Every Film I Watch In 2023:

236. Krampus (2015)

TWO TREES OF VALINOR. these are gorgeous. I gasped even though I knew it was coming. I remember losing my mind at that first teaser picture that showed them and seeing it up close is beautiful. pretty much just how I envisioned. I like how telperion is a little gentler/dimmer comparatively I cannot remember if it was confirmed that they brighten/dim according to what time of "day" it is or if I just made it up but either way that's great. gorgeous.

ok this. ok this. I saw the leaked teaser a while ago so this has been on my mind. they're falling through some sort of suspension it looks like, which could be some terrible trauma-induced vision or it could be water.

The three possibilities I have for this scene are War of Wrath, Dagor Bragollach (aka Battle of Sudden Flame), OR, most interesting to me, the First Kinslaying.

If it is water it kind of rules out sudden flame since that wasn't really. water-based. like it could be in a lake or something but that doesn't make sense. I was leaning more towards war of wrath because of how it would make most sense where they are in the timeline (continent sinking is on everyone's minds.)

This image of Galadriel is interesting to me too. She looks very rough here. Everything is red even in the air. That atmosphere also kind of implies bragollach to me with all the fire and smoke, and it is also where she lost two of her brothers, so it would absolutely make sense that she's got trauma from that, buuuut it doesn't explain the water.

War of Wrath would have a lot of fire and smoke and devastation, but considering this comes at the part where Galadriel is telling Elrond "You haven't seen what I've seen" in the trailer, Elrond probably wasn't here for these scenes. He was alive during War of Wrath though you could argue he probably wasn't caught up in the middle of it. But if we rule out "things Elrond may have seen" that narrows it down to Bragollach and the Kinslaying.

This being the Kinslaying, though, would be super interesting to put into larger context the downfall of the Noldor which would be on everyone's minds around the second age particularly with Galadriel refusing the pardon of the Noldor given that she was exiled despite fighting against Feanor and co in the kinslaying at alqualonde. This would also be a very devastating moment for Galadriel. All the smoke is a little bit out of place here admittedly, but the weird red lighting could be the combination of fire and a lack of light, and it would definitely explain the water.

And I don't think the Kinslaying is at all unreasonable, despite it not being in the appendices, considering we're seeing this.

THIS HAS TO BE THE OATH OF FEANOR I REFUSE TO ACCEPT EVERYTHING ELSE. It shows us like four elves standing in half a circle and I think it's reasonable for there to be like seven/eight depending where the man himself is standing. They're raising their swords in the air. and they sure as hell LOOK like noldor. I'm just imagining all the redheads are on the other side though. I wish I had a better image of this so I could tell if they have the star of feanor on their armor because that would be confirmation but literally what else could it be.

I can't even remember how I reacted to this I think all the neurons in my brain started firing at once and I reached a new mental state for a moment. I did not expect to see more than like a passing mention of feanor nevermind THE OATH ITSELF. This has incredible implications both for noldor lore and also celebrimbor backstory going so much more into like the feanorian drama which is all I am here for it was absolutely my favorite part of the silmarillion. the feanorians are my favorite part of the entire tolkien legendarium.

I'm not expecting them to go into much more detail than this on the individual sons of feanor so maybe none of my favorite guy maedhros :( but I do believe he's standing right behind the camera and has red hair.

love the juxtaposition of "this could be the beginning of a new era" re: second age with the rebellion of the noldor that sure was an era.

anyways I've heard the first season is going to be mostly setup and I was like "what are they setting up" but if it's a first age history lesson I am sold. I am more than sold. I am currently trying to find a way to psychically project my consciousness into september so I can see this full oath scene, the whole 2 seconds it might get.

and nothing else in this trailer matters to me honestly I forgot it already I literally care about nothing other than feanorians. (and galadriel she gets a pass. and fingon but there's no way he's here. and I'll stop while I'm ahead.) I didn't think they would give it to me, but they have. never thought I'd say it but thanks amazon

Take Me As I Am

Chapter 4: i want every other freckle

18+ Leo x Higgs: VERY NSFW. Oh boy this is full on hardcore smut here. I haven’t written that type of content before, so this was my attempt at practicing it 😬 Also, AU Porter Higgs, they both work together for the sake of whatever minimal plot there may be.

____________________________

12:34 am. The cuff link around Leo’s wrist emitted the time with a digital blue light. It had been three fucking hours since her tired body had crashed on the firm mattress of the private room, exhausted from a day of hauling heavy cargo around the Mountain Knot region. She delivered cargo boxes full of food, medicine, and the occasional special underwear from early morning until after the sun set, and all she wanted now was some relief from consciousness. And of course, life didn’t want to offer it up to her today.

Leo kneaded her eyes with her palms, sighed, and stared up at the ceiling. The low lights gave the room a soothing vibe, her eyes used to the way it settled on the objects in the room that she had collected over time. She liked how her room now represented who she was. It was the closest thing to a home she could remember.

Leo’s hand wandered mindlessly, lazily moving underneath the light blanket that covered her body. It found its way to the outside of her underwear, black briefs that she found comfortable. Rubbing gently at first, she felt herself melting into the mattress. If she wasn’t going to get sleep, she figured she might as well relieve some stress.

As she rubbed back and forth, her thoughts bubbled towards her coworker. He was tall, unbelievably so, and his presence was always felt when he was in the room. Leo always thought he was attractive, but she absolutely melted at the thought of his clear blue eyes, and the smudge of eyeliner he always framed them with. When he looked at her, Leo felt like he could see all of her, where she came from, who she was as a child, her hopes and dreams, all of it. It was an intense feeling, but it was just one of the many reasons why Leo was smitten with the man. To Leo, he was the very image of her deepest fantasies in human form. She knew her face betrayed her feelings towards him, burning with the disrespectful thoughts that occurred when he was near her. She hoped that it just looked like a kiss from the sun due to the many years of harsh outdoor life as a porter, but she had a feeling she was being too hopeful.

Warmth started emanating from the point between her legs, and her caresses grew rhythmic. Inhaling deeply, she let her head fall back into the pillow.

The way his eyes brightened when he smiled. That one strand of hair that fell in his face when he was focused. The way he applied his eyeliner, something so simplistic that added an undeniable appeal. His cologne, intoxicating and floral, permeated her mind, and she wanted nothing more than to leave his room in the morning marked by that scent. The way his sleek black shirts cling to his muscular, lean frame. The way he pulled off his gloves at the end of the day, slowly pulling them off one finger at a time. Tantalizing. Tortuous. The way he’d lean over to tie his boots, sometimes his shirt would lift and Leo would be privileged with a peek at his corded, bare skin. So muscular. His pants. God, they were so fucking tight in the just the right places. Sometimes, Leo could see the bulge of his co—

Close. Very close. Leo’s slender fingers worked at her clit, body pulsing. She let out soft moans as she grew closer and closer to climax. Without thinking, she let his name slip through her lips, flowing out like honey.

It felt so wrong, calling out his name in the middle of the night. Her passion betrayed her, and she let her mind go wild. Picturing what he would do to her, what she wanted him to do to her. Her cries came out broken and jagged, but she knew the walls of her room were sound proof. Nearly over the edge now. Her toes dug into the bed, her back arched.

“Higgs, Higgs, H-Higgs, HIGGS ”, she cried out with a breathless gasp, a bead of sweat running down her neck. At that moment, the room filled with a current. The hair on Leo’s neck stood on end. A flash of light filled the room for a split second, then the darkness returned. In a daze composed of sexual tension and confusion, Leo panted from the bed, eyes wide and looking around the room. They landed on a dark figure in the corner. As her eyes readjusted, Leo froze. She found herself looking into the blue eyes that she had been fantasizing about moments before. Higgs was in her room.

“Well I’ll be damned.” His slight drawl caused Leo’s eyes to flutter, and her face reddened to what she knew must have been a bright shade of crimson.

“H- Higgs” Leo managed to squeak out.

“I never would have guessed that you had such a dirty mind, darlin’. I could hear you screaming my name in your head. DOOMS, y’know”, and he tapped the side of his head with two fingers. How the fuck did his DOOMS allow him to hear thoughts? What else did he know?

“I’m flattered, really, that you spend your evenings, ah, thinking about me.” He gestured a hand towards Leo’s lower body, eyelids lowering the slightest fraction. It was subtle enough to almost miss it, but Leo caught it. She always did. Leo was mortified at being caught with her pants literally down, but she was surprised at his nonchalant nature. She assumed he would have been put off by her boldness at fantasizing over someone in such lewd detail with whom she’d only had a professional relationship with. She knew she was, and her mind ached with guilt. He took a few steps closer. Leo’s eyes widened.

“Now that that’s out in the open and I know what you fantasize about in the lonely night, we can drop the pretenses of friendly office banter. I have to ask—“ his voice dropped dangerously low, and he approached the bed “—do you want to see what it would really be like?”

Leo’s heart was racing now, and she was sure he could hear it. Sweaty palms gripped the sheet underneath her, eyes lowering to flee from the intensity of his eye contact. Did he just say that? No, she must be misreading it. It was late, after all. It had been a long day. A long, hard day.

She looked back up at Higgs, mouth slightly agape as she searched for words that weren’t coming. He placed his hands on the bed, leaning over where Leo still lay, shaking slightly, and emphasized each word with a quiet clarity.

“Do.

You.

Want. Me.

To. Fuck.

You?”

Leo involuntarily bucked her hips ever so slightly in response, and Higgs smirked. She quivered at his expression, and nodded. This is what she wanted. This is what she had always wanted.

“My my, darlin’, I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already shaking.”

Without warning, Higgs repositioned himself with hands on either side of her, knees tight on the outside of her thighs. Body tantalizingly close above hers. She could feel his heat radiating. It made her dizzy, so dizzy, and her breath hitched.

“I wonder what would happen,” he said as he lowered his head close to hers, eyes blazing with lust, “if I did this. ”

He gently nestled into the crook of Leo’s neck, then licked a line from her collarbone up to the precipice of her jawline. Leo let out a gasp, resisting the urge to arch her back. She hadn’t anticipated that from Higgs, at least not Higgs the person. Higgs the daydream ravished her on a routine basis. In person, he always had an air of elegance about him. He was polite, and while he was flirtatious, it never escalated beyond that. The Higgs that was on her bed in the darkness of night, now biting marks into her neck? This Higgs was completely unexpected, and completely welcome. The way he grazed his teeth over the delicate skin on her throat had her writhing under his lithe body. It was so animalistic, and it drove her fucking crazy.

His eyes searched her face, hungrily taking in every little spasm it made. He grinned, and ran his tongue over a pointed canine. He brushed his fingertips along her rib cage, along the edge of her white shirt, teasing underneath it. Her sporadic breathing betrayed the sense of self control she was desperate to maintain.

“St-stop teasing, and f-fuck me already” were the only words Leo could manage to force out.

With a swift motion and a chuckle, Higgs moved his hand underneath the shirt and pinched one of Leo’s already sensitive nipples, causing her to yelp out.

“Mmmm, you’re a feisty one. Y’know sweetheart, if I had known before about those dirty little secrets you were keeping in that pretty head of yours, I would have had some fun with you when we first met.”

Leo, in no position to think logically, gazed up at him, confusion written on her otherwise preoccupied face.

“When...we first met?”

His eyes pierced into hers, and Leo lost herself in his kohl-lined blues. That fucking sexy eyeliner. She could feel him tense up as he lowered himself so his chest touched hers, forehead brushing hers, breath cohabitating in the same space. She felt him rub against her thigh, and he let out a low groan. He was already hard.

“I wanted you from the very moment we met”

Lips crashed against one another, each trying to take the other in. Hands grasping in the dark, tangled in hair, forming wordless prayers at the alter of each other’s bodies.

“I wanted to hear you scream my name”

Moans escaped Leo. She grabbed at his arousal as he grinded against her. She was just as ready as he was. Leo grabbed his hand, and pushed it down towards the hemline of her underwear.

She knew what she wanted.

“Then make me.” She dared to look him in the eye as she said it. “Fuck me, Higgs. Fuck me like you mean it.” The ensuing growl that left Higgs sent shivers throughout Leo’s body. This was real. This was happening. All the nights she spent deep in lust and shame and one-sided cries of passion, and against all odds, Higgs was here with her.

And he was between her legs in an instant. Shoving her underwear aside, he slipped two fingers into her, already slick from her earlier activities. She gasped, back arching and body shuddering at the sudden warm intensity in her abdomen. His fingers found a rhythm, stroking and pulsing, hitting that one spot over and over again. The loud moans that escaped Leo would have set her face ablaze in different circumstances. Higgs let out a small chuckle and quickly used his free hand to cover her mouth.

“Careful, darlin’, don’t want the neighbors to come runnin’.”

Leo cried out as Higgs quickened the pace. The constant strumming assault on her sensitive nerves caused her to shudder continuously, and she didn’t know how much longer she could hold out. She normally took longer than this, but these were unusual circumstances.

“H-Higgs....I’m g-getting.....getting close....”

Words were forced, unnecessary. Leo cried out as she bucked her hips into his hand, forcing his fingers deeper.

“Oh, no no no, I don’t think so”, he spoke with words reminiscent of a purr. “You don’t get to come until I say you can come.” Leo whimpered, and considered begging. She wasn’t beneath doing anything anymore. She was now a desperate woman, and decided to take the lead. “Higgs, I swear to god, I need your cock in me right now.” Those were, apparently, the magic words, and more than Higgs could handle. Hands tangled, moving to undo the zipper on those green pants.

Hands wandered, and hands led.

In a swift motion, Higgs ripped the underwear from Leo’s hips, wrapped her legs around his waist, and teased Leo’s slick entrance with the head of his cock. It was torture, and Leo tried pulling him into her with her legs. With a wicked grin, he thrust into her all at once, filling her completely. It was a sudden immaculate balance of pleasure and pain as he stretched her swollen folds, over and over and over again. Warmth spread through her core with each thrust from Higgs, and she could feel herself leaking around him. He ran his fingers between where they met, then slowly licked them clean. “F- fuck. You taste amazing.” Leo tightened around him at the sight, and Higgs quickened the pace in return.

“Oh, oh, oh .... Higgs! ”

He grabbed her wrists, and positioned them above her head. His mouth crashed into hers, causing her passionate screams to die in her throat. His thrusts were frantic, desperate now. Her bruised core sang out a litany of unknown pleasure, marks covering her body telling the story of two lovers in the dark, writing words in a language only they shared.

“Darlin’,” came the sing song voice, “come for me. Now.”

Leo felt golden in that moment, heat and fire rocketing through her as she climaxed. Her body trembled as waves of electric made their way through her body. She could feel every breath Higgs made, every bead of sweat that mixed between their bodies. She inhaled his scent, musky sweat mixed with his floral cologne. It was intoxicating. She let out a satisfied cry, and she felt Higgs finish seconds after her, streams of his pearlescent completion filling her. She wanted more, she wanted him in her everywhere. She wanted him to use her and leave her leaking from every single one of her holes. She had experienced the impossible, and now she needed more.

Higgs let his body fall onto Leo, panting and covered in sweat. Leo exhaled a long sigh, then broke out in laughter. Higgs, who had his head resting on her chest, looked up at her. His eyes crinkled, exactly the way she remembered them, and he asked her what she was laughing at. She grinned. “I have to admit, Monaghan, you managed to outdo my fantasies.”

He gave a knowing laugh, then teased her.

“I’m surprised, considering how kinky your fantasies are, and how little time we had tonight. I saw some of that shit, and my dear, that was some pretty freaky stuff you were scheming up.”

His brows were raised in fake disapproval, and Leo scowled as she gently punched him on the shoulder.

“Well then we’ll just have to add that to the list for next time.” It took Leo a moment for the weight of what she said to hit. Her face went red, and she looked away, shyness suddenly settling despite the fact that they were both laying naked together, embracing in the soft afterglow.

“Will there....be a next time?”, she asked, quietly.

Leo felt a gentle hand on her chin, and Higgs turned her to look up at him.

“Darlin’, you’re too perfect for me to let go of. I want there to be many next times.”

Exhausted, and happier than she had felt in a long time, Leo rested her head on Higgs’ shoulder, and her exhaustion made itself known as her eyelids grew heavy. She didn’t have time to worry about seeing Higgs off as he left to his own room, or offering up her shower to clean up, because she soon fell asleep. Higgs enjoyed the quiet moment, arm around Leo as she snored softly against his chest. She was so beautiful, he had always thought. He never dared to imagine in his wildest dreams that he’d be here, seeing this side of her. He knew he took a huge risk when he jumped after sensing someone calling out to him. Luck was looking out for him that night. He gently rubbed Leo’s shoulder as he rested his eyes. Slowly, his breathing synced with Leo’s. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Slowly. Slower. Slow.

Asleep.

The quiet of the room, the humming of the power source, the gentle light bathing over the two bodies.

Morning found the two lovers where the night left them, still holding onto one another, completely at peace in each other’s arms. Leo yawned, opened her eyes, and felt complete bliss when she woke and found two ocean blue eyes waking up next to her.

this is a mutuals mention game! u need to mention one or more mutuals that come to your mind at first when you read the following words (per word): flower, angel, love, chocolate, sweet, cute, gorgeous, fun, sun, moon and stars 💓

it's been a while since i've got another one of these... and i know i should just tag my moots but i can't go on without stating why cos there are valid reasons as to why i've thought of them that way. soo,, here we go~

🌼 flower :: @berrywoo i can't stress this enough you've always been a flower to me besides your name ofc and you're an icon of growth and genuine beauty. no matter how much people trample down on you, you still rise up with strength and beauty and humility. you show them your true self and how we all can be very vulnerable despite feeling all sunshine-y and you definitely put them where they rightfully belong. words can't even explain how pure you are 😘 i just love you so much

👼 angel :: @fluffi ayee pumpkin~ ma child <33 always exuding a bright beam of light and softness, a precious lil one 🥺 goal-directed and driven and what else? needs no effort to brighten up your day, it's just so easy with her that you'll end your day always full and happy :))) mwaa

❤️ love :: @en-amours besides the url lol i love how jo and i can go deep into our conversations and talking with her always makes me feel this kind of depth and solace + this sentimental vibe where just a mere presence of her can totally make you feel at ease. jo always have a lot to say abt things but they're usually not the general knowledge that you'll get from her. her words and sentiments often carry a lot of emotions and meanings. she's so raw with her thoughts and i loooveee that so much. i know we still have a long way to go to build up a much tighter bond but i can already say these with ease cos jo, you are a gem and i'm always in awe and in comfort talking to you 💛

🍫 chocolate :: @jakeysim gill, my babyghorl, she reminds me of chocolate mainly because she has a lot of energy and emotions 一 like a chocolate 🙃 you get that feeling when you take a bite off a chocolate bar and you suddenly feel a rush of different sweetness at once? like it may not look like it has a lot to offer but when you indulge yourself in it, you get a whole package maam. you get what i mean? like she's more than what meets the eye. she's not the typical "what you see is what you get" cos she's a WHOLE lot more 😉

🍭 sweet :: @en-sun wifey <33 ohh nani 🥺 mi precious luvv, always so supportive and sweet and thoughtful ughh might have ants biting me soon cos she hella saccharine sweet my teeth cant even >< she never fails to brighten up my day even when she was still my adorable emoji anon 🥺 she's just ultimately friendly and genuine, man

🧸 cute :: @chuunie aaaaa yuriii my other unofficial child lmao very very supportive and energetic and ofc, i cant leave adorable out now, can i? this loving being pls i feel like yuri's pretty jumpy in person and i would just shower this little cutie with lotsa hugs right away. cuddles >>> & @vrsace-niki my babykins!! very endearing and genuine 🥺 literally feel like biting or pinching your cheeks everytime we talk oh god cmere childddd i wanna wrap you up like a burrito and hug you so tight with my legs around your burrito body 😭

✨ gorgeous :: @entypens ooohh angel, my my, dont get me wrong all of my mooties are exceptionally gorg she a beaut and a gem, ya girl be slayin' all day and i'll be like "damn, that's my girl right there" proud mom right here yall !! at this point i cant keep track of how many children i have on this hellsite JFBHS

🤪 fun :: @soyatenada bee !! this person right here maam. very enthusiastic when her interactive mode's on. she's very analytical and deep too! such a great listener and a person with heaps of genuine feedbacks and advices. very curious and exciting like maam, your energy bar pls take it slow imma have to catch up JFHHS

☀️ sun :: @angeljungwon haziebub! she just exudes warmth and comfort 😌 it feels so easy and relaxing talking to hazel, like you can approach her at any time of the day and scream at her about something that made your stomach do backflips ykwim babe 😉 and she would immediately ride in the vibe and get along with your silliness or whatever... until the vibe dies out cos my energy is very limited pls im a hag

🌙 moon :: @miffythoughts eyyy miffy~ i totally loveeee miffy's appreciation to the wonderful, little things in life. i get that a lot of people do cos i myself adore little things as much as yall can imagine but there's something with the way miffy portrays those details and emotions. she just gets that feeling and i am in awe of how intricate she goes into describing these beauties. she's very deep and beautiful, inside and out. she knows what she's doing and what she's talking about and just... w o w her mind ykno 🤯 i kinda wanna live there rent free even just for a day. lemme peek through those intricacies you mold into masterpieces hun !!

🌟 stars :: @serendipitysung andiii, ma lifesaver andi HAHA andi sure is a bright jewel. she seems timid sometimes and in other times, she's loud. but she's just right 😉 she doesn't say much but you'll always have this sense of security and safety cos you know she's just right there beside you, no words needed to let you know that. i enjoy her feedbacks and appreciation and support towards my writing endeavors and how she's always so nice it feels like she embraces you in warmth and comfort that you just wanna snurfle under her chin and stay there because dang, feels so homey might wanna camp in here along with the sweetest aroma from fragrant candles surrounding around <33

Dear Jeanette

I remember the first time I saw you.

I only saw you   for a few moments as you stood at the front desk above the rude receptionist. You appeared as if you descended from an amalgamation of ancestries, easily taken for Middle Eastern, Arab, or Mexican on any given day. With only a couple of short glances, I noticed your eyes.

I sat for lunch in the break room on my first day of employment; you sat right next to me. Most of the conversation around the table was boring and mundane; Where did you work before? How long have you been here?  Your questions were no less routine but it was the way you looked at me that made me nervous. When you turned your  focus on me it almost left the impression of a stare even though I only entered your crosshairs for a second.   Your dark pupils contrasted with the whites of your eyes like an eclipsed moon against a large, milk-white, daytime sky. The inky irises combined with the full eyebrows and jet-black hair almost gave you the appearance of a gypsy; I wasn’t completely certain you couldn’t read my mind with some Romani spell.

The first couple of months I keep to myself but take extra precautions to stay away from you. Most days you say good morning to me as you pass my desk. Fear of rejection has made me hesitant to greet people since childhood…so I never do. Noticing this,  your“good mornings” have become absurdly loud and aggressive. This is taken as a not so subtle hint that it’s okay to speak to my co-workers. 

At first alarmed, soon I start to subconsciously and then consciously look forward to these early morning encounters. When I hear your  footsteps approaching my body freezes in silent anticipation. The intonation I detect in your voice can affect my mood for far longer than it reasonably should. When your greeting is warm and ecstatic what has otherwise been a dull and dreary morning seems brighter and full of possibilities for the next half hour. I’m almost happy to be there. When your tone sounds forced or unenthusiastic, 30 minutes of regret that I even took the job follows. When you say nothing at all there’s a confirmation of my belief that people like you are never friendly with me unless they want something; my initial distrust was justified.

I remember the first time you talked to me and asked me about myself with no other mention of work. There had been a few prior conversations at my desk but they were all predicated on the topic of breakfast (one of my duties) or some other HR issue. You  asked me about a book I was reading and my favorite types of literature. As the subject turned to the discounts we received as part of our jobs you told me about a recent trip to Austin with your friends and family. It was at this point in the conversation when you asked if I had any friends. I was caught off guard. For one, it’s the type of question you would only ask of somebody that you suspected did not have any friends. Despite my downtrodden demeanor I had at least attempted to create the illusion of some sort of social life by keeping the picture of Erika, Joanna, and I at my 30th birthday party on my desk.  In an attempt to avoid giving a straight answer, I pointed to the picture and mumbled something about my friends moving to Reno. What surprised me is your question did not offend me. In fact, in a weird way it made me feel that maybe you understood me in a way my prejudices would not have allowed me to believe off the bat. We couldn’t be any more opposite; you radiate sunshine while I shade everything I come in contact with. Conversing with almost everyone who crosses your path as you trek around the office in multi-colored sundresses while your dark brown hair flies around freely like a young Joan Baez on one day, and sleek office wear with high heels the next, I was not alone in feeling my gray workdays brightened by  your presence. Here, in quiet conversation unhurried by the hustle and bustle of morning office traffic,  your usually bubbly aura has taken a softer, almost vulnerable tone. If I were crazy I’d say I detect the nervous, self-awareness we often display when meeting someone for the first time, the anxiety I know far too well since I tend to carry it far longer than most. For the first time you appear to me as a person, a peer, rather than an unstoppable, unreachable force of positivity and assertiveness. 

It’s not always easily evident why certain people seem to have the ability to disarm or elate almost everyone around them. As I got to know you I surmise it’s often small, subtle things that easily go unnoticed but holistically creates a social gravitational pull.  Your will to seek out those that are lonely, and provide a smile or greeting when no one else will. The treble and shake in  your voice when you’re upset or sad that conveys your genuineness and signals, “confide in me, you are safe.” The same genuineness when your voice sharpens as you get angry. The paradoxical and maybe even subconscious way you always ends up wishing the subject of your ire the best. The reminders of one’s potential and motivation to aim higher provided in one of your pep talks that can make even Tony Robbins envious. 

“If you can’t help yourself, no one can.” This is your mantra; relayed subliminally in your many appeals for me to take better care of myself, mentally and physically. “Look good, feel good.” 

Once, you told me about St. Jude, the patron saint of seemingly lost or impossible causes. When everything seems lost and you feel like quitting, call on St. Jude for perseverance. Sometimes I wonder if you're aware that the impact you have on those around you almost makes you worthy of veneration.

I've spent the past couple of weeks trying to determine where my fear of abandonment comes from. Ever since I was an adolescent I've had the expectation that everybody I meet will dislike me. The few seemingly charitable people who may attempt to befriend me are duplicitous or will hate me at some point in the future. 

In grade school I was relatively free of shame and probably had too much trust that strangers had my best interests at heart. As I reached puberty an innate fear of embarrassment and rejection developed into something more hindering than your normal teenage angst. 

I would walk through the hallway in middle school and high school and tell myself that every single person who crossed my path looked at me funny. I assumed any whisper under a passerby's breath was some form of objection to my presence that I just couldn't make out. I took to hiding in the bathroom stall during lunch and taking unusual routes home and to school just to avoid as many people as possible. 

This pattern continued until my later college years when I finally discovered what "liquid courage" meant. In hindsight alcohol has never quite made me sociable but it did provide a temporary relief from my manic, constant sense of self or more specifically sense of self in relation to other people.  

As is the norm with people of my ilk, drinking to fit in turned to self-medicating before practically any situation where I had to come into contact with people. Vodka in a water bottle before class and a couple of shots during my walk to my dead end job at a pizza parlor. Habit turns to addiction and addiction turns to dependency; the functional alcoholic gradually stops functioning; a “come-to-Jesus” moment likely in a hospital of some sorts where the lush realizes they need help. Every alcoholic war story is practically the same so the details don’t matter but it’s what comes next that would be my blessing and my curse.

My senior year of college I was first introduced to antidepressants (and psychotropic medications in general). I had no real expectations as all I heard were horror stories about children becoming suicidal or that they were just plain ineffective. About a week or two on bupropion and I developed a pep in my step at work and school I’d never experienced before. Now I’m waking up at daybreak to plan my days and taking light jogs in the morning. The sertraline curbed my anxiety to the point that I could actually talk to people without overthinking every single word that came out of my mouth. Somehow a couple people actually considered me worth being around and I gained a couple of friends.   

This is the beginning of a cycle I’ve struggled through repeatedly over the years. During this time my life feels content and I’m no longer bothered by the negative self-speak instructing me to trust one. I start to feel like I’m normal. I’ve never felt normal before. After a while I feel like I am fine and I no longer need the assistance of medication. It’s too expensive, scheduling appointments with my doctor is too difficult; the withdrawal symptoms are too much. I may do just fine for a month or even a few months after stopping with no seemingly negative effects. Somewhere down the line self-doubt and negative self-talk starts to creep back in gradually. I read into the actions of everyone around me and look for any perceived slight. If I don’t hear from somebody for a week or two it’s obvious they don’t want anything to do with me anymore. I tell myself that I need to be “proactive” and prepare myself for the imminent betrayal. 

At first my outward behavior may not change dramatically though it eventually becomes passive-aggressive. When I’m alone, especially at night, the paranoia I felt when walking through the school halls come flooding back to me. Everyone I’ve ever felt close to has left me and it’s about to happen again. I was foolish enough to let my guard down and let someone hurt me one again. 

Pretty soon my anxiety gets to the point that my nights literally become sleepless. I’ll pace back and forth and chain-smoke outside until 3:00 in the morning before sitting in my car until it’s time to leave for work. When this becomes unbearable, I go back to the one method which always (never) helps subdues my brain and I’m drinking myself to sleep every night. Eventually there are drunken outbursts of accusation and frustration and fear of the spurn I’ve created inside my head and everyone I care about has left. The cycle is complete and I’m alone again.

I talked with my therapist the other day about why this keeps happening and what the underlying causes could be. She seems to believe that emotional abandonment by those who cared for me as a child fuels the self-esteem issues I have today. I can agree that people without emotional support at home tend to look for it elsewhere. There is the saying “Friends come and go but family is forever.” But what comfort is that if your family is invalidating or at worst unhealthy? 

I’ve been through the cycle before but this one hurts the most. For one, it was the most avoidable. Why did I ever stop taking meds. Why did I ever pick up a drink. Why didn’t I do something about it all once I realized I was on this path again. But further, usually I can point so some perceived flaw in the other person that may help me part with a tiny bit of the blame however wrong I may be. Erika and Joanna, though I loved, could be similarly emotionally aloof or inconsiderate as I when they pleased. Maureen was an irresponsible moocher I had nothing in common with. Irene was a junkie. Nolan just couldn’t handle.  

But this time seems different. Whenever my child-like anxieties flared the verbal assurances I always wanted seemed to be there for once. Vulnerability did not seem to be punished or scorned as it always had been in the past. In a way, the traits I’ve longed to see in so many people only to be disappointed were finally present. Losing people I’d known much longer had hurt far less.

16 Signs of Flirting at Work to Tell if a Coworker is Hitting on You

Learning to tell if a co-worker is into you is as simple as learning the signs of flirting at work. Now, are you going to flirt back or shut it down? When you’re working with other people, you naturally build relationships with them over time. These are people you literally see more than your family or partner. So, how can you not get to know them? Sometimes romance blooms in unexpected places, and understanding the signs of flirting at work can help you know if they’re just being friendly or want something more. The must-know signs of flirting at work Sometimes getting to know your co-workers can turn into something more. Outside of the office, it can be easier to tell if someone is flirting with you. But at work, there are unspoken rules. One of them being not to flirt or date co-workers. And I get the reason why those rules are in place, but at the same time, we’re only human. At work, people try hard to cover up their emotions and hide their feelings for co-workers they’re interested in. [Read: How to handle a co-worker crush like an adult] And that can be annoying, especially if you are interested in them as well. So, of course, you want to know what the subtle signs are, it could be your chance to connect with someone you have feelings for. It’ll save you a lot of time trying to figure out what’s going on. If you realize they’re not flirting with you, you can move on. And if they are flirting with you, well, this is great news. Now you can make a step forward. I know, I know, you shouldn’t date people you work with, but at the same time, you only live once. Just as long as you know the consequences if it doesn’t work out and can handle them, then go for it. Who knows what could happen? [Read: How to flirt at work while keeping it harmless and fun] It can be tough to tell, but these signs of flirting at work will shed light on the situation. #1 You feel it. What can I say, when it comes to intuition, follow it. Your gut may be wrong sometimes, but that’s very rare. If you have the feeling that your co-worker is flirting with you at work, then you’re probably right. Of course, the rest of these signs will help you come to a final decision. You may think, “but they’re married,” but listen, married people flirt as well. [Read: How to listen to your gut and give strength to your inner voice] #2 Small, minor touches. You can never tell if they touch you on purpose or if it’s an accident. Since they’re your co-worker, they’re not going to be obvious with their actions. They may touch your arm, brush by you, pat you on the shoulder. But they wouldn’t be touching you unless they’re trying to communicate with you. #3 Their behavior changes when they’re around you. Your co-worker may not openly be flirting with you, but that doesn’t mean they’re not flirting with you. If they become more chatty, tell more jokes, or become nervous around you, it’s a sign that they’re interested in you. If their behavior changes right when they’re around you, that’s a sign. [Read: The 13 clear signs you’ve got a work husband or wife] #4 They’re always there. Whether it’s when you’re on a break or just walking around the office, it’s like they’re always there. Do you think that’s by chance? Not likely. If anything, they’re trying to line themselves up to bump into you or just see what you’re up to. #5 They are eye contact heavy. Whether you’re at work or at the bar, eye contact is a great way to see if someone is interested in you. Eye contact is super flirty and in this case, is one of the indisputable signs of flirting at work. If someone is looking at you for longer than normal, giving you a smile – they’re flirting with you. But if they’re looking away from you, don’t be fooled; they’re not interested. [Read: Prolonged eye contact flirting – What it means and how to do it] #6 They mention their weaknesses. This may sound a little strange, but not if you think about it for a second. Sure, it’s not the most desirable way to get someone’s attention, but it works. If they’re pointing out their weaknesses to raise awareness to your strengths, that’s a form of flirting. #7 They are on your social media. Now, many of our co-workers are on our social media, so this isn’t a sign. But what is a sign is that they’re constantly liking everything you post. Maybe they’ll even make a comment as well. Social media is a great way to see if you’re on someone’s radar. If they take the time to check out your social media, it’s a sign. [Read: 15 subtle clues to know if your crush likes you back] #8 They’re excited to see you. Okay, they’re not jumping up and down in joy, but when they see you at work in the morning, you can see their eyes brighten with joy. Oh, they’re happy to see you, that’s for sure. If your co-worker shines like the sun when you talk, they like you. #9 They laugh at your jokes. For them, you’re the funniest person on earth. They’re always laughing at every joke you make, whether a good one or not. Sorry, we all make bad jokes from time to time! But no matter what, they give your joke a chuckle or giggle. This is an obvious sign they’re flirting with you. #10 They want to hang out outside of work. Yes, you have a nice relationship at work, but they want to take things outside of the office. Maybe they invite you to a concert during the weekend or for drinks on Friday, and this is a sign they want into your life. They want to be more than just a co-worker. [Read: How to know if you have a real crush on a workplace colleague] #11 They get you coffee. I know this may sound rudimentary, but don’t be fooled by this kind gesture. If your co-worker gets you coffee every morning, just the way you like it, well, they like you. No one invests their time bringing a co-worker coffee unless there’s a reason why. #12 They ask questions about your personal life. With co-workers, you’re friends with them, but it takes time before you learn about their life. And even then, they usually don’t know personal details about you. But if your co-worker asks you questions about your relationship status, etc., then it’s a sign they’re scoping you out. #13 They defend you at work. Maybe you made a mistake at work, or another co-worker has been spreading rumors behind your back. Well, they’re not going to let that slide. Instead of going along with it, they defend you. Now, maybe they’re the type of person who would do that, or maybe they like you. #14 They help you with work. Maybe you’re swamped with work to do, but don’t worry, they help you out. Now, let’s get real. Why would anyone want to do extra work? Exactly. No one wants to do that. So, if someone offers to help you out and has shown these other signs, they like you. #15 Suddenly, you have matching work schedules. This one may be a little weird if you’re not into your co-worker. But if you are interested in your co-worker, then it works out quite well. Anyways, if suddenly you have matching schedules, something happened on their end. This isn’t chance; it shows they’re into you. [Read: The lusty signs a co-worker is sexually attracted to you] #16 They remember important dates. If it’s your birthday, they organize the cake and office gift. But don’t rely solely on this sign. It needs to be paired with others on this list as well. There are people who enjoy celebrating a co-worker’s birthday and organizing events. [Read: How to decode the behavior of your crush] After taking a look at these signs of flirting at work, what do you think? Is your co-worker flirting with you? A better question, what are you going to do about it? The post 16 Signs of Flirting at Work to Tell if a Coworker is Hitting on You is the original content of LovePanky - Your Guide to Better Love and Relationships.

Chapter 14-- What the Newspapers Said.

Written by “The Countess”

(In which Betty finds herself sensationalized.)

* * * * *

“Here’s your Herald, Sun, World! Big extry! All about the escaped thief!”

The shrill cry of the newsboy telling to the world the perfidy of Jim Paxton, here, in the very avenue where the latest pet of the creme de la creme society had so lately delighted to promenade as the cynosure of all eyes, attracted all that vast world of fashionable swells and staid old businessmen as well as the small boy with the love for yellow-backed literature, of which this affair so strongly smacked, who had worshiped the handsome Westerner for months from a respectful distance. All these bought papers and read eagerly the extensive, and decidedly sensational, accounts of the trial.

A tall, magnificently proportioned man, in a wide-brimmed hat and long over coat, comes down the street, a pretty girl in a gown of purple and green poplin, fearfully and wonderfully made, at his side.

“Here he comes now,” one excited little boot-black cries, with the vision of the $10,000 reward dancing before him. “Catch him, boys! Stop, thief! Stop, thief! Stop--!!!”

The pale-faced hero in the big hat turns around and looks at the boy, a strange smile lighting his face.

“Even a boy can be fooled, Betty-- do I look so much like-- like him?”

The pretty girl in the hideous gown answers energetically, “Of course not, Jack dear! You’re a hundred times better looking. He only saw the hat, you know.”

“Well, shall I-- buy a paper, Betty?”

“Yes, do!”

“I rather hate to read the account. It hurts me so. But I’m glad the world recognizes me now in my true colors-- as Jack Morningstar. When I explain in court how I have been fooled-- cheated even out of my name-- they’ll think me a crazy loon, Betty.”

“No, Jack! For I shall tell them how good you are and how you love-- oh, so deeply!-- and what a devil Jim Paxton is!”

“Betty! It’s very kind of you to take such an interest in me. I-- I’m a thousand times obliged but-- Betty, the ladies here don’t say devil and such things, you know. It isn’t pretty!”

Betty looks at him in perfect bewilderment.

“Jack Morningstar! Here I’ve just come from Montana and saved you and you go and tell me it isn’t pretty to talk as I do--” (with an exaggerated imitation of his voice-- “It isn’t pretty! Why I’m not a child, Jack! If you’d saved me, I’d not care if you swore like a trooper. Besides, you have no right to find fault. You’re not my husband, or-- sweetheart! Correct Miss McClure please and let me alone!”

“Miss Clyde needs no correction. And you, Betty, are perfect in my eyes-- perfect. But your language-- here-- in New York-- your--”

“Jack, are you going to buy a paper?”

He meekly purchases the three remaining papers from a newsboy with a blue nose and wide open eyes, and has the pleasure of hearing the latter say to his small chums on the curbstone, “It’s him-- don’t you see, he buyed ‘em all so no one ud see the reward. I’ll foller him!”

“No need of it, my boy. I’m the real Jack. Here’s a dollar for your pains.”

The little fellow catches the coin tossed to him and subsides, full of importance, into the center of a group of admiring and fawning companions.

“I’ll change my hat to-morrow,” Jack remarks in a low tone to the still injured Betty. “Come, my girl. Cheer up. I’ll not be bad or cross again. Here’s a place where we can get dinner. Come in and have a bit and while we are waiting for it, we can read about ourselves in the paper.”

He leads her into the magnificent hall at Delmonico’s. It is thronged with dudes and elegantly attired ladies. The former ogled Miss Tucker through their single eye-glasses and murmured, “Devilish harnsome, but wetched style, ye know, perfectly wetched!” The latter stared in a well-bred manner bordering on impertinence, turned up their noses and drew away their gowns as they passed her.

“A mistake,” one of them says loud enough for Jack to hear. “Probably drifted in thinking it an exposition building.”

Betty, fortunately, is so engrossed with the exquisite furnishings of the rooms that she does not catch the words. She has one of those rarely-to-be-seen characters who forget themselves in the admiration of their surroundings, and, being naturally romantic, she entirely forgot her clothes, her general unfitness to mingle with “McAllister’s Four hundred,” after a morning spent in sight-seeing, and thinks only how like she is to Sophonista La Verne in the novel she had just finished. She is quoting a passage of that heavy work, which she thought particularly beautiful: -- “She glided down the room, attended only by the handsome count, the observed of all observers. Her dress, of rich, creamy satin, studded with pearls and fragrant with lilies, sweeps over the thickly carpeted floors with a swish that is music to her admirers--”

Just as she is thinking of herself as Sophonista a handsome lady with a fluff of gray-gold hair upon her forehead and a pair of pearl-rimmed glasses on her aristocratic nose, steps forward, extends a daintily gloved hand to Jack and says,

“Mr. Ashton! How--”

“Morningstar, Mrs. Landhurst,” Jack interrupts, with his hand on his heart.

“To be sure! Pardon me. Indeed, Mr. Morningstar, I am delighted to have you cleared of those awful charges. I was at the trial yesterday when Mr. M-- pshaw!-- Paxton escaped and, from your face, expected you to faint, knowing how much you had borne for his sake, the ingrate! And to think society has been so fooled! The papers have glowing accounts of your nobility to-day, haven’t they? Not read them? My dear boy, sit down immediately and devour them! Stop! First present your young friend to me!”

Jack draws Betty forward. She has been an interested spectator of the little scene. All eyes are on her. If Mrs. Landhurst can notice her, others surely can. Besides, the secret has leaked out that the odd pair are none other than the hero and heroine of yesterday’s trial.

“Excuse me, Ma’am. Miss Elizabeth Tucker, of Gallatin Co., Montana, Mrs. Landhurst. Pleased to make you known.”

“And a most noble girl. Bring her to see me, Mr.-- I really hate to call you Morningstar, having associated the name with that plausible Paxton-- I shall be charmed to have her come. And, now, goodby! Read those papers and see how New York raves over you!”

With a smile at Betty and a gesture at the papers in Jack’s hand, she swept out of the room.

“How lovely she is!” Betty said with the clear, ringing intonation she had used at the trial, which caused those who prized a “sweet, low voice in women” to start. “I want to be just like her when I’m fifty, Jack!”

The enter the magnificent dining-room and, seating themselves, Jack and Betty astounded the swell waiter with the magnitude of their order. While waiting for it, Jack unrolled The World and read aloud the glaring headlines:

“Saved!!!

“By a Beautiful Western Girl Just when His Fate Seemed Darkest! Terrific Excitement in the Ashton-McClure Trial! Henry Ashton, the Accused, Proves to be the Real Jack Morningstar, a Montana Millionaire, while the Pet of Society is an Impoverished English Count. Escape of the Rascal! Sensational Details! Miss Tucker Interviewed!”

“Miss Tucker Interviewed!” exclaimed Betty, who had been listening with parted lips and flushed cheeks. How charming to be called beautiful in print! “Why, Jack, I wasn’t interviewed, was I? What does it mean?”

“Oh, they call it ‘newspaper enterprise,’ Betty, to pretend to interview you!”

“But it’s a lie!”

“Hush, dear! Some of the men are ogling you and your loud talk may attract too much attention.”

Betty’s face flushed and she became silent. Jack never found fault with her in Montana! But she was too sensible a girl to stay angry long, so when Jack said kindly, “Shall I read it, Betty?” she brightened and said cheerfully, “Let ‘er go, Gallagher!” to the infinite amusement of a couple of wealthy sports at the next table, who evidently admired her fresh beauty immensely.

So Jack reads an extensive account of the trial, highly sensational and greatly exaggerated, calling him a hero of heroes and maligning Jim Paxton, “the poor count,” in a manner surprising to one who had noted in the same paper of a fortnight ago the notice of how Jim had lead the German at Mrs. Whitney’s with the ease and grace of a Chesterfield, betokening gentle-- nay, noble parentage!

Then came the interview. Jack had hesitated often during his reading, hating to let even Betty know the fulsome flattery heaped upon him. But she had laughed heartily and set him at his ease, so now he took a mischievous delight in reading, clearly and distinctly what the “World” said of her.

“After the trial yesterday afternoon, our reporter called at the Hoffman House and inquired for Miss Tucker, the young and beautiful heroine of the day. He was shown to the parlor of her suite--”

“My suite! Oh, Jack! And I didn’t know there was a Hoffman House till this minute! I--”

“I know it, Betty, wait a minute. -- ‘He was shown to the parlor of her suite of magnificent apartments. There, in the center of the room, reclining in an easy chair, beside a table literally loaded with knives, pistols, rifles, powder bags, cartridges, etc., sat perhaps the most beautiful woman in all New York to-day.”

“I’m so afraid of pistols! And it isn’t nice to be called beautiful by one who has never seen me!” Betty laughed merrily, causing the sports to try harder than ever to catch her eye.

“Miss Betty Tucker,” continued Jack, “is tall and slender, with a mass of golden hair--”

“It’s red, Jack!”

“And a pair of the loveliest gold-brown eyes in the world. Her complexion is of that marvelous rose-pink over which the poet raves but which is seldom seen on earth--”

“Without freckles!”

“Her figure, while slight, is commanding. Her manners are deliciously unconventional, perhaps even more so than the true Morninstar’s-- and, by the way, is it not strange that none suspected Paxton of not being an American? His style is distinctly English and his Westernisms, looking back at them, seem very forced. We predict that the true Jack will more than fill the false Jack’s high place in the ‘upper ten’ society. He is certainly handsomer, a hundred times richer, and has proved himself to be as noble as his dearest foe has proven himself to be base. But to continue.

“With a graceful, free sweep of her arm towards the table, Miss Tucker said, ‘I carry these to protect myself from Jim Paxton’s friends, but I find I have little use for them.’

“The reporter volunteered that New Yorkers were so gallant that when a beautiful girl showed a desperate hatred for even a social lion like Paxton, they at once agreed with her. Miss Betty opened her fine eyes slowly and ejaculated, ‘Ah there, you make me tired!’ in a most musical Western voice.”

Betty’s eyes snapped with indignation. “What a dreadful paper, Jack! What will your friend, Mrs. Landhurst, think of me!”

“Poor Betty! I’ve been standing it for a year now. Here’s some more.”

“ ‘Are you pleased with the metropolis?’ We asked finally, admiring the grace with which she was cleaning a Smith & Wesson 32-caliber revolver.

“ ‘Tickled to death with it!’ she cried archly, playing cocking the weapon in her hands.

“ ‘Are you any relation to the hero of the hour, Jack Morningstar?’

“ ‘Well,’ she answered with rosy blushes suffusing her pretty face, ‘he isn’t just now but--”

“Jack!” screams Betty, turning over a cut glass carafe in her excitement and confusion. “Jack, they’re making fools of us!”

All eyes are turned toward her again and she sinks back in her chair, vexed and half crying.

Jack picks up another paper with a mischievous laugh.

“A Pretty Montana Girl the Heroine of Yesterday,” he reads. He skips the details of the trial and comes to Betty’s description. “A tall, lissome, willowy girl in a hideous gown. This is Miss Tucker. She is a brunette type of beauty--”

“The other papers said blonde,” laughs Betty, entirely mollified by being called a heroine and a pretty one at that.

“With large, passionate, dark eyes-- sometimes brown, sometimes grey, changing, like the sea. Graceful as a gazelle, unaffected as a child, young, with all the freshness of pure girlhood upon her, beautiful, with all womanly graces combined in her carriage. Morningstar would have been doomed had it not been for her. He is a lucky dog. What a champion to have! What a heroine she is!’ -- See here, Betty, here’s a sketch of you!”

She reaches for the paper, glances at the picture labeled “Miss Tucker” and, throwing back her head laughs merrily, showing her white, even teeth and making the room echo with music. Her laughter is infectious. The sports at the next table join in, some inert dudes at the other end join in languidly, just because “We knaw Mornin’stah, ye know,” and the little heroine is “blarsted pwetty, bah Jove!” One or two ladies simper maliciously, and murmur, “Awfully loud, but so very amusing!”

Betty’s laughter, subsiding into a musical, tinkling sound by this time, enables her to speak.

“Why, Jack, if I looked like that, I’d beg you to kill me-- really I should! Why, the nose is quite puggy, Jack-- see here! Isn’t it? And I never wear my hair in that slouchy Mikado style, do I? And that bonnet looks for all the world like Keturah Sophia Henderson’s grandmother’s! Oh, Jack, chloroform me now if I look like that!”

Betty is truly beautiful in this merry mood. Always unaffected, her abandon on this occasion is perfectly delicious to the blase New York swells.

“Let’s toast her!” cries one of the sports. “Here’s to the prettiest young woman in New York City, the bravest, most dashing and dangerous. Long may she prosper!”

Jack rises indignantly and crossed over to their table. “This is an outrage, gentlemen,” he whispers. “I did not bring her here to be insulted! Beg her pardon immediately!”

This gives the sports a chance to make her acquaintance, (which they have been dying to do) so they take matters coolly and, walking over to Betty, apologize with so much grace and in such winning ways, that she forgives them on the spot, because of their resemblance to her Ledger heroes.