#(found this in my drafts from May 21st...I think I wanted to wait to post until I got a part 2? cuz there were more instances)

[blackwagon-to-hell]

Hecate having opinions about Frinos pt. 1

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Steve Rogers, The Man On Fire

Hey y'all, as Pride month draws to a close I would like to post this fic. It's been in my drafts for a month and I finally today found the motivation to finish it. This is special to me for many reasons, one of which being that I'm proudly a part of this community. Some of the anger written in is my own. I think a lot of people will resonate with it. I really hope you all enjoy this and happy Pride Month <3

This was based loosely off a headcannon and once I re-find it I will credit!

Synopsis: Steve is freshly thawed, queer, and pissed | A.k.a. Steve's experience in 21st Century America

Characters: Steve Rogers, Mentions of Bucky Barnes, (loosely a Stucky fic but Steve thinks he's dead here)

Warnings: Angst but not bad, Steve Rogers being volatile and chaotic (we love), poorly written accents (I literally read this with an accent in my head), literally a 2k monologue

Word count: 5.1k

Steve Rogers came out of the ice angry.

No— not angry— Steve Rogers came out of the ice fuckin’ furious.

He came out of the ice with his hands curled into two fists, with his jaw clenched so hard his teeth were liable to snap, and with a bone to pick with every damn reporter and historian and too loud opinion on this side of the Brooklyn Bridge.

He came out simmering— no, erupting— like the serum in his blood couldn’t keep his body from hibernation all those years ago but it sure as hell won’t keep him from setting the entirety of New York on fire now. He’ll burn it all down if he has to and rebuild it the way he remembers it— the way Bucky would have remembered it— and at the end of it all no one— not the bigots or deniers or the homophobes that seem to be the only thing that came with him from the forties— will be able to say that Captain America can’t love whoever he wants.

No one will be able to say that Steve Rogers didn’t love James “Bucky” “the man I’ve loved since twelve years old” Barnes with everything he had and then some.

No one.

So he starts with the museums in Washington— because sure it isn’t New York but where else would a relic like himself belong more?

He still has hope when he enters the building. They didn’t make them like this when he was a kid— they had science fairs in the town hall and culture fairs in the backstreets near the docks but never anything this grand. No tall marble pillars or enough stairs to make him wonder if he would have been able to climb to the top when he was half the size he is now. It’s strange. It’s kind of wonderful. Yeah, the Smithsonian museums make Steve Rogers feel small for the first time in a very long time and that gives him hope.

That hope doesn’t last long, though, because soon he’s wandering through the halls, following the signs that say Captain America: The First Avenger— what the hell is an Avenger? Is that what they’re calling soldiers these days? Now he feels small and old.

Turning the corner is like landing on another planet, one devoted entirely to him. His picture is everywhere he looks, his name is in lights, even his damn uniform has been replicated and presented on a little stage and he hates it. The rage is back, sparking at his fingers— he’s a match and lucky for everyone this building is made of stone because if it wasn’t he’s sure it would be reduced to nothing but ash by now.

It only worsens as he begins reading through the plaques and the paragraphs flashing across screens on the walls— he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to that. The more he reads, though, the more he wonders if the stone is really, truly safe from the fire in his blood. He doesn’t think it is.

He surely isn’t at least— he feels like he’s going to explode. This isn’t him— none of this is him. War hero. Martyr. Golden boy. He has to stop reading that plaque— clearly no one did their research. Clearly no one dug up his medical files— or his police records. Brawls at the pub, disorderly conduct behind Mr. De Luca’s sandwich shop, public nudity at the beach that one time— thank you Bucky for the best night of his god damn life. Golden boy— ha.

Golden nobody with the black eye and broken hand is more like it.

For a moment he thinks he’s fine— he thinks it can’t get worse than this. Then he gets to the early life section and for an even longer moment his tongue tastes like gunpowder.

Steven Grant Rogers grew up in the streets of Brooklyn alongside his friend James Buchanan Barnes—

He can’t bring himself to finish the sentence— not when they already got the most important part wrong. Friend. Friend? No, no, no. No! There are a million words in the english language that Steve could use to describe Bucky and ‘friend’ will never be the first one.

How about best friend?

How about partner in crime?

How about soulmate who loved Steve so much that every night for the past forty-eight days since he woke up in an era that Bucky doesn’t exist in he’s cried himself to sleep with the same cherry cola taste of his ‘friend’ on his tongue.

It’s the final straw— Steve loses it.

“Anyone got a marker?”

The museum is quiet before he speaks but when his voice— steadily rising and taking on that New York headiness that his troops used to jazz him about— cuts through the exhibit— his fuckin’ exhibit— it’s silent. It’s dead, almost as dead as Buck— Nobody dares move a muscle as he rips his ball cap off his head and throws it at the statue of himself. Everyone knows who he is— everyone is going to know who he is so help him god.

“I said—” he tries again— “does anyone have a marker?”

It takes a moment for the people around him to pick their jaws up off the floor and he allows them that moment with a smug grin starting to tug on the corners of his lips. Finally— they’re starting to get it.

He’s not a hero; he’s a supernova of every scrawny, queer kid who’s ever gotten beaten to a pulp for kissing who they want.

Maybe then it’s fitting that the marker— when it’s finally produced and placed in his waiting palm— comes from a teenage girl with a shaved head and a blue, pink, and purple denim jacket and a busted lip. She doesn’t say much— only a mumbled here you go— but her eyes say everything that her words don’t. Give em’ hell, Cap. For the first time since waking up he flashes a genuine grin back— yeah, this one’s for you kid.

Steve wastes no time uncapping the sharpie— he’ll look that one up later— and scratching out the error. The blasphemy to his unholy name. It takes him a little longer to decide what to write in its place. There are a million words, sure, but somehow none of them feel right at this moment. None of them are enough. That’s something he’ll have to come to terms with later, though— how much nothing feels like enough anymore without Bucky.

Finally Steve settles on a word and he scribbles it as neatly as he can given the fact that he hasn’t had to write anything in eighty years. When he takes a step back, feeling alive for the first time since waking up, he beckons over the girl with the shaved head and points to the place where he’s taken it upon himself to correct history.

“Hey kid, why don’t you go ahead and read that outloud for everyone here.”

He allows another moment— this time because she deserves the time it takes for her eyes to light up and the smile to stretch across her bruised mouth.

Steve laughs— a rusted, croaky laugh; another first in forever— when her head whips around, facing him as she loudly proclaims: “It says boyfriend. Steve Rogers grew up in the streets of Brooklyn alongside his boyfriend Bucky Barnes!”

“Damn right I did—” he mutters to the kid before taking a step towards the crowd of gaping mouths. “Did you all hear that? Don’t worry if ya’ didn’t— I’ll say it one more time. Boyfriend. Bucky was my boyfriend and if he was here today he would be my husband. If any of you have a problem with that then feel free to take it up with me. I took on half of Brooklyn for that man and I’ll do it again.”

When no one says anything Steve nods, turning to hand the girl back her marker and to thank her— he may be angry but he hasn’t lost all his manners— but when he looks at her she doesn’t look back. Instead she takes the same step forward that he had, one of her hands balled into a tiny, shaking fist at her side and the other wrapped around a cell phone that’s pointed towards the crowd. He doesn’t understand the mechanics but he thinks she’s recording.

“You hear that?” She parrots the super soldier with a wavering but fierce voice. “Captain America likes men! And none of you can deny it!”

This time it’s his mouth that drops, watching as she shakily turns the camera off and spins back around. Before Steve can say anything, though, she’s talking again, this time hastier, and he can’t help but think that she sounds so much like him. All flushed and scrawny and pissed.

“I’m sorry, I’ll delete the recording if you want but, I jus’ know these bigots are gonna’ try and cover everything up and that would be a fuckin’ shame. I don’t know if you know how many kids need to hear this. I did— and I think they should too. Only if you want, of course.”

He doesn’t answer right away— he can’t. It’s like looking at himself at fifteen. Suddenly he’s back again, his feet hanging in the water as his boyfriend paces behind him, asking if he’s ready to have him look at his knuckles yet. He didn’t get that many good punches in— the scrapes are mostly from the pavement— but Buck always worries too much so it doesn’t matter. The protective idiot.

Steve shakes his head, blinking away the sunset lingering behind his eyes. “Bucky woulda’ loved you, kid.”

The next time he loses it— the next time he turns into more flame than man— is after he saves the city he’s been trying to burn down for three months.

It isn’t long after that day in the museum when Nick Fury decides it would be best for everyone if Steve goes back into the field. Of course, no one really asks him what he wants— they pretty much just shove a new suit into his hands and tell him to get training, Captain— but what else is new?

No one really comments on his outburst besides that either. Can you really call it an outburst when you’re just trying to reclaim the parts of you that have been stolen? Sure, the press gets a hold of the story and, true to what the kid had said, tries to twist it into something more digestible, but no one actually addresses it up with Steve. Apparently when someone saves the world as good as he does no one cares that they kiss men.

Or that they don’t wanna’ to actually save the world anymore.

See, in those three months— between the training and training and even more training that Steve Rogers begrudgingly obliges— he has time to catch up on the world. More importantly, he has time to catch up on what the world thinks of him. He scours a plethora of documentaries, scholarly essays, and whole books of information about his time as Captain America. Well— his time as Captain America when it mattered. In all his scouring he learns one thing: everything written about him is wrong.

It’s all so fuckin’ wrong.

Just why the hell would he want to save a world so bent on destroying who he is?

The Smithsonian exhibition was nothing compared to what’s been written in the eighty years he spent in the ice. Better yet, nothing compared to what hasn’t been written about him. They’ve taken an eraser to every part of his life that doesn’t fit with the golden image that they constructed for him. A.k.a. every part that matters. His relationship, his past, every little thing that made him supposedly perfect for the role he was given. Gone. Erskine told him he was a good man— apparently he was the only one who thought so.

Apparently being a good man isn’t good enough.

They only wanted the perfect soldier. Yeah, well, they had one and they fucked him over too. Don’t even get him started on what they did to Bucky— Steve doesn’t want to think about what Winnifred— Winnie for short— Barnes would do if she saw the history books erasing her baby’s Jewish roots. Or his relationship. It wouldn’t be pretty, that’s for damn sure. If ever there was someone more protective than Bucky it would have been his mother. Not that there’s a damn note about her in anything either though.

Maybe that’s the final straw that does him in this time— watching the place that Mrs. Barnes loved more than almost anything else in the world crumble, while also knowing that the world no longer gives a shit about the two people she loved more.

“Mr. Rogers, this is where you grew up, is it not? Is there anything you would like to say about what took place here in your home city today?”

Maybe he pretends not to hear the last part— maybe he really does only hear up until where the reporter asks him if there is anything he wants to say. He’s been around quite his fair share of explosions; it would make sense that his hearing is a little off. Maybe he just doesn’t care anymore, though.

Scratch that— he definitely doesn’t care anymore.

And why the fuck should he? He does have something to say and propriety be damned he’s going to say it.

Steve stares into the crowd of faceless reporters and flashing cameras with a scowl on his grimey face. Around him stand the other Avengers— his ‘team’. The last time he had a team the historians screwed up the history for every single member. Dugan, Morita, Falsworth, Jones, Dernier, Sawyer, Juniper, Pinkerton. Barnes. All of them were brave men with families and sacrifices and all of them were treated like jokes by ‘reporters’ just like the ones in front of him now. He really doubts there’s a difference between old and new journalism.

The only difference is that now he’s here and this time he’s not going to let them write anything but the damn truth.

“It is—” Steve muses, brushing the sweaty hair from his forehead— “I’m surprised you know that though.”

The reporter cocks his head, clearly confused, and it makes the super soldier’s blood boil. “Come again, sir?”

“I said I’m surprised you know where I was born, kid.” This time when he says the word— kid— it’s derogatory. “Ya’ know, considering how you all seem to know nothing about me otherwise.”

Steve almost smiles at the way the crowd tenses. He actually would if it weren’t for the white hot rage coursing through his veins, mingling with the last of the adrenaline leftover in his system. It gives him an extra kick— not that he needs it. Even when he was just a runt from the wrong side of the tracks he needed nothing more than an offhand comment to raise his fists. Fighting to Steve Rogers has always been intoxicating— the aftershocks of winning the battle just makes it more thrilling now.

Who knew, right?

“Sir I asked—” The reporter sputters and Steve simply holds a hand up, silencing him before he can start again.

“Yeah I know what you asked, alright. You want me to talk about the battle here in New York today and how I am more than happy to have risked my life to save it. But I can’t do that, kid. Because I didn’t save it for you. I didn’t save it for any of you.”

Steve feels his team tense— maybe were it any other time he would stop talking. He would just leave it, let the issue go, because Bucky would tell him too. They aren’t worth it, bruiser, he would say, they aren’t worth your blood. Maybe he would listen to his boyfriend because usually he was right. Bucky was always right. So yeah, maybe he would list—

Who is he kidding; he knows he wouldn’t.

Not then and certainly not now— not when Bucky isn’t here to defend himself against everything Steve has been reading about. That’s exactly why he doesn’t stop talking. Someone has to defend him and who better of a person than him? So, yeah, he keeps going, even when he hears footsteps behind him.

“You wanna’ know who I did save it for? James Barnes, that’s who I saved it for! You see, just around that corner there is a bookstore. Rickley Books. That was my boyfriend's favourite bookstore. You know, the man who gave his life to stop a train in Austria from reaching the enemies? Yeah that was him. That train was filled with supplies. Had it reached their headquarters, who knows if we’d be standing here today. If there would be a New York at all. Not that you would know that. But who cares about that dead sergeant from the 107th, right? There’s plenty just like him.”

Steve shrugs nonchalantly— a move he picked up from the very man he’s speaking about— but he spits his words at the reporters with enough venom to cancel out any peace that the action brings. That’s his own move.

He keeps going. “You know who else I saved it for? His mother. Yeah, his mother Winnie Barnes. Wonderful lady. She used to run a soup kitchen a couple blocks from here. Kept the rift raft like myself from going hungry most nights— I was a brawler, you know.”

A couple of reporters in the crowd laugh at that and Steve flinches, his vision tinting red as he cranes his neck, seeking them out.

“Oh you think that’s funny, do you? You think I’m joking? I’m not. You ever been backed into a corner, son? Had people hurl slurs at you that I can’t even repeat today? Ever been beaten up for loving your best friend? No, I bet you haven’t. You weren’t a queer kid in the thirties. That’s hard— that’s borderline impossible actually. I only made it because of people like Winnie Barnes. That woman was a saint but nobody talks about her either.”

Steve has to take a deep breath, clearing the rasp in his voice that rises as he dwells on the woman he called his second mother for so long. She wasn’t just a saint, she was an angel. He can’t cry here though, not now. Not even as his throat begins to tighten.

“Winnie was the type of lady who didn’t let anyone walk over the little people. She used to sit me down and say Stevie you gotta’ fight for what you want because ain’t nobody gonna’ give it to you. She told me that I shouldn’t have to but that there were going to be people who would try to tear me down just for being me. And she was right— just like her son— because that was the era, you know? But now, here in the twenty-first century, you’re all still trying to tear us down.”

A hand lands on his shoulder, small fingers tugging at where his suit has begun to tear. Natasha Romanoff. He meets her gaze quickly, neck craning to stare down the red head, and in the few seconds their eyes meet it’s like Bucky is next to him. Somehow the blue in her irises catches the falling sun just like his used to. Steve can hear the gruff of his voice in the depths of his mind. Back down, bruiser. The sentiment is echoed across Nat’s face.

Steve shakes her hand off him, turning back to the reporters— don’t they know that he can’t?

“You all say you care about me, huh? That I’m a hero? You know nothing about me— you don’t want to. Before I was a soldier I was a kid. A queer kid. I said that already but let me repeat it. Queer. Did you write that down? None of you certainly did before. That’s how I know that you don’t care— because in an age where being queer is infinitely more accepted you still don’t bother to write it down.”

He pauses for another breath, shutting his eyes against the blinking red lights of the cameras. They’re like little demons, always watching his every move. Recording. Everything’s always recorded these days. Will he ever be used to that? Bucky was the technology guy, not him. Not then and not now.

When Steve picks up again— eyes open and shoulders freshly straight— it’s on a new note— a clear note.

“You don’t care about me— you certainly don’t care about the real heroes of the war because if you did you wouldn’t erase our history. Do you know how much it would have meant to Bucky to see our relationship accepted? The man who died for you? How much it would’ve meant to his mother? You can’t just pick which of our stories and our sacrifices are worthy and which aren't.”

He hasn’t spoken this much since he’s woken up, not all at once at least. Maybe he should have, though— maybe if he had then he wouldn’t feel like ripping the heads off everyone in front of him right now. Call it fight or flight. Call it revenge. Hell, call it whatever you’d like because it doesn’t really matter. Either way he feels like a kid again— again— backed into a corner behind the deli with his fists up and his teeth bared.

He feels feral again.

“So now you just want me to save the world like I did— like Bucky did— all those years ago— or maybe jus’ New York— as if that’s any better— and you don’t even bother to write a proper article about me? Hell, I never even asked for an article, let alone a whole exhibit! I’m just a soldier— and before that I was just a kid. If there’s never another article written about me I’ll be grateful. But now that I’m here, standing in front of you, I’ll say this—”

Just as Steve’s voice is cresting into a shout that would no doubt be heard regardless of whether or not the microphones were in front of him, Natasha tries one more time, her fingers slipping between his.

Her voice is a dull buzz compared to his, only reaching his ears by sheer will. “C’mon Stevie— we gotta’ go now.”

Like before he’s stunned but this time instead of seeing Buck— instead of hearing him in his head— he hears Winnie.

You fought good, honey. You fought good for us. You can rest now.

It’s jarring and it’s not lost on him the handful of awkward seconds that it takes for him to respond. That’s just the effect Winnie had on people though— still has, apparently. Steve shakes his head— I know, mama. But I gotta’ finish this fight.

“No, Nat— I’ve got to say this.” Steve mumbles— voice just beginning to waver despite how hard he clenches his jaw— before sneering at the crowd one last time.

“If I ever read an article from any of you that discredits Bucky Barnes, our relationship, or myself just know that I’ll come for you. I’ll come for this city. Don’t you ever forget who I saved it for. James Barnes, Winnie Barnes, and every queer kid who’s ever felt erased because of people like you. The bigots in the forties couldn’t stop me. The Nazis couldn’t stop me. Not even the Atlantic Ocean could stop me. So don’t think for a second that any of you could either. Have a good day.”

With that Captain America turns, marching off the impromptu stage and beginning the trek back to his apartment. He doesn’t bother looking at his team as he passes them— he can imagine their stunned faces well enough on his own. No doubt he’ll be getting another assignment from Fury soon enough to make up for this ‘outburst’ too. Still, he feels a little bit better. There’s an ache in his shoulder, and one under his ribs too, but he still smiles as he passes Rickman and Sons Books. That must mean something good.

The last time Steve Rogers burns he doesn’t burn the way he’s expecting to— he doesn’t vandalize his own name or blow up at a reporter. No, the third time— the final time— that Steve Rogers burns it’s with nostalgia— and with a damn good cup of coffee in his hand.

“I had no idea this place was even here.” The girl across from Steve muses, tiny hands shifting the steaming cup back and forth.

Her name is Ellie, he learned that back at the museum after asking for a copy of the video she took. He barely knew how to use his phone back then, let alone his email— hell, both still confuse him more often than not— but she had been patient. A little awestruck and a little riled up too but he took it in stride— easily. It’s not hard being nice to the spitting image of him.

“I’m glad I’m good for something other than making the news.” Steve chuckles and this time he means it— there’s no malice or ill intent, only humor. “O’Malley’s ‘s been here longer than I have. Looked a little different then—” he takes a moment to let his eyes wander the old coffee shop and it’s new appliances— a moment to feel his age catch up to him— “but I guess I did too.”

Ellie’s laughter joins in there and it’s strange— strange that he hasn’t laughed with another person in seven, almost eight, months; strange that her laughs sound so much like Bucky’s when they were younger; strange that Bucky isn’t here to hear. Here to laugh, too. Because he would have.

He would have called Steve an old man, would have wrapped his arm around his shoulders, would have asked— no, demanded— that Ellie try the plum cobbler. They always made the best cobbler. Bucky always had the best laugh. All grit and breath and him. Steve feels warm just thinking about it.

“Well thanks for letting me in on the secret, I’ll make sure to guard it carefully.” She even has Bucky’s warm sarcasm.

Maybe it’s not so much like looking in a mirror as it is looking at what he wishes he and his boyfriend could have been back then.

“And thanks for letting me interview you—” Ellie continues, setting the cup down but not before nodding at it, her eyes wide— “wow. You weren’t kidding about the joe, huh? Anyway— thanks for scheduling this. I know you’re probably super busy— and that there are more well established people you could have gone to.”

Steve sets his own mug down too— if he hadn’t there’s a possibility it would be more puddle than porcelain. “Well established means nothin’, kid. Not when you don’t have heart. They’re parasites, all of ‘em. The press couldn’t care less about me.”

Ellie nods, lifting the lid of her laptop. It’s a little bit dented and slathered in stickers, not quite the newest model— he would know, he has the newest one and it’s still sitting in his apartment in the box. Yet another testament to how little the people around him truly know him.

“Welcome to the twenty-first century, can I get you a side of classism with that commercialism?”

Now she sounds like Winnie too.

“Say, has anyone ever told you that you’re funny?”

She shrugs, tilting her head, a lopsided grin glued to her face. “Once or twice— I never know if they mean it or if they just want me to shut up. I never do so I guess we’ll never know.”

Steve sputters out another laugh because; “I guess we’re the same then— never give them a moment, kid. That’s the best advice I can give you.” He pauses— again— he supposes it’s going to be a day of pausing— he supposes it’s about time he pauses— before adding, “Bucky would’ve scolded me for saying that.”

Ellie’s fingers, swift and deft over the machine— Steve hadn’t even seen her begin to type— pause too as her smile softens. “What would he have said instead?”

Her question shouldn’t catch off guard— this is why he asked her to meet him; to finally, properly write his story— their story. Still he pauses— Steve’s empty hands feel hot, his shoulders warm; bare— what would he have said? It doesn’t take long to hear his boyfriend’s voice, not there but somehow loud in his ear all the same.

Just relax— they aren’t worth it. It’s too nice out to care about anything but the water— are you coming in or not? Summer doesn’t last forever, you know?

It’s impossible but Steve can feel the sun on his back and on his ears again, like he’s there— like he’s back, sixteen and on fire. Those were the days where everything made him cold. The days where his skin burned no matter the season but especially in August which was when the ocean was warm enough to swim in. It never stopped him from joining Buck— nothing could have stopped him. His cheeks warm, too, at the thought.

Steve blinks, his own smile— perhaps a little lopsided in it’s own right— shaping over his mouth. “He would have told you to relax— and to try the plum cobbler. It’s fantastic.”

With another giggle— and a reiterated comment— has anyone ever told you you’re funny, Steve?— they fall into a conversation, just a kid and a relic, about life. It’s not an easy conversation— but then again those kinds never are. It’s real, though, and unedited. Unfiltered. Just the way Erskine and Winnie and Bucky would have liked it— the only way Steve wants it. It’s not perfect but, hell, Steve has never been perfect.

He’s never wanted to be.

Maybe Steve doesn’t know everything his boyfriend would say— and maybe he’d be lying if he said he doesn’t blow up once or twice after today— but he can confidently say that he gave Brooklyn a run for her money— twice— and lived to tell the tale. He can say then when it mattered, he burned. That he still burns. That he will until he doesn’t— until he’s extinguished.

But, hey, though Summer doesn’t last forever, not even the Atlantic could extinguish the flame that is Steve Rogers.

That’s what he writes— in Sharpie— on the card he writes to Ellie— the one attached to the computer he knows he’ll never use.

[littlestarlost]

what happened.

All this hunger is Always following us Out where we survive under poisonous skies They’re dreaming, but nobody’s sleeping Just coked hearts speeding See all the gold teeth gleaming See all the young, healthy free men Just move into nothing

(CW: discussion of mental health, trauma, PTSD)

A version of this post has been sitting in my drafts folder for ten months. I know this, because I originally began to write it around late January, just in time for the one-year mark to have passed since I’d last updated Setting Sun. When I posted that most recent update, I had just turned 30 years old, and I promised that it would not be another year before the next update. I wanted, so badly, for that to be true. In hindsight, it’s honestly better that I failed to keep that promise; I fear it might have exacerbated the damage that’s already been done, and made the healing process that much harder.

It’s been nearly two years. I want to talk about what happened.

I first began to write about Yuuri Katsuki and Victor Nikiforov because I recognized myself so keenly in them; Yuuri’s high-achieving anxiety and imposter syndrome, and Victor’s quietly functional depression. When I found YOI, I was in grad school; I was winning awards, the top of my class, and utterly terrified that it was all a sham. Being able to channel those emotions through these characters helped me realize my own greatness, to embody it and walk with confidence and bravado. It allowed me to go into my post-degree job search with my head held high, trusting that all the lessons I had learned would lead me to professional success. Yuuri and Victor walked through life with me, two shadows of my own psyche, two people who helped me understand myself.

The first few months of the job were fine. Then things became less than fine, and then continued to descend into the kind of mundane nightmare that only multinational corporate legal firms could manifest. Setting Sun, a story about love and self-acceptance and joy, began to twist around in on itself. I don’t want to go into detail, but suffice to say that I spent nearly two years being gaslit and abused, told I was worthless, constantly having panic attacks as I desperately tried to exert control over things that were way over my head. My body betrayed me; I was in so much pain I couldn’t walk, so stressed I couldn’t bring myself to eat unless I’d smoked weed to calm the nausea. I began to believe that I had peaked in grad school, that I was fooling myself, that I was going to be trapped in that cubicle for the rest of my life, doing grunt work without challenge or interest, in the kind of workplace where you get reported to HR for sighing too loudly. That is a thing that actually fucking happened to me; nobody asked why I might be sighing, and nobody stopped by to check in when I spent most days in tears. This was a place where less than half the people in the room put up their hands when asked if they had ever been creative as kids. This was a place where I almost never got to see the sun.

Because I was massively overqualified and even more massively underworked, I spent a lot of 2018 writing fanfic--my zine pieces, my zutara pieces, all sorts of creative things. I also began to write horror AUs; two stories, in particular, gained a fair amount of traction on this particular platform. When I look back now, I see them for the coping mechanisms that they were; in the case of the crossroads AU, where Yuuri is willing to sell his soul to the devil just to escape his commute, it wasn’t even particularly subtle. I poured all my energy into creative pursuits; it’s been my outlet my whole life, and for a while it helped. By the time I hit the SCP-9874 AU, I burned out so profoundly and utterly that it destroyed my relationship to YOI and cauterized the pieces. SCP-9874 was one of the most creative things I’ve ever done, but it also involved what is, in hindsight, a shocking level of violence and horror inflicted on these characters who were such a close part of me. I was doing this to them because I was hurting, all the time. I now recognize it as the cry for help that it was, and to this day I fantasize about taking down all the SCP-9874 posts and excising that portion of my legacy as much as possible.

I wrote Setting Sun’s 21st chapter in honour of my 30th birthday, in late January of 2019. Somehow, at the time, I didn’t realize how rough it was. How much it implied about me and how I was doing. How much it reflected the true extent of the damage I was suffering. I left Victor and Yuuri in an abandoned apartment with more questions than answers and more regrets than they or I had ever thought possible, and I thought, somehow, that this was a good turning point. Little did I know at the time that the worst was still to come.

I was able to finally escape that toxic office last October, when I found a new job that paid nearly double and was everything I wanted to do in life and more. But  Yuri on Ice hurt too much to think about, even as time marched forward and I began to heal. I had PTSD flashbacks to the old office; I dealt with echo upon echo of terror that everything would fall away to reveal I was trapped in the same old nightmare again. In January 2020, I actually took a few days off for my birthday and reread Setting Sun from the beginning, and I’d somehow forgotten how funny it is, how sweet it is, how hopeful. I had completely forgotten; it had been burned away by twenty months of agony. That realization hurt more than all the other ones put together, I think. I had a good long cry over that.

Fast forward to now, and people have started to find Setting Sun again. They’ve found it on and off in the months since I updated, and for a very long time I would read the truly lovely comments people wrote--thanking me for writing it, hoping I’d come back someday, wishing me well wherever I was--and I would dissolve into tears because I just...couldn’t. I couldn’t bear to go back to this story that I could no longer recognize myself in. And nowadays, when new commenters come, I will warn them about that last chapter I wrote, because I can recognize it as the outlier it is.

But something has very recently changed.

I couldn’t necessarily tell you exactly what. Maybe it’s that I passed the one-year mark at my new job, and the last of the poison has finally been excised. Maybe it’s because I’m looking at all my writing with new eyes as I prepare to try doing this for a living. Maybe it’s because it’s 2020, and the rules aren’t really relevant anymore. I don’t know. But I can say that, two weekends ago, I opened Setting Sun, and realized that it didn’t seem impossible anymore. I realized that the boys had been through more than enough. We’ve been through more than enough. We deserve the happy ending I always planned to give them, going back four whole years when I first planned out this massive weird tale.

It’s been a very long time. It’s been exactly long enough.

I can’t promise exactly when the final chapter of Setting Sun will arrive. I’m walking back onto previously thin ice, and my footsteps are more than a little hesitant, so as not to cause any undue cracks. But I can remember the joy and humour and fun again; I can conceive of jokes and silliness and sweetness again. My playlist is filling up again, with songs of hope and love instead of anguish and sorrow. The Yuuri and Victor who sit inside my heart are skating; the music is carrying them, the wind is rushing past their ears, their feet feel light again and they want to jump and take flight and make beautiful things.

I have bookended this post with lyrics from a song that’s been on the maybe list for Setting Sun for nearly as long as Setting Sun has existed. It’s a song I love quite profoundly, a song that means a lot to me personally, but I could never manage to make it fit. It’s a song about running away to the big bright city, about being broken on the world’s wheel, and about realizing you just want to go home. It’s a song that’s ostensibly about the tragedy of this process, but right now I’m sitting at my desk, listening to the line I, I, I wanna go back, back, back, back, with grateful tears running down my face, and I’m realizing that it’s not part of Yuuri’s story, nor Victor’s; it’s part of mine. Home may never be the same as when you left, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t waiting for you with open arms.

So that’s what happened.

Put my body on a wagon And carry me off to the ocean Let me float on into the eastern sun Out where tomorrow has just begun Where I used to be wild, back in my time Now I just fight to sleep at night So render me up into the elements Lay me in a light that I can trust Lay me in a light that I can trust Lay me in a light that I come from...

(Gold Teeth, by Hey Rosetta!)

[mendesstories]

From the Ground Up

A/N: This idea came to me when I first heard the song ‘From The Ground Up’ by Dan + Shay a few months ago and this has been sitting around in my drafts ever since. I never liked how it kept turning out and I’m still not a 100% proud but here goes nothing. Tell me what you think!!

Taglist: @mendesficsxbombay @particularnervous (if you’d like to be added or removed let me know)

March 2016

“So...it’s time, eh?” He sighs looking at her. 

She glumly nods, her eyes roaming everywhere but refusing to meet his. Her mouth opens to say something but her throat runs dry and suddenly words seem hard to find. Truthfully, she’s not sure what to say to the boy she loves when he’s about to leave for what, she prays for his sake, is the first of many of his own world tours. 

She steps towards him, takes a deep breath and attempts to gather her resolve for him.  

“I’m only nervous because I don’t know how things will work out ahead.” 

“But I’ll call ever-”

“No wait let me finish, I want you to know that this-” she gulps and her fingers fidget with the frill of her top, “-this is big and it’s going to change your life. I’m so so proud and happy that you get to do this because, my dude, you deserve to live your dream more than anyone else I know. And, even if all the distance and time changes us, I won’t hate you ever, you’ll always be my best friend first.”

He wants to tell her that her fears are irrational. They are them, they’ll get through it all together but he’s not sure he can actually convince her this time. If he’s being honest he’s terrified she’s going to be right like always, that’ll he’ll get caught up in the glitz and glamour of it all and lose her. 

He moves towards her tentatively, hands snaking around her waist and she melts into his embrace. Her head rests on his chest, her shoulders shuddering and for a split second, he blames himself for choosing to do what he loves and hurting the ones he loves in the process. 

For a fraction of a millisecond, he has this feeling although nothing might ever be the same in his life again, that somehow the two of them will pull through it. That little glimmer is enough for him. Now, it’s his turn to take a deep breath and garner some strength for her sake. 

He whispers softly, “Believe me, baby. We’ll be alright.”

Her dad watches them wearily from the side. He knows Shawn is a bright young boy with big dreams filling up his mind and only the best intentions at heart but he cannot help his fatherly inhibitions from clouding his thoughts. 

He wonders how right Shawn is in choosing to make this his career and not going to college. He isn’t sure if they truly understand how the dynamic of their relationship is about to alter, both of them ambitious but heading down starkly different paths. He worries the scrutiny and attention that is bound to come, will wear out even his strong-willed little girl. 

August 2019

Post-concert Shawn is always on an adrenaline high. Tonight, however, was truly special. He’s played the biggest show of his life. A sold-out stadium in his home city. The same place he would pass by numerous times as a child with his gaze fixated and eyes wide unable to wrap his mind around big it is. 

Certainly, he never imagined that one-day a deafening crowd would sing the words he wrote in his journals back to him when his slacked jaw and welled up eyes leave it hard for him to swallow and finish the words.

She’s out there in the deafening crowd with her hair flying in every which direction with his sister singing along to every song just like everyone else in the audience. His biggest (and possibly favourite) supporter since day one. 

He gets off stage a jittery mess with his heart still pounding fast against his chest and the whole room is electrified with his entrance. He hands his guitar to Cez and is pulled in for a hug.

There are bottles clinking, friends and family making rounds hugging him and each other. There’s enough energy in the room to spark up the CN tower standing tall behind them. 

The past five years of his life and career have gone by in the blink of an eye. She was right when she predicted everything would change but  the one thing that’s stayed constant is that he wouldn’t want to do any of this without her by his side, be it having to clean up the beer bottles and leftover pizza after Brian’s roaring 21st or playing a twice as roaring Rogers Stadium. 

So, smile a mile wide and hands still clammy he makes his way towards her. He picks her up giving her a quick twirl and she lets out a little laugh. It’s enough to ignite his burning heart further. 

He puts her down and she pulls him in closer for the tightest and warmest hug ever. Her blanket of love, happiness and pride envelops him. 

He did it 

Something lights up in her holding him so close in her arms. A glimmer, like the one he had in the airport all those years ago, tells her as long as they are hand in hand giving life their all, they’ll have many more moments like this one.  

September 2019

He’s seated in the crowded auditorium between her parents and little brother, adjusting his dress shirt and formal slacks waiting for the graduation to start. 

He recalls that one late night during the Europe leg of the tour when he woke up to fetch some water and realised she wasn’t in his arms. He found her with her shoulders bent over her textbooks and laptop, reading and rereading the words attempting to make sense of the page. She rubbed her eyes and willed herself to stay awake. 

5 more minutes she convinced herself every five minutes

His heart plummeted looking at her haggard appearance knowing he was partly responsible for it. He never asked her, he never had to, she magically always knew. She could tell sense his anxiety building up. The initial buzz of being on tour fading away. He wanted to come home, tease his sister and press kisses to his mother’s cheek. 

She would give him the world if he so asked and if there was anything she could do to keep his heart even slightly happier, she would. So without much hesitation, she makes a few adjustments in her budget for the rest of the month and flies out to him. 

The glint in his bright eyes and his warm laugh reverberating through her eardrums when she surprised him made it all worth it. 

Standing in the dim light of the tour bus it occurred to him how selfish and unfair he was to be so caught up buzzing around in excitement of her arrival to see how all that she does for him takes a toll on her as well.  

He knows she’s going to compensate for this trip by working a few extra and long shifts around her classes. Her classes are a whole other story. They are far from easy and he has come to understand computer science is an incredibly time consuming and draining major despite her being passionate about the subject. 

Recording albums, selling out stadiums, and writing heart-wrenching, gut-twisting songs was never her dream but she believed in his nevertheless. While chasing her own dream, she’s continued to support his.

Decidedly he wipes the sleep away from his tired eyes. He makes up his mind that he’s going to help her study even if that meant simply keeping her company. 

“What? Why are you awake?” She asks him breaking out of her trance as he settles into the space beside her. 

“Here, please take care of yourself, honey.” He mumbled into the dark placing a cold glass of water and some fruit in front of her. 

Andrew may have found them the next morning all cuddled up, soft snores leaving their exhausted bodies, but they had successfully finished her linear algebra 1 work. 

His face breaks into the biggest grin when they announce her name. Hands clapping as loudly as possible while she walks up on stage beaming with pride and standing tall in all her 5 feet 5 glory. Her dad even whistles a few times. He can only imagine how proud her parents are of their daughter. 

She did it

His chest constricts with a bubbling feeling and he isn’t quite sure what it is. Perhaps it’s pride but something tells him it’s just the all-consuming love he has for her and all of her.

4 years later

The second she is pushed out the room is engulfed in an overwhelming torrent of emotion.

She’s beautiful

It’s his first thought. Certainly, she’s covered in baby gunk but she’s still beautiful. 

The silence in the room for the first few seconds seemed piercing. Is she alright? She’s supposed to cry, right? Why isn’t she crying? Then it’s replaced by her faint little cry which grows louder and louder until it has turned into an all-out no holds scream. She’s loud but he doesn’t mind in the slightest. She’s safe. His wife is safe. His own family is here safe and sound.

“We have to clean her up first.” The nurse declares gently picking her up from her mother’s chest where they placed her for barely a minute. 

He doesn’t want to let her out of his sight. So, he drops his head and presses a kiss to his wife’s forehead, whispers an ‘I love you’ and speeds off after the nurse.

Not so much to one’s surprise she cries and shrieks as they take a prick of her blood and check her vitals. It takes everything in him to not pick her up and coo into her little ears that he’s right here and as long as he’s round he won’t let anything bad happen to her.

“Hi angel, I love you.” He bends down and mumbles as the nurse runs a washcloth across her tummy.

He never imagined those five words would alter his life and perspective forever. Her cries seem to subside and he knows that newborns have little to no muscle power and she can’t really see but he swears she looks at him and calms down. 

4 years later 

Estela Mendes is nearly four now. She has more fun each day than should be legally allowed. She struggles with sharing toys and her parents’ undivided attention with her toddler brother (her parents promise you they are working on this), while her curiosity about the baby in her mama’s belly grows each day.

4 years and 7 months later 

Gotta support the neck Gotta support the neck

The thought has been drilled into his head by his parents over the past few months. While his fans may have said countless things about his large hands, some of their words managing to leave him haunted, he never really noticed how large his hands actually were until now. She seems so little and fragile in his arms compared to the first two now notorious Mendes siblings. 

It’s safe to say the youngest Mendes daughter wasn’t planned yet somehow she came at the perfect time.

The two of them had spent a fair number of nights with goosebumps rising on their skin in the Toronto breeze, after putting their kids to bed, (god, how do they sound so old?) huddled shoulder to shoulder as she indulged in her choice of cravings for the night (it was a jar of pickles more often than not) dreaming of what the baby girl growing inside would be like.

Now, she’s here and he’s enamored with her very existence. He can’t keep his eyes off her. If it was all up to him he’d sit there for hours on an end memorizing every little detail of her being and watch her attempt to clasp her small figures around his large ones. 

His wife rests her head on his shoulders, exhaustion rimming her eyelids with her matted hair against her forehead. She moves her hand that is free of the IV needles and tubes to bring the two older children, smitten with the latest addition to the family, closer into her lap. 

Everything he’s ever wanted - needed really - is right here in his arms. He feels complete. 

7 years later 

The youngest Mendes child is clutched to her waist, hands moving animatedly describing plans she has with her siblings for the rest of the day, as the pair of them make their way out to the rest of the family in their backyard. 

His wife’s heart grows in size finding both sets of grandparents recollecting stories while Shawn teaches his two older children how to strum a certain chord on his guitar. 

The mess of curls - that is her son - seated on Shawn’s lap has a glint of mischief lacing his eyes trying to think of ways to add his touch of fun to the relatively calm backyard. 

She puts her daughter down who wobbles across the grass to where her dad and siblings are seated.

Now, all four of them are playing some game. He somehow manages to lift all three of them into the air, makes the sound of a bear growling, places them back onto the grass gently and tickles them until they’re all in fits of laughter. 

The delirious belly laughs they let out at his antics have him grinning ear to ear. The simplicity of the moment overwhelms him. This is all he could ever dream of having and more. A family of his own, people that are his own and people with whom he can cherish the wild rollercoaster of moments his life has been and continues to be.

All those inhibitions her dad had at the airport years ago no longer hold true. He’s watched Shawn grow into being the incredible partner and father that he is today. 

He’s the man her dad hoped he would be. 

65 years later 

The morning sun streaming in uninvited kisses them awake. He opens his eyes to the slivers of light peeping in through the gaps in the blinds casting thin stripes across her tan and angelic skin. 

She blinks multiple times adjusting to the sudden light drowsily, mouth curving into a lopsided grin as he pulls her closer into his embrace. 

65 years old now, in this little house that they made home when they stepped foot into young, first child on the way, eyes dancing with excitement for the future. 

The pictures that adorn every nook and corner of this warm and humble abode are a testament to their tale. The clouds may have rolled and the earth may have shook but they sheltered each other through the wind and the rain. 

They did it

[imaginethiswwe]

Chapter 2: Injured Demon

Reader goes out for drinks with Finn and Sami. Time hops around to finish the chapter at Summerslam 2016. These two chapters may seem slow but I want this series to be lengthy and detailed. :) 

Warnings: NONE (yet)

I spun around slowly in the mirror, checking my outfit for the 100th time. I wanted to look good. No, I wanted to look great. Here I was single, 30, and out on the town for the first time since I moved to this city. I had two attractive men as my dates tonight, and for being so nice and taking me out I wanted to impress them. 

___________________

I walked into the dimly lit bar, how the hell am I supposed to find them in here, I thought. 

Then I saw a bright grinning red beard smiling and waving his arm at me from a back corner booth just beyond the bar. I smiled back politely and made my way back to him. From where I was I could see the back of another head sitting across from Sami and suddenly my stomach was turning in knots. It was Fergal. 

“Y/N! I’m so glad you made it, you look freaking fantastic” Sami said while standing up to give me a hug.

“Thanks Sami” I said returning the hug. I then turned to face my other date for the evening.

“Hey Finn” 

“Hey Y/N” Finn said standing up to hug me as well. It felt like his greeting was off, not that I needed the warm welcome Sami just gave me, but he almost seemed unfocused. Though this intrigued me, I just met the guy today and I don’t want to barge in on his life, so I ignored the awkwardness and sat next to Sami ready to enjoy my night. 

The waitress approached and asked me if I would like anything to drink

“Oh, yes please, I would love a shot of patron and an Aperol Spritz please” I smiled at her.

“Coming right up,” she said as she walked away.

I looked back towards the boys who I could feel both staring a hole through the side of my head.

“What,” I said curiously.

“Damn girl, that is NOT what I expected you to order, but I like it,” Sami said nudging my shoulder with his own while giving me a smirk.

“Oh, yeah, I suppose I can hold my own” I giggled back to him. I glanced at Finn who was looking at me like I had a puzzle glued to my forehead. I gave him a quick smirk but he didn’t say anything, so neither did I.

_________________________________

The night flew by, the boys and I just shooting the shit like lifetime friends. It was so comfortable. Sure, the beginning with Ferg was a little awkward, but maybe he just had gotten some weird news or something. As the night went on he opened up more and it was easy to forget about earlier.

They walked me out of the bar and waited with me for my uber to show up and I hugged them both and got in. A few minutes after my uber drove away I got a text 

I’m so glad you came out tonight. You looked so gorgeous I was speechless at first, and when you ordered your drinks I was wondering what other tricks you have up your sleeve. Publicist by day, mystery woman by night. Get home safe I’ll see you tomorrow

It was from Finn, and as I was reading it I couldn’t help but smile. 

__________________________

I was down a deep media rabbit hole on my computer when I was jolted out of it by a knock at my door. “Come in” I called out.

“Hey Y/N/N,” I heard my favorite accent start to say as Ferg walked into my office.

“Hey you, what’s up” I asked. Although Finn, Sami and I have been friends for about a year now and spent most of our free time together, it wasn’t common for him to come by my office. 

Finn closed the door behind him and turned around slowly like he had something to tell me but was too nervous to say it.

“Ferg, everything okay?” I asked him again, a little more concerned this time. I stood up and walked over to him.

“Yeah, I just wanted to see if maybe I could talk to you about something,” Finn said as he looked down at his feet.

“Uh, yeah, you know you can talk to me about anything in the world...” I replied while putting my finger under his chin to bring his eyes up to meet mine.

“Well, you know there are rumblings going around about the draft” he started while glancing around the room trying everything he could to avoid my eyes.” And well, you know, since you’re in most of the know around this place I was wondering if maybe..”

“If maybe I know anything about who’s moving up?” I finished his sentence. The truth is, I do know. It is my job to cover the ins and outs of WWE superstars, and management had given me the draft list so myself and the social media team could plan our posts and be ready to cover any false information that may come up.

Finn snapped his eyes back to mine. That was enough of a confirmation for me.

“Finn you know I know, and you also know I’m not allowed to tell you. You and I have become so close over the last year, and I tell you everything. But not this, you’ll have to wait to find out like everyone else”

_________________________________

The energy in here is electric. It’s August 21st, Summerslam night. Fans are filing into the Barclays Center, buzzing with excitement about the amazing show they are about to witness. 

I was running around backstage, checking in with my team, but also catching up with some of my friends who are about to perform tonight. Of course, we are all looking forward to the first ever Universal Championship match between Seth Rollins and my best friend in the whole world Finn Balor. 

I hadn’t seen Finn all day. I knew he was wearing his demon paint tonight, and when he gets painted up he likes to do it in secret so the surprise isn’t ruined.  But I couldn’t help but check in every room I passed. I was walking down the hall when I finally heard my favorite sound in the world. His voice.

“Hey you, I finally found you!” I said excitedly as I poked my head in and saw Finn getting painted.

“Hey Y/N/N, you know you aren’t supposed to peek!” Finn laughed.

“Well too bad. I won’t tell. You look fucking awesome by the way. That paint looks so sick. You’re going to kill it tonight. How are you feeling about it all?” I asked him while I sat on the couch across from his set up

“I’m excited. This is a huge opportunity for me. For Seth, for all of us really.” Finn said.

We chatted for a few more minutes, then I wished him good luck, gave him a kiss on the cheek and scooted out of the room. I had to finish what I needed to do so I could watch his match later.

_____________________________

As Finn and Seth’s match approached, I was able to sneak out to ringside to join his parents to watch him. There was no way I was missing this moment, and I didn’t want to watch it through a tv screen in gorilla. 

I hugged his parents as I reached my seat. I had met them a few times when they came to visit Fergal, and they were just the two sweetest people you could ever meet. We played catch up for a few minutes when Seth’s music hit. He made his entrance and then my stomach started to get butterflies, Finn was next. 

When his music hit and the crowd recognized this was the Demon’s entrance they went absolutely crazy.  I’m not sure who was the bigger fan favorite. Finn Balor the man, or Demon Balor- his alter ego. I knew who my favorite was, my best friend Fergal Devitt. I felt a tear well up in my eye when he got into the ring and the lights came up. I was so happy for him. This was his moment, the moment he worked so hard and so long for. 

The match started out great, and eventually, they made their way out of the ring and worked the match ringside. Seth picked up Finn and power-bombed him into the barricade- and instantly his mom grabbed my hand. I think we both knew something wasn’t right. He looked like he was playing it off for the fans, but we knew.

They finished the match and Finn stood in the ring looking half defeated. I’m not sure if the fans noticed, as the excitement for the whole thing was so high, but we could tell. He raised his title and eventually made his way up the ramp. We hurried back to meet him.

I looked frantically for him with his parents in tow, when I finally found him in the trainer's room. He looked up, saw me and instantly shook his head. He had a huge ice pack on his shoulder, and I knew. He was hurt. I ran over to him with tears in my eyes and I just hugged him. I didn’t care that he was sweaty or covered in half worn paint. He is my best friend and he is hurting. I buried my head in his neck and I tried to reassure him “it’ll be okay- we’re going to get through this- you’re going to get through this” 

He leaned his head onto mine in acknowledgement. I didn’t expect him to say much. His entire world just crashed in around him, what could he say. 

[iol247]

Battleground social media: How disinformation, propaganda and manipulation shape our online discourse

From Putin, Trump and Zuma directly to your screen – or via a myriad of intermediaries – the goal is the same: influence. In this multi-part series we explore how disinformation and propaganda flood our timelines and unmask some of the players involved.

18 May 2020 - Susan Comrie, Micah Reddy and Sam Sole

To live in the 21st century is to be manipulated.

From local mayors to Russian intelligence agencies to energy lobbyists and presidents, those seeking to boost their political power and influence increasingly turn to the dark arts of propaganda and disinformation to distort our world-view and further their agendas.

But these actors often rely on subterfuge, meaning that investigating the original source of disinformation is a bit like searching for a black hole: it cannot be seen, only inferred by watching how its gravitational pull re-arranges the universe.

Similarly, without a smoking gun – like the Bell Pottinger emails from the #GuptaLeaks – we can rarely see who directs disinformation and propaganda; we can only infer who may be responsible based on whose interests it serves and the faint trails it leaves in the political ether.

In South Africa, there is growing evidence that our social media space is manipulated by a wide range of actors: from the international white right to the fan club of former president Jacob Zuma.

For example, in recent years we have seen the rise of anonymous Twitter accounts, vocal activists and obscure non-profits that have taken to the streets, the courts and the pages of social media under the banner of “radical economic transformation”.

A mix of true believers, manipulators and opportunists, these groups raise genuine grievances about South Africa’s racially-skewed economy but also help to spread dangerous disinformation aimed at energising their base and targeting their perceived enemies.

Is there a hidden gravitational force pulling their strings? Is there a common goal that unites the defenders of former president Zuma with those championing economic reform and the energy lobby that is pushing for a Russian nuclear deal while also fighting to protect coal? Are there puppet-masters pulling the strings?

Armed with new evidence, including hundreds of messages from WhatsApp groups, we went looking for answers. This is what we found.

Chapter 1

The first missile hit at 1pm precisely.

“#HandsOffNUMSA. The Racist AmaBhungane is going after NUMSA because NUMSA has been vocal in its opposition against Independent Power Producers and has been winning Cases in Favor of Workers and Against Capitalists.”

The person holding the grenade launcher was Shampene Mphaloane, a young, dedicated proponent of radical economic transformation (RET). But at the time, we only knew him by the Twitter handle Superblack (@hostilenativ).

During the rest of the day – 20 September 2018 – he would send another 20 #HandsOffNumsa tweets, calling us “Stratcom”, “Racist Agenda setters” and “vile White Monopoly Capital bulldogs”.

Online abuse has become routine for amaBhungane since the first pro-Gupta trolls started targeting us on Twitter in 2016. What was unusual this time was that we were getting abuse before we had published our investigation.

Superblack (@hostilenativ): “AmaBhungane is drafting a Story to tarnish the reputation of NUMSA due to NUMSA’s opposition towards the IPPs and Privatization of Eskom. #HandsOffNUMSA”

Three days before, on 17 September, we had sent detailed questions to both Numsa general secretary Irvin Jim and the chairman of the Numsa Investment Company, Khandani Msibi. By 20 September, Superblack (@hostilenativ) not only knew about our questions, but knew who had sent them.

Superblack (@hostilenativ): “This is the Stratcom Agent behind the Propaganda Campaign against NUMSA and its General Secretary Irvin Jim. He always surfaces wherever the Interests of White Capital are at Stake. His name is Micah Reddy. He is also on the Soros Funded R2KCampaign #HandsOffNUMSA”

To which former ANC MP Tony Yengeni responded both menacingly and nonsensically: “Ive saved his face for the rainy day..”

***

The first thing Mphaloane wanted to know when we tracked him down was how we managed to link him to the Superblack (@hostilenativ) account.

We explained, then confronted him about the #HandsOffNumsa campaign.

“I didn’t necessarily run the campaign… I provided my opinion to the article,” he told us.

“[T]he investigative journalist at the time … sent a couple of questions to … a lot of people who were mentioned in the article, and they started to circulate the questions to quite a number of people, myself included. So, I started to comment around the article that was going to be published.”

Union sources confirmed that amaBhungane’s questions were circulated on WhatsApp. But evidence suggests Mphaloane was not just casually expressing his opinion.

Of the 41 tweets posted that day using #HandsOffNumsa, half came from Mphaloane’s Superblack (@hostilenativ) account.

So who is Mphaloane and why did he rush to Numsa’s defence?

***

The first time we heard Mphaloane’s name was when the newly-formed SA Natives Forum approached the Western Cape high court in February 2018, seeking to permanently stay the corruption charges against former president Zuma.

SA Natives Forum was registered eight days after Zuma resigned, and it waited just one day more before filing a 420-page application arguing that all criminal charges against Zuma should be dropped.

Mphaloane was both a director of SA Natives Forum and its spokesperson.

“We are an independent, non-partisan, social justice foundation and think tank. And that implies we are not related to any political party and we are independent,” he told the SABC’s Bongani Bingwa during an interview a month later.

“We’re not in touch with the former president at all,” he added.

On the question of who was funding the pro-Zuma case, Mphaloane was coy: “In so far as who’s funding us, we will release an audited financial statement at the end of the financial year…”

That never happened and Mphaloane now says that their lawyer, Lucky Thekisho, agreed to work on contingency: “Their argument was, if we win this, then we can try and get a cost order.”

Although Mphaloane studied chemical engineering, his CV describes his work at SA Natives Forum as “developing and managing a social media outlet … as well as providing advocacy and managing campaigns that are of national interest”.

By July 2018, he was looking for new opportunities. “My background is engineering but now I’m looking for anything so I can fund the struggle,” his Superblack alter ego tweeted.

***

Shortly after Superblack’s #HandsOffNumsa Twitter offensive, Mphaloane changed his LinkedIn profile to reflect his new job: claims specialist for 3Sixty, the life insurance company owned by the Numsa Investment Company and chaired, like its parent company, by Msibi.

Two weeks later, in mid-October 2018, amaBhungane published the results of its investigation – Numsa cornered by capital? – alleging that Msibi used his position at the Numsa Investment Company and its financial resources to gain political influence in Numsa, pushing both the union and Jim, its general secretary, closer towards the Zuma faction.

Once again, Mphaloane hit back:

Superblack (@hostilenativ): “Forces of Imperialism are not happy that NUMSA has a thriving Investment Arm that can fund NUMSA’s litigation against IPPs so this is how lauch their attack. Mass media propaganda. #HandsOffNUMSA”

What followers of Superblack were not told was that he was being paid a salary by the company he was defending.

We put it to Mphaloane that it looked like he was using an anonymous account to attack his employer’s perceived enemies. “Where am I attacking? There’s a difference between attacking and responding to an article… I just have my own opinion which I’m expressing.”

We put this apparent coincidence to Msibi too: “I know Shampene but I didn’t know [Superblack] was his account,” he claimed before doubling down: “AmaBhungane did write a story about me … you had a campaign against me.”

Is it plausible that Msibi was unaware that he had such a prominent RET champion working under his roof?

Access the documents we used for this investigation, by clicking on the Evidence docket.

Two sources from the Numsa Investment Company told us that Mphaloane and Msibi had a close relationship – although both denied it. One incident both sources recalled was when Mphaloane’s work laptop was stolen, and Msibi personally intervened to ensure he received a replacement.

But in a group with 1 200 employees, that kind of personal attention stood out.

Msibi did not deny this but explained: “Shampene … didn’t have a laptop because his was stolen and some senior person resigned and his was available. I was not going to get a new laptop bought when there was a laptop lying around of a senior person. Why can’t he use it?”

***

“A lot of things are just coincidental,” Msibi told us. “Shampene, if he is [Superblack], I don’t think he has that many followers to actually be having any impact online.”

In fact, Superblack (@hostilenativ) has more than 32 000 followers, making Mphaloane an influential voice on Twitter and an amplifier for his politically outspoken boss, whom he regularly retweets.

Before and after: Superblack (@hostilenativ) was one of the most popular accounts on RET Twitter. It was deactivated last week after amaBhungane started asking questions.

“[I]nitially when I started this account, I just wanted to give my own view into things… But it was not my intention to remain anonymous, I was not trying to hide something,” Mphaloane told us.

But a few days after our phonecall, the Superblack (@hostilenativ) account was deactivated.

The evidence suggests that Mphaloane used his Twitter alter-ego to target Numsa and Msibi’s perceived enemies.

The question is, would he do the same for the pro-Zuma lobby?

What we would discover is that a WhatsApp group had been set up with this in mind.

https://amabhungane.org/stories/battleground-social-media-how-disinformation-propaganda-and-manipulation-shape-our-online-discourse/

[roidespd-blog]

Chapter Eighteen : LE MARIAGE POUR TOUS

Part Two of the extensively-researched and exhausting journey through France and its Queer citizens through time. As we explored France’s Past with Queer History yesterday, Today is about that very special time of 2012–2013 with the passing of Same-Sex Marriage. Tomorrow, our present and future. In this article, we’ll explore how we came to same-sex marriage, the opposition, the climate of the time and how much of a cunt you are if you ever thought “yeah, now we have same sex marriage, we can chill”.

As most of you must know by now, Same-sex marriage has been legal in France since May 18, 2013. It became the thirteenth country worldwide to allow same-sex couples to marry (out of 28 as of 2019). Unfortunately, even in a country that promotes itself as gay-friendly, it wasn’t an easy fight. And here are the highlights.

With the implementation of the PACS in 1999, the country was somewhat at peace with LGBTQ+ rights. It didn’t last long though. On June 5, 2004, Mayor of Bègles and former Green Party Presidential Candidate Noël Mamère conducted a same-sex marriage ceremony for two men. The Minister of Justice later declared the union null and void. The case went up to the Court of Cassation and the European Court of Human Rights, to zero positive results and Mamère was suspended from his functions.

In 2006, as the PACS was getting more and more rights, a committee on the “Report of the Family and the Rights of Children” argued that marriage, adoption and medically assisted reproduction for same-sex couples were still out of the question.

Flashforward to 2011. While the government was no longer trying to give more rights to LGBTQ+ people (it should be noted that only the L and G were in the public’s mind. Maybe a little L but with even less consideration), LGBT organizations decided to go the Constitutional Council and ask a review of same-sex marriage as unconstitutional. The demand was rejected and the question was send to the Parliament. On June 14th, the Assembly voted 293–222 NO to same-sex marriage. Socialists deputies were “mostly” in favor of the law and just like that, as gay rights were a major player in the 1981 presidential election, the same happened with the 2012 legislative AND presidential campaigns.

2012 AND ITS PROMISES

Power-thirsty candidate François Hollande announced during his presidential campaign his support for same-sex marriage and adoption for same-sex couples. To be fair, Hollande was already a vocal supporter of those rights back in 2004, while his partner at the time, Ségolène Royal, was less into it. Queer people had their cheerleader and, no spoilers here, Hollande won the election on May 6th, 2012. With a absolute majority at the Assembly a few weeks later came a promise of a bill no later than spring of 2013. The first draft was submitted to Parliament on November 7, 2012. And that’s when…

BIGGOT’S SHIT HIT THE FAN

November 17th, 2012 saw the creation a collective called ���La Manif’ Pour Tous” (or MPF) as a response to the new government’s plea for same-sex marriage. Made mostly of faith-based associations (37 to be exact), it was founded by Frigide Barjot, Ludivine de la Rochère and Albéric Dumont. Yep, if you feel the need to thank anyone for feeling like a piece of shit back in 2013, those three seem like the main recipients.

I was going to do a portrait of Frigide Bardot but on second thoughts, she’s so not worth it. The self-proclaimed “press manager of Jesus” also created the ‘Collectif de l’Humanité Durable” which campaigns against abortion and euthanasia rights. Her quotes are as intelligent as “Same-sex marriages are like weddings between animals” and she’s a ridiculous person.

So, back to MPF. Did you know that of those 37 organizations, Le Monde found out that 22 of them did not exist or were just “empty shells” associations ? Hmm. Funny, right ? Anyway, on November 17th, the first manifestation is organized. Around 70,000 people took to the street with slogans like “La Famille, Patrimoine de l’Humain”, “Un Papa, un Maman, on ne ment pas aux enfants” or “Le Gender, c’est pas mon Genre”. What a bunch of clever little Jesus Freaks.

A second manifestation is put together on January 13th, 2013. This time, sources talk to close to 340,000 people all around Paris. Marine LePen was there, all smiling and happy. CUNT. A month later, 700,000 signatures were on a petition sent to the Conseil Economique, Social et Environnemental (CESE). The demands of the Manif pour Tous were rejected by the Tribunal Administratif of Paris, which dimmed it invalid, the Cour d’Appel of Paris and finally the Conseil d’Etat.

Third manifestation on March 24th. 300,000 people attended while the Right Party (UMP) joined the march.

On the fourth manifestation on April 21st, only 45,000 people were present, showing a slowing down of the bigoted movement. The Manif Pour Tous was tearing itself apart from the inside, with Frigite Bardot becoming a too crazy-and-permanent presence in the media and a few important organizations leaving the show, like Printemps Français.

Did you know that the Manif pour Tous was still active and is now a political party ? More on that tomorrow.

Nothing about that was funny. More than dramatic, it was a scary time for Queer People as La Manif pour Tous instigated a new rule to the game of life.

THE RIGHT TO HATE

It became apparent in 2013 that parts of the country was liberating themselves from its political correctness that came with the Aids Epidemic et the arrival of the PACS. A report from May 2014 announced a 78% gain in homophobic slurs and attacks in 2013. In total, 3500 cases were reported to the police at some point during the year. A third of those cases were linked to the Manif pour Tous. The media saturation on the subject made it an everyday debate from Monday to Sunday, from the workplace to the dinner table. A Queer person was being attacked every two days, mostly in public places.

Quote from the report “victims consider that the exposure to aggressive rhetorics gave the attackers a sense of encouragement, a feeling of doing the right thing, and favorable impunity when it came to act”. Queer people were forced back in the closet in some way, as just holding your partner’s hand or kissing in public could land you in the hospital.

Example : A lesbian couple in Lyon cuddled on the subway. A young homophobe saw that, called them “disgusting lesbians, whores, sluts, bitches” and hit them both. Example : On April 7th, 2013, the very public bashing of Wildred de Brujin while he was walking with his boyfriend in the streets of Paris (see article “Queer Community vs Violence”). Example : I COULD DO THIS ALL DAY. I, myself, was punched in the face in my car while surrounded by a group of thugs who didn’t like the fact that two guys were in a car talking in their neighborhood. They asked us “What are you doing here?”. We’re talking, what does it look like ? They said “We don’t want people like you around here, fuck off”. What people ? People who talk ? My window was open just enough for one of them to put his fist in my face. I turned the engine on, open the door wild to push them away and ran away. My friend was living on that street and we had to wait at least half an hour before coming back and letting him go home. I was furious. I kept on driving, my hands were shaking. I stopped the car twice. The first time, to calm myself down as I was about to faint from anger. The second time, I leaned over to my friend — who was just a friend — and kissed him for a full minute, tongue and all, and said “At least now, we were attacked for a reason”.

Social Media was full of openly homophobic tweets and Facebook posts. Poetic phrases like “Beeeeeeeeeeurk dans mes amis sur Facebook y’a une gouine”, “#BrulonsLesPD”, “#LesGaysNeSontPasHumainsCar” or “#LaFranceSansGays”. And don’t think for one second that the anonymity of the internet was the main reason for those statements. They were, but it was so bad back then, you would still hear them out loud ON THE FUCKING STREET.

AND THEN IT HAPPENED

On February 2, 2013, The Assembly approved the first article of the bill, legalization of same-sex marriage, 249 to 97. Opponents then introduced more than 5,000 amendments to the bill in order to slow down its passage. By February 12, the bill as a whole won 329–229 and was sent to the Senate. Same story starting there starting April 4th. First article approved 179–157. By April 23rd, with minor amendments, the bill came on top with 331–225. François Hollande promulgated the bill, commonly known as “Loi Taubira” in reference to its main sponsor, as law on May 18th, 2013. The first same-sex marriage took place in Montpellier on May 29.

146 mayors challenged the law and refused to officiate marriages for same-sex couples. Just so you know, a refusal to implement is considered discrimination based on sexual orientation and is punishable with up to 5 years imprisonment and a 75,000 euros fine. Their cases were send to the European Court of Human Rights in vain, as their were dismissed in October 2018. As of 2018, 40,000 same-sex marriages have been celebrated in France, approximately 3.5% of all French marriages in the 5-year time frame.

THE FIGHT HAS JUST BEGUN. YOU KNOW THAT, RIGHT ?

We talked laws. We talked Homophobia. We talked Fear. I know want to share an impression of the Post-Mariage pour Tous situation that I’ve shared many times with friends, who mostly agree with me. It seemed that after the gigantic milestone was sealed and done, and the celebrations of the 2013 pride went according to plan, there was some sort of general drop of shoulders from Gays and Lesbians all around the country. The common attitude felt like an extension of the commonly heterosexual thought that now that we had marriage, we were all good and equal under the law. Well, absofuckinlutly not. While we have the right to marry and adopt as Queer couples, it didn’t come with IVF (In Vitro Fertilisation) for lesbian couples or any types of surrogacy for same-sex couples. Also, Gay men are still discriminated by the Law by not being able to give blood unless we’re a year abstinent. And for fuck’s sake, what about Trans rights ? Don’t you care about your Trans brothers and sisters ? That’s a story for tomorrow. Just know, dear Queer who is totally satisfied by the current situation, now that you have what you want, isn’t time to focus on those who don’t ? Wouldn’t be fair for this year’s pride to be all about parts of the community who is still search for their right to exist ?

See you then.

[sh-lan]

OMFG LAST QUARTER EVER + some spring break stuff???

Took a weekend off of life Retail therapy at its finest today Even though new jeans were overdue

It’s crazy how it still came I guess it’s a force of nature But omg it’s gonna be here on the concert T^T

This nerd would have mitsuha’s theme on his playlist smh #nochu

April 2nd, 2017 BTS Wings Tour I still can’t believe it happened I’ve been awake since 8am lol and it’s like 1:54am and i’m still trying to process and remember everything that happened today It felt like a dream! I can’t believe I saw them in real life. ohmygod Hands down, easily one of the best day of this week - if not this entire year so far holy shit will continue this tomorrow as i reminisce ok but one thing i noticed is that jungkook’s thighs are actually so real like wtf? shookt EDIT: lol i never finished this but oh well

oop i just bought more rings goodbye money

my charger broke gg time to get another one

I have a newfound appreciation for the color pink or more like my appreciation for pink is coming back

When you get anxious because bts hasnt posted on twitter for 3 days but then you also know they’re resting and that they deserve this break

SPRING QUARTER LEGGO tu/th schedule let’s hope this all works well keke

week 1 recap tuesday - sees everybody in freaking AB LOL sees harry after walking out of my tdpw sees alana and dylan outside my global health class which alana is also taking, and becca and tanya lOL goes to cogs 122 to find chen screaming my name - also vania and stella <3 last class is normal - with nobody in management BUT LOL LEIGHTON ADDED THE CLASS ON THURSDAY HAHA there’s also this girl in my tdpw class who looks like lindsay lohan and her name is also lindsey but with an e cause i saw it on the email lol not a stalker

Decided to gel nails it out friday of week 1 whut whut

First attempt at 양념치킨~

been using the soundtrack of your name this past week to get over pcd it’s been a week and i still haven’t recovered T^T

went to kbbq with harry! lol week 1 sunday started at manna….having an adventure in between at manna keke “started here and ending it here?” LOL

currently craving anything strawberry

don’t understand why i need to have my email as a send&receive in order to sms to work on my laptop bb why are you being stubborn when you’ve been working fine all this time

under yuri’s recommendation, i microwaved my coffee because it was lukewarm and she called me extra LOL

i’m getting nervous about a presentation when i shouldn’t be because ?? my AB service leader self is like completely gone i wanna crawl into a hole

i just finished season 2 and 3 of htgawm in less than a week… how they gonna do season 4 i wonder

Week 2 thursday I was actually really looking forward to class today Also my rings came! Though were they worth the $50….not so sure Were they cute? Yes But not as cute as the other one T^T So i mustnt give in to temptations nowww

I found out what matcha powder mom uses to make their matcha latte Cappuccine frappe mix But it’s sadly not on amazon ):

This new tumblr function is really inconvenient cause i cant tell how many thing i have on queue brcause i have to keep switching blogs -_-

Han came to visit! Friday Papa johns Saturday Snooze brunch Infinitea Abeh hangout In n out Sunday Aquarium! Koon thai Ramen yamadaya Boba bar and then i drove him to irvine where we got coco curry! and then i drove back and he bought me milk tea with pudding

Had an epiphany It’s not anenome It’s anemone

Omg but like why dont people call spoiler alerts “spoilerts”

Started 13 reasons why with Han Finished it, tuesday week 3 Hmmm How to feel

finished strong woman park hyung sik is so…adorable? IT’S SO WEIRD. HIS AEGYO LEVEL IS INSANE

When you realize that 둘! 셋! is probably the title of the fan song because that’s what BTS always say when they introduce themselves And that BTS + ARMY forever ㅠㅠㅠㅠ I’m not crying r u crying ;___;

어떻게

Omg when you wake up for reorientation and jungkook does lives <3

highkey need to crawl into a hole tbh

You know what i want to do? Go to an olive garden Even though i know it’ll taste bad lol

Not really sure what i want… But i dont want my 4 years to be a waste ):

i….skipped out on an interview today was it the right choice i may never know

most recent ep of snk got me fucked up SOMEONE TELL ME WHAT YMIR AND CHRISTA’S RELATIONSHIP IS WHO IS CHRISTA

Lol i hella bombed my quiz GOODBYE GONNA P/NP HAHA

Week 4 weekend Fuck me in the ass i twisted my ankle and i am in irvine had to pop an advil and cruise control all the way back thank god there weren’t many cars lol 0/10 do not recommend

Slept on the couch the past two days to elevate my ankle Glad to be back in bed But i think i might be a little…sick? Fuck Need to grocery shop

Dammit i got called for jury duty

Ok but i twisted my ankle and two recruiters emailed me back the next day so was it really a loss

Week 5 i’m sick…

just watched 5 centimeters per second a little sadder than i was an hour ago

fuck i forgot that my jeans are new and i washed it and my pink shirt is ruined fml triggered

thursday after rolling over ma ankle i can finally see that it is a lil swollen and there is bruising LOL also saw an owl at school today and a bunny while leaving to go to meeting

week 5 tuesday saw two bunnies on my way out to school

I just saw two hummingbirds! 😍

I cant believe yuri and i finished twenty SMH

ABCD today Some qualitee photos were taken Im tired now

Really debating the 4th term

third day of back pain flexibility dying wow what is happening???

…..army 4th term is $75 cries EDIT: it’s $66 because i forgot exchange rate but still cri EDIT EDIT: it’s $45 if i ship it to taiwan - seriously really highkey considering that now oh dear

bro i think i just experienced katawaredoki whut

i keep thinking that my ankle is ok but i always end up doing something that ends up hurting it like hella im

Week 6 thursday last leadership meeting one of my favorite meetings because whoa INFORMATION!? it was nice wanted to discuss and add in my two cents but i honestly just wasn’t able to wrap my head around everything loool then…we decided to go to PB LOL chen, jeong, yuri, justin and his friends (including nicole, nicole, sandy) and then more people. we also met leslie, brett, dexter, allison, kenny, peter, abby, ben…and more? at pb lolol and also we saw miguel and anthony - it was like a freshman year flashback tbh lOL went to vallartas after and then came home to shower and finally sleep at 3:30am wot is life NEXT DAY ADVENTURES - leighton and i finally pulled out the weeds and now we’re tired

salty that i wasnt invited to the birthday celebration, not that i would really make the trip per say but wtf gurl

I just had this really sad thought that i’m probably never gonna ever get to know bts like friends y i do dis to meself

Wait so like i got sick while at clew’s and it didnt happen until week 5 and so i was sick from week 5 through week 6 and at this one point i couldnt taste my food it was terribad

May 12th I bought the membership LOL Hopefully it mails it correctly back to Taiwan ☺️

im dumb i didn’t save the color i wanted for my hair

omg the song vania recommended to me a few days ago was recommended by jungkook like a year or so ago on twitter lOOOOL

Just tryna level up here :<

Struggles when places are in the east coast and phone calls are early in the fckin morning

Note to self: Ridge cut potato chips with sea salt is good for stuff with dip Ridge cut salt and pepper is good for regular eating, but gets salty at the bottom LOL EDIT: per vania’s suggestion, i salted and peppered my chips

watching jungkook’s vlive AND HE JUST HARMONIZED WITH HIMSELF IM DED

Just woke up from a dream where someone hurt my brother/nade him fall and i was so angry? Was about to go ape shit on that person im ded lol who is rhis angry me

Rewatched and finished reply 1997 Wow what is life when yoon jae is life But also what is life when your idols are life Daily reminder to not be as obsessed as shiwon LOLOL

i can’t go to giraffage and elephante anymore im on the otherhand i get to go to virginia???

lol but like i haven’t been writing drafts because i often write in my notebook now but here are some updates - my nails are constantly chipping - forgot about grad photos that clashed with the weekend han is coming - im ded because i probs won’t have a weekend to myself until week 10 - struggles to figure out graduation things - paid my $54 to walk #mostexpensivewalkever

LAST LEADERSHIP MEETING (turnover) what am i going to do with my thursday nights now? it’s been a good run

Jealous of the staff that holds and records the camera during vlives? LOL who am i

When you forget that jeon jungkook did taekwondo before Hnnnngh

i just reaffirmed? or discovered? that i don’t like fruity pebbles o_o

Trying to think of a thing to put on my grad cap Tis hard Let’s make a list: 花樣年華 Strong power thank you You never walk alone Ireumeun deborah LOL Lol omg but why is yoongi’s “cheater never win but i just graduated” quote so appropriate for grad EXTRA + ORDINARY* Lost my way/found my way* Click clack to the bang Smile with me, cry with me, fly with me (you make me begin, you made me again) Ctrl+c, ctrl+v do you know “____” (hci? annyeonghasaeyo) To lose your path, Is the way to find that path* 꽃길만 걷자* Let’s fly with our beautiful wings in 2017 EDIT: i’m too lazy, i didn’t do anything to my cap lOL

Im shookt cause namjoon doesnt say 이제 feelin the vibe. HE SAYS IF YOU FEELIN THE VIBE. I feel…betrayed

Non whitewashed bangtan gives me life

May 21st My first haircut since… Since i got it cut over the summer?????

Bought me stole and tassel today Smh that i cant grab my muir tickets?? Cause i ordered all commencwment tickets SMH

Lowkey afraid of not passing mgt LOL

Omfg i knew we were going to have a pop quiz. It really happened

nicole and evelyn commented that they liked my hair and audrey and malia agreed i gotta say i’m so glad people remember me in my tdpw class LOOL

Cant get the seventeen song outta my head Shookt by the choreography

Y'all im so fckin shookt First the chainsmokers post on twitter like “see you in the summer” Then they win the BBMAs like a boss Then you see them on halsey + steve aoki’s snapchat Next things you know steve aoki is postin shit like “BTS x AOKI COMING SOON” Im SCREAMING

Yo my lyft driver dropped some knowledge again and told me his life story lmao he was a police officer in chicago and he was forced to retired and then ?? after chasing down a rapist and getting into a fight, he was seriously injured. but his dad (a judge or someone powerful idk) forced him out of retirement by telling everyone to not give him his benefits and shit and i was like. whoa bro. slow down? “embrace the unknown”

I finally tried the coconut black tie at peet’s 10/10 a mistake

Okay but can we talk about how on point everybody looked in the comeback Esp wonwoo and dk But also vernon 👌🏼

First time in virginia/ being so close to washington dc! Whoa Also gonna pass by texas too :O Knocking some states off my list

I WITNESSED MY FIRST CIRCLE RAINBOW THINGY ON THE PLANE FROM VIRGINIA TO DALLAS TODAY HOLY IT WAS V COOL

i don’t know why i never realized this about myself before but i need to be/live by a body of water at all times or i won’t feel comfortable this is weird

i told han i joined the fanclub and he like died for like 2 seconds lOL

ok but like i bought a carton of eggs and 6 or 7 of them were double yolks and i have 2 more eggs left im starting to think i’m eating some weird hybrid chickens EDIT: those last two eggs were both double yolks. this was a wild adventure

omg i knew that the TA MOST LIKELY RYAN WOULDNT UNDERSTAND OUR IDEA JUST LIKE HOW HE ALWAYS MISINTERPRETS THEM??? like what kind of constructive feedback is that if he doesn’t understand what we’re trying to do im… sigh

Already excited about the festa But like omfg they released the schedule today And just WE DONT TALK ANYMORE PT 2?? SO FAR AWAY FEATURING JIN AND JUNGKOOK? Im IM SCREAMING also sad but the radio show is right before my finals gotta prioritize, no bts fo me ;__;

after waiting two weeks, my application to get leveled up was rejected *cries* time to try again! *^*

okay but really feeling seventeen’s song as well as suran’s song like hIGHKEY

i finally got my commencement tickets the third time that i went to the bookstore third time’s the charm right? also whytf is the parking pass for all campus commencement so huge -_-

hnngh omg that feel when you have hella shit to do TPDW1 final play due week 9 friday because we won’t have class at all on week 10 then there’s the presentation (elevator pitch) that happened today week 9 thursday but also just hauling ass on things for A5 tbh what is this what is everything wot is the meaning of life when vania and i stay up till 3:30am lol… and then there’s me. tired af but didn’t sleep til 4:30 anyways cause i’m a dumbass l e l let’s not be a potato this last week k?

burger king in pc has its own free wifi called WhopperWifi and it’s so much faster than school wifi this is revolutionary

week 9 weekend to irvine irritated on the way over irritated on the way back lol wot is life i should’ve just turned around to go back home

NO TDPW1 WEEK 10 WOOT wow that means i won’t have class until 2pm whoa

“why are you reading math formulas” - yuri i was actually reading bts profiles lOLOL she just dissed their handwritings

Just spent the past hour or so looking at kakao friends merchandise And discovering that apeach is a genetically modified peach lol

that moment when you ask for a png file but get a jpg

dyed my hurr twice today for a darker shade still not what i was going for but this will do for now

Omfg i slept through my alarm until 1pm Goodbye study time?? Also omg i like it pt 2 video SHIT SHIT SHIT THEY KNOW WE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS. HAD IT SINCE BAEPSAE DAYS. BUT DIDNT RELEASE IT. Freakin bighit

My request to level up on the fancafe has once again been rejected ); EDIT: oMFG IT’S BECAUSE I DIDN’T CHANGE THE SETTING TO SOMETHING im screaming, what a first world problem THIRD TIME’S THE CHARM AMIRITE

Doesnt feel like it… But thursday was my last time going to class…pretty much like ever unless i go to more school Holy shit

Oh man I didnt think i’d have THAT much shit. But…i think i have A LOT of shit….

saw bts MBIT and i was like omfg! knew that i was INFJ but took the test again yesterday and ended up INFP….but just barely P so i think i’ll stick with INFJ lol EDIT: i took the test again today because vania and yuri were talking about it again and i am still INFP…and more P this time. SO LOST. WHO AM I

put my things up for sale i forgot that i might need my light el oh el crying on the inside cause i want to keep my desk but then i’m selling it off because i don’t think i’ll have space for it and i just CRYING ON THE INSIDE BECAUSE IT’S BEEN WITH ME FOR SO LONG T^T

ON ANOTHER NOTE. THIRD TIME IS THE CHARM LEVELED UP ON JUNE 12TH AT ONE SOMETHING AM

JUNE 12TH FINISHED MY FIRST AND LAST FINAL I AM OFFICIALLY DONE WITH MY UNDERGRADUATE CAREER??? also lmao i spent 45 min on the final wot

i dyed my hair darker but now it’s become lighter? wait wtf wait no go back EDIT: wait no it went back to being dark? is this a thing? when i get exposed to the sun it gets lighter and when i sleep it gets darker??? smh at light for fckin with me

so i set an alarm to watch the bts home party last night for like 3:57am and i didn’t hear it but i guess i kinda did cause i woke up at 4:05am and was like ??? i decided to watch a bit of it but ended up streaming the whole thing until 5:45am looooool also watched the numbers grow from the 500,000 all the way to 2,000,000 and then 3,000,000? it was nuts

omfg all these years of rereading chapters and only now do i realize that i could save bookmarks on mangahere *slaps forehead*

Moment of silence cause i sold my desk that’s accompanied me for almost 10 years It even has battlescars (aka X marks by Jacky, 3 of them) LOL memories ;___; Oh and i guess my chair too

lol was gonna sell that yamaha guitar for $45 but it’s going for like $190 on ebay?? so ima just bring it home

finals week hangout list: tuesday: fud with kimberly, peyton, harry wednesday: more fud with stephanie and ellius thursday: KBBQ FOR LUNCH with jeong, justin, yuri, harry LOOOOL

and so...that’s the end of the quarter. my last quarter of school ever (unless i decide to go to more school...which seems unlikely as of right now) it feels weird.................................. but! onto graduation~ looking forward to being reunited with family and whatever’s gonna hit me in the face LOL

and with that goodbye undergrad, hello world ㅇㅅㅇ