of like editing.” This early ballad about a friend with bulimia sees Swift and Rose experimenting with metaphor. Most of them work.

84. “King of My Heart,” Reputation (2017): Swift is fond of saying that “songs are what you think of on the drive home — you know, the Great Afterthought.” (She says it’s a Joni Mitchell quote, but I haven’t been able to find it.) Anyway, I think that’s why some of the love songs on Reputationdon’t quite land: Swift is writing about a relationship from inside of it, instead of with hindsight. It’s a different skill, which could explain why the boyfriend character here is less vividly sketched than some of her other ones.

83. “Come Back … Be Here,” Red: Deluxe Edition (2012): A vulnerable track about long-distance love, with simple sentiments overwhelmed by extravagant production.

82. “Breathe,” Fearless (2008): A Colbie Caillat collaboration that’s remarkable mostly for being a rare Swift song about a friend breakup. It’s like if “Bad Blood” contained actual human emotions.

81. “Stay Beautiful,” Taylor Swift (2006): Nathan Chapman was a Nashville session guitarist before he started working with Swift. He produced her early demos, and she fought for him to sit behind the controls on her debut; the two would work together on every Swift album until 1989, when his role was largely taken over by Max Martin and Shellback. Here, he brings a sprightly arrangement to Swift’s ode to an achingly good-looking man.

80. “Nashville,” Speak Now World Tour – Live; Target edition DVD (2011): Swift gives some shine to singer-songwriter David Mead with a cover of his 2004 ballad. (Listen to the screams during the chorus and try to guess where this one was recorded.) She treats it with a delicate respect, like she’s handling her grandmother’s china.

79. “So It Goes,” Reputation (2017): Unfortunately not a Nick Lowe cover, this one comes and goes without making much of an impact, but if you don’t love that whispered “1-2-3,” I don’t know what to tell you.

78. “You’re Not Sorry,” Fearless (2008): An unflinching kiss-off song that got a gothic remix for Swift’s appearance as an ill-fated teen on CSI. It shouldn’t work, but it does.

77. “Drops of Jupiter,” Speak Now World Tour – Live (2012): The best of the covers on the live album sees Swift commit to the Train hit like she’d written it herself. If you had forgotten that this song came out in 2001, she keeps the line about Tae Bo.

76. “The Other Side of the Door,” Fearless: Platinum Edition (2008): A bonus track saved from mediocrity by a gutsy outro that hints that Swift, like any good millennial, was a big fan of “Semi-Charmed Life.”

75. “Gorgeous,” Reputation (2017): In the misbegotten rollout for Reputation, “Gorgeous” righted the ship by not being completely terrible. Max Martin and Shellback pack the track with all sorts of amusing audio doodads, but the melody is a little too horizontal to stick, and the lyrics have a touch of first draft about them. (You’d be forgiven for preferring the actual first draft, which is slightly more open and real.)

74. “I Wish You Would,” 1989 (2014): Like “You Are in Love,” this one originated as a Jack Antonoff instrumental track, and the finished version retains his fingerprints. Perhaps too much — you get the sense it might work better as a Bleachers song.

73. “Cold As You,” Taylor Swift (2006): A dead-serious breakup song that proved the teenage Swift (with help from Rose, who’s got a co-writing credit) could produce barbs sharper than most adults: “You come away with a great little story / Of a mess of a dreamer with the nerve to adore you.” Jesus.

72. “Haunted,” Speak Now (2010): In which Swift tries her hand at Evanescence-style goth-rock. She almost pulls it off, but at this point in Swift’s career her voice wasn’t quite strong enough to give the unrestrained performance the song calls for.

71. “This Love,” 1989 (2014): Began life as a poem before evolving into an atmospheric 1989 deep cut. Like an imperfectly poached egg, it’s shapeless but still quite appetizing.

70. “Untouchable,” Fearless: Platinum Edition (2008): Technically a Luna Halo cover (don’t worry about it), though Swift discards everything but the bones of the original. Her subsequent renovation job is worthy of HGTV: It’s nearly impossible to believe this was ever not a Taylor Swift song.

69. “Wonderland,” 1989: Deluxe Edition (2014): A deranged bonus track that sees Swift doing the absolute most. This song has everything: Alice in Wonderland metaphors, Rihanna chants, a zigzag bridge that recalls “I Knew You Were Trouble,” screams. As she puts it, “It’s all fun and games ’til somebody loses their MIND!”

68. “Sweeter Than Fiction,” One Chance soundtrack (2013): Swift’s first collaboration with Jack Antonoff is appropriately ’80s-inspired, and so sugary that a well-placed key change in the chorus is the only thing that staves off a toothache.

67. “I’m Only Me When I’m With You,” Taylor Swift: Special Edition(2006): A rollicking pop-rock tune that recalls early Kelly Clarkson. As if to reassure nervous country fans, the fiddle goes absolutely nuts.

66. “Tell Me Why,” Fearless (2008): A bog-standard tale of an annoyingly clueless guy, but it’s paired with one of Swift and Rose’s most winning melodies.

65. “If This Was a Movie,” Speak Now: Deluxe Edition (2010): The mirror image of “White Horse,” which makes it feel oddly superfluous.

64. “How You Get the Girl,” 1989 (2014): The breeziest and least complicated of Swift’s guy-standing-on-a-doorstep songs, which contributed to the feeling that 1989 was something of an emotional regression. You probably shouldn’t take it as an instruction manual unless you’re Harry Styles.

63. “Don’t Blame Me,” Reputation (2017): A woozy if slightly anonymous love song that comes off as a sexier “Take Me to Church.” [A dozen Hozier fans storm out of the room.]

62. “The Way I Loved You,” Fearless (2008): Written in collaboration with Big and Rich’s John Rich, which may explain how stately and mid-tempo this one is. (There’s even a martial drumbeat.) Here, she’s faced with a choice between a too-perfect guy — he’s close to her mother and talks business with her father — and a tempestuous relationship full of “screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain,” and if you don’t know which one she prefers I suggest you listen to more Taylor Swift songs. Swift often plays guessing games about which parts of her songs are autobiographical, but this one is explicitly a fantasy.

61. “New Romantics,” 1989: Deluxe Edition (2014): Like “22,” an attempt at writing a big generational anthem. That it was left off the album proper suggests Swift didn’t think it quite got there, though it did its job of extending the singles cycle of 1989 a few more months. Despite what anyone says about “Welcome to New York,” the line here about waiting for “trains that just aren’t coming” indicates its writer has had at least one authentic New York experience.

60. “Sparks Fly,” Speak Now (2010): This one dates back to Swift’s high-school days, and was destined for obscurity until fans fell in love with the live version. After what seems like a lot of tinkering, it finally got a proper studio release on Swift’s third album. It’s like “True Love Waits,” but with more kissing in the rain.

59. “Me!,” Untitled Seventh Album (2019): Well, what did we expect? The run-up to “Me!” was preceded by a weeks-long guessing game about what precisely would be the nature of Swift’s April 26 announcement. Would she come out? Would she come out and reveal she had once dated Karlie Kloss? Cut to the fateful day, and the news was … Swift, who is a pop singer, was releasing a new pop song. After the Sturm und Drang of the Reputation era, “Me!” is a return to anodyne sweetness, a mission statement that says, “I’m through making mission statements.” The result is blandly inoffensive, emphasis on the bland.

58. “All You Had to Do Was Stay,” 1989 (2014): Just like the melody to “Yesterday” and the “Satisfaction” riff, the high-pitched “Stay!” here came to its writer in a dream. Inspiration works in mysterious ways.

57. “Delicate, Reputation (2017): With multitracked, breathy vocals, this is Swift at her most tentative. Would any other album’s Taylor be asking, “Is it cool that I said all that?”

56. “Stay Stay Stay,” Red (2012): Swift broke out her southern accent one last time for this attempt at homespun folk, which is marred by production that’s so clean it’s practically antiseptic. In an alternate universe where a less-ambitious Swift took a 9-to-5 job writing ad jingles, this one soundtracked a TV spot for the new AT&T family plan.

55. “Call It What You Want,” Reputation (2017): Many of the Reputationsingles aim at sexy; this airy slow jam about losing yourself in love after a scandal is the only one that gets there, though the saltiness in the verses (“all the liars are calling me one”) occasionally betrays the sentiment.

54. “Ours,” Speak Now: Deluxe Edition (2010): It’s not this song’s fault that the extended version of Speak Now has songs called both “Mine” and “Ours,” and while “Ours” is good … well, it’s no “Mine.” Still, even if this song never rises above cuteness, it is incredibly cute. I think Dad’ll get over the tattoos.

53. “The Best Day,” Fearless (2008): Swift’s parents moved the family to Tennessee so she could follow her musical dreams, and she paid them back with this tender tribute. Mom gets the verses while Dad is relegated to the middle eight — even in song, the Mother’s Day–Father’s Day disparity holds up.

52. “Everything Has Changed,” Red (2012): “We good to go?” For many American listeners, this was the first introduction to a redheaded crooner named Ed Sheeran. It’s a sweet duet and Sheeran’s got a roughness that goes well with Swift’s cleaner vocals, but the harmonies are a bit bland.

51. “Today Was a Fairytale,” Valentine’s Day soundtrack (2010): How much of a roll was Swift on during the Fearless era? This song didn’t make the album, and sat in the vault for a year until Swift signed on for a small role in a Garry Marshall rom-com and offered it up for the soundtrack. Despite the extravagant title, the date described here is charmingly low-key: The dude wears a T-shirt, and his grand gestures are showing up on time and being nice.

50. “Last Kiss,” Speak Now (2010): A good-bye waltz with an understated arrangement that suits the starkness of the lyrics.

49. “You Are in Love,” 1989: Deluxe Edition (2014): The best of Swift’s songs idealizing someone else’s love story (see “Starlight” and “Mary’s Song”), this bonus track sketches Jack Antonoff and Lena Dunham’s relationship in flashes of moments. The production and vocals are appropriately restrained — sometimes, simplicity works.

48. “The Story of Us,” Speak Now (2010): The deluxe edition of Speak Now features both U.S. and international versions of some of the singles, which gives you a sense of how fine-tuned Swift’s operation was by this point. My ears can’t quite hear the difference between the two versions of this exuberant breakup jam, but I suspect the U.S. mix contains some sort of ultrasonic frequencies designed to … sorry, I’ve already said too much.

47. “Clean,” 1989 (2014): Co-written with Imogen Heap, who contributes backup vocals. This is 1989’s big end-of-album-catharsis song, and the water imagery of the lyrics goes well with the drip-drip-drip production. I’d be curious to hear a version where Heap sings lead; the minimalist sound might be better suited for her voice, which has a little more texture.

46. “Getaway Car,” Reputation (2017): Another very Antonoff-y track, but I’m not mad at it. We start with a vocoder she must have stolen from Imogen Heap and end with one of Swift’s most rocking outros, and in between we even get a rare key change.

45. “I Almost Do,” Red (2012): The kind of plaintive breakup song Swift could write in her sleep at this point in her career, with standout guitar work and impressive vulnerability in both lyrics and performance.

44. “Long Live (We Will Be Remembered),” Speak Now (2010):Ostensibly written about Swift’s experiences touring with her band, but universal enough that it’s been taken as a graduation song by pretty much everyone else. Turns out, adolescent self-mythologizing is the same no matter where you are — no surprise that Swift could pull it off despite leaving school after sophomore year.

43. “The Moment I Knew,” Red: Deluxe Edition (2012): An epic account of being stood up that makes a terrible birthday party seem like something approximating the Fall of Troy. If you’re the type of person who stays up at night remembering every inconsiderate thing you’ve ever done, the level of excruciating detail here is like a needle to the heart.

42. “Jump Then Fall,” Fearless: Platinum Edition (2006): An effervescent banjo-driven love song. I get a silly kick out of the gag in the chorus, when Swift’s voice leaps to the top of her register every time she says “jump.”

41. “Never Grow Up,” Speak Now (2010): Swift’s songs where she’s romanticizing childhood come off better than the ones where she’s romanticizing old age. (Possibly because she’s been a child before.) This one is so well-observed and wistful about the idea of children aging that you’d swear she was secretly a 39-year-old mom.

40. “Should’ve Said No,” Taylor Swift (2006): Written in a rush of emotion near the end of recording for the debut, what this early single lacks in nuance it makes up for in backbone. I appreciate the way the end of each verse holds out hope for the cheating ex — “given ooonnne chaaance, it was a moment of weeaaknesssss” — before the chorus slams the door in the dumb lunk’s face.

39. “Back to December,” Speak Now (2010): At the time, this one was billed as a big step for Swift: the first song where she’s the bad guy! Now that the novelty has worn off “Back to December” doesn’t feel so groundbreaking, but it does show her evolving sensitivity. The key to a good apology has always been sincerity, and whatever faults Swift may have, a lack of sincerity has never been one of them.

38. “Holy Ground,” Red (2012): This chugging rocker nails the feeling of reconnecting with an ex and romanticizing the times you shared, and it livens up the back half of Red a bit. Probably ranked too high, but this is my list and I’ll do what I want.

37. “Enchanted,” Speak Now (2010): Originally the title track for Swift’s third album until her label told her, more or less, to cut it with the fairy-tale stuff. It’s a glittery ode to a meet-cute that probably didn’t need to be six minutes long, but at least the extended length gives us extra time to soak up the heavenly coda, with its multi-tracked “Please don’t be in love in with someone else.”

36. “I Know Places,” 1989 (2014): No attempts of universality here — this trip-hop song about trying to find a place to make out when you’re a massive celebrity is only relatable to a couple dozen people. No matter. As a slice of gothic pop-star paranoia, it gives a much-needed bit of edge to 1989. Bumped up a couple of spots for the line about vultures, which I can only assume is a shout-out.

35. “Treacherous,” Red (2012): Swift has rarely been so tactile as on this intimate ballad, seemingly constructed entirely out of sighs.

34. “Dress,” Reputation (2017): An appropriately slinky track that gives us an unexpected payoff for years of lyrics about party dresses: “I only bought this dress so you could take it off,” she says in the chorus. The way the whole song starts and stops is an obvious trick, but I like it.

33. “Speak Now,” Speak Now (2010): The rest of the band plays it so straight that it might take a second listen to realize that this song is, frankly, bonkers. First, Swift sneaks into a wedding to find a bridezilla, “wearing a gown shaped like a pastry,” snarling at the bridesmaids. Then it turns out she’s been uninvited — oops — so she decides to hide in the curtains. Finally, at a pivotal moment she stands up in front of everyone and protests the impending union. Luckily the guy is cool with it, so we get a happy ending! All this nonsense undercuts the admittedly charming chorus, but it’s hard not to smile at the unabashed silliness.

32. “22,” Red (2012): Another collaboration with Martin and Shellback, another absurdly catchy single. Still, there’s enough personality in the machine for this to still feel like a Taylor song, for better (“breakfast at midnight” being the epitome of adult freedom) and for worse (the obsession with “cool kids”). Mostly for better.

31. “Christmases When You Were Mine,” The Taylor Swift Holiday Collection (2007): The clear standout of Swift’s Christmas album, with an endearingly winsome riff and lyrics that paint a poignant picture of yuletide heartbreak. If you’ve ever been alone on Christmas, this is your song.

30. “White Horse,” Fearless (2008): You’d never call Swift a genre deconstructionist, but her best work digs deeper into romantic tropes than she gets credit for. In just her second album, she and Rose gave us this clear-eyed look at the emptiness of symbolic gestures, allegedly finished in a mere 45 minutes. Almost left off the album, but saved thanks to Shonda Rhimes.

29. “I Knew You Were Trouble,” Red (2012): The guiding principle on much of Red seems to have been to throw absolutely every idea a person could think of into a song and see what worked. Here, we go from Kelly Clarkson verses to a roller-coaster chorus to a dubstep breakdown that dates the song as surely as radiocarbon — then back again. It shouldn’t hang together, but the gutsy vocals and vivid lyrics keep the track from going off the rails.

28. “Teardrops on My Guitar,” Taylor Swift (2006): An evocative portrait of high-school heartbreak, equal parts mundane — no adult songwriter would have named the crush “Drew” — and melodramatic. It’s also the best example of Swift and Rose’s early songwriting cheat code, when they switch the words of the chorus around at the end of the song. “It just makes the listener feel like the writer and the artist care about the song,” Rose told Billboard. “That they’re like, “Okay, you’ve heard it, but wait a minute — ’cause I want you know that this really affected me, I’m gonna dig the knife in just a little bit deeper.’” (In a fitting twist, “Teardrops” ended up inspiring a moment that could have come straight out of a Taylor Swift song, when the real Drew showed up outside her house one night. “I hadn’t talked to him in two-and-a-half years,” she told the Washington Post. “He was like: ‘Hey, how’s it going?’ And I’m like: ‘Wow, you’re late? Good to see you?’”)

27. “Begin Again,” Red (2012): Swift’s sequencing genius strikes again: After the emotional roller coaster of Red, this gentle ballad plays like a cleansing shower. (It works so well she’d repeat the trick on 1989, slightly more obviously.) Of all Swift’s date songs, this one feels the most true to life; anyone who’s ever been on a good first date can recall the precise moment their nervousness melted into relief.

26. “New Year’s Day,” Reputation (2017): Like a prestige cable drama, Swift likes to use her final track as a kind of quiet summing-up of all that’s come before. Here, she saves the album’s most convincing love song for last: “I want your midnights / but I’ll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year’s Day” is a great way to describe a healthy relationship. The lovely back-and-forth vocals in the outro help break the tie with “Begin Again.”

25. “Shake It Off,” 1989 (2014): Swift’s second No. 1 was greeted with widespread critical sighs: After the heights of Red, why was she serving up cotton-candy fluff about dancing your way past the haters? (Never mind that Red had its own sugary singles.) Now that we’ve all gotten some distance, the purpose of “Shake It Off” is clear: This is a wedding song, empty-headed fun designed to get both Grandma and Lil Jayden on the dance floor. Docked ten or so spots for the spoken-word bridge and cheerleader breakdown, which might be the worst 24 seconds of the entire album.

24. “Safe and Sound,” The Hunger Games: Songs From District 12 and Beyond (2012): Swift’s collaboration with folk duo the Civil Wars is her best soundtrack cut by a country mile. Freed from the constraints of her usual mode, her vocals paint in corners you didn’t think she could reach, especially when she tries out a high-pitched vibrato that blends beautifully with Joy Williams and John Paul White’s hushed harmonies. Swift has worked in a variety of emotional palettes in her career, but this is the only time she’s ever been spooky.

23. “Picture to Burn,” Taylor Swift (2006): Swift’s breakup songs rarely get more acidic than they do in this country hit. By the time she’s twanging a line about dating all her ex’s friends, things have gotten downright rowdy. The original lyrics — “Go and tell your friends that I’m obsessive and crazy / That’s fine, I’ll tell mine you’re gay” — show how far standards for acceptable speech in nice young people have shifted in the past decade.

22. “Fearless,” Fearless (2008): The title track from Swift’s second album has more of her favorite images — in one memorable twofer, she’s dancing in the rain while wearing her best dress — but she invests them with so much emotion that you’d swear she was using them for the first time. The exuberance of the lyrics is matched in the way she tumbles from line to line into the chorus.

21. “Tim McGraw,” Taylor Swift (2006): If you by chance ever happen to meet Taylor Swift, there is one thing you should know: Do not, under any circumstances, call her “calculating.” “Am I shooting from the hip?” she once asked GQ when confronted with the word. “Would any of this have happened if I was? … You can be accidentally successful for three or four years. Accidents happen. But careers take hard work.” However, since the title of her first single apparently came from label head Scott Borchetta — “I told Taylor, ‘They won’t immediately remember your name, they’ll say who’s this young girl with this song about Tim McGraw?’” — I think we’re allowed to break out the c-word: Calling it “Tim McGraw” was the first genius calculation in a career that would turn out to be full of them. Still, there would have been no getting anywhere with it if the song weren’t good. Even as a teenager, Swift was savvy enough to know that country fans love nothing more than listening to songs about listening to country music. And the very first line marks her as more of a skeptic than you might expect: “He said the way my blue eyes shined put those Georgia pines to shame that night / I said, ‘That’s a lie.’”

20. “Dear John,” Speak Now (2010): “I’ve never named names,” Swift once told GQ. “The fact that I’ve never confirmed who those songs are about makes me feel like there is still one card I’m holding.” That may technically be true, but she came pretty dang close with this seven-minute epic. (John Mayer said he felt “humiliated” by the song, after which Swift told Glamour it was “presumptuous” of him to think that the song his ex wrote, that used his first name, was about him.) She sings the hell out of it, but when it comes to songs where Swift systematically outlines all the ways in which an older male celebrity is an inadequate partner, I think I prefer “All Too Well,” which is less wallow-y. I’ve seen it speculated that the guitar noodling on this track is meant as a parody of Mayer’s own late-’00s output, which if true would be deliciously petty.

19. “Red,” Red (2012): Re-eh-eh-ed, re-eh-eh-ed. Red’s title track sees the album’s maximalist style in full effect — who in their right mind would put Auto-Tune and banjos on the same track? But somehow, the overstuffing works here; it’s the audio equivalent of the lyrics’ synesthesia.

18. “I Did Something Bad,” Reputation (2017): It’s too bad Rihanna already has an album called Unapologetic, because that would have been a perfect title for Reputation, or maybe just this jubilant “Blank Space” sequel. Why the hell she didn’t release this one instead of “Look What You Made Me Do,” I’ll never know — not only does “Something Bad” sell the lack of remorse much better, it bangs harder than any other song on pop radio this summer except “Bodak Yellow.” Is that a raga chant? Are those fucking gunshots? Docked a spot or two for “They’re burning all the witches even if you aren’t one,” which doth protest too much, but bumped up just as much for Swift’s first on-the-record “shit.”

17. “Forever & Always,” Fearless (2008): This blistering breakup song was the one that solidified Swift’s image as the pop star you dump at your own peril. (The boys in the debut were just Nashville randos; this one was about a Jonas Brother, back when that really meant something.) Obligatory fiddles aside, the original version is just about a perfect piece of pop-rock — dig how the guitars drop out at a pivotal moment — though the extended edition of Fearless also contains a piano version if you feel like having your guts ripped out. I have no idea what the lines about “rain in your bedroom” mean, but like the best lyrics, they make sense on an instinctual level. And to top it off, the track marks the introduction of Swift’s colloquial style — “Where is this GOoO-ING?” — that would serve her so well in the years to come.

16. “Mean,” Speak Now (2010): It takes some chutzpah to put a song complaining about mean people on the same album as “Better Than Revenge,” but lack of chutzpah has never been Swift’s problem. Get past that and you’ll find one of Swift’s most naturally appealing melodies and the joyful catharsis that comes with giving a bully what’s coming to them. (Some listeners have interpreted the “big enough so you can’t hit me” line to mean the song’s about abuse, but I’ve always read it as a figure of speech, as in “hit piece.”)

15. “Wildest Dreams,” 1989 (2014): Swift is in full control of her instrument here, with so much yearning in her voice that you’d swear every breath was about to be her last. For a singer often slammed as being sexless, those sighs in the chorus tell us everything we need to know. Bumped up a few spots for the invigorating double-time bridge, the best on 1989.

14. “This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things,” Reputation (2017): Put aside the title, which can’t help but remind me of the time Hillary Clinton tweeted “delete your account.” The same way “I Did Something Bad” is the best possible version of “Look What You Made Me Do,” this is a much better rewrite of “Bad Blood.” Swift brings back the school-yard voice in the chorus, but also so much more: She does exaggerated politeness in the bridge, she spins the “Runaway” toast, she says the words “Therein lies the issue” like she’s been listening to Hamilton. The high point comes when she contemplates forgiving a hater, then bursts into an incredulous guffaw. Reader, I laughed out loud.

13. “Style,” 1989 (2014): The much-ballyhooed ’80s sound on 1989 often turned out to just mean Swift was using more synths than usual, but she nailed the vibe on this slinky single, which could have soundtracked a particularly romantic episode of Miami Vice. Despite the dress-up games in the chorus, this is one of the rare Swift love songs to feel truly adult: Both she and the guy have been down this road too many times to bullshit anymore. That road imagery is haunted by the prospect of death lurking around every hairpin turn — what’s sex without a little danger?

12. “Hey Stephen,” Fearless (2008): Who knew so many words rhymed with Stephen? They all come so naturally here. Swift is in the zone as a writer, performer, and producer on this winning deep cut, which gives us some wonderful sideways rhymes (“look like an angel” goes with “kiss you in the rain, so”), a trusty Hammond organ in the background, and a bunch of endearing little ad-libs, to say nothing of the kicker: “All those other girls, well they’re beautiful / But would they write a song for you?” For once, the mid-song laugh is entirely appropriate.

11. “Out of the Woods,” 1989 (2014): Like Max Martin, Antonoff’s influence as a collaborator has not been wholly positive: His penchant for big anthemic sounds can drown out the subtlety of Swift, and he’s been at the controls for some of her biggest misfires. But boy, does his Jack Antonoff thing work here, bringing a whole forest of drums to support Swift’s rapid-fire string of memories. The song’s bridge was apparently inspired by a snowmobile accident Swift was in with Harry Styles, an incident that never made the tabloids despite what seemed like round-the-clock coverage of the couple — a subtler reminder of the limits of media narratives than anything on Reputation.

10. “Love Story,” Fearless (2008): Full disclosure: This was the first Taylor Swift song I ever heard. (It was a freezing day in early 2009; I was buying shoes; basically, the situation was the total antithesis of anything that’s ever happened in a Taylor Swift song.) I didn’t like it at first. Who’s this girl singing about Romeo and Juliet, and doesn’t she know they die in the end?What I would soon learn was: not here they don’t, as Swift employs a key change so powerful it literally rewrites Shakespeare. The jury’s still out on the question of if she’s ever read the play, but she definitely hasn’t read The Scarlet Letter.

9. “State of Grace,” Red (2012): Swift’s songs are always full of interesting little nuggets you don’t notice until your 11th listen or so — a lyrical twist, maybe, or an unconventional drum fill — but most of them are fundamentally meant to be heard on the radio, which demands a certain type of songwriting and a certain type of sound. What a surprise it was, then, that Red opened with this big, expansive rock track, which sent dozens of Joshua Tree fans searching for their nearest pair of headphones. Another surprise: that she never tried to sound like this again. Having proven she could nail it on her first try, Swift set out to find other giants to slay.

8. “Ronan,” non-album digital single (2012): A collage of lines pulled from the blog of Maya Thompson, whose 3-year-old son had died of cancer, this charity single sees Swift turn herself into an effective conduit for the other woman’s grief. (Thompson gets a co-writing credit.) One of the most empathetic songs in Swift’s catalogue, as well as her most reliable tearjerker.

7. “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together,” Red (2012): Flash back to 2012. Carly Rae Jepsen had a No. 1 hit. Freaking Gotye had a No. 1 hit. LMFAO had two. And yet Swift, arguably the biggest pop star in the country, had never had a No. 1 hit. (“You Belong With Me” and “Today Was a Fairytale” had both peaked at No. 2.) And so she called up Swedish pop cyborg Max Martin, the man who makes hits as regularly as you and I forget our car keys. The first song they wrote together is still their masterpiece, though it feels wrong to say that “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together” was written; better to say that it was designed, as Swift and Martin turn almost every single second of the song’s 3:12 run time into a hook. Think of that guitar loop, the snippets of millennial-speak in the margins (“cuz like”), those spiraling “ooh”s, the spoken-word bit that could have been overheard at any brunch in America, and towering over it all, that gigantic “we.” Like all hyper-efficient products it feels like a visitor from some cold algorithmic future: The sense of joy here is so perfectly engineered that you get the sense it did not come entirely from human hands.

6. “Our Song,” Taylor Swift (2006): Swift wrote this one for her ninth-grade talent show, and I have a lovely time imagining all the other competitors getting the disappointment of their lives once they realized what they were up against. (“But nice job with that Green Day cover, Andy.”) Even at this early stage Swift had a knack for matching her biggest melodic hooks to sentences that would make them soar; that “’cause it’s late and your mama don’t know” is absolutely ecstatic. She’s said she heard the entire production in her head while writing, and on the record Nathan Chapman brings out all the tricks in the Nashville handbook, and even some that aren’t, like the compressed hip-hop drums in the final refrain.

5. “Mine,” Speak Now (2010): As catchy as her Max Martin songs, but with more of a soul, “Mine” wins a narrow victory over “Our Song” on account of having a better bridge. This one’s another fantasy, and you can kind of tell, but who cares — Paul McCartney didn’t really fall in love with a meter maid, either. Swift packs in so many captivating turns of phrase here, and she does it so naturally: It’s hard to believe no one else got to “you are the best thing that’s ever been mine” before her, and the line about “a careless man’s careful daughter” is so perfect that you instantly know everything about the guy. Let’s give a special shout-out to Nathan Chapman again: His backup vocals are the secret weapon of Speak Now, and they’re at their very best here.

4. “Blank Space,” 1989 (2014): You know how almost every other song that’s even a little bit like “Blank Space” ranks very low on this list? Yeah, that’s how hard a trick Swift pulls off on this 1989 single, which manages to satirize her man-eater image while also demonstrating exactly what makes that image so appealing. The gag takes a perfectly tuned barometer for tone: “Look What You Made Me Do” collapsed under the weight of its own self-obsession; “Better Than Revenge” didn’t quite get the right amount of humor in. But Swift’s long history of code-switching works wonders for her here, as she gives each line just the right spin — enough irony for us to get the jokes, enough sincerity that we’ll all sing along anyway. Martin and Shellback bring their usual bells and whistles, but they leave enough empty space in the mix for the words to ring out. Who wouldn’t want to write their name?

3. “Fifteen,” Fearless (2008): For many young people, the real experience of romance is the thinking about it, not the actual doing it. (For an increasing number, the thinking about it is all they’re doing.) Swift gets this almost instinctively, and never more than on this early ballad about her freshman year of high school, which plays like a gentle memoir. Listen to how the emotional high point of the second verse is not something that happens, but her reaction to it: “He’s got a car and you feel like flyyying.” She knows that the real thing is awkward, occasionally unpleasant, and almost guaranteed to disappoint you — the first sentence she wrote for this one was “Abigail gave everything she had to a boy who changed his mind / We both cried,” a line that became exhibit B in the case of Taylor Swift v. Feminism — and she knows how fantasies can sustain you when nothing else will. “In your life you’ll do things greater than dating the boy on the football team / but I didn’t know it at 15,” she sings, even though she’s only 18 herself. That there are plenty of people who spent their teenage years making out, smoking cigarettes, and reading Anaïs Nin doesn’t negate the fact that, for a lot of us squares, even the prospect of holding someone else’s hand could get us through an entire semester. Virgins need love songs, too.

2. “All Too Well,” Red (2012): It’s no wonder that music writers love this one: This is Swift at her most literary, with a string of impeccably observed details that could have come out of a New Yorker short story. “All Too Well” was the first song Swift wrote for Red; she hadn’t worked with Liz Rose since Fearless, but she called up her old collaborator to help her make sense of her jumble of memories from a relationship recently exploded. “She had a story and she wanted to say something specific. She had a lot of information,” Rose told Rolling Stone later. “I just let her go.” The original version featured something like eight verses; together the two women edited it down to a more manageable three, while still retaining its propulsive momentum. The finished song is a kaleidoscopic swirl of images — baby pictures at his parents’ house, “nights where you made me your own,” a scarf left in a drawer — always coming back to the insistence that these things happened, and they mattered: “I was there, I remember it all too well.” The words are so strong that the band mostly plays support; they don’t need anything flashier than a 4/4 thump and a big crescendo for each chorus. There are few moments on Red better than the one where Swift jumps into her upper register to deliver the knockout blow in the bridge. Just like the scarf, you can’t get rid of this song.

1. “You Belong With Me,” Fearless (2008): Swift was hanging out with a male friend one day when he took a call from his girlfriend. “He was completely on the defensive saying, ‘No, baby … I had to get off the phone really quickly … I tried to call you right back … Of course I love you. More than anything! Baby, I’m so sorry,’” she recalled. “She was just yelling at him! I felt so bad for him at that moment.” Out of that feeling, a classic was born. Swift had written great songs drawn from life before, but here she gave us a story of high school at its most archetypal: A sensitive underdog facing off with some prissy hot chick, in a battle to see which one of them really got a cute boy’s jokes. (Swift would play both women in the video; she had enough self-awareness to know that most outcasts are not tall, willowy blonde girls.) Rose says the song “just flowed out of” Swift, and you can feel that rush of inspiration in the way the lines bleed into each other, but there’s some subtle songcraft at work, too: Besides the lyrical switcheroos about who wears what, we also only get half the chorus the first go-round, just to save one more wallop for later. The line about short skirts and T-shirts will likely be mentioned in Swift’s obituary one day, and I think it’s key to the song’s, and by extension Swift’s, appeal: In my high school, even the most popular kids wore T-shirts.

Vulture

#taylor swift #rankings #reputation #music

[buzzworddotie]

The Vixen Bites Back

This is going to be an overview / opinion on all the goings on across Episode 2,3 and Untucked!!

To start I've officially gotten over my lack of remembering names and continue to be 100% in love with this season, because even if the challenges are a bit Wah-Wah the fucking Queens are everything!!

First off, I'm just going straight there. The Vixen. I thought initially she was going to bug me because she was seeking drama for dramas sake. However, as I think Cracker rightly says, this girl is SMART. If you didn't catch episode 3 and specifically Untucked for that one, well you've missed out on a Queen telling it exactly how it is, pulling no bullshit and finally speaking all the truth!

Yes The Vixen, Yes! This Queen and Aquaria have been going in on each other and it has not been one sided. Aquaria was giving it all that on her high horse about Cracker stealing from her. She wasn't afraid to mouth off when she felt safe and hidden from her "foe". However The Vixen had zero issue in calling bullshit once Aquaria decided to dodge the opportunity to confront Cracker back in the workroom, which was weird since she did say that it was her intention to do so...

Yet for some reason as episodes pass, Aquaria decided to go ahead and poke the bear some more. When she called out The Vixen for that wig swap what was she expecting exactly? To not get bitten back?

The genius of The Vixen is that she is prepared and able to argue back. And not in a bitchy way, she is able to have her bullet points lined up and completely call out anyone's shit. She's clever and I imagine she would happily go toe to toe with anyone in a debate. Where it all fell down for Aquaria however is that she is unable to bring the debate back to her.

Aquaria is like the embodiment of social media culture. She is happy to say something that may cause some controversy or be a bit bitchy so long as she feels safe, like any keyboard warrior. But there is nowhere to hide here so once she suddenly has to take a rebuttle, she immediately feels "attacked". And she's not, she's not attacked, she's not being bullied, she is simply getting her comeuppance for the things she says. But since she doesn't have the wit to stand behind what she says, she feels hurt.

Look I'm all for empathy, to my detriment at times, but it is hard to feel sorry for Aquaria in these confrontations with The Vixen. And I don't think that means Aquaria deserves to be attacked or have her character assassinated but I also don't think that The Vixen should have to monitor what she says to her.

The Vixen made it clear that she is ready to stand her ground, she doesn't scream or threaten, she simply provides a logical argument. Take the wig scenario, Aquaria mentions that clearly the runway doesn't matter in her view, so The Vixen can obviously rebutte that that statement makes her poking about the wig redundant. And she's right.

In Untucked we see the whole situation get brought up again only now even Dusty gets to comment on her feelings of Aquaria being cold outside of the show. This all results in Aquaria "crying".

Aquaria's emotions came from being called out and it was an instant defence mechanism. It wasn't because of any one thing hurting her, it was embarrassment. Jesus, we've all been there, done or said something to look dumb or make a mistake and once we get caught or called out sometimes it can be easier just to play the victim a bit. Or is that just me?! It's not right, but it happens. And it doesn't make Aquaria a bad person, it just makes her a bit immature.

The Vixen does an incredible job of pointing out the facts here with a level of fourth wall breaking that would put Deadpool to shame as she highlights the fact that to the viewer she will be painted as the "angry black woman". I'm not even going to pretend I can relate to that, I'm whiter than Casper the ghost, but there are some Drag "fans" out there who spew some of the most vile and racist shit you can imagine. It's something I can't wrap my head around to be honest and I don't think the scumbags who do that are actual fans.

From what I can see, the black community has been historically ground breaking in terms of Drag. The very show they are watching was created by a black Drag Queen. It is one of the most diverse shows that there is on TV.

But the fact is most, if not all, of the Black Queens who have been on Drag Race get horrid, racially driven abuse and it is disgusting. It's as if they like the white girls who try to act like black girls but not the actual black girls.

So to see The Vixen put it out there plainly as she did was a champion moment for her. And even her response when Aquaria mentioned that she understood, and I believe she did, was simply to tell her to act like it. That was brilliant. She didn't go after her, she didn't row with her she simply asked her to prove herself by her actions, not just her words.

I mean, clearly this was back then and I imagine we will see growth from Aquaria in this sense but in the larger scheme of things and the social media culture around Drag Race I think The Vixen has done an incredible job of speaking up and fighting for something that I believe she really came to the competition to fight against. The Vixen could prove to be one of the more important contestants to come on this show in terms of calling out the bullshit behaviour that happens online and I am here for it.

And while the race issue is one that does not deserve to be diluted, I think her points even go beyond race. This ability to say whatever to someone and not to be prepared for an argument back is 140 character behaviour. To play the victim, to pull the "bullied" card is done so readily at times and I am so happy to see an intelligent and strong person who is ready and able to reach through the screen and confront the keyboard warrior.

And on with the show...

With my thoughts on The Vixen out there I'll move on!

The Pharmarusical episode featured Andy Cohen who I am not here for ever since that moment where he insulted Trixie while she was RIGHT THERE but he showed up anyway for the mini challenge and for that weird cameo during the performance.

I thought Monique Heart got it a bit rough during critiques because I thought she was pretty good during her performance but then what do I know? Really love her though, a stunnah in drag and seems so lovely and sweet, I hope her momentum starts to take off. She was hilarious during the Ep3 mini challenge as well, I cannot wait to see what she's got planned for Snatch Game!!

I'm keeping an eye on Blair as well, I get the feeling this could be that Queen that does a Dela/Jinx in Snatch Game should she make it that far.

Cracker continues to shine for me, I don't know what it is there is just something about how she carries herself or her delivery or something that is so endearing. She puts the C in C.U.N.T.

I don't think Cracker has had a chance to peak yet but I feel like she's on a steady rise.

Asia is another one that I just love, her sense of humour seems so great and I said it in my first post and I'll say it again as a Queen, beautiful, as a boy gorgeous. As soon as she blew up her fringe during that runway I was sold, it was beyond cute it was fucking extra. Yes the gag of her face was funny during during the App challenge but I felt like the runway really won that for her and I was so happy to see her with a win. I'd love to see Asia go all the way.

This isn't even a review anymore, it's not linear at all but I need to interject and just throw Mayhem Miller's lip sync in here right now because WOW! I knew she'd be an incredible lip syncer and I was proven right.

This also leads me to wishing we saw more of a genre mix with LSFYL songs because there is something so badass seeing ladies who rock celebrated on that stage and I think that grungy rock music makes for a really exciting battle. Don't get me wrong, I adore me some pop and I live for soul and disco but my heart beats to a good drum and bass line so I do hope we see a bit more rock tunes added to the mix.

I mean Aja doing Alanis Morisette Ironic is flipping awesome! YouTube that shit.

Mayhem landing in the bottom this early on is probably exactly what she needed and a chance to see her perform was welcomed.

Eureka was fucking annoying as hell episode 2, Asia has the patience of a saint! I enjoyed Eureka during her stint on S09 but so far on 10 she's not doing anything to win me over and feels kind of out of place to me.

Monet was great during the Ep3 mini challenge, as an Irish girl I just loved her weird Irish thing that just came out of nowhere but when she did the "Erin go brea" singing I was in stitches, way to not just attempt some Paddy whackery SNL nonsense and just be funny and irreverent with it girl.

Also these fucking sponges turning up in every episode is getting ridiculous and I hope it never ends, I hope they don't even point them out they just keep using them like Monique during Untucked.

Poor Yuhua sashayed away Ep3 after a brutal challenge performance and too much air guitar. And by too much I mean any. I really liked her but I feel like she gets that the hard work starts after the show so I think we will get more from her.

Kalorie of course went Ep2, again a sweet queen but I don't think she was going to bring much more to this competition, the standard is so strong this year. She's a beautiful queen though.

I covered alot around Aquaria and The Vixen above but I will say that Aquaria has the potential to turn shit around for herself and I think she has the ability too. If she can accept her mistakes and learn from them she will do well, she's not afraid to act a fool in challenges and her runway is great.

I am afraid The Vixen might falter on challenges particularly when it boils down to acting or comedy in comparison to some of the others, I just get that vibe from her but she was funny in the Ep2 and 3 performances so hopefully I'm wrong because I really like her at the moment.

Dusty Ray Bottoms and Kameron Michaels are 2 I always forget until last. Which is weird because I don't dislike them, I thought both performed great on Ep2 and Dusty on Ep3. I adored Kamerons runway, someone on Reddit made a Final Fantasy VIII connection and I fucking loved it even more, I don't care if she never even heard of the game in terms of costume I lived for it.

Dusty's story of how he was treated when his parents found out he was gay was heart breaking. It's hard to imagine anyone getting treated like that just because of their sexuality, it would be amazing to see that situation get resolved for him but i think he's obviously done an incredible job of not letting it hamper his own life.

Unfortunately, Dusty on the runway Ep3 was a let down for me and i think she needs to win over the judges big time because should she land in the bottom, I don't think she'll stay.

Am i missing anyone? I don't think so.

Oh wait, I am. Alyssa Edwards was the choreographer on Ep2 and all I can say is the producers better find every opportunity they can to get her back, back, back again.

To finish up, despite some piss poor challenges this season really is all about the Queens. If you follow the show, make sure you get behind them on social media and all the rest. And leave all that bullshit racism and threats to the side, it's ugly and pathetic.

Looking forward to Ep4 which is the End of the World Ball. Love that they are getting another design challenge so soon!!

#drag race #rupaulsdragraceseason10 #rupaul #rupaul's drag race #the vixen #aquaria #mizcracker #monet x change #monique heart #drag #drag queen

[gravitascivics]

ELUDING EMPATHY

The last few postings have attempted to contextualize the polarization plaguing the nation’s political arena.  Through the citation of various evidentiary information, they attribute this division among Americans to the inability to address various incubating problems and issues.  This posting looks at an underlying cause for this inability.

Now, not all readers will agree with what follows, but this posting makes a case that the all-encompassing factor – the root cause of incubation – is identity politics.  According to Ezra Klein:

… everyone engaged in American politics is engaged in identity politics. This is not insult, and it’s not controversial:  we form and fold identities constantly, naturally.  Identity is present in politics in the way gravity, evolution, or cognition is present in politics; that is to say, it is omnipresent in politics, because it is omnipresent in us … It runs so deep in our psyches, is activated so easily by even weak cues and distant threats, that it is impossible to speak seriously about how we engage with one another without discussing how our identities shape that engagement.[1]

Is this true?

         When one starts talking about what is natural, one cannot solely depend on the social sciences in general or political science specifically to provide sufficient grounding for any such claim.  And surely, the reportage of a journalist (with all due respect to Mr. Klein) does not make the case either.  So, perhaps the ideas of an American neuro-endocrinologist, Robert M. Sapolsky,[2] can be of sufficient gravitas in this field to help convince a sceptic.  

But before sharing his thoughts, can one assume that a social arrangement, be it a church congregation, a labor union, a governmental jurisdiction, a corporation, etc., counts on some minimal ability for the participants of the arrangement to feel empathy among themselves?  Afterall, scarcity is part of the human condition – not to mention a condition of all organic life – that leads to inevitable conflicts.

To weather social conflicts, one main factor that allows for solution or compromise seems to be, at some level, the ability of those involved to feel what the other parties feel in relation to the conflict at hand.  And if so, that begs a question:  What causes humans to feel empathy for others?  

A lot is involved, but one important factor is whether the other party to a conflict or any interaction – be it a person or group – has some sense of being an “us” as opposed to being a “them.”  If that’s true, to what degree does that feeling need to be felt?  Well, ostensibly that would be to the degree one can ascribe the idea of mutuality.  And that sense of mutuality has to be strong enough to motivate the person to do the work necessary to engender empathy.

Sapolsky explains the mind’s machinations, both biologically and cognitively, and it turns out that empathy does not come without effort, it takes work to engender it.  Yes, empathy, under the right conditions, seems to come naturally, but only if certain factors are met.  To understand this, one is helped by placing oneself in incidences where empathy is expected – such as in situations of injustice.

Here's one.  As one can guess, actual observation of deprivation or exploitation of a victim more easily solicits empathy.  Say that one sees a person’s life being snuffed out by a policeman putting his knee on that person’s throat, as opposed to when one hears of the same incident without the assistance of a video.  The former is less work than the latter in engendering empathy and even more work is demanded if one hears some abstract diatribe about how minorities are mistreated by those in authority.  

As one goes from one exposure to the other, as just described, the work becomes harder and, therefore, less likely to be exerted.  A lack of direct experience, Sapolsky reports, acts to diminish one’s ability to be empathetic or the likelihood of it taking place.  And along these lines, he claims,

It is an enormous cognitive task for humans to overcome that, to reach an empathetic state for someone who is different, unappealing … That is straight out of Us versus Them … showing how extreme out-group members, such as the homeless or addicts, are processed differently in the frontal cortex than other people … [The] tragedy of the commons versus tragedy of the commonsense morality, where acting morally toward an Us is automatic, while doing so for the Them takes work.[3]

Or, for example, to quote this natural scientist use of nonscientific language, when it comes to empathizing with the plight of the disadvantaged, the rich “suck.”  

Why?  Because the experiences of the disadvantaged to these well-off people is foreign unless they themselves come from deprived backgrounds. His description of these rich people, in general, is even more self-centered and selfish than this quote indicates, but the reader gets the idea.  In general, the more one sees victims as Them, one is more apt to believe the worse of them – they are lazy or dishonest or conniving – and that justifies any unempathetic bias the non-associated feels.  

And when one can avoid seeing the individual – as when one hears but does not see the above described incidence of homicide – one can categorize the account as the homicide happening to a group, not a person. That also adds to one attributing the incident not happening to a person in one’s own identity group.  

Often, one hears this being a problem of cognition when the solution would be education.  At other times, the problem is attributed to feelings, such as one is lacking “brotherly love.”  And this leads to a false dichotomy between emotions and cognitions.  Sapolsky claims it is a shortcoming of both making the challenge of encouraging empathy more difficult.

A bleak picture, for sure, but Sapolsky offers some hope.  Yes, one can easily see from the above that humans are doomed to a tribalistic social disposition if they cannot be sufficiently empathetic.  Left to people’s own natural tendencies and allegiances empathy is limited to those who are immediately around as one grows up. Social arrangements under such thinking and feelings will not expand and that limits a group to few resources and stifles economic, cultural, and intellectual enrichment.  

So, where is the hope?

Spelled out this way, these findings don’t seem to bode well for humans.  We have evolved to support our immediate social groups, a tendency that can be easily manipulated into discriminatory behavior, especially at younger ages.  The good news, according to Sapolsky, is that there are always individuals who resist the temptation to discriminate and won’t conform to harmful acts based on othering or hierarchy.

         … [Sapolsky] offers suggestions for how we might subvert social tendencies to conform and [instead] aim our behavior towards better social ends.  For example, his advice to counter xenophobia includes “emphasizing individuation and shared attributes, perspective taking, more benign dichotomies, learning hierarchical differences, and bringing people together on equal terms with shared goals.[4]

And given this overall concern – that social arrangements depend on good doses of proactive instruction – this message needs to be taught and encouraged for the sake of a common good.  In addition, the common good is essential not only for progress, but for maintaining what has been accomplished both socially and individually.

         But what one can read between the above lines is: these tendencies can serve those who want to exploit the social/political landscape for their own ends.  And its utilization, that of exploiting people’s proclivities to limit their concerns to their own identity, either by using direct language or code language, can prove to be effective.  

One notion that seems to be prevalent among those who do not appreciate the challenge these natural tendencies pose is the belief that one needs to be taught prejudices.  This is true, but not true.  The above indicates a natural predisposition to hold the Them with at least suspicion if not out and out hostility.  The teaching comes into play when it sharpens the targets of such disdain.  

To counter this bias, one needs proactive instructional efforts aimed at revealing to students

·       what is natural – the proclivity to divide the world between the Us and the Them;

·       the inefficiency that such biases accrue; and

·       the experiences of being exposed to as many Them as is possible in as many settings as is possible.

In short, what one needs to be taught is how to battle these divisive tendencies.  

The Ogbunu quote above hints at the direction such lessons should take.  This blog’s argument holds that in terms of civics instruction, federation theory directly addresses the aims that quote identifies and its postings have, to varying degrees, attempted to share information  that helps teachers help civics students acquire the information that would lead to healthy levels of empathy.

         One more point: Klein adds to his concern over this dysfunctionality by pointing out that by “wielding” a bias toward identity politics, people cover up many problems.  They attribute problems to Them people, not to those individuals or to an Us. Police mistreatment?  That happens to blacks.  Exploitive labor conditions?  That happens to immigrants from south of the border or the under educated. Poverty?  That happens to the lazy.  This proclivity ignores the details of how Those people are being mistreated much less defining Them as really being Us.  

As such, the tendency “forces” an array of factors under that cover so that one is removed from what is at stake for those on the other side of some contentious, festering problem.  It assists the general factors feeding the incubation that have led the nation to the polarization currently being manifested.  But then what happens, a video appears on TV, and a multitude of viewers see for the first time what is really happening to an individual.  And guess what?  Empathy among many ensues.

[1] Ezra Klein, Why We’re Polarized (New York, NY:  Avid Reader Press), xx.

[2] Robert M. Sapolsky, Behave:  The Biology of Humans at Our Best and Worst (New York, NY:  Penguin Press, 2017).

[3] Ibid., 532. 

[4] C. Brandon Ogbunu, “Why Do People Do Bad Things?,” Greater Good Magazine, December 1, 2017, accessed March 14, 2019, https://greatergood.berkeley.edu/article/item/why_do_people_do_bad_things .  Emphasis added, AND see Anna Rita Manca, “Social Cohesion,” Encyclopedia of Quality of Life and Well-Being Research, 2014, accessed July 24, 2020, https://link.springer.com/referenceworkentry/10.1007%2F978-94-007-0753-5_2739 .

#empathy #social empathy #Ezra Klein #Robert M. Sapolsky #C. Brandon Ogbunu #civics education #social studies

[undothedamage-blog]

Dear Parents

Hi. How ya doing? Being a parent is weird and hard and rewarding, right? That’s been my experience anyhow. Most of us are trying to do the best we can. There’s a lot expected of us. There’s a lot of pressure in raising a tiny human without fucking up. And I hate to add to your growing list of duties and concerns and necessary steps in raising a happy, healthy person but there’s something really important you need to do.

Teach your children what abuse looks like.

Now, the hardest part about doing that is actually going to be learning yourself what abuse looks like.

“I know what abuse is!” you say.

Sorry. You probably don’t. Statistically speaking, I’m more likely addressing somebody on the other side of the screen that hasn’t been properly educated on the realities of abuse. We’re fed a lot of myths about abuse. You don’t have to be ashamed because society failed to teach you right. It’s not your fault, but it is your responsibility to correct that error now.

I would suggest you sit down with a copy of Why Does He Do That? (my favorite book so far on the topic written by one of the world’s foremost experts). I know, I know. You’re busy. You’re stretched thin. You probably already lack time to read for pleasure as much as you did before you have kids and now some rando on the internet is assigning you fucking homework? But trust me, it’s worth it.

After that, teach your kids. Teach them what abuse looks like. Teach your sons especially what constitutes abuse and that there is no excuse to justify it and that they alone are responsible for their actions.

How?

There’s lots of ways (and a lot depends on their age). But here’s a list of suggestions:

Don’t ever force your children to hug or kiss someone if they don’t want to, not even Grandma, not even YOU. This teaches them bodily autonomy and that not even loved ones are entitled to violate their boundaries.

Make comments or ask questions about media you consume together to get them to think critically about the ideas presented to them. This might mean saying “hmmm, I wonder why there are so few girls in this movie.” or asking “How do you think [character a] felt when [character b] wouldn’t take no for an answer?” This can be a hard step because you’ll need to train yourself to spot problematic content in the first place. And I’m not saying you can’t watch anything problematic (you might as well give up TV altogether). Just challenge your kids to think about what they see. i.e. If you’re watching Batman the Animated Series you could say “I really don’t like the way Joker treats Harley Quinn. Do you think she deserves that?”

Acquire (whether by purchasing or borrowing from a library) positive representation of women and relationships for your children including (and perhaps especially) your sons. The publishing and media industries only market girl-centric stories to female audiences which contributes to boys growing up learning that stories and the world revolve around them. They also tend to only push media that deals with interpersonal relations and emotions on girls, leaving boys with action and violence heavy stories. This can send the message that empathy and emotional labor is for girls.

Talk to them, especially older kids and teenagers, particularly when they reach dating age. Invite them to ask questions and talk about their opinions about abuse to get them engaged in the conversation rather than simply lecturing. Take advantage of a captive audience (riding in the car for example) and teach them little bits here and there on a regular basis.

Respect your children and allow them reasonable control over their own lives. I’m not saying you should let your kid decide, “nah, I hate shots. I’m skipping my vaccinations.” But you should definitely give them the power of choice as often as you can. Maybe that means letting them dropping soccer for theatre or picking between two options for dinner’s side veggie. The important thing is they are raised in an environment that doesn’t predispose them to accepting total control from someone else.

Model healthy relationship dynamics in your own romantic relationship if you have one. This is especially important for dads. Even if you’re not abusive, you may engage in behavior that is based on the same underlying attitudes and entitlement that fuels abuse because society has taught you that it’s all right. It’s on YOU and you alone to recognize and fix that. 

Set hard and fast rules in your home regarding respect of women. Don’t allow your kids, especially your sons, to use misogynist language (shut down anything that labels women as inherently crazy or inferior, don’t condone the use of words like bitch or cunt, etc.). And no matter how awkward you feel, make sure you talk to them about the unrealistic and misogynist aspects of most pornography (when age appropriate).

Learn and utilize appropriate parenting tools especially regarding punishment vs. consequence, assertive vs. authoritarian parenting, and similar issues to avoid falling into abusive parenting patterns. How To Talk So Kids Will Listen and Listen So Kids Will Talk, Siblings Without Rivalry, Unconditional Parenting, and many other wonderful books will help you raise emotionally healthy kids with strong self esteem. Remember, there is no shame in seeking education to learn to how parent. It’s a skill like any other and nobody is born knowing how to do it right. But the old joke about wishing there was a parenting manual handed out when you have a baby? It’s only half true. There’s plenty of quality manuals (and unfortunately some shit ones too, so watch out). But you have to go get them yourself.

Insist the men and boys in your household participate equally in housework. To do otherwise reinforces the idea that men are entitled to have women take care of even their most basics needs (like a clean home or clean laundry or food to eat). Teaching your daughters to do an oil change and use a power drill is wonderful and great and you should do that too. But it’s arguably even more important to make sure you teach your sons not only how to clean, cook, manage a budget, do the grocery shopping, care for babies, etc. but that is expected of them just as much as it is of any woman.

Insist upon comprehensive sex ed programs that cover topics of consent, bodily autonomy, respect, and partner abuse. If your local schools don’t provide them, check for community offerings (the O.W.L. program offered at many Unitarian Churches is one such program and don’t worry, it’s secular). If there’s nothing available, take it into your own hands. Talk to your kids about this stuff and provide them appropriate books and resources on the topic.

Do your best. You won’t be perfect. No parent ever is. But if you try and if you never give up, you’ll more than likely succeed in raising kids that not only aren’t abusive, but that will not be drawn into an abusive relationship.

That said...

If you have teen or adult children you may very well face a situation in which they have either been abused, or accused of abusing someone else. What do you do then? Well, that first book I mentioned (Why Does He Do That?) lays out in detail exactly what family members should and shouldn’t do in these situations. But I’ll give you a quick and dirty summary:

If your child is facing abuse:

Believe them. And don’t blame them.

Don’t pressure them. Don’t pressure them to give their abuser another chance NOR should you pressure them to leave their abuser.

Listen to their needs and offer your support.

Give them the respect that their abuser won’t.

Get yourself support so that you can vent your sorrows and concerns to somebody else instead of burdening the abuse victim with comforting you.

When possible, and only if the victim agrees, offer practical support (such as paying for her to go to therapy, driving her to appointments, etc.).

If you child has been accused of abuse:

Believe the victim. Chances are they are telling the truth. When your child makes excuses for their behavior or tries to downplay it, press them on it for details and to describe what they think is their partner’s point of view on the matter. This will often reveal that they are exaggerating and/or lying and that they have not been honestly listening to or empathizing with their partner. Then make sure to talk to the victim and get her side of the story.

Do not make excuses for your child. Do not ask the victim to forgive them or give them another chance. Make it clear to your child that you will not participate in talk in which their victim is blamed or dehumanized or otherwise insulted.

Make it clear that you expect your child to get into a reputable abuser program (Lundy Bancroft describes what to look for to make sure it’s a good program in his book). Do not tell them to go to therapy or couple’s therapy. Only a program designed to address abuse will do any good and even then, only if the abuser chooses to do the long, hard work of changing. Conventional therapy can often make the situation even worse.

And in either case, avoid provoking the abuser. Chances are the abuser will take it out on their victim in private rather than risk damage to their reputation with you by lashing out at you.

#parenting #talking about abuse #raising kids #teaching kids about abuse #preventing abuse #lundy bancroft #why does he do that #helping abuse victims #teaching consent #sexism

[foursprouthappiness-blog]

5 Disturbing Ways Narcissists Use Social Media To Terrorize Their Victims

New Post has been published on http://foursprout.com/happiness/5-disturbing-ways-narcissists-use-social-media-to-terrorize-their-victims/

5 Disturbing Ways Narcissists Use Social Media To Terrorize Their Victims

God & Man

Social media has been blamed for breeding narcissists, but the fact of the matter is, narcissists have always existed. Social media has just given them an extra tool to terrorize people. Here are five ways malignant narcissists – those without empathy and with an excessive sense of entitlement – use social media to exploit, manipulate and destroy their victims:

1. To triangulate.

Social media is a veritable playground for malignant narcissists. It gives them easy access to multiple victims and the ability to manufacture love triangles in covert, insidious ways. In order to understand how and exactly why narcissists use these platforms for such petty power plays, it’s essential that we remember that they tend to be insatiable in their attention-seeking and their desire to create harems of people who adore them. They will, of course, deny that they are doing this – and it’s easy to convince anyone who is suspicious of their behavior that such a focus on their online behavior is “crazy.”

For example, observe what a self-confessed gaslighter told BBC news when asked about the role his gaslighting played in covering his tracks on social media:

“Paula was extremely intelligent, but I was aware that I was leaving traces of infidelity in the digital world, on social media,” says Greg. He said he made jokes over a period of time pointing to her ‘obsession’ with social media, making her feel that she was suspicious in an unhealthy, even ‘crazy’ way. “I deliberately used demeaning language to make her lose confidence in her reading of the situation, of my infidelity. She was ‘paranoid’, she was ‘crazy’, she was ‘full of drama’. I’d say this all as jokes. But they would build over time, and she then started to believe.”

– Megha Mohan, Cheating and manipulation: Confessions of a gaslighter

Now, it’s certainly possible for someone lower on the spectrum of toxicity to aggravate their partners with their lack of discretion and loyalty without meaning to; sometimes garden-variety jerks or cheaters are not even fully cognizant they could be caught. However, true, full-fledged narcissists create love triangles deliberately in order to provoke their significant others. They enjoy seeing their reactions to their despicable behavior. They trespass the boundaries of their relationships frequently and with malice, with the intention of skirting accountability and with callous disregard for the feelings of their victims.

Narcissistic partners can flirt with numerous people by sending them messages on Facebook, inappropriately commenting on their photos with sexual or obscene messages for all to see, ‘following’ a number of shady accounts, as well as posting photos of themselves with exes, crushes, and people with whom they’re having affairs, all under the guise of them being ‘friends.’ Should their victims ever call them out on their strange behavior, the narcissist will then gaslight the victim into thinking he or she is going crazy.

2. To infiltrate.

Imagine that narcissists are like trained spies in the figurative Trojan horses that are social media accounts. They want to know anything and everything about you, so that they can later use your wounds against you. Having access to your social media accounts can give them an easy way to find out more about your likes, interests, hobbies, and desires. Remember, it’s possible for even a complete stranger to find out your life story should they do the due diligence of looking through your photos, your tagged posts, even your ‘About Me’ section. These investigative digs are crucial for the narcissist’s love-bombing stage, where they are first pursuing you with ardent fervor and need to unearth your vulnerabilities to do so.

It is also valuable for the devaluation stage, as it allows them to assess whether you’d be a viable target for their pity ploys and mind games. Solution? Don’t give them much access in the first place. Be selective about who you allow into your online spaces and make your privacy a top priority. It’s a good rule to have regarding anyone, regardless of whether or not they’re toxic, because it allows intimacy to unfold naturally at its own pace. By doing this, you communicate an important boundary to those around you: trust has to be built organically and cannot be earned blindly.

“Manipulative love bombers don’t just walk up and say: ‘We belong together.’ They have to give you evidence that it’s true. That’s why they target the vulnerable. Masquerading as ‘good listeners,’ the bomber gathers intel on your likes, dislikes, insecurities, hopes, and dreams. Before you know it, they’re saying you have so much in common, therefore you must be soul mates.”- Dale Archer, M.D., Why Love-Bombing In A Relationship Is So Devious

3. To stalk and harass you.

We all know that narcissistic ex-partners don’t leave us alone, even after the ending of a relationship. Even if you block them, they can make fake social media accounts to ‘check up’ on your whereabouts. They can create anonymous e-mails to send you daily or monthly taunts. They can even troll you on your work-related platforms if you have a public presence. This is all a way to make you feel unsafe. It’s a way to cast micro-assaults on your agency online. To feel as if someone is always “watching,” and monopolizing your existence, whether in real life or online, can be terrifyingly brutal. It creates a sense of violation that is unfortunately rarely prosecuted in realm of the law.

It’s important to protect your privacy; ensure that no information you would want the narcissist to know is available for public view. Block any and all accounts associated with your narcissistic abuser, including those of your mutual friends (who can also be asked to spy on you by the narcissist). Document all incidents of cyberbullying and trolling. Research the cyberbullying laws in your state. Ask for the support of people you trust to intervene on your behalf, if necessary and appropriate to the situation (for example, hire a moderator for your online platforms if you have a pesky narcissist that keeps coming back). The only way out from the scrutiny of their watchful eye is through diligent self-protection.

4. To self-aggrandize.

Impression management is vital to a narcissist. Researchers Gnambs and Appel (2017) confirmed in a recent study that grandiose narcissists (those with an inherent belief in their own superiority) are more likely to be found glorifying themselves on social media as opposed to more vulnerable narcissists with lower self-esteem.

“The meta-analysis of the 57 studies did in fact confirm the scientists’ assumptions. Grandiose narcissists are encountered more frequently in social networks than vulnerable narcissists. Moreover, a link has been found between the number of friends a person has and how many photos they upload and the prevalence of traits associated with narcissism.” – University of Würzburg, Narcissism and Social Networking

This comes, of course, to no surprise to those of us who have encountered grandiose narcissists online. Building a persona from scratch takes a great deal of work, but narcissists enjoy the fruits of their labor when they are able to use social media to disguise their true nature under a charitable mask and to build fan clubs that enable their toxic behavior.

Yet for a malignant narcissist, this behavior goes beyond self-absorbed selfies; it ventures onto a complete lack of self-awareness and empathy for others. Not everyone with numerous photos and thousands of friends will meet the criteria for full-fledged narcissism nor should these be the sole indicators of narcissism. Rather, it’s the level of grandiosity, contempt and entitlement that reveals who is on the narcissistic spectrum. Remember that a malignant narcissist uses social media not just as a hunting ground but as a platform for which to practice his or her grandiosity and assumed superiority. Engaging in lengthy monologues from their pulpit, their proposed morals bear little to no resemblance to their actual motives.

Grandiose narcissists exist to extol themselves while bullying others. They are the instigators of manipulative arguments on forums, the ones who carry out multiple counts of character assassination in place of a valid perspective. They include the seemingly philanthropic activists and leaders who try to attack the competition rather than focusing on the value of their own message. They are the vain, superficial models and somatic bodybuilders who create an audience mainly to cater to their presence.

They can come in many different shapes and sizes, but what they all share is an excessive sense of entitlement with little to no regard for the rights or needs of others. When the self-aggrandizing narcissist speaks, he or she demands you listen. They demand that they be accommodated to your spaces; they feel entitled to your time and your resources. They can fly into narcissistic rage if they don’t get the attention or the results they desire.

5. To bully and taunt.

Research reveals that online trolls possess the Dark Tetrad traits of narcissism, psychopathy and Machiavellianism. In other words, online narcissists take sadistic pleasure in provoking others. So it’s no wonder that many narcissists in cyberspace are the types who hand out death and rape threats as easily as they would party invites. Misogynistic trolls are an example of how malignant narcissism manifests in digital spaces; they are cruel, they are callous and they are violent in their threats and insults.

“Trolls will lie, exaggerate, and offend to get a response. What kind of person would do this? Some Canadian researchers decided to find out. They conducted two online studies with over 1,200 people, giving personality tests to each subject along with a survey about their Internet commenting behavior. They were looking for evidence that linked trolling with the “Dark Tetrad” of personality traits: narcissism, Machiavellianism, psychopathy, and sadism. They found that Dark Tetrad scores were highest among people who said trolling was their favorite Internet activity.” – Dr. Jennifer Golbeck, Internet Trolls Are Narcissists, Psychopaths and Sadists

Whether they’re harassing former exes or bullying complete strangers, empathy-deficient individuals are dangerous to the psyche of their victims. Online or offline, malignant narcissists leave a trail of ‘bodies’ wherever they go, leaving society and their future victims to pick up the pieces.

#Happiness