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a-la-la-llama · 4 years

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Officially a twenty-one-year-old today, Damian was being dragged out to a run-down bar by the many annoyances that he was forced to call brothers. “Baby bird’s finally able to have a drink legally! It feels like yesterday when you threatened to stab me.”, he clapped his hand on Damian’s shoulder who immediately shrugged it off, with a far off look Dick sighed. “He did threaten to stab you yesterday.”, Tim corrected. “Tt, not my fault he decided a happy birthday was needed at midnight.” Damian crossed his arms as the group walked in. Jason had frequented the place enough to know the bartenders, who were now giving him crap because of the last time he came and started a bar fight. “Come on Larry, it’s Demon Spawn’s birthday! You can’t kick me out yet?”, trying to persuade the bartender into serving him, Jason threw an arm over Damian’s shoulder. “The infamous Demon Spawn is old enough to join the big boys, eh?”, the bartender asked, cleaning a mug before filling it up with a yellow substance. “Would you believe me if I said I was brought here against my will?”, staring at Larry with a deadpan expression he was handed a cup of beer. “First one’s on the house. It’s gonna taste bad but you’ll get used to it after a couple of rounds.” As if Damian hadn’t tasted alcohol before, it wasn’t hard to go to the middle of Jason’s stashes and fill them with water. After the second bottle of vodka, he was usually too drunk to even notice the difference. Taking a gulp, Damian could hear the cheers from Dick as Tim poured a suspicious amount of whiskey into his coffee mug.

Damian couldn’t be more content that he could now drink, or he would have already been annoyed at how loud and noisy the place was. Or the fact that a group of men were desperately trying to convince a group of girls to join them on the dance floor that was severely crowded and failing pitifully by not taking the hints. Don’t even get him started on those who were on the edge of blacking out and were making a fool of themselves on the dance floor. Tim and Dick had been the first to catch a buzz, one being a light-weight and the other having terrible health choices. Jason had grabbed the two on a mission to see what crazy plans he could pull while they were under the influence. This had not been Damian’s plan, he was spending his birthday sitting alone on a barstool when he would much rather be at home with his beloved fur family members than the human ones. But, he soon found himself on his own personal mission.

She had caught his eye first. He was scanning the crowd trying to locate his brothers in an attempt to convince them it was time to head home. Damian had to do a double-take when he saw her midnight sky hair in the faint yellow glow of the bar. She sat directly across the room from him on a tall table with her head down in what seemed to be a book. He didn’t register how long he had been staring but was pulled back to reality when a drink was placed on the counter. “She’s your age. Real sweet and has been coming here alone for the past two months.” It was none other than Larry the bartender that gave him an all-knowing smile that eerily reminded him of Alfred’s. “Tt. This is going to Drake’s tab, correct?”, jeering his head to the drink. Larry shook his head at the topic change, “I’m just saying you should go talk to her, that’s all.” Damian grumbled, he was an Al Ghul and Wayne, he would never succumb to the embarrassment of pinning after a girl in a bar like some others did around him. Then again, she didn’t have to know that, did she? He doubted he would ever see her again, what harm could come out of it? Damian, no last name, mused about the next following steps he would take.

She felt the presence of a pair of eyes on her. Keeping her head low she hoped the lack of interest in the setting was enough to throw them off. It was a common occurrence actually, what did she expect to happen coming into a place like this by herself. But this felt different somehow, the aura coming with the gaze made her distracted. She fiddled with Plagg’s ring, located on her right hand’s pointing finger, spinning it around. She adorned the leather as it was much more suited for the dark city of Gotham than her spots. The night vision was an added bonus that came in handy when traveling around at night and the sassy talks she had with Plagg. She had felt the eyes travel off her for a moment before they were right back on her. Now she couldn’t even focus enough to remember what she was just about to write. Frustrated, she tapped her foot impatiently on the chairs stepping stool. That she hated to admit she used to get up and her foot barely reached it. To her wit's end, she snapped her head up only to meet the most beautiful emerald green eyes she had ever seen. With newfound inspiration, she drowned herself back into her book.

Damian hadn’t expected her to snap her head up so quickly as she did, nor did he expect her to stare right at him when she did. Though, he couldn’t have been happier that she did, especially taking into account the lovely pair of doe eyes he was able to stare into at the moment. Her eyes were similar to a clear sky’s baby blue color but not as dull. It was almost like they had a certain electrifying touch to them because they seemed to glow in the dimly lit area. As if on the verge of catching fire at any given moment, holding a world of secrets and passions that he desperately wanted to uncover. Her eyes left him as quickly as they came leaving a void in his vision. The strange girl that captivated all of his attention in a blink of an eye without even knowing it, dove her head back down. He gave himself a sly grin.

Step One: Catch her Eye. Check

“I’d like-“, before he can even turn and ask Larry he already pulled two drinks out of nowhere and they were resting on the counter. “Good luck! Don’t make me regret this.”, lectured Larry. Mustering up his courage, Damian took a drink in each hand before making his way across the bar. Thankfully, his brothers were nowhere in sight and couldn’t possibly ruin this for him, yet that is. He set the drinks down with two little clinks, drawing her attention from her book to him. “Mind if I sit here with you?”, implored Damian gesturing to the open stool next to her. “I assume you brought me offerings to bargain with?” Damian almost short-circuited with how cute her voice sounded. “O-of course!” He mentally cursed himself at the small stutter but covered it up by handing her a drink. Damian noticed how one cup held a pink bendy straw and gave that one to her. She didn’t take a drink until she got a nod from Larry behind the bar. It wasn’t the first and certainly wouldn’t be the last time someone offered a drugged drink, but Larry always kept an eye out for her and said it was safe. “I’m Damian.” She nodded, “Marinette.” He felt a smile creep onto his face,” Nice to meet you, Marinette.” The name gracefully rolled off his tongue.

Step Two: Catch her name. Check.

Once out of his stupor he realized she had once again returned into the book. Peering over her shoulder (out of curiosity not to get closer to her, never!) , he noticed it was filled with intricate drawings with French notes written in the margins. “Isn’t that French?”, he questioned, “Are you not from Gotham.” She scribbled something down before looking up and answering. “It is and nope! I lived in Paris all my life until four years ago.” He pondered for a moment, “Any reason why?” The girl squirmed in her seat, ‘Dammit Damian! Now you made her uncomfortable, she hates you!’ She twirled her ring a couple of times, “I needed a change of pace and couldn't take living there anymore. So I packed up and left.” Damian could tell it wasn’t something she shared with most people and wondered what made him different. Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, he relished in the fact he was able to catch some of her secrets though it wasn’t what he was after at the moment. Taking another glance at what she was doing he realized that she was drawing in a sketchbook that seemed to be filled with countless articles of clothing. “Is this a hobby of yours?”, he asked pointing at a model sketch. She looked up at him and seemed to beam, “I’m an up and coming fashion designer! I come here every day to find inspiration! You won’t believe how many different styles you can see here!” Damian had found what caused the spark in her eyes and listened to her ramble about it happily.

Step Three: Start a Flame. Check!

She excitedly explained all the little details in her most recent designs and provided reasons and meanings behind each one. He hadn’t meant to read the margin notes of the dark green peacoat that was drawn with intricate gold embroidery. “Is this one from me?”, he questioned with a sly grin and side glance. Damian noticed how the color of her cheeks and the tips of her ears, that were now exposed as she tucked her hair behind them, turned a dark pink compared to her pale skin. The contrast helped him realize how her face was dotted with freckles that resembled constellations in his mind. A smile crept upon his face again, “I had already drawn the jacket but couldn’t decide on a color scheme. When I looked at you earlier, I concluded that you had really pretty eyes.”, she admitted mumbling the last sentence. Marinette was tense now and caused Damian to be determined to lighten the mood. “You know what they call a jacket on fire, right?” The random question threw her off as she furrowed her eyebrows together before raising one. “A blazer.” Nonchalantly as possible, he grabbed his drink and took a swig as the joke settled in. He admitted it wasn’t the best but was still rewarded greatly. A smile graced her lips before she burst into a fit of giggles, hiding her blush behind her hand. He was left catching his breath at the sweet sound of her laughs tinkled like bells in his ears. Completing his final step.

Step Four: Catch a Smile. Check!

Damian had not expected to get this far based on his track record. No matter how much the press gossiped about his looks and mysterious charm, he was never good at the social and relationship points in life. Damian would admit that the main problem was his inability to adjust to the variety of people’s personalities. Yet, this small slip of a girl who was an incarnation of pure sunshine made it feel so easy. His usually cold, harsh, and stoic demeanor vanished once in her presence. Damian felt like an entirely different person but found himself liking the new one better. His mind raced a million miles a minute on what else he could possibly do as they continued to talk. ‘Would it be weird if he tried to hold her hand? Maybe he could get a dance with her? What was a good way to catch her number? It’s dark he should definitely offer to walk her home. Getting a date didn’t sound bad either.’

Oh.

Oh no.

Damian realized the girl sitting next to him was already five steps ahead of him on her own mission. She had already caught all of his feelings and his heart in the hour they spent together. He knew she knew it too as she gave him a pleased smirk. Damian Al Ghul Wayne had his heart stolen from him right under his nose.

And he had no intention of taking it back. Next!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Aged up Daminette that I wrote about at 12 am....Enjoy?

#maribat #daminette #maridami #marinette x damian #damian x marinette #Aged Up Daminette

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yaypinecones · 4 years

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Here are fan made fetch moduses. They’re not mine but it gave ideas what they would look like and write my own descriptions. Feel free to use them as you wish :)

Camera Modus: It can take pictures on one focused object to 35-50 cm away on the fetch modus card camera (top right). After taking a picture, it would create a clone of the object on your captchalogue inventory. It can be a great practice to take pictures, just don’t take pictures of yourself.

Settings:

Instagram mode- It doesn’t really do anything special except put any radon filter in your fetch modus over what it displays. It’s dumb, but hey it gives you a ton of likes. likes actually don’t exist in your modus or an app for it.

Snapchat mode- I’m not sure why you would need filters to captchlogue an item. If you use this one, I definitely recommend the dog or flower crown filter.

VSCO mode- It’s more about the aesthetics to be honest. Not for those who dresses up in long over sized shirts with a bunch of poofy hair ties and purposely drop their water bottles to make weird noises

Limit: can take 10 film inventories, more than that can eject the last inventory. The object you want to captchalogue has to be on the cameras focuse or else the picture would look blurry and would not clone the item.

Book Modus: A simple modus that comes with a actual book. When you captchlogue an item, it would gives you their description and their captch code. It would also receive a page inside the book as it could give more its abilities, uses, history, common location, and combinations with other items. Pretty useful and it’s possible to captchalogue the book itself. You don’t wanna carry it around all day.

Settings:

Academic mode- Yup all that math, science, language arts, health, and history you’ve read for school is coming back to you. What sucks is these books are the books you’ve read before when you were younger...so they’re probably out dated. Which sucks.

Encyclopedia mode- AKA Wikipedia, Dictionary, or Thesaurus if you want to call that. Basically find what word you want and look through the entire book to find what it means or what’s similar to it. I doubt you want find the amounted of pages it has because it never ends. Sometimes too much words can lead you the short end of the stick or just completely lost.

Journal mode- A thought of someone their own writing to collect their ideas and observations. You can make your own journal if you want. Like writing down what your doing or your grocery list. Actually just write what it feels like to you.

Magazine mode- Now we’re on the good stuff. Good stuff as in gossip and trends. What? At least there’s something to entertain yourself than looking through those stressful words every single to time. You just need to relax and read the latest celebrity gossip. OooOo.

Newspaper mode- Wait how can there be a newspaper in a book? Well at it lets you know what happening daily in other places or locally. Contains huge headlines, unnecessary words, really big photos, and a lot of advertisements.

Limit: There’s no storage limit on this fetch modus but it’s recommended to have 12 items. Unless if you want to have a bunch of words thrown into you to the point it becomes a encyclopedia. Also item eject? What’s that? Uh oh.

Money Modus: This lets you store any item but you have to access the item by inserting a specific amount of money. It is very different in every item. Isn’t it a mix of an ATMs and a shop? I don’t know, but at least they are in a reasonable price. This is not meant for cheap scapes. Sometimes the capchalogue item is has the similar price to real life price list. [Ex. A real life a fridge cost $1,000-2,000]

Settings:

Currency change mode- Your not sure why people need a specific currency. This setting is so stupid, it makes you wonder who needs this?

Bank mode- Yes you heard it right, you can store money in this fetch modus. It’s great for people that has no where else to store their money. This can be your own personal piggy bank.

Limit: This has unlimited storage. The bigger and expensive the item, the more expensive the price you need to access the item. The more you store items, you need to spend a lot of your money. No, you cannot argue the card to lower the price ya silly goose.

Mask Modus: A modus where you wear many persona’s. The mask are in variety in colors that represents a certain character. You can also type a certain personality on your own personas. To capchalogue an item, you have to match a certain persona that matches or similar to the item.

Limit: The maximum storage contains 16 items. Over 16 items would refuse the recent item unless you remove an item or combine one of them. If successful, the item would be capchalogue and freely gain access with wearing a mask. If your didn’t match a right mask or was unsuccessful, the modus card would eject the last item you capchalogued at you.

Binary Modus: You can summon any item by converting the letters into binary coding. This modus must be navigated manually and you can also search for item numbered too.

[Ex. 01001001 01000011 01010101 01010000] Wait a second...Eww man.

Limit: Unlimited storage unit and when summoning an item, it has to be a real thing. Sorry but no bear-cat-rabbit-elephant thing or completely made up words would appear. Especially, you can’t summon huge items like a building or the sun. That can just break your modus. Please limit yourself there buddy.

Dominoes Modus: No, sadly you can’t order pizza. When you capchalogue an item, many dominoes from the card spill out and you have to assemble each and every domino to the other.

Limit: there are 6 inventories you can capchalogue. Nothing more, nothing less. More than 6 would eject the last item.

Dartboard Modus: You can freely capchalogue an item, but retrieving an item can summon a dartboard. You need to throw a dart at one of the rings or bullseyes. The less important items are on the large farther rings and the more important ones art in the smaller rings and bullseyes,

Limit: you can store 82 items. Now that’s a lot but you need to have good aim. Hitting the center of the bullseye can randomly give you an important item for the future.

Prey Modus: When an item is capchalogued, it would spawn a small animal. These animals would depend on what the item is. if the user wants to get the get the item back, they will have to fight and kill whatever creature the item has been allocated to. once the creature is dead, the item appears

[Ex. a computer mouse would spawn a weak mouse (ayy)]

Limit: You can only store 8 slots and over more than 8 can have an animal come out depending on the item. Hopefully you don’t eject any important items. Anything important would release an animal that is not a prey or maybe a replica of the first guardian.

Shuffle Modus: Every time you capchalogue an item, it changes every second with other items you also capchalogued. It can be lucky or unlucky depending how your going to draw this.

Limit: It can hold as much as any items. The more you add items, the more frustrating it gets to retrieve the item you want.

Backpack Modus: This modus can store items by the cards weight which is also a backpack. You can simply open the backpack to retrieve and item. You can capchalogued the backpack itself, but I don’t think your fetch modus can handle the weight you put into there.

Limit: Feel free to store the amount of junk you can carry as it can weigh you down. It acts like a normal backpack. What else should I say?

“Stack” Modus: Haha no, it’s a Massive Ejection Modus you fool. It may look like a normal stack modus but can intensity eject massive amounts of items at once that are multiplied by 100. Once you want to retrieve it, 99 copies eject violently from the captchacard and explode out of your card. Its mostly going to destroy mostly anything and injuring anyone near you.

Limit: Basically you only have one slot inventory and that’s sad. Is this modus even legal!?!? Ejecting 99 items at someone can be potentially be a strife specibus. Just saying.

Wardrobe Modus: This modus can capchalogued any articles of clothing. Attempting to captchalouge something other than clothing will result in said item being sent somewhere you can no longer receive. This is pretty useless like the other mentioned modus we talked about.

Settings:

Hat mode- A place where your hats can live in harmony with other simpleton hats.

Earrings mode- Fancy, expensive, or cheap earrings can come join.

Glasses mode- Look at you nerd. Or cool kid. Whatever you are.

Shirt mode- Look, there are many things you can put on there. The most likely to be over flowed.

Pants mode- Or skirts, shorts, or anything that goes on your legs

Socks mode- A hell place where all sinful gross smelly socks and clean socks go.

Shoes mode- Just don’t put those dirty shoes on the wood. Keep them clean and dry.

Limit: you have unlimited storage and only meant for clothes. This is perfect for people that don’t know where else to put their seasonal clothes to. Summer, fall, winter, spring, you name it.

#homestuck #hiveswap #fanadventure #fetch modus #capchalogue #fantroll #roleplay #theyre not mine #ideas

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media-on-the-mind101 · 3 years

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Turtles All the Way Down: OCD and Generalized Anxiety Disorder (Book)

* May contain spoilers*

I recently finished reading Turtles All the Way Down by John Green, and it is now one of my favorite novels. The story hit me close to home because it deals with a disorder that I was diagnosed with. I thought writing an article about it would be a good way to educate you readers, while also sharing a little bit about myself.

Turtles All the Way Down is story about a teenage girl named Aza Holmes who suffers from OCD or Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. The story shows how the disorder impacts her daily life as well as her relationships. Because the author suffers from the disorder in real life, the depiction is fairly accurate. However, I spotted a few things that might suggest a whole different diagnosis whatsoever. The story also covers Aza’s treatment which I felt was missing a lot of important things.

According to the DSM 5 (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) Obsessive Compulsive Disorder is a disorder where a person gets caught in a cycle of obsessions and compulsions. Obsessions are intrusive thoughts that trigger distressing feelings, while compulsions are repetitive behaviors that are performed to relieve anxiety or prevent something bad from happening. OCD is often confused with OCPD (Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder) which is characterized by extreme perfectionism, order, and neatness. OCPD is often portrayed as OCD in the media which means that stereotypical OCD is really OCPD.

While Aza does have obsessions that involve cleaning, they are more about health and less about being organized. People with OCD often have a specific thing they worry about, and for Aza it is contracting an infection from a parasite called C-diff which essentially causes food poisoning and stomach damage. While she doesn’t really do anything to neutralize or cancel her thoughts out, she repeatedly reads articles online and uses hand sanitizer to relieve her anxiety.

As you may already have figured out, people with OCD often have illogical thought patterns and they are fully aware of it. But their anxiety makes them perform their compulsion anyway “just to make sure.” This is seen in the book when Aza drinks a bottle of hand sanitizer to insure that all bad bacteria inside her body are cured. Of course we all know, that drinking hand sanitizer would actually be more harmful then helpful.

“Drinking hand sanitizer is not going to make you healthier, you crazy fuck. But they can talk to your brain. THEY can tell your brain what to think, and you can’t. So, who’s running the show? Stop it, please (pg. 210).

In this scene, Aza knows that drinking hand sanitizer is actually more harmful then helpful, but she feels as if something is controlling her brain. The “they” refers to her OCD and she tells it to stop but isn’t able to control it.

While reading the book, I noticed that some of Aza’s symptoms don’t quite fit the diagnosis of OCD, such as her feeling of not knowing if she is awake or dreaming, real or non-existent. In one chapter she says the following:

“the pressing of my thumbnail against my fingertip had started off as a way of convincing myself that I was real . . . every time I thought maybe I wasn’t real, I would dig my nail into my fingertip, and I would feel the pain, and for a second I’d think, Of course I’m real” (pg.106).

The feeling of disconnect she has from her own body and surroundings are actually symptoms of DDD (Depersonalization - Derealization Disorder). According to the DSM, the disorder is characterized by persistent feelings of being a stranger to yourself or your surroundings. According to Psychology Today, however, you have to have no signs of other mental illness that can explain your symptoms, in order to be diagnosed with DDD. This is when diagnosing a patient becomes challenging; so many disorders can have similar symptoms or be co-morbid with each other that it they can difficult to differentiate.

The other symptom I noticed that is actually its own disorder, is the fact that Aza has a habit of digging her nail into her fingertip to the point where her finger becomes scarred. While picking of the skin is often comorbid with OCD, it is actually a separate disorder called excoriation disorder or dermatillomania. According to mhanational.org, this disorder is characterized by picking of the skin that creates skin lesions and that causes disruption in everyday life. It is true that the disorder falls under the category of obsessive compulsive disorders in the DSM, but excoriation disorder is not the same as OCD.

Now we’ve defined what OCD is, but another important part of how the book portrays it is in the treatment. According to Mayoclinic.com, the most common treatments for OCD include CBT (Cognitive Behavioral Therapy), exposure therapy, and medications such as SSRIs (Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors). These are the treatments that I had during my childhood, and they have been statistically proven to be very effective.

In the book Aza sees a therapist and takes medication, but she doesn’t get exposure therapy, one of the main treatments for OCD. Aza mainly gets CBT which is essentially talk therapy, but she is not forced to face her obsessions without performing her compulsions. An example of this would be touching a dirty substance and then forcing herself not to take out her phone or use hand sanitizer.

The last important thing is how OCD effects a peoples relationships. Throughout the story, the characters in Aza’s life talk about how hard she is to deal with. One scene toward the end really emphasizes the importance of this issue. In this scene, Aza and her best friend Daisy get into an argument because Daisy feels that Aza is too self-centered.

She says “and you’re so, like, pathologically uncurious that you don’t even know what you don’t know.” And later she adds “I don’t mean that you’re a bad friend or anything. But you’re slightly tortured, and the way you’re tortured is sometimes also painful for, like, everyone around you”(pg. 216).

Daisy is frustrated because she feels like Aza is so caught up in her own thoughts that she never shows any interest in the lives of others. When she says Aza is “tortured” and it makes it painful for everyone around her, this shows just how much her illness impacts her relationships with other people. Basically, people find her difficult to be around because they, in a sense, have to experience everything with her and they begin to lose patience. At the end of this scene, the two girls get into a car accident because they weren’t paying attention to the road.

Aza’s other important relationship in the story is with is Davis, who is like a friend with benefits. The reason he never becomes Aza’s boyfriend is because of her social anxiety and fear of contamination that prevents her from being physically close to people.

“I enjoyed being with him more in this nonphysical space, but I also felt the need to board up the windows of myself. Me: I feel kinda precarious in general, and I can’t really date you. Or date anyone. I’m sorry but I can’t. I like you, but I can’t date you” (pg. 162).

I this scene, Aza reveals that she communicates better online then in person and this suggests that she has some form of social anxiety.

Another scene tells us just how much her fear of germs effects her life: “billions of people kiss and don’t die just make sure his microbes aren’t going to permanently colonize you come on please stop this . . . then you’ll get C. diff and boom dead in four days please fucking stop just kiss him JUST CHECK TO MAKE SURE. I pulled away” (pg. 152).

In this scene, Aza has difficulty being physically intimate with Davis because her fear of germs prevents from enjoying it like most people would. Based on this fact, we could predict that Aza will have difficulty in her future relationships because of her mental illness and this is a great example of how it effects people in real life.

As I mentioned in the beginning of this article, the author John Green himself suffers from OCD. Compared to his own experiences, the book is pretty similar. Like the main character, Green suffers from obsessions about contamination. In an episode of the Vlogbrothers Youtube channel, Green explains that

“I might worry out of nowhere that my food is contaminated or somehow poisoned and then somehow suddenly that will be the only thought I'm able to think . . . I can lose all control over my thoughts for an extended period of time to the extent that I can't follow what's happening in a TV show or read a book.” (Green).

*John Green, author of Turtles All the Way Down*

So like Aza, he worries about contamination to the point where he can’t focus on anything else. He also has the same kinds of thought spirals :

“the compulsive behaviors I use to cope with these obsessive thought spirals, repeatedly checking my food for contamination, for instance, or spending hours Googling what will happen to me if I eat moldy bread.” (Green).

As you can see, the characters compulsion of checking in internet comes straight from the author’s real life experience. According to the New York Times, John Green developed the disorder at around seven years old and eventually got it under control with the right medication and CBT. It was not said weather or not he underwent exposure therapy. So the treatment that Aza receives is based on the way some treatments work in real life.

While reading Turtles All the Way Down I often found myself feeling nostalgic because my own experience with OCD is very similar. Although I do not have an obsession with a specific thing like Aza does, I have the same types of intrusive thoughts. I also have similar compulsions to seek reassurance from the internet or other people about my health, as well as other compulsions to neutralize, or cancel out my thoughts.

Because I had Tourette Syndrome (a neurological disorder that causes physical impulses) as a child, I developed what is called Tourettic OCD. It is pretty much exactly what it sounds like; Tourette Syndrome and OCD combined. The reason this occurs in some individuals is because the ability to filter out and thoughts and the impulse to move, take place in the same brain area, the basal ganglia. As a result of this, my compulsions tend to be more physical, such as moving my eyes excessively whenever I see negative words in a book, or someone getting sick in a movie.

Like Aza, I went through CBT but I also went through several years of exposure therapy and I take an SSRI in conjunction. I think exposure therapy is a very important part of the treatment of disorders such as OCD and PTSD and I was disappointed that the book did not include it. I think that if you are going to educate a person about disorder, then you have to educate them about the treatment as well. In conclusion, Turtles All the Way Down was a great novel that captured OCD more accurately then any movie I have seen. The fact that the author has the disorder makes it all the more realistic and personal, and I have to say as a person with OCD and a psychology major, I was quite pleased with the way the character was portrayed. The story may have been missing a few important elements but overall it provided a realistic way of educating people about the disorder.

#john green #turtles all the way down #ocd #mental health #mental illness #books and literature #psychology

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chaos-of-the-abyss · 4 years

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Honestly, I live for seeing idols openly expressing their negative feelings like frustration and offense, and Heechul was recently open about his anger towards a reporter.

On a recent episode of the show called 7.7 Million Love which he hosts, Heechul talked about Sulli and Hara, and opened up a little about how furious it made him to see malicious commenters who made hateful comments about both of them now pointing fingers at other people, creating an Internet gender war (with men blaming women for “shaming” Sulli and Hara, women blaming men for making sexually harassing comments toward Sulli and Hara), and starting drama instead of reflecting on their actions. He also expressed his anger at the commenters for declaring they’d commemorate Sulli and Hara after they’d been so hateful toward them.

Later, a reporter made a post about what Heechul said. You can read it if you want, although it’s rather lengthy and translating all of it would be tedious.

In summary, the reporter criticized Heechul’s words, saying that it was a misjudgement on his part for blaming both sides of this ‘conflict of gender’. He acknowledged that although the malicious commenters, male or female, were in the wrong, it’s still incorrect to use that as a basis to say that both men and women are to blame for Sulli and Hara’s passing. The reporter also stated that Heechul’s analysis of the issue wasn’t correct in that it legitimized the conflicts of gender that he (Heechul) believes in solely based on malicious comments. While stating this, the reporter said that Heechul’s song, “Charm of Life”, an SM Station song in which he collaborated with Shindong, Eunhyuk, and Solar of Mamamoo, made it clear that Heechul believed in an issue of gender conflicts.

And Heechul actually responded to this reporter’s post, angry at him for using Sulli and Hara’s names to raise an issue and trying to cause controversy.

(Source)

Translation:

“Ahjusshi. Is it really all that important if a malicious commenter is a ‘male or female’? Regardless of gender, if you commit a crime you’re a criminal. Also, my song, ‘Charm of Life’ was criticizing the people who spread rumors and wrote malicious comments about me; where does it look like I was criticizing feminists? In addition, I, and the people who were close to them (Sulli and Hara) are unable to carelessly bring up their names because we’re still in mourning.. so what are you to use the deceased to write this excuse of an article? I was going to just read it and let it go.. but you really are doing all kinds of shit to become famous.. And lastly, don’t use the deceased as weapons in your petty fights.”

I’m pretty sure Heechul will get shit for this comment, because idols get shit for every single human thing that they do. But I’m still glad to see him expressing how he feels and not bottling it up. On a less personal level, it also makes me really satisfied to see an idol being so open about his anger towards another person, because it’s high time that people start seeing them as human beings with feelings, too.

#kim heechul #heechul #super junior #7.7 billion in love #kpop

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nekoabiwrites · 5 years

Text

Lies

Welcome to my self-indulgence and problematic side! You’re very welcome to not read this if you don’t want it, as it contains some pretty heavy shit.

Loosely based off of the lyrics to Lies by McFly and off of my own feelings and thoughts. None is based off of real events tho. Just wanted to get that out.

I also do want to add that the way Virgil thinks in this fic is very unhealthy and not okay. I wanted to say that I am aware of that. He still does it tho.

AU: Human Pairing: None Words: 791 Warnings: Alcohol, Car Crash, Unsafe Driving, Death, Suicide (both implied and descriptive), Unhealthy Thought Processes, Villainous Deceit, Implied Abusive Deceit, Unhappy Ending. Anything else, please let me know.

Summary: Virgil’s sat drinking, thinking about events that happened recently... only for him to ‘take the plunge’.

---

It was weird to think he wasn’t going to see him ever again.

Virgil thought about it for the umpteenth time as he took a deep swing from the bottle in his hand, looking out over the water.

Only a few days ago, he’d heard the news.

His long-time bully had crashed his car. He’d been driving like a moron, as usual. No seatbelt. He’d decided to check his phone for some reason. He’d missed the stop sign. Anyone could have put the pieces together as to what would have then happened.

The pictures in the articles were horrific. The half of his face that had landed on the pavement was utterly destroyed.

Virgil shuddered at the thought and took another drink, draining the last of the contents from the bottle.

He’d made several accusatory comments to all sorts of things, avoiding blaming himself at all. That turned Virgil’s stomach every time he thought about it.

“He never stopped…” Virgil muttered under his breath, tossing the now empty bottle between his hands as he thought about all of this still.

He’d always been a bare-faced liar. He’d done despicable things to people and then blamed it on something completely different. No one could ever prove it, but everyone knew he was lying. One day, something happened, and Virgil was next in the firing line, becoming the main target.

Every lie led back to him. Virgil got all the blame from him. It made Virgil feel sick. All of that, all the targeted harassment and bullshit he endured. It all came from the fact that Virgil was done with his shit and ended their rel- friendship.

There was that part of him that’d hoped it’d all go away once they graduated from school and grew up, but that was merely a far-off dream. At least… until a few days ago.

Virgil had used the rage, frustration and all other negative feelings as his driving force for years now. He’d gotten into his dream job, simply to rub it in his face. He’d found a fantastic group of friends who actually cared for him, all because he’d gone out to meet people to spite him. All the good things in Virgil’s life were because he’d gone out of his way to find something to “prove something” to him.

But that wasn’t there anymore. He couldn’t see what Virgil was doing anymore.

The evidence was too much. There was no way he could get out of this, no lie he could tell that would work in his favour. So, he’d taken the coward’s way out. And Virgil had heard about this from his friend only days ago.

Since then, Virgil felt like he’d been walking through soup. Sure, a part of his was laughing maniacally at the fact that he’d outlasted him, the fact that Virgil was getting the last laugh, in a way. And boy, would he gloat if he could. But something was missing now.

Virgil’s purpose was gone. Sure, he had his great job and his friends. But, he had nothing pushing him forward anymore. Nothing to really work for.

It’d been stupid for him to base his entire world around that asshole, but it was just how it had been. Virgil had been counting on the fact that he’d be able to turn up at his gravestone years down the line and smirk, giving some sort of witty remark before hobbling back home to do whatever retired people do all day.

But, that wasn’t going to be what happened.

Virgil uncapped another bottle, realising it was the last one he’d brought with him. With a heavy sigh, he started to drink it. He wasn’t about to down it in one go, he wasn’t that desperate. He simply drank at he normally would.

Virgil thought about all of his life – his co-workers, his friends, his family. He did care for them all immensely, but something just… wasn’t there anymore. He knew this wasn’t the best idea. But it was his only idea now.

Nothing else would be worth it if he didn’t.

Once the final drops has slipped into his mouth, Virgil put down the now empty bottle. He looked out at the dark sky reflected in the water, a sense of calm filling him. He’d made up his mind the same day he’d heard the news.

Not even a final thought crossed his mind as Virgil pushed his body off of the bridge and he fell to the rushing water below. Despite his body’s natural instincts, he didn’t attempt to save himself. His consciousness slowly slipped away, the hazy moonlight upon the water’s surface above fading as it did so.

One last thought passed by.

‘I got the last laugh.’

---

My other stuff: http://nekoabi.tumblr.com/myworks Mobile Accessible Masterlist: http://nekoabi.tumblr.com/post/181954641376/fic-masterlist

General Tag List: @not-so-innocent-bi-sander @didsomeonesayprince @llamaly @justanotherpurplebutterfly @iaminmultiplefandoms @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @lowkeyvirgilobsessed @louisthewarlock @fangsandrainbows @xxladystarlightxx @sleepyssnail @ao-koshka @notalwaysthevillian @pumpkinminette @doces-e--tuga @coloursintheblur @safesandersides

#Sanders Sides #Fanfiction #Virgil Sanders #Deceit Sanders #Anxiety Sanders #ts deceit #Human AU #Lies #Suicide #Alcohol #Dangerous Driving #Car Crash #Please do head the warnings #and let me know if there's anything else to mention above #i guess this is... a vent piece?

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nhlhoser · 5 years

Text

Sad Boy Hour- Auston Matthews

I started this out of the blue and actually worked on it for hours and I need at least someone to read it.

UNEDITED!!!!!

Mild mental health warning

‘The bigger they are, the harder they fall’ is correct in more than one aspect of life.

For Auston Matthews, it comes in the form of an injury that sits him for too many games for the second straight season. He was starting to think that his rookie year might have been a fluke to make it through all 82 games.

It sucked being left in Toronto again as the guys all geared up and played some games without him - winning to put the cherry on top. The fact that his teaming winning leaves him sour does make him feel even worse because he knows he should be supportive even though he isn’t playing. Its probably best case scenario that they continue to win even after their prized centre is sidelined due to injury.

He had to get over it, he knew it too but he was going to allow himself this one last night to let himself wallow in his own self-pity by going to a quiet upscale bar that he frequents during his downtime to relax.

A place where no one really knows much about hockey let alone who Auston Matthews was or was going through especially.

Auston was just a guy that had questionable fashion sense and gives off the vibe off not really knowing what to do with his money. That really draws the girls in when they see him, getting out of his expensive car looking just as expensive.

He can admit he likes the attention of all people, not just the females, as he knows his muscle are very evident through the tight jeans and Gucci t-shirt he threw on before leaving his place earlier. A light bomber jacket because it does get cold fast in Canada.

The young valet is, as usual, is distracted by his pretty souped-up car and its gadgets to actually care about him as he strolls into the slightly dimmed light establishment that is void of any type of hockey playing on screens because it’s just not that kind of place.

He takes his regular spot at the bar that is kinda off to the corner and hidden adding to his already mysterious vide he gives of permanently if you don’t know just how of a goof he is. He waits for the bartender to finish with the other patrons before waving for her.

Now, unfortunately, Auston has been feeling bad about himself long enough that he is familiar with most of the bartenders here but he is not familiar with this one. She turns to him and is instantly gleaming and for a second he thinks that maybe she might know who is his and his cover is blown but he shakes that thought away quickly.

“What can I get you?” Her smile never breaking as her eyes sparkle.

“uhm...Corona?” It took him a lot longer to answer than he’d like to admit. She quirks a brow at his hesitation before giggling slightly. “Please,” He added bashfully. He could already feel his cheeks start to heat ever so slightly.

“Can I just see you ID?” even though her mouth stopped smiling in favor of a smirk her eyes still held the smile. When her words actually registered in his head though, he had to stop him from groaning as he reached to into his back pocket to retrieve his wallet.

Once his ID is in her hands, her face gets serious as she inspects his ID for his age and any indications that it might be a fake. Her eyes danced between his face and his ID a couple of times before she slid it across the counter and leaned closer.

“It's not because I thought you looked underaged but my manager is watching me like a hawk recently,” She smile and spoke low as her body language despite leaning into his space just looked like she was giving his order extra attention- not that he minded.

“So, no free beer?” He tried adding a flirty tone to it.

She didn’t exactly laugh in his face but it was close as she leaned back with a bit of a snort laugh.

“We’ll see, Auston,” She smirked as she got his beer and carried on with her job,

Again Auston was left with thoughts, which seemed to one of the main problems he’s been having. Thinking over articles where they have dubbed him officially injury prone and questioned his value to the Leafs if this was going to keep and frankly he was starting to agree.

Only his third season in and he’s on the IR for the 3rd time. It was frustrating and his relationships with the people around him were starting to show the effects of his frustration. He his patience was running much thinner than it has ever, he snapped at people he cared about and he regretted almost all of what he would say recently.

In short, his mental health was taking a bigger hit then shoulder ever did.

Coach and Dubias have been toying with the idea of taking him on the California swing but they weren’t 100% on it and Auston doesn’t think he's even supposed to know yet but one of his fav PT guys overhead and told him. He probably thought it would cheer him up but Auston would rather not of known because if he doesn’t end up going it won’t feel as bad.

“If you don’t like it I can change it you know?” Blinking at the bottle of un touch beer in front of him, Auston realizing that he has been sitting here practically glaring at the bottle as he got lost in his thoughts.

Heat rising in his cheeks, he shakes his head before taking a swig of the alcoholic beverage that already alleviated some stress. “Just a lot on the brain. I don’t even think I remember setting it down in front of me,” He admits quite sheepishly.

“Well, I’m still new to this but I’ve heard that bartenders make great makeshift therapists?” SHe sounded quite unsure. “Would it happen to do with the shoulder injury you seem to be nursing right now?” Her eyes drifted across his shoulders- his broad shoulders.

Auston didn’t miss the other places her eyes drift to, like his arm covered in tattoos but of course muscle but he felt like the one that was caught? Doing what? Being sad?

His natural response to emotion is to shrug as he did but of course he winces. Confirming her speculation.

“Nah, I’m good. Just stressed out right now,” He lifted his beer to his lips with his good arms and had a bit of flex to his bicep and watch her face to testing the little hope that he has that she might be into him too.

When pink rose on her cheeks as her eyes watched arm, this time she was the caught one.

“I didn’t seem to catch your name?” He smirked leaning closer over the bar - avoiding putting pressure on his bad shoulder. The blush was still there when her eyes met his and she knew she was caught checking him out. Unfaltering though, her lips morphed into a sly smirk and her eyes had a glint that was heated.

“I didn’t throw it,” She pulled off the bar with a wink and walked towards a new customer that sat on the other end of the bar. Leaving Auston just short of gawking at her retreating form.

Even when he thought he had the upper hand, he didn’t.

He spends more of his night, watching the other people in the bar. All varying degrees of intoxicated. There was a group of 4 men in polish suites clearing coming work, all sat in a booth having a good time all looking more light-hearted in the face then their attire would show.

A couple of girls tried their hand on getting his attention but he was more interested in the brown hair beauty working behind the counter who greeted everyone with the same large smile. The way she interacted with people was refreshing because she was still smiling when people walked away or when she was cleaning the mess of the counter.

It was genuine and he was hooked.

It took a just over an hour of sipping for Auston to finish his beer and he didn’t really plan on getting another because he still had to drive home and be responsible. He didn’t really come here for the alcohol but rather the animosity.

Scanning the crowd that is starting to build as the night gets later, Auston tried to spot the bartender from before but is disappointed to make eye contacted with a different bartender than his first one. This one comes quickly, laying on the fake smile that doesn’t meet her eyes like his - the first girl. He pays for his drink and starts to get up.

“Dawn,” A familiar voice shocked him as he turns to see ‘Dawn’/the girl from before standing in front of him. Stopping him from leaving, clearing changed into her street clothes and ready to leave for the night.

“Are you done?” He asked dumbly blinking at her.

“Yes,” She released a breathy laugh that he only wanted to hear more of. “Wanna get out of here?”

“Yes,” He answers may be a little bit too fast but he was game.

“Perfect! How does ice cream sounds?”

Definitely not in his diet plan is how it sounds but “Perfect,”

“Great, you drive and I’ll direct you,” She grasps his hand and leads them out into the nights chill for one of the best nights Auston has had in a long time.

#auston matthews #auston matthews imagine

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coldtomyflash · 6 years

Note

Coldwestallen, Barry and Iris rescuing Len from being stood up by a blind date (That Lisa never set up, cause she's trying to help her brother score the two heroes he's fallen for)

Y’know anon, I never did get around to filling this prompt for you, and I absolutely do still love it. I’ve been coveting it for a while, knowing I want to fill it but also wishing I had the time and energy to do it justice. But I’ve just read like 7 short coldwestallen fics and realized that it’s basically my main OTP/OT3 now and I need like… way more of it. So I think it’s finally time to take a stab at this.

Thanks for your patience in getting here :) Also, while my first plan was going to be fluff, this got… a lot more charged than intended, so uh, I hope you end up liking it anyway?

Five minutes late, Len could accept. He didn’t appreciate it, but he understood that most people didn’t take time as literal as he did. He’d been four minutes early, so it was going on nine sitting here alone. At least he had a book.

Ten minutes late… he started to drum his fingers against the table in frustration. He gave in and ordered a beer, tired of waiting on his date. He’d been thinking about getting some fancy cocktail to suit the nicer appeal of the restaurant, but if his date ever showed up he could get wine with dinner if he wanted to present some semblance of class.

Fifteen minutes late and still no text or call, nineteen minutes sitting there reading and trying to stop peering impatiently at the door. It rankled. The waitress had been by to check on him twice already, knowing he was waiting for someone. He debated paying up and leaving versus just ordering food and accepting the pitying look, maybe charming the waitress instead. He could put on that mask for the evening, nurse his own hurt ego by convincing someone else to fall in his bed.

Screw it, he could lick his wounds somewhere more his speed.

He was twenty three minutes in and signalling the waitress to come over and give him the cheque for his beer when he saw them. He hoped - no. They saw him. Or Miss West did at least, eyes going wide for a moment before tugging on Barry’s arm where he was talking to the host at the front of the house. Len tried to keep the scowl off his face as Barry followed Iris’s gaze and blinked owlishly at him.

Len arched an eyebrow, lifting his book back up. There was no way he was leaving now but that didn’t mean he had to -

Why were they coming over?

“Snart,” Barry stopped next to his table, hands casually in his pockets. Len put down the book.

“Barry. Iris,” he tilted his head to acknowledge them. They were dressed nice, Iris looking beautiful as ever in a dress that cut low. He made sure not to stare. “Let me guess - date night?”

“What’re you doing here?”

He arched an eyebrow up at Barry and his genuinely perplexed expression. He pitched his voice toward droll, “getting stood up for a blind date, of course.”

Barry’s expression flipped to uncertain then quick to a casual laugh, taking the bait. “Right, casing the place then.” Except he didn’t walk away content in his own conclusions then. Instead, he slipped into the booth opposite from Len. So did Iris, after hesitating for a moment.

“Babe - our reservation?”

“Yes Barry, your reservation. I’d hate to ruin date night.”

“I’m sure you would. What’re you planning to steal here anyway?” Barry actually glanced around as if Len might be planning to steal the light fixtures or something.

“Does it matter?” Len drawled, subtly placing the book on the seat next to him, out of sight. It was a blind date and she was supposed to identify him by the book. If she showed up this late, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to meet her anyway, and definitely didn’t want her potential appearance to tip Barry and Iris off to the fact that he actually was on a blind date and being stood up. Not when the couple in front of him were already guaranteed to be better company, if completely off limits.

“Welcome. Can I get you folks some drinks?” The waitress appeared before Barry could answer. She was smiling wide at Len and he mentally willed her not to say anything about how the rest of his party had ‘finally’ shown up.

Iris looked at Barry, eyebrows raised.

“Old fashioned?” the other man said and Iris, after giving him a slightly disbelieving look, turned to the waitress with a smile that was only slightly strained.

“Dark and stormy.”

“Classy,” Len said, sipping his own beer in defiance.

“Like you said, it’s date night.” Iris turned her too-sharp smile on both of them and Barry hesitated a little, clearly picking up (finally) on the fact that his date didn’t necessarily want to be spending their evening babysitting Captain Cold.

“Right. Should we…?”

“Oh do stay,” Len almost bit his tongue after the words came out, trying to pull back the impulse but they were already out. “Who knows what wicked things I’ll get up to otherwise?”

“It’s fine,” Iris laid a hand on Barry’s arm, giving it a squeeze. “Let’s stay.”

Len blinked, wondering exactly what she was playing at. Barry seemed reassured though and leaned forward, clasping his hands in front of him, attention on Len. “Really though - what were you after?”

“Figure it out.”

Iris looked between them and sighed, “okay, if we’re doing this, why don’t we start over, boys. Leonard - how nice to see you. It’s been since Christmas. Read any more of my articles recently?”

He almost snorted. Iris had barbs in that smile and he was a little impressed. She was keeping him off his game, but he could still answer in kind. “Your take on the surveillance state in the era of ARGUS oversight? Big fan.”

“I bet you were.”

Their drinks came and they looked hastily at a menu. Len tried to smother his surprise at the fact that they were actually ordering, and then again at just how much Barry ordered. He put on a charming smile for the waitress and ordered himself a glass of wine for his meal. Iris suggested getting a bottle. Len wasn’t about to argue.

“Save the world recently?” Len asked, finishing his beer. Barry barked out a laugh and even Iris looked entertained.

“Not this week. Bagged a meta, but eh,” Barry shrugged a little, clearly a bit pleased with himself. His limbs got looser when he was pleased with himself.

“What about you?” Iris asked. “Keeping out of trouble?”

“Hardly,” he grinned back at her, a little too much charm in it, a little too lascivious but Barry didn’t look perturbed by Len flirting with his girl so maybe he didn’t pick up on it.

Iris did though, her eyes twinkling ever so slightly. “I can only imagine.”

He tilted his head. Was she flirting back?

Barry coughed slightly. “So uh, what were you reading?”

He arched his eye at the book, not lifting it from the seat, just in case. “Kafka on the Shore.”

Iris’s eyebrows shot up. “You like Murakami?”

“I read,” he agreed with a tilt of his head.

“Have you read any of his others?”

“Pinball 1973. I heard Colorless was going to be bleak so I haven’t got there yet.”

“It’s rough but so good. It might be my favorite.”

“I’ll take it under advisement.”

Their wine came, interrupting them and Len sat back, offered the first taste, enjoying it. He realized this was starting to feel like this was an actual intended dinner, two gorgeous dates sitting opposite him. It was a shame they were each other’s date and not his.

“Good choice in wine,” Barry’s eyebrows were raised, clearly appreciating the north coast dryness. Len smiled graciously.

“It pays to know about varietals and regions - never know who you might have to con and how high class they’ll be.”

Instead of scowling, Barry laughed into his wine. “Can’t just accept the compliment?”

“When have I ever made anything easy on you?”

“I’ll drink to that.”

It was Len’s turn to chuckle, the three of them clinking glasses. He relaxed into his seat, the conversation continuing, back on to books and literature then wine and other eclectic pieces of knowledge he’d gained for cons, on to some of Barry’s more specialized knowledge with Iris peppering in one or two anecdotes about Barry in his younger days that had Len genuinely laughing.

It was relaxed enough, smoothed over by cocktails and wine and food, that he almost started at the soft pressure of a foot against his calf. He swallowed the bite of steak, washing it down with wine, wondering what the hell Iris was up to. The foot was just grazing his calf, trailing down now. There was no way it was a mistake.

“And then Barry got the bright idea make a blog post with this grainy photo of ‘Big Foot’ and let me tell you: my dad? Had no idea what Barry was up to until he posted that. Would not have figured it out whatsoever–”

Her toes tickled the skin of his ankle, riding up his pant leg just a bit before retreating, smoothing back up.

Barry groaned into his hands, “he was so pissed when he figured it out. How was I supposed to know he followed my impossible blog?”

Her foot tapped his knee and he arched an eyebrow at her. She arched one back, sipping her wine innocently, waiting.

“How else was he ever supposed to know what you were up to, Barr?”

Len cleared his throat a little, shifting to open his legs in his seat, sitting slightly lower in the booth. He focused his attention on Barry. “You sound like you were a handful as a teenager. How many times was it that you ran away?”

“Let’s… not count. But in my defense, I wasn’t running away. I was just… going on trips.”

Len snorted, and thanked whatever deity was watching out for him that it covered the intake of breath when Iris’s foot pressed up along his thigh. Fuck, whatever this was, she was going to be the death of him. Maybe literally if Barry was the dangerous jealous type. Was that her kink? Getting her man riled up?

“All done?” The waitress interrupted. Iris didn’t let up with her foot and Len made sure he was leaning forward so nothing was visible.

“Thanks.”

She picked up their plates, having already grabbed all the ones Barry had emptied. “Dessert?”

“Please,” Iris said before Len could turn it down and the waitress left to get a menu. Her toes were sliding against his balls, just below where he really wanted them, hard as diamonds. At least getting killed for this was going to be worth it. “What’d you think, babe?” she turned to Barry, taking his hand in hers. “Should we split something?”

“If you want to…?” his oblivious, casual smile was almost too much.

She smirked and turned to Len. “Leonard?”

He glanced at Barry, who finally looked a little perplexed, sharing his gaze, then turned back to arch his eyebrow at Iris. “You have something specific in mi–ind?” He almost swore as her foot shifted suddenly to massage his cock, straining against the front of his pants. It was warm and deft and he had never in his life been attracted to feet but the pressure was perfect and he wanted to murder her for the challenge and amusement in her eyes.

“I’m thinking chocolate,” she said. “Something we can split three ways. You okay with a three-way split, Barr?” She still had his hand entwined with hers and slipped it off the table. Len’s chest constricted. Barry’s eyes widened, cheeks flushing ever so slightly.

“Oh. Oh.” He was way too obvious, eyes shifting between Iris and Len. He wondered where she’d placed his hand? On her thigh, feeling the muscles tighten as she worked Len? Or somewhere even more intimate. Barry coughed and leaned forward on his other elbow, that damning hand still somewhere. “A three-way… split. Yeah that would be… perfect.”

Shit, Len should not have taken that long to pick up on Iris’s meaning. He’d been busy panicking, in his own defense. But the look Barry was giving him… maybe Len’s own attraction hadn’t been so one sided after all.

The waitress returned with the menu and suddenly all hands were accounted for, all feet back where they ought to be and Len tried not to mourn the loss. “We’ll have the chocolate cake à la mode. Just the one. Three spoons, please.”

Iris’s smile was dazzling. The waitress smiled back, surreptitiously giving Len what he recognized well as a ‘nice catch’ glance. If only she knew.

He cleared his throat, willing his body to calm down. They still had dessert to get through. “You two split dessert often?”

Iris looked charmed that he was carrying on the metaphor but it was Barry who answered, scratching the back of his neck.

“First time for everything.”

That was interesting.

“I’m honored.”

“I might’ve mentioned to Iris,” Barry glanced at her, still looking faintly shy, “something about wanting to share dessert with you before.”

That was even more interesting. Len hooked his foot forward to catch Barry’s ankle. He was no Iris, but he knew how to flirt. “I know my reputation precedes me but I promise I can play nice with others. At least when I’m so inclined.”

“So you are… inclined?”

Len titled his head. “It’s a particularly appealing dessert. And what can I say - I’ve always had a sweet tooth.”

Iris laughed and Barry did with her, both of them sighing it out. “I can’t hold up this metaphor any longer,” Iris admitted. “Not with a straight face anyway.” Her foot was hooked around Len’s other ankle now but her shoe was back on so he took it to mean that he’d get to keep his sanity intact for the rest of the meal.

“You started it.”

She finished her wine with a smile. They’d polished off the bottle, and it wasn’t long before dessert was gone too. He was pretty sure she ate it slow and sexy just to drive him and Barry wild, and if so she succeeded. Barry kept stealing glances at him, caught between shy and flushing, and Len couldn’t wait to get out of there. He picked up the tab, both of them trying to protest but he’d hear none of it.

They made it all of the way back to the car before Barry pressed him against the side of it and kissed him thoroughly. Iris gasped, delighted, and Len felt heady and warm, surprised but not at all disappointed that he was taking charge.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for… I can’t even say how long.” Barry’s eyes were lidded but earnest when he pulled back and Len could barely stop looking at his lips.

“Mm, that makes two of us. Never figured either of you would be willing to share.”

“I never thought Iris would go for it,” Barry glanced to the side at her, and Len couldn’t blame him, considering the first time he and Iris had met had involved death threats in their living room.

“Well,” Iris cupped Len’s face and leaned up on her toes to kiss him. She tasted like wine and chocolate and he was still pressed to Barry and for a moment, everything in the world felt better than perfect. “What can I say? It turns out Barry has good taste.”

[ … ]

He talked to Lisa two days later. She had a twinkle in her eye asking how his night went. “My date never did show,” he pretended to be put out, since Lisa was the one to set up the blind date with a friend of hers.

“Oh? So you went home alone?”

“Not exactly,” he smirked.

“Oh good,” she smiled. “Maybe you’re lucky you got stood up then.”

“You’re not… mad, at all?”

“Not in the least. Especially since my friend Sharon doesn’t exist.”

That took a second to process. “Lise…”

“I’ll have to thank Cisco for the intel on where your two favorite heroes were going to be for their date night.”

“You… what.”

“Oh Lenny,” she patted his arm. “You really are hopeless. If your crush wasn’t visible from outer space I wouldn’t have done anything, but… here we are.”

“Outer. Space.”

“If it makes you feel any better, Cisco said Mr. Red Leather was just as bad. This was like a mercy kill, brother. A mercy setup.”

“You’re disowned.”

She cackled at his retreating, red-faced back. “Just don’t forget to thank me in your wedding vows!”

#coldwestallen #prompt fill #this ask is literally months old whoops #like ages old but who's counting #the anon is probably counting but sshhh let's pretend #my writing #redhead vs. writing #replies #Anonymous #unedited #i'll edit at some vague future date #lmao i'm running a writing workshop tomorrow and this is what i'm doing instead of prepping slides #long post #long post for ts #idk this went off the rails from what i was originally planning #but i hope you liked it

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meroniasecretexchange-blog · 6 years

Text

The Experiment.

Author: thewalkingpoptart

Gift For: @addie-scribbles

Prompt: Practice kissing for the sake of science

Author’s Note: I really nervouse about how this came out but I am not dissatisfied with it. Hope you enjoy.

Near didn’t believe in luck. Luck to him was always careful planning with smart timing. People like to believe in luck when it suits them. When they don’t want to take responsibility or know the odds are against them. Near would never consider himself careless, bad at timing, or most importantly, a hypocrite. But at this very moment, he was feeling very extremely unlucky.

Ms.Olufsen was currently sitting behind her desk looking at a bundle of test papers. She had pushed a small crumpled sheet of notebook paper towards the young male. The words Science Partners were written in dark blue sharpie and below it a list of student names. Each person had written their own name beside the person they wished to be partnered with. Near’s eyes slowly moved down the sheet, noting every un-doted ‘i’ and every curved letter. He saw Mello’s bold, big, angled signature was missing a name next to it. “Mello doesn’t have a lab partner,” Ms.Olufsen said. explained. She went on to say how Mello’s drive may have, well, scared a few of the students. Because of an illness, Near had been sick the past three days. “I know you and Mello don’t have the best chemistry but I am sure this science project can fix it. Besides l know that if you two paired up with anyone else you’ll most likely have to hold back. ” She went on and on for a good 5 minutes. Near licked his dry lips. He was in no way opposed to working with the blonde. In fact, he quite liked his willingness and his overall feel. He ran his fingers through his hair feeling a strong sting of pain when his pointer hooked on to a knot. He twisted the strands of hairs. “It’s quite alright, Ms, Olufsen. It is only reasonable that my absence is used as a place marker for anyone who was left without a partner. I am sure Mello and I can figure something out.” He quickly signed away his name next to Mello’s. His waveline handwriting small and light.

Mello’s dorm was just a little ways away from Near’s. Mello was one floor above and closer to the end of his hallways compared to Near being at the beginning of his. Near wasn’t nervous per say just extremely cautious. He must have spent 7 hours working on a paper replica of the Sagrada Familia before taking a quick nap. Near had never been there in person but calendar photos and his extreme want to go helped drive him to build the replica. He wouldn’t want to go by himself however nor with an appointed babysitter. A long time ago he had thought about asking Mello. In short, it didn’t go well.

Near was halfway to Mello’s dorm. Near slowed his pace and focused on keeping a straight face. He needed a safe way to approach the situation. He couldn’t just knock on Mello’s door and expect the boy to be okay with it. Of course, Mello would be upset that Near was 'probably, interrupting his study time. This could end with the two parties feelings being hurt and if a grade was on the line Near couldn’t afford any more negative emotions to happen before the project even began. Near looked up from the floor. His eyes moved away from their stationary position on the floor. He hadn’t realized that he had stopped in the middle of the hallway. Near may be the most personal person in the world but he had something of an idea of how to talk to people. However, when it comes to Mello things always get out of hand.

“Hey Short Stacks, whats cooking?” Near couldn’t hide his startled jump. “Oh, Hi Matt. I’m on my way to have a talk with Mello.” Standing before Near was Mello’s oldest friend, Matt. He and Near didn’t have any beef, but Matt usually preferred to keeps his distance from the Near. No one knew if this was because of Mello or the redhead’s own personal preferences. Every now and again they would engage in conversation. It was always pleasant. Matt nodded his head. “Right now? It’s about the project isn’t it.” Near shook his head. “Yeah, I figured. Ya, know. I love my boy but I had my eyes set on a different passion project if you know what I mean.” He gave Near a sleazy smile before letting out a chuckling laugh.

“You need not feel like you need to explain yourself to me, Matthew. Are you and Linda actually going to do a project this year?”

Matt shrugged off the question, continuing on his way to where ever he was off too.

Near let out a soft raspberry, bragging his feet against the hardwood floor. Reaching Mello’s door he raps his hand against Mello’s door. Mello was one of the few who didn’t decorate their door with anything. Even Near had a small transformer hanging from his doorknob. A frown formed its way on to Near lips after 3 minutes of staring at the plain wooden door. He knocked harder on the door and called out the boy’s name.

The soft sound of bed sheet ruffling could be heard before silence once again filled the air. Near, now feeling frustrated, grab the knob, swing the door open just barely missing Mello’s face. “Ah Mello, I’ve see that you are not busy. May I come in?”

The boy walked into Mello’s personal courters. The walls were rather bare besides a few test paper and note cards posted on the wall. The door to the bathroom was closed. A small football was off in the corner. Mello’s think green sheets seemed to be thrown about at almost as if someone was laying on them just minutes before. “Near, Mello started.”

“I have just recently been informed that we are science partners. I would like us to beginning planning because I could imagine that we are already behind. I was thinking something in the mood of agriculture.” Near made sure to avoid eye contact. The smaller boy stepped farther into the room and sat down on the bed. It was warm.

“You do realize it’s 10 o'clock at night, right?”

Near tried his best to suppress a look of shock. He felt his cheek burn. Near had taken a long nap a couple of hours prior. He could he have forgotten to check the time. “I hope I hadn’t disturbed your rest, Mello.”

There was a soft but stern sigh. Near let his eyes wander up to watch Mello’s mouth. He had a full bottom with paired with a symmetrical top lip. His teeth were a natural white with a pink tongue showing when Mello gave a huge yawn. Near bit his own inner lip.

“But I guess its too late for that. I would honestly rather do something quick and easy with you, Near. I would rather spend as little time with you as possible. Let make a fucking paper mache volcano or some shit.” Mello was stretching as he spoke, letting his midriff show. Letting is perfect fine blond hair flirt with Near’s eyes, asking him if he wants to go for a ride. “Near!”

“Mello,” Near’s voice cracked just a little, “I don’t think we shouldn’t half-ass things just because of your personal vendetta against me. I am surprised that someone with as big as an eg - Someone with such a passion for flair, would want to do something simple.”

There was a pained looked on Mello’s face. He clutched the bridge of his nose with his fingers, squeezing his eyes shut. He mumbled about not wanting to do this at this time of night. “Near. Lets just. Fuck. Let’s just look for some ideas on the computer, okay?” He said it in a babying voice.

Mello than squatted down in beside that area Near was setting at pushing his fingers underneath the mattress, pulling out a small apple laptop. This was interesting to Near because students at the Wammy house weren’t allowed to have their own personal devices for fear of classified information being leaked. Even Matt had to rent his handheld gaming devices from the library.

Near wanted to ask how he got it, Near wanted to ask if Mr.Ruvie knew he had, Near wanted to what he used it for, but most importantly he wants to know if he could use it. “You got that while you were on one of your mini adventures?” Mello hated when Near called his 'Outings’ to the city an adventure. It reeked of miatisum. Mello just rolled his eyes before lazily typing in science projects.

“ Look at this isn’t this nice, uhhhhh, the science of plants and music.”

“Mello, you’re not even trying.”

The two went on for a long time. Mello eventually pushing the illegal laptop to the side allowing Near to take over completely. After about another hour of searching, Near swung the laptop into Mello’s direction. “Let’s make a chemical-sniffing robot.”

Mello growled turning his face away for the bright screen softy lazy waving away Near’s words. “Sure whatever, just get out of here,” he mumbled. Near let out a short grunt. “Just let me…” Near proceed to try to email the article to himself for future reference. Opening up Mello’s email, clicking the compose button. He sent an email to [email protected], smiling triumphantly to having his way. His cheeks blushed a deep red when he saw Mello’s first and only unopened electronic letter. Someone had apparently answered Mello’s comment on the article “13 kissing techniques to ignite your love life.” Near knew that this was against the law but he frankly didn’t care. He pushed the laptop away closer so that it’s back was facing the blonde. The article was one of those shitty slideshows but it was captivating enough.

1. “Start Slow. One of the biggest kissing complaints I hear from the women in my sex therapy practice is when men go for the kill right away.”

Near, tugged on his hair. He never understood why people were fond of kissing so intoxicating. Why the game spin the bottle was so popular, it was a mystery to him. The idea of having someone’s spit in his mouth never seemed appealing. The next slide feature a woman and a male in a loving embrace on a bed.

2. “Take Your Time. Another major complaint I hear from women is that men are too quick to move on from kissing.

Near read all the way through to slide 6. The 6 slide was taking a painfully long time to load. He was now fully on the bed sitting criss-cross listening to Mello’s even breathing learning about a subject that should not be having this effect on him. None of the pictures were extremely sexual nor was writing explicit. Could he be this deprived of human contact that the meer mention of it cause a reaction or maybe the power of hormones was too strong even for him? Near hadn’t’ acted this way during his sex education course. He took the time to straighten his face and peek over to make sure Mello was still asleep. He looked like an angle. His shinning blonde hair slowly falling over his closed eyes, head resting on the edge of the bed. His left lip twitching every now and gain. He should shake Mello wake. Having a body resting on the edge of the bed with legs folded underneath him would give anyone neck issues.

Near inched forward gently moving a strand of hair from falling into Mello’s mouth. 'Mello’s a big boy. He’ll get over it.” Near thought.

6.Play with her hair. I know it sounds cliché, but most women love having their hair played with, especially during a makeout session. Put your hand at the nape of her neck, with your fingers spread wide. Slowly rake your hand up the base of her head, lightly scratching her scalp with your fingertips. Then, pull your fingers together so you’re gently tugging at her hair—or hold her face with your hands, and run your fingers through the hair behind her ears.

Near felt a pleasurable burst of heated embarrassment down in his stomach. Near was in no way ignorant about his own character. He had a thing for hair. He loved that sharp pain that spread through his scalp and the light buzz that followed after. It was one of this one physical stimulation that could calm him and excite him all at the same time. Near clicked to see the next page but he was interrupted by a black screen that read “AD.”

He sucked in a breath and prepared for death.

Loudly a Lady asked Near if he was sick and tired of being cold all the time and not being able to cover his toes with a blanket. Introducing the SNUGGIE. “I already have one,” Near hushed. He moved to click off the ad, yet the computer stalled causing the video to break up its speech.

The laptop slammed shut almost catching nears fingers. A disgruntled Mello with pure hate in his eyes was the site that followed after. An angry knocking could be heard on the side of the wall. “You’re still here?”

“I got side tr-tracked, honestly. I was just trying to email the information to myself” Near twisted a strand of hair, blushing deeply as he did; never letting his eyes leave Mello’s.

“Why are you blushing? What were you?” Mello’s eyes widened. “You didn’t, did you?” Mello gave his laptop a hard look. “You were reading my emails.” It was said more as a statement than a question.

“Not exactly,” Near explained the situation, lying little. He had said that opening the email was a simple mistake and from there he was simply learning some new things he needs to know for his chemical justice class.

“You need to learn about kissing for you criminal justice class.” Mello Lifted an eyebrow.

“I would be lying if I said I didn’t have a personal interest in the action myself. From the looks of if you do too. I don’t understand the act of kissing. It is unnecessary in the act of procreation and is just another way to spread germs. In fact, I bet it all hype, just awkward movements human do to express lust and/or admiration. Just another physical act one needs the forget about in order to be the next L.”

“Are you asking me to kiss you.”

“Of course not. Mello. I am simply asking you to show me the reason people are so obsessed with the act of swapping saliva. It’s in our movies. It’s portrayed as an act so powerful it cause two to fall in love on site. I want to know if the act of stimulating someone’s mouth is really so grand that it cause this amount of human attention. The first kiss is almost as important as a person’s first time. Of course, I should get going. You’re probably to tried to take part in something of an experiment.”

Near unfolded his legs sliding off Mello’s bed sheets.

“An experiment you say? It sure sounds like you’re looking for something else, Near. A good time?”

“No Mello. Stop looking for something that isn’t there you know I’m not like that. This is for the pursuit of knowledge!”

Mello pushed his tongue to the side of his mouth. Standing up so that he was towering over Near. “What would I get out of it?”

“ Learning if the kissing techniques displayed in the article actually works.”

Mello let out a scuff.

“ And bragging right for FINALLY being more knowledgeable on a subject than I am.”

“Fine.”

Near swallowed, before setting back on the bed this time with his right leg pressed up to his chest and the left folded under.

Mello opened his laptop and quickly muted it. “Step one” he chuckled.

Near licked his lips. Leaned in. Letting his hands rest on his knee. Mello tucked a lock of hair behind Near’s ear. He gently grabs the back of Near’s head; leading him into the kiss. Near could feel his warm breath against his lips. Near puckered. “ Hold on. Mello said. "You are far to stiff. Relax.”

Near just blinked emptily at Mello. Mello leans away and cracked his neck. “Come on Near I don’t want to be here all night. Science can’t wait, RIGHT?”

“Of course” Uhhh. Near pushed his right leg under his but much like his left. He shook out his arm. “I am ready.”

“No, You’re not, Mello laughed, Look at your face. Come on, have you honestly never done this before.

"No.” Near snapped.

“Never played Spin the Bottle.”

“I don’t get invited to parties Mello.”

“Not surprising. Is that why you’re on the great passage to figure out if kissing really is so sexually stimulating to warrant the cultural reaction? You know for the science?”

“ Are you going to kiss me for science or not”

“Come here,” Mello cooed.

He pushed Near into his lap and wrapped his arm around Nears waist. His left hand softly ran up and down Near’s back. Once again the two of them led into each other. Mello had a soft smile on his “What’s our hypotheses?,” Mello breath against Near’s lips. “Hypothesis?”

Mello laid his hair to the right. He pushed his lips onto Near’s. The younger boy’s shoulders hitched and his back locked into an uncomfortable position. Mello started to slowly move his lips against Near’s. Near’s heart attacked his ribs and he begged his lips to move along Mello’s, yet his body seemed fully content with letting Mello do all the work. Mello’s hands were now cupping his face. They stayed in a soft dance of Mello leading them for a few minutes. Near was relaxed by now. Pushing against Mello and coping his moments. Near let out a soft moan, letting his fingers rest on the open part of Mello’s legs. Mello softly bites Near’s lip pulling back slowly. Near let out a loud breathes gasps pushing himself into Mello, giving the taller boy a quick peck. They let their foreheads touch.

“Trail One,’ Near Started. ” Was unsuccessful. I um I still don’t think its all that.. that great.“

"Don’t hold you’re breath this time Near. It’s okay to breathe.”

“Mello, Slide three said we need to put our bodies into it.”

Near opened his ears only to meet Mello’s deep blue orbs. “Mello smiled. He quickly turned and opened a word doc and typed 'Trial one: Unsuccessful.’

Near pushed his chest against Mello’s and repositioned his to the sides of Mello’s hips. Mello’s lips were once again passed against Near’s hands once again caressed Near’s cheeks. Near traveled his hands up Mello’s side lifting them and wrapping his arms around Mello’s neck. Mello sucked on Near’s bottom lip before plunging his tongue int the wet cavern. Near moaned in surprised. Mello’s tongue explored Near’s mouth. Near began to softly roll his hips against Mello desperate to get closer. His body was on fire and his mind was running miles. Near felt Mello’s hand cup his butt and message knots into the soft flesh. When Mello pulled away from the kiss, Near once again felt awkward. He didn’t quite know what to do with his mouth. Mello kissed Near’s check, leaving a trail of kisses down the boy’s neck stopping, kissing and sucking on Near’s shoulder. "Ah, fuck. Mello!” Near pulled Mello’s shoulder to help him press closer to Mello’s. Near let out a small laugh. Near leaned away from his newly forming hickey to type into the computer “Second attempt unsecsefull.”

Mello pulled away. The two sway gently against each other both taking turns to peck at each other’s lips.

“Still don’t understand, Mello. I think this may take all night.”

Mello picked up Near laying the boy down on to his back, near wrapped his legs around Mello’s waist and grabbed a fist full of hair.

“That’s fine with me. Anything for science. ”

#death note #dn #meronia #meroniasecrectexchange #submission

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ellacrossman96 · 4 years

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kimberlycook95 · 4 years

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Save Marriage When There No Trust

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#Reddit How Did You Save Your Relationship Jaw-Dropping Tricks #How To Avoid Losing Your House In A Di

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looselucy · 7 years

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Childhood Friends / 4876 words

Catch up

September 2017

Part One

“I’m so excited to meet him, I can’t even tell ya!” Ella giggled, helping me to set up my tiny flat for the evening. I couldn’t help but feel like I’d invited round one too many people. There was barely enough room for me to manoeuvre around my flat, never mind anyone else. I’d budged every single item in my room so they were pressed against the walls, but it genuinely hadn’t made much difference. People were bound to be tripping over one another all evening. “He’s excited to meet you too!” I cooed. “He’s a bit desperate for you all to like him.”

“I really don’t know what to expect from him.” “Don’t expect much.” I chuckled. “He’s genuinely… weirdly normal, to say how abnormal his life is.” “Y’know, Kat’s a bit… sceptical.” “Yeah but Kat believes everything she fucking reads.” I tut. “I get that she’s just worried but, it doesn’t even matter what I say to her! She’s totally got her mind made up on him already, and it’s pissing me off.” Katherine spent most of her days at work scrolling through the Daily Mails website, and honestly, she’d speak about celebrity gossip like they were her own friends, like any of us gave a shit. She’d always been that way, so I’d been worried about her finding out about me and Harry even being friends, never mind anything more than that. She’d recently stumbled across an article listing off the many hearts he’d apparently broken, and how he’d done it. I didn’t blame her for being worried. If all I had was the image of Harry that so many media outlets had latched onto throughout the years, I’d probably think he was a bit of a bastard too, but I knew him and I knew how he felt about me. I wished she’d just stop doubting that I was telling her more truth than those articles were. “Maybe you should instruct him to pay her a little bit more attention.” Ella shrugged. “I dunno. I don’t want anything to feel forced.” I let out a large sigh. “I’ll just let him work his magic. She’ll be putty in his hands, I have no doubt.” I could tell I was getting older from the things I was preparing for my party, nibbles and perfectly cut sandwiches, bottles of wine and a floor length dress rather than crates of beers and not much else. It was actually something I’d spent time and money on rather than just throwing whatever alcohol was available together into one foul cocktail and hoping people would actually show up. I’d been living on my own for years, but that was one of the first times I actually felt like an adult. I was celebrating a promotion, and I didn’t even plan on over-drinking. It was weird. “I… I invited Tom.” Ella told me awkwardly. “What?” I cried. “Are you shitting me? Are you two figuring stuff out?” It had been almost four months since they split up, and she’d barely mentioned him since. Although I hated it, it really did seem like the end for them. They’d just left each other’s lives so suddenly, and they hadn’t taken steps back. To hear her even say his name again felt like a shock. “Is that okay? I know it’s another person, but-” “It’s fine, honestly, don’t worry about it.” I rushed. “Are you… Are you talking again?” “We bumped into each other… I dunno. I just… I dunno. I just wanted to… be around him again. For fuck sake. I’m gunna end up getting my heart broken all over again, aren’t I?” “Nah, he’s a decent lad.” I shook my head. “He won’t do anything to upset you.” “That’s exactly my point! That’s what’s gunna break my heart!” “Just don’t… get too drunk and start spouting about how much you love him.” I suggested weakly. “Just… be cool. Be casual. Be nonchalant. Be… y’know… Whatever your natural instinct is, just ignore it.” “Okay.” She laughed. “I’ll try.” We continued prepping my house for a short while longer, and then as soon as we felt it was done we pretty much collapsed onto my sofa, like we’d just completed a hard day’s work, when in reality we’d barely done anything. Sitting there and gazing upon the room only reinforced just how small it was in there. “Oh my god you can fit a maximum of five people in here.” Ella grimaced. “I know. For fuck sake.”

Part Two

I’d felt it polite to invite the other people from my office, but I was ten minutes into a conversation about our new printer with a guy whose name I couldn’t even remember, and I was beginning to regret that decision. I chanced another glance at my phone, seeing that it was now past ten o’clock, and also seeing that I didn’t have a missed call, or even a text from Harry. He hadn’t shown up. I knew he would at some point. It was more than likely that something had cropped up and he was running a little late, but he would appear. He had to. If he couldn’t he would have at least had the decency to give me a call. I knew him. I knew that he wouldn’t just not show and not even call me to give me some kind of excuse or explanation. That was what I kept telling myself, even though the truth was that I was already angry. I’d been expecting him before the party even started, really, and now we were two hours in and he hadn’t had the common sense / decency to even let me know whereabouts he was. It was frustrating, to say the least. I nodded along to the conversation about the printer, glancing over the lads shoulder to see Tom and Ella talking, and although they definitely weren’t shouting, it didn’t really look like an easy conversation either. “Sorry, I should… I need to just go talk to my friend, I’m sorry!” I scurried past him, obviously only a few steps away from the two of them since that was all my flat allowed, but Katherine somehow still managed to stop my journey, stepping in front of me with her arms folded. “Where is he? Is he here yet?” She scowled. “Does it look like he’s here?” “Nope.” “Well, there’s your answer.” “What’s he playing at?” “I dunno, Kat!” “Have you tried to call him?” “No. He’s probably driving.” “Doesn’t he have hands-free? He’s gotta be rich enough to have a car with bloody hands-free.” I was hoping she’d just drop it, but I knew she wouldn’t. What annoyed me most was that I could tell she wanted to like him, and she wanted to be fine with him and that night was her opportunity to be that way; to just stop worrying about my relationship and to meet him and realise why I was putting myself through it in the first place. But this was just making everything worse. I wished I could at least give her an explanation, but I didn’t have one. “Can we just drop it?” I groaned. “I’m… mad enough with him as it is right now without you making me feel even bloody worse about it.” “I’m not trying to make you feel bad, I’m just-” “But you are making me feel bad. I know you don’t like him, and I know this won’t be helping, but he’ll be here soon, alright? He’ll charm the fuck out of you and then you can just get off my back.” “I’m not on your back!” She scowled. “Really? Because it fucking feels like you are, Kat!” “Lulu-” “Leave it. Please.” She rolled her eyes, and then off she went, on her way to charm the party like she was perfectly capable of. Because that was one of the reasons I knew she’d love Harry when they eventually met, because they were so damn similar. They’d probably spend the night sniggering together and bouncing off each other and I’d been looking forward to that. I think even if he turned up in that very moment, he probably wouldn’t get much more than an eyeroll from her. He’d already left his impression and it was not a good one. I brushed past her, now noticing that Tom was almost snarling at Ella, so I happily interjected, faking a happy smile as though I didn’t have a clue I was stepping into something awful. “Hi, you two! How’s things?” “Lulu, thank for having me but, I really need to go.” Tom faked happiness back to me. “You sure?” “Yeah, I… Yeah. I’m sorry. Congrats on the job.” “Thanks!” I couldn’t tell if Ella was relieved or gutted to watch him walk out the door. I glanced over her face, concerned because I knew she wasn’t handling the breakup well, even still. “I’m never gunna get over him.” She began to panic. “He’s that person, isn’t he? I’m gunna be fifty years old with a fucking husband and I’ll be thinking of him. Oh my god, Lulu, I’m freaking out.” “Go out onto the balcony. Go!” I practically pushed her. Gabby had already spotted the interaction, appearing within seconds, wrapping her arm around Ella and leading her outside, onto the small balcony I’d deemed off limits to everyone for the evening. One too many drinks on a balcony that small was a risk I was not willing to take. Those two were trustworthy enough. I edged towards the kitchen area, the task taking much longer than it should with the amount of bodies I had to worm my way through, hoping to grab a few snacks and take them outside to the girls. But Georgina came and stopped me in my tracks. I didn’t like her, and I was absolutely sure that she didn’t like me, but you can’t invite an entire office to a party and just leave out one person without a half decent reason. She was the girl who had grilled me about Harry when she’d seen the pictures of us together in LA, and ever since the media had found out who we were, she’d made plenty of jibes at me. She was filled to the brim with little jokes and sly comments and I was glad my office would be private the following week, just so I no longer had to sit across from her. “Hey!” She beamed, overly happy. “Nice party.” “Uh, yeah. Thanks.” “Is Harry coming?” “Um, I dunno.” I shrugged, pushing past people a little more. “Everyone’s saying he’s supposed to be here. Don’t tell me he cancelled on you? I wanted to meet him! I’m a big fan.” “No you’re not.” I sniggered. “Well, he looks nice enough.” “Keep your fingers crossed for an appearance then.” She followed my trail, remaining by side as I gathered together some of the less healthy food options I had available, knowing that would be exactly what Ella needed to calm her down. I hated the way I could see Georgina grinning at me, almost like she was smug over the fact that Harry hadn’t shown up. I knew she was eager to meet him, for whatever twisted reason, but I didn’t understand why it was she was so damn happy about it. “How do you do it?” She asked next, genuinely sounding intrigued. “Do what?” “Manage a relationship with someone like that?” “We figure it out.” “It can’t be easy.” “But I love him.” I replied. “And that’s enough?” Honestly, I felt like I was going to cry. Those three words balanced a feeling upon the very top of my heart, one that threatened to fall off with a heavy thud and shatter somewhere within my stomach. I lost my cool, turning around to her and shooting her an unfriendly look, glad to see the smug look being wiped from her face before I’d even spoken. “Aren’t you going home?” I scowled. “We’re not mates, are we? So why don’t you leave?” “Lulu-” “Just fuck off. Please.” With that, I was done, taking the assortment of foods I’d gathered into a bowl and taking it outside to my girls, the only two I knew would support me through my feelings even though it was blatantly obvious that my feelings were not enough.

Part Three

It was just past two in the morning, and I was storming around my flat as I cleaned up the surprisingly small amount of mess that had been created over the evening. Despite the little bit of drama experienced between Ella and Tom, then me and Georgina, it had been an extremely tame evening. I marched everything I could over to the kitchen, gathering empty bottles and cans and used glasses by the sink, and I swear I didn’t even flinch when I heard the door opening. I just looked towards it, seeing Harry stood in my doorway lifelessly, not doing anything, or saying anything. He was just stood there, looking pretty miserable. I shot him a foul look. I’d already been angry whilst I was tidying, but this just made things worse. Suddenly I was throwing things around my flat, still convinced I was cleaning things but probably making even more of a mess. He steadily welcomed himself into my home, closing the door and looking around, hands dug deep into his pockets. Eventually, my nerve broke. “Thanks for having the decency to show up.” I huffed. “But you’re a bit late. It’s over.” “Little Lulu Lamb-” “Don’t!” I spat, stilling myself for just a moment to glare at him. “Don’t fucking call me that!” “Look, I’m sorry!” He began to approach me, but soon stopped himself when he realised I was not ready for his affections. “Lulu, I’m sorry!” “For which part? For showing up now? For not even fucking letting me know where you were?” “Something came up!” “That’s the bit that pisses me off the most. I’m not even surprised.” “Don’t say that.” He fumed. “Don’t act like this is normal!” “THE ONLY REASON IT’S NOT NORMAL IS BECAUSE YOU DON’T COME HERE TO SEE ME!” “Yes I do!” He argued, and honestly it made me laugh. “Harry, tonight was important to me.” I finally stopped what I was doing, turning to look at him with tears in my eyes. “It was so important, and I really wanted you to be here with me.” He didn’t say anything, merely looking back at me, and I could tell he was hurt by the things I was saying, but I just didn’t know how he was going to react to it. I was expecting apologies, really. I was expecting him to beg for my forgiveness, give me a proper explanation and say he’d make it up to me. I wish he’d done that. “Lulu… I just need you to be a little bit more aware of my schedule. I’m busy, and I need you to be conscious of that.” I threw the glass that was in my hands onto the floor, the item smashing, the noise in turn making Harry flinch and ask what the fuck I was doing, but he’d hit such a nerve by saying that. It was the first time I came to terms with the fact that Harry was utterly clueless about how I’d almost began to shape my life around him, and his schedule. He figured just because I wasn’t moving to London for him, that nothing in my life had changed. I was furious. “You are fucked in the head, Harry. You’re a spoilt fucking brat!” I began. “Y’know, you once threw it in my face that every time we’ve met up, it’s been your idea. You once used that against me to try and make me feel guilty, but of course it was always your ideas when we should meet up, because it’s always on your fucking schedule, isn’t it?” “No.” He argued weakly. “YES IT IS, HARRY! You always set the dates and I just have to schedule my life around you! I’m always the one going to London. I’ve flown out to LA for you! TWICE! I’m back in fucking Holmes Chapel at the drop of a hat and it’s all whenever you can do it! It’s all built around when you’re free!” “But-” “I GET WHY, HARRY! YOU DON’T NEED TO FUCKING EXPLAIN YOURSELF TO ME!” I forced myself to calm. “But don’t stand there and tell me that I need to be more aware of your schedule. All I do, is think about your fucking schedule, and wonder how I can slot myself into your life for a fucking day or two. IT’S ALL I DO, HARRY!” “Okay, I’m sorry!” He weakened, knowing I was right. “But this was the one time where I needed you to work around my schedule. Just once. This was the first fucking time that I needed you to work with me, and you couldn’t do it. Do you even nearly understand how that makes me feel? Is that something you can wrap your head around? That this is always on your terms, and the one time it’s not, you can’t pull through for me! It’s fucking horrible.” He didn’t have a clue what to say to me. He looked completely defeated, and every other time I’d seen him looking that way, it had been my initial instinct to go up and comfort him and try to help him feel better, but in that moment, I just wanted to increase that look of agony. He deserved to know how I was feeling, and I deserved to voice it. “I don’t need to be any more conscious of your schedule than I already am, Harry, and the fact that you can’t see that kills me.” “I see it now, I’m sorry!” “It’s too late now! You shouldn’t need me yelling at you to realise what’s been going on with us for the past year! You should have known anyway! I am not just a fucking side character in your life, Harry. I’m too busy being the lead of my own.” “What does that mean? How do you think I see you?” He cried. “You would love for me to quit my job, wouldn’t you? You would love it, if I chased you everywhere you went and just meshed into your life and lost my own. Wouldn’t you?” “Are you trying to make me feel guilty for wanting you around?” He baffled. “No! I’m just pointing out that you deem your life as that much more important than mine. You think I’m leading this really boring existence and you’d be doing me a favour if I just dropped everything and… moved to fucking London and went on tour with you. But that’s not what I want from my fucking life, Harry! And you hate that. I know you won’t admit it, but you do. You hate that I won’t drop everything for you. Just because I’m not in the same industry as you, doesn’t make my existence disposable. I love my life, as it is, and I won’t change it for you!” It felt so good to be saying things I’d barely allowed myself to think about previously, because it was all so true, and they were things that had been silently tearing me down over our months together. I’d denied it all because I loved him, and I wanted things to work with him, but I’d buried the feelings so deeply that I’d merely planted seeds, and now they were all sprouting and coming to life in great numbers. “Lulu, I’m sorry.” He finally plucked up the courage to get closer to me again, but I only took steps further from him. “You’re right, and I’m sorry. I’ll do better, I promise! I’m sorry.” “Where’ve you been?” I asked. “The band were all… in one place, for the first time in ages and we needed to rehearse. We’ve got… the Live Lounge coming up and tour starts so soon like… we needed-” “It couldn’t have waited? You couldn’t have delayed it by one day?” “I should have.” “Then why didn’t you?” “I don’t know!” He looked like he was on the verge of tearing his hair out. “I don’t know!” “You didn’t because to you, this isn’t important.” I answered for him. “It is important, and I know that, and I’m sorry for turning up to late. I thought people would still be here!” “It wasn’t that kinda party, Harry. My life is actually normal. This wasn’t a wild fucking party, it was just a celebration. That’s all it was. People drank wine, and chatted, and went home.” It was a far cry from the kind of parties Harry experienced, where people celebrated magazine covers and pay-rises that resulted in what I would consider a small fortune. Harry’s life was so far from my own, and it seemed that day after day and month after month, I was coming to terms with that more and more. He began to approach me again, this time not backing down even though I was moving further from him, not wanting him to weaken my attempts at being angry with him. “Lulu, I’m sorry.” He grabbed at my cheeks, pulling me to him and putting his lips upon my forehead. “I get so numb to this stuff, and so wrapped up in it, and I’m sorry.” “Stop.” “Lulu, please-” “WHAT, HARRY? WHAT?” I cried, pushing him further from me. “I’m angry at you!” “I know, and I’m trying to make it better!” “You can’t, Harry! You can’t make this better! This isn’t just about tonight, this is everything!” He seemed so confused, not understanding that it wasn’t just about him not showing up that night, but it was about everything that said about our relationship. How he’d handled everything that night helped to change the way I viewed our relationship, and where it was heading. My head was pounding. Seeing how upset he was didn’t help, but I knew that Harry thought he could just pout and kiss me and say he was sorry and then get his way, but it wasn’t enough. “But… But everything’s good.” He trembled. “Everything’s fine.” “This isn’t fine, Harry. This isn’t enough, I can’t be in a relationship like this. It’s too much.” “Lulu, we love each other and that’s all that matters!” He panicked. “Fuck everything else!” “I can’t, Harry! I love you and I want to but I can’t! I can’t ignore all this stuff that’s working against us anymore! And the fact that you can’t see it only makes me feel worse.” “Is it… Is it the fans? Are they bothering you?” “NO, IT’S YOU! IT’S US!” I yelled at him, and I could see my words physically stinging him. “It’s the way that I have to work so hard and change my own plans just in the hope of spending a few days with you. And even when I’m there you’re too busy. It’s the fact that you didn’t even realise how much I’ve been trying to make this work! It’s the fact that our lives are so fucking different now, that this will never work. It will never work!” “It will! It can! We just have to… we have to try!” His eyes were beginning to fill with tears. I distanced from him even more, beginning to tidy around my flat again because it helped me to keep my nerve for some reason. Looking at him and taking in how hard he was taking everything I was saying just made me want to kiss him, but I needed to say those things and to express what I was feeling. So many years of burying my feelings, not talking or addressing things, and I thought Harry had been the one to finally help me open up, when really, I think he only helped me learn how to bury things deeper. “Not one other person thinks we’re well suited.” I continued, shaking my head and scurrying around my home. “Not even just the fans, but people we actually know. Our friends! People are so confused why we’re together, and I get it now! I totally understand why.” “Because they don’t understand us!” “I don’t understand us, Harry! We’re clinging onto this, because we like the thought of us, but we don’t work! We like the thought of this because we grew up together, and this is what we wanted when we were fifteen years old, but we’re not kids anymore! The fact is our lives cannot work together, and we need to accept that.” “I WON’T FUCKING ACCEPT THAT, LULU! I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU AND WE CAN MAKE THIS WORK! PLEASE!” I finally burst into tears. I’d been so pent up all night, it felt like I’d been on the verge of crying for hours but I’d held it in. He moved to hold me, wrapping his arms tight around my body and kissing the top of my head, shushing me as I wept against him, gripping onto his clothes and pulling him closer. I hated what I was feeling. I hated how obvious it all seemed then, like we’d been stupid to even attempt a relationship in the first place. I hated that Harry seemed so beaten by what I was saying and the fact that he couldn’t see the things I was seeing. He was utterly oblivious to everything, because he wasn’t the one who had to change anything. The only part of our relationship that he found difficult was how little we saw each other. For him, everything else was fine. It was hard to agree with him. It felt like every single problem and difficulty of our relationship was just screaming at me that night, and it was too much to take. Every daunting noise of our relationship was whistling against my ears, and it didn’t feel like something we could work through. “Please tell me you love me.” He spoke, and although my face was still hidden against his chest, I noticed the trembles of his voice. “I need to hear you say it, Lamb. Please.” “I do love you.” I complied. “I’ve always loved you.” “Then we can get through this.” He whispered, pulling at my head so he could place his lips delicately against mine. “You’ve gotta tell me where I’m fucking up, Little Lulu Lamb, and then I can make it better. I can change and I can be better for you, I know I can.” “It’s not you, Harry.” He puckered his lips again, and I couldn’t help but kiss him back. “It’s… It’s everything. It’s your life, and you career, which I wouldn’t want you to give up for the world! But… it’s too far from what I have, and what I do, and who I am! You need to find someone who-” “I don’t need to find anyone! I’ve got you! You’re the one I want, Lulu! I’ll make it work. We’ll make it work.” He kissed me again, fiercer this time, and I wished I could stop but I couldn’t. It felt so good to be close with him again, to lose myself in his touch and recall that connection we shared, something that occurred without our history and without our relationship and without every other bullshit aspect of our lives. What we shared was something to raw and primal, that for a while, just having his lips upon mine and his hands searching across my body, was enough to take away everything else. I stroked my hand through his short hair as his hands gripped at my waist, his hold so tight it was as though he felt like this was his only way of keeping hold of me. There was so much passion pulsing between us then, but it came with an indisputable sadness. We weren’t fixing things through that kiss, we were just kissing. It didn’t help, it only silenced us for a short while. So I knew it wouldn’t last. I knew our kiss would calm before it became too much, our lips parting steadily, and my heart ached. He kept his hands on me, eyes closed, heaving out a weighty sigh. And for the first time all night, it felt like there was absolutely nothing to say.

Part Four

I had slept with his arms around my waist, and honestly, it had helped me to feel better, a sweet reminder of our love. And yet I woke alone, and I was instantly reminded of everything else I had felt the night before, everything other than love. I whipped around as soon as I was conscious, seeing that the other side of my bed was empty. “You’re fucking kidding me.” I groaned. I sat upright, and the first thing I spotted was a note at the end of my bed, scrambling to pick it up and read over the very few words he’d left in his wake. Had to go back to London, I’m sorry. I’ll be back tonight, I promise. We’ll talk. I love you endlessly, H.

#TLATL11 #I know this isn't priority right now because Harry is doing all the things #but I'm gunna keep writing and I hope you keep reading hahah #Harry Styles #1dff #TLATL #The Lamb and The Lion

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moonbrianna96 · 4 years

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#How To Tell If Grape Plant Is Dead Astonishing Tricks #How Close To Plant Grape Vines

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crosbysierra95 · 4 years

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rebeccahpedersen · 5 years

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Are Bidding Wars Coming To An End?

TorontoRealtyBlog

Have you been reading Toronto Realty Blog for a week? A month? A year?

Choose any of the above, and surely you’ll have heard me talk about misleading headlines in the media, and how much that bothers me.

More often than not, it’s a headline like, “Real Estate Market Nosedives In May,” which leads the reader to assume that prices are down, when in fact it’s sales that have declined, and all the while prices are up.

But what conclusion would you draw from this headline?

“Frustrated By Bidding Wars? Home Buyers May See Some Changes Ahead”

An optimistic reader might assume that “bidding wars” are coming to an end, some way, somehow.

But it’s not the bidding war itself that the article is referencing in terms of “change,” but rather the process of bidding, and that’s the issue I take with this headline.

I understand that to get people to buy a paper, or click on an article, the headline has to entice. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I’ve been lured in by those sponsored ads on the sidebar of websites that look like articles, with headlines like, “These NFL stars’ wives are turning heads.”

But when it comes to real estate, which is my occupation and passion, it bothers me more than anything else. I’m sure the same would be true of whatever industry you happen to be in, and how headlines could be misconstrued.

Over the past couple of weeks, I have seen multiple headlines about “bidding wars” all of which don’t accurately reflect what’s actually happening in real estate circles. The above headline is a great example.

But even the articles themselves, or the sub-headings often don’t explain the issues at hand.

This article, “Ontario May Let Realtors Tell Homebuyers The Price Of Other Bids,” offers the sub-title, “right now, buyers often blindly offer more than what they had wanted to spend in hopes of beating their competitor.”

Well no kidding.

I wanted the house for free, but alas, what I wanted was not in line with fair market value.

Sarcasm aside, the true issue I have with that sub-title is that it seems to alleviate the buyer of all responsibility. It surmises that it’s somehow not the buyer’s fault, or that the buyer wasn’t in control of their actions, which isn’t the case.

It can’t be the case.

You can’t walk into Shopper’s Drug Mart to buy Tylenol, walk out with two magazines, Q-Tips, some Hallmark cards, and eight bottles of Pert Plus that were on sale, and then turn around and blame Shoppers from forcing you to spend so much.

So on the one hand, you have a headline suggesting that somehow bidding wars might be coming to an end, and on the other hand, you have a headline suggesting that it’s the fault of the system in place for buyers over-spending.

I don’t like either suggestion.

Here’s a headline that is more accurate:

“Ontario To Consider Allowing Disclosure Of Prices In Real Estate Bidding Wars”

Only now, I take issue with the term “bidding war,” because once again, it’s misleading.

What is a bidding war, after all?

Frustrated buyers have a completely different definition than most, and depending on whether you’re a buyer, seller, agent, or onlooker, you would define the term differently.

Let’s not confuse “a multiple offers situation” with a “bidding war.”

Because the moment we start referring to three offers on a $799,900, 3-bed, 2-bath semi-detached house on the east side as a “bidding war,” then we’re overreacting, and fear-mongering.

For as long as I have been writing this blog, and as long as I have been working in the real estate industry, there have been multiple offers on properties. Houses, condos, low-end, high-end, it doesn’t matter; every segment of the market is prone to having more buyers than sellers.

This is a fundamental principle in almost everything we discuss here on TRB, and it often goes without saying.

The media headlines seem to suggest that if there are five offers on a house, which is under-priced to begin with, that this is a “bidding war.”

I could not possibly disagree more.

A bidding war, in my opinion, occurs when two or more parties submit multiple bids, for the same property, at the behest of the seller.

For example, that $799,900 listing gets five offers, and the people who bid $1,005,000, $995,000, and $975,000 are all invited to “improve their offers.” And they do.

But then after that improvement, the seller’s agent says, “You’re all still soooo close, why don’t you improve again?” And they do.

And then after that, one of the buyers decides to improve even more, by his own accord, and the listing agent has a legal obligation to inform the other two bidders, so he does. And they may or may not improve again, but if they do, then the first bidder can improve yet again, and then the other bidders might want to as well, and then we’re into “bidding war” territory.

But if those three bidders simply improved their offers after the first submission, and then highest bid was chosen, that’s called “Tuesday” in my books. It’s nothing special. It’s ordinary, routine, expected, and the norm in the Toronto real estate market.

I can’t help but feel as though people like to use the term “bidding war” as a blanket statement to refer to essentially any offer process, and that’s such an incredible overreaction. If you encounter traffic on the highway tonight, you can’t go around saying, “All highways are trafficked, all the time.”

I have seen buyers who live in fear of multiple offers, and in many markets, they don’t end up buying. That’s tough in a market that’s appreciated every year for twenty-one straight years…

Now as for what’s really happening behind the scenes in this world of reports about “bidding war changes,” the last headline gave you an idea, but here’s the best article, and most accurate headline thus far:

“Ontario Looks To Level The Playing Field Between Home Buyers And Sellers”

This was published on Monday by Shane Dingman from the Globe & Mail, who is probably one of the most informed and accurate real estate reporters out there today. I’m not surprised to see his name accompanying this headline.

Level the playing field. That’s a good way of putting it.

Another term used with respect to potential changes is “modernization.”

Essentially, Realtors are governed by the Real Estate & Business Broker’s Act, which was written in 2002, and as OREA’s Tim Hudak has mentioned on many occasions, it’s wee bit out of date. It’s like reading George Orwell’s 1984 today, and expecting to learn something.

I’ve spoken to Tim Hudak about this on many occasions, and I recently gave him examples of my conversations with folks at RECO with respect to advertising, and how they fail to distinguish between different forms, ie. they have many of the same rules for online and print, which is like having the same instruction manual for a car and an airplane.

REBBA simply must be modernized, and I think Mr. Hudak and others are doing a good job of consulting agents to see what types of reform are needed.

When it comes to the rules associated with multiple offers, this is the area of the Act where, in my opinion, changes would be greatest felt by consumers.

The question at hand is simple: why can’t a listing agent divulge the terms and conditions of competing offers to bidders in a multiple offer process?

People refer to the bidding process as “blind,” and it is, to some extent.

On that $799,900 listing, the buyers with the three bids clustered at the top – $1,005,000, $995,000, and $975,000 clearly know something about what they should be offering, otherwise they wouldn’t be so close together. It’s called “Doing your homework,” and the person who offers $850,000 deserves to have their time wasted, as they clearly hired an agent who didn’t know what he was doing, or had no clue themselves.

The public, however, would love the process to allow for the listing agent to say, “The highest bid is $1,005,000, let me know if you want to improve your bid.”

That would be great for the bidder at $995,000, because if he was going to improve to $1,020,000, now he knows he would be over-bidding, and instead need only go to $1,006,000.

Everybody wins, right?

Well first of all, the seller doesn’t. But that’s why all of this “disclosure” would need the seller’s consent, and why I personally think no seller would consent, and why these changes mean nothing. But let’s keep the conversation going.

So what happens when the $995,000 bidder moves to $1,006,000? Does the $1,005,000 bidder go home?

No. He’s allowed to improve.

So he goes to $1,007,000.

And then the bidder at $1,006,000 goes to $1,008,000.

And so on.

And thus I ask, how is this any different in the end? How is this LESS of a “bidding war” than what the media currently refers to when discussing multiple offers?

In theory, allowing the listing agent to disclose the prices of offers (assuming this is after ALL offers are submitted, otherwise how the hell could any of this work?), would avoid the person at $995,000 from jumping to $1,050,000. But I can tell you that this rarely happens. In fact, the “over-bid” is almost always at the start of the process.

For example, that house listed at $799,900 gets five bids as per our previous example, only the top three are $1,050,000, $995,000, and $975,000. That is how the “over-bid” happens in 99% of cases, in my opinion. Those big bids are made right from the start, and thus the proposed changes to the Act wouldn’t prevent this.

Now from here, the natural conversation goes to something like, “Well why don’t we have open auctions, like they do in Australia?”

Ah, right!

We’ve all seen the video on YouTube, we’ve all read about it in the Toronto Star, and we’ve all seen online comments about how great their “system” is, and how it would allow people to bid in a transparent process that’s fair to all.

Except those bids are done in person, on the front lawn, during the middle of the day. I can’t wait until somebody suggests that this isn’t “fair.”

And many of those listings are sold before the auction begins.

And many of those listings are “withdrawn” before, during, or after the auction.

And many of those sales are not binding as they don’t meet the seller’s reserve; which leads to the property being “passed in” as the terminology goes, meaning “passed in to further negotiations.” In some auctions, 30-50% of “sales” are actually passed in.

And so on, and so on, and so on.

And what about online bids? What about phone-in bids? Who is responsible for live-streaming? And who sets the bid increments? And are we assuming all of these offers have the same deposit, closing date, and are unconditional?

The grass is always greener on the other side, especially when it’s in Australia. HERE is a 2018 blog post I wrote about Australian auctions.

So what’s my conclusion?

That we’re all screwed?

Not exactly.

I’m completely in favour of a change to allow the listing agent to divulge the terms of competing offers to buyer agents (and thus buyers), but only with the seller’s consent.

And I’ll let you in on a little secret folks: it’s already happening.

I don’t mean that John the listing agent is telling Bob the buyer agent what Cathy the buyer agent’s offer is, because John doesn’t like Cathy or because John likes Bob more than Cathy. I mean that it’s very common for a listing agent to say to a buyer agent, “Your offer is the second-highest, but the highest is conditional. Can you match the highest offer? If so, we’ll take your offer, so see if you can come up $10,000.”

I see no issue with that, and the only folks that would are those viewing real estate sales in a vacuum, and who believe that high prices are the fault of agents and their actions.

But then again, rules are rules, and if the rules say we can’t do that (which they don’t, exactly), then we can’t. And shouldn’t.

But we do.

Figure that one out…

So let’s update REBBA to reflect how agents are already doing business, but allow the seller to have the final say.

Does that “level the playing field,” or not?

The post Are Bidding Wars Coming To An End? appeared first on Toronto Realty Blog.

Originated from http://bit.ly/2SMf8Ez

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seanmalatesta · 6 years

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Breakthrough Results in Operations

Applying 4DX in Production and Operations Environments

Is execution more difficult than strategy? Nine out of ten business leaders say “yes.” If you are a leader with operational or production responsibility, you may feel an even higher sense of frustration when it comes to execution.

In the early 2000s, a group of us at Franklin Covey began working on the methodology known as The 4 Disciplines of Execution (4DX). Currently, the book by the same name is the most read book in the world on the topic of strategy execution and over 3,000 organizations and 200,000 teams are formally running 4DX.

Recently, we made an interesting finding. In our case studies, we kept seeing the biggest financial gains from implementing 4DX in the areas that could best be described as operations and production environments. The 4DX methodology has been successfully used in every type of industry, but it was these operational leaders who were having the greatest success.

We didn’t have a good explanation for this. Were these leaders using the 4DX approach in a different way than leaders in other industries? Did prior experience in continuous improvement efforts like Lean or 6 Sigma make them better implementers of the approach? Where there just bigger gains to be had? There was some evidence to support all these possibilities, but the more we talked to these operational leaders the more we noticed a pattern. It seemed all their stories and insights kept revolving around the same three challenges. These challenges were in producing results that required:

the effort of many people

process adoption

alignment across different functions

Regardless of whether these leaders were trying to improve cost, quality, production, or safety, they had to overcome these same three challenges. While these challenges are not unique to operational leaders, they are extraordinarily significant in the operational environment. In this article, we will share the stories and advice from top operational leaders who have utilized 4DX to address these challenges and produce results measured in millions and even billions of dollars. The specific names of the companies and their leaders that utilized 4DX are not disclosed to protect confidentiality.

1. Produce a result that requires the effort of many people

Getting a small team to focus and work on a new strategy is difficult. Moving a large team, a division, or even an entire organization to work on a new strategy can seem impossible. Almost without exception, the leaders we interviewed discussed this issue and applied 4DX to those results that required the efforts of a large number of people.

When Steve, vice president of manufacturing operations at a leading manufacturer of railroad equipment, improved cycle-count accuracy from 80% to 98%, it required the work of hundreds of people across multiple sites—each making and keeping small commitments. These commitments included activities like cycle-counting different items every week, creating new storage areas, and making signage where none had existed. The accumulation of these small activities by hundreds of people had an impact measured in millions of dollars in inventory and cost savings.

The idea of big results from small activities is a recurring theme. Casey, vice president of production at the North American oil producer that saved over a billion dollars by increasing plant availability from 72% to 100% while cutting costs by over 22%, says, “In our results, you don’t see these big elephant projects to save costs. It’s these small things that the operators and maintenance teams come up with. That’s what’s driven our costs down. Everybody on the team found those one or two little things that they could do to reduce costs. It’s just that one little thing every week.”

Steve, plant manager at a large agricultural-equipment manufacturing facility, said, “One of the most powerful things was the $50,000 to $100,000 projects that just kept popping out of the woodwork, and the next thing you know—all of these small projects add up to $2 million, $5 million, $10 million. It became more about a bunch of small projects—generating people’s ideas—getting their engagement. It ended up saving us millions and millions of dollars.”

2. Produce a result that requires improved process adoption

Although, we never suggested that our clients apply 4DX to their critical work processes—that is what they continue to do. According to Steve, plant manager, “Entropy is in every process. Every process you have, if you aren’t paying attention to it, is decaying. If you don’t pay attention to it long enough, it decays to the point where it completely breaks down.”

Mike, a global director of process improvement at a Fortune 500 supplier of paint products that improved first run compliance on complex paint formulas by 75%, pointed out that they had the processes in place, but as the pressure of daily, urgent activities intensified, process adherence slipped. Mike explained, “When people are stretched, they tend to take shortcuts, and they don’t follow process. What 4DX gave us was a mechanism to say we’re going to make sure we get these people to find the time to focus on the important stuff. It wasn’t lack of know-how. It’s that we weren’t able to allocate a significant amount of resources and time to get it done.”

In the case above, Mike and his organization were clear on a strategic path (they had the formal process right). The challenge was executing the process. 4DX gave them a method for maintaining focus on the most critical parts of their process and resulted in some of their largest gains.

“ 4DX gave them a method for maintaining focus on the most critical parts of their process and resulted in some of their largest gains.

—CHRIS MCCHESNEY

3. Produce a result that requires alignment across different functions

Almost all operations and production outcomes require coordinated efforts across different teams. This is even more difficult when those outcomes are strategic (outside the normal, day-to-day operation). Again, although folks at Franklin Covey don’t spend a lot of time talking about cross-functional cooperation with our clients implementing 4DX, it is almost always cited as one of the biggest benefits of running the process.

Colin, shift team lead at the North American oil producer, said, “4DX has really aligned our teams. We had trouble at times with just one crew alone getting on the same page. One thing that 4DX has done is actually align four crews together. I think it’s the first time we’ve actually got the four crews to agree on something.”

Trevor, a director responsible for production at the same North American oil producer, said, “The biggest effect that 4DX has had on us is that everybody understands the end goal. Everybody is paddling the canoe the same way. Everybody understands what the goal is and what their attachment is to that goal.”

One of the challenges of cross-functional alignment is keeping everyone tethered to the same outcome. The other equally daunting challenge is managing the handoff as work moves from group to group and tends to fall through the cracks. This issue was raised by almost every manufacturing leader we spoke with.

One leader of a large Midwestern manufacturing plant discussed the gray (or undefined) area between teams, such as between the manufacturing teams and the quality engineering teams. “Everyone has done what they think they should do, but if it doesn’t include the gray area, then you end up with a chasm between manufacturing engineering and quality engineering. If the handoff does not go right, whatever you’ve done falls into the chasm,” this leader explained.

We first observed that “work falling through the cracks” working with the top 50 developers of one of the largest military contracts in US history. We taught these developers the concepts behind 4DX and they immediately began building lead measures around critical handoff points between groups in their processes. We were shocked at the improvement in productivity.

One additional by-product

We had always known that 4DX was rooted in accountability, but the impact 4DX has on engagement snuck up on us. When working with Lean Six Sigma teams at large carpet manufacturer we noticed a big jump in employee engagement. This jump in engagement happened when the teams recognized they were winning.

Two months later, we saw the same jump in engagement at a bottling plant in Michigan, where union employees were skipping their lunch breaks because they were competing to accomplish team goals with the other shifts. We started to see it everywhere, but it is important to note that the jump in engagement didn’t happen immediately after we launched the process. This is a big idea: The jump in engagement came when the teams began making progress towards their wildly important goals.

Of all of the insights that came from interviewing production, and operations leaders, this quote from Steve, vice president of manufacturing operations at a leading manufacturer of railroad freight equipment, was our favorite: “Before 4DX, employees came to work, did their jobs, and then they went home. They could care less about anything else. They were walking by trash on the floor, they were walking by broken machines leaking oil, and they went home. Now, they really care! They are passionate about it—they own it. They took ownership through the 4DX process, and you see it in all of our team members. That’s what’s been really rewarding. We see that people care about it now.”

from Michael Hyatt, Your Virtual Mentor https://ift.tt/2PcAaI5 via IFTTT

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