endless reasons

anonymous asked:

What If one of the fakes had a high school reunion or something like that and just took the crew and it somehow ended in a shoot out with the cops.

Let’s just be clear, it’s not a pride thing. Geoff has never cared what people said about him, not outside a professional sense anyway; he knew exactly who he was, what he was capable of, even before he’d taken an entire city to its knees. So it’s not that he felt the need to prove himself, it’s just that there’s something particular about high school trauma, isn’t there? Something that lingers, even when it shouldn’t, something that emerges from even the most upstanding adults when thrown back together for a reunion, the bullies and the bullied, all desperate to show what they’ve become.

Geoff’s last high school was nothing like he’d ever been to before, a snobby upper-crust hellhole he was only in because his Ma’s third husband pulled some strings, and the other students were quick to point out just how much he didn’t belong. Between the tattoos and the smoking, the lazy looks and slow sneering drawl, it was always all too easy to label Geoff a loser, a drop out, trailer park trash everyone knew would be washing their cars one day. Never mind that he scored higher than most of his cohort even when skipping more or less every class, never mind that he is possibly the most well-read crime-lord in the country, back then he had an image and teenagers are relentless. Not that Geoff was all that phased even at the time, only a year or so away from the day he picked up his first gun and never looked back, but it’s the principal of the thing.

So when an invite forwards through from an email so old he’d forgotten he’d even made it Geoff has to laugh. Then pause, consider, hatch an utterly ridiculous idea, and laugh some more. Because he might not care, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t enjoy ruining the night for all the pathetic stuck-up nobodies he went to school with; rubbing your success in everyone’s faces is what reunions are for, after all. The fact that it has a theme, that it is masquerade of all things, really just cements Geoff’s resolve to drag his crew halfway across the country into one of the strangest nights of their lives.

Everyone knows the option to bring a guest to these events is, in reality, the offer to bring a romantic partner, singular, but it isn’t technically stated. There are no rules barring Geoff from RSVP-ing for 7, so that’s exactly what he does. Sure he receives a few increasingly less polite emails suggesting he’d been mistaken but he doesn’t even bother opening them, doesn’t try to clarify that he is bringing his friends, his family, not his entire harem. Let them talk; they’d do it anyway. Plus, it’s not like the Fake’s aren’t all entirely too pleased with the suggestion, cackling hyenas who spend the next few weeks laying it on thick, batting their eyes and blowing Geoff kisses, picking out increasingly absurd meet-cute stories to tell his scandalised classmates. Between creating new identities and playing dress up in masks and suits they couldn’t be happier.

Masks or not they catch every eye in the room when they make their entrance and why wouldn’t they; Geoff and his unusual request must have been the talk of the rumour mill and identity hidden or not clearly this must be Geoff, it’s not like anyone else brought along 6 dates. As stage whispers hit a dull roar it’s obvious no one was prepared for what they were seeing, perhaps imagined instead stained tank tops and a string of strung-out baby mama’s, not expensively tailored suits and an attractively refined entourage. Paying the noise no heed Geoff swans into the room with Jack looking elegant on one arm, Gavin at his most Ken-doll glamorous tucked under the other, flanked on either side by Ryan, Michael, Jeremy and Ray, all dressed to impress.

Shock and jealousy aren’t good looks on anyone, let alone rich brats turned elitist yuppies, so Geoff’s classmates behave just as poorly as he’d anticipated, years and newfound maturity doing nothing to stop the tittering laughter, the sneers and judgmental looks, fake pleasantry and condescending questions. But then, his crew didn’t exactly play nice with them either.

Ray and Jeremy immediately beeline to the food table and bar, respectively, and each set themselves up and settle in for the night; loud, obnoxious and tactlessly talking about everyone around them. When asked about themselves or their relationship to Geoff they’re both frustratingly vague, Jeremy chattering away without saying much at all and Ray simply staring people down until they can’t bear the tension.

Michael and Ryan set off together to explore the room but quickly separate to accommodate their vastly different methods of surveillance. Ryan skulks into the background, ducking numerous attempts to catch his interest in favour of fading into unlit corners and empty nooks, frightening the life out of anyone trying to slip away for some private time. Michael, on the other hand, seems determined to be the life of the party, cheerfully making conversation only to laugh in the face of every so-called achievement, ruffling feathers and causing major offence wherever he goes.

Gavin slinks off like a man on a mission and doesn’t come back for over an hour, offering no explanation for the absence beyond a dangerously self-satisfied smirk. His work becomes obvious soon enough anyway, once the yelling starts; Geoff’s two main high-school tormentors, mentioned only in passing stories over the years, simultaneously having huge, public, relationship-ending blow ups with each of their significant others. What are the odds? Across the hall Gavin laughs, all tinkling glass and sparkling charm, smoothly working the room like Michael’s mirror opposite.

Jack stays at Geoff’s side all night, hackles raised into something abnormally cold and unimpressed any time someone comes up to speak to them, protective instincts in full force no matter how often Geoff claims to be unaffected. He fills her in on all the worst gossip about those who approach, and as the night progresses and general unease begins to spread Jack mellows, sinking back into something sweet and mocking, somehow even more unsettling playing docile arm-candy than she was rabid guard dog.

Throughout the night the Fake AH Crew remain a key topic of every casual conversation; they might have been regardless, even this far from Los Santos no one can get enough of their scandals, but with the huge heist pulled just last week there was no way to avoid it, everyone has their two cents, their praise and condemnation. It’s too funny, the whole crew killing themselves trying not to break character, to laugh or correct or manipulate the conversation but all their self-control is well rewarded in the end.

Half the room removed their masks less than an hour into the night; too difficult to eat and talk and drink in, too vain to keep their hard earned looks covered, so it’s not at all strange when the Fake’s start to follow suit. Jeremy and Ray start it, the newest member and the one caught on camera the least often, casually dropping their masks mid-conversation. They each get a confused squint or two, a double glance, a few individuals trying to place them, remember how they’d met before, why they were so familiar.

Next came Gavin and Michael, having goaded each other out onto the dance-floor they were playing as much as they were moving to the music, laughing and grappling and generally making a bit of a scene. They snatch off each other’s masks as they play and the looks double, because alone they’re each distinctive but together, together, people have seen those faces together, somewhere they’ve seen them and so often together..

Last is Jack and Geoff, more graceful than their counterparts and moving with far more purpose they reveal their faces in the centre of the room and, like a party trick, they instantly catch the whole room’s attention. Out of context, in ones and twos where they don’t belong, the members of the FAHC could be mistaken but no one in the country would fail to recognise Ramsey and Patillo, the kingpin and his right hand, rulers of the most well-known gang in the US. And here they stand, casually mingling at a high school reunion.

In the calm before the storm the crew gravitates back towards one another, can almost see the cogs turning around them, the lightbulbs flickering on in a slow ripple spreading out across the room, disbelief and the first hint of horror swirling together as people start unconsciously reaching for their phones. As Ryan slips back out and wanders over, the last still masked, always masked, the chatter seems to crescendo then crash into something still and almost silent as a room full of entitled trust-fund babies recognise their own terror.

Finally uncovered and flanked by his family Geoff’s grin creeps across his face, slow and violent and more confirmation than anyone needed as he lets the oppressive tension sit for a long moment, arms spreading out to his sides like a magician revealing a clever trick before he breaks the silence; Surprise motherfuckers.

Guns are pulled from jackets and from there it’s all running and screaming, no honour or courage, just a stampede for the exits to the sound of cackling laughter and the occasional aimless pot-shot. The Fake’s aren’t looking for lives, not worth the hassle really, and this job certainly has no monetary reward beyond the wallets Geoff’s filthy little thieves have no doubt absconded with, but the fear in the air is delightful and even the sound of incoming sirens can’t ruin the mood. If anything it only hypes them up further, all savage grins and ramping excitement as they make for doors, reloading their weapons and pumping themselves up for a whole new police force to terrorise, Geoff’s magnificent little miscreants.

On the way out they pass a wall of yearbook photos, blown up large and captioned with names and all the old superlative awards. Ryan stumbles to a halt and snorts, snatching one off the wall and tucking it into his jacket to take back to the penthouse, though not before flashing the Lads a glance at that all too recognisable face, sending them into peals of screeching laughter as they pour out into the night. Geoffrey Fink; Least likely to succeed. 

You don’t have to sympathize with a character for it to be necessarily a good character nor do they have to be a morally good person for you to like them as a character. Instead good characters are characters you can cognitively empathize with - understand why they do the things they do. 

You can still like a movie/show/book with characters who are complete dregs on society because the writers or actors portray the character in a way where you recognize their humanity (as there are people out there who share traits with those types of characters). That doesn’t mean you’re problematic or condone any of their actions.

I feel like a good number of people on here don’t know how to distinguish between having empathy (not emotional) and sympathy for a character like that. 

anonymous asked:

Can someone help me understand the Ace Spectrum, please? I'm trying to make sense of... things and I'm so confused I don't know what to do.

Of course!

So, the place where I think most of us get confused on our ace identity journey is with separating out types of attraction, and also separating out attraction from sex drive. So let’s talk about those two things:

There are many kinds of attraction, but we’re going to talk about these: sexual, romantic, aesthetic, and sensual. The idea of the split attraction model is that you don’t have to be attracted to someone in more than one of the ways above at the same time to still experience real and powerful attraction of a specific kind. For most allosexual (non-ace spectrum) folks, they tend to experience all four modes of attraction at the same time, and in particular sexual, aesthetic, and sensual attraction are so deeply tied together that they may not realize they’re actually three separate things. In ace folks, those modes of attraction are often not experienced at the same time, and one of them (sexual attraction) may not ever be experienced at all.

Romantic attraction is, well, someone you’re romantically attracted to. You want to spend your time with them, you think about them when they’re gone, they inspire poetry in you, etc etc.

Sexual attraction is basically when you see a person and think, Wow, I’d hit that. This is the kind of attraction people on the ace spectrum either don’t experience at all or don’t experience as often/broadly as allosexual folks, so we’ll come back to this one in a bit.

Aesthetic attraction is when something hits you just right in the beauty department and you want to look at it for a while. In my own personal experience with both myself and my ace friends, this type of attraction is often (but by all means not always or in everyone) hyper-powered in aces. I’m ace, and lemme tell you, there are people I could stare at forever. But I have never once in my entire life looked at one of those people and thought Wow I’d climb them like a tree. Just never happened, probably never will, because I don’t actually experience sexual attraction.

This particular kind of attraction often trips up people who are struggling to understand asexuality, to which I’d suggest this amazing example I’ve seen floating round the interwebs: You ever go out hiking, and you come to the top of a mountain and you see this breathtaking view of other mountains and valleys stretched out for miles before you, and it’s so incredibly beautiful that you just sit right down and stare at it for a while, and maybe you decide to take an early lunch so you can enjoy the view some more because it’s that lovely. But do you at any point want to bang the mountains? No, you do not. (I mean, if you do, we’re not judging, but let’s assume for most folks the answer is no :-p) And that is the difference between aesthetic and sexual attraction.

Sensual attraction is when you see a person and want to touch or hug or cuddle them in a non-sexual way. Some aces don’t experience this at all. Others experience it quite a lot. Still others experience it somewhere in the middle. For some aces it’s tied exclusively to romantic attraction. For others it’s tied to affection in general (familial, platonic, romantic, etc.). For others, it’s tied to aesthetic attraction. There are all kinds of reasons you might experience sensual attraction, but it’s important to remember that it doesn’t have to be tied to sexual attraction in any way.

So, that’s the split attraction model. To make a personal example, I experience aesthetic attraction roughly every 0.4 seconds, romantic and sensual attraction very rarely (and not always together), and sexual attraction literally never (I’m all the way on the far end of the ace spectrum). And my aesthetic attractions don’t necessarily line up with my romantic or sensual attractions, and vice versa. But aces are many and varied and beautiful, and everyone’s going to experience these attractions differently.

The other thing I wanted to talk about is how sexual attraction =/= sex drive. Folks struggling to identify on the ace spectrum often think they’re not “allowed” to be ace because they masturbate, or they watch porn, or they’re experiencing sexual attraction to their current partner. But here’s the thing: all of those experiences are 100% valid and do not make you any less ace.

First, remember that asexuality, like all sexualities, is a spectrum. So you may be all the way on one end of the spectrum like me (never experiences sexual attraction under any circumstance), or you may be demisexual (only experiences sexual attraction with someone to whom you’ve formed a deep emotional relationship) gray ace (only experiences sexual attraction rarely, for reasons that may or may not involve emotional connection). Both of those orientations are valid asexual identities that involve sexual attraction, and experiencing sexual attraction in those ways does not invalidate your identity on the ace spectrum.

Second, it’s important to remember that sex drive doesn’t actually have to be tied in any way to sexual attraction. Think about the human body like a machine. Just because you’re ace doesn’t mean the pipes don’t still work, you know? You can still experience arousal, you can still enjoy orgasm, you can still enjoy porn, you can even still enjoy sex with other people. None of those things means you experience sexual attraction to the person(s) you’re watching or with. Many aces have extremely active sex drives. Many aces have robust solo sex lives. Many aces read or watch porn to get off (check out autochorissexual; it’s an identity many aces feel at home with, including me). And there are endless valid reasons why an ace person might have sex with someone (you want the emotional intimacy, you’re horny, it makes your partner happy and you don’t mind it at all, you’re wildly in love and want to express it physically, you’re sensually attracted and want the physical closeness, you want to get/get someone pregnant, it just plain feels good, etc. etc. etc.), not one of which need involve sexual attraction to the person you’re sleeping with. Of course, if you’re gray ace or demisexual, you may very well experience a deep sexual attraction to the person you’re with. The point is, aces can and do have sex drives, masturbate, watch porn, and have sex with other people. Although I feel it’s also important to point out here that it’s perfectly okay not to do any of these things; some aces are sex repulsed and/or touch-averse and that is 100% valid too.

Okay so this answer is getting crazy long now, and I feel like I’ve covered the general bases, so I’m going to wrap up. But if you have any other questions, please don’t hesitate to ask! Half the staff here is ace and we’re always happy to talk about it, either in broad strokes or via our own personal experiences.

Name ten things you wanna do before you die and then go do them. Name ten places you really wanna be before you die and then go to them. Name ten books you wanna read before you die and then go read them. Name ten songs you wanna hear again before you die, get all of your friends together and scream them, because right now all you have is time but someday that time will run out. That’s the only thing you can be absolutely certain about. Think of all the things that are wrong with your life and then fix them, think of all the things that you love about your life be thankful you are blessed with them, think of all the things that hold you back and realize that you don’t need them, think of all the mistakes you have made in your life, make sure that you never repeat them because right now all you have is time but someday that time will run out. That’s the only thing you can be absolutely certain about. Name ten thousand reasons why you never wanna die, go and tell someone who might’ve forgotten try to list the endless reasons why it’s good to be alive and then just smile for awhile about them, soon the sun will rise and another day will come, soon enough the sun will set, another day will be gone and right now all you have is time, but someday that time will run out.
—  Paul Baribeau, Ten Things

Vault Dweller AU

I’ve been sleepless 
in my head 
feels like they’re watching me 
people watching me aaahhhh

Mystery skulls - Losing my Mind

and when you start to feel the rush

Summary: dan’s never had sex with a boy and he wonders what it’s like.  phil says that he can show him. (literally just 2009 first time porn with minimal plot)

Word Count: 5.9k

Warnings: smut (blowjob, butt sex ya know the whole deal), swearing

A/N: i literally haven’t written in almost two months but for some reason i felt possessed to write practically 6k words of porn in two days so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ who even knows at this point tbh (title from Heaven in Hiding by Halsey)

ao3 link


Dan had never really been so sure about liking boys.  Sure, he had identified as bisexual for a few years now and he liked the way that felt.  It certainly seemed like a label that fit when he thought about all the cute boys he saw in movies and a couple that he had brief crushes on over the years.  But more often than not it seemed like the other boys his age were too brash and loud.  And yeah, most of the time he was like that, because after all, he was young too.  They were all just trying to figure things out and they would probably calm down with age.  

Nevertheless, this made Dan feel like he would never actually like a boy enough to want to date one.  He wanted someone that he could have an emotional connection with too, not just something physical like all the boys he met at parties seemed to want.

Keep reading

10

endless reasons to love dean winchester 

his enthusiasm for life’s little pleasures

2.13, 2.18, 4.05, 5.08, 7.09, 8.13, 9.13, 10.20, 11.12, 12.16

I received several requests for the way Dean takes pleasure in the little things, so this is for you, my anonymous friends. I think it’s something we can all agree that we love about him. What I love is that no matter what other crap is going on (and there’s always something), Dean always finds things to be happy about, no matter how small. And that never fails to bring a smile to my face. 

2

Happy 27th birthday to B.A.P’s humble leader. Happy birthday to the man who has given me endless amount of hope, to the man who has been the reason me and millions of others feel a sense of belonging. Happy birthday to our beloved angel, Bang Yongguk. Hopefully our great leader has the best day today, and every other day.