So Prof. Mark Reidl of Georgia Tech is the best kind of geek, and used some cool scripting to extract all the things on Wikipedia with plot summaries: movies, books, tv episodes, video games, etc. That’s a lot of plot summaries: 112,936, to be exact.
With a dataset this large, a neural network can achieve impressive results. Sure enough, when I trained this open-source neural network framework on just the titles alone, it consistently came up with titles that were both varied and (usually) plausible.
Below are some of my favorites, arranged roughly by apparent genre:
Titanic Buffalo Pirates: A Fight Dance Story The Bad Legend Conan the Pirate O Bullets Home Transformers Shurk Hat Dies! An Enemy of Bob (Homicide: Life on the Street) Cannibal Spy II American Hero: Fire of Crusty Lego Man Hunt Nancy Drew: The Last Day (film) Surf Crisis Legend of the Experience of Scarlet Freedom Damageboo American Midnight: Swear Dragon Problem
Under the Daleks Batman and Flancles: The Fun Tree The Legends of World Planet Bomberman’s Love The Enchanted Feed The Star Wars: The Santa Contact The Long Ninja Dove in the Air (film) The History of the Galaxy Bunny Lada City of the Stupid (film) Shy Castle Hamburger (Star Trek: The Next Generation) Swords and Batman: Summer Party ?
The Boordeeple (2011 film) A Dog’s Toy Friends Boop (Adventure Time) A Dinosaur Quest Colonel Corn (video game) Scooby-Drum New Bear Borky the Pig (film) Excellent Very Broken Christmas The Great Bother Cat (film) Happy Cat in the Yaku Wonder Fireman and Halloween Rules Big Can Flower Home The Green Yaurglar Pig Scooby-Doo'Wagon Traps (video game) Book Dog (film)
Terror Dog Tree Screaming Zombies of Florence The Trunkelling A Vampire Time for Monster Murder’s Eagle Frozen Bat (film) Haunted Place The Sheep of Evil Barney’s The Devil’s Treachery Merry Scroobers: Crown of Evil The Steel-Pounted Murder King The Shadow of Life of Very Worgy (film) The Mystical Booged of California
Market that Knave Spork at Bliss The White Soup An Indiana Office The Last Fish Show The Fish of Education
Restricted section (there were quite a few more of these)
Absilloved Lovers 2: Black Bearfly Dawn Horse Man Academy 5-R: Cowboy Sheeper Wydex Breed Bot 3: The Journey Kitchen Wild Bad Party 109 Pink Moon Indiscreet Maidman
And finally, a list of the most quintessential story titles, obtained by setting the creativity to near zero on a highly-trained network:
The Story of the Stranger (1994 film) The Last Day of the Story The Lost Princess (film) The Stranger (1994 film) The Last Star (1994 film) The Secret of the Story of the Stranger (1996 film) The Stranger (2014 film) The Story of the Stars The Story of the Stranger (1999 film) The Last Day of the Sun The Story of the Star Trek: The Secret of the Story of the Star Wars
I don’t even know. I was taking a walk today and this idea popped into my head. I swear I’m still writing the bookstore AU, too. Also, *pops confetti*, I hit 2k followers today! Who ARE all you guys? Anyway, this fluff/ridiculousness is for you. ~1.6k words, rated G. Sterek, of course.
The whole thing starts with Stiles really, really craving a meatball sub from the place across the street.
“God, someone shut him up,” Erica groans. They’re all kind of at their breaking point by now; they’ve been camped out in this meeting room all day, brainstorming. “He’s been talking about the same goddamn sandwich for seven and a half minutes now, and it’s making me hungry.”
“If only our ad campaign were about sandwiches, Stilinski would have it in the bag and we could all go home,” Isaac sighs.
From across the table, Derek rises abruptly to his feet and storms out. (Or maybe it’s just that Stiles always interprets everything Derek does as stormy. With those eyebrows, it’s hard not to.)
Stiles assumes he’s just gotten so fed up with them all that it’s either storm out or kill someone, and he’s just grateful Derek chose Door Number 1. It’s a good day not to get killed by Derek Hale.
Only, fifteen minutes later he comes back in. With a paper bag from the deli.
As soon as he gets within grabbing distance, Stiles practically collapses across the table in his haste to reach for it. “Oh my god, is that what I think it is?”
Derek holds it up over his head. “Who says this is for you? Maybe all your talk inspired me to go get a meatball sub of my own.”
“Oh, please. Like anyone with your abs eats meatball subs.” Stiles leaps to his feet on his swivel chair—because screw safety, Derek will catch him if he starts to topple over—and snatches the bag out of Derek’s grip. Derek doesn’t fight him for it very hard.
“Why don’t I get a meatball sub?” Erica whines, thumping her head down on her notebook. “Doesn’t anyone love me?”
Derek shrugs and takes his seat again. “You didn’t ask.”
“You just like Stilinski better,” she grumbles, and Derek just shrugs again.
Meanwhile, Stiles rips into the bag and takes a huge bite out of the gloriousness that is this sandwich. He can’t help throwing in a few theatrical moans just to taunt Erica, and she suitably rewards him with a glare of death across the table.
“Mmm,” Stiles says. “Derek, I love you so much, dude. Marry me.”
Instead of the grumpy eyebrows he expects, Derek meets his eye, leans back smugly in his chair, and says, “Okay.”
I feel so stupid sometimes because I fantasize too much about the people I like; I invent stories with them, I imagine entire days with them and how nice the future will be with pictures and letters and other tender things that makes a lot of sense in my mind. then the reality turn to be so much different and meaner and maybe the reason why it’s so difficult for me to accept it and letting people go it’s because I just want my future to be happy. in all my stories and castles I build inside of my mind, sadness just does not exist
POT noun, (pronounced: pē-oh-tē) A potential Sugar Daddy. This is a man you have not met yet, but are considering starting an arrangement with, or have been on a date with, but haven’t established anything solid yet. In short, a man who you think could potentially be your sugar daddy, but aren’t quite sure yet.
So you’ve checked out his profile, messaged with him a little, decided he could be the one for you; the main question asked now is - what do I do next?
The answer is simple, but for the Sugar Babies who are new, it’s often terrifying. Using the experience I’ve gotten after being a Sugar Baby for a while, I’ve put together a complete guide on how to handle that very first date, so that maybe it goes a little smoother than mine did! xo
Before You Meet
Get a feel for him over messaging/text - There’s nothing worse than being stuck for an hour or two with a man who has an attitude, is full of himself, or is just salty, that’s why it’s important to work out what type of person he is. ‣ Identifying Factors: - He has a sleezy username on SA: if his username is ‘CunnilingusMaster69′ or something along those lines, it’s blatantly obvious what’s he looking for. - His responses don’t mirror yours: think about conversational mirroring and use it to help you gauge the success of your conversation. It’s a form of social psychology that is pretty important to how anyone is perceived. If you’re typing out paragraph after paragraph and he is replying with short responses (or vice versa), it’s obvious one party is more interested than the other. - He asks for sexual photos: if he’s asking for sexual photos without even met with you for the first time, then he’s got one thing on his mind and it’s probably pay per play. However, most Sugar Daddy’s will ask for extra photo’s, to make sure you’re not catfishing them, so be ready for that request and have extra photo’s you can send that aren’t on your profile (I usually send one cute selfie and a second full body pic in a nice outfit.) Please note: Snapchat ‘puppy’ filter selfies are not appropriate to send as an additional selfie, maybe once you’ve met him a few times, but not prior to a first meet. You’re already younger than him, there is no need to make yourself seem even younger. - He asks you questions of a sexual nature (ie: your favorite position, sexual history, what you’re into, kinkiest desires, etc): there is absolutely no need for tacky sexual questions, especially if you two haven’t met before. It is important to understand that yes, sugaring is based on sex, sugaring is sex work, but it’s not only sex. Sugaring is about companionship, chemistry, new experiences, and then sex. If he requires a detailed list of what you will or will not do sexually just to meet you for the first time, then he is obviously not looking for a sugar arrangement, he’s just looking for pay per play (which is fine if pay per play is what you’re looking for, each sugar baby is entitled to her own wants and desires out of an arrangement).
Whenever an SD asks me “what i am willing to do”, i always reply with this. It’s elegant, polite, and successfully moves the conversation to other topics.
Get as many details about him as you can - Meeting someone off the internet is always a little unnerving, especially when it’s a man twice or three times your age. To feel safer, ask for as many details from him as you can, then reverse search the information you have (ie: his phone number, email, name, etc.) to find out his address, income, family members, and other information of the sort. The same goes with photo’s, reverse search them to find out company info, criminal history, and if he’s on any other sites (this helps cross-check age, location, and other facts he has listed on his profile).
Choose an identity and stick to it - Think about the type of person you want to convey (ie: the struggling but motivated university student, the driven twenty-something, the educated single mother, the urban socialite, etc) and build yourself up around that image. If you don’t feel comfortable using your real name with POT’s, use a fake name. Invent fake facts and stories or recall certain facts and stories from your life that correspond to the type of person you want to be. Remember, the more you have, the better. Most POT’s will ask you to some extent, some more than others, about you (ie: your job, your likes/dislikes, your upbringing, your dreams/aspirations, your background, your parents/their occupation, etc) and you will need to be prepared to answer. On the other hand, be prepped with questions to ask him, this date is about getting to know each other, it’s a waste of time if you leave knowing nothing about him.
If you’re struggling with coming up with questions, check out this and this, there’s a large variety of questions that you could use.
Make sure he understands that absolutely nothing sexual will happen on this date - There should be no sex on a first date, absolutely nothing sexual. If your POT believes that coffee/lunch/dinner/drinks and a hundred dollars should equal sex in the hotel down the block, then you leave him right there and then. We are ladies looking for gentlemen with the means to provide for us and support us. If he’s only interested in sex in exchange for money, then he’s looking for an escort, not a sugar baby. (Note: if sex in exchange for money is what you’re looking for, then go right ahead and make that cash, every girl is allowed to make her own choices!)
Agree to meet in a PUBLIC place - Always meet for the first time in a public place (A restaurant, coffee shop, bar, hotel lounge/lobby, etc) because your safety and comfort comes first! If he invites you up to his hotel room for a drink, decline by saying that is something you would love to do sometime, but would feel better meeting in a public space first. If you starts arguing or does not agree to this, drop him. You don’t need to waste your time on an asshole like him. ‣
- Have your own transportation to and from your meet! Do not get into his car thinking you’ll save a little cash, even if he was kind and definitely legitimate! Personally: I don’t let POT’s get me an Uber home either, I don’t feel comfortable with them knowing my exact address.
Ask for a gift - While this isn’t something that is necessary to do, it’s something that I do. If you’re aiming for a gift, make sure to ask after you have made plans to meet or at least a day before you meet, this gives the POT time to either go shopping for you or go to an ATM for some cash. If you’re aiming for travel compensation, then feel free to ask a few hours before or even during the date, travel compensation is something usually all POT’s will agree to. This or this are the ways I use to ask, either one usually work flawlessly. ‣Keep in mind
It is not a red flag if he declines to bring you a gift! At this point in your relationship, he owes you just as much as you owe him, which is nothing. If he declines, just say that’s it’s okay and then (if you still want a little cash) try the travel compensation method.
Text to confirm - One of the worst things is dolling yourself up and then coming out to meet, only to find that your POT actually couldn’t make it. That’s why it’s important to confirm your meeting a few hours before in a quick little text.
Stay SAFE - Safety has always and will always be the number one thing in the sugar bowl which is why you need to make sure you have at least one person who know’s who you’re meeting, where, and when. If you don’t feel comfortable telling anyone you know in real life, message me and I will gladly be your safety contact. In addition to having a safety contact, it is always a good idea to carry around a bottle of mace with you, for creepy POT’s and creepy men in general.
During Your Meet
Make an entrance - Often,the first part of the conversation happens before you open your mouth, sometimes it happens before you’ve even laid eyes on them. When you enter any room, have your head up and your shoulders down. Don’t strut, but walk gracefully, swaying your hips gently, you can even look up videos of models on catwalks and learn how to walk like they do. Be dramatic, walk like you’re the center of attention - you’re a sugar baby: you’re young, stunning, and seductive. Pause in the entrance and survey the room slowly, let your eyes to travel from one side of the room to the other, until you locate your POT. It may sound a little silly, but a proper entrance will captivate anyone, especially your POT. Knowing how to walk properly and make an entrance is useful in practically every aspect of your life, not just in sugaring.
Keep the focus on them -I’ve noticed that POT’s (and SD’s in general really)love to talk about themselves, some SB’s will even go as far as to say that these men don’t care about the things you say unless it directly relates to them (in my experience this isn’t always true, it depends on the man). Try to find a way to refocus the conversation about him, you will easily become his favorite person to speak to. ‣Additionally: - If he shows pride, you give praise. If he says something, then pauses, and looks at you significantly, he’s waiting for the applause. Be there to give it to him. You don’t even have to think what he did was impressive. You just have to be there ready to dispense a pat on the back
Do not be over dramatic, smile, look impressed, and stroke his ego.
Pay attention when he speaks - Be engaged in the conversation:ask questions to further your understanding of the topic, make comments to indicate that you are paying attention, laugh a little to signal that you are having fun, smile to show that you enjoy being in his company, and make eye contact! If you look a person in the eye, it signals that you not only hear what they’re saying but are interested in it. If you have to look away do it slowly, this reinforces your interest and enjoyment of what you’re hearing.
Don’t fidget - It ruins your credibility. Often, stillness is compared with integrity. Those that can look someone in the eye and sit still are usually believed over those that try to say something while squirming in their seat. It’s important to have good posture as well, don’t slump in your seat and if you do, catch yourself and correct your posture. ‣ Don’t worry: - Your hair looks fine, your clothing fits you well, and your phone will not explode if you don’t check it for an hour. Your main focus should be your POT, not the little things about your appearance.
Relax - You might be a little nervous over the first date, but chances are, he probably is too! Some SD’s are nervous the first time meeting, this might be due to the fact that you’re much younger than he is or he might be downright intimidated because of your looks. Your job is to make him feel at ease and the easiest way to help him feel at ease is to be at ease yourself. People play off each other’s energies and your body language speaks volumes, so try your best to just relax.
End on a good note - End the date with a hug or a handshake (or a kiss on the cheek, if you like him), something physical so that you touch and it leaves him wanting a little more. If you went out for lunch/dinner, tell him how thankful you are for taking you out, how much you loved the food, and how he has great taste in restaurants.
After Your Meet
Assessing him - A person’s appearance and demeanor speaks volumes about them. Observe not his wallet, his cufflinks, or his shoes, but his mannerisms, his eloquence, and his overall conduct. Many good sugar daddies may not look the part, but they will act it. There’s no forcing chemistry, so it’s best to figure that out right away before delving deeper.
‣ Questions to think about: - Does he ask you first what you want to eat? -
Is he interested in what you’re saying?
How does he talk about his family, his employees?
Is he nice to the waitstaff?
How much is he tipping?
- Were your personalities compatible? - Did you have a lot in common? - Was it easy to hold a conversation with him, or were there awkward silences?
- Is this someone you’d be comfortable being seen in public with, going on vacations with, and generally spending time with?
Send a follow up text - If the date went well, shortly after you meet (a few hours or a day, at most), send the POT/SD a text saying that it was a pleasure meeting him and you’d love to see him again. When (or if) he responds, you might be able to schedule your next date!
Think about your loses - If the date didn’t go so well, you got a free coffee/lunch/dinner/gift. If your POT contacts you and asks you out again, decline politely and wish him luck finding what he’s looking for.
Allowance Talk - Yes Or No?
There’s a lot of disagreement on whether or not you should speak about allowance with your POT on a first date. I’ve had POT’s bring up numbers over text/on the phone/email (prior to meeting and after meeting) and during coffee/lunch/dinner/drinks. In my opinion, let him bring up the allowance talk.
If he does, express your desires concerning allowances, gifts, and how the arrangement will work. Most arrangements end due to schedule conflicts and misunderstanding expectations, be clear about what you want.
If he doesn’t, that’s completely fine too. You’ll most likely speak about it on your second date or over some electronic format.
If you touch on the subject but you notice he’s not too keen on delving into it at the moment, leave it alone. This sends your POT the message that you’re more interested in a suitable arrangement than the money, as well as that you are nowhere near desperate and while you are interested in him, not overly so. This lack of overt interest gives you more control of the relationship from the get-go. It also shows that he cannot control you or gain your interest with his money alone. This makes it easier for you to discuss the terms of the relationship, set boundaries, and negotiate your allowance later on.
What to Wear
Men are visual creatures, they love eye-catching arm candy, but most prefer elegance or casual classy to outright flashy. However, showing all your goods on the first meeting is not a good idea. Choose one thing to show off, this leaves his imagining and wanting more. Keep in mind where you’re meeting, as well. There’s no need to go all out if you’re just meeting for coffee.
If you’re meeting for coffee - Jeans and a pretty blouse will be just fine, top it off with flats or boots and you’ll be good to go. If it’s warmer out, a sundress is perfectly acceptable too.
‣Keep in mind - Meeting a POT for the first time in shorts is not appropriate, there is no need to play up the age difference between the two of you, even if it is hot outside.
If you’re meeting for lunch/dinner/drinks - A formfitting dress will do you good, especially if it’s dinner or drinks. Complete the look with a nice pair of heels and some jewelry, if you’re having trouble figuring out which jewelry to wear with what, check out this!
Makeup - Keep the makeup light and natural, opt for neutral colors rather than darker ones. Get your nails done, fill in your brows, foundation, mascara, light colored eye shadow, and lipstick/lip-gloss is all you’ll need. I prefer to top up my look with a slightly red nude lip (since my lips are full and the color makes them pop more), even though most SB’s suggest to stay away from all red’s.
So there you have it dolls, an ultimate guide to POT dates. Feel free to add on your own tips! Keep sugaring, dolly xoxo
Nancy Drew: The Last Day - Can Nancy Drew solve the Case of the Malevolent Moon before time runs out?
[Pictured: Nancy Drew stands in the clock tower from Majora’s Mask holding an ocarina. Outside, the evil moon hangs low in the sky and the Skull Kid watches from the background.]
Market That Knave - Dastardly villains, dashing makeovers!
[Pictured: A printed photo of Snidely Whiplash labeled “Before” lies on top of an unseen photo labeled “After”.]
Murder’s Eagle -
The most brutal and bizarre bird in America!
[Pictured: A menacing eagle flies while holding a chainsaw.]
American Midnight: Swear Dragon -
Are you a bad enough dragon to save the city from ninja related crime?
[Pictured: In a dark city street, a humanoid dragon takes down a sword wielding ninja using RADICAL SKATEBOARD STUNTS while breathing a cartoon swear as a fireball. More ninja goons approach from all sides. A label at the bottom says “Swear Enix“.]
Y’all are all having your giggles about Kellyanne Conway and the Bowling Green Massacre. Well, I got news for y’all; I WAS THERE. Now, sit back and let me lay down some FACTS for y’all.
The year was 2011. The place; Bowling Green, KY. Obama had just taken all of the guns and declared Islam the official religion of the USA. Speaking English was forbidden; only Spanish and Arabic were allowed.
I was sent to one of the Al Qaeda re-education camps in Bowling Green, KY. The reanimated corpse of Osama Bin Ladin was there to turn us into Muslims. His evil plan might’ve worked…if it hadn’t been for Frederick Douglass. He came back to life to save us all. Still, many good Americans died there. Maybe a million, million and a half. Too bad nobody had numbers.
Thank you, Kellyanne Conway, for educating the people on this important historical event that totally happened and that I totally didn’t just invent a story about.
We need to have a serious talk about this Gilmore Girls fic.
As Will Smith once said, OK. Here’s the situation.
Someone is writing The Subsect. Jess’s novel. I’m frankly amazed that in all the years of online Gilmore Girls fandom that no one has attempted to do this before, and it’s entirely possible that someone has. But I’m too new to this fandom to know, and if someone tried to write The Subsect before, it probably wasn’t like this story.
Because here’s the thing. This version of The Subsect, in its current online metafictional form, is fucking amazing. It’s so good that I thought, after a first pass, that it might actually be very good, very well-placed guerrilla marketing for the revival. But I don’t think it is. I think it’s just a fic. Written by some wicked smart person somewhere out there.
If you want to read it, it’s here. The single most devastating thing about it, so far, is that it’s only two chapters long.
I have many thoughts about this story, but let’s start at the beginning, in the first chapter.
And as a note, the following contains many spoilers, so if you want to remain unspoiled in regards to this story – however filthy and corrupted your mind may already be – stop reading now, go read the damn first chapter of The Subsect, and then come back and read this.
Thoughts on the first chapter of the fanfictional Subsect, in no particular order. Here come some bullet points…
The first chapter is set in New York City, where we find Jess growing up as a youthful hoodlum and accomplished card shark, as you would expect. The level of accurate, ultra-specific detail about NYC in this story, though, is mind-boggling. Subway stops. The names of businesses. Geography. Every word of it – with a couple of fascinating exceptions, which I’ll talk about – is real. And it’s not just accurate in general. It’s accurate to the period of the story. An example: At some point, the narrator – called J., but I’ll presume it’s Jess – mentions a bookstore near Columbia University named Labyrinth. It’s real, but it’s now under new ownership and has a new name. You’d never know this, ever, unless you went to that bookstore before it was renamed. So whoever’s writing this is a New Yorker and has been for a while, or they’re a research freak of truly epic and admirable proportions.
The story contains a freakishly contextual reference to Italian opera, and an ominous quote from Julius Caesar in Latin that both foreshadows the conflict later in the chapter and harkens back to Jess’s growing affinity for gambling. This is not garden-variety fanfic, friends.
The story invents a completely genius plot device that has Jess leaving NYC for Stars Hollow not just because he’s bad and is doing bad things — although he is and does, per cannon and the details of this story — but he also leaves the city in the wake of 9/11. The craziest thing about this? It totally works. The episode where Jess steps off the bus in Stars Hollow aired on October 20, 2001.
There are two references in this story that are clearly fictionalized. (And there may be more. I just haven’t spotted them yet.) The first one is about Liz working at Shrafft’s as a waitress. Newsflash: There is no Schrafft’s anywhere in NYC, and there hasn’t been since maybe the 1970s. So why the fictional reference amidst all this hard, cold, New York-y reality? Well, here’s the deal. As the story mentions, the Scrafft’s where Liz works is on 79th Street, and there was indeed a Schrafft’s restaurant on East 79th Street, though it was closed long before the action of this story takes place, and has now been torn down. But this particular Schrafft’s is notable because it was mentioned in a J.D. Salinger novella called Raise High the Roofbeam. Who would write that kind of obscure reference into a novel that’s otherwise positioned as a thinly veiled memoir? Why, your favorite pretentious literature nerd and mine: Jess Fucking Mariano. In fact this reference breaks the otherwise factual fabric of the story. It fucks up everything that’s been so meticulously plotted before and after it — including the piece’s careful attention to geography. As Liz gets off her shift at the fictional Schrafft’s, she beelines it for the 2 train to head uptown to her next job in the Bronx. Well, the Salinger Scrafft’s was on the East Side of Manhattan, where there is certainly no 2 train. The point of all this? To make you, dear reader, believe in your soul of souls that Jess Mariano wrote this story. If he wasn’t a fictional character on TV show, I might think that he actually did. The other fictional reference is when J. describes being robbed and beat up in a park in Bensonhurst by the Jones Street Boys, who are a fictional gang in the video game The Warriors.
It’s also worth mentioning that the chapter’s opening language is so very, very true to Jess’ character. The sense of poetic surreality. The ten-cent words. The thin veil of fiction over what’s clearly a memoir. It is the kind of stuff that first-time dude novelists do when they’ve spent too much time reading the beats. The result? It’s all weirdly convincing. I don’t just believe that Jess wrote this story. I believe that there is, in fact, a Jess. So how did we get here? Where the best piece of metafiction I’ve read all year is a Gilmore Girls fanfic? Tell me that.
I have more to say about this story. But I need to re-read the second chapter first and this post is really long and annoying, so I’ll stop.
Warnings: Underage drinking, drug use, sensuality, sexual implications, and language
A/N: Y/O/B/F/N= your other best friend’s name
“Why didn’t I skip class today?” Mandy groaned, throwing her head back.
“Because if you got caught skipping again, you would get suspended…again,” Lip muttered behind her.
They were sitting in their eighth period British Lit class while Mr. O’Neil talked about some dead poet. Lip was only paying half attention since he already knew most of the information and he got good grades without even trying. He had a few more important things on his mind like Fiona and his other siblings and the trouble he and Ian could get into over the weekend. However, the other kids in the class could hardly afford zoning out in the way he did.
“…and that is how Edgar Allen Poe invented the modern detective story,” Mr. O’Neil concluded with a small smile under his wiry gray mustache. “Now, before you leave, I have to return your midterm essays.”
“What’s the point? I know I failed,” Mandy muttered.
“You never know. You could’ve gotten a D this time.”
Lip smirked as Mandy turned around to slap his arm. It stung a little, but Lip laughed it off.
“We can’t all be weird geniuses like you.”
“Most of you did not seem to grasp the concept I was looking for, which is confusing since all I requested was for you to dissect and analyze a piece of literature we previously discussed in class,” Mr. O’Neil said as he began handing back papers.
A lot of the kids rolled their eyes, laughed, or groaned when they received their papers. It took a minute for Mr. O’Neil to get to Mandy and Lip.
“I expect more from you, Miss Milkovich,” Mr. O’Neil said.
“Have you met my brothers?” Mandy retorted.
Mr. O’Neil cast a distaste look in her direction, but recovered a little as he handed Lip his paper. “Very good work, Mr. Gallagher.”
“Thank you, Mr. O’Neil,” Lip said.
Scrawled on top of his paper was a 90 along with the comment “Good work, Mr. Gallagher. Your input was interesting but the dissections were a bit off.”
“Not bad, Gallagher,” Mandy muttered.
Lip couldn’t help but feel a little proud of himself. He was always the smartest person in the room, even though the room primarily consisted of idiots. It was nice to be reminded of it.
“Miss Y/L/N, I was quite impressed with your work. I have never read such original or thoughtful input on Emily Dickinson.”
The girl had a small, wan smile on her lips as she accepted her paper. “Thanks, Mr. O’Neil.”
“In fact, you scored the highest on this assignment.”
Y/N smiled shyly yet again and muttered a polite “thanks” to the teacher as she placed her essay neatly in her English folder.
“Looks like Little Miss Perfect beat you out,” Mandy teased in a whisper.
“I’ll let her have it, this is probably the only pleasure she gets out of life besides reading and studying all the time,” Lip muttered.
Y/N Y/L/N had to be the most innocent girl Lip had ever encountered and she was also his biggest competition when it came to academic standing. She was smart as a whip, but she didn’t flaunt it like Lip did sometimes. In fact, she mostly kept to herself, save for the two girls Lip saw her hanging around. Y/N was every parent’s wet dream: quiet, polite, kind, and a bit of an over achiever. She was the class president, captain of the debate team, and captain of the girl’s tennis team. In fact, the only trouble she probably got in was for jaywalking. Lip didn’t really have anything against her but he also didn’t really like competition.
Finally, Mr. O’Neill released them, and Mandy and Lip were the first two out of the classroom.
“Just admit it, Lip, you don’t like that Goody Two Shoes beat you out for the highest grade,” Mandy said.
“It’s just a stupid essay, Mandy, besides, getting good grades is probably the only way Y/N could experience an orgasm,” Lip said.
Mandy burst out laughing and Lip smirked deeply. “That is true, I don’t think Y/N would know what to do with a dick if she ever saw one.” As Mandy and Lip laughed, they were interrupted by someone running into Lip.
“Hey, watch where the f–ck you’re going,” he snapped.
“Oh, sorry!” Y/N squeaked.
Lip instantly regretted his words when he saw how Y/N clutched her book to her chest. “It’s fine, forget about it.” “Hey, Y/N,” Mandy said.
“Hey, Mandy.” Y/N readjusted the strap of her messenger bag. “Have any fun plans for this weekend?”
“I might go to a party or two. You?”
“I am keeping my options open.”
“Y/N!” Y/B/F/N yelled from across the hallway.
Y/N sighed a little. “I have to go, sorry about running into you like that, Lip.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Y/N hurried off to meet her friend on the other end of the hallway and they immediately began giggling together. Y/B/F/N said something to Y/N that made her eyes widen and take a quick glance at Lip. When she saw that he was looking at her, she quickly turned back around to her friend, who began snickering.
“Hello, earth to Lip?” Ian asked.
“What?” He turned to face Ian and Mandy.
“I was asking if we were still going to Rose Martin’s party tonight,” Ian said.
“Why wouldn’t we be?”
“Because it’s in Old Town and we’re south side trash.”
“Hey, we’re only trash if we think we’re trash, so stop thinking we’re trash,” Lip said.
“Fine. Now tell me, what had you so distracted that you couldn’t answer me?” Ian asked.
Mandy smirked. “It was because of her wasn’t it?”
“Who?” Ian asked.
“Shut up, Mandy,” Lip said.
“Y/N, Lip’s got a thing for her,” Mandy said.
“Y/N Y/L/N? The same girl who cried when Eddie Carver kicked a baby rabbit over the school fence?” Ian asked.
“That was third grade,” Lip said. “And I don’t like her like that.” “Why not? Because she’s too good for you?” Ian teased.
“No, because she’s too f-cking innocent. It would be like being with a little kid all the time,” Lip muttered.
“I would believe you if you hadn’t been eye-f-cking her a second ago.”
Lip didn’t respond, and he didn’t really know why he had gotten so defensive when Ian and Mandy began suggesting that he liked Y/N. He barely spoke to her except in passing and there was no way she would go for a Gallagher of all people. Somehow, he still found himself attracted to her innocent, shy nature. He would ruin her and she didn’t deserve that.
Late that night, the party was in full swing at Rose Martin’s penthouse in Old Town, Chicago. Her father had won the lottery two months ago, so the penthouse was filled with gaudy art, strange mini statues that were considered art, and stainless, techy everything. Waka Flocka’s “It’s A Party” was blasting through the speakers as teenagers grinded to the beat throughout the penthouse. In the kitchen, a group of people were playing drinking games; the bathroom was dedicated to cocaine; the bedrooms were used for coitus; and the balcony was for the cigarette and pot smokers. Lip, Ian, and Mandy were in the living room in the middle of the chaos, dancing as they drank. Lip was near the threshold of being drunk, but was still in the place where the colorful lights didn’t transfix him and he still had control of himself.
“This is the best night ever!” Mandy shouted over the music.
Ian and Lip shouted in response before they toasted her words and downed the vodka in their cups. It went down smooth since Rose could afford not to scrimp on the alcohol anymore.
“I love Rose Martin!” Ian exclaimed.
“You can’t, you don’t swing that way!” Lip shouted back.
Lip and Mandy burst out laughing. In the midst of the madness, Mandy ended up grinding with some guy and Ian disappeared. Lip ended up wandering out of the living room and went outside to light up a cigarette. The sky was completely ink black with a few stars scattered in the mix. A few people were smoking pot or cigarettes around the balcony. In the corner was a group of girls wearing short dresses and skirts, giggling. One of them looked extremely familiar to Lip but he couldn’t put his finger on it. She flipped her y/hc ponytail and burst out laughing at something before turning around. Lip nearly dropped his cigarette.
“Y/N?” he whispered.
She was wearing an oversized blue button down shirt that managed to accentuate her curves with a pair of black over the knee boots. Her hair was pulled in a ponytail with a few strands falling around her face, which was made up in a tasteful fashion with gold eyeshadow bringing out her y/e/c eyes and blush to compliment her skin tone. She was holding a plastic cup filled with white wine and her friends had sneaky smiles on their faces when they saw Lip.
“Lip!” Y/N stumbled over to him, managing not to spill a drop of her wine. “It’s so good to see you.”
“What are you doing here?” Lip asked.
“Drinking.” Y/N took a long swig of her drink to prove her point.
“I can see that, it’s just, this isn’t really your scene.”
“I guess you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” She managed to smolder at him which managed to both amuse and arose Lip at the same time.
“How many of those have you had?” Lip asked.
“Don’t worry about it, Dad, I can handle my alcohol, see?” Y/N downed the rest of her wine and smiled.
“Maybe you should go back to your friends.”
“I’m sick of them, I want to talk to you.” Y/N leaned more of her weight into Lip and he paused to grab her.
He kept his lit cigarette between his lips as he pulled her to stand upright. “Fine, let’s talk.”
“Can I try one of those?”
“Why would you want to smoke?” Lip asked.
“Because I can.”
Lip looked at her skeptically before handing her cigarette and lighting it for her. Of course, Y/N almost immediately began coughing, making everyone turn to look at her and Lip. Lip shook his head as he patted her back.
“You have to inhale deeper before you exhale, like this.” Lip showed her and Y/N nodded before following his lead. “See, it’s easy.”
“Thanks,” Y/N said.
“Geez, I feel like I’m corrupting you.”
“You’re not. I’ve done a lot more than you think I have.”
“What does that mean?”
Unfortunately, Lip was interrupted by the strains of “Hips Don’t Lie” coming from inside. Y/N squealed. “I love this song!”
She tossed her cigarette down and ground it out with her toe before hurrying inside.
“Y/N.” Lip got rid of his cigarette as well and followed Y/N’s lead.
He almost immediately lost her but quickly spotted her dancing with Ian. They had created some sort of salsa two-step that mostly consisted of Ian twirling Y/N around and dipping her. Though Lip trusted Ian, he couldn’t help but feel protective over Y/N. It was strange how worrying about her sobered him up.
“You’re being ridiculous; you barely know her,” he hissed to himself.
He decided he needed another drink and headed into the kitchen. That’s where he found Mandy, mixing drinks at the kitchen counter while another group of people played flip cup.
“Hey, stranger,” Mandy said as she poured a drink into a glass.
“What made you hide out in here?” “Tyler Sanders’ hands kept wandering to places I did not want them to. I decided to see how good of a bartender I am.” Mandy handed him the glass she just poured.
“Thanks.” He took a sip. “Not bad, what is it?”
“Of course. Did you know that Y/N was coming?”
“No, but I saw Y/O/B/F/N leave the bathroom wiping her nose and figured Y/N had to be around somewhere. She is full of surprises.”
“Yeah,” Lip muttered.
“Do I need to make you another drink?”
“That sour look on your face wouldn’t have anything to do with Y/N being into the party scene, right?”
“Not really, it’s just weird seeing her drunk.”
“I like it, it makes her more relatable. She’s not better than either of us.”
“Of course she’s not. She goes to a Chicago public school.”
“True, but maybe you’re so weirded out by it because you liked the idea of her being super innocent and you don’t like that you can’t be her first, well, whatever.”
He hated how right Mandy was sometimes. While it was kind of cool to see Y/N let lose, Lip kind of liked the idea of making her do something bad just for him. He had no idea when those feelings started but seeing her act so drunk was bringing them out.
After a couple more drinks, he and Mandy made their way back into the living room, where Y/N and Ian were the center of attention. It made sense since the openly gay Gallagher was grinding with the supposed sweetheart of the south side.
“Y/N’s got moves,” Mandy said.
“Uh huh,” Lip said, trying to ignore the tinges of jealousy creeping up on him.
However, everything came to a head when Y/N pulled Ian close and they began making out, causing everyone to scream and yell. That was the last straw. Lip quickly broke them up, much to the crowd’s chagrin.
“What the hell, Lip?” Ian demanded.
“Ian, you don’t know what you’re doing, you’re drunk and you have a boyfriend,” Lip hissed.
“Not really, besides, Y/N’s a good kisser. Were you jealous?” Ian shot back.
“Jealous? Why would you be jealous?” Y/N slurred. Then she grinned. “You wanna dance with me, Lip?”
She wrapped her arms around Lip’s neck and leaned into him. Lip’s arms immediately wrapped around her waist out of instinct but he didn’t start dancing. Mandy and Ian had begun dancing together somewhere else in the room.
“Y/N, you’re drunk.”
“I wanna dance.” She turned around in Lip’s arms and began grinding against him, leaning her head against his chest.
Lip gulped before hesitantly grinding with her, holding her hips and keeping her pressed against him. He didn’t know what got into him but he began kissing down the side of her neck. Then, he turned her to face him and grabbed her face in his hands and really looked at her. Her eyes were completely dilated but she was so beautiful.
“I can’t do this.”
“Do what? Dance with me?” Y/N teased.
“Not just that, it’s, you’re too perfect. You deserve better than this, better than me.”
Lip moved to pull away from Y/N, but she grabbed him. Her eyes held a deep sincerity in them, albeit they were extremely dilated.
“You’re perfect,” she said with a large smile.
“Yes, but I know that you’re funny, really smart, and loyal, a little impulsive, and a bit self-destructive. And you’re daring and really, really, really hot,” Y/N said.
“You really think all that about me?”
Y/N nodded. “Ever since second grade, but I thought I wasn’t cool enough for you, but I do go out sometimes and I have made many questionable decisions.”
Lip had a lot of questions, a majority of which had to do with what questionable decisions Y/N had made. But, all he could think about was how Y/N thought she wasn’t good enough for him.
“You’re cool in your own way.”
“Now that’s a load of bullsh-t.” Y/N started laughing, a sound that made Lip smile.
He cupped her face in his hands again and slowly, she stopped laughing. Lip stayed quiet and leaned towards her slowly. Y/N closed her eyes, awaiting to be kissed only to be surprised when Lip kissed her on her forehead.
“You missed,” Y/N said.
“No. I want you to remember the first time I kiss you and you’re way too sh-tfaced to do that right now. If you still feel the same way about me when you’re sober, we can pick up where we left off.”
“But I want you now. I promise I won’t regret it.”
Lip didn’t listen to any of her protests as the night went on. So, they continued dancing, earning winks and rude gestures from Ian and Mandy. When the party was over, Lip took Y/N home to make sure she was safe.
“But who’s gonna walk you home?” Y/N asked as Lip helped her walk up the steps.
“Why do you get to walk yourself home and not me?”
“For one thing, I wouldn’t fall if you let go of my shoulders,” Lip said.
Y/N huffed and leaned against her front door. Lip fished her keys out of her purse and unlocked the door for her.
“All right, now be quiet. The last thing we need is your parents coming after me.”
Y/N nodded and wrapped her arms around Lip’s neck, giggling quietly. Before Lip could stop her, she pressed a sloppy kiss to his cheek before pulling away. “Good night, Lip.”
She slipped into her house and Lip closed the door behind her.
All he could do now was pray that she felt the same way about him in the morning.
don’t waste your time on this “grundy’s husband killed Jason” theory bc she’s a big fat liar and invented this story so she could guilt trip archie in staying with her. she knew he was going to leave her but you know he’s a sensitive boy he’s not going to dumb a woman who was abused??? who opened up like that ???her husband does not exist she’s just a pedophile it’s not that deep.
So is the Corner Witch the only witch allowed at Elsewhere? Is there some kind of witch quota? Do they have to be Corner Witches, specifically? I ask because I may or may not be totally down with Elsewhere U, but I may or may not also a witch with more herbs and rocks than any one person really needs, and I don't want to step on anyone(thing?)'s toes. Maybe there's a part time attendance option?
Given that the student make-up of Elsewhere U isn’t too far outside of what it is for the average university, there’s a handful of witches in every year (although at Elsewhere U they’re perhaps more powerful, either bc of the proximity of the Elsewhere or simply the knowledge on offer). No quota!
The Cornerwitch (more a title than in individual) is an entity bound by choice to a place with iron in its bones. Acts as equal parts oracle (speaking to the city on behalf of others, and speaking for the city) and local magical pawnbroker (the Gentry avoid places built on iron, usually, but the Cornerwitch will be there in their place if you need to make a deal). Unlike the Gentry, they tend to deal almost exclusively in items of invented value; stories are what gives a thing power. Also unlike the Gentry, they tend to be precisely, brutally fair. They’re in-between creatures themselves, and balance is of utmost importance. Above all else it’s a mantle you take up out of love for a place and the people in it, and the place loves the cornerwitch back - no harm will ever come to a cornerwitch in their city.
What this means in Elsewhere U is that at any given time there’s two or three fledgeling cornerwitches arguing out behind the gym over whose turn it is to man the designated Witch Corner this week in case anyone comes with questions.
First of all, it’s worth mentioning that House MD was inspired by ACD stories therefore it wouldn’t be odd for Mofftiss to take inspiration from the series. Also, it’s the only modern Sherlock series except for their own.
Gregory House - Sherlock Holmes, James Wilson - John Watson, Amber (aka Wilson’s dead gf) - Mary (aka Watson’s dead wife).
Ok let’s start with S4E15 ‘’House’s head’’
Summary: House has a short disjointed vision and presumes that “somebody’s going to die”. Back at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, House is diagnosed with a concussion and post-traumatic retrograde amnesia. Chase performs a medical hypnosis on House to stimulate his memory. While the team investigates several pathologies to fit the bus driver’s condition, House overdoses on his Vicodin and starts to hallucinate.
In a renewed attempt to retrieve his memory, House has his team reenact the bus crash. House overdoses on physostigmine, a medication against Alzheimer’s disease, and his mind flashes back to the bus scene before the accident. “The answer” reminds House that since he values reason above everything else, there must be one for her presence in his mind. She keeps asking House what her necklace is made from, until House realizes that it’s made of amber. “The answer” transforms into Amber Volakis, and when Wilson and Cuddy manage to resuscitate House from his overdose-induced cardiac arrest, House immediately informs Wilson that Amber’s life is in danger as he now remembers the crash.
This one is going to be pretty messy because this episode parallels HLV, TAB, and T6T. The most important thing is that Sherlock/House overdoses to solve a case in his mind, turns out it has to do with James’/John’s wife.
In an attempt to remember exactly what he saw that caused his initial concern and help definitively diagnosis her (Amber), House decides to undergo deep brain stimulation with Wilson’s urging. The crash caused such extensive anatomical and physiological trauma to Amber that she ended up suffering acute renal failure. This damage to her kidneys made them unable to adequately filter out the amantadine, causing her to overdose, and thus causing all her unexplained symptoms. Wilson suggests dialysis as a treatment, however House tells him during the memory of the moments leading up to the bus crash that when unfiltered, amantadine binds to proteins in the kidneys, and therefore dialysis is unable to clear it from the blood, and ultimately there is no treatment for Amber. House and Wilson begin to cry, and House goes into a seizure while still connected to the Deep Brain Stimulation equipment. The seizure causes the equipment to shift, thus causing House’s brain to bleed, leading to him falling into a coma. An unconscious House has a vision of Amber who persuades him not to give up on life and die, telling him that he “can’t always get what he wants”.
Wilson returns home and finds the note Amber left him in their bedroom saying she went to pick up House and would return home soon, causing him to breakdown in tears.
“Dying Changes Everything”
House then enters Wilson’s office and offers an apology in a final attempt to make him stay. Wilson tells House that he does not blame him for Amber’s death, as much as he wanted to, and tried hard to. However, when House starts to assume that everything is fine, Wilson tells House that Amber was never the real reason why he was leaving. Wilson says that he has realized that House is rude and malicious to everybody he knows, including him, and throughout their entire friendship, he’s been enabling his behavior. Wilson claims that as long as the two remain friends, he will always continue this negative atmosphere. He then begins to say that he should have been on the bus that crashed, but then pauses and says that House should have been on it alone. “We’re not friends any more, House; I’m not sure we ever were,” Wilson says as he leaves his office and leaves House in the room alone.
(cont. Wilson: I don’t blame you. I wanted to-)
“Under My Skin”
Summary: […] House must solve this daunting puzzle, even while going to extreme measures to rid himself of his continuing hallucinations of Amber.
House confides in Wilson about his problem, and they create a list of potential diagnoses, ranging from MS to schizophrenia. While House tests for and eliminates diagnosis after diagnosis, Wilson consults on House’s case, serving as a monitor to make sure House does nothing that goes beyond “House-radical” to “House-out-of-his-head-radical”. Meanwhile, House eliminates all possible diagnoses but severe mental illness and Vicodin addiction—both prognoses bleak, as House would be unable to practice medicine if taking anti-psychotics, or if in continuous pain after detox. In desperation, House gives himself insulin shock as an alternative to anti-psych drugs or ECT. After recovering from the insulin-induced coma, House finds himself free of his hallucination and eagerly returns to the diagnosis of his patient. Returning to the case, House finds Penelope’s boyfriend’s devotion suspicious, and believing it to be guilt-induced, tells his team to test him for gonorrhea. The test returns positive, but it becomes evident that the boyfriend was shocked by this, and that Penelope had been cheating on him, not the other way around. As House realizes that he reached the correct conclusion by accident rather than through accurate observation, he once again starts to have hallucinations of Amber.This leaves House’s Vicodin addiction as the final diagnosis for his hallucinations. Rather than go to a clinic or check into the hospital under a pseudonym, House reveals his situation to Cuddy and asks her to personally help him. Cuddy spends the night at House’s home, destroying any caches of Vicodin and monitoring him as he detoxes, with Amber eventually disappearing. The episode ends with House and Cuddy kissing passionately and disrobing.
“Both Sides Now”
I’d rec reading the summary, i know it’s long but it’ll make you realise how similar to TLD the ep is. And if i’d have to rec you one episode of house to watch from this list, it’d be this one.
House wakes up at his apartment after spending the night with Cuddy. He discovers that she has left her lipstick on his bathroom counter, as well as on his cheek. House pockets the lipstick, and goes to work in a cheerful mood and a remarkable lack of pain.
Meanwhile, Cuddy tells House that their relationship must be that of employer and employee. House tells Wilson that he kicked his drug habit and had sex with Cuddy; Wilson advises that he talk to her, advice which House ignores. Instead he begins a campaign to annoy and provoke her, an attempt to break through her composure. In a final attempt to provoke Cuddy into examining her true feelings for him, House announces to everyone in the main lobby of the hospital that he had sexual relations with Cuddy. Cuddy responds by confronting him in a hallway, and then firing him after he suggests that they move in together. Cuddy storms off but before House can do anything else. House then goes to talk to Cuddy in her office, and asks her if she could possibly be overreacting to the previous night. She finally admits that maybe she is, since he’s “said plenty of lousy things to [her] before.” House seems confused, as he assumed that she was overreacting to her and House having sex and what it could mean to their employer-employee relationship.
But he realizes that Cuddy’s reactions all day have been consistent, and in fact it is his own memory of the situation that is faulty. He turns his attention to the lipstick Cuddy let at his apartment, which he has been playing with all day, and is troubled that Cuddy’s coffee cup shows no lipstick smears; his memory of the prior evening included smears of lipstick on his face from kissing Cuddy, so he expects her lipstick is the sort that smears. He asks Cuddy whether she has another type of lipstick, one with a “sealing agent”, that might explain the discrepancy between his memory of the smeared kiss and the reality that now confronts him of the unsmeared coffee cup. House then has a flashback to the night (from the episode “Under My Skin”) before when he thought he told Cuddy that he needed her help with his addiction. He suddenly sees the reality of what has happened: he never told Cuddy he was having hallucinations that night. His final words of the evening were: “you can go suckle the little bastard child if that makes you feel good about yourself.” Upset by this remark, she left the office and went home, never accompanying him to his apartment.House snaps back to reality and tries to explain to Cuddy that that’s not what actually happened, saying “I told you I needed you, and you helped me.” He reaches into his pocket to remove the lipstick, but, to his shock, he discovers that it is actually a bottle of Oxycodone which states ‘not to exceed’. He drops the bottle on the floor and gingerly backs away from it. Cuddy, now realizing House is not joking, rushes to him and asks if he is okay. He doesn’t respond, but then has another flashback, and realizes what happened. The whole previous night was a complete hallucination, beginning from him telling Cuddy that he needed her to help him detox and her accompanying him home. His memory of Cuddy staying by his side at his apartment was not real, and, in fact, he spent the night popping pills by himself. Hallucinations of Amber and Kutner then appear and tell House that while the story he invented about himself is nice, it’s not true. House finally looks at Cuddy and is able to fearfully tell her that he is not okay.
House awakens in the Mayfield Psychiatric Hospital after suffering through the painful effects of Vicodin withdrawal.
Dr. Nolan tells House he cannot possibly treat someone so uncooperative. As Nolan leaves, however, House softly calls him back and says, “I need help.” He begins therapy with Nolan and House says, “I want to get better.”
House apologizes to Steve, and as he wheels him away, Steve breaks his silence and gives the silent Annie the music box he was holding. For the first time, she speaks to say 'thank you’. Lydia arrives and House takes her in to see the group watching her sister-in-law playing “Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1” on the cello.
Ah, I’ve forgotten to add this. It’s from the beginning of season six. House finds out that Lisa didn’t break up with her bf. = Sherlock didn’t ‘’break up’’ with the woman. Parallels the 221B scene in TLD.
(House: they didnt break up. Wilson: and youre ok with that? House: it is what it is)
About the ‘don’t tell anyone you’re ace, it’s tmi’. I’m aroace. I went through almost every single queer identity before finding it because, like most aroaces, ‘i’m equally attracted to all genders’ coupled with ‘i don’t know asexuality is a thing’ led me to believe i might be bi, pan, poly. bi ace, aro bi, lesbian? ace lesbian? just ace? etc etc etc. in fact, for a while i was biflux, but i have identified as aroace for the last 3 years. Anyway, i think these people know that cis straight people absolutely single you out if you don’t show attraction the opposite binary gender- say, if you’re a girl, and you never speak about finding guys attractive, men you’re crushing on, men you’re dating, men you’re interested in dating, male celebrity crushes, your sex life with men, your imagined sex life with men, your past with men, your exes etc etc etc then you will be singled out as queer. these are literal everyday questions that people face every single day. in every day conversations people will say 'wow look at that guy, what do you think?’ 'do you have a boyfriend?’ 'ugh my ex just texted me, exes are the worst. what’s up with your love life?’ eeeetc. ace people don’t show attraction to the opposite binary gender, and like lesbian and gay people, it’s fucking hard to lie about it. this is forgoing even romantic identities. after not showing adequate attraction to the opposite binary gender, straight people will see us as gay/lesbian (because ace/aro aren’t labels more people are familiar with, and most people who don’t show attraction the opposite binary gender ARE gay/lesbian) and wait for us to show attraction the SAME binary gender. when that doesn’t come, they’re like…well, they’re either a closeted lesbian, or just some weird type of queer that i don’t understand/don’t have a name for. i mean, clearly they’re not attracted to men?
For me, id'ing as every queer id but aro/ace, has led me to become accepted by peers, THANKFULLY. when i stopped mentioning i was attracted to people of any gender, realized i wasn’t, that i had been pretending for the vast majority of my life, people, OF COURSE, asked what the deal was. had i 'gone full lesbian’ (i know, straight people are a trip, as if you can choose your orientation/s, and what does 'full’ even mean, smh), that i could tell them, etc etc. when i confided in them i wasn’t interested in anyone- boys, girls, enbys- the violence i faced was indescribable. these people, these people who had been supportive of me, suddenly had it in their heads that i was…horrible, because i couldn’t feel something so human. and they were violent. because of my orientation. i’m not going to go into details of my abuse. people who are trying to make sure i’m excluded from safe communities that could have saved my life at the time don’t get to hear about that, especially since they were the reason i didn’t seek help from them. i was left alone, and i’m lucky i’m here
listen, aro/ace people face discrimination from cis straight people (i’m mentioning cis straight because straight trans people do not benefit from straight privilege but ofc cis aroaces are not discriminated against under cisnormativity, but heteronormativity) for both not showing attraction the opposite binary gender, and for feeling attraction to no gender. the only way to go about the threat of facing violence, stigma, discrimination etc, is literally by LYING. CONSTANTLY LYING. Lying that, again, if you’re a girl, you DO find men attractive, consistently agreeing with your straight girl friends when they mention it, inventing stories, inventing dates, inventing boyfriends, inventing sex stories, flirting, being on alert all the time lest you say something that 'gives you away’, always feeling like a fucking outsider but having to lie through your teeth to avoid violence.
people saying 'don’t come out as ace but to partners’ are perpetuating fucking violence. you want us to keep lying, pretending to be straight in order to not discriminated against, verbally/physically abused, etc? fuck off with that?
also, not all aces have partners. romantic partners are not the be all and end of all of people’s lives. aros generally don’t have romantic partners. you can’t tell someone 'lie about who you are so you’re not abused, only tell your romantic/sexual partner because they’re the only ones that are allowed to know you in your entirety’. Society doesn’t 'assume you’re straight until you get a partner of the same gender’, it assumes you’re straight until you don’t show exclusive attraction to people of the opposite gender, until you don’t show yourself to be straight (yes this can include getting a partner of the opposite gender). There’s no way an aro/ace, regardless of romantic id, can go about this world without being targeted as queer/not straight by straight people, unless they are making an active, every day effort to lie about their feelings. This is the same with literally every other queer/non straight orientation, which is why bi people don’t have straight privilege even in an 'opposite’ gender elationship.
also, to the people complaining that it’s a 'legitimate concern’ and it’s 'trash to say otherwise’ or w/e fucking else, which sparked me being so livid ('aces saying we don’t have a right to say this are 'insert insult’- not only are they, i’m willing to bet, not ace, and therefore don’t have a fucking say, but even if they WERE, they wouldn’t have a fucking say more than a lesbian could tell another lesbian 'hey don’t come out to anyone but your gf it’s tmi and this is a legit concern lol. instead lie about being straight so you’re safe from bigots, even if it kills you inside’. It’s wrong and bigoted. and staying silent can’t protect aros/aces more no more than staying silent can protect gay/lesbian/bi/pan/poly/omni/fluid etc people.
thanks for listening, i hope this was educational to the bigoted people, and if they’re reading this- i’m a survivor and this is very raw, i’ve been gaslighted to hell and back by 'exclusionists’ on this website who found my posts talking about my ace experiences, who sent me death threats, who literally suicide baited me for talking about my experiences- i hope this reaches you so you see how wrong you are the damage you’re doing, but if it does and you’re compelled to ANSWER or even COMMENT on it, don’t. don’t fucking touch it. have a modicum of respect, because that could send me spiralling in a very ugly way- and i’m saying this publicly because i’m sure if i didn’t say it’s very, very precarious for my mental heatlh, i’d get ugly comments on it, but hopefully being publicly asked NOT TO send me down a path i almost didn’t come back from deters potential abusers