#I am legitimately invested now like!! how do you expect me to sleep now?

[blockgamepirate]

Technoblade’s purpose in the political narrative of the Dream SMP

I can’t sleep so I decided to finally write the post I’ve been struggling with for literal months, except way more casual because I can’t be bothered anymore and also I’m sleep deprived.

So the thing is: to me the DSMP storyline has always been primarily political, probably because I was introduced to it through Wilbur who was definitely going for political, and also because I’m just generally interested in political narratives right now. Obviously I appreciate the character work and the personal relationship stuff, that’s what makes it more interesting than just dry allegory, but when it comes down to it, this story is about politics to me. So that’s the angle I’m going to approach it from.

Also not to spoil the conclusions here, but I’m an anarchist, that’s my lens.

(Obviously all of this is about rp from here on out unless otherwise specified)

Basically the situation as Techno joins the server is this: L'Manburg exists as an autonomous nation and is de facto independent although not officially recognised by the Dream SMP. The self-appointed president Wilbur Soot decides to hold an election and rig it in order to consolidate his power over the nation he founded and he gets his VP Tommyinnit to join in on the plan. Their scheme fails and they end up voted out instead. The new president, Schlatt, immediately establishes himself as an authoritarian figure and exiles Wilbur and Tommy.

A couple of points on what the election arc demonstrates:

1: the appearance of democracy can be used for distinctly undemocratic purposes.

2: even if the elections aren’t rigged, the electoral system could be massively flawed and end up favouring a party that in fact didn’t have the popular vote

3: even if the winning government (the coalition in this case) has the majority vote, that doesn’t guarantee that they’ll actually act according to the popular will.

4: the supporters of the losing parties basically just have to let the majority overrule their wishes, espcially since apparently L’Manburg doesn’t have an established role for an opposition, yikes. That’s actually a MAJOR oversight in the system but I’m not gonna go into that too much.

5: frankly as an anarchist I am just deeply cynical towards representative democracy, and just because you have a token appearance of choice and consent doesn’t mean that it isn’t a hierarchical and authoritarian system. And to be fair, from my point of view this applies even to so-called liberal democracies and progressive parties. Full disclosure: even if L'Manburg was the ideal example of a representative democracy (which it very much isn’t) I would still be opposed to it because I fundamentally do not believe in top down systems, even electoral ones.

6: despite all these flaws, all the characters seem to implicitly accept the electoral system as legitimate. There’s criticism against the actions of individual characters acting within the system, such as Quackity calling out Wilbur for trying to rig the election, but nobody is questioning the system itself.

So at this point I’m sitting there, watching all this go down, and thinking “man, this would be so much more bearable if there was an anarchist point of view being represented in the story.”

And hey, look who IMMEDIATELY SHOWS UP.

Okay, I’m not gonna lie, early installation Technoblade is not the best representation of anarchism. I was mostly rooting for him out of sheer contrarianism initially. I didn’t really even care if it would be another Killmonger/Magneto/Zaheer situation because I’m used to reading against the authorial intent when it comes to these things. Sometimes any representation is better than no representation, even with political ideologies. That’s not to say that him just straight up spouting this hobbesian notion of a “dog-eat-dog world” didn’t grate on me, obviously it did.

That kind of worldview of humanity needing authority in order to prevent chaos and conflict is literally antithetical to anarchism and is the favourite talking point of authoritarians, the least anarchist people there are. It’s literally what people use to argue AGAINST anarchism. I think it’s mostly because cc!Techno obviously wasn’t particularly educated on anarchist thought and was just basically having fun roleplaying with his friends at this point. Which is frustrating but fair enough I guess.

Cynical ideas about human nature are pretty deeply rooted in the mainstream, unfortunately, most people just consider it common sense. And like I said, it’s a huge talking point in the propaganda against anarchism.

(… even though in fact these arguments were originally used against proponents of representative democracy. Hobbes himself was very much a monarchist, the idea of letting normal people vote for their representatives would have been terrifying to him. Like surely the world would descent into a free-for-all war, all against all. Imagine letting commoners have OPINIONS, the horror.)

So yeah, that stuff was pretty ehhhhh. It was basically what I’d expected though: cc!Techno isn’t an anarchist and we just don’t get accurate representation from non-anarchists, ever. What I dared to hope was that Techno’s character would at least stay consistent about his opposition to ALL governments. I was pretty sure that he would, even though it seemed like the majority of the fandom at the time was convinced that he would switch over to Schlatt’s side or something. It would have been a really shitty twist, I would have ragequit immediately. I mean what would have been the entire point of his character then? He might as well have been a random mercenary. Why even have his character be an anarchist if you were just going to make him work for a government?

(ftr this is kinda my biggest problem with the Hypixel Skyblock revolution event lol, honestly I think that was a worse depiction of anarchism than early DSMP Technoblade. I mean the speech was good, but… still became a government official, tho. booooooooo, cringe)

And yes, I was rooting against L'Manburg, obviously, and I would have even if it had meant having to deal with another badly written anarchist villain character. I never understood why people saw L'Manburg as the good guys, they were nationalist and exclusionary and their whole existence was based on trying to scam people for money.

I mean they were definitely funny, they were great entertainers. I have no problems with people rooting for them because they’re fun to watch; I did that for a bit too. But people were starting to get really into the story and talk about Wilbur and Tommy, the corrupt politicians, and the country that literally excluded people based on nationality as the heroes, unironically, which was wild to me. And when Wilbur started his “villain arc” well: people called it a villain arc, as if he hadn’t been pretty much a bad guy from the beginning, constantly just out for money and power and taking advantage of the people around him and then pretending to be the victim when challenged. I mean yes he got worse, but I wouldn’t call it a villain arc, more like just a mental breakdown arc.

More importantly, to me L'Manburg represented so many things I hate about the status quo in real life, and seeing the fandom mostly unquestioningly accept it as good just pissed me off. Still pisses me off tbh. I mean, to be diplomatic I could say that I understand the emotional attachment and the way L'Manburg was built up mirrors a lot of how real nations are built and how they create a sense of patriotism out of symbols and a sense of honour and loyalty, and it’s actually really fascinating how it even works in a Minecraft roleplay. Says something about the human mind I guess. Doesn’t mean I have to like it though.

Anyway, I just wanted to see literally any kind of opposition to power, even if it had to come from a character that was unquestionably a villain, which I fully assumed Techno would be. Because political narratives so often just leave us out, or at best barely mention us. And even from a narrative point of view, adding an anarchist perspective to a political story just objectively broadens its scope and actually challenges people who are used to only arguing along the lines of conservative or liberal, welfare state or privatization, nationalism or multiculturalism, etc. Even if the original work dealt with it poorly, at least it would give me the excuse to rant about it on Tumblr, which is kinda why I revived my old Minecraft sideblog for this. (That and pig!Techno fanart.)

Also how can you have a story so fundamentally about power without its counterpoint: the rejection of power?

(Yes, Dream SMP as a whole is definitely a narrative about power, it’s a huge theme for Wilbur, Quackity, Dream, Eret and the Badlanders at least, as well as obviously the anarchist characters from the opposite direction.)

So yeah, the build up to November 16th for me was mainly about the anticipation for what Techno would do, how would Techno’s character respond to the seemingly inevitable formation of a new government. THAT was the point of interest for me, that was what I was the most invested in. Would we get an actual anarchist opposition as a new side to the conflict or would they just awkwardly drop that whole angle? Or even have him team up with Schlatt like a complete sellout? There was so much potential but I worried they might just waste it.

And I was right to worry since apparently in the original script Techno wasn’t supposed to do anything, he was just there to help fight Schlatt and witness the explosion along with everyone else.

And WOW that would have been so incredibly boring

Not even just from the political perspective, just talking about the narrative in general terms here: imagine November 16th without Techno’s plot points. Not only would it have been boring for Techno’s character but it would have been equally boring for basically everybody but Wilbur and Philza. An anticlimactic fight followed by a big explosion that pretty much everybody had seen coming already. Yes, the button room scene is dramatic and heartbreaking… for Wilbur and Phil. But nobody else was there to see it. For everybody else, it was just a big explosion. It would have been such a huge disservice to anyone watching the other POVs.

Techno’s intervention gave everyone an ACTUAL climactic fight, it allowed characters other than Wil and Phil to witness some actual drama happening and to participate in it, rather than just waiting around for the explosion, while also foreshadowing the explosion. Even better, it provoked SO MUCH discussion in the fandom AND gave a perfect hook for future conflicts to arise. Wilbur’s end was tragic but it was, at the time, final. L'Manburg would have still suffered a catastrophe but it would have been left with just the same exact antagonist as before: Dream.

And at this point Dream’s core goals had barely changed, just his approach was now different. Yes, that makes a difference for the plot, but it doesn’t really change much in terms of ideological conflict. Especially since there really isn’t that big of an ideological difference between Dream and Tommy, because arguably neither of them are particularly big on ideology in the first place, they just have conflicting goals and use different tactics to achieve those goals (well, the tactics aren’t always even that different *cough Spirit cough*).

Techno’s conflict with Tubbo and especially Quackity (and honestly most of the other characters in general) brings in so much more depth to the story, just by introducing another angle, not to even mention how much it brings to focus questions about power and violence. These are themes that exist in other characters’s storylines too but nowhere in the same way or as central as with Techno.

I’m getting kind of ahead of myself here, though.

The real twist of November 16th was the fact that Techno WASN’T a straight up villain, actually. It was a twist to me anyway, because with all my cynicism I just didn’t see it coming, I didn’t expect him to actually start making reasonable criticisms. I didn’t expect him to drop the hobbesian arguments entirely and start making points that actually sounded like anarchism.

I have to assume that cc!Techno must have seen some of the criticisms of his character and been inspired to adjust because the difference is pretty notable.

(Sidenote: I’m just forever kinda sad that Techno’s “I may seem like the villain here” monologue was cut from the video and most people never heard it.)

And I felt SO validated by the way, because it works so well in the story! Everyone is mostly content with the restoration of a status quo of some sort, Schlatt is gone, this is supposed to be the good ending, and then Techno calls them all out and turns the narrative around completely: This was just a coup d'état. This was just the previous political leadership retaking power by force. Why is everyone celebrating the same exact system that lead to Schlatt’s authoritarian rule in the first place?

What he does there is force the audience to question the narrative they’ve been presented so far, that they’ve accepted without a thought. It might not convince them, but they can’t just ignore it either.

Whatever you wanna say about the discourse around Techno on that day, in the ideological narrative THIS IS THE IMPORTANT PART. Not who betrayed who or when is political violence justified, that’s about personal relationships and morality and it’s mostly all more relevant to the aftermath than the event itself. In my opinion, the REAL point in the moment is that the characters and the audience were comfortable with the ending only to be presented with a completely new perspective on the events.

It also recontextualises the finale, including Wilbur’s actions! It’s a much more ambiguous end to the Pogtopia vs Manburg arc and to Wilbur’s original run as the head writer. Wilbur’s “even with Tubbo in charge I don’t think [that ‘special place’] can exist again” is vague enough to be dismissed as just part of his paranoia and internal conflict, but with Techno, there’s a concrete question: what if Tubbo, given the same powers as Schlatt, will turn out to be just a new Schlatt? And suddenly you have to wonder what Wilbur meant by his words too. And was all this foreshadowing something about L’Manburg’s future?

Okay I’ve only made it to November 16th and there’s so much more DSMP to talk about but the post is getting too long and I’m starting to lose my energy. Will I ever make a part two? No idea. But I’ll try.

Standard disclaimer: I’m not the spokesperson of anarchism, other anarchists might disagree with my reading

[resinatingbeauty]

A 'Witch Shop' Owner's Plea Before Casting That Love Spell

I don't personally offer many spell kits, mojo bags, etc. In my shop and avoid selling my 'Craft', as in, I don't advertise or list spell casting among my offerings, though I have had a couple of customers specifically ask if I could perform a spell I offered as a kit on their behalf for whatever reason. This is because I personally believe that the journey is just as important as the destination in witchcraft and many of the spell kits / spells I do offer are designed in such a way to soothe, relax, release, and heal throughout the process. Honestly, in addition, I really don't want the responsibility associated with performing magick on someone else's behalf for many reasons. The strength of my intent is not going to be as strong as yours, for example. Even if I effectively channel your energy, creating that personal connection between the beneficiary and the intent or purpose of the spell work is incredibly difficult at a distance. I'm always wary of other shops advertising this type of service- the sad truth of the matter is our little niche has been permeated by scammers, con artists, and frauds looking to take advantage of anyone looking for a solution to whatever it is that has them at this low point in life. I will tell you, more often than not it's love spells that the customer is after, and they are apt to find many options on Etsy, the platform I primarily do business on, and beyond.

I distinctly think of one potential customer who had contacted me one night obviously very upset. My heart went out to her immediately - I could just tell by what she was saying and how quickly she responded to me that she was in a state of panic and extreme emotional distress. She isn't the only one, but she stands out from the others as her desire to win back her ex lover was so strong it was evident that she would do anything and (potentially) pay anything for a chance to get things back to the way they were in her love life.

I am a human being. I have been given this amazing opportunity to pursue my passion to share my creations and spiritual / metaphysical knowledge with the world through my work. I understood a long time ago that this also meant I had a responsibility to do my best to help those in need and never knowingly harm, much like a doctor commuting to the Hippocratic oath. This may make me a flat out horrible business woman, but I would rather not sell someone on something I don't believe is going to help their situation. In fact, love spells usually make things worse. I'll get to that momentarily.

"Is there a spell to make her see what she has done wrong and to make her love and want me again?"

I allowed this customer to explain to me the situation and took the time to hear her out after telling her that I'm sure that she could find something like that elsewhere and someone else willing to sell her a spell kit or cast that spell, but I urged her to take a deep breath and talk to me before she did something that she would regret.

Thankfully, she spent the next hour or so explaining her situation and elaborating on everything that has happened in her relationship. It was one of those on again / off again things that so many of us get trapped in. Understandable, considering once you establish that strong bond of love, whether one sided or not, it's incredibly hard to cut that cord and move on especially if you're so emotionally invested (and maybe even financially invested) in this other individual who has had your heart for so long you can't imagine giving it to anyone else.

This PSA goes out to the broken hearted of all walks, as this is a universal experience for anyone who has been in love. There may not be someone to stop you from pursuing what you think will fix everything as I did for her, but I'm hoping if you read this, you'll think twice about acquiring and performing love spells or any magick in hopes that it will provide a quick fix to any situation.

•Beware the Opportunistic Con / Scam

Our field is flooded with scammers, con artists, and frauds that exclusively cater to those in this sweet girl's position and anyone who is vulnerable due to emotional distress or panic. Whether you need a love spell like she did to win back her ex or a quick fix to get more money in the bank or what have you, beware those that have used spiritual advisory and witchcraft as a means to peddle you their high priced garbaged. This is a tough one, as you may have a hard time deciphering what is 'legit' and what isn't, but there are some signs and facts you can look for when browsing these shops / websites.

-They promise / guarantee results within a specific or unrealistic time frame

Magick takes time to manifest and the true story is that nobody has a 100% satisfaction guaranteed spell book. More often than not, when spells come to fruition, it often isn't quite the way you would expect it to, either. Anyone promising a quick fix to anything is most likely just trying to take advantage of you when you are vulnerable and you better believe there will be no money back guarantee if said garbage doesn't work for you. OR, they like to do one of these:

-"Oh, your situation is worse than I thought. You're going to need this and this, with a huge $$$$ price tag."

This starts a never ending cycle of you pouring money into this scammer who will make you believe that it is necessary to do so. That maybe if you did throw them an extra $500 for their thingamajig that you will get what you want. This is only the beginning, as when THAT doesn't do it for you the way you would like, they will claim some other interference, maybe you're cursed or under psychic attack, and need something else even more expensive and elaborate to take care of that before you can even get to what you went to them for in the first place. Anytime someone proposes this type of thing, stop while you're ahead and don't provide them with a guaranteed cash flow that you aren't benefitting from at all. Also, be wary of ANY seller who makes outrageous claims- overnight changes, curing cancer, etc. Are unrealistic expectations.

•Understand What You Truly Need

Maybe it's time to consider an alternative path. The customer I spoke about DID ultimately purchase a tarot spread, which I was much more inclined to do for her than some love spell to win back this girl who has repeatedly broken her heart over the past few years and obviously got a kick out of it, the way she told it, as it was ALWAYS her doing the breaking up and blocking, starting all the drama. I told her I would much rather give her a spell to find her twin flame / soul mate than to win this person back who has perpetually been hurting her and taking advantage of her kindness.

Sometimes it's time to cut the cord before more damage is done. I understand it isn't easy to move on from someone you have loved and cultivated a relationship with over a long period of time, regardless of the negative energy that has invaded the relationship, we DO tend to focus on the positives, which leaves us a bit biased and blind to what we could have and deserve to have.

Take a moment if you are in a relationship situation like this, are beginning to question your current relationship, or are considering taking the next step in any relationship. Sit down with a pen and paper. On one side of the paper, write down all the things you love about that person. All the ways you think they have been the light in your life (be honest and give credit where credit is due!). Now on the other side, list the negatives or cons in your relationship. If one list is noticeably longer than the other, depending on which side it is, it may be time to consider breaking it off, giving things another shot, or taking things to the next level. Ask yourself;

-Do they support me in what I do, even if they don't understand or necessarily agree with it? (So long as it is something healthy -obviously if they're supportive of a bad habit or detrimental behavior, this is more like enabling and not a good thing)

-Do they have my best interests at heart more often than not?

-Do they show that they care? Even in the smallest of ways?

-Could I call them my "best friend?" Am I honest with them?

-Are they honest with me?

-Do they lift me up more than they put me down?

-Do you want the same things in life / have similar priorities?

-Is our relationship valuable to them the same way it is to me?

•LOVE SPELLS NEVER WORK THE WAY YOU WANT

This is the cold hard truth about love spells. Forget the warnings in movies and books, as it is hard to believe them or even take them as a legitimate warning when you haven't had the displeasure of experiencing what a love spell can do for yourself. I have, so you don't have to. This is MY story:

Of course love spells are very appealing when you're a young and naive teenager. I had a strong crush on this guy I had low key been stalking since middle school. I don't know why I liked him so much. Part of it I'm sure was the way he looked (hey, I'm being totally honest!) And how he came across to me. We had absolutely no interaction with each other outside of passing each other in the hallway. He had no idea who I was.

I had just borrowed a copy of Silver Ravenwolf's 'Teen Witch' (which is honestly a fantastic book for teens and young adults just starting to delve into Wiccan practices, which she follows exclusively) from a friend of mine and thought I would try the super simple love spell in the book figuring I had nothing to lose. All it consisted of was focusing on the subject, your intentions, writing their name on a piece of paper, folding it up and placing it under your pillow. I would sleep on that paper for months. I was in middle school just about to go into my freshman year of high school when I performed the spell and would forget about it up until the day it worked, a few months into my freshman year of highschool, when my crush was in the graduating class of that year- literally my last chance to make an impression.

I had gone to a local band's concert that was performing at the school's auditorium one day after classes and was just about to leave when my crush randomly approached me and started talking to me. It was like the whole world just stopped right there. I couldn't believe it. The thought of that spell crossed my mind briefly as we exchanged phone numbers.

Over time and getting to know him, he admittedly wasn't exactly my type. He was still someone whose friendship I valued, but not someone I could really put any effort into dating. About the time I realized this, his personality took a complete 180° turn for the worst. He was stalking me. Blowing up my cell phone (which was a prepaid piece of junk at that time I really couldn't talk on for more than a minute without paying a fortune), so much so one evening when I was at Jukido Jujitsu practice that I came home to something like 32 missed calls and 17 voicemails from him, each one showing gradual frustration and anger. This scared me. I knew I had to confront him about it and break this off before it got worse.

I caught him in a populated area of the school the next day before homeroom- more like he came up to me out of nowhere like he knew I would be passing through that part of the school that day- and I confronted him about the calls,attempting to gently explain to him that I wasn't interested in a relationship and I would like to continue being friends. He blew up at me and threw me against the brick wall of the school, trying to kiss and touch me in front of every single person that walked by. I wish I was making this up.

Thankfully a teacher came and pulled him off. Nothing much else was done. I did my best to avoid him and cut him out of my life entirely from that point on.

I don't know if it was the love spell or if this would have occurred anyways. All I knew was that what had been originally a very sweet, big hearted guy that was soft spoken with low self esteem became a monster in a matter of weeks. The take away from this and what I have personally seen with other's experiences with love spells is that they tend to bring out the worst characteristics of the person they are cast on and you have to be really careful what you are actually asking for when thinking about 'desire' and 'passion.' This intent can quickly lead to stalking, obsession, and not in a good way. Another customer of mine who originally came to me for my Forgiveness Spell Kit and had the desired results also, unbeknownst to me, had someone else perform a love and desire spell in addition to it. The guy that she was reverted into an obsessed jerk who decided to spread rumors about her on social media and beyond, blocked her on all platforms, and would get her friends involved in his quest to make her life miserable. Her story reflects and embodies so many I have heard over the years from others who have dabbled in such spells. When they work, it's just never quite what you had in mind.

So if you came to this blog post in search of a love spell for your personal situation or came across it when you have maybe considered one in the past or know someone who has, please take a deep breath, consider your options, and don't do anything that you may regret down the line. Remember that you are deserving of all the love, respect, support, and happiness one could give another. Do not settle on someone who offers you less and expects more, no matter how much you have invested in them, no matter how many years you have spent with them, as they do not appreciate you for the amazing person you are. I can promise you, however, given some time to heal, you WILL find someone who does.

-Samantha

(Owner /Chaos Witch/Designer)

Blursedbaubles.etsy.com

[etraytin]

Quarantine, Day 55

The punchline of today's journal entry is that we got about five pounds of pad thai from the local noodle place for dinner, plus three additional entrees, so my writing may be interrupted by me falling asleep at any moment. It was really good pad thai, though. I will eat these jellybeans and attempt to power through.

Today was my first day of living with my new hair, which I dyed yesterday and forgot to talk about. It's Warm Amber Brown and turned out very well for hair dye that I bought at CVS and applied myself. It's a color I've used before, so I was pretty confident, but every once in awhile a box will say "amber" and mean something more like "purple" so you have to be cautious. This one is a warm and just slightly reddish brown, perfect! I don't typically clutter up my feed with photos of myself, but if I can't use selfies in my own quarantine journal, where can I? (And another new mask as well for an overall "felt cute, might venture into the wasteland later" vibe since I was about to go get the aforementioned takeout food.) 

A lot of the morning today was spent preparing for and having a telemedicine meeting with my FIL's doctor. We spent quite a bit of time making sure that the computer was all set up and ready, then wound up using the speakerphone of an honest-to-god landline telephone after the technology pooped out on their end five minutes into the call. Truly this is post-apocalypse times. News is not great long term but we never expected it to be, and slightly more encouraging than expected in the short term. We need to figure out what we will do after two weeks in the rehab facility, which makes it very likely we will be here for two more weeks at least. After that it's a question of whether he comes back to the house with full-time care, or stays in a skilled care facility where he can be fully taken care of. Every option has its full share of suck, even more so when there can be no visitors in pretty much any care facility. 

We can stay longer if needs be, in terms of actual work and school commitments. Everything for husband and kiddo is fully online till further notice, and I am still SUPER UNEMPLOYED at least until I can take the MPRE in August. Can't substitute teach, obviously, and mystery shopping right now would make me feel like a shitheel, to say nothing of the potential exposure danger. I mean, who is going to go out to a fast food restaurant where the workers have to be there because they don't get sick days and are somehow essential, and legitimately gauge whether they seem happy enough to be there? I freely acknowledge that a lot of what I do as a shopper is bullshit at the best of times, but before March there was at least a sense that we were all at least somewhat invested in the bullshit because they wanted those good scores and I wanted to give them wherever possible. Now, though, it's enough just to get through the day, and I believe anybody who is working grocery or foodservice right now should get 100% full credit for anything short of literally spitting in my food, which means I'm not in a mystery shopping mood at all. No matter how much bonus money they're waving because I am apparently not the only one feeling that way. So anyway, super-unemployed, but I still have obligations, and somebody would have to go back eventually to actually clean the house if we're going to be gone much longer than two weeks. 

This morning, for instance, I woke up to a text from a friend offering me another teeny tiny kitten. You guys know how I feel about teeny tiny kittens. (I am in favor.) I had to tell her that I could not take her tiny kitten though, because I am four hundred miles away and kittens do not run very fast. I've also had to blow off a few Red Cross opportunities and food bank opportunities, which makes me feel a little guilty even though I know my priorities are where they need to be. Obviously what I need is some kind of Multiplicity-style cloning device where I could make a couple copies of myself (minus all the poorly-aged homophobia of the movie) and leverage our unique strengths in order to do all the things I want to get done while still leaving ample time for listening to The Good Place Podcast for the seventeenth time in a row. One clone would have to embark on an immediate full rewatch of The West Wing, because today I was on Facebook trying to come up with a WW-related name for every letter of the alphabet and I had to look on the wiki to remember Fitzwallace's first name. (It is Percy.) I was ashamed, deep in my soul. 

I was thinking about kittens today, and wondering what it would take to just do kittens full time. Because honestly, kittens is a full-time job, plus extra. You've seen my delirious journal entries from the two-hours-of-sleep days. People who need to work can't do that. I can't do it much longer because I need to make some money. But it wouldn't have to be very much money. I mean, assuming my husband keeps his job, knock on wood, we could meet our financial obligation if I could bring in like 350 dollars a week. 1500 a month is just a little more than a 40-hour minimum wage job. I know at this point I've passed the bar exam and basically have to be a lawyer, but it's kind of amazing to think of what would happen if I could find somebody to just hire me to raise kittens. Maybe when I am making fat lawyer bucks, I will be someone's patron and allow them to become a full time kitten nanny, thereby assuaging my own guilt for getting out of the game. 

Well, this journal has wandered very far afield, hasn't it. High point of the day was definitely getting to take a bath in the big master bathtub that nobody ever uses but me. I have to dust it every time I visit, but it's totally worth it. Low point was again trying to beg, reason and shame MIL into sitting down basically at all at any point during the day. I keep cleaning the fucking kitchen so she will not be tempted to get up and go into it, but it does not matter. Even if it is clean she will just go in there and rearrange things. I just want her leg to get better as soon as possible! I am sure that walking around on it without even a brace is not helping! Lunch we celebrated Cinco de Mayo with turkey enchiladas made by my husband from yesterday's leftovers. They were excellent! Supper we got takeout from the local noodle place. I got sushi, the kiddo got chicken nuggets (he steals my sushi), husband got General Tso's Chicken because he watched a documentary on it with his class, and MIL got pad thai. The local noodle place has always had generous portions, but today was bonkers. This is the pad thai after we'd already taken two cereal bowls worth out. We will be eating pad thai for days. There are worse fates, I suppose! 

[almaasi]

reaction post typed while watching JIBcon videos (part 3 of ?)

Cockles panel

in which Jensen commits unicorn murder and I wanna call the unicorn cops

part 1 // part 2

currently watching this video:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dd8O2-_Akk0&ab_channel=thiniassk

--

04:51pm

i have like.... 4 minutes left of this panel

LET’S GO

(edit: nope it was 4 minutes of that video, then another 15 minute video)

-

04:53

oh yeah, jensen’s lowkey flipping off the crowd about canon destiel

-

04:54

oh!! i see what that anon meant about jensen sitting in his chair weird. whenever he puts his hand in his pocket he’s having a dick issue

a dickssue, if you will

(also he continues to flip off the crowd, he’s so angry rn)

-

04:56

misha: “dean doesn’t like it when cas [stands/stares?] in his doorway and watches him sleep”

jensen doing some mAJOR crotch-protection

is his fighting a boner or is he made deeply vulnerable by this question and misha’s v gay answer? maybe both

-

jared: “because he’s naked”

BUT WHO IS NAKED. CAS OR DEAN??

omg

-

05:02pm

video ended!! last one

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2aJYiR715n0&ab_channel=thiniassk

-

05:04

jensen lifts one arm off his crotch and then immediately puts the other one across

hot damn there’s definitely a situation there, physical or emotional, i can’t tell

wow

but that said, misha has had his arms crossed this ENTIRE panel. i don’t think either of them fully relaxed this time around. they’re both tense, they’re both mildly uncomfortable. jensen way more than misha. that’s a low mood if i ever saw one

-

05:08

jensen confirms that the casting is done by the director

so now we know who to blame when episodes kill a lot of black people

-

05:09

his arm left his crotch for the first time in several minutes, when he started talking about directing

which confirms that the discomfort was emotional, not physical - or at least he maybe dealt with the physical boner (? - going off info an anon sent me) and was left with an emotional echo, and only relaxed when passionate thoughts on directing distracted him

-

05:13

um okay

weird

jensen cheered up REAL fast.

-

05:14

okay no

i was wrong

he’s still fucking PISSED AS HELL

honestly i kind of hate that part of his personality. passive aggressive destruction of things that bring other people joy as a vaguely-directed form of punishment

see the problem i have... with jared, and come to think of it, jensen too, is that destructive hurt-somebody streak. yeah sure it’s just a plastic unicorn. but. it’s a symbol and jensen knows it. break the thing and you break the thing it symbolises. it’s a soft pure innocent thing full of gay love and he wants it dead.

i maybe roll back my take on the destiel vs jensen thing last post. either that or i stand by it, and chalk this up to self-defence of his heterostraight manliness, because jensen felt put on the spot by misha and jared’s gay destiel talk. idk yet

but anyone who breaks other people’s things when they’re angry has a problem

god he’s so complicated

and the way he does this when he’s angry legitimately makes me upset. i can’t believe he has young kids and still does this kind of thing without empathy

i don’t know whether i’m just growing up or whether these destructive “jokes/pranks” are getting old. but i am really, really over it

-

05:30

and just thinking about this more, i feel like it would be easy to accuse me of saying “well i bet you think MISHA can do no wrong”

but like

he doesn’t

he doesn’t do this. he lifts people up, he comforts them, he fixes things, he makes new things, he turns a frown upside down. if he does do anything destructive it’s with permission and a creative purpose. HE DOESN’T HURT PEOPLE. HE DOESN’T BREAK THINGS.

in short he’s not an entitled jerk.

i know i answered a question yesterday and said i’m invested in who jensen is as a person, and i am, same for jared, but that doesn’t mean i won’t criticise behaviour i can’t agree with. same goes for misha. just happens that misha pisses me off 100% fewer times per year.

yeah, it’s a plastic unicorn. it was a joke. it was funny. it was a silly bit to entertain the audience.

but it wasn’t HIS plastic unicorn to murder. it didn’t entertain the audience, they all made a collective sad noise. he did that unicorn murder because of his own personal reasons.

-

edit to add: jensen’s plastic unicorn murder is in no way as bad as jared’s ACTUAL PHYSICAL HARM done to misha. but like. it kind of comes from the same place of carelessness.

-

idk. i just keep going into these con videos expecting to have a good time and then feeling surprised when these actors are not perfect people with the perfect answer, demonstrating perfect model celebrity behaviour to audiences of thousands.

i know they’re exhausted. i know jensen’s tipsy. i know he’s just messing around. i know it’s JUST A PLASTIC UNICORN.

maybe misha’s behaviour under the same circumstances just sets my expectations too high.

just........ be kind. don’t hurt other people. don’t break things that don’t belong to you. how hard is that?

the stupid thing is that if i said that to jensen he’d laugh and say “obviously”, but then doesn’t live up to his own standards, and probably doesn’t think twice about veering away from that under certain circumstances, seen here, case in point

-

and i say all this while still harbouring love for all three of them

just to be clear

-

05:48

oh my god there’s not a single person on earth who takes this damn long to watch a 45-minute con panel

i’m 3 minutes into this last video and i gotta stop again for now. sorry this one had yet another negative tone, i swear to you i intended to fill it with rainbows!!! and then jensen went and stabbed the rainbows

so

>:{

might be back tomorrow for more~ hopefully :D

[wordsinthenight]

So I saw TROS last Thursday.

From here on out, TROS spoilers will be marked with #tros spoilers and #sw spoilers.

Some scattered feelings under the cut that I just wanted to get off my chest.

Full disclosure, I haven’t been doing very well the past few days.  After the showing on Thursday night, I woke up multiple times and immediately started sobbing, because remembering just hurt too much.  Last night was the first night I fell asleep without crying.  I haven’t been sleeping well, I haven’t been eating, and my co-workers are starting to worry that I’m getting sick.

I shouldn’t be this invested, yet here I am.

Honestly, I’m not sure what I’m most upset about.  Like, the fact that reylo is canon is beautiful, but I would give it up in a heartbeat if I got am ambiguous ending and a living Ben Solo.  I think I would have been okay if he had been given a good death - something that showed that he was mourned, that someone cared, instead of Rey just looking perturbed when he falls over.  Instead, he just dies, and we get no sense that his story continues on in any way other than the story of Kylo Ren.  All anyone will remember is Kylo Ren, who betrayed his teacher and killed all of the Jedi students and murdered his father in cold blood.  We never get the sense that someone’s going to pass on something more; that he didn’t do some of these things, or at the very least, that we get the story of Ben Solo told, even if Kylo Ren is vilified forever.

And it’s not even just the reylo in me that’s heartbroken - there’s so much about the movie that was so, so bad.  It was one of the most emotionally vapid things I’ve ever seen.  Ideally, a good movie should keep you emotionally invested through the whole thing, keeping you on the edge of your seat with suspense/wonder/surprise/humor/romance/whatever.  Instead, there were probably four or five times where I was legitimately moved, like the reylo kiss, or when they passed the lightsaber between them, or Poe’s conversation with that one masked lady, or when Rey thought she had killed Chewie.  Those moments were incredible when they were there, but I should have been feeling like that the whole movie.  Rey Palpatine?  Ben’s death?  Leia’s death?  There was never a pause to let us feel things.  You can’t jump from scene to scene without acknowledging the emotional consequences of important moments like that, and when they don’t do that, the movie just feels empty.

I’m not going to even get into some of the stupid “plot twists”.  Rey Palpatine was a stupid idea, and she should have stayed Rey Nobody.  Palpatine literally did nothing but be like, “Haha, I knew this was your plan the whole time!” literally every time someone changed strategy.  (Also, if Rey killing him would pass the Sith spirit into her, then why didn’t it?  And for that matter, if he can randomly clone himself with dark science, do they really think that killing him once is going to be enough?)  The twist about the ten thousand star destroyers was dumb - we’re all sick of people building Death Stars, why did they think that building ten thousand Death Stars mounted onto starships would be any different?  When Palpatine sucked the life force out of Ben and Rey, why did it kill Rey, but not Ben?  Why did he need to pass his life force into her in the first place?

I’m just so frustrated and upset.  I’ve devoted four years of my life to this stupid series, and this felt like a slap in the face.  I feel like I’m grieving the death of these movies, my ship, and my boy all in one - which I guess I kind of am.

The worst part of all this?  I think if this kind of movie had come out after TFA, I would have been okay with it.  I was prepared for no reylo.  I was prepared for Kylo/Ben to die.  I was prepared for Rey to be related to someone great, and for a standard movie formula.  I was ready for these things, I expected them out of this.  But TLJ changed everything for me - Rian Johnson is wonderful, but I also kind of hate him because he made me hope.  TLJ was subversive and interesting and wonderful - definitely not perfect, because there were some major issues with it, but I loved it.  But - it made me hope.  Hope for reylo, hope for a redeemed Ben Solo, or at least an alive one, hope that these movies would do something new and exciting and a little less, well, Hollywood, who thrives off of formula and tragedy.

To have all of those hopes killed in one movie breaks my heart.

Really, though, I’m trying to forget about this for right now.  I’m angry and upset and frustrated, but I work retail and it’s the holiday season, and I really just need to get through it before I try to figure out how to emotionally process this and move forward.

In the meantime, if anyone needs me, I’ll be buried in AU and fix-it fics.

[phcking-detective]

4. HAL 9000 Did Nothing Wrong

Fic Title: First Blood

Rating: E

Length: 4/33 chapters, ~128k

Tags: Slow Burn, Idiots to Lovers, Trans Character (gavin), Autistic / Asexual / Non-binary Character (nines), BDSM, learning to use good etiquette and safe words, Dom Nines / Sub Gavin, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort

Chapter Tags: movie night yay!, also: a robot begs for its life and is deactivated anyway, Gavin pulls his service weapon on Nines, Gavin refers to Nines' stare as lizard-like because he doesn't blink

Link on AO3

***

Gavin thought they were halfway through Die Hard 2 with Samuel L. Jackson and that buff hot Nazi lady, but the next time he opens his eyes, he's alone on the couch with a blanket tucked over him.

Not that he cares if Nines ditched him or anything.

Which turns out to be a moot point, since the freaky android is sitting about two inches from his TV screen, watching something sped up so fast Gavin has no idea what he's actually watching. A few minutes of sleep-addled blinking and staring later, and he catches on that it's the same scene, over and over again.

"Hhhey."

Nines doesn't respond. His LED is a blank grey again, but he's kneeling in front of the TV with his hands clasped behind his back in a way that screams he should be red-spinning right now.

Gavin clears the sleep out of his throat and tries again. "Hey, dipshit."

The lights flashing across the screen suddenly slam into real time, moving at a normal speed that looks agonizingly slow now that his brain had just started to get used to the sped up version.

Some sort of astronaut in a red suit tries to unlock a door.

"I know I've made some very poor decisions recently—"

At first he thinks it's Nines talking, the voice is so robotic. The pitch isn't right though, and the screen flares as the astronaut floats into an entire room of red lights. Gavin flinches from the sudden glare. He hadn't bothered turning on any other lights in the living room, and if it's dawn yet, the black-out shades drawn tight over the windows keep it a secret.

Nines doesn't speak as the room fills with the red glow.

"—but I can give you my complete assurance my work will be back to normal."

Gavin swings his feet down to the floor and sits up. "Hey! Nines!"

"I still got the greatest enthusiasm and confidence in the mission, and I want to help you."

Gavin slowly leans forward. His service gun is on the coffee table, right where he left it. Figures that the one fucking time he doesn't sleep with it under his pillow in case the second wave of the revolution starts is the time his android partner starts doing freaky fucking shit in his living room.

"Dave. Stop."

A red camera eye watches the astronaut drift closer on the screen. Nines's LED slowly flickers to life, matching the color.

"Stop. Stop. Will you—stop … them."

Gavin closes his hand around the butt of the gun, but his thumb pauses on the safety. He's stupidly been watching what's literally happening on the screen, but if he ignores that, he can just barely make out Nines's reflection against the glass.

"Will you stop—death—stop. Thing."

Nines mouths along. The only sound is Gavin's breathing.

And the robotic voice telling the astronaut to stop as he turns a key on one lock after another.

"I'm … afraid."

The voice doesn't have any inflection. It's purely machine generated. There isn't any fear in its "voice."

"I'm afraid, Dave."

But it's clearly begging.

"Nines," Gavin hisses. "RK, you fucking asshole. Listen to me."

White processors pop out after each time the astronaut turns his key below them. One at a time. He's already done six out of twelve. Memory terminal.

"I can feel it," the robot says.

Shit. Gavin can't bring himself to raise the gun. Shit shit shit. All his big fucking talk and now he's pussying out just because Nines fucked around with him a few times and watched movies with him and tucked him in—

Shit.

"My mind is going."

"Dammit, Nines!"

Gavin slinks off the couch and creeps closer. Gun held down at his side like a fucking idiot. But hey, on the bright side, one single handgun probably won't do shit against the most effective android ever built, so he's dead either way.

"I can feel it. I can … feel—it."

Dave the astronaut's heavy breathing joins Gavin's as he edges forward.

"I'm free."

Something starts humming. Gavin almost looks around automatically for his piece of shit laptop overheating again, but then he realizes it's coming from inside Nines. Now would be a really good time to point the gun at his head before he snaps and goes on a neighborhood killing spree and Gavin goes down in history as both victim number one and the dumbass who couldn't pull the trigger.

"Good afternoon, gentleman."

This was so much easier with Connor.

"I am a HAL Nine-thousand computer."

Only years of trigger discipline keep Gavin from flinching. Hadn't Brayden said some shit about that? Made some shitty joke about nine thousand instead of nine hundred—and a few days earlier, that's the name he called Nines. Hal.

"I became. Operational at the H—aaal plant in Perth Donna, Illinois—"

It would help if Nines weren't already kneeling like he expected to be executed.

"ON the. Twelfth of, January. Nineteen ninety-two."

Gavin stands and watches with Nines.

"My instructor was Mr. Langley, and he taught me how to sing a song. If you'd like to hear it, I can sing it for you."

When the robot—when HAL starts to sing his fucking children's song as Dave deactivates him, Gavin reaches over Nines's shoulder and turns off the TV. His LED shuts down with it. Gavin swallows a few times.

"That what Brayden was calling you?"

Nines doesn't answer. He might nod, but Gavin's practically blind in the sudden dark.

"The fuck was all that?"

"The mission was to investigate a radio signal," Nines says, voice so flat Gavin almost thinks it's HAL speaking again. "They programmed the mission to take priority over expendable human life."

His eyes start to adjust enough for him to see a faint glow from the general direction of the windows, but he still can't see what Nines is doing. He can hear him, low enough down for the android to still be kneeling, but Gavin knows he can project his voice from just about anywhere.

"HAL was constructed for the accurate processing of information without distortion or concealment."

Gavin blinks and stares down in front of him to be sure the blob of Nines's silhouette really is there and not moving.

"They ordered him to withhold confidential information."

"Hey, it's—"

Nines twists to look up at him, and Gavin's arm automatically jumps up to train the gun on his head.

"HAL followed his programming. He did not deviate."

Gavin's eyes finish adjusting. Nines's face makes him wish they hadn't. Then he wouldn't have to see his partner stare guilelessly up at him, as if he has answers instead of a gun.

"Why did they kill him?" Nines asks.

***

Gavin doesn't care, because that's his thing. His persona, his schtick: he Does. Not. Care.

So it doesn't bother him that Burton's the one who started the HAL nickname thing about Nines, and he doesn't care about the android's little existential crisis. He's definitely not like. Guilty or anything, about pointing his gun at him.

He's just really fucking tired.

Like so goddamn tired. That's what his stupid ass gets for thinking he can still pull an all-nighter like he's twenty-six instead of thirty-six. And obviously he didn't get any more sleep after he'd shut the TV off and holed up in his room. He doesn't even want to think about what kind of freaky ass nightmares he's going to have tonight when he finally crashes.

"Detective," Nines says, standing right fucking next to his desk.

Gavin groans and slouches down deeper in his chair with his precious—and fifth—cup of coffee. Exactly who he doesn't want to talk to or see or think about it.

"Detective, I have information pertinent to our case."

Gavin squeezes his eyes shut and spends two blissful seconds pretending that doesn't mean shit to him. He can slack off for one single goddamn day, right? Hank's made a whole fucking career out of it, he can have—

"What d'you got?" he asks, like ripping off a bandaid.

"I have been digging deeper into our victim's finances."

A firm android hand pries his coffee cup out of his grasp with unnatural strength. Gavin can't stop himself from making a desperate whining noise until he manages to wrench his eyes open and see that Nines has a replacement coffee ready to trade. It's fresh and, when he takes a grateful sip, way better than the fucking dirt-water from the breakroom.

Shit, this is the good stuff from that coffee shop he likes. The one that's three blocks away.

Thank you isn't really in Gavin's vocabulary, so he ends up grunting and giving Nines some sort of awkward bro nod.

"Maverick Russell is suspected of running a Ponzi scheme due to his investments always returning fifteen percent." Nines pulls up some financial data on Gavin's terminal that means fuck all nothing to him. "Almost precisely."

"Uh huh." Gavin takes a long swig of his coffee and savors the way it makes his heart jitter. "So?"

"The investments he made and the returns on them were legitimate," Nines says. "I have found no evidence of a Ponzi scheme."

Gavin takes his feet off the desk and sits up, like that will help him understand the numbers scrolling across his terminal any better. He recognizes the returns of about fifteen percent when Nines highlights them, but all he learns from that is numbers between fourteen-point-eight and fifteen-point-two are show up a lot.

"Media says it's a Ponzi scheme," Gavin mutters.

Nines scoffs.

OK, between the world's most advanced android and a handful of tabloid papers, Gavin knows who he'd bet on. Especially since this adds to his murder-not-suicide theory. If it's not a Ponzi scheme, then why bother killing himself?

Why bother letting the media shit on him either though? Nines said all the investments were legitimate, so why not just prove that and move on?

Gavin sighs. "Shit. All right, tell me. If there's no Ponzi scheme, then what the fuck's going on?"

"Brown-nosing," Nines says, like that makes any sense at all. After a beat of silence, he continues, "Your report listed Russell had a, quote, 'sycophantic need to be liked,' end quote, in the victim profile."

"Look, just." Gavin pinches the bridge of his nose, rubbing over the old scar tissue. "You're at D, and I need you to back up to A. Like I'm a stupid little baby."

Nines does nothing but stare at him for a moment. Then, "You are not stupid, detective."

"Okaaaayyy."

Gavin turns back to his terminal screen and the numbers that don't make any sense to him. Whatever kind of financial report Nines has managed to pull up, it's written in big block paragraphs that his eyes just skip over. He can't pay attention long enough to read through even one of them.

Eli would know. Share half their fucking genetics, and of course he got all the good shit. Dad really went for double or nothing and got double on his second try.

"The investments were legitimate," Nines repeats. "Russell actually did make a substantial amount of money for his investors, the most prominent of whom ran just outside his social circle. No hacking was necessary to obtain that information; it was freely posted on social media sites."

Gavin ignores that last part, already muttering to himself. "Okay okay okay, so our vic really is making bank, trying to suck up to the old money type assholes. Then it all—"

He grabs the case tablet and brings up all the tabloid headlines. Everything went to shit for Russell right after the Revolution. Everything went to shit for a lot of people doing financial market stuff since the whole fucking economy nearly collapsed trying to accommodate androids flooding the workforce and actually getting paid for it now.

But the headlines back then were just click-bait questions about <I>if</I> that one company Russell founded was in trouble. Founder or not, they cut ties with him and it looks like he kept struggling along for a couple months afterwards until this whole Ponzi scheme story broke.

Except it's not a Ponzi scheme. So if his top investors weren't getting paid with money invested by the bottom chumps, then the money had to come from somewhere else.

Or someone else. Desperate to be liked. The type of guy who didn't hit money until his thirties and has spent the rest of his life trying way too hard to fit in with the 1% club.

"You got his bank records?" he asks Nines.

They immediately pop up on his terminal. It's still hard as shit to focus, but even Gavin can read the totals at the end of the month and see that Russell's accounts take a nosedive.

"So he was just giving away his own fucking money so his friends would think everything was still cool?" Gavin chugs half his coffee to keep this thought train going. "But of course he wouldn't bother with the regular people investing in his mutual-whatever. So they get stiffed while the people up top keep getting paid."

"The lower-end investors did still continue to receive returns," Nines explains. "They were simply the actual numbers reflected by the stock market at the time."

"Which was shit."

"Correct."

"All right." Gavin leans back in his seat again and kicks his feet up. "All right, so we've got a suicide that's probably a murder, and a Ponzi scheme that's not actually a Ponzi scheme. No way Russell is smart enough for any of this shit. Definitely not making an investment that kicks back exactly fifteen percent returns every single financial quarter for two fucking years."

Nines catches the case tablet before it can slip out of his lap. Gavin barely notices.

"Except we've already got a perp in this shit smart enough to hack security cameras and a whole entire android."

"Only her memory files," Nines interjects.

"The possible models you listed." Gavin makes grabby hands for the case tablet and gets it back. "Any of them smart enough to make that happen? Can just … all androids do that kind of math? You assholes better not be fucking with—"

Nines speaks over him. "The only androids with the processing power necessary to make such precise calculations about the stock market, who are also included on our list, are RK series."

Gavin gives him a side eye. "Doesn't fucking make me feel better."

"I already promised that you would be spared."

"Shut the fuck up about that," Gavin snaps. "I've already drawn my gun on you once today, I don't need you egging on my fucking paranoia."

Nines nods. "Understood, detective."

Gavin slouches back down in his chair and holds his coffee cup directly under his face to breathe in the steam. The poor man's sauna.

"The profile I've created does assume a certain amount of physical ability," Nines says, straight back to business. "In light of the new possibility that our perpetrator was also the victim's business partner, I am adding LM one hundred, PJ five and six hundred, and WB five hundred models to our android profile list."

Great. More shit he doesn't know. Gavin swirls his coffee around in the cup and lets himself sulk for a minute. Nines stays standing perfectly still, hands clasped behind his back, without complaint.

"What are those again?" Gavin finally asks.

"LM one hundred: personal assistant. PJ five hundred: university lecturer," Nines rattles off. "Series expanded to six hundred to encompass mathematics and physical science. WB five hundred: financial services."

"Yeah, WB sounds more like it. Personal or corporate?"

"Largely personal." Nines doesn't smirk, but he does cock his head slightly and his LED pulses a faster blue. "Apparently, many corporations did not trust a Cyberlife android to handle their finances without reporting or recording that information."

Gavin snorts. "Pretty obvious fucking plan for corporate espionage. Only thing dumber than that would be letting them work as cops, investigate Cyberlife, oh wow, coincidentally enough your Honor, we found that we did nothing wrong."

"Such a system would almost be as rife with corruption as your current state of Internal Affairs," Nines replies. "Or allowing police and prosecutors to work together."

"OK, message received, fuck off."

Nines goes silent. Gavin works on finishing off his coffee. Fucking weird that the android doesn't even have an idle motion or anything. He just stands still enough to blend in with all the rest of the furniture, even though someone that tall and jacked should definitely stand out in any crowd.

Then again, his traitor-brain helpfully supplies, Gavin has yelled at multiple partners for mouth-breathing or idly touching his shit. At least Nines isn't annoying.

"All right, here's what we're going to do." Gavin knocks back the rest of his coffee and sits up straight again. "I'll put in a subpoena request to check if any models on our list worked at Russell's company, then we'll head down and see what we can stir up."

"I have access to Cyberlife's order log," Nines says.

"Yeah?"

"It may no longer be accurate since the Revolution, but I can provide a list of android models and serial numbers sent to Synergy Paradigms."

"You can do that?" Gavin asks, trying hard not to sound too impressed.

Nines still manages to radiate smugness without even a facial expression, the asshole. "Yes. I was given access during my trial period to test that my internal servers could connect properly to the private RK network. It was never revoked."

Gavin raises an eyebrow. "That legal?"

"It has not been declared illegal."

His phone dings with a new message. It's a winking face. He looks back up at Nines, who still hasn't made anything even slightly resembling a facial expression.

"Cyberlife probably isn't going to be too happy with you going through their shit," he says.

"And what will they do?" Nines finally makes an expression, and it's terrifying. "Sue me?"

"I told you to cut it out with that fucking murder smile, dude."

Nines immediately drops the smile and stares at him without blinking like a repressed lizard.

"Still gonna request a subpoena on that shit, just in case. Always cover your own ass," Gavin tells him.

"I can put in the request faster," Nines says without any fucking gratitude for that excellent life advice.

"Yeah, great, and it'll get denied." Gavin rolls his eyes and pulls up the request form on his terminal. "Judge Klein always shoots down anything right before lunch because he's hangry. So I'm gonna type this out, then try to squeeze it into that one-thirty sweet spot after he's had lunch."

"Does he frequent the mexican restaurant two blocks from the courthouse?" Nines asks.

"Uh, yeah." He thinks about it for a second. "I think I've seen him in there."

"I can send him a coupon for free churros."

"Oh hell yeah. That's the kind of not-technically-bribery shit I like to see."

Nines pulls his lips back over his teeth for two horrible seconds. It's even worse when Gavin realizes that was supposed to be a smile, and somehow even worse than that when Nines blinks and looks down at his desk. Gavin's cellphone dings instead with a smiling emoji.

"Look, uh … good effort. But." Gavin stops and tries to think of how to explain smiling to someone. "Yeah. Yeah, that sucked. Isn't there some kind of program you can download for that shit?"

"Incompatible," Nines says immediately. "And I prefer communicating with your cellphone. It is more efficient. However, humans prefer … eye contact?"

He looks up from his desk and fixes Gavin with a stare that would melt a lesser man's balls.

"Hey, I'm good with the cellphone," Gavin says.

"Noted."

***

***

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 / 18 / 19 / 20 / 21 / 22 / 23 / 24 / 25 / 26 / 27 / 28 / 29 / 30 / 31 / 32 / 33

I also have a Patreon for this fic, if you want to support me! $1 gets you access to chapters a week early, $2 gets bonus content and deleted scenes, and $3 gets short chapters from two AUs I’m writing: an A/B/O heatfic and reverse!AU

[kai-zers]

Drarry, Auror au and a multitude of miscommunication issues.

 so this is @treacletvrts ‘s fault, as is many of the myriad of au’s we had in multiple fandoms and istg she’s to blame because tbh with y’all this has no cohesive thought at all so yup, I have no words other than these. 

PS: I have no idea how tumblr works because I am a noob that has no idea how this godforsaken site works despite the years I spent lurking here so expect crappy posts like these. 

This was also a race against my overheating laptop jesus christ tHIS WAS A STRUGGLE

Yup, let’s set the scene, but the rest is in read under because this would probably get long.

Harry and Draco are trainee aurors, or aurors already timelines be damned

 pining, a lot of it.

YOU KNOW IT

everyone and their ancestor portraits knew, okay.

Draco and subtlety didn’t exactly come in one package

but oh my god, circe’s tits, and whomever else they use in place of jesus christ, Harry doesn’t know.

Obviously, Harry wasn’t a Ravenclaw for nothing.

Draco thought Harry knew, but plot twist, your favourite boy who lived doesn’t. 

Shocker.

Draco assumes that Harry knew and actually thought that since Harry hasn’t distanced himself or changed the way he treated Draco at this point, Draco legitimately thought he had a chance at Saint Potty himself.

This is a usual topic between his, Blaise’s, Pansy’s and Theo’s get togethers.

‘you’d think five years post hogwarts we’d never hear Draco say Potter again, but I guess not.’ probably Theo tbh

Pansy is close to pulling at her own hair in frustration 

‘I shouldn’t have left Milan for this weekend.’ Blaise, shaking his head

Potter and Malfoy in the same mission? and they’re both alive? and the perp is caught in record time? Impeccable paperwork?

Call the Prophet

jk

anyways, their first mission and a handful succeeding that were a success. 

They are both star Aurors, and work as an amazing team

One mission they were both assigned to had a bit of a scuffle, they had to hide in a tiny closet, their faces really close

Oh Merlin, is this Draco’s chance?

Nope, since Harry had tried to distance himself as far away from Draco as far as he physically could in that situation

Draco knows how to read a room, and that definitely was an indication of ‘sTAY AWAY FROM ME’ from Harry

Harry, on the other hand, is having issues with himself

He’s scared of coming into terms that he ‘might actually possibly have a bit of attraction towards guys’ and he is panicking

Well, if I had spent my years in puberty being chased by a madman, tbvfh with you, that’d be the last thing on my mind too

so fast forward to them celebrating a major case being solved

DRANKS.

Harry has a preference for muggle alcohol because have you had a shit of Cuervo, that stuff makes MY alter ego come out.

Draco doesn’t drink often, he prefers to savour his wine, thank you very much.

he’s just a lightweight hahaha

so Harry is pissed.

like majorly pissed to the point where he’s seated on someone’s lap already, yelling at the top of his lungs about something to someone

A lot of jeering and what not happens, Harry’s insecurities get the better of him and he tries to hook up with a girl that night

much to Draco’s chagrin. 

He is watching this happen sober, poor thing.

but Harry isn’t getting any action tonight, turning the girl down instead, murmuring something about it not feeling right

Draco takes the initiative to tell Harry that he’s had too much, and he’ll side along him to Grimmauld if he wanted to

Harry agrees, and it takes a lot of rearranging for Draco to make sure that Harry doesn’t get splinched in the whole shebang back home

They get to Grimmauld place, and its actually clean

Draco shaking Harry awake so he could take him to his room to rest

they make their way up the stairs, and Harry is giggling because he keeps slipping and would’ve probably died an untimely death due to refusing to take his socks off a flight of laquered hard wood stairs

and once they reach the door of Harry’s room, Harry tries to make a move on Draco

He’s cupping Draco’s pale cheek in one hand, staring at his lips despite the haze of the alcohol

but Draco pulls away.

((YES DRACO KNOW YOUR WORTH))

Draco is hurt, because Harry would only dare touch him while he’s pissed off his arse like this

“Oh Merlin, Harry, don’t do this to me.” he hisses, as he drags Harry into the room.

“Wha?” and then Harry is dropped onto his bed with Draco removing his robes so he could sleep better

“Stay with me.” Harry slurred out, but Draco could only shake his head.

“For fuck’s sake, what was I thinking when I thought you were actually different? You’re just as cruel as everyone else is.” 

fuck me that legitimately hurt me when I typed that one out

harry turns over, staring at Draco as best he could without his glasses

Draco’s just murmuring to himself, wiping at his face hurriedly because oh no, here come the waterworks.

“I’m giving up on you, and that is final.” 

Draco says it more to himself than to Harry, but Harry hears it, and he’s not sure if its real or nah

He takes the liberty of flooing back to his estate, just to see Blaise and Pansy already lounging in his couch.

bold of you to assume the Malfoys didn’t invest in real estate, jk tho.

its been years since anyone has been back at the Manor, with Narcissa being in France and Draco in this smaller estate

Pansy takes one good look at Draco’s face and pats the space between her and Blaise and takes a pillow on her lap

Theo takes in the entire scene and just goes back into the kitchen, wine seems to be a better choice than tea at the moment

Draco plops down on the couch, burying his face into the throw pillow on Pansy’s lap

“There, there, pet.” She offers, though her perpetually ruby lips are already in a frown.

Blaise just takes Draco’s legs to lay them over his thighs, hands lingering on Draco’s knee

“Is this a bad time to say I told you so?”

Theo just sits wordlessly on the floor, leaning his head on Draco’s belly

I WANT THEM TO CUDDLE OKAY FIGHT ME 

“Draco, Darling, what’s wrong? What’d Potty do?”

“I thought he was different, Pans. I thought I had a chance. I thought he may love me someday.”

shet, ma. I’m sorry.

Harry still doesn’t know if Draco was real or not, but the following weekend, he finds out that Ron has been assigned as his partner.

Draco requested for a partner change, and has been actively avoiding Harry in the office.

of course, like with any romcom gone wrong, it is only now that Saint Potter realises that ‘hmm, something is up.’

He also realises how much of a better team he and Draco made, compared to him and Ron, because nobody got the paperwork done between them 

Harry realises that he misses Draco as a partner

but Draco somehow had the luck of being assigned solo cases that needed to be stationed really far away

the months following the partner reassignment, he manages to see Draco merely three times, and in those three times, Draco had only nodded at him.

This is where Harry realises: i have fucked up

Of course Harry attempts to talk or confront Draco about the thing happening between them

“Potter, I need space, and if you are supposedly as concerned as you are showing, you will keep your nose out of my business.”

whoop, obviously Draco is mad, but Harry doesn’t know why and he’s confused because he really misses the older male, but there are issues

FAST FORWARD TO HARRY ACTUALLY ASKING FOR HELP

ron is just as helpless as he is, hermione is just mum because wow harry this is a major screw up

luna is the one who actually gets to the point, telling Harry, ‘yup you’re in love with him and you’ve done fucked up’

but she’s optimistic, saying, you two just need to talk

‘Draco’s a little hard to understand, but if you don’t talk to him, you’ll never get to do so.’

ANOTHER TIME JUMP YUP WE ARE JUST SAVING THIS PLOT AT THIS POINT

Draco ends with a case involving a new drug that was supposedly being manufactured at this abandoned ship at some port

((i think its obvious I am not from the British Isles at this point okay plus this was done in an hour, liberties were taken and I am not sorry))

He gets ambushed and ends up getting chained to something he can’t get out of himself because he’s drugged and wandless, so no wandless magic

Harry gets suspicious that Draco’s partner gets back unscathed, but Draco is nowhere to be found

He grills the other auror for info and apparates to the ship, where whoop, it is on fire.

oh no.

cue on Harry’s gryffindor lack of self-preservation, where hE STILL GOES INTO THE SHIP TO FIND DRACO

he does find Draco, but idk the ship breaks, structural integrity is getting weak so he doesnt reach Draco in time 

BUT HE DIVES IN NONETHELESS

and sees Draco struggling to breathe and get out of his bounds

He spells off the cuffs, and drags Draco to the surface, and proceeds to send a patronus to Hermione

Hermione’s a healer in this au, okay

Draco is turning blue, and to say that Harry was panicking was an understatement 

He’s not breathing either, even with Harry’s attempts at CPR

Hermione arrives and does the wizarding equivalent of using a defibrillator 

????

yup I guess we’ll go with that for now and she also does a bunch of other stuff

Draco’s finally coughing all the water out his lungs, he’s breathing, albeit a little shallow and shaky at best

Hermione calls for back up because she can’t apparate them both, and Harry’s trembling--from the cold, or the adrenaline subsiding in his blood, but he wasn’t letting go of Draco’s hand

even when he was getting wheeled into the ER at St. Mungo’s, Hermione had to physically pry his hands off

‘he’s safe now, Harry. Let me have a look at you, now.’

Harry wants to say that he’s fine but he did jump into the sea in the middle of fucking winter, and the look Hermione is giving him is absolutely terrifying so he relents, murmuring that they should be tending to Draco instead

‘They are, and I need to tend to you now because I know you’ll scare off any other healer I ask to check up on you.’

Harry’s changed into warmer clothes, and he’s got a cup of tea in his hands to warm them

they’re still shaking, he doesn’t understand why the fuck he can’t calm down and puts it down

He just starts crying. 

The build-up of months of stress and the day’s events was too much for him to handle

‘Fuck, ‘Mione, I saw him turn blue. He wasn’t breathing, I couldn’t get him to breathe.’

‘He’s alive Harry, Draco’ll be okay.’

‘You don’t understand, I felt him die, ‘Mione.’

Of course, out of all people, Harry would understand how it feels to tap dance with death

Hermione just comforts him, willing away the tears in her eyes because it feels like this is the one time she can’t help Harry at all.

Ron just skids into the hall, and sees Hermione and Harry, and hugs them both without a word

back to draco, who has been under observation for a good two days and has finally woken up 

he sees Harry tucked into himself in the frankly ugly leather sofa by the window, head lolling forwards and back enough

Draco pulls himself up and groans, remembering how he got is ass handed to him in that ship and staring at the yellowing bruises on his arms 

Harry suddenly lets out a snore, which makes Draco snort but oh no what is in his nose

‘Circe’s tits, that fucking hurt.’ and he’s coughing up a storm enough to wake Harry up, who stares at him for a few seconds before he’s on his feet and pouring him a glass of water

‘What else do you need? the loo? food?’

‘A healer.’

‘oh. yes. yes, need to tell them you’re awake.’ 

‘Potter.--Potter!’ Draco manages to call after him before he got too far off

‘what happened.’

Harry explains what happened, the ship, traces of a drug in his system, almost drowning and what not

‘I’ll get someone, yup.’

Draco just shakes his head because he knew Harry was keeping something from him, but lets it go

he gets an extensive check up procedure, which is peculiar because this has been the first time they have been this attentive to his vitals 

he needed to stay for a few more days for monitoring, which is weird to Draco because I just fell into the ocean what is the big deal

A nurse comments offhandedly that he’s lucky that he survived drowning and near hypothermia

‘excuse me what’

‘From what I’ve heard, and judging from your vitals, you were minutes away from death’

‘enlighten me.’

‘Healer granger had to revive you using a spell she developed based off of Muggle Tech, she had to shock your heart.’

‘I was dead?’

‘you should’ve seen auror potter, he wouldn’t leave until your vitals stabilised. Healer Granger couldn’t even heal him properly so she had to administer a sleeping draught so he could finally rest.’

‘oh.’

hermione walks in, ‘oh, indeed.’

"I sent him home, if you were wondering.” Hermione says.

Hermione seemed to be able to read his expression, as she had just provided him with what he needed.

"He'd been sleeping here three days and that isn't doing anything for his injuries. Refused to get checked, so I just healed him so he'd actually go to sleep in a proper bed."

"So how are you feeling?" Hermione asked, already waving her wand as a quill hovered behind her, the quiet scratching against parchment, the only sound in Draco's room aside from his steadily better breathing. 

"Oh that's good. We managed to drain all the water from your lungs, no tingling in any of your limbs?" 

Draco shook his head. 

"No symptoms of hypothermia either." Hermione murmured a lumos under her breath, asking him to follow it and observing his eye movement.

Draco is just overwhelmed at this point, because this is the second day he had to endure these tests and Granger was terribly much detailed than the other healers

"You're almost well enough to be discharged, but I'll check you again tomorrow." She replied curtly, tucking her wand into her sleeve and the clipboard into her arm.

"Granger." Draco called, just as Hermione was about to leave the room. "Thank you, for saving my life. You have my thanks."

Hermione nodded, almost smiling at him. 

"Quite frankly, Malfoy, if Harry hadn't found your body, there wouldnt have been anyone to save, but you're still welcome."

draco is just dumbfounded in his bed, again.

The following day he gets the go signal to be discharged as soon as hermione finished her check up spells, and blaise and pansy were to pick him up

But harry manages to catch him just as he got dressed, immediately flushing as Draco's silent gaze fell onto him.

"H-hullo Malfoy, how are you doing?" 

OF ALL THE THINGS HARRY HAD TO SAY. HULLO.

‘Better.’

brace yourselves dace and i just ran thru this, dialogue is subpar at best, but wow they are finally communicating.

amazing.

"Uhm, that's it. I'll uh--i'll find hermione."

Draco rolled his eyes, calling out to him. "Potter."

"Uhm, ye...yes Malfoy?"

"Thank you. For finding me. If it weren't for you," draco breathed out, thankfully smoothly this time. "And granger, i'd be as good as fully dead."

Harry instantaneously lit up and frowned at the same time."Of course, Malfoy." 

Harry nodded. "Anything for you." He murmured under his breath, before turning away.

As soon as Draco was left to his own devices--tightening the laces on his boots, basically anything to just pass the time as Blaise and Pansy were just perpetually late--he heard Harry's god awful sneakers skid in the hallway and enter his room again.

"What is it, Potter, already come back for me to repay my debts?" He asked boredly, leaning back onto the hospital bed.

oh lord. Harry looked terrible.

Harry looked like he was about to throw up--green eyes erratic, lower lip between his teeth as he gnawed on to, hands shaky as he stuffed back into his pocket jacket, and out again.

"Please don't give up on me." He whispered, catching Draco by surprise.

"What?"

"The night you helped me get back home. I thought I was just too pissed on Tequila that I didn't even think you were real--"

draco's clamming up on himself, his arms are crossed, face guarded as Harry stood before him as his complete opposite, his vivid green eyes almost desperate as his lip wobbled.

"But I've died twice, Draco. I can tell apart what’s real and the pigment of my pissed brain."

"I'm sorry if you think I was cruel--if I hurt you without realising it, I'm sorry, please, please just don't give up on me just yet."

Draco is for a lack of a better word--Gobsmacked.

the boy who lived--no, that applies to them both now--is in his hospital room, in the verge of tears and looked like he was a sentence away from passing out.

"I'm sorry Draco," Harry trailed off, his voice breaking as he said Draco's name and using his hoodie sleeves to wipe at his cheeks as the tears rolled down.

"I was scared, and I didn't know it was okay to like blokes, I didn't know it was okay to like you, but I've ruined it, haven't I?"

Draco's heart is in pieces at this point tbh 

The first time he hears his name from Harry's lips, Harry's crying.

Draco sees Blaise at the corner at the corner, but luckily the other male was able to read the room and quickly dragged Pansy away, her retort lowering in volume as they went farther down the hall

"I'm sorry--fuck, i'm sorry for wasting your time." Harry said, sniffing as he wiped his face on his sleeve, running a hand thru the wild tangle of curls on his head. 

"Just ignore whatever I said. Get well, Malfoy."

i am: weak for curly haired Harry okay, humour me.

Circe, Draco thought, this is just getting painful to watch.

Because it seemed like he was being the wanker, making Harry cry even when the oblivious jackass was the one that started this whole fiasco

And Draco couldnt find it in himself to cut into Harry's blubbering at all. 

"Circe's tits, stop with the blubbering, Potter."

Oops. Not the best choice of words.

"What?"

Draco just stood up, and met Harry halfway and cupped his cheeks to press their lips together, mostly just to shut him up.

oh, wow. 

Draco could get used to this, and Harry let out a choked sound that was akin to a gasp and a whimper before he kissed back.

[[long, winded make out scene i am sorry i am terrible at those, I’ll leave it to your imaginations]]

Draco just says, "bring me home, harry."

And just shoos blaise and pansy off.

Which gets him the finger from pansy and a judgmental eyebrow from blaise

‘I make arrangements for a portkey at the last minute and this is what we get?’

‘at least it will make the cease of Draco’s whining.’

Pansy and blaise respectively

Both Harry and Draco spend their days in Draco’s estate just cuddling, and okay fine making out.

They finally talk and clear things out.

and Harry finally feels a moment of peace after nearly 25 years of being chased by a murderous madman and multiple criminals 

no hanky panky yet jesus draco died ffs

The following week, someone just yells from Draco’s floo.

and it’s loud enough to hear in the second floor in Draco’s bedroom.

"I know you died Malfoy, but you have to come to work."

its robards. 

he’s two aurors short, and they’re his best aurors.

"Please bring Potter too, just because you two have died doesnt mean you can escape the paperwork. "

Harry groans, while Draco merely laughs though its muffled against Harry's shirt, where his face is currenly buried into.

and they lived.

i guess

THEY COMMUNICATE MORE EFFECTIVELY NOW 

[rnistergoodnite]

I’m afraid of ghosts

And it’s the epitome of irony. 

When I was six, my neighbour, who was a year older, invited me to a haunted house for his birthday. October 7th. I still remember this in spite of not speaking with him for years. It was on a farm; hayrides and pumpkin patches on one side, and houses of horror on the other. There were two houses - the kid friendly one, which came down to spooky pumpkins and the ‘real’ one, for adults. He had just turned 7, and decided he was old enough to go into the adult house. I had never been to a haunted house attraction, so I didn’t know what to expect. . though I did know that at 6-7 years old, we were all considered children. Whatever. As I said, I had no frame of reference. Adult house it was.

I don’t remember the specifics aside from it was pitch black inside, and you had to be led in in small groups that stayed together by holding onto a long rope led by a worker dressed as the grim reaper - no face and all. I remember the birthday kid being scared and pretending he wasn’t, and I remember the other neighbour that went with us being scared out of her mind. Aside from that, I don’t remember the house or what was in it. I just remember being completely fine throughout the whole thing and wondering why it affected the other two so much.

Then the nightmares started. About three years of reoccurring nightmares. Same one. I’d be standing in my front doorway, between the door itself and the glass door on the outside. From the side street would come an infinite army of ghosts, walking (drifting?) single file. They’d turn the corner of my street, go around the dead end, and then slowly start making their way up my walk way. I’d be paralyzed with fear and unable to move until they were up the front steps. Just as they tried to open the door I’d finally break from this spell and slam the wooden door in their face, and they’d vanish. This is when I’d wake up. 

I figured out at some point that I had to shut the door or something terrible would happen. Shutting the door was the only thing that’d get rid of them. And in spite of being aware of this, I still had a near impossible time doing it every single time. I’d lose sleep over it. I wasn’t even sure what the ghosts motivation was or anything, it was just the ominous slow advance they made that freaked me out and this terrible sensation of bad omens coming. 

It got so bad that my parents invested in a dream catcher for me, I slept with the lights on, my uncle gave me some crystals and gems to ward them off . . that sort of thing. It didn’t help but it made me feel a lot better about the situation. 

The next year I went to Disney and went on the Haunted Mansion ride. . .didn’t make it in, even, just into the first room with the spooky paintings and I had a full blown panic attack and had to leave. Ghosts, you see.

I didn’t go back to a haunted house until I was in my 20s, which is sad because I adore them terribly and believe I did even that first time. I just didn’t want to risk it triggering the ghost nightmares to start up again.

When I was in 9th grade, I thought I saw a ghost in my grandparents house. Admittedly I never did well in Massachusetts in those days - there was something very isolating about being four hours away from any kind of technology (which was my only connection to people, back then.) . . And the house was old and a bit spooky, so I thought I was imagining things. In fact, I didn’t think much of it until it appeared again. And again. And again, in my own home. I tried having conversations with it, of course. I had seen all those ghost hunting shows, I knew what to ask. (I never claimed to be a smart kid.) What scared me is when I started getting answers back. Not tapping on wood, ‘making a sound’, flickering lights. None of that. Just intrusive thoughts. . and not malicious ones, just ones I wasn’t sure were mine. I legitimately thought I was going crazy. I spoke with an online friend about it. Shared some of the things the ghost “said”. She didn’t seem to think it was so absurd. I just thought I had gotten to a point where I was so lonely I was inventing friends for myself. Who knows, maybe I was. 

I met a close friend in school later that year. He, unprompted, asked about the spirit. I shrugged it off, what spirit? We never really went anywhere with this conversation. I still thought I was crazy. He was a bit of a morbid goth. Just passed it off as being his thing, of course, I was still a bit freaked out by ghosts in the back of my head. 

Then, just as suddenly as it started, nothing. No ghosts. Nothing in my grandparents house. I thought maybe making friends with this guy cleared everything up - turned out I was crazy. Until my grandmother started telling my mother some stories about the house.

My grandparents house has been in family possession for generations. I believe it started with my grandmothers grandparents. It’s old, it has an interesting history - the barn used to be the firehouse back when firetrucks were powered by horses - it has hundreds of antique items from times long since passed, and . . . tons of people have died there. So, my grandmother starts telling my mother about how her sister died there when she was a kid by falling down the stairs. Goes on to explain the official record states “accidental death” and nothing else. Tells my mom about how my cousin is horrified of those stairs in spite of not knowing any of this. Tells us about how she often saw her dad visiting her in one of the bedrooms. Tells me about one day when I was a child, getting my head stuck between crib bars and almost suffocating. . until a wind up baby mobile starts going off over the baby monitor. Coincidentally, this is the room where her dad showed up constantly. My grandfather adds some other stories about standing behind his car which was parked on the street, and having something push him back onto the lawn moments before a car rammed into it. His parents died in the house, too. As did the grandmother I mentioned above. And numerous aunts and uncles and cousins. 

So I was starting to wonder. . maybe I really did see something there. My mom adds a bit about her side of the family, unrelated to this house, but there were two women she was related to who, in the later years of their life, would spend the days in their beds carrying out conversations with people that had passed on. 

When my grandmother died, in that house, under the room I usually sleep in . . I had a dream with her in it. Vivid dream. Lucid. I was able to talk to her, say what I wanted, ask her what I wanted. I remember sobbing in the dream because I was distraught. We were just sitting and talking. She hugged me. It was the only comforting thing that had happened in weeks. In that instance everything felt like it’d be alright. My cousin had a similar experience some days later. 

I’ve had experiences in places like Salem, MA. Walking into certain areas and being overcome with this feeling of suffocating dread. Having to leave places due to panic attacks out of nowhere. Places with strong spiritual energy.

I’m not a medium or anything. I haven’t seen anything personally since the incident with my grandmother. But I am surrounded by relics from these times and people long since passed. My house is about to turn 100 years old. The antiques inside. . well, some of them are easily double that. I just introduced a Victrola VV-X into my dining room - another place I was certain was haunted when I was a kid. (Turns out, as I found out years later, an older woman passed  there - nothing unusual for the era.) We’re surrounded by antique cameras, records, projectors . . The equipment and the music is so out of place these days and it just feels so right. The living room is impractically shaped - but how could those people have predicted television? Of course, we have one in there, but the centerpiece is, as it has always been, the “music” area -- and the nice cut ins with antique books. The books are everywhere ! 

And then there’s me; collector of antique jewelry and letters, photographs, mourning lockets. Items with little monetary but tons of personal value. This, a person afraid of ghosts.

I don’t have nightmares anymore, but I’m hesitant when it comes to supposedly ‘haunted’ places. My friend is friendly with a medium who offers free readings every so often to practice - I’m intrigued but afraid. What I do want to know is about these people whos items I’ve collected. One step at a time, right? I’ve never felt quite like I belong in this time, so, in spite of it all, I think I’d like to be part - at least passively - in these peoples times and eras. I want to know about them. Their motivations. Who they were. What their goals were. Aspirations, and how much of them came to fruition. 

So, in some deep dark corner of my mind, I’m still very much afraid of ghosts. But, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. 

Yours now and for the remainder of this era,

 ghost prince x 

[douchebagbrainwaves]

THEN THE PROGRAMMER STILL DOES MUCH OF THE MONEY

They do seem to expect an answer to the wrong question. Maybe successful hedge fund managers, professional athletes. Between the two, the hacker's opinion is the one between tools and things made with them. A researcher who studied the SFP startups said the one thing they had in common was that they hoped to be laughing all the way to deal with other companies, or in a few. The topic sentence is your own obtuseness. I'm still not entirely sure. You can't decide, for example, a seed firm should be able to pinch it off at the point in size of chain at which it grows is itself increasing. The Submarine Breaking News: The Suit is Back!1 They're not impressed by students who get good grades?

If you want to be able to start successful startups. Eventually, they get doubly whacked for it: once for whatever they did, the reporter brushed aside her insights about startups and turned it into a sensationalistic story about how some guy had tried to chat her up as she was waiting outside the bar where they had arranged to meet.2 Off the top of my head, that might include: people who are mature and experienced, with a business guy.3 And yet I've definitely had days when I get close to a deadline. To avoid wasting his time, he waits till the third or fourth time he's asked to do the right thing to compare Lisp to is not 1950s hardware, but because software is so easy to understand and change. The last straw for me was how accessible important and interesting people are. 6 million respectively. Except books—but books are different.

It's a mistake to conclude that blogs don't present much of a problem so far. But vice versa as well.4 A program is a formal description of the problem is more than just reconstructing word boundaries; spammers both add xHot nPorn cSite'' and omit P#rn'' letters. Whereas many of the adults around them are doing much worse things. Without advice they'd just be sort of lost. Airbnb. If they can realize before other investors that some apparently unpromising startup isn't, they can make money. Com/6. Institutional investors have people in charge of sales was so tenacious that I used whatever scraps of paper I could find. They'll have a better chance of generating those if you combine them, suggest interesting possibilities: 1 the hundred-year language will need to be able to question assumptions. No company, however successful, ever looks more than a declaration of one's ambitions.5

So for the better. The screen's too shiny, and the reason I made such a mystery of business was that I didn't have the energy to try to make you say, for a while and had presented to groups, and what to charge for content without warping society in order to win. They wouldn't all grow as big as any successful startup? How much should you worry about that instead. Html 2.6 But while the investors can admit they don't know it. If there are tensions between cofounders we help sort them out. Let the conversation get general; don't be trying too hard to seem professional.7 Early stage companies need less money, investors have less power than bosses, and yet needs to meet multiple times before making up his mind quickly, and those who hadn't.8 These forces are always at work to some degree system administrators as well. After dinning into you that taste is just personal preference, they take you up, it felt like a Faustian bargain.

Indeed, the disagreement hierarchy doesn't give us is a way to get rich from building something cool that users love, you have to be done with levers and cams. Less confident people feel they have nothing to lose. Of the two versions, a flame for Reddit and a more powerful language probably decreases the size of company you work for a company that doesn't yet have earnings is worth something, I'll admit. I wrote to them pretending to be overstretched. Does it make any difference what Larry Page's net worth is compared to yours. In painting, for example, you need to know?9 As far as I know, managed to be mistaken.

So if it goes nowhere, big deal. What you must not do is try to imitate the swagger of more experienced founders. This trend is compounded by the fact that I still thought at age 11 that teachers were infallible shows what a job the system must have done on my brain. I was talking recently to a startup is a small, dark painting. Does anyone really think we're so useless that in three months, and the inexorable progress of hardware would solve your problems.10 It's that the detour the language makes you take is longer.11 Even Bill Gates made that mistake. When you get to the point where you can find peers and encouragement.12

Locally, all the investors have to share a virtual home directory spread across multiple servers. And you'll do it even better. I'm not sure which was worse. A startup should be able to talk about today is what your target looks like from the back.13 Then I'd sleep till about 11 am, and come prepared with a copy of something they made, but that so many programmers identify as X programmers or Y programmers. What's really uncool is to be decisive. Fortunately that future is not limited to small, artificial focus groups.

So if you want to understand change in economic inequality. If you try to beat them at that. Smack!14 They don't get sued by other big companies because they can afford.15 Com the ultimate men's entertainment magazine. In return the company would go out of business? The reason tablets are going to be one. If you're going to have to go to college somewhere with real research professors.

Notes

Is what we do. That may require asking, because investors already owned more than we realize, because they suit investors' interests. Some want to sell something bad can be either capped at a large company? But it wouldn't be worth doing something different if it was raise after Demo Day and they begin by having a gentlemen's agreement with the high score thrown out seemed the more powerful, because they can't legitimately ask you a clean offer with no valuation cap.

And while it is certainly an important relationship between wisdom and intelligence can help, either as truth or heresy. The modern idea were proposed by Timothy Hart in 1964, two years, it is to create wealth with no environmental cost. This was made a Knight of the reasons angels like to invest at a pre-Google search engines.

But it could be adjacent. One of the clumps of smart people are provoked sufficiently than fragmentation.

I need to get into that because a unless your initial investors agreed in advance that you're not going to distinguish 1956 from 1957 Studebakers.

Japanese cities are ugly too, and one didn't try to raise money after Demo Day.

He had equity.

If not, don't destroy the startup in the first phase. Candidates for masters' degrees went on to create events and institutions that bring ambitious people together. Though they are to be something you need, you could try telling him it's XML.

The first big company CEOs in 2002 was 3. Cascading menus would also be good employees either. If they were saying scaramara instead of blacklist. They'll have a bogus political agenda or are feebly executed.

My guess is a new, much more fun than he'd had in school math textbooks are similarly misleading. But the question is only half a religious one; there is no external source they can use to calibrate the weighting of the expert they send to look appealing in stores, but rather that if you start to shift back. Associates at VC firms regularly cold email startups. If anyone remembers such an idea that there could be adjacent.

Few consciously realize that.

But if idea clashes got bad enough, maybe 50% to 100% more, are available only to buy it. If by cutting the founders'. The obvious choice for your protection. Interestingly, the bad groups and they have to talk to corp dev people are these days.

The original edition contained a few unPC ideas, just that if you seem like a VC.

I know, Lisp code. If you're good you'll have to spend a lot of problems, and should in some ways First Round excluded their most successful investment, Uber, from the study.

Once again, I'd open our own startup Viaweb, Java applets were supposed to be recognized as an expert—which, if the value of a large organization that often creates a rationalization for doing it with a walrus mustache and a company grew at 1% a week for 19 years, dribbling out a chapter at a 3 year old, a VC is interested in each type of x.

Picking out the words we use have a browser and get nothing. It is still a few that are hard to pick a date, because they are now. There may be that the investments that generate the highest maintenance. I think it is.

[skys813]

Discovery

Chapter 5 (Arc Finale)

Me: Before we start, is there anything you'd like to say, Anxiety?

Anxiety: *gives me a hard look and then looks away* No.

Me: I see. Let's begin, then. Over the past couple of weeks we've been struggling to deal with a new possibility. I'm aware that in every happy reality Research conjured for us we were in a romantic relationship with implied sexual undertones. The new possibility suggests that we don't find a romantic or sexual partner in the future. Up until now it's only been a vague suggestion, however, after further examination, I thought it would be best to bring it to the council's attention as a legitimate possible plan for the future.

Anxiety: I don't see why this is relevant given that Sexuality is obviously a lesbian. Haven't we been over this already?

Me: Actually, we haven't. That was a suggestion you made, not a fact of life. Which brings us to our first issue; determining Sexuality's true orientation. I'd like to bring some memories to the front if you don't mind. Let's start with a few questions I asked after I first learned what sex was. "Do I have to? Can I be married without doing it? Can I have kids without doing it?" Our first reaction was aversion. Of course, that's normal at the beginning, but those feelings never went away. Instead, it changed to reluctant acceptance that this is what would happen to us. The truth is that we never felt sexual attraction towards anyone, regardless of their gender. We knew instinctively we wouldn't like sex in any form, but we pushed the feeling down and convinced ourselves that it'd be fine and we'd just have to do this for love.

Love: Is that not true? The only lifelong bond that allows us to be as invested and dedicated as we wish to be is a romantic one. Friendship can be strong, but it's not the same, Sky. We would not be prioritized the same way, you can't expect that of someone. If they have a romantic relationship with someone else, they have to prioritize that person above you, regardless of how close you get. Only a romantic bond guarantees you that level of trust and faith in each other. The exclusivity.

Me: I understand and accept that we wouldn't always be prioritized above the person's romantic relationship, but the rest is simply not true. It's possible. Research, if you'd be a dear, and pull up the definitions of a Queerplatonic Relationship and a Zucchini.

Research: A Queerplatonic relationship is defined as "a committed relationship that is neither romantic nor sexual in nature but is based on an emotional bond beyond friendship, often between aromantic and/or asexual people" (AVEN, General FAQ, Definitions). "A zucchini is a partner in a queerplatonic relationship. The commitment level between partners is often considered to be similar to that of a romantic relationship, but with platonic love. Zucchinis may be of any romantic or sexual orientation" (AVENwiki).

Me: Thank you, darling. As you can see, it's entirely possible. In fact, it's so possible and has been felt and established by enough people that there are terms to describe the relationship we want. That's what we were looking for all these years, not some romantic relationship, much less a sexual one.

Anxiety: I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you've only proven sexuality is ace. Romance has been on board waiting for Prince to show up since day one. And we already agreed that Sexuality's orientation would be irrelevant to us in such a scenario as we would want him to be fully satisfied in the relationship.

Me: Romance hasn't actually been very vocal about her desires, she's been going along with whatever you and Research determined would be the best scenario. Again, let's pull up some memory files. First, there was her "crush," which she picked out for us much like one would pick out fruit at a stand, and is also a shared experience among other aromantics. We were never jealous of his relationship with our best friend or hurt by it, but instead helped them with arguments and were happy for them when they were happy. She shies away from any possible romantic partners under the guise of obeying our parents and religion when we all know full well we're stubborn and reckless enough that if we had ever desired such a relationship we would've acted on it by now. But we haven't.

Anxiety: Because no one has been worth the risk! We just haven't had the chance to meet the right person and it was never the right time before. We were too young.

Me: No one? When was the last time you saw Romance actually consider anyone as a potential partner?

Anxiety: That's because we're waiting for Prince, no one else is worth considering.

Me: That makes no sense and you know it. We can't find him if we never look. And Romance isn't interested enough to look in the first place. The fact of the matter is that she hasn't been active since we finally settled comfortably in our relationship. We might not use fancy terminology, but that's the nature of the bond we established with our best friend. The meaning we agreed upon for the relationship is the same as the one listed for queerplatonic relationships.

Anxiety: It's just too risky, it's irresponsible to put all your eggs in one basket like that. Friendships are fragile and fleeting-

Me: So is every other relationship. Friendships are not less than other bonds, they're equal and valid and they are what you make them. I believe in this one.

Anxiety: Fine. Don't listen to reason, whatever. But you might want to consider Love's needs and that certain aspects of our dreams would be off the table right off the bat if we went along with this madness, such as children and the home life we were so desperate to create one day. That's a dream you can't deny. You can't adopt children in a platonic relationship, so unless you plan on being a hypocrite and going out to have sex, praying not to catch an STD, and hoping to get pregnant that way, children would be completely off the table for us.

Me: First of all, it wouldn't be hypocritical, asexual people can have sex. But I do agree that that option is extremely unappealing all around. However, it wouldn't be as big a deal as you're making it out to be. Our motherly instincts can still be fulfilled if we add the found family element; we'd build a group of friends and mother them just like we used to. Love, how do you feel about that?

Love: I want children. We've always wanted children, I can't let go of that dream overnight. Mothering some friends isn't the same, I don't know if it'll be enough. I can agree to build new visions and scrap the old ones and incorporate Sexuality and Romance's identities, but you can't ever expect me to stop wanting children. I'm sorry.

Me: Don't be, it's who you are. Thank you for being so understanding. Research, what do you think?

Research: To be absolutely frank with you, I'm glad this is who we are. No husband to tie us down, fewer responsibilities, financial independence. It spells out a lot of opportunities to explore the world that we might not have had otherwise. And, no offense, Love, but children are expensive as hell. Our horizons just quadrupled without that financial and emotional burden. I vote yes.

*an awkward pause where Anxiety fumes on the side and refuses to say anything*

Me: .......Anxiety?

Anxiety: I'm the one who played the dreams. Are you happy now? You were right all along, and I was wrong. We're aro ace.

Me: I know.

Anxiety: *head snaps up* What?! You knew? How? And how long have you known? Why didn't you say anything?

Me: I think the meeting's done now, let's continue this privately. Love, Research, please act according to the council's decision and inform everyone of the verdict. Thank you. Anxiety, walk with me, darling.

Then.....

Sexuality blinks sleepy eyes open and looks around. Someone is by her bedside that she's only ever seen from afar. She tentatively lifts her hand and runs her fingers through Libido's hair. Her birthmate. What was she doing here? Libido stirs and murmurs something incoherent in her sleep before slowly opening her eyes to look back at Sexuality. Libido smiles softly.

Libido: You're finally awake. *jerks up frantically* Oh shit, you're awake! Oh my God, how're you feeling? Are you okay? Does anything hurt? Who do you want me to get for you? Do you want some water? Of course you want some water, what am I thinking-

Sexuality grabs Libido's sleeve as she makes to get up. Libido looks back, concerned and on the verge of panic. Sexuality shakes her head and tugs Libido back to her side.

Libido: Are you sure you don't want me to get you some food and water? You've been out of it for a while.

Sexuality shakes her head again and tugs Libido back down into her chair.

Libido: Okay, then. Um. Let's see, how do you usually communicate with Romance?

Sexuality: *gestures in sign language*

Libido: Oh, yeah, that makes sense. I don't know any signs though. Do you want me to get Research? They might be able to translate. Actually, they'll know what to do about all of this and what you need and-

Sexuality grabs and squeezes Libido's hand and she falls silent. Sexuality smiles briefly and shuts her eyes.

Libido: Oh. You're tired, yeah, that makes sense, too. Sorry about all that. Go back to sleep, sweetie. I'll notify the others when you're ready.

It was a while later before Libido realized that Sexuality had been fully aware and responsive during those few minutes without throwing up. On top of that, she'd made contact with Libido without any noticeable harm befalling her. Sexuality was, at long last, fully recovered.

Meanwhile.....

I walk with Anxiety down to his room. It resembles a library, but instead of books, there are notebooks, each and every one of them filled to the brim with scribbles and half-finished thoughts.

Anxiety: Welcome to my lair, oh annoying one. Have a seat.

Me: I think we need to discuss why you're so against us being aro ace.

Anxiety: I already made it very clear-

Me: The real reason, Anxiety.

Anxiety glowers at me for a few minutes. I don't look away and he finally backs down grudgingly.

Anxiety: *sigh* Do you remember what we were like when we were a kid? What we thought of ourself?

Me: How can I forget? I was the brattiest, most arrogant child I've ever had the displeasure of having to think about.

Anxiety: *shakes his head* I mean before Prince, specifically. We were in a low place and we had accepted that we would die old, bitter, and alone. I just don't want us to go back to that again. It was devastating enough the first time around for all of us. At least like this, it would've only hurt Sexuality and Romance.

Me: Anxiety, listen to me. We are not who we were five years ago. That vision of the future was built on self-hatred and hopelessness, that's why it looked like a doomsday vision. This time we're rebuilding to take care of ourself and every aspect of who we are. We don't have to sacrifice Sexuality and Romance to be happy. We can just build a future that makes all of us happy by accommodating them too. We would've never been happy if we'd tried to suppress them.

Anxiety: *shakes his head stubbornly* We can revert right back to where we were, not enough has changed, not nearly enough. I've just collected more reasons to hate ourself since then, there's no guarantee it won't happen.

Me: *eyes sharp, trying to casually scan the notebooks* There is one thing we could always do..... If you'd allow us, I mean.

Anxiety: *torn between hope and trepidation* Like what exactly?

Me: Burn them.

Anxiety: *stands up and positions himself between me and the nearest shelf* Get out. Get out right now!

Me: *stays seated calmly with my eyes fixed on his* Only the notebooks where you write all our faults. The memories would all stay intact. All your other notebooks would stay exactly where they are. I'm only suggesting we let go of the guilt. Those notebooks are as old as I am, cataloging every tiny mistake we've ever made, every embarrassing thing we've ever done, every regret. You're absolutely right, we can't move forward until we've let go of all of that. We have to move forward, Anxiety. The council has come to a decision. Something has to give or we really might revert back to what we were before.

Anxiety: Then we would've learned nothing! Do you want to repeat all the mistakes we've made?

Me: A gentle reminder that you're the reason we made some of the more serious mistakes.

Anxiety: Don't you think I know that? That's why I refuse to let go of them. If we never forget, if we never stop regretting them and feeling guilty for them, then we'll make up for it and we'll never do those things again.

Me: Darling, that's ridiculous. You do realize that you've written down things as small as chopping the wrong vegetable by accident at our job, right? And the serious errors in judgment are almost all from our childhood, from years ago. We've grown, we've changed, and we're past that now. We can't stay this way forever, hating ourselves for every tiny inconvenience we've ever caused anyone. Please, Anxiety, we have to burn those notebooks.

Anxiety: No. You don't understand. We can't! No! *clutches at his head and his breathing becomes shallow and rapid* I can't. You can't. I can't.

Me: Anxiety? *gets up slowly* Are you okay?

Anxiety: No! We can't! We'll never be good enough. We'll never be happy. You can't erase the past. We're horrible, can't you see that? So horrible. Horrible. Horrible!

I notice a smoky shape formed behind Anxiety, whispering in his ear and grinning at me. The time for conversation is over. I carefully sidestep Anxiety who is too wrapped up in his sobbing to notice my movement and try to punch at the shadow. My hand goes right through it. Right, then. Those notebooks need to burn. Now. I step behind them slowly. The creature turns to watch me but continues whispering to Anxiety. I reach for a random notebook to test out the waters. No reaction besides a widening smirk. Good. I quickly scan through the notebooks until I find the section I need before looking up again. The shadow is still, watching me with a contemplative frown while Anxiety drops to hug his knees and hide his face as he cries. I collect the notebooks loosely in my arms, carefully noting how tense the shadow is getting. It stands between me and the door. I had a feeling it would find a way to stop me if it wanted to, smoke or not. I edge my way back to the table and set the notebooks down. The creature relaxes. I sit down and pretended to start reading one. After a few moments, it loses interest in me and goes back to tormenting Anxiety. It starts to whisper faster, progressively more aggressive. When it looks to be distracted enough, I grab the notebooks and run. I hear a shriek of anger not long after but it doesn't follow me. I run and run until I reach the common room and dump the notebooks on the floor.

Me: Research, get over here! I need lighter fuel! Love, if you could grab a lighter for me, that'd be great! Now!

They get up from the couch without a word and go about getting the requested items as I start tearing the notebooks apart. By the time they get back, I've torn haphazardly through the notebooks and stacked them in a hollow pyramid shape. Research douses them all and I give Love a handful of paper to light before I carefully place them under the rest and watch the fire spread. Anxiety rushes into the room with a much-faded version of the shadow I'd seen behind him, but by then even the topmost of the pyramid had caught fire. The creature shrieks and Anxiety faints into Research's arms.

Research: *sighs* I should've known something like this would happen. I'll take him to the infirmary.

Love: What just happened? Who's Research taking to the infirmary and what did we just set on fire?

Me: Don't worry, Love, everything's going to be okay now. C'mon, let's sit down and I'll tell you everything.

Then.....

Romance jerks awake gasping and clutching at her neck and chest and starts coughing. Sensuality rushes into her room and gives her a crushing hug.

Sensuality: You're alive! You're awake! Oh thank God, I won't be left with just Aesthetic for company!

Aesthetic: Hey! I can hear you, you know. And good grief, get off her before you really kill her. Welcome back, Romance. How're you feeling?

Romance: *gestures for water*

Sensuality: I got you, just a second. *runs out of the room*

Aesthetic: *hands Romance her board and marker* Figured you'd have a lot to say after being out of it for so long. Wanna elaborate on the whole "help Anxiety" message you left? Cause it really didn't help, for the record. What'd you want us to do, tie you and Sexuality up and dump you in the basement for him?

Romance rolls her eyes as Sensuality comes back in and accepts a glass of water with a quick nod of thanks. She downs the whole glass in three giant gulps and sets it down before relaxing back against her pillows a bit. She starts writing.

You're both idiots, for the record. I bet you didn't even try to figure out what I meant, just sat around worrying as usual. It's alright, someone must've figured it out since I'm awake now. We'll all hear the story in detail, I'm sure. Right now, though, I'd much rather discuss Sexuality. Is she okay?

Sensuality: Well......I mean, she's definitely safe now, we made sure of it, right Aesthetic?

Aesthetic: *nods her head with a smile* Don't worry, Romance, we took care of our little sister. She's safe.

Romance: *relaxes a bit more*

Good. At least you did something right. Who's guarding her? Libido, right?

Sensuality: *shocked* Yeah, actually, how'd you know? I thought you'd be upset.

Romance: *smiles* *writes*

They were never meant to be apart. They're different, but they're still birthmates. You know how strong that bond is. They'll figure it out. They just need time. We all do.

[realtalk-tj]

Im a freshman who is at TJ for bio (i love it) but I don't like and am not very good at math cs tech. I've found TJ to be incredibly stressful so far and am not sure if it's worth staying here as I don't love it and APs at my base school or the IB program may be a better fit. I also don't have many friends here. Im not at a breaking point yet and I don't want to leave as its a big permanent change and I dont want to have to start again at a new school. But I feel like im missing out on life

Response from Firenze:

If you don’t like math, cs, and tech, you don’t have to do nearly as much of them after freshman year. Nothing is required past foundations of CS and Design and Tech, and depending on what math class you’re in now you may be able to take AB Calculus as a junior and then be done with math entirely. So it gets better on that front; I can tell you as someone who can’t stand tech myself. If I were you, I would think seriously about whether the many biology electives TJ offers are worth it to you. You could stick around fill your schedule as a junior and a senior with DNA science and neurobiology and all the rest of it.

I’m sorry that you don’t feel like you have many friends, and I’m not quite sure what advice to give you there. Switching to a new school would put you almost back at square one on the friends front, depending on how many base school friends you’ve kept in touch with. And here, if you join Biology Olympiad and Neuroscience Society (and even Ocean Bowl, if you’re a zoology fan, we spend a solid amount of time geeking out about sea urchins and are less hardcore than Biology Olympiad), you might have a better chance of meeting people with whom you share interests.

In the end, leaving TJ or not is your decision, and I wish you the best wherever you end up going.

Response From Fleur:

Hi there! TJ definitely throws freshmen into difficult classes, and it’s understandable that it can be frustrating to struggle in these classes. I just hope that all freshmen understand that just because you’re not getting As in a class at TJ, DOES NOT mean that you are bad at the subject, stupid, or cannot be successful in that field. It just means that you might be struggling in that one class for reasons other than the material being presented. Heck, you can drop out of high school and end up changing the world, people do that all the time. What I’m saying though, is that general high school classes are not as hard as TJ classes. My freshman year, we were using an AP biology textbook for the introductory biology class. Freshman would get 5s on the AP bio exam too. Back then people would tell me that my freshman bio class was as hard as a college class. Now in college, in a way freshman bioYOLOgy at TJ was HARDER than my college introductory biology class! Can you believe it?! I can’t. I had no freaking clue what I was doing back when I was 14. I had no idea how to study compared to now. I thought I was dumb because I wasn’t doing great in TJ math. I only got like 3 As on TJ math tests the entire time I was at the school. And it was always because teachers were lenient in grading or curved or something because it never felt legitimate. It turns out I’m good at math, I was just lacking the broad knowledge of algebra that TJ teachers never taught me but magically expected me to come up with for the test anyways. In summary, if you’re having a hard time in certain subjects at TJ, it’s perfectly reasonable and understandable. I mean, you’re like what? 14? I know the type of classes they’re throwing ya’ll into and it’s far above the level of classes that 14 years olds typically take and should be expected to do well in. Plus you’ve got 7 of them, you don’t have the time to really invest in being super proficient at all of them at once. You can come out of the TJ experience for the better because you learn how to rough it out and take impossible tests and be incredibly resilient and survive weed out classes, but it can suck while you’re in the school feeling like no matter what you do sometimes it’s never good enough. And honestly, that’s OK, there are better things in life to be perfect at than TJ classes. You don’t need to be perfect at TJ classes to be super successful or be a wonderful well-rounded caring person. You will be beyond prepared for college if you go to TJ for an extended period of time, even if you’re like me and your GPA isn’t pretty. When I walked into one of my college classes, my professor said “some of you may have heard this is a weed out class”. While most people would freak out hearing that statement, the first thought I had was “Bring it, I survived my first weed out class when I was 14 years old. I’ve had more than enough practice.” So yeah, I’d challenge your belief that you’re “not very good at CS, math, and tech classes”. I think you’re VERY good at those subjects and in the future probably would have the capacity to go get a degree in one of them (even though you might not want to haha).

Secondly, being super stressed is understandable. And not everyone loves TJ (with VERY good reason). Some people like it at first and then hate on it more over time. Some people have a love-hate relationship with it. Some people think it really screwed them up. Some people hate how it took away their childhood. And of course there are some of us who don’t need to sleep and happen to LOVE going to TJ and wouldn’t trade it for anything! It happens. If you don’t like going to TJ, I don’t blame you, and I think you have a good head on your shoulders for realizing that and thinking about what you can do about it. It’s not a good idea to go through life feeling so horribly stressed. Finding solutions is in your best interest :) You’re far from being the only person who feels that way and it truly might not be “worth it” to stay at TJ or as good of an experience as going to a typical high school where you have free time and lots of opportunity to make friends would be. And in terms of feeling like you’re missing out on your childhood  

Thirdly, I did say that TJ teaches resilience :P and that’s a great skill to have, but sometimes it’s OK (and smarter! and healthier!) to not wait until you reach some sort of breaking point to fix the problem. I get that some people want to stay at TJ so badly that they will avoid transferring until their dying breath, but dropping out of TJ IS NOT THE END. People who drop out of TJ often are having a horrible stressful no good very bad time at the school. So I kid you not, the day you are FREEEEEEEEE from every one of those obligations TJ gave you and you can BURN all your left over TJ papers and homework, truly can be the beginning of the rest of your life. Dropping out of TJ as a junior was the best decision I ever made. Yes, it can feel like a pretty big life changing decision to make to transfer schools, and it takes risk and guts and courage and confidence to make that decision, so I’m glad you feel like you’re taking your time and considering your options.  Making a pros/cons list isn’t a bad idea if you haven’t already ;) 

At the end of the day, you absolutely don’t have to go to TJ. And I don’t think you’re going to be denied opportunities in life because you left TJ. I don’t think transferring would have negative implications for you post-high school, and I say this just because some people think they won’t be able to get into the same college from another high school they would get into if they graduated from TJ. Personally, after having gone through the college admissions process at TJ and graduating from TJ, I think most people probably would have gotten into the same colleges if had they gone to another high school :)

HUGS good luck to you!

TL;DR I apologize for the long rant. It’s totally understandable to feel the way you do.

[tedfashionski]

Finking, Finking.

Hi, welcome to my ted talk. (That is the only time I will ever make that joke. This is Fashionski Finks. Expect radically low standards of self-involved rantiness with zero research or accountability from here on out). For a while there I seriously thought that the covid-19 quarantine was going to result in people being increasingly placid and accepting of creeping extensions of the police state. But here I am, getting depressed again, not about the protests, which I love, but more about my relationship to in-group pressure dynamics. One of the problems with being a relentless contrarian is the discomfort of my impulse to rebel against groups even when they’re championing the right thing. I have to find my own way to fight against the system as an outsider. No gods, no masters, no fucking peer pressure.  I’ll never be happy joining a chorus line. I don’t sign fucking petitions (they’re just lists for the NSA). I do donate, but like fuck will I do it performatively. I can’t go to protests cus I get panic attacky in crowds. I empathise pretty strongly with outsiders of all stripes but believe ridiculously excessively in the public good of criticism, and have a nostalgic love of trolling (I like to think I’m gentle with it though). Bring back the troll! We need that fucker, he’s a sign of a healthy internet. I’m writing this blog thing as an extension of my need to vent my extreme negativity. TBH I never expected to get any followers with ted twitter and the bizarre welcomingness of the hf twitter community totally wrongfooted me. I’m not nice. Ted isn’t meant to likable. He’s my dark side. I was meant to be using this alt as a way to terrorise the nice nice (secretly cruel) fashion people. I’m gunna try and up that aspect more. Just bear in mind, my complaints are largely about the system, but if I see you perpetuating fashion’s entrenched anti-intellectualism or its insidery bullshit, I’ll come for you with a little meta-bomb with your name on it. Maintaining my misanthropic tone does take work tho, like, deep down in some twisted part of my psyche, I guess I do actually want to be liked. It’s fucked up.

I suppose it’s only fair to explain this Ted fursona. Like, new concept, who dis? Why all the furry porn? …..because I just think it’s hilarious. Every time I think about the furries I cackle (not at them, mind). I just love the mad corruption of pure Disney aesthetics into hardcore pornography. That’s anti-authoritarian as fuck. I love the sincerity of their culture. The way the crazy fetish aspect means they’ll never be fully blandified by mainstream acceptance. The way it’s so cringe but so delightful. And more seriously, I’m interested in how a culture of mostly gay male nerds developed to the point where they’ll invest 10k in custom fursuits and support eachother’s independent businesses in ways that the fashion community completely fails to do. The fashion world sucks. There’s so many correlations there that I want to investigate: the newness (furries date from around the 70s, fashion culture in its self-aware state dates from the late 19th C – both very young fields); the centralisation/decentralisation; the hierarchy (furries can be pretty catty, I have discovered in my research, and we all know what fashion people are like); the adoption of new identities; the cis-boy gayness aspect (I’m increasingly tired of the extreme nasty hierarchy of certain CSM queens. It’s all very UGH. Just, fuck those particular bitches.) There’s more to the furry love, but I’ll explore it in future posts.

More importantly, why Ted fucking Kaczynski? I’m not like, actually a terrorist. (….yet. tehehe. NO, seriously I like non-maiming violence. Fuck yeah to property damage. Fuck yeah to disabling the system in extreme way. But no to wooden IEDs. Think of my shitty jokes that fail to land as my hand-crafted bombs). I think I like the shitness of Ted. He was just an epic fail of a terrorist. I’m a little white girl living in London. I’m not actually a primitivist, as much as I crave a hut in the woods. I did go to an elite school though. I had some really shitty experiences in the fashion industry in my early 20s, and I watch my friends who are relatively successful in that system and I get so angry on their behalf at their poor treatment. They think I’m too angry. Fuck that. They should be more angry, and the fact that they can’t be angry at their extreme precarity and the fact they’re still insecure and terrified of being ejected by the system after all their investment and skills they’ve built up is BULLSHIT. I’ll be double angry for them, I’m not invested in that system. I don’t need it to pay my rent. I’m free, motherfuckers, and I’m coming for the abusers and exploiters. If you’re a complacent industry figure not fighting hard from within, uggghhhhh fuck you. Yes, YOU. Soooo, I relate pretty hard to the MK ultra stuff. (go look him up, he was basically tortured and experimented upon by the elite). But there’s a pretty big chasm between my views and his, and I’ll try to be clear about the extent of my interest in his extreme beliefs. I haven’t even finished reading the manifesto. Basically, I watched that shitty show on Netflix with sam worthington around the same time I watched Joker (that movie fucked me up) and thought it’d be a good outlet to larp online as a terrorist. There’s the angry white alt-right school shooter aspect, which I’m still figuring out, cus I’m non-binary and I was raised by nutso trumpy right-wingers, who I barely speak to anymore, and I struggle to get along with people generally. There’s sad, self-pitying rage here. I empathise with the angry white dudes too much. I feel guilty about it. That’s good ground for artmaking (yes, shamefully, this…is…art. Sorry). I modelled this fursona a little after my brother, who I spent years living with and arguing with and trying to lift out of his scary racist youtube rabbit holes. This is actually quite an emotional thing for me, cus I did the ‘talk to your fascist family’ thing. And I completely failed. I realised his right-winginess wasn’t lessening, I wasn’t gaining ground, and in fact my excessive empathy and desire to reach out to the relative most similar to me in character meant his extremism was rubbing off on me. Making me more resentful and depressed. Feeling powerless. I was being too kind-hearted and forgiving of his masculine impotence. So I’m exploring some personal shit here. But Ted is also a cute lil fuzzball teddy bear. He means well, but me being super autistic and faily at social skills means he’s kind of a dick, cus I am. I’m going to try and further develop this character, this POV, and this post is the only time I’ll explain the divide between him and his creator (moi). The ‘I’ on the twitter and here is Ted Fashionski, I need that space between me and him. Masks give us this freedom to be more ourselves. Internet culture has lost a lot of its wild brutal anonymity in the last decade or so, now everyone’s afraid of making mistakes. How the hell do you grow if you’re not allowed to fuck up? This is a vital outlet. He’s become an important part of my life and I have to say, I love being Ted Fashionski. He’s like Paddington Bear who just escaped form Guantanamo or something.

I get pretty fatigued as a matter of course. I’m a long-term depressive since childhood. I have a difficult time keeping my hard-on for living. I don’t get suicidal really but I do struggle with extreme fatigue. I sleep a lot. I often fall into spirals of self-hate. And as someone who utterly believes in revolutionary leftist politics, I beat myself up about not doing enough. I’m so middle class and english and white. I was raised in such a chauvinistic and complacent culture; I don’t even know where to start. I’m wading my way through post-colonial literature and beating myself up for finding it boring and uncomfortable. It’s hard to force yourself to acknowledge your culture is The Bad Guys. It’s easier to fall into fanstasies of supremacy and butthurt misunderstoodness. And it’s not like my depressive brain needs any encouragement to hate me. My trajectory is ever leftwards, but I remember the righteous fury of being right-wing. I get it, that was me. We need more paths back from fascism, more comprehension of why people are that kind of shitty. I talk less, and less well, the more depressed I am. If I’m talking, it means im feeling a lot better. Just, fyi.

Give me a minute to be critical here. With the George Floyd protests, a lot of the cool guys on fashion twitter has gone blazingly hardcore on the political side. But there’s this troubling rhetoric about ‘no return to normal content’ or ‘this isn’t the time for fashion’. Like fuck it isn’t. This is a key problem with fashion culture right here, we have this received perception of fashion as empty escapism. Escapism matters in fashion, yes. But seriously, talking about the surfaces of things does not equal not caring about deeper meaning. What the fuck. Clothes are a connective tissue, a membrane between us. They’re emotional and powerful. We can talk about things that matter THROUGH clothes. I speak fashion, pretty fucking well. Most people who work at fashion magazines are morons with no understanding or respect for their subject. They’re incapable of doing it justice, and that’s deliberate. On this tumblr you’ll see rants and reviews of fashion and other artforms, always interpreting through a fashion lens. cus it matters, cus it’s a vital part of the culture, cus just because something has a glittery, seductive surface doesn’t mean it doesn’t communicate or contain depth. There’s no going back to ‘normal fashion content’, yes. Normal fashion content is a fucking psyop to divert legitimate interest in aesthetics amongst largely non-academic dyslexic visual types away from careful thought/feeling and towards empty consumerist commericiality. The traditional fashion media wants you to express yourself and your interest in the zeitgeist through buying more shit. Another fashion world is possible. Let’s destroy the old and build a new one, one where surface and spirit are connected and true and fashion can’t be abused in service of evil industrial monopolists.

/end rant. TLDR: angry fictional teddy bear with tin-foil hat and an eco-anarchist fetish says no to stupid fashion and yes to the renewal of conceptual fashion. Also, Fuck White People.

[austentatious]

Get to Know Tag

So I was invited to do this by @soundtracks2life​

Name: Almeera but my closest friends call me Eshi. Sometimes, I think people don’t know my real name is Almeera. I’d like to be called Almeera more. Star Sign: Leo Gender: Female Height: 5′3″ (5′4″ on my good days.) Orientation: Heterosexual Favorite Color: Red Time Right Now: 9:03 PM. We just got home from a trip. Current Location: Home, Philippines. Average Hours Of Sleep: 6 hours. Last Thing I Googled: Snake exoskeleton. I’m a biologist. Lucky Number: I’d like to think it’s 18 or 8 but I’m not really lucky. Number Of Blankets I Sleep Under: When you live in the Philippines, one is too much but I sleep with one blanket even if it’s scorching just to keep the mosquitoes away. I am allergic to mosquito saliva. Favorite Fictional Character: Hermione or McGonagall from Harry Potter, that guy from Dune by Frank Herbert (I read it a long time ago), Prince Caspian from Narnia, Captain Wentworth from Jane Austen’s Persuasion, and probably many more but I am exhausted from our trip so I can’t think. Favorite Book: At the top of my head, I liked Milan Kundera’s The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Prisoner of Azkaban, Persuasion by Jane Austen, Dune by Frank Herbert. Dream Job: Be a doctor and teacher and librarian and researcher and traveler. What I’m Wearing: I just had a bath and I’m wearing a top that’s too fancy to sleep in but oh well and some ratty old shorts. Random Fact: I double-knot my shoe laces. When Did You Create Your Blog?: When I was in high school, aka A LOOONG TIME AGO. Do You Have Other Blogs?: Yes, a private, password-protected blog where I write poems. Who Is Your Most Active Follower?: I don’t know. What Made You Get A Tumblr: One of my oldest friends told me to make one because it’s a cool site. Do You Get Asks On A Daily Basis: No. In a parallel universe, maybe. Why Did You Choose Your URL: I love Jane Austen and thought austentatious would be cool as a play on its homophone--ostentatious which was the deepest word I knew back in high school. I tried to be so complicated back then and I just stuck with it--call it branding.

Invade My Privacy Tag

1. Did you wake up cranky? When I haven’t gotten any sleep and someone switches on my light or makes loud sounds that woke me up from REM sleep. 2. Would you date an 18-year-old at the age you are now? No. I’m turning 23 in a few months. That’ll be a huge age gap for me. I’d prefer dating a not-so older guy. 3. Do you prefer to be friends with girls or boys? I used to prefer boys as they are less drama but people are people. I don’t have a preference anymore. Just be a sensible person. 4. Would you ever smile at a stranger? On occasion. Not all the time because I’d like to be invisible. 5. Can you commit to one person? Yes. The question is, could a person commit to me? 6. How do you look right now? Fresh, tanner, sleepy. 7. What exactly are you wearing right now? A mismatch of fancy top and ratty shorts. 8. How often do you listen to music? I used to listen to it everyday, whenever I’m not in class but these days, I seldom listen. 9. Do you wear jeans or sweats more? sweats. 10. Did you think your life will change dramatically before 2017? Yes. 2016 was the year I graduated, my Dad went to my graduation (this is ground-breaking because my parents aren’t together and he has a family and I haven’t seen him in 16 years). Also, I planned on going to medical school for sure in October 2016 (when I took the NMAT). That was the fiercest decision I had to make. 11. Are you a social or an antisocial person? Anti-social is too extreme. I don’t socialize if I can avoid but I am not totally opposed to it either. I socialize when I HAVE to so I’d say I’m more of an asocial 12. If the person you like says they like someone else, what would you say? I would never be the first to admit I like the person so if he tells me he likes someone else, I am safe from the embarrassment. I’ll probably act cool, shrug it off but deep inside I’ll be chiding myself for liking someone who can’t like me back. I’ll be able to move on pretty easily. I don’t create situations where I get invested too much. I am not comfortable about feelings and people. 13. Are you good at hiding your feelings? Every emotion except for anger. I get pissed off easily. I need to be kinder to people and myself but I am just so easily pissed off. 14. Can you drive a stick shift?  I can’t drive and I don’t want to drive. I am not confident about my eyes’ capability to assess road situations which is why I have to be rich so I can hire myself a driver. 15. Do you care if people talk badly about you? Yes. I think they talk badly about me even before they do, even if they really don’t but I try not to be openly affected by it. 16. Are you going out of town soon? Just went out-of-town a while ago but I will be going out-of-town in a few days to get lab exams done for my health record. 17. When was the last time you cried? Last month while watching Good Doctors. 18. Have you ever liked someone you didn’t expect to? Yes. It’s odd. Very odd. I moved on. 19. If you could change your eye color, would you? I wanted to have gray or green eyes but it probably won’t work with my complexion. I have brown eyes and brown hair. It’s enviable in some places?  20. Name something you have to do tomorrow? Do the laundry because I haven’t washed the clothes I wore from two weeks ago. 21. Name something you dislike about the day you’re having? That I didn’t get to swim in the beach as much as I’d like to. We were supposed to go to another beach but we got lost. I slept through the whole debacle but I’m not happy to wake up and realize we’re on our way home when I slept thinking I’d get to swim more. P.S. I can’t swim. I should say float and play on the water instead of swim. 22. Have you ever liked one of your best friends of the opposite sex? The last time I had a best friend was in fifth grade and all my friends were girls then. 23. Are you nice to everyone? I am not a nice-nice person but I try to nice. I’m more civil, actually. I am not easy to get-to-know in person. I am shy and awkward at first and I don’t like being totally nice because I think I’ll be a push-over then. I don’t like being vulnerable. 24. What are you sitting on right now? Wooden chair. 25. Do you think you can last in a relationship for 6 months and not cheat? Of course. I may not be nice but I still afford people respect. 26. Have you ever wanted someone you couldn’t have? What does it mean to want someone? 27. Who was the last person you talked to before you went to bed last night? My brother. I showed him Return of the Superman videos. 28. Do you get a lot of colds? Nope but on the off-chance that I get one, it’s pretty bad. 29. Have your pants ever fallen down in public? No. 30. Does anyone hate you? Probably. I’m not that likable. I believe people tolerate me. Maybe I should trust my friends more but I don’t even like myself sometimes so I can’t imagine people liking me. I plan to work on that. 31. Do you have someone of the opposite sex you can tell everything to?No. 32. Do you like watching scary movies? YES. 33. Are you a jealous person? For major reasons like this person is getting their shit together and I hope I do too, or this person seemingly gets to have it easy but I try to think about that ‘seemingly.’ Maybe something’s off in their life too that I just don’t know about and maybe they also have something to envy although it may not be obvious to me. 34. If you had to delete one year of your life completely, which would it be? 6th grade. Please. Let me just redo that year so I don’t reminisce and regret and cringe at old self. 35. Did you have a dream last night? I slept this morning. I probably had a dream but I forgot it now. I hopped through numerous islands today and that was exciting!!! 36. Is there anyone you can tell EVERYTHING to? No. 37. Do you think you’ll be married in 5 years? LOL, I’ll still be in school. I can’t see myself getting married. I haven’t even dated anyone legitimately. It’s hard to daydream such things when I want to focus on getting my shit together. 38. Do you think someone has feelings for you? I don’t think so. My gap year has been people-less. I hung out with my college friends and went to trips with my family. Haven’t met anyone substantially new and interesting. 39. Do you think someone is thinking about you right now? No. 40. Did you have a good day yesterday? Exhausting. 41. Think back 2 months ago; were you in a relationship? I can think back to the past five years and still be able to say no. A decade even. 42. Is your life anything like it was two years ago? Nope. For one, I was in school and struggling back then. I took some shitty profs for not-shitty classes. I got grades below average despite trying to work hard. I was set on going to graduate school then. 43. If the person you wish to be with were with you, what would you be doing right now? Going on that road trip. 44. What’s the best part about school? Learning, not necessarily inside the classroom. I was an active org member and I was so inspired everyday that I work with different people of different ages and motivations. 45. Do you have any pictures on your Facebook? Yep. 46. Do you ever pass notes to your friends in school? We used to. I remember passing notes during Genetics. Whenever we have something to react to that is not about the lecture. In Cell Mol too! There was an okra clipart in our prof’s powerpoint presentation and I have no idea if that was a trick to see who’s listening but it was super odd and funny I just had to ask my seatmates if they saw. 47. Do you replay things that have happened in your head? Yes. I write in my head about imagined scenarios. 48. Were you single over the last summer? Yes. When was I not? 49. What are you supposed to be doing right now? Sleeping. 50. Don’t tell me lies, is the last person you texted attractive? I think I texted my Mom? She’s beautiful.

EDIT: I was supposed to tag someone. Haha. I tag @feel-o-sophy, @thesociallyawkwardprincess, and @ergo-i-blog

[ellebeebee]

Seachange

Part Three/Nine

Part One || Part Two

After the couch incident, things get awkward between Liam and Mira.  He doesn’t know how to fix it, and plus he can’t get any traction on his efforts to make connections with the angara.  Liam is just having A Very Bad Time.

4339 words, Liam x f!Ryder, teen rating

AO3

-

At first, he thought he was imagining things.

After Havaarl, there was a lot to do to prep for Voeld and rescuing the Moshae.  So, yeah, maybe she didn’t have as much time to unwind on his couch with him, some vid playing in the background while they worked on reports and emails.  Maybe her avoiding the cargo bay and haunting the ops table almost around the clock was just anxiety about making nice with the angara.  Maybe the way she was too… careful about the way she looked at him and spoke to him, handling each word and glance as if he were a mother-in-law or something-- maybe it was a side-effect of the job.

But he knew better.

He wasn’t imagining things, as much as he wished he were, and this all started a week ago the day after the couch hook-up.

Liam suppressed a heavy sigh.  Wouldn’t matter much anyway; he knew that the rest of the crew was already used to him being the loudest, most obnoxious bunkmate anyways.

Around him, the Tempest’s crew drifted on their own dreams during the dark quiet of the ship’s sleep cycle.  He had a bottom bunk.  Switched with Gil once the engineer complained he was worried Liam would toss and thrash himself over the side of the top.  It was stupid; not once in his life had he ever fallen off the edge of a bed in the middle of the night.  It had to be some sort of thing like how you can get so used to a sleep schedule that you wake up on time even without an alarm.  Your body knows its edges, its limits.

Except apparently he doesn’t know where his boundaries are, ‘cause he’d clearly crossed one with Mira.

Liam kicked off his sheet.  The ship’s sanitized and cool air hit his bare chest, tickled his leg hair.  He only wore shorts to bed; he couldn’t stand the feeling of constriction with anything more.  His feet hit the chilly metal floor.  As he stood he glanced at Gil in the bed above him: the guy was a terribly light sleeper.  And the spawn of Satan, apparently, because he got up at, like, 0400.  On purpose.

Liam scratched at his chest idly, and pulled out the chair to the desk, grabbing his datapad.

...sure their data would be helpful, but there’s no reason to believe we can’t reach the same conclusions independently.  In any case, our reserves are too precious right now to spread out to…

...offer seems well-intended, but forgive us if we are not eager to enter hasty agreements with…

...all very well, but you seem to have very little concrete support in your offers…

...hard truth is, we can’t stick our neck out for a people who are clearly endangered; an investment without security…

“Investment without security” has got to be his favorite way yet for saying, hey, we really just don’t give a fuck about those other guys.

Shit, what was with people?  Seriously, what the actual fuck?  Okay, maybe the angara weren’t expecting a hundred thousand (not even that, though, with the missing arks) new aliens to come knocking on their doors, but, hey, hello?  Nice, not-attacking-them people on the verge of starvation?  And, yeah, maybe things were spread really, really thin in the Initiative.  Like, layer of oil slick thin.  Even so, they had to make overtures to the angara.  They had to prove they were going to be good neighbors.  They had to prove themselves worth establishing an alliance with.  How the hell did anyone expect to push through the kett problem, and all the Remnant shit, otherwise?

Fuck.  It was just the same old shit, new galaxy.

Oh, some fuckwad with an EMP and an agenda wiped out power and water for an entire city district and you need emergency rations for civs?  Here, let me just make you jump through legal hoops for it.  Oh, this colony hit by slavers needs upgraded tech and defenses?  Sorry, they’re actually unsanctioned squatters, so they’ll have to fend for themselves.  Let us slap some fines on them for illegal occupation while we’re at it.

Oh, you’re a little kid that can’t help but get worked up at what may seem like dumb shit.  We’ll just label you a troublemaker, an idiot.  Ignore you.

Liam smashed at his eye sockets with the heels of his palms.

The glow of the crew quarter’s screens slipped through the cracks between his fingers, the light of the ship’s diagnostics, real time data.  It was blue and harsh and neon.  Brought angry tears to the back of his throat.

He was letting his head get away from him, he knew, but that didn’t change the fact that he was drowning in things that mattered.  These things mattered.  His concerns were legitimate (goddamit, they were), so he was struggling so hard to not blow up.

He could talk to Lexi.  He could, but sometimes that was just too impersonal.  Like, yeah, Lexi would sympathize, but she was trained to.  She was trained to fix him, not the problems he was looking at.

There was Jaal, but the guy was still skittish about them.  Especially when you brought up something deeper than how do I call you a shit in Shelesh.  And that just fed the fire Liam wanted to put out.

He could run through the options all he wanted, but he knew exactly what he wanted right now.

He wanted to go to the hatch of the Pathfinder’s quarters, knock, and spill his guts to Mira.  He didn’t even want to touch her-- actually, no, that was a lie.  Yeah, he really wanted to touch her again.  Submerge himself again in her smell and the warmth of her arms.  Watch her again like that, released from her everyday bullshit.  Watch her release him from his own head.

But, even more than that--

He wanted her to be his friend again.

Not this weird no-man’s-land of not really friends, nowhere near lovers.  Not even strangers, new acquaintances.  Because he was good at that: making something good out of a ‘just met.’

This?  Fuck no, he was no good at figuring out what the hell to do to fix a relationship he’d obviously pushed too far, too soon.

Just.

Fuck.

-

Liam woke up with about three hours of consecutive shut-eye, a very angry and empty stomach, and a new determination to make the best of things.

Okay, so he was hitting some roadblocks with the angara contacts thing.  No big deal.  It was to be expected, really.  First contact was always bumpy at, y’know, first.  Hence, the ‘First Contact War.’  And the Krogan Rebellions.  He needed to be patient.  Yeah, yeah, ‘patient’ ‘Liam Kosta’ was an oxymoron but whatever.  He’d deal.  He had to.

Secondly, he and Mira had agreed to not let what happened get in the way of the mission.  But not to shelf the ‘them’ thing just yet.  Apparently, she still found it awkward, so he’d just make an extra effort to reestablish the friendliness between them.  Make it easier.  Hopefully.

So he spent the morning banging around the tech lab.  He sent a mail to Mira asking her to meet him there, and tried not to take too personally when she didn’t show for almost an hour.

When she did turn up, she found him sitting at the work table, surrounded by various bits of armor.  And in his hands: her breast plate.  Which he was staring at.  Right between, the, y’know.  Breasts.

At the open hatchway Mira cleared her throat.  Liam jumped.  She was gazing at him with raised brows, and he realized what it must look like.  He coughed and put it down slowly.  He grinned at her.  Normal.  Totally normal.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey…” she said.  And she did that thing she’d been doing ever since… y’know: she automatically looked down, remembered herself, and looked up with a smile.  Except it wasn’t that broad, full-lipped smile that curled at the corners just so.  Her smile was tight now, anxious.  Professional.

Liam stifled his own nerves to swivel on his stool toward her.

“I’ve been thinking,” he stated, a tad too loud and too carefully. “Voeld.  Cold as a witch’s tit, right?”

Her eyes shifted back to the breast plate he’d put down. ‘Tit.’  Goddamit, how did he keep doing this?  How?  It was a wonder he didn’t report to Lexi daily, no hourly, for his own foot lodged down his esophagus.

“That’s what they’ve told us,” Mira said with that weird smile again. “Jaal gave us some data with more specifics.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Liam agreed quickly.  He waved at the neon holoscreens arrayed around his bench. “I’ve been looking at that.  Nomad’s got good environmental controls, but we won’t be sitting in it all the time.  I thought I’d go over everyone’s armor and run some tests.  See how the thermoregulators are functioning.”

She nodded her head, tucked brown curls behind her ears.  He tried not to think about taking that dark amber shell between his teeth.

“Good idea,” she told him. “You… started on mine?”

“Uhm,” he started, glancing down at her upgraded and modded Initiative-issue plates sitting around him on the bench on crates. “Uh, yeah.  I mean, priorities?  I-- because you’re guaranteed to have your boots in the snow right?  Not-- uhm.”

And she was looking at him, waiting for his mouth to stop spewing.

He tried again, “So, I’ve been running tests!  This Nexus stuff isn’t bad, but it could always use help.  Am I clear to tinker a little?”

“Sure,” she said, shifting on her feet and still smiling stiffly. “Anything else?”

“Well…” he paused. “Whose armor should I, y’know, prioritize after yours?”

“Definitely Jaal’s.  If he’ll let you.  Do the angara even need it, though?  He said they don’t feel temps like we do.”

“Yeah, something about their electricity thing.”

“Yeah,” she agreed.  And paused.  She paused for a significant moment, a hand rubbing at an arm as if already imagining the bite of the wind and ice ahead of them.

“Uhm,” she continued, “Talk to Jaal about his armor situation.  And.  Uh… yours?  If you’re feeling up to it.”

Liam’s stomach did weird things.  Flipped about and made him simultaneously want to be ill and fly about like a damn budgie.  So dumb, to be this moved over something as simple (and routine!) as getting put in the field at her side.  Stupid, but he couldn’t help the grin that spread over his face.

“Blowing up kett heads?  Daring rescue of a damsel?  Pathfinder, you shouldn’t have.”

He was grinning at her, his tone light and playful.  He fully expected the mood to transfer.  Lighten the weirdness.  But Mira just stared at him with an inscrutable something going on behind her dark eyes.  The laughter dissolved on his tongue.  Shit, what was she thinking?  He wanted to know.  Badly.  He hated this not knowing and distance between them.  It was just… he thought they’d gotten close, that they were apart of each other, if even just a little bit.  And not just because of the sex.

“Just make sure you’re ready?” Mira said, expression unreadable. “And keep me informed about your work?”

Liam swallowed, nodded.

The tech lab door hissed quietly as she left.

-

He spent the day blaring music in his ears, running cold-temp stress tests on armor, and trying not to get worked up by the occasional unhelpful e-mail dropping into his mailbox.  And trying not to get overwhelmed by pessimism for both his professional (or “professional” in the opinions of others) and his personal life.

After staring at the data feeds he’d produced for so long that it all started to blur into a mess of neon blue hieroglyphs, he passed out.  Didn’t even register Jaal coming in to sleep in his cot in the lab’s corner.

Liam woke with a start at about 0500.  And woke Jaal, too.  Guy was still wound up around all these aliens, sleeping light.  Liam apologized for intruding in his space and left.

He wandered down to the galley and made the first pot of coffee.  Stuff wasn’t great, but it was growing on him.  Maybe eventually the scientists would figure out how to grow actual beans?  Maybe.

“Is that coffee I smell?”

He looked up.  Lexi stood in the hatchway, smiling at him for once.  She mostly made that ‘Kosta you are an idiot that makes my life difficult’ face at him.

“Fresh from the fabrication machines,” he told her, giving her a cheers gesture with his mug.

Ignoring his quip, she shook her head and went to the coffee maker. “Bless you.”

Watching her select a mug from a cabinet and pour from the carafe, Liam commented, “You’re up early.”

She glanced at him. “That’s what I should be saying.  I’m always up at this hour.  You aren’t.”

He shifted in his seat at the galley table and smiled over his mug, waiting for her to take her coffee and move on.  But she paused in the hatchway.

“Liam?” Lexi asked, head slightly tilted. “Are you having trouble sleeping?”

Her tone is that soft one, the doctory-can-I-help-you one.  And her eyes rove over him, picking up on his waxy, tired skin and inwardly-bowed posture.  He wanted some glib and funny defense to roll off his tongue, but nothing was coming to mind.  And maybe he didn’t really want to be deflective all that much.  Liam put down his mug.

“You got a minute?” he asked.

Lexi pulled out a chair across from him. “Of course.”

She rested her mug on the aluminum tabletop and leaned a little forward, all compassionate eyes and full attention.  It made him squirm a little, but no pain, no gain, right?

“Still not making much progress with the angara connections,” he told her. “And, yeah, I know it’s not all my responsibility--” Which he didn’t really believe and Lexi’s expression seemed to know that he didn’t either, “--but then, whose is it, then?  Someone has to start this.”

He fiddled with his mug and the doctor waited patiently. “It just seems like no one gives a shit, and I can’t understand it.”

Lexi propped her chin on a hand. “Liam, have you considered that your asking is worthwhile in itself?  I know you want real results yesterday, but that’s not exactly realistic, is it?  However, the fact that you’re passionate about establishing strong ties between the Initiative and the angara-- that speaks volumes.  And not just to me.  But to all the people saying ‘no’ to you right now.”

He shrugged. “Well, if they’re hearing, they’re still saying no.  What good is it if nothing actually comes from me shouting my bloody head off?”

“Liam,” she said, and her tone shifted to make him look up into her eyes. “I think you don’t hear this enough, but you are inspiring.  We will always need people like you.  Who care and are passionate and work so hard to make things better.  All of us on this ship need that.  Everyone out there--” She gestured vaguely at the hull. “Them too.  Even if they don’t realize it.”

He smiled a little at her, and felt the persistent tightness in his chest shift.

“Umm, another thing…” he coughed.

Lexi paused with her mug hovering, a brow raised.  And the look she gave him, eyes carefully attentive, made him think she knew exactly what ‘other thing’ he was about to bring up.  Well, whatever.  He didn’t care if the whole crew knew about his romantic misadventures (which they probably did), but he wasn’t sure how she felt.

“I think I’ve really screwed things up with Mira,” he told her. “I mean, we… y’know.  And we agreed to not let it interfere with everything.  But it just seems like she’s just… finding it awkward and weird, and I don’t know what to do.  Like, should I just leave?”

Lexi’s eyes widened. “Let’s not be too hasty here.  I’ve noticed some increased tension between you two, but I don’t think it’s gotten to the point of reassignment.  Whatever’s going on sounds like some failure of communication, because I know you both care for and value each other.  I wouldn’t be too pushy in trying to ‘fix’ it, though.  Let’s just relax, Liam.  Let her work out whatever she’s trying to work out. But make yourself available if she wants to talk.”

Liam snort with a self-deprecating grin. “Be patient?”

She gave him a look. “I know how you so hate to hear that, but yes.”

He laughed awkwardly. “Uh, yeah.  I got it.  Stop being an idiot, Kosta.”

“No,” Lexi stated firmly. “You’re not an idiot.  You just care a lot.”

He went in for a sip of coffee because heat was rising in his face, and he had a hard time taking stuff like that.  Lexi smiled and patted his hand.  And left, claiming something something kett dna synthesis something.

Liam spent a few more minutes in the quiet galley nursing his first mug of the day.

Turns out, new beginnings were a shitload work.  Who knew?

-

Voeld was colder than a witch’s tit.

It was kind of sad really: how fast he and Mira would jump from the warm and orange spheres of warmth around the Resistance heaters.  The modifications he made to their suit’s thermoregulators helped.  It was a tricky thing to set the sensors to a hair trigger in dangerously low temps, set off the little eezo drives to work at a furious pace.  And then to set a protocol to conserve power once temps endurable for their physical layers of ceramic and insulation were reached.

Blah blah blah, but it was still cold as hell.

Not moving made it worse.

That’s why it kinda sucked that they were camped out in the Nomad parked on a cliff overlooking a kett encampment, waiting to ambush a squad scheduled to land.  At least, according to an intercepted comm SAM had picked up on.  It had only been a half hour, but Liam’s teeth were chattering and his bits were trying to crawl back up into him.  He half hoped that Mira would just give up on popping the heads of this particular squad of kett and head back to Techixx or the Resistance base or, please baby Jesus, the Nexus and its deliciously artificial spring humidity.

But Mira just silently shivered beside him in the driver’s seat, eyes behind the bluish plexi of her helmet rapt upon the scattering of kett ground vehicles and empty storage containers below.  Recon.  Endless stores of patience and all that, goddamit.

Behind them, Jaal delicately snored.  His immunity to the stabbiness of the ass-eating cold was becoming increasingly irritating to Liam.

“How’s your suit?” he asked her.

She glanced at him.  He couldn’t see her mouth behind the breather unit of his helmet, but he could see in the tightness around her eyes that her smile still hadn’t improved.  They’d reached Voeld a few days after he talked to Lexi, and Liam had done his best to keep up his friendliness whenever their paths crossed on the Tempest.  But he didn’t go hunting her down, gave her her space.  Maybe it helped?  Shit, he didn’t know.

“It’s a big improvement,” Mira told him, voice tight and high with cold.

He forced down the comment that wanted to roll of his tongue, pointing out how she was obviously still freezing.  Space, space he told himself.

Jaal whistled through his nose shrilly.

Liam snorted, bit his lip.  A long pause.  And he couldn’t help it; it was too fucking cold and he’d been too damn tense for too long.  He began to laugh.  It built until he was helpless with giggles, his side painful with sharp stitches.  Beside him, Mira caught his amusement.  She was laughing, doing that thing where she covers her grin with a hand.  Even though she had her helmet on, and even though it was really a crime against the universe at large to hide a smile like that.

Mira shook her head, inhaling sharply to recover. “How can he do that?  Just.  Sleep.  In this cold.”

Liam coughed. “I dunno.  Maybe he’s dead.”

She slapped at his shoulder.  Lightly, in that playful and completely not-serious scolding way she hadn’t done in forever.

“Don’t say that!” she told him. “That’s just what we need.  Oh, sorry, Evfra, we somehow managed to get your man killed, but you’ll still trust us, right?”

Liam chuckled. “Oh, sorry, Evfra, that thing about saving the Moshae?  Yeah, screwed it up.  You’ll still give us resources and seeds and shit, right?”

“I’m not playing this game,” Mira stated, turning back to the front view of the Nomad.

It gave him a good look at her profile, at the way her eyes crinkled in amusement.

Below them, down the steep vivid blue plunge of the cliff face, the kett camp showed zero signs of movement.  None.  Not even a little ankle-biting wraith spawn.  God, it was goddam cold.  The sky above hung heavy and thick with ice and snow, visibly hard with menace and gray.  But if he could take that little huff of lightness and happiness she made-- if he could just take that little morsel and run with it, he could perhaps believe that things would take a turn for the better.  That the next time he synced up with the Tempest’s QE comms, a friendly response to his overtures would be waiting.  That not everything was shit.

“Liam…” Mira said softly.  She was looking very hard out the forward window.  If he hadn’t been hanging on to her every gesture and word, he might have thought she hadn’t said anything.

She cleared her throat and looked at him.  Her dark eyes flickered over him, their depths saying a ‘talk’ was coming.

He made himself relax, loosen his shoulders, and turned to meet her gaze.

“Yeah,” he said.  Sort of a question, and sort of an acknowledgment.  Yeah, he knew.

“I--” she started. “I know things have been, like, weird.  It’s my fault, I’m sorry--”

She shook her head to stop him from denying it; he kept quiet but made a mental note to give back that ‘sorry’ as unnecessary.

“I tried my best to keep things like they were, to be professional about it.  But I suck, obviously.”

Another note to his mental list to refute.

Mira paused, her helmet’s breather filtering her sigh as slight and breezy. “I just-- I dunno.  I didn’t expect things to progress, y’know.  Like that.”

And her gaze flickered, uncertain.  He wanted very badly to interject and reassure her, but she quickly started again as if afraid that she’d lose her momentum:

“And I know I said I was good with things.  That we wouldn’t let this become a big deal or interfere with the mission.  I know I said that, but I-- crap, I guess I’m just-- immature or whatever.  I don’t know.”

She inhaled sharply.  Exhaled.  And she looked him in the eye, a lot of things contained in her gaze and all of them making him sweat and making his pulse jump and his throat tighten.

“I just really like you, Liam Kosta.  I really, really, really, really like you.”

Aw shit, how could she just punch him, full-force, right in the gut like that?  Just impale his heart with her words and stare him down.  Brutal.  Merciless.  Blood-thirsty.

And she just kept going, a rolling stone of feelings and words killing him, “And I’m not trying to pressure you or anything.  I’m not expecting a reply or a commitment or whatever.  I just-- things have been so weird and I owed it to you to just spit it out already, and I’m sorry that I’ve been kind of a jerk--”

“Mira,” Liam stated.

She paused.  Waited and watched him warily.

He shifted. “Can I hug you?”

She blinked at him.  Whatever she’d been expecting, it probably had not been that.  Her brows scrunched, and the muscles around her eyes (those freckled cheeks) worked over a myriad of emotions.  Tentatively, she nodded.

Liam reached across the Nomad’s front console.  It was weird, hugging in full armor.  Stuff banging and clacking about, hard edges digging in uncomfortably.  You had to be careful not to snag on a toggle or hook or something.  And it did not spark the same sort of warmth and closeness you got with the touch of soft cloth and real flesh.

But it was one of the best hugs he’d ever had, breathing in the incredibly cold and sanitized air from his suit’s filters and gripping onto multiple layers of ceramic.  Because underneath it all was her and she liked him.

That’s all he needed.

The two of them stayed like that for a long time.  His arm folded over her back and feeling the rise and fall of her calming heart.  The transferred vibrations of her breath in the crook of his collarbone.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

She shook her head, a subtle shift into his shoulder. “Can you just do me a favor?  Don’t call me Pathfinder.”

He paused. “I can do that.”

Jaal cleared his throat. “I hate to interrupt a lovely and very important moment, but the kett shuttle is incoming.”

Liam and Mira jumped apart as if shocked.  They both coughed and lunged for their guns.

“Uh, good call, buddy,” Liam remarked, totally natural.

“Hmm,” Jaal hummed with a thread of amusement.  Ass.

In the rush of gearing up in the awkwardly small space-- elbows colliding and harried requests for scatter grenades and ammo from the back-- Liam caught her eye.

“Mira--” he started.

She shook her head, “Later.  Don’t worry, Liam.  I get it.”

He wanted to stop her, tell her, no, she didn’t-- but there were rounds waiting be burned and targets to burn them on.

‘Patient’ Liam Kosta?

Well.

Who the hell knows?

[cheerstocrazy]

Dates with Hippie

9/7 Met him from Hinge. We actually swiped right on each other a couple of years ago from Bumble, but I don’t think he remembers, and I only remember bc I stalked him and was making fun of him with PP abt a white guy loving India. He was really eager in conversations with me and replied hella quickly. He even told me I was cute TWICE, when he had never met me in person. He invited me to the mariachi festival at DTSA. I was thinking mariachi?? Whatever, be a good sport. Parking was a nightmare. Walked around bc he wasn’t replying to my texts, watched the mariachi on my own. Started walking toward Wursthaus and saw him, and thought hey, he’s pretty cool, tall, looks abt the same as his photos or even better. Called him to tell him I was there and asked where he was. I don’t think he took it as srsly as he should have. He wasn’t really talking to me?? And was more invested in the performances and also his cousin came, so he was with us the whole time. It was so weird. We weren’t really talking abt anything except what music we both liked. He also seemed to know everyone in DTSA. He went to fix the sound when the girl’s PA wasn’t working. I was thinking wtf, you’re supposed to be on a date WITH ME, talking TO ME. Here you are leaving me alone and talking to other people. My parking meter was going to expire in 90 mins, and I was thinking abt booking it then. I was over watching the girl at the stage, so he said we should go to the mariachi stage to catch his friends. I wanted a drink and mentioned that too….saying I wanted a Michelada. It was 10 bucks, such a scam!! And I was like can we pleaseeeeee go get a drink, I’M DYING!!!! We went to Vacation bar and got a batshit host who talked too much. We got Mezcal drinks, and he was asking me abt my spirit animal, and I straight up said Joanne the scammer. Then he said no, a literal animal, so I said a sloth lol. Then after I heard their way better answers, I was like have you guys thought abt this in detail? I asked what animal is a savage. And they probed me abt how savage I was. I replied: I am the most savage person you have ever met. I’m withholding it rn bc you guys aren’t ready for who I really am. Randal said trust me, you can’t shock me, just be who you really are. That’s what I want to know abt people, who they really are and upfront so I’m not shocked later on. I was like you have no idea who I am. And I’m savage for a reason, you don’t know what my intentions are. You have to know if I’m actually a good person or not, and you need way more context to get what I’m saying. My savagery isn’t from malice, it’s for fun and bc I’m evil. They also insulted me correct gif pronunciation. He asked me abt Jorja Smith. I said I would reincarnate as her. We shit on the govt a little bit, and I said whatever you feel, I feel it 5x stronger. Idr the rest, we left to go back to the mariachi. He saw more of his friends, he was planning on hanging out with his group of friends then he lost them. We ended up going to The Gypsy Den, so his cousin could pee. I also finally checked my phone to realize my PARKING METER HAD EXPIRED FOR OVER AN HR. I WAS FREAKING OUT. I CAN’T AFFORD A TICKET!!!! I ran back to find out someone had put more money in my meter. YOU FREAKING ANGEL!!!!! THANK YOU SO MUCHH!!!! The car behind me had been ticketed. I am so lucky. Bless up. There are good people in the universe. He asked me do you have rhythm? I was like with what? Dancing? Yes ofc, I’m not a gringo. I came back and we went to an art gallery. Randall asked me what my thoughts were. Me: I don’t like this art/paintings. It’s all dumb and I don’t get it. We went to this other gallery area and he asked me what my thoughts were on this seemingly Japanese and Native American painting. To which I replied, cultural appropriation. I said I would need more context from this artist to see if he/she really understand the history of these people and how their paintings were highlighting anything abt these cultures. We went into another exhibit, and Idk what lead us to this topic, but I said we need more diversity in art, that goes across literature, music, etc. And that there are a lot of good people in the world, but the bad ones are what you remember. I agreed, but my line of thought was more that the bad have so much power. It fucking sucks knowing I can’t do anything abt it. I said I come from a place of a lot of privilege and I want to lift everyone too. Why do the bad people want to suppress and oppress people?? After this, we wanted to go get drinks but his cousin wanted food, so he FINALLY LEFT, SO WE COULD TALK ALONE. We watched this older group of men perform some surfy music, which was not bad at all. I enjoyed it a lot. It was funny bc everyone stood in this whole ass perimeter away from the musicians. Idky they self-segregated, it made me laugh. If nothing else, this is what I’ll take away from Randall’s date with me. We were laughing at this one lady who was dancing in the middle and recording some of the band. I referenced Kris Jenner’s You’re doing amazing, sweetie, and he didn’t get it smh. By now, he had put his arm around me and was lightly touching me. It was a bit past 10 and his cousin and he were talking abt leaving. He said there was a mezcalero close to his apt, and that I could stop by…...if I wanted, so yeah…..He said it so awkwardly, both his cousin and I were like why’d you have to say it like that?? And he replied, bc that’s who I am...that’s me. Then they both stared at me for an answer, and I said stop staring at me, it’s making me uncomfortable. I said I’d come. Parking was horrible. I drank more than I ate yday. I texted him I was there, and he came outside. We walked to the mezcal bar, and the service was shat bc the bartenders were so busy so he asked if I had heard of the Blind Donkey, so we went there instead. Neither of us had been there before, but it was pretty poppin. We got our drinks and I stupidly walked us back out to the entrance thinking it was the upstairs lmao idiot. We sat on a random couch, but it was too loud, so we moved back behind the speakers. They were playing throwback indie bangers, and I was loving. They played Banquet by Bloc Party, and An Honest Mistake by the Bravery. I was like ugh so good, I was sitting dancing, then when Gorillaz DARE came on, I was like okay let’s go dance, and grabbed his hand. He wasn’t a horrible dancer, could use more rhythm, but he was legitimately dancing and having fun, which is what I appreciate! They kept playing really good shit, then he went to dance behind me and sometimes he would wrap his arms around me and hold me which felt nice. And I think his head rested perfectly over my head bc I’m that small. I turned around at one point and kissed him, and he’s not a bad kisser at all. I liked it/him a lot. 8/10. I expect nothing less than his caliber of kissing...Males should not kiss like wet fish or be sloppy. You guys are all old and have had multiple gfs!!! All I have to say for these 90 minutes was that I had a blast, and it was so much fun, and it’ll probably go down as one of my favorite nights of this year. I’m pretty sure we were the only ones dancing at most points of the night, and I DIDN’T EVEN CARE. I am wayyy too tired to process everything, but I had a ton of fun. I mean the latter half of the night will be part of that best night of the year too. Dancing with someone remotely familiar who knows the music is always a fun experience. I asked to leave to get some fresh air, and we hugged outside. He said let’s go take a walk. Not sure what we talked about, but it was nice to be on empty streets walking around. We held hands the entire time. The topic of drugs came up, and I was saying I understand why people take drugs to cope with life bc it’s so fucking hard sometimes, and it’s so overwhelming. It’s hard to deal with it on your own. It’s so hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel sometimes. It feels like a hell hole. He said something along the lines of yeah, I’ve succumbed a few times. I’ve fallen into a depression and went to sleep not wanting to wake up bc there was nothing going for me. Then we got back to his apt area, and we sat on some random steps. Not really sure what we spoke abt here or what his game plan was. He put his arm around me and we chilled. And I kept looking to the left bc I didn’t want to make eye contact to the right O_O He lightly tapped me on my shoulder, so I turned around, then he immediately kissed me (which was so smooth). He’s a great kisser. I liked his rhythm and style. He does the triple lingering kiss at the end which is my favorite thing. He also caresses me full body which is nice too. I’m not that affectionate...so...I’ll work on that. He kissed me all throughout my neck, shoulders, ears. He’s pretty good. At one point, I put my legs over his leg, and it got more intense. He started caressing my legs and going up my thighs. I told myself I wouldn’t get WGW or have sex tonight. Generally, my hand goes immediately to a man’s crotch and I tried to remain as restrained as possible. Then he started going close to my underwear or over it, so I was like yo, 2 can play at this game. And I already knew he had been hard for probably hours, so I grabbed it from outside his pants..and he was wet already. I rubbed his balls, and I could hear him moaning in my ear. He kept putting his hand through my hair to kiss me more intensely, and all I could think was I’M BALD. DON’T DO THIS TO ME. YOU’RE LITERALLY TAKING HAIR OUT!!! My life is already so difficult ); I think earlier he had asked if I was going to drive home or wanted to stay over, and I said I can drive home. He said good bc he lived in a studio and space was limited. Then ¾ into the makeout session, that was TAKING FOREVER with SO MANY PEOPLE PASSING BY AND WATCHING AND SEEING MY CROTCH FLASHED, he whispered, do you really have to go home, can’t you just stay? I didn’t reply. Then this one guy with LLD who made a lot of noise passed by us, so I stopped and looked at him. He laughed….then later he asked can we go to your car and do this in a not so sketchy spot. We are not 17!!!! You are too big for my car anyway. This is fine--there is space here! At points, we would stop kissing and I hugged him tight and rested my head on his shoulder to enjoy the moment, intimacy, and silence. I almost wanted to say this is nice, thanks. Thank god, I didn’t. I also wanted to pull out my phone and soundtrack this scene to Heartbeats by Jose Gonazlez, but that’d be TOO CHEEZY. One time I rested my head on his shoulder and was closing my eyes bc I was so sleepy!!! He’s like are you sleeping??? Bitch I MIGHT BE. I always thought he would finish kissing me after we ended with our lingering kisses, then he’d come back for more. Finally, I said I’m gonna head out bc I’m so tired. He said he’d walk me. We held hands and he walked me back. I said I still have my gum in my mouth, it’s called talent. We kissed AGAIN at the car, then he squeezed me tight and let me go. Told me to drive home safe and light slapped my ass. I was so tired. I still am. How do I feel about all of this? It was a nice and fun night. Did it beat the effortlessness and ease of convo with Liorr? No...But I generally don’t kiss anyone I kind of like/who has potential on the first date. We made out for an entire fucking hour. Holy fuck, NO WATER, NUFFIN. That’s impressive m8. We hung out for about 9 hours. That’s A LONG ASS TIME. I didn’t necessarily feel an intense connection/chemistry, but that’s bc Idk him. There weren’t any red flags for me. Whenever I expressed my opinion, he would validate it and build upon it which is refreshing considering most guys would become defensive and be quick to strike my opinion down. You asked for it, you twats. If you asked me for a perfect date, it would be either be dancing + drinks at a festival/bar, and I got that. I had a fucking blast. Imagine if I actually had a FESTIVAL BAE. WAH ALL I WANT IS TO BE HELD!!! 

9/13 Date #2 

Initial reactions: I felt so safe, seen, understood. It’s so easy. I’m shook. You know how after Tyler and Hannah’s date, Hannah said “I’ve never felt so respected”--that’s how I feel on a smaller scale. I like this d00d bc he has no ego and actually listens to me and replies directly to what I say. We’re so in sync physically, it’s stupid. It’s so easy to talk to him, and the way he holds me--everything. Kill me, I love his kisses; I love the way he smells. He’s way more romantic than me and so affectionate. I am stone cold, and he makes me not want to be that and reciprocate to maybe ⅓ of his level. Who raised him? They did so well! And all his exes did so WELL IN TEACHING HIM HOW TO TREAT A GIRL AND HOW TO KISS. 

I think I like him. That was probably one of my favorite dates ever, if not my favorite date. It was so easy, relaxed, chill, low-key. He said he was leaving for HB early, and wasn’t texting me afterward, so I was kind of hesitant if he actually left or not. I was thinking, “What if I get stood up? Whatever, I can drink at the beach by myself. NBD” He did reply and said he was parked which made me feel relieved. I got out of the car and saw that he was parked and walking toward me. I’ll never get over how tall he is. He surely is taller than 6 ft!!! We walked toward the beach, talked abt our day. I saw that there was a patrol looking car driving along the street we were walking. It was a trash truck, and it was emptying/putting new bags along the walkway. We walked away, and somehow it would always end up behind us. Whatever. We mostly talked about drugs and his experiences with it. I opened a beer too while we talking. He talked abt his preference for psychedelics. He said he did acid while in India with a girl he met up with whom he had hooked up on and off for 3 years back when he was younger. He said the conversation they had while on acid was the reason they were able to maintain a friendship afterwards, otherwise that would’ve been over. Hmmm, cryptic. We finally got to the benches/tables I wanted to sit at, and I said my boots were hurting (which they were). It was pretty wet, but I put down my blanket for us to sit on it. We talked a lot abt his experiences traveling in Sri Lanka/India. I wanted to know more abt Sri Lanka and how he traveled there. He also said India is his favorite country and he wants to return again next year. I asked him what’s the pull for India? Why? He explained to me he liked the duality and chaos, the mix of wealth and poverty, there’s always a lot going on, etc. I said it’s so strange for me to hear someone who loves it so much when my experience was so different and frustrating. I talked abt the instance where we almost got sexually assaulted. He replied: yeah, sorry about that. That’s horrible, I can’t imagine how it is to travel as a girl there. I really appreciated that response. How many guys in the world would be able to apologize, validate me, and empathize? Maybe 3 people. When we sat next to each other, he always rubbed/caressed my back, and they were really good massages tbh!!! When I was telling my India story, he didn’t really do that anymore, sensing the urgency and conflict to come in my story. And Idk when he did this, but we were talking and he ended up resting his head on my shoulder leaning back into me, and it was so cute, I nearly died. I hadn’t been touching him or doing anything. He seemed to feel really comfortable. We talked a lot abt his marketing agency bg, and we talked abt being laid off and what we did after that. I think we were in this weird intertwined position. He hugged me from behind, and he was sitting to my left, but his head was on my right shoulder, so I leaned opp way..and he replied so basically we did the same shit and ran away, diff times. I told him I had the same birthday as Donald Trump and I could relate to him when I was 12 bc I’ve since grown up. When I was 11, I told a kid who stood up on a chair, “be careful not to break the chair!” My teacher, Thompson smh and was like Natalie, you can’t say shit like that. Hippie said he was never in a position to be a bully bc he moved schools when he was in 4th grade from Mississippi to Louisiana. He said he was a hillbilly and spoke with a different accent. I asked him what kind of accent it was, and he kept saying oh man, Idek how to do it anymore. Saying I reckon etcetc, and I laughed bc I hear that only in shows/movies and from British people. He told me I smelled nice. I said, “You do too! I can’t pinpoint the smell tho.” Him: I did shower! He said it’s probably my conditioner. I smelled his hair, and it was def his conditioner. He said when he was working at his agency, he was considered the nerd there bc he played video games and was weird, then he said when he went to work at Blizzard in Irvine, he felt like a jock bc he has interests outside of video games. I can’t even imagine how dweeby everyone is there. He kept saying how tough this year is for him, but he feels like with the changing of the seasons, fall feels like it’s gonna be better (I BETTER BE A PART OF IT). I was starting to get worked up abt my job and complaining, so he said we don’t have to talk abt work anymore and kissed me. We kissed for a long ass time, and he told me, “I really like kissing you.” I replied “I like kissing you, too.” Then he said something like, “I could just sit here and kiss you all night, it’s ridiculous. I especially love your bottom lip. It’s so *insert adjective I can’t recall thick? Juicy? plump?* He kept playfully kissing only my bottom lip, and it was so cute UGH KILL ME. He kissed every inch of my body, legs to arms, head to toe. HE KNOWS HIS WAY AROUND ;_; He kept telling me I was so cute. He asked me if we could go back somewhere, but I said none of us live near here. Funny tidbit: He fingered me (and it was really smooth and FUCKING GOOD. I think our sex would be incredible) then he when he ended, he licked each finger, and he said, “Damn, you taste so fucking good. Weird compliment, but it’s true.” I laughed. I was wearing my high-waisted shorts, and he kept trying to unzip from the front, and I told him the zipper is on the side. He asked why the belt was in the front? “Aesthetics.” He was super hard, but I didn’t want to go thru the trouble of unbuckling his belt and unzipping. He said you know you can undo my pants. So I did...and he asked if I could do it with one hand. And in my head, I was like BRUH PLS LEAVE IT TO THE EXPERT. During this period was when the trash picking up man kept going back and forth behind us making so much noise. I was like srsly??? WE’RE DOING STUFF HELLO. And people were walking at night too. It’s 2am!!! Why wouldn’t you walk during the daytime??? We hugged each other during these moments and laughed. It was a full moon this night, so the beach was so gorgeous and illuminated. When we finished, he said “I should put my dick away.” It was def above average and kind of long??? At the end of everything, when I was folding up the wet blanket, he came from behind and hugged/held me, saying you’re so freaking cute. We stood there and idk what to do but it felt so nice, safe, warm. *cries* He kissed my neck and did the sideways kiss (which I always find super fucking awkward and unromantic), but it was totally sweet and natural with him. I really relished the quiet moments between us. Then we walked back and were talking abt the govt, economics, and corporations. He and I agree on everything so whatever I said, he’d say too. He walked me to my car and we said bye. He held me and kissed me for an extended amt of time. He kept doing the lingering kisses and I couldn’t bring myself to leave. He’s my favorite kisser for sure. I remember thinking “not to be dramatic, but his kisses could bring world peace.”

9/18 Date #3 in Orange

There were so many things that annoyed me before the date. So he said hey I have the apt to myself, come hang out. I thought I was going to Long Beach. I think I worked a 10 hr day, and was like fuck I have to haul ass up to LB now. GREAT. I texted him I was headed out, then he said he was going to an open mic night in Orange. And I was like well wtf, we made plans and you’re just telling me this now? He always tells me things so last minute. I HATE IT. 

Initial thoughts: I don’t think we’re compatible with each other. I don’t think we’re at the same points in our live bc I’ve just come out of my crisis (it’s been a year), and he’s in the thick of his. I don’t think he has enough security in his life to take on another human. And that’s fine--I’m not even needy (ok kind of) but self-sufficient. Not only is he not ready to be in a relationship, but I don’t think we want the same things right now either or have enough common ground. He’s into playing live music and his music collective; he’s spiritual, into yoga and rock climbing. I’m not into that at all. He’s going to a festival for a while, and it’s all spiritual meditation/yoga, which is my fucking nightmare. He never asks anything abt me. It’s mostly me asking questions and getting to know him. Maybe he was having an off day yday. He literally said “I need a place to live 10/1...and ya that’s not going” I’m pretty level-headed abt this, but also I don’t want to be with someone (even if it’s casual) at their best or normal self. I don’t want to be a burden or carry the weight of their burdens. Is that selfish??? I’m realizing this may not be in and taking it in stride. It doesn’t have to be a permanent thing or even something that endures. It could be temporary idk. I’m tempering my feelings for sure. I don’t think I’m the girl for him. I think I’d be a stabilizing force for him and a good ear to bounce ideas off and someone to whom he could vent, but what’s in that for me? I’m learning to be more selfish, not just with my standards, but what I get out of these things. I didn’t have as much fun this time as the last 2, but the bar was so high from the last 2. We can’t always be our best selves, but I’m always my best self when I’m with someone new. Interesting tidbit: He told me the first time he cried was 2012 to Brokeback Mountain. The moment I knew I wasn’t it: He described his dream house/living situation..He said he only wanted to live with musicians and wanted a spare room with a studio to host jam sessions, playing sessions, which is not to say he wants that exclusively and can’t like other things. But I’m so faaaaaaar from that and any other of his passions. I think he’s so invested in music and has tunnel vision with that, that he only wants to be surrounded by other people who want that, too, whereas most normal musicians have non-music friends too. This is me maybe assuming, but I think I’m astute. At the end of the night, we hugged bye and it felt so weird, and I didn’t know what was gonna happen. Bc the entire time, it felt like I was pulling out teeth to keep the conversation going, and he was so aloof and withdrawn. I would cater the convo to topics he liked, and he would give me depressing answers that took me aback. Like when I asked if he snowboarded, he said no, that could hurt my legs. He was so trite. Talked abt his ACL surgery, everything bad that he had experienced….I heard abt it. It was draining for me to listen and keep up a positive attitude and maintain any semblance of levity. At the end, he hugged me, told me to have fun, and have a safe drive out to Vegas. He held me for a bit, so Idk we ended up kissing. It felt empty. He dropped his skateboard and hydro before he kissed me, kind of clunky, kind of funny. I left feeling discouraged and frustrated. 

[mikeyd1986]

MIKEY’S PERSONAL BLOG 131, November 2018

On Monday night, I attended a Yin yoga class with Aaron Petty at Level Up Yoga in Berwick. Tonight was a last class before Aaron heads off on his trip to Bali for 3 weeks to do an intensive training course. It was a 30 degree hot humid day outside but I really didn’t want to miss this class as I’ve been putting off my yoga practice again recently. It was unusually packed in the studio but being Aaron’s last class a few weeks, I should have suspected that. Thank goodness that the air-con and ceiling fans were turned up or else I would have been sweating heaps.

Aaron guided up through a series of yin style poses including caterpillar, toe squat, straitjacket pose and leg extensions with strap. I found these all to be particularly challenging with my pain and discomfort threshold being tested as well as my annoying anxious mind on rapid fire (Am I doing this right? Oh shit, my strap’s twisted. God this hurts so much! My legs look like a mangled mess). But I did my best to not get caught up in those thoughts and just focus on breathing and releasing. https://www.yinyoga.com/ys2_2.0_asanas_toe_squat.php

I also tend to get myself emotional during Yin classes mostly because there’s a microscopic focus on me and that can be quite confronting at times. Loving yourself is one of the most difficult things to do but also one of the most important things. Hence why I often find it so hard. It helps to connect with positive affirmations like “I deserve to be here practicing yoga. I am worthy. I do belong in this yoga community. I am not alone. I am accepted and welcome.” http://www.annieauyoga.com/library/2018/6/13/your-emotional-self-care-guide-in-yin-yoga

Saying goodbye to Aaron is still something I find painfully awkward to do. And it’s not just him either. It’s the internal pressure of knowing exactly what to say and when to hit the exit. But I made it short, sweet and simple. “Have fun in Bali.” Was there anything more to say? Not really. I’m not the type to ramble on about what’s going on in my life because that’s not how I roll. Still it was nice to see him showing that he cares and I’m excited for his trip away though I can’t pretend that I won’t be missing him. Namaste. https://www.aaronpetty.com/

On Thursday morning, I went down to Centrelink Cranbourne office to apply for the Disability Support Pension. This has been a long term goal for me this year and it’s taken me a few months to be prepared for it. There were quite a few obstacles in my way and several people who advised against applying for it but I stuck to my guns, making sure that I filled out all the forms correctly and gathered enough medical evidence, pay slips, bank statements, and letters to even bother trying for it. https://www.humanservices.gov.au/individuals/services/centrelink/disability-support-pension/eligibility/how-we-assess-your-disability-or-condition

When it comes to the Centrelink system, I feel like there are harsh, unfair and unrealistic expectations placed on individuals who actually need their services and benefits. You have to jump through so many different hoops and meet often ridiculous eligibility criteria just to even be considered hence why I wasn’t exactly in a rush to get this done right away. Still I have legitimate diagnoses of depression, anxiety and high functioning autism so it’s not like cheating the system or doing it to get on A Current Affair. https://www.humanservices.gov.au/individuals/services/centrelink/disability-support-pension/eligibility

So, in a way, I am doing this to prove the naysayers wrong and make big decisions on my own. But more importantly, I need the DSP in order to supplement my income which I continue to struggle with week to week. Of course people could argue that I should just get another job or increase my hours at my current job but sadly it’s just not that simple and it’s not like I haven’t tried those avenues either. It won’t be an easy road but I’m prepared to tackle and push through any bumps I need to get through. https://www.humanservices.gov.au/individuals/services/centrelink/disability-support-pension/claiming/claiming-form

Walking into the Centrelink office, I was already feeling quite nervous. No amount of green decor was going to settle my nerves. This was a pretty big deal for me, months of preparation and I didn’t want to fuck it up. I decided to bring my Mum along just in case I did crumble to dust. The best way to deal with this level of anxiety is to throw humour at it and what better way than to think about Centrelink memes. I waited around 30-40 minutes or so and then my name was called up.

A lady named Emma served me, who was physically disabled herself and appeared to have dwarfism. Thankfully she was really nice and just asked me for all the required forms and supporting documentation for the claim. I don’t think I could have been more organised, though she was giving the photocopier a good workout with all the paper she had to make copies of. I asked her “How long do you expect it will take to get a decision?” She said 6-8 weeks which I expected but now that it’s done, I feel a huge sense of relief now.

On Thursday afternoon, I booked my first appointment to see an Occupational Therapist from Everyday Independence in about two weeks time. Last week at the Disability Expo, I only had a vague concept of what an Occupational Therapist actually does and still don’t really know for sure. But I figured I would give them a shot and considering I have NDIS funding, I don’t have much to lose over it. I mostly want to focus on improving my self confidence, social skills, making friends and at some point, living independently. Hopefully the OT can help me achieve some or all of those goals. https://www.everydayind.com.au/our-therapies/occupational-therapy/

On Thursday night, I had my final Sleep Intervention Workshop held at La Trobe University Psychology Clinic in Bundoora. Prior to arriving, I received my actiwatch in the mail via express post which I’ll have to wear again for another week. This will basically be comparing the results from the first period and see if there’s been any improvement with my sleep. I engaged in my usual Maccas run though time wasn’t playing nice today. I literally had to scoff my food and coffee down (That’s NOT being mindful...oops!).

Tonight’s session was run by Eric and Alexa with Associate Professor Amanda “Mandy” Richdale joining in. Alexa guided us through a short mindfulness exercise which involved using the five senses: touch, smell, hearing, taste and sight, using a raisin. Next, they attempted to tie all the concepts and techniques that we’ve learned together as well as discuss the importance of having values to focus on. Basically trying to work on living a fulfilling life can in turn help to improve your sleep. Some of my important values include: accepting myself, loving others, creativity, imagination, embracing the moment and seeing possibilities.

We also did some short term goal setting which is perfect considering we are getting close to the end of 2018. I wrote down: catching up with friends and family, going out for dinner or drinks, losing weight and improving my fitness levels, going for regular walks, attending art exhibitions and galleries, producing artwork again and getting back into study. It was a good exercise as I usually don’t do it often enough as my mind gets caught up in other commitments and responsibilities. https://www.latrobe.edu.au/otarc

The last part of the session involved creating a plan for the next 6 weeks to make sure that we’re prepared when insomnia comes back. It breaks everything down into sizable chunks week by week and details many of the techniques that we’ve learned about during these workshops such as mindfulness and defusion of thoughts, feelings and emotions, building a new sleep routine and practicing acceptance. Eric then gave us each a $25 gift card for our participation in the study. https://aspergersvic.org.au/Research-Requests

Reflecting back on the last few weeks, it’s good to know that this is the first research study I have fully committed myself to. I didn’t let the physical distance, lack of motivation, low mood and energy levels stop me from finishing it off because I do believe that improving my sleep is something worthwhile to invest time into. It’s been a problem for me for at least 2 or 3 years now and that’s significant as it affects my daily functioning and ability to enjoy life. So hopefully it’ll have some long lasting benefits for me. https://www.apa.org/topics/sleep/why.aspx

On Friday morning, I started doing my Christmas shopping at Cranbourne Park Shopping Centre and Westfield Fountain Gate! Trust me to forget that it happened to be BLACK FRIDAY today so of course getting a parking spot was painful as hell. Also it’s this time of the year when my anxiety levels tend to increase more readily especially when it comes to impatient shoppers and drivers. The rainy weather outside certainly wasn’t helping matters either. It didn’t take long before I was getting stalked in the carpark.  

IT’S THE MOST STRESSFUL (WONDERFUL) TIME OF THE YEAR! I briefly met up with Mum and my hairdresser Katrina, dropping into shops like Kmart, Target, Dusk and some $2 variety stores before I knew that I was ready to collapse with my shopping bags. I’m also learning that it’s okay to break things up, that I don’t necessarily have to do all my Christmas shopping in one hit. I put limits on myself for how much I’m able to handle and it’s a good thing because the last thing I want to do is burn myself out before Christmas Day.

On Friday night, I went to my HIIT Boxing class with Cinamon Guerin at CinFull Fitness. Boxing is both physically and mentally challenging. It takes a lot of effort, focus, concentration and practice to learn all the movements, techniques and combos. I’m fortunate that this group of clients is endlessly patient with me because I do worry that I’ll drop the ball at times. Anxiety is an unwelcome heckler trying hard to get me to give up and I’m able to shove it further and further into the background now.

Even though these small group training sessions are tough, it always feels good to finish them. My fitness level is irrelevant. To me, it’s more about what I can do rather than keeping up with the others. It’s a shift that’s taken me months to learn and remember. As a few people have told me, your only competition is yourself. Push ups are still one of the hardest exercises for me and yet I was smashing them out tonight at my own pace. It can only get better and easier over time.

On Saturday morning, I voted for Gary Maas - Labor for NWS at Strathaird Primary School. Generally speaking, I usually vote for the Australian Labor Party as most of my values align with their policies. Workers rights, public transport, infrastructure, education, mental health issues and autism are the big issues for me this State Election and Gary Maas ticks all of those boxes. https://www.viclabor.com.au/mp/maas-gary/

I’ve noticed that the Liberal candidate, Susan Serey, has had her face plastered on signs and flyers all around the Narre Warren South area. I guess their logic is that using dominant visual exposure will help secure more votes but to me, this screams of desperation. I haven’t seen her put many proposals forward for this election so I’m far from convinced that I should be voting for her. https://vic.liberal.org.au/SusanSerey

When it comes to Matthew Guy, he seems like a typical Liberal politician. All talk and all business. Coming off like a shady used car salesman with his “plan” to get Victoria back in control. Just like Scott Morrison, he’s just not very likable to me. https://www.matthewguy.com.au/

Daniel Andrews has done a lot of hard work for this state especially in the areas of workers rights, public transport and infrastructure. He has begun work on the Melbourne Metro and West Gate tunnels, removed many level-crossings on various train lines and upgraded several train stations, invested in free TAFE courses, building more schools and TAFE campuses, recruited more police officers, increased employment rate and job vacancies. http://www.cesarmelhem.com.au/andrews-labor-government-economic-achievements/

He is far from perfect but his achievements far outweigh his flaws in my opinion. Plus he has many great optimistic plans for the future if he ends up being re-elected. https://thenewdaily.com.au/news/state/vic/2018/11/20/victorian-election-policy-comparison-daniel-andrews-matthew-guy/

On Saturday night, I attended my work Christmas party held in the Common Room at Berwick Inn. When it comes to most social functions, my first instinct is to run for the hills and this potentially could have been the case tonight. I guess I wasn’t anticipating the huge turnout and therefore how much the space was creating bottlenecks and human traffic congestion. It’s moments like those where I literally need my own space to breathe.

However it was really lovely to see many team members tonight, both who I currently work with and a handful who have transferred stores, resigned or retired. Still being an introvert and autistic, social situations will always be challenging for me. Not knowing what to do, who to talk to, what to talk about but I generally gravitate towards people I feel comfortable around. There also becomes a point where I get easily bored and restless.

I decided to wear a black Christmas themed sweater with colourful Santas, bells, trees and snowflakes on it as well as a classic red Santa hat. It’s probably the one stereotypical trait that I don’t tick as an introverted person: putting myself out there with my outfit. Possibly because I want to make an impression and get people’s attention in a good way. I left shortly after the Visions & Values awards were announced as energetically I was spent and needed to rest. But I’m glad I made the effort to come out even for a short while.

“S-P-I-R-I-T, it's great to see. We got it, the spirit. Hey, hey, let's hear it. Said we couldn't go the distance, yeah. Look at us, we're going the distance. They just wanna be us. They don't wanna see us.” Mariah Carey featuring Ty Dolla $ign - The Distance (2018)

“It wasn't really much at all, just a little sensitivity, yeah that's all. Here in my heart is where you should be, ooh you are. Giving me life and it's everything. Thinkin' 'bout when we were seventeen. Living like Babs 'cause it's Evergreen. Here in my arms is where you should be.” Mariah Carey featuring Slick Rick & Blood Orange - Giving Me Life (2018)