#I’VE BECOME BOTH THE INSANE FRIEND AND A SEMI MOM FRIEND

[waytoobsessed]

People are receiving parental approval or whatever

[moonhoures]

[ nsfw warning! this timestamp contains oral (m receiving), sexual activity in a semi-public space, facial, implied glasses kink | mdni ]

this timestamp is a product of horniness brought on by this post from @puphee so thanks ceb! i will never know peace now that soobin w a glasses kink is on my mind 🙃💗

[2:09pm] Soobin was more than relieved when your professor had partnered the two of you up for a research project—mostly because you were the only person in the class that he felt comfortable with since you both knew each other from high school. And a little bit because you were one of the smartest people in his class. You were also easy-going and surprisingly forward, telling him to meet you at the library later to start working on the project. After an hour of working, you decided to take a break and just chill. You got to talking about a situationship you were in and how annoying the guy was being.

“Seriously,” you sighed, using your index finger to push your glasses higher on the bridge of your nose, “He’s always begging me to go down on him, and he hasn’t gone down on me once. It’s annoying.”

Soobin awkwardly chuckled, shocked by how willing you were to talk about sex with him when he didn’t really deem himself a close enough friend to do so, “He, uh, seems kind of selfish.“

“Right?” you snorted, “I mean, if you kept asking someone to suck you off, you would at least return the favor once, no?”

The tall boy shifted in his seat, crossing and uncrossing his ankles as he debated if he should say what he was thinking. Would you mock him? No, surely not; you seemed really nice, “I’ve actually never . . . done that before.”

“What? Give head?”

“No,” he shook his head, “Uh, no one’s ever sucked me off before.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah?” he scratched the side of his neck shyly, “Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Because you’re- . . . “ you were reluctant to admit that you had a bit of a crush on him, so you settled with, “you’re attractive. I guess I’m shocked you’ve never taken the opportunity.”

“I’ve never had someone offer,” he blurted out before he could stop himself, his cheeks growing with blush, “I’m sorry, that might be a little TMI. We should probably get back to the project.“

“No, don’t be sorry,” you rested your steady hand on top of his shaking one, “I’m the one who brought this up. But-“

You cut yourself short, suddenly realizing how dumb the question you wanted to ask was. You barely knew him; there was no way he would agree.

“‘But’ what?” he asked, looking at you expectantly.

“Nothing. I was going to ask something stupid,” you laughed softly, taking your hand off of his.

“My mom always told me there’s no such thing as a stupid question,” he said, trying to make you feel better. You supposed there was no harm in just asking. The worst he could do was reject you, right?

“Okay. I was going to ask if you’d like me to suck you off?”

Soobin’s eyes widened and he felt his chest become itchy. He was flushing, no doubt. Why did you make him so flustered like this?

“Uh- I- Like, now? Here?”

You laughed, “No, not in public. Well, I mean, we could go in the bathroom, if you really wanted to. I’m okay with that.”

Soobin was no angel by any means. He had had sex before, with a couple people. But he wasn’t exactly a reckless person, either. He’s only ever done anything sexual in the comfort of a locked bedroom. The idea of doing something like this in a public place seemed risky, but also very enticing? Intriguing? As much as his heart and brain told him not to, his groin overshadowed both. He wanted to do this.

“Okay.”

So that’s how he ended up leaning back against the bathroom sink of the one-stall bathroom. The door was locked, quelling his worries of being walked-in on. His jeans and briefs puddled around his ankles as you sat on your knees in front of him. He had taken off his jacket for you to kneel on for cushion and also to keep your skin from touching the dirty floor. He was insanely horny, but a gentleman no less.

His head rested back and his lips parted with heavy breaths as your mouth encapsulated him. The warmth of your mouth was driving him to the brink of insanity, and it had only been twenty seconds. You were getting annoyed with the fogginess clouding your glasses, so you pulled off of him to reach up and remove them.

“Wait-“ Soobin stopped you, his large hand grasping your wrist gently, “Can you- um, can you leave them on?”

“I can barely see though,” you pouted, and he hoped you didn’t notice the way his dick twitched. He couldn’t help it, though. You looked so fucking cute. Your hair was brushed away from your face and your glasses framed your eyes so adorably, making your doe eyes appear larger and sweeter than ever before. With your pout, he was almost sure he could bust right then and there, but he wanted the proper blowjob experience first.

“Please,” he whined, his fingertips nudging them back up on your nose just enough for you to see over them. With the way he looked down at you as if you were the most gorgeous thing ever . . . who were you to deny him?

“Okay,” you agreed in a whisper, taking his impressive length in your hand again as you sunk your mouth back around him. The only sounds in the bathroom were the light drip of the leaky faucet, the moans being stifled in Soobin’s throat, and the wet, lewd noises of you sucking him off. Your other hand fondled his balls, and he couldn’t hold back the whimper that left his lips. You smiled around him, and he had to screw his eyes shut after witnessing it. He needed to hold out a little bit longer.

“Fuck, you’re good at this,” he whispered, hands reaching behind him to grip the edge of the sink behind him. His knuckles were as white as the solid surface of the sink he was holding.

“I’m flattered,” you mumbled as you kissed his shaft while you stroked it. You looked over the rim of your glasses, through your lashes, as you kitten-licked his tip. The top of his thighs tensed and you swore his knees quivered for a second. He was so sensitive, “Are you gonna cum for me, Soobin? So quickly? I feel like we just started.”

He groaned, “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you kissed his head again, smiling when you noted the way he gulped as you did so, “It’s your first time, and you’re sensitive. It’s normal.”

“I wanted to last longer,” he insisted, feeling embarrassed. His thigh tensed again, more prominently, as your grip on him tightened and your strokes quickened.

“It’s okay. Just cum when you’re ready,” you spoke softly, swirling your tongue around his head and bobbing your mouth around him a few times before pulling off again, “Where do you wanna cum? In my mouth?”

“Can I cum on your face?” his voice cracked a bit, and his heart plummeted with humiliation, but yours did the same because you found it so cute.

“Sure, just try not to get it in my hair,” you said half-sternly, half-playfully. You started licking him again, alternating between using your tongue and pressing kisses on him while you pumped his cock. Eventually you felt him pulsing under your hand and the next thing you knew you saw his cum spitting at you. You closed your eyes just in time, but thankfully none of it reached them.

The white, silky liquid fell in ropes on your upper cheek and cupid’s bow, but mostly on the glass of your specs. You could barely see out of them when you opened your eyes. You blinked a few times and your hand let go of Soobin’s dick. His thighs were twitching in his post-orgasmic state, and his abdomen was heaving with his deep breaths. You noticed how hard his dick still was but what you didn’t know was that it was because the sight of his cum on your glasses was making him want to fuck the daylights out of you.

“How was that?” you asked him, reaching for the toilet paper to wipe his essence off your face, “You didn’t get it in my hair, did you?“

Soobin shook his head and answered before clearing his throat, “No, and it was great. Better than I imagined.”

Now you were the one getting flustered, “Cool. I’ve never been someone’s first anything. I’m glad I could satisfy.”

“Do you think we could maybe do this again some time?” he asked sheepishly while you stood up and took off your glasses. You handed him his jacket and gestured for him to move so you could wash your glasses off in the sink.

“Sure, but let’s worry about the project first, okay? Then we can fuck around all you want.”

[bokutosworld]

night time activities with hq boys

- the little things and shenanigans that they like to do with their s/o once the world has quieted down and people have gone to sleep zzz

wc: 1.9k words, fluff, sfw. 

characters: kageyama, hinata, yamaguchi, oikawa, iwaizumi, bokuto, kuroo, ushijima, semi, atsumu!

a/n: so this was intended to be a mini hc list but i got carried away in my feels and just wrote mini scenarios for my top ten hq boys. this is self-indulgent ngl mom i love them :’) 

--

💌 he always gets asked what's the secret to his clear and smooth skin. well, the answer is you. since the two of you started living together, you've gotten kageyama on board in your nightly skincare routine. he doesn't mind it even if tsukishima and hinata tease him endlessly, something about the 'king of the court' being soft for you. as soon as he comes out from the shower, he positions himself on the edge of the bed, letting you stand between his legs as you wipe his face with a toner, followed by a moisturizer. then you'll get a sheet of face mask and put it on carefully. 'thank you, y/n,' he'd always say with a smile before pulling you to his chest, laughter echoing around the room, as you both fall on the bed.

💌 you thought your relationship with hinata wouldn't survive the long distance. but despite the thousand miles separating the both of you and the difference in timezones, he made sure to always wish you sweet dreams and good night. sometimes, he would call you in the middle of practice or while he's sitting in the train during commute. if he's lucky to have a free day, he'd call you while he's also in bed and you guys would talk non-stop, exchanging stories, saying your i love yous and i miss yous. and when you're the first one to snooze, he'd chuckle in the background, taking a few screenshots of your adorable sleeping face before saying goodnight and ending the call with a smile.

💌 one of the things that made yamaguchi fall in love with you was your love for studio ghibli films. when the topic was brought up among your friend group, he instantly whipped his head to where you were and before he knew it, his feet were bringing him to you. you were already friends so you didn't mind him joining the conversation, he was mesmerized with how you passionately talked about your love for howl's moving castle or how you talked about the nostalgic soundtrack of from up on poppy hill. the rest was history and now, five years into the relationship, watching studio ghibli films every friday night has become a tradition to both of you. oftentimes, you would find yourselves cuddled on the bed, legs entangled and arms wrapped around one another. spirited away was playing on the laptop, the light illuminates the dark room as the both of you slowly drifted to sleep. it was in moments like these that you felt overwhelmed and satisfied with the security and comfort of being with him.

💌 oikawa was spontaneous - it kept you on your toes, always wondering what kind of surprise or gimmick he has prepared for you. the day before a big presentation, you were nervous and you made sure he knew it by texting him non-stop, sending him memes that expressed what you couldn't say in words. he didn't want to say you were overreacting in fear of getting on your bad side, but he has no doubt that after spending weeks in preparation that you can ace your presentation. still, he wanted to be of help to you and he knew just how to lift your mood up. it was 2:15 am when you were woken up by the incessant ringing of your phone. you pick it up, ready to shout at whoever was on the other side when you heard his laugh, 'grab your jacket, we're getting mcdonalds.' you didn't need to be told twice, almost running down the stairs so you can get your fix of your fave happy meal. after getting takeout, he drove you to a park and laid out a blanket. you sat and enjoyed your food in peace before he mentioned something about the stars shining bright tonight, turning to you with the biggest grin on his face, 'but i have the brightest star in the world right now by my side.'

💌 iwaizumi could never see what it was about video games that you loved so much. though after dating you since high school, he's been used to being ignored, put on voicemail, and being the second priority whenever you had a console in hand. but one late night, he got curious about the new title you were playing, super smash bros, and figured he could give it a try. you were surprised when he suddenly sat on the couch and scooted closer to make room for himself. he took your extra controller and asked to play for one round. little did he know that one game became two, which became three until the both of you couldn't keep track anymore as he kept losing and asking for a rematch. when you closed the game, the sun was slowly peeking over the clouds. you kissed him on the cheek before retreating to bed 'thanks for playing with me, iwa. that was one of the best games i've had.' he wouldn't admit it but he enjoyed it too, and he was thankful that he had the following day off or he'd be nursing an insane headache at work due to lack of sleep.

💌 people thrived off of the contagious energy that bokuto radiated, and you were no stranger to that. you were all too familiar with the intoxicating feeling that one can get by being around him. being with him, living with him, there were no dull days or quiet evenings. there would be nights that he'd still be high on the adrenaline that came from winning their game, that before sleeping, bokuto would drag you up your feet and get you singing your favorite songs. he didn't need a mic, his loud voice was enough and it reverberated around the room. you'd both be laughing, stumbling over the lyrics as you danced to a silent beat. jumping up and down, you're worried that the neighbors might report you to the guards in the apartment lobby. but none of it would soon matter as he'd suddenly collapse on the bed, pulling you with him. you fall to his chest and you hear the erratic beating of his heart. he lifts your chin up to look at him and he presses a chaste kiss on your lips, 'thank you for being with me all this time.'

💌 due to the nature of his job, you'd been used to kuroo returning home almost midnight due to doing overtime. often, he'd return to a dark apartment as you'd already be tucked in bed, drifting off to a deep sleep. but tonight was different. it was 11:45 pm and when kuroo turned the knob and swung the door open, he was surprised to see you sprawled out on the floor of the living room. a mess of polaroid photos, printed stickers, papers, and craft items were beside. you greeted him with a smile, he returned it with one of his own and question fell on his lips, 'what are you doing here?' he swears he melted on the spot when you said you were making a scrapbook of your moments and milestones together. something about the idea of you collating everything - from when you went on your first date, your first kiss, your first out-of-town trip - had the butterflies in his stomach go crazy. he loosens his tie and undos the first two buttons of his shirt before joining you on the floor, looking forward to staying up all night reminiscing your memories together.

💌 as soon as you and ushijima got home from date night, he'd head straight to the kitchen to brew your favorite cup of tea while you went ahead to wash up and prepare for bed. he'd bring two cups to the room, placing yours on vanity table and his on the nightstand. when you came out of the shower, you'd go straight to your vanity to do your evening skincare, noticing the tea he had prepared and taking a sip before putting on moisturizer. ushijima would take his place behind your back, a hand resting on your shoulder as the other leaned to get your brush. he'd gently comb your hair, dragging the brush slowly over your tresses. 'is this okay? it doesn't hurt?' you'd look at his reflection in the mirror, catching his eyes and you reassure him that it's fine. silence envelopes the two of you, but it's not the awkward kind. it's the one that puts you at ease, erasing your worries as he continues his action. when he finishes, he returns the brush on its spot, turning you around to give you a kiss, 'i love you.'

💌 semi notices something was wrong when you arrived home all quiet. usually, you'd run to where he was - often in the kitchen where he was cooking food or in his mini studio where he composed songs - but tonight, you made a beeline to your shared bedroom. he follows and observes as you throw your bag on the floor before falling face first on the bed. he swears he heard you take a big sigh and takes that as his cue to prepare a warm bath for you. semi makes sure that the water temperature is just how you like it, pouring your favorite bubble soap and lighting up your favorite scented candles all over the room. when he's done, he makes his way over to you, 'come on, sweetheart. i readied a bubble bath for you.' your ears perk up hearing his words and you get up, letting him take your hand as he brought you to the bathroom. he helps you take off your clothes and assists as you sit in the tub. and just when he was about to make his leave, you grab his hand, 'i'd be a lot more comforted if you were here with me.' knowing what you meant, he nods, ridding himself of his clothes before joining and hugging you from behind. 'you're okay now, i got you.'

💌 the past few days have been unkind to you and atsumu. with him being busy with extended training and you being occupied with an insane amount of workload that came with your promotion, you didn't really have enough time to spend awake at home. and atsumu misses you and your voice. it wasn't enough for him just to cuddle up to you when sleeping as he'd always feel bad whenever he had to leave in the morning. so despite knowing that you'd get mad for getting up before the sun has risen, he shook you lightly, 'hey, wake up, i want to show you something.' you opened your eyes slowly, looking for the source of disruption of your sleep, but when you realized it was atsumu, you simply groaned before raising your arms in request from him to carry you. he complies, carrying you bridal style to the car and he speeds off to a nearby park hill. when he alerts you that you have arrived at the destination, you rub sleep off your eyes and come out of the car just in time to see the sun rising over the horizon. the scene unveiling right in front of the both of you was so beautiful that you were left speechless. atsumu hugs you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder and exhales, 'i missed you so much. let's take our time here, okay?' eventually, the two of you reported sick for work/practice but it was worth it.

[jess-rewatches-prodigalson]

Take Your Father to Work Day (S2, E4)

As many people have said: This is one of the STRONGEST Prodigal Son episodes to date. It was incredible. My time-stamped thoughts for this episode are below. 

I reference Malcolm’s mental health and sexual violence in this one. So if that’s going to be a trigger for you, don’t keep reading.

SPOILERS AHEAD:

0:16 - OMG. Destiny’s Child. Whoever is in charge of the soundtrack for this show needs a raise. Or an award. It’s SOO GOOD.

0:18 - How great is this montage of Martin’s prison life too? I mean the insane mundanity of it combined with “Survivor” and Michael Sheen’s incredible acting is some perfect mix between hilarious, captivating, and just brilliant. 

1:06 - I feel so bad for Mr.David. He has to deal with Martin’s theatrics every day. Poor guy looks done in this episode.

1:35 - CAN HECTOR BECOME A BIGGER CHARACTER?! PLEASE. He’s hilarious and I love him. “Bro. You got your ass jumped at Sunday School.”

2:09 - Wait. What? Jerry’s getting released?!? I mean, I understand that he’s no longer in need of psychiatric care......but he still killed someone. Shouldn’t he just be getting transferred to a different prison?

2:25 - Does Jerry have a death wish?!?! He’s talking about being released in a room full of jealous murderers. Everyone looks sooooo pissed at Jerry. 

2:54 - Martin is such a liar. However - Michael Sheen’s performance is astoundingly good. Like he shines brighter than usual in this episode. 

 3:17 - Poor Malcolm. “What’s going on?” Poor boy looks terrified. 

3:23 - I love everything about this scene. I love how freaked out Malcolm is. I love you extra Jessica is. BUT HANS. Holy shit. I want Hans in every episode. He’s crazy in a good way and such a beautiful comedic relief. 

3:30 - OMG.  “Skinny milennial” might be the best thing anyone has ever called Malcolm. Someone please tell JT and Dani - hell, even Gil. They would tease him forever and I want to see it. 

3:45 - 1) Malcolm is a terrible liar. 2) Jessica knows he’s lying. 3) This story about the wine is interesting. I wonder when and how Malcolm first told Jessica the story. Was it the same night? AND HOW DID ENDICOTT’S BODY END UP IN ESTONIA?!? I WANT MORE INFORMATION ABOUT THAT NIGHT. 

3:54 - “Ainsley and I came back from the hospital after Gil’s stabbing.”....we never saw Ainsley at the hospital. Was she there and left before Malcolm got there? Or is this a plot hole I need to ignore?

4:05 - The way that the flashbacks of Endicott’s murder is spliced into this scene with Malcolm’s cover story is so perfectly executed. It’s so captivating and so so well done.

4:14 - Malcolm’s eyes look quite manic during the retelling of this story. Poor guy is desperate to have everyone believe the story. Poor guy probably wants to convince himself that the story is true. 

4:16 - Wait. What? Ainsley has always been clumsy? .....interesting. I’ve seen no evidence of it but I’ll believe it for the sake of the plot. 

4:23 - “At least one of you has a soul.” Holy shit.  hahaha Hans is brutal. I love him so much. I also love how this line makes me, as a viewer, think “does that mean the writers want me to think that Ainsley doesn’t have a soul?” ...or more likely that she doesn’t feel emotion (which can be interpreted as a lack of a soul). That she’s a psychopath like Martin?

4:27 - OMG. Jessica loves Hans. He speaks to her dramatic rich woman soul. So entertaining. 

4:30 - Poor. Malcolm. This boy is always in some sort of emotional turmoil. For once I wish he was happy (but also I love the emotional whump so if that could continue that would be great). 

4:44 - “It’s so much more than that.” *chef’s kiss* comedic genius.  I would watch a whole episode of Mr.David making fun of Martin. But can we all just take a minute to appreciate that Martin doesn’t seem bothered at all that Mr.David is basically verbally telling him that he sucks? It’s almost like Martin thinks they’re friends?

4:50 - Martin is strangely chill talking to Mr.David in this scene. It’s a little off-putting. He almost seems normal. He’s not putting on his usual theatrics or ranting about doctor stuff. It makes you wonder how many different sides of Martin that Mr.David has witnessed. 

5:01 - “Oh no. Not Jerry.” LMAO. HOLY SHIT. Michael Sheen needs an Emmy. His delivery of that line might be the funniest thing this show has ever given us. hahahahaha

5:29 - Damn. This is not Gil’s month. First Jessica dumps him. Then he has to deal with Martin Whitly in the flesh. That plus the on-going drama of worrying about Malcolm’s mental health and the stress of reintegrating into work after a STAB WOUND.

5:31 - Gil’s face. hahahahaha he’s like, “Kill me. This can’t be happening. I hate everything. I wish the ground would open up and swallow me whole.”

5:37 - “Yeah. Why’d you do it?” GIL. OMG. I’m so proud of Gil for dissing Martin to his face. BUT ALSO I worry that that’s going to give Martin more of a reason to hate Gil. I’m genuinely scared that the writers have Martin escaping as the pre-finale episode and Martin trying to kill Gil as the finale. Maybe Gil shows up trying to save Malcolm, AInsley, and Jessica (whom Martin is trying to abduct or hurt or something) idk I just feel like it’s going to be a likely subplot somewhere. I don’t want an attempt on Gil’s life to become a season finale tradition. 

5:56 - Ew. “Gilly” That is a terrible nickname. I think I threw up a little. 

6:00 - Damn. I love this scene. I could watch Martin and Gil pretending to be civil to each other for years. So entertaining. 

6:29 - hahahahaha OMG. Gil’s reaction to Martin saying, “Thank you” PLUS Edrisa’s sudden excitement at realizing she’s 10 ft away from Malcolm’s Dad - a medical legend, is magical.

6:35 - Not gonna lie. When Edrisa said, “Ok. I’m gonna play it cool.” I had to pause my TV and walk away to calm down. I was experiencing a mixture of second hand embarrassment for Edrisa’s inevitable behaviour, excitement for what is to come, and fear that Martin would be a jerk to our precious Edrisa. 

6:44 - Edrisa and Martin interacting was everything I’d hoped. It was strange, funny, sweet, and disturbing at the same time. The sweet, eccentric girl who attends cuddle parties is getting buddy-buddy with a literal serial killer. Hilarious. Even better is Gil’s background reactions as he desperately tries to keep Edrisa away from the psychopath. hahaha <3 

7:12 - Gil is currently living in a nightmare. hahahahaha 

7:47 - I love this. I love how Malcolm and Ainsley interact. Malcolm is such a good big brother. IDK something about these two adult siblings chilling on a couch and warning each other about Mom’s current rampage reminds me of myself and my younger brother. <3 Warms my cold dead heart. <3 PLUS has anyone else noticed that (as long as Ainsley isn’t hounding Malcolm about a story or airing out his mental health diagnoses like the bs from Q&A) Malcolm is extremely calm around Ainsley. Like maybe the calmest we’ve ever seen him?

8:20 - “Oh Ainsley, that’s a horrible idea.” This is adorable. Malcolm is totally acting like Ainsley’s surrogate dad. He’s trying so hard to protect her. <3 

8:42 - There’s something about the way that Malcolm says, “Hey Gil” that makes my heart swell. Idk why. I just their father/son relationship. So much. And it makes me so happy to see Malcolm having semi-normal interactions with people in general. 

8:48 - This. Is. The. Funniest. Episode. Of. Prodigal. Son. To. Date. Holy shit. The comical dread on Malcolm’s face. Martin’s glee on the phone. Gil’s general “done with life” body language. Ainsley’s utter joy at her luck. MALCOLM DRAINING THE ALKA-SELTZER. Ainsley saying “chug chug”. So perfect. 

9:27 - Is it just me or has Jessica been showing way more concern for her children’s well-being this season? At first I thought it was because she was so happy with Gil....but that’s not a thing anymore (because Jessica is a MORON - seriously if this show gets cancelled before Gil and Jessica are living happily ever after I will riot) so now Idk. 

10:02 - EDRISA WHY DID YOU NOT TELL GIL AND MALCOLM THAT THE SURGEON WAS ON THE PHONE?!? For a hot second, poor Malcolm looks like he thinks he’s hallucinating. 

10:40 - Gil hanging up on Martin and then telling Edrisa that she needs to make new friends is everything. It’s vicious. Gil looks absolutely furious in this scene and I love it. 

11:07 - Yo. Edrisa’s got some baggage. hahaha Malcolm looks soooo uncomfortable with her outburst.

11:18 - I would pay good money to watch Martin and Gil have a pissing match in front of Malcolm every episode. It’s amazing. They’re constantly trying to one-up each other. The tension is palatable. And someone Malcolm is the only one acting like a mature, working adult. Malcolm. My mentally unstable, skinny millennial. 

11:34 - OH SHIT. Martin did not just bring Jessica into this. Oh SNAP. Does Martin know that Jessica dumped Gil?!? 

11:56 - “I’m going to need a little more than that.” Damn. Malcolm looks pissed here. Pretty sure he hates that Martin just brought up Gil/Jessica. Malcolm’s bio-dad and real dad are fighting and it’s very clear that Malcolm is on Gil’s side.

12:17 - The look that Gil and Malcolm share here is perfect. I love it so much. You can see how annoyed they both are, how much they hate that they need Martin on this case, how much neither of them want Martin’s help. <3 

12:23 - SOMEONE GIVE GIL A MEDAL. This man just grit his teeth, smiled, and let MARTIN WHITLY - the man who tried to KILL HIM work on his case. Why? Because Malcolm silently asked him to. Because Gil loves Malcolm and knows that it’s better for Martin to work with them officially than for Malcolm to work with Martin in secret. At least this way he can look out for Malcolm. 

12:42 - “It’s taken Dr. Marsh years...” soooo was Dr. Marsh the name of the Asian doctor leading group therapy last season? Is this just a new actor, same character scenario? OR am I supposed to forget that Asian doctor existed last season? 

13:04 - I can’t tell if Gil hates this whole “father-son in group therapy idea”. He looks kind of like he hates it (although he is looking at Martin in the shot). I’m inclined to think that Gil is worried. He doesn’t like how nice Martin is acting toward Malcolm. He doesn’t want Malcolm to get hurt again. BUT I also think there’s probably a part of Gil that thinks group therapy might be beneficial for Malcolm’s mental health? I mean it was only ever going to be terrible or amazing. Nothing in between. 

13:12 - “They hate you don’t they?” GIL BRINGING THE FIRE. hahahaha angry Gil is really funny.

13:43 - OH HELL YES. More Hector. <3

13:46 - hahaha YES. Hector this is Malcolm - the son. You know, the one you had to role-play? hahaha I feel like Hector is a really cool dude (aside from the murder). 

13:53 - Damn. Hector pays attention in group. He has a lot of info about Malcolm. I would’ve thought the other inmates would just tune Martin out when he starts his monologues. 

13:59 - “He’s got a thing with hands?” hahahaha OMG. How did I never connect the hand thing. DOES Malcolm have a thing with hands? ....I kind of want that to be cannon?

14:00 - “You’re crazier than me.”  Ouch. That must’ve hurt. Think about it - Malcolm is ridden with guilt about Endicott. He’s haunted by what he experienced as a kid and by what his father is. Malcolm believes he’s broken beyond repair. On some level Malcolm thinks he’s crazy. Now a literal killer just told him he’s crazy. That just affirms what Malcolm already believes about himself. :( PLUS right after Hector tells Malcolm that he’s crazy - the camera pans to Martin. MARTIN looks scared. Martin is losing control of the situation and he doesn’t like it. Martin knows on some level that he ruined Malcolm’s mental health. He almost looks a little guilty?

14:31 - FINALLY. We have a cannon occurrence of someone calling Malcolm “Mal” (or “Malc” if you’re going by HULU’s subtitles?). I hope the writers start having people call Malcolm by Mal/Malc more often. 

14:35 - I can’t ignore it anymore.  DID HECTOR HAVE THAT SCAR ON HIS FACE LAST SEASON?!? I DON’T REMEMBER IT. 

14:38 - YES YES. Malcolm looks angry. I LOVE IT. Scream at him Malcolm! Give him hell!

15:03 - Yikes. Malcolm sounds like he’s about to cry here. :( My heart breaks for him. .....I wonder if this is the first time Martin has ever heard how much pain he caused Malcolm straight from Malcolm? Martin looks hella uncomfortable here. 

15:25 - The inmates (literal murderers) empathizing with Malcolm is twisted, beautiful, and haunting. These guys understand how much it sucks to hang out with Martin. These guys can see the real pain in Malcolm’s expression. They know he isn’t lying. Part of me honestly wonders if one of them is going to try and hurt Martin for Malcolm. They looked pissed enough by the end of the conversation that I kind of believe they might. 

16:00 - Malcolm is not acting here. For once he’s not projecting his problems onto potential suspects. He’s just venting to suspects. No pretence. I love it. BUT 100% of me wants to know where Gil is during this session. Is Gil listening? Is the session being recorded for evidence? There’s no way Gil (or Dani) wouldn’t confront Malcolm about this. Even if they just asked him if he’s okay. 

16:10 - hahahaha look at Doctor Marsh. He’s like “ooookkkkkaaaayyyy. I’m a psychiatrist in a psychiatric facility for people who have committed violent crimes. BUT THIS IS THE NUTTIEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN.”

16:12 - Look at the way Martin narrows his eyes. He’s trying to figure out if Malcolm is acting. He’s finally realizing that Malcolm truly hates what Martin subjected him to as a child. I honestly think this interaction will cause Martin to shift his “become a murderer like me” agenda from Malcolm to Ainsley. He’s finally seen the depth of Malcolm’s hatred and pain and knows deep down that Malcolm will never turn into a serial killer. But there’s still hope for Ainsley. That’s not to say that Martin won’t stop gaslighting Malcolm - he totally will.

17:10 - Martin has been at Claremont for 20 YEARS. How is it that he didn’t know a gold card existed?!?

17:21 - I honestly thought Marsh was going to get shanked. For the gold card. No other reason. 

18:07 - It’s not supposed to be funny but Burt freaking out and punching Marsh is HYSTERICAL. hahahahaha

18:10 - That guard who pushed Malcolm out of the room and into a safe area? He’s in my good books. Every time I watch him push Malcolm to safety I want to give him a hug. Just for doing his job. What the hell is wrong with me?!?

18:18 - UGH. I hate that creepy, satisfied look that Martin gives Malcolm. It’s the same look he gave baby Malcolm in the pilot. It’s the “we’re the same” look and it clearly bothers Malcolm. :( 

18:26 - Oh look. 18 minutes into the episode and we finally have a Dani appearance!! annnnnnd no mention of JT. I mean, I get it. He’s on paternity leave. I’m happy for him. BUT TWO EPISODES WITHOUT A JT APPEARANCE IS TORTURE. At least give me a throw away line about how happy JT is or about the baby!?? Honestly - it’s my biggest gripe with this episode. 

18:56 - soooo either Dr. Marsh is a terrible psychiatrist OR you can’t “cure” murderers. 

19:08 - The NYPD knows that Martin cured Jerry?!? HOW? Did Mr. David get Martin to admit to shocking him? Did Mr. David tell the police?!? I don’t remember Martin telling Malcolm. I specifically remember Malcolm saying, “I don’t want to know”

20:02 - Damn. I want Ainsley to go dark so badly. I want to see how badly it would destroy Malcolm and Jessica. I am evil. 

20:52 - Malcolm’s burgundy jacket is gorgeous. That is all.

21:10 - Malcolm knows that Martin wants to escape. This is good. I love this. 

21:55 - THERE’S A WOMENS WARD?!? REVOLUTIONARY INFORMATION. I THOUGHT THEY HAD A SEPARATE HOSPITAL. 

22:00 - Oh wow. Finally - a perk to gender inequality. 

22:52 - This Brightwell scene is so cute. I love watching Malcolm be excited about solving the crime. I love watching Dani gently tease him about how weird he is. I love watching them subtly flirt. Is Malcolm ready for another relationship - hell no. Do I think Dani has forgiven him - not totally. If they got together now it would end badly. But I do want them to be endgame. 

23:11 - Andre is really suspicious throughout this whole scene. I’m convinced that if Dani and Malcolm weren’t too busy flirting Andre would’ve become a suspect really fast. 

23:15 - Why do people get released from psychiatric prisons?!? This is a genuine question. I would’ve thought that everyone in Claremont has committed some seriously heinous crimes and only a very small portion of them are actually sick. The rest of them just pleaded insanity and had good lawyers. But even if they are/were sick. I don’t think the types of mental illnesses that drive people to murder and/or rape is something that can be cured.  Sooo why are they getting released? I guess I just wonder because there’s this guy that’s been in my local news on and off for like 10+ years. He’s molested/raped many young women between the ages of about 16-25. He’s been arrested and released multiple times. He keeps getting released to different major cities in my province (usually a city with a big University) and reoffends within 6 months of being released. Most recently he was arrested last month after being released in October 2020. Clearly he’s going to keep reoffending - so why does he keep getting released? I guess I just don’t understand what the criteria are that allow an inmate who has committed that sort of crime to be released. Here’s a link to one of the more recent news stories if you’re interested: https://vancouverisland.ctvnews.ca/police-warn-of-high-risk-sex-offender-moving-to-victoria-1.5149264

23:23 - hahaha Andre is like, “Yo. This dude is freaky.”

24:15 - Look at how proud Malcolm is of his whole “lobster = murderer” profile. <3 So freaking precious. <3 and Dani looks so amused with him.  <3

24:37 - Sooooo Mr. David isn’t listening to this conversation? He left the room?

24:40 - Jessica going to Martin for parenting help is terrifying. This is a woman in crisis. 

25:20 - But Jessica was right to be paranoid in 97′. She wasn’t being cheated on romantically but her husband was murdering people. 

25:24 - Martin is so selling his kids out here. He knows it. He doesn’t care. He’s having too much fun torturing Jessica. He’s rejoicing at the fact that he gets to play the “I turned the kids to the dark side” card. 

26:40 - Poor Jessica. She looks suspicious and scared. Scared that she raised a killer even though she tried desperately to prevent that very behaviour. 

26:56 - Damn. Martin is having a really good day. First he gets to annoy Gil Arroyo in the flesh. Then Edrisa talks medical with him. Then he gets to work with Malcolm. THEN his ex-wife calls him and he gets to toy with her mind. THEN his daughter, who has literally murdered someone comes to visit him. He is a proud Dad right here and he’s having an amazing day. 

28:00 - Rhonda is terrifying. This girl has perfected the “I’m sweet and unthreatening” while lying and manipulating people. I swear she’s a teenage Queen B personality with a side of violence. 

28:30 - I love how protective Malcolm is of Ainsley. Look how positively livid he is that Marin is talking to her. Malcolm is terrified that Martin is going to purposefully and successfully turn Ainsley into a serial killer. Malcolm doesn’t want to lose his sister. He doesn’t want Jessica to lose her ‘stable’ child.

29:09 - This scares me. This is the kind of Ainsley behaviour from last season that made me believe she is the Whitly child most like Martin. Her ruthlessness and lack of a conscience when it comes to looking for a news story is extremely upsetting. 

30:11 - What the hell happened to Tevin? AND WATKINS?!? We got no closure on those guys. Are they dead? In prison? Is Tevin still in Claremont? Were they transferred to facilities outside of New York State?

30:28 - Malcolm yelling at Martin is perfect. *chef’s kiss* Finally this boy is being honest with his father and he isn’t holding back. 

30:40 - Michael Sheen is an incredible actor. This is an Emmy worthy scene. By Sheen AND Payne.

30:48 - I love how you can see Mr. David just chilling. Sitting outside the door and staring across the hall during this scene. It’s just....can’t he hear the screaming?!? Is he just like, “I can’t take anymore of this today. Not my circus and not my monkeys.”

30:55 - Soooooo this is Martin showing his true colours. There’s definitely a part of Martin that hates Malcolm. I honestly wonder if that part of Martin actively tries/tried to emotionally torture Malcolm now and throughout his childhood. 

31:00 - “And your mother. And you ruined HeR!!!”....does this mean Martin was trying to make Ainsley a serial killer? Maybe after the camping trip when he realized Malcolm was too “weak” to kill anyone? Is this Martin saying that Ainsley is ruined because she didn’t become a serial killer? Or that Ainsley is ruined because she killed Endicott?

31:05 - “But that’s not me.” hahaha OMG. Michael Sheen just flipped between two personalities like nobody’s business. Respect.

31:08 - Martin’s outburst hurt Malcolm. Badly. You can see it all over his face. Even now, when Malcolm is being strong and showing some backbone to Martin, Martin can wound Malcolm with a single phrase. :( 

31:41 - soooo where has Gil been for the past 10 minutes of this episode?

32:02 - Sooooo did Andre kill Jerry for Rhonda? Or did he just know about the murder and keep quiet for Rhonda? Or is his oblivious to the fact that Rhonda killed Jerry? I’m honestly confused here. 

32:20 - Holy shit. Rhonda is crazy. Andre is dead now. Right?

32:48 - Wait. Why did Andre have a gold card? Mr. David only has red. What kind of qualifications does a guard need to get a gold card vs blue, green, or red?!?!

32:55 - Claremont isn’t a punishment for Martin. Solitary is. Martin should live in solitary. He deserves to suffer for his crimes (and the ongoing torture of his son). 

33:05 - How messed up is it that Mr. David’s job is to protect a serial killer? I don’t think I’m brave enough to do something like that. I also don’t know if I could do that for moral reasons. 

33:14 - Damn. That elevator looks like it hasn’t been cleaned since it was installed. It’s sooo much nastier than the hallway outside of the elevator. 

33:50 - Sooo does this mean Martin is eventually going to try and murder someone down here?

33:54 - HE CALLED FOR BACKUP <3 <3 <3 OUR BOY IS GROWING UP AND I’M SO PROUD. <3 

35:40 - FINALLY SOME MALCOLM WHUMP. <3 THIS SEASON HAS BEEN LACKING IT. 

36:00 - This is really interesting to me. I honestly wonder if Martin has some sort of split personality disorder (personality #1: murderous, selfish, psychopath; personality #2: loving, concerned father and lawful doctor). You can see how desperately he wants to escape. But also how much he loves his son. I honestly thought he was going to leave Malcolm to die. 

36:06 - Ugh. Look at his whumped face. <3 <3 <3 ....one thing that I couldn’t stop thinking during all the tazing (which was amazing FYI, I’m not complaining) is this: in QxA (1x07) Mr. David says that he only has a single shot tazer. Why did Andre have a multi-shot tazer? Is this a gold card vs red card thing?

36:40 - WHY THE EFF DOES BACKUP NOT INCLUDE GIL?!?! I KNOW HE’S STILL IN THE BUILDING. 

37:03 - MARTIN, IF YOU TOUCH A HAIR ON DANI’S HEAD I WILL PERSONALLY HUNT YOU DOWN AND KILL YOU MYSELF. He honestly looks like he wants to murder her. 

37:50 - Martin’s speech is not going to help Malcolm’s mental state. At all. 

38:31 - No. No. No. Martin you do NOT get to talk to Dani on a first name basis. Look at how much Dani hates it. 

38:35 - I love how soft Malcolm looks as Martin lifts him up. Look at how Malcolm gently leans into the touch. It breaks my heart. After 20 years Malcolm is still comforted by physical contact with his father. :( 

38:37 - “Put your hands on me again Dr. Whitly, and I’ll blow your head off.” OH HELL YES. Dani is my hero. Iconic. Also - anyone else notice that Dani is chewing gum in this scene (I don’t think she’s chewed gum on camera since the pilot?) it makes her look like so much more of a badass in this scene. 

38:55 - Oh look. The rest of the backup finally showed up. Where were these assholes 5 minutes ago when DANI WAS ALONE? AND WHERE IS GIL?!?!

39:00 - Malcolm thanking Dani is so so precious. And the fact that he’s clearly struggling to breathe and stay conscious is giving me life. ALSO Dani saying, “YOU’re welcome.”?!? *chef’s kiss* :) :) <3

39:30 - So Malcolm definitely knows that Martin almost left him to die so that Martin could escape. 

39:33 - ......Ainsley is currently living with Jessica. Why is Ainsley not at the family dinner? We literally see her in the house in like 30 seconds. 

39:35 - Malcolm in a polo shirt. Malcolm in a polo shirt. Why is it so attractive?!? He looks like a baby cinnamon roll? <3 

39:51 - WHO THE EFF LET AINSLEY INTO THE MURDER BASEMENT?!? WHY AM I EXPECTED TO BELIEVE THAT JESSICA DIDN’T RE-SEAL IT AFTER WATKINS?!?!

40:15 - Jessica desperately tearing apart the living room is heartbreaking. :(

40:29 - Question: Did Jessica send her staff home before she tore apart the living room? Because I can just imagine two of them staring into the living room from the hall like, “She’s finally snapped. Should we call someone?”

41:00 - Jessica is the queen of drama. HOLY SHIT. This reveal was so extra and so perfect. 

41:13 - “I killed him.” “You’re lying.” I love this interaction between Jessica and Malcolm. Malcolm has spent his whole life trying to convince people that he’s not a murderer. To protect Ainsley, his baby sister, he will say the words “I killed him”. Even though that is literally killing a part of Malcolm. Jessica knows it. I love that Jessica can see that Malcolm is lying. She’s not trying to convince herself that he’s innocent. She literally just accused him of murder. She’s scared. Because Malcolm just admitted to killing someone - his biggest fear - and it was a lie. 

41:35 - Watching Bellamy Young’s facial expression as Jessica realizes that Ainsley killed Endicott is a thing of beauty. This woman needs an Emmy too. HELL, CAN WE GIVE THIS WHOLE EPISODE AN EMMY?!?! 

42:00 - Poor Jessica. The guilt she must feel. She’s always thought that Malcolm was the one at risk of being a murderer. He’s a boy (they’re statistically more prone to violence than girls), he was older than Ainsley, he remembers terrible things, Malcolm had continued exposure to Martin throughout his childhood (Ainsley didn’t - I think?). But the child she neglected, the child she thought was safe, the child she thought remained free of Martin’s evil killed someone. It’s a plot-twist that just ripped Jessica’s heart into a million pieces. 

42:30 - Yep. I promise you Malcolm has been psychoanalyzing Ainsley’s past behaviours since the moment she killed Endicott. He’s found traits common to serial killers and he’s terrified that she’ll become one if she remembers what it felt like to kill Endicott. He’s probably kicking himself for not noticing sooner. He’s probably questioning his ability as a profiler and as a big brother. AND the fact that MALCOLM has to protect Jessica AND Ainsley is heartbreaking. It’s way too big a burden. No wonder Malcolm’s mental health is on a downward spiral. 

42:33 - This is the moment Jessica begins grieving for Ainsley. The fear, disbelief, and horror on her face. It’s torture that I can only describe as someone telling a mother that her daughter is dead. Because Ainsley is dead. The person Jessica believed Ainsley was - that little girl is dead. Because Jess just found out the truth. 

42:55 - Jessica is now terrified of her own daughter. That is maybe the most upsetting thing this show has given us. 

43:00 - I saw an interesting theory about how Ainsley is regressing back to her childhood (crawling into bed with Mom, moving back in with Mom) and I must say - that would be a really interesting way for this story to go. Ainsley regressing to a child-like state as she is convicted of murder. As a result she ends up in the women’s ward of Claremont because she can plead insanity. 

This episode was amazing. Seriously, one of the best Prodigal Son episodes to date. Definitely the best of season 2 so far. If you’ve read this far - thanks for hanging out. 

[d0ntw0rrybehappy]

i’m going insane lol

so i feel like the next step in working hard is to not even perceive the work i’m doing as tiring. (rereading this it’s making me lol.) it seems weird that i find a part time job at a restaurant this exhausting? and like i can’t pretend that i’m not tired, but i have to somehow take better care of myself and set the conditions to not be tired from it.

i’ve been thinking about baudrillard/barthes a lot still -- pleasantly surprised that their theories are interesting to apply to any- and everything. for example, they both go into how every statement can also be read as its opposite or negation. so, to quote baudrillard, saying “i am not afraid of communism” also implies that communism is something you should be afraid of.

i’ve been using this as a kind of paranoid way to gain insight into why people tell me that i am “strong” because i don’t really know what that means. (other things i am told i am often: sweet, intense). it’s like what they’re saying is, there’s some kind of context, a milieu of weak people i’m being compared to. or like they want to reassure me that i am strong, because i actually come across as how i feel: like a particularly lost, unstable, emotional, sensitive, and lonely person.

i can’t with restaurant work anymore. it. SUCKS. i want to fucking get out, i am like a rat scrabbling at the walls of a glass aquarium. all novelty has worn off, all misguided overtures of honest work or “people skills.” and i’m still stuck here, still holding my breath in the deep end until i can find the eject button. i am tired, my body aches. my body aches!!

i want to just grind my way out (here we are with barthes again -- well if you truly wanted to do that you’d just shut the fuck up and do it instead of writing about it), but here i am, eating another round of chocolate (i don’t smoke, i don’t have sex, i truly just eat), constantly fucking hungry. then like a bull mowing into a red flag i realize i have been grinding...in a completely useless direction. it is like my passion for learning about things gets scattered every which way and i just can’t start, every path is equally exciting and awful and the injunction to “choose” is not “clicking” in my “head.” it’s like my mind cracked open at some point in my teenage years (when i started smoking weed, when my child universe was decisively fractured by a friend) and now the crack is snowing fireworks and glitter and i shift in and out of unreality. 

reality is almost too painful to bear. nobody’s happy: you can find contentment by accepting your current lot, but “happiness" is really just contrast or relief from pain. it comes in and out. most people are too lazy or small-minded or too busy complaining to feel content, or their lives are just too twiggy, got too long in the wrong direction or are just too fucking hard. i guess i still am happy, and still love life, in a sort of ferocious and bloody and hungry way. 

love is bleak, though. i barely even know how to define it anymore. (culture defines a love which we yearn for; we experience “love” insofar as our real love fleetingly resembles this model, only to come up short -- baudrillard). re: love, to use my mom’s favorite school-of-hard-knocks memory device for the laws of thermodynamics -- a subject she took? -- you can’t win, you can’t break even, you can’t get outta the game (and death and taxes). you are going to get royally FUCKED by love just like everybody else, and you are STILL gonna play, you beautiful mortal fool. like the tarot cards lauren dealt me, putting away the three cards she’d used to describe my near future and then flipping through the entire deck, picture side up, without realizing that i was quietly watching it describe my whole entire life -- clinging at the edge of my seat to see some eventual combination that spelled good, strong, lasting love and seeing only struggle, happiness, struggle, pain, struggle, and finally ending, at my death, in a small statue made of gold. 

see also, other realities i hate to swallow: nearly all interpersonal problems are insurmountable and better left undealt with, and work basically sucks unless you are very lucky and very smart. 

work. let’s go back to that. i used to think my work would be respected off its merit; now i see the merit in literally fucking my way up. i wonder if i should even be an artist at all. artists are kinda like showponies or whores; they’re not actually important. the more honest and wonderful they are, the less important they probably are, like schoolteachers. they have an impact on an individual level. but on a societal level, you have no control as an artist. you just get played by bigger fish. better to find a way to have your hands on the gears; that way you have a shot at making a higher-order change to society. but alas, the (capitalist) system is totally out of everyone’s hands and will keep running as usual no matter what you do, still savage in equal amounts, i think. doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try. but at this point i’d give a toe or finger to work for someplace like youtube. at least it’s reached critical mass where i could do something cool and make a difference with emerging media. 

that or i pander to whatever blathering brain-melting slop, drivel, they’re putting on tv for kids and adults. or manage to convince a smaller nonprofit that i am “good at talking to people from diverse socioeconomic backgrounds,” whatever the hell that fucking means. or maybe, ugh god, i’ll work for an ad agency? or do digital strategy? and um, i could say some shit about how capitalism is darwinism and money is a form of social control that works so well because it’s out of the hands of any individual person, and i should probably just stick with art and believe in it, and maybe like, apply for grants. but i want a job, a full-time job. i want stability and enough money that i don't feel guilty buying new underwear and i don't want to hustle to keep the tap running month-to-month and i want to spend the majority of my time doing something i find fulfilling. and soon enough i'll get that, and all my dreams will come true: i’m going to get married and become a fat mom taking my kids to piano practice and saying “the meeting went on forever today,” and i’ll have a husband who never cleans the house enough, and then we’ll get divorced and he’ll find someone 20 years younger and i’ll live out the rest of my years semi-happily alone and i don’t know how i will ever have time to make art again. or if i do i just hope it’s not hobby-like, second-rate.

i wish i could have (feel) the bare-faced honesty and love of sha’carri richardson hugging her grandmother after she worked her ass off for a race. instead everything is this weird simulation where i never feel like i love anybody enough or like i’m working hard enough. i can’t speak honestly except when i am writing about myself (strong, sweet, intense, narcissistic) or things i have noticed, as directed to my own imaginary friend. when i try to communicate irl (or, worst of all, “be real”) it’s all so overthought, overwrought, self-conscious. the only person who knows my real private self is the girl winking at me on my black lives matter poster. i hope she doesn’t mind being here in my room. ducky, the stuffed animal brandon gave me, was also supportive but i put him away because it seemed bad to tell future guys that my stuffed animal is “the child of divorce.” and now /you guys/ know me a little bit, because i took the time to pretend you were all my imaginary friend, my dearest pen pal who laughs at all my jokes and gets all my references, and stopped pretending i was anything besides what’s written here. 

and i think, like, a lot of people now live in this weird simulation? and are so confused about romantic and familial love to the point where everyone is getting off on family members fucking each other and can’t decide if it’s normal to think kids are hot? but i guess that was always some weird fucked-up demon side of human existence? another thing i’m supposed to accept. (also sorry trigger warning.) and another thing i took for granted as a child, that most people, if not everyone, is weird/gross/evil, but now that my mind is cracked this shocks me all over again and i seek some sort of explanation. it’s like i can’t find a real hunk of closeness anywhere. i’m close to my own family, but in my other relationships we’re either too distant or too close and i’m desperately searching for just some normal friends. and to be able to give a speech where i tell someone i really love them and for it to ring true. but i try to be grateful that i live in driving distance to the beach and there’s air conditioning and once i stop being a stupid baby there’s probably more friends and work and stuff out there for me. and then i’ll have some new problem.

[l-egionaire]

A Sweet Future

WARNING: This story contains spoilers for the “ Little Graduation” episode of Steven Universe Future. If you haven't seen it yet, don’t read.

Knock!* Knock!* Knock!

Steven looked up from the book he’d been reading, “What do when you’re semi-retired and have nothing to do” and looked at the screen door of his house. His eyes widened when he saw a familiar pink silhouette. He walked over, opened the door, and sure enough, it was Lars in his space captain uniform, standing there with a cool expression on his face and a satchel slung over his shoulder.

“Lars, hey! What are you doing here? I thought you’d left already.”

Lars shrugged. “Yeah, I was going to. But then I thought about something you’d said to me and I realized something.”

“You realized you don’t actually want to go into space and you want to stay here in beach city forever?!” Steven said excitedly.

“No Steven. I’m still going into space.”

Steven’s shoulders sunk. “Oh.”

“What I realized was that you were right. I was kind of just leaving my shop unattended. I mean, don’t get me wrong Blue Lace is great, but I think the place might need to be run by someone who gets human food and flavors and stuff better. Someone who’s good with people and knows how to really help them with what they want and get what they need.”

“Where are you going to find someone like that?”

Lars rolled his eyes. “I’m talking about you!”

Steven blinked in surprise. “M-me?”

“Yeah. I figured that since you were the one who got me into the whole “sharing my baking with people thing” it would only be right. Besides, you don’t really have much going on since you left little homeschool so I figured you could use a job.”

“Lars, I don’t know....”

“Come on, it’ll be great. The gems and people who work at the shop are all super friendly, the place is never super busy enough that it should keep you from gem stuff, and you get to come home every day smelling like cake. It’s great”

“While smelling like cake every day was a dream of mine once, I’m still not sure i’m the right guy for the job.”

Lars let out a sigh and knelt down so that he was about eye level with Steven. He looked into his eyes with a serious expression. 

“Okay look dude, I’m gonna be real with you for a minute. The reason I’m offering you this because I think it might help you.”

“What? What are you talking about? I’m fine.”

“Steven, you so are not allowed to say that after what happened the other day.”

Steven gave a nervous chuckle and sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, that was bad but I’m good now. I’m cool with everything. Seriously.”

“Just listen okay?” Lars asked, his tone growing more serious. “I get it. All that Gem war biz really messes you up inside. It messed up your moms, it messed up Connie, heck, even I’m still kind of messed up. And the hardest part isn’t fighting robots or outrunning alien warlords. It’s dealing with all the stuff that comes once that’s done.”

“When stuff went back to normal, things seemed great. I had my folks, I had the off colors, I had Sadie. Things were good.”

Lars said all of this with a fond smile but then his expression turned grim.

“But then the hard part came.”

“I saw all my friends grow older and start to move on to other stuff. I realized I might outlive all my friends and family, and I felt so different from everyone else because I wasn’t really a gem but I also wasn’t just a normal human anymore. I started to go a little nutso. That’s why I opened my shop. It was something new. Something different. Something I could do with myself. I could bake a cake or sell some sweets and it took my mind off the fact that I might never have kids or that I’d outlive my parents. It was like a delicious smelling distraction from my issues.”

Lars reached out and placed a hand on Steven’s shoulder.

“Steven...I know you’ve got a ton of messed up stuff you don’t want to talk about. And since Gems apparently never invented therapy, and there’s not a psychologist anywhere in beach city, I thought this would be the next best thing. Something new you can do. Something you can try to get away from all the insane junk that you’ve had to deal with. A change you can make. What do you say?”

Steven stood in silence for a moment before finally saying with a small smile. “Okay.”

“Sweet.” Lars dug around in his satchel and withdrew a set of keys and a book Steven recognized as his recipe book. He handed both to Steven.

“Here’s the keys to open up the place and the recipes for my personal creations. Just do your best man, make the place all warm and bright and friendly. Steven the whole thing up.”

Steven chuckled. “Sure thing Lars. I’ll be there bright and early at seven.”

“Dude, the shop doesn’t open until 10. Stay home and get some rest.”

“Oh, okay.”

“And feel free to help yourself to the leftover pastries from the day before.”

“I’m not really into eating sweets that much anymore.”

Lars groaned. “You’ve become such an old man.” He rose back up to his full height. “Welp, I’ve got to jet. My crews waiting for me.”

“Okay.” But before he closed the door, Steven looked at Lars with a bittersweet smile. “Hey Lars?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Lars smiled back at him. “No problem.”

[thenafics]

Evil Author Day -- 2020

I saw this going around and I both wanted to feel included and have several WIPs that are probably not going to see the light of day for a long time. Most of these have titles already because I am incapable of writing a fic without having a title first~~~

1. Trouble in the Henhouse- AKA Red Hood joins the Suicide Squad

       Amanda Waller thinks she might have made a mistake with the newest member to her team. She’s let the fox into the hen house, except her hens are insane criminals and her fox is a bat who also happens to be an insane criminal. The metaphor starts to deteriorate quickly, but the point remains, this choice might have been the worst one she’s made in a good long while. He is an accident waiting to happen and one of the most deadly assets she has ever managed to get her hands on. He doesn’t kill for money, like Deadshot, or hunger, like Croc, or even some deranged showmanship, like Harley does or Joker’s Daughter did. He kills when he thinks it’s right, because he thinks the target deserves it and that is the most terrifying thing to find in a highly trained killer she’s putting onto a team with a lot of the same type of people he has a habit of offing. Whoops.

2. Ghosts of our Better Natures 

       Tim can tell the instant that Scarecrow’s formula really starts to kick in. He sees the way Jason’s body language shifts, his muscles pulling his limbs in tighter, in spite of the restraints holding him down. Judging from the smirk just visible on Scarecrow’s sack-cloth face, he notices too. “Is my new formula finally kicking in?” His high, grating voice overlays over the sounds of Jason’s harsh breathing. “Looks like the big, bad drug lord has a bit of a tolerance. I doubt I’ll even need to use half as much on your little friend over there.” Scarecrow gestures broadly at Tim where he’s tied up against the wall and then claps his hands with fake glee. “I know what we’ll do! We’ll use all of the extra I’m saving on him for you!”        Jason wrenches at his restraints, eyes wild behind his domino mask, but he remains uncharacteristically silent. He looks over at Tim and another wave of panic seems to crash over him. His struggles increase in strength to the point where Tim can hear the groaning of the rusty bolts holding Jason down.

3. Rafters for Roustabouts- JayRoy based on a piece of fanart I saw and can no longer find

       Roy remembers when Jason was just a skinny little twig of a thing trailing after  Nightwing with his spindly limbs and closed off smiles. The first time they’d met, Jason had looked up at him and blushed so hard that Roy was a little worried he might pass out from all the blood rushing to his head. Jason was in the Tower pretty infrequently, but any time he was there, Roy could be sure to find him either abandoning Dick for Donna (who he had immediately latched onto, like a baby bird imprinting on what it thinks is its mother) or acting as Roy’s shadow. Roy could often tell when Jason was visiting well before Dick told him because of the glimpses of inky black hair he would catch out of the corner of his eye. Eventually Roy got tired of waiting for Jason to stop being so shy. “Hey, Jason, I know you’ve got that whole stealth thing going for you, but it’s much easier to make friends if you just talk to people.”        There was a muted thump and a little yelp as Jason fell down from the rafter he’d been perched on. Roy made his way over to him and crouched down to look more closely at Jason. The younger boy was blushing furiously and had his hands pressed firmly over his eyes, almost as if he thought if he couldn’t see Roy, Roy might not see him. Roy let out a little huff of laughter. “You’re just a little shy, aren’t you Jaybird?”        Jason just burrowed further into his hands and seemed ready to just wait until Roy left so that he could tend to his bruised pride and tailbone.

4.   Chapter 2 of Release of Liability- My very self indulgent Dresden Files fusion au that nobody asked for or wanted. *Knowledge of the Dresden Files universe up to like, book one/two is v. helpful*

Wayne manor is steeped in the type of magic that can make a place a living thing. This is the home of one of the most powerful wizards in America and has been the home of an incredibly powerful magical family for centuries. There’s history in these walls beyond what the outside world will ever know. All of the wall fixtures are old fashioned gas lamps retrofitted with lightbulbs. It’s a darker paint job and some cobwebs away from being the house from the Addam’s family.

Bruce Wayne himself leads me further into the house and to what I assume must be his office. An older man appears almost the exact moment we sit down and offers tea in a clipped British accent. He disappears as silently as he appeared and rematerializes just moments later carrying a tray laden with tea and those fancy little sandwiches they always show on the BBC. Wayne thanks him and dismisses him with a soft “Thank you,” before the man is gone again.

“So, Mr.Dresden, I hear you’re good at finding lost things.”

“I tend to be. Though I have to wonder what use a practitioner of your caliber could have for my services. With all of Gotham at your disposal.”

“The situation requires a somewhat delicate approach.” I can’t help but snort in response. Delicate and I go together like oil and water. I am not who anyone should call for delicate, subtle, or any synonyms of that ilk. Wayne gives a wry smile and little laugh of his own.

“I misspoke. Not delicate, detached. I am well known to Gotham. You are not. I’ve heard wildcard is somewhat your area of expertise.”

“I’m not going to take offense at that because it’s true. What’s missing?”

Bruce Wayne fixes me with a paralyzing gaze and speaks two words that let me know this is going to be one of those cases that sticks with me.

“My son.”

Bruce Wayne is famous for several things in the magical community. His childhood trauma of witnessing his parents’ murder would make a YA author weep and left him the sole heir to one of America’s most notable magical lineages. That alone made him a Name, capital letter intended, in the world of the mystical. He also worked hard to actually become one of the most influential wizards in America and run Gotham with an iron fist. The most notable thing about Bruce Wayne however, is not either of those. It is his incredible and almost suspicious number of extremely powerful adopted children. A disturbing number of which share his jet black hair and blue eyes. I hope it’s just a weird narcissistic rich person thing.

He is well known to be very protective of his bevy of apprentices. To the point where he’d actually knocked out another wizard with a vicious right hook for making an untoward comment about his eldest son. It was a glorious day and I am thankful to have been within enough distance of the scene to see it go down. I am also thankful to have been far enough away that his fury didn’t turn to me. If something has happened to one of his beloved children, I have no doubts that Mr. Wayne will do whatever is necessary to save them. After the death of his second apprentice he’d practically torn apart the world at its seams in his grief.

5.  Windows for Bricks-  

“I’m here to pick up Damian. I guess I’m one of his emergency contacts and the lady on the phone said to sign in here before I could take him home.” Jason says to the nurse by the front of the sterile smelling room.

“Oh, are you,” she looks down at her computer screen “Jason Head?”

“Yeah, that’s me.” Jason shifts uncomfortably.

“And you are his … “

“Brother. Same mom.”

“I see. We get Damian in here a lot so I see the resemblance. You have the same eyes”

6. Dialogue Snippet- Dick and Steph on the topic of ass envy

“He’s just jealous of my ass.”

“Yeah, no.”

“What do you mean no?” Dick sounds affronted.

“Have you seen his ass?,” Steph gestures expansively in the shape of an ass. A woman at the next table over glares. “Jay has no reason to be jealous Dick.”

“What.”

“And those thighs… unf.” The lady the next table over glares harder at the noise Steph makes.

“Ohmygod,” Dick buries his head in his hands. “Please stop.”

“What? I'm just saying, he's got no reason to be jealous when the dude is bammin slammin bootylicious”

“I'm pretending I don't know you. Can Tim take you back already?”

“Fine. But take a peek next time you and your ass feel so high and mighty”

7. Innocence for Sinners- JayDick prawn. I wrote this at the request of a friend. Very much not what I usually write, kind of nervous about posting it

*warning for Mature rating*

When he thinks about it, of course it makes sense to Dick that Jason is a virgin. He died before he’d even turned eighteen and spent a few years after that being either brain dead or criminally insane. It was really only in the past three or so years that Jason could be counted among the semi-rational members of the population and he had been so busy during that time span that there was no earthly way he had done anything. Still, Dick couldn’t help but be a little surprised when Jason pushes away from their kiss, while Dick’s hand rubs gentle circles over his crotch, and gasps out “No one’s ever touched me like that before.” 

Dick pauses and pulls back fully, his weight between Jason’s spread legs still pinning the younger man to the bed.

“What do you mean Jason?,” he asks, seeking verbal confirmation for his suspicions. Jason blushes prettily and turns his head to one side, as if to escape the weight of Dick’s eyes. Dick reaches out and turns Jason’s face back towards him. His eyes trace the delicate flush that brings out the freckles across the bridge of Jason’s nose and blown out pupils in sea green eyes.

 “Jason, are you a virgin?Am I going to be your first?” Jason blushes even further at the questions and nods mutely. Dick feels a rush of possessiveness pass through him at the idea of brash, rebellious, Jason being his. It only makes sense, after all, Jason had spent years wearing Dick’s colors and a month or so trying on the Nightwing suit for size. Of course Jason should be his in some other way. Dick leans back forward and kisses up Jason’s neck, ending up right by his ear.

“I’m going to ruin you for anybody else, little wing.” Jason shudders and lets out a soft moan as Dick scrapes his teeth against his neck in punctuation.

 “Please,” Jason breathes out. Dick growls quietly and surges up to kiss Jason. He weaves his fingers through the curls of Jason’s hair and pulls slightly. Immediately, Jason gasps into Dick’s mouth and arches his back up off the bed. Dick chuckles and pulls harder. He is rewarded with a moan and a shudder from Jason.

“You like that Jaybird? When I pull your hair?” Dick laughs against Jason’s mouth when Jason nods with downcast eyes. “Let’s find out what else you like.”

Dick leaves one hand in Jason’s hair and worms the other up under Jason’s shirt, brushing over the hard lines of muscle and scar tissue. He thumbs over one of Jason’s nipples gently and feels a slight shudder run through Jason’s body. Taking that as a positive sign, he rolls it between his index finger and thumb. Jason gasps and tosses his head back, breaking the kiss. 

“Dick,” he gasps out, “That feels so, ah, good.” Dick smirks and rolls the nipple again “Aaaaaaah.” Dick pulls his other hand from Jason’s hair and starts using it to push Jason’s shirt up while he brings his mouth down to Jason’s stomach, kissing over the places where his hands had traced over.

“Wait, Dick!,” Jason calls out, panting for breath. Dick looks up at Jason’s flushed face. “I… I have a lot of scars there. Some of them might not be ones that you want to see…” Jason trails off towards the end of his sentence and avoids eye contact with Dick until Dick uses his free hand to gently pull Jason to face him. Dick can see in this flustered and blushing Jason the same boy who had been so shyly admiring of him all those years ago. This shy virginal Jason is far more little red riding hood than the big bad wolf that the Red Hood pretends to be.

“I want all of you Jason. All of you.” Dick says softly. He gently pulls the shirt all the way off of Jason, manipulating the younger man’s arms so that he can remove it. Once the shirt is off, he kisses up Jason’s chest to the top of the Y-shaped scar that stretches from collarbone to collarbone and bisects his body from mid-chest to belly button. Dick mouths gently across the raised tissue and grinds his hips down against Jason’s. Jason can only gasp wordlessly in response as Dick uses his right hand to trace down and past the long tail of the scar to the top of Jason’s jeans. He pops the button and undoes the fly with one hand. When he starts to shimmy Jason’s jeans and boxers down, Jason lifts his hips and practically whines. Dick slides down Jason’s body and sits up in order to pull the pants off all the way before settling himself back between his legs. 

“Your thighs are gorgeous.” Dick doesn’t even try to hold back a moan at all the exposed skin before him, some spots criss-crossed with thin lines left from slashes and stab wounds or spotted with starbursts from gunshots. He takes a moment to appreciate the way Jason’s waist cuts in and then flares out to almost feminine hips and thick, muscular thighs. Dick slides his hands under the small of Jason’s back and inches them down to the top of Jason’s ass.

“Really? You like them?” Jason asks, blushing.

“Babe, I love them. It should be against the law for you to wear pants. It’s practically a crime to keep all this hidden under your jeans.” Dick kneads at the soft flesh of Jason’s ass.

“Says the one who’s all covered up,” Jason gasps out. There’s Dick’s Jason, blushing and innocent, but still talking back. 

“Let’s fix that then,” Dick chuckles and slowly removes his hands, giving one last squeeze on his way. Dick peels off his t-shirt, deliberately twisting his body and putting on a show for Jason who watches with rapt attention. Dick smiles softly at the awestruck look on Jason’s face before making quick work of the clasps on his pants and shimmying out of them completely. Dick bends down and starts to kiss up Jason’s left leg, starting at his calves and working up to his thighs. Once he gets to the sensitive skin on Jason’s inner thighs, he takes his time pressing open mouthed kisses to the skin there. Dick scrapes his teeth against the skin as he pulls away from a kiss about halfway up Jason’s thigh and feels the strong muscles underneath tremble. Smirking, he repeats the action and looks up to watch Jason. The younger vigilante is struggling to hold his composure, but Dick wants to watch him fall apart completely. So he lowers his mouth back down to Jason’s thighs and bites down. At that, Jason arches off the bed hard and lets out the loudest moan Dick has heard from him so far.

8. Runneth Over and all that Jazz- incomplete work for day 7 of Omega Jason Todd Week -Lactation kink au heavily inspired by  @whumpbby and @daemoninwhiteround2 and all their stuff. A little R rated

If it weren’t for his chest, Jason would be nearly impossible to recognise as an omega. He’s taller and more muscular than most omegas so with his deep voice, no one would ever guess. If it weren’t for his body’s absolute betrayal. Jason, like pretty much all adult omegas, produces milk. It’s meant to help reinforce pack bonds and keep pups adopted into a pack fed. That’s not the problem, that part of it is manageable with absorbent pads in shirts and semi-regular use of a breast pump. It sucks, but it’s not the problem. The problem is that Jason’s pack bonds are weak, so his body will let down and start producing milk on a hair trigger. He’s peak fertile age and tangentially part of a mostly alpha pack, but not bonded well enough to balance his hormones, so his body has decided to try and tempt his pack into bonds with milk.

It’s a nuisance. He hears Bruce’s voice on the radio and a little dribble of milk escapes. Dick and Tim get into an argument and he can feel his breasts swelling with more milk. Cass gets injured and he ends up having to sneak off to change his shirt when she cuddles up to him for comfort. He saw Damian cry once and that was enough to get him leaking like a fountain and avoiding the bats for a few days. He knows at least one of them can probably smell the milk on him, but they have the good graces not to mention it so long as he doesn’t. 

So Jason distances himself from the pack. He figures if he doesn’t see them, his body won’t decide to go into hormone overdrive. Except it just ends up compounding the problem. More time away from the pack means even weaker pack bonds, which ends up kicking his hormones into even higher gear than they would have been. Soon, Jason’s having to empty his milk every day, then twice a day, then eventually he has to break in the middle of patrol to empty his breasts so they aren’t incredibly sore as he’s flipping around rooftops. He switches from plain absorbent undershirts to nursing undershirts in all black so that if he leaks it won’t show. It’s gotten way out of hand but the only way to fix it is to either break his pack bonds entirely, which might make it worse, or go to the pack and suffer through some potentially very embarrassing bonding.

He shudders at the thought of his pack finally drinking from him. The vulnerability it would bring stirs up something like panic in his stomach mixed equally with want. Letting them know that he can be manipulated just because of a biological response would put him at a huge disadvantage. If they knew he could be made to let down and go into a pheromone drenched haze with some carefully chosen vocalizations they could use it to their advantage when Jason inevitably pisses one of them off. Still, something has to be done, his chest hurts so much that when he got hit there on patrol, he almost blacked out.

He decides to go to Tim first. The slightly younger man is the easiest for Jason to get along with, and despite his tendency for general sneakery, he has enough respect for what Jason does that he probably won’t use it against him too much. It’s a risk, but the potential for relief from the pain of his swollen nipples and frequent breast pump use are enough to take it. Tim is practical and doesn’t seem like the type to get physically aggressive. Even if he does, his small stature means that Jason should be able to escape. Hopefully he won’t be weird about it. Fingers crossed.

Jason knocks on the door of Tim’s apartment, about an hour before patrol typically starts. Tim answers the door looking sleep deprived as always with a mug of coffee in one hand. Jason gives him a sheepish smile and a half hearted wave, after which Tim gestures him into the apartment, one eyebrow raised in question. He shuts and locks the door behind him.

“Hi Jason. It’s been awhile. What are you doing here?” Just the sound of Tim’s voice is making his chest swell a little.

“Can’t I just come visit?”

“Of course you can, you know I like your company. You just usually … don’t. So… ”

Tim pins Jason in place with his calculating stare as he waits for a response. The silence is incredibly awkward for Jason because every second that passes he can feel the slight swelling inch closer and closer to potential leakage. He finally breaks when he feels a small dribble of milk start to leak from one nipple.

“I need your help.”

“A case?”

“No… “ Jason trails off, still unsure.

“Are you okay Jason?” Tim sets his coffee down and sits next to Jason on the couch. Their arms brush and Jason fucking gushes. If Tim couldn’t smell the milk on him before, he sure as hell can now if the way he sniffs the air is any indication.

“What’s wrong Jay? Why are you, umm, … “

“Leaking?”

Tim nods, nostrils flaring as a blush steals across his face.

“I’m letting down at the drop of a hat right now. I’m overproducing so much that I have to stop in the middle of patrols to pump. It hurts real bad.” Jason couldn't stop the whine from leaking into his tone if he tried. Tim unconsciously responds with a swell of alpha scent. The pheromones set Jason off again and he gasps as he involuntarily lets even more milk escape.

“Jason,” Tim’s voice is practically a whisper. “How can I help?” Jason takes a moment to steady himself under the force of Tim’s gaze, closing his eyes so he doesn’t have to see his reaction to the answer.

“ I need you to drink enough to solidify our pack bond.” 

Tim makes an interested little noise in the back of his throat and places one delicate hand over Jason’s on his lap. He gives a gentle squeeze

“Are you making enough to do it in one go?”

“Were you even paying attention? Yes. I’m producing enough for the whole pack.”

“Why me? If you go off pack hierarchy aren’t you supposed to go to Bruce? Even if you don’t trust Bruce, you could have gone to Dick or Barbara.”

“If you’re not willing, I won’t pressure you.” Jason’s voice is flat as he starts to stand, but he’s stopped by Tim’s suddenly much stronger grip pulling him back to the couch.

“I never said that. I just want to know why you chose me before I potentially upset pack structure.”

“ ‘M more comfortable,” Jason mumbles, avoiding eye contact. “Dick’s too clingy and Babs still thinks I’m crazy most of the time. You’re … nice to me. Helpful.”

“You’re nice to me too Jason. We take care of each other.”

An unfamiliar throaty purr starts up in the back of Jason’s throat as Tim gently presses his shoulders back into the couch. He pushes up Jason’s shirt, making sure to be extra careful right around the chest area. An accidental brush from the back of his hand as he pulls the shirt off causes a whimper to interrupt Jason’s purring. Tim shushes him gently as he sets the shirt to the side in a crumpled ball. Jason glares at him until Tim sighs and folds the shirt semi-neatly. He rearranges himself until he’s draped halfway over Jason’s lap, face centimeters from touching Jason’s chest. Tim stares unashamedly at the plump flesh where he can see the wetness where milk has already escaped. 

[nvzblgrrl]

Part 1 Heyo man, I'm absolutely ecstatic that you have this whole One Piece Big Fic project in the works. I'm honestly p paranoid about interacting with words, but your works have been something I've continuously enjoyed going back to and rereading over all these years. And while you've grown and your earlier stuff feels cringe, there's a charm that Witt and Witticism and all of your earlier works have that is longlasting. And I, and apparently others, can't help but love.

Part 2 I've probably reread your fics a good thousand times by now. Like seriously I've got a good bunch of the fics you posted on AO3 saved as PDFs for my own personal reading when I feel the urge. Namely Luck of The Draw, Ultimate Symbiote, and a portion of your Chain Adventures. I've been here quietly reading for a long time and I'm gonna make sure to properly give feedback this time. Good luck in your absolutely bonkers endeavor!

Yeah, absolute mood on the ‘cringe’ part. I think the only excuse I can make for the really early stuff is that -

(this is gonna get loooong and reference child abuse + the 2000′s-2010′s meme culture, so pre-emptive apologies)

1. I had a really messed up upbringing. Not as bad as some people’s situations but still on the deeper end of bad by the ‘White American’ standard and still (albeit barely) within the bounds of Funny Sitcom Abuse Antics (at least for mid-2000′s and older stuff) most of the time. Most of it was neglect and social isolation - I pretty much left the property to go to school, church, and to visit relatives because of court-mandated visitation, the last of which probably kept me from going insane, and that was it aside from events where my dad needed an accessory to compliment his public mask - but there were some other shit mixed in that relied on the Trunchbull Rule (it has to sound too weird to be real so nobody believes it/takes it seriously) to happen.

So besides like, the PTSD from that (which has a habit of bleeding into all of my works, which you’ve probably noticed by now, lmao), I had like, zero experience on healthy relationships, social skills (well outside of a few variations on ‘messed up friendships’ and what I picked up from books, movies, and TV), and basic life skills outside of stuff like ‘boil water and follow the box directions’).

2. I got into the internet really late compared to my generation and everyone after. This was mostly because we had literally no semi-reliable internet access until I was about 11-13 and that was either the school internet or the dial-up at home (which of course was time-limited with the time shared with my brother and done on the family computer with observation in effect). Most of that was spent on like flash games or webcomics, many of which I have tried to reread only to find them gouging my soul because god what the hell was happening in 2007 - wait. Yeah.

It got better by the time we hit high school because by then we had our own computers (not scanners though, I had to pass art and passwords over to a friend of mine to get them on the internet for a couple years before we got one at home), a better internet connection, and high levels of parental disengagement as we proved to be disappointments despite our previous ‘potential’ (my dad was hoping for me to become a life-long cash cow for him, IDK what was going on with my brother and his mom), which meant I could spend more time on the internet... which at the time, meant DeviantArt and FF.net (tumblr came way, waaay at the end of my time in high school).

Yes, that’s where I started out. That should explain a good 90% of why the early stuff was Like That.

Also don’t look for my DeviantArt because I deleted the whole thing years ago, for cringe reasons - namely, a really, really stupid minor war over something I can’t even remember but it ran a lot like those old ‘Potterheads Get Your Wands’ posts, though the fact that 80% of my output towards the end were extremely banal and/or fucking insane One Piece (and occasionally Soul Eater) Demotivator Posters didn’t help.

Pictured: proof of my crimes against humanity (with some minor repeats - every single one of those demovitators are something I did and that’s not even all of them) despite my attempts to destroy the evidence, because the internet (and pinterest) never forget and often reposts without permission.

[Image description: a series of drawn images of a man. the first panel is of him looking at a computer with the subtitle ‘recognition’, the second is a close-up of him with sweat and a look of surprise on his face along with two exclamation points subtitled ‘realization’, the third and final image is an extreme close up of his intensely stressed expression subtitled ‘fear’.]

[Image description, but funny: me accidentally coming across one of those reposts a couple years ago.]

I personally can’t forget because I know my style at the time (it had a few variations, but all of them have been seared into my soul) and how inane/insane some of them read. My favorite was one that ended up turning into a word vomit about how cool Gol D. Roger was that ran so far that it didn’t fit inside the format anymore and ended up running off of the page repeatedly.

...and yes, I did make one edit that was ‘Dead or Alive? is that a trick question?’ for Brook. That one’s still circulating too.

3. While that covers a certain amount of the problems with the early work, Witt and Witticism stands out as a pinnacle because I was both using a reaction heavy style (I was pretty much doing a live-blog of my One Piece anime rewatch in fanfic form, using Witt as a mouth piece - a similar style was used with Ultimate Symbiote but fortified with a few original stories and actual non-canon stuff happening!) and going through the tail end an extreme manic period brought on by escaping (read: getting kicked out of because they were no longer socially or legally obligated to care for me anymore) my abusive childhood home + having money (from my dead mom’s social security).

Seriously, that year was bonkers. I got to go to Disneyworld, got a new cat, published an insane fic, and blew through so much money on some dumb fucking shit when my dad wasn’t stealing it because I didn’t realize he had access to my then-bank account.

Also I’m pretty sure that you can detect when my sanity/depression started reasserting itself in the last few chapters of Witt because he starts experiencing consequences, though I’m not saying you should reread it to try to locate that moment because I’m having to re-read it repeatedly for reference purposes and I don’t think anyone should have to suffer this unless they’re into that (which admittedly, might be the result of that ‘charm’ you mentioned, because I can’t otherwise account for how that fic got over a quarter of a million hits otherwise).

Not to say that all of my early stuff was bad (some of it was actually shockingly good once I found it again, even though it was flawed) but the most easily accessible stuff is... not great!

And thanks for the well-wishes. I’m gonna need that luck if I want to get through it. I look forward to the feedback!

[kim-lexie]

january rewind.

music.

‘dreams come true’ by NCT127. my goodness this song what a blessing and gift from our boys. 

‘lay back’ by verivery. my goodness this slaps. i stan.

sf9 comeback. OUR BOYS S E R V E D. this was stellar, the concept superior. the visuals, the vocals, the choreography. like yes yes and yes. the whole album was incredible. my fave tracks ‘like the hands held tight’ and “shh”.

‘lion’ by (g)-idle. im not into girl groups, so I've actually never looked into this group but dang lion is a bop and i love this track, and it makes me feel like boss.

‘any song’ by zico. this challenge is precious and has been stuck on repeat. 

dramas and movies. *spoiler alert*

parasite. i saw this a while ago and dang am i excited to say i was ahead of the hype. i must be honest i was intrigued because (1) a foreign language film was going to be at my local cinema (LIKE WOAH) and (2) CHOI WOO SHIK. so i just had to get my friends to go see it. i went in blind. i had no idea what the premise was what was gonna go down. NO IDEA. and it was unexpected intriguing and beautifully filmed. i left the film wondering and pondering the concept. you best believe i watched all the videos about the nuggets that i definitely missed in the first viewing. it is a film that makes you question and engage in discussion with those around you. i enjoyed it.

seriously incredible looking at the oscars and seeing that they won BEST PICTURE. a foreign language never winning in that category is wild. honestly never watch these shows because its always the same people and white washed. but dang i hope this opens peoples eyes to see that whole new worlds are waiting to be discovered if only they would allow themselves to be open to seeing them. 

would recommend to everyone to jump into the discussion and enjoy the film because it really makes you think...

bring it on ghost. this was a good one. i saw that it was added to netflix and gave it a watch. i enjoyed all the characters and i am so glad that she wasn’t actually a ghost but a spirit that was able to wake back up and have a happy ending. i love the main leads character as he is trying to raise enough money to get rid of the “gift” that was bestowed upon him from the demon spirit. but this terrifying gift to see ghosts brings him to his now, love (cue awwwww). overall it was slightly terrifying but i appreciate the comedic relief that the two guys had from the university. i would give it a 7.5 out of 10. 

chocolate.  this one really got me. the flashbacks and character development. however, it had its slow moments that really made me pause and question will i even have a happy ending should i finish this. but seriously thankful i did. there were so many precious moments between the characters, and the friendship that were short but remained with the main characters from the hospice. it was interesting to see how each episode developed and showed us new friends that were only to be with us a short while but impacted the lives of our main leads dramatically. but because of you i could come this far. one of my fave quotes:

‘i came to get you. i wanted you to get more rest. but i missed you way too much.’ 

‘i wanted to rest with you too.’ 

‘as long as well hold on to hope nothing will break us down.’ 

i also greatly appreciate how it all became about food in the end. like seriously all the sadness and grief and they made it about the one love for food. i would rate this an 8 out of 10.

when the camilla blooms. dang i held out to watch this because everyone was talking about it and me and my know it all attitude was like it can't be that great. BUT DANG! the reason everyone was talking about it was because it is SOOO FREAKING GOOD. honestly, it reminds me so much of strong woman do bong soo. bc there are cute romantic scenes and great comedic elements and characters, but dang these scary dudes are scary...

first off, yong-sik this man is too precious and there were so many incidents that reiterated how precious/tenderhearted his character is. for example, when he was like “shouldn't we talk about last night, because i couldn't sleep a wink last night” when referring to them holding hands. him getting super jealous, and was like “dongbaek, you must hold my hand hurry!”. it was hilarious when we all thought he finally got up the courage to ask her over to his place, and her to accept for it to be a request to wash his hair because he can't with his burns. *dead*

i love pil-gu. and i love how everyone loves pil-gu because he is a great kid. he’s funny, i.e. saying to jong-ryeol (his biological dad) you’re not that great, then being semi bribed by the latest gam. his sass is ICONIC, ‘i don’t spin tops with my ears’, when referring to jong-ryeol telling him to stop playing to listen to him. i love that song-sik shows up to the baseball game and becomes “a man with a drone” to protect pil-gu. i hate how he was like i need to leave my mom for her to be happy and he bottled it up inside, this poor little nugget. he soon realizes and gives it all back bc he wants to stay with his mom. and nothing can bribe him away from the most precious thing to him. 

dong-baek is such a freaking strong character! she was bomb, the character development was insane. i feel like this quote from the end really captures it:

“aren’t you just sick and tired of being intimidated all the time? people keep acting up because i’m nice to them. i’m a person who’s capable of breaking someones with my fist. and i’m a fighter who’s able to protect my own kid…i decided to become the strongest mother in the world from now on.”

she went from being chill and letting people walk all over her to becoming a boss! i also love that yong-sik allowed her to be a boss and protected her to be able to breathe easy. 

“consider your life as a never ending festival. and i’ll make sure you can live as immaturely as possible.” -yong sik 

because she had to grow up so fast. like he is seriously the best. waking her up and allowing her to believe in herself again. and their moment of her finally saying “i love you.” and him like, “i knew it.” 

jeong-suk, her mother. this was such a sad storyline. the woman who abandoned her at the orphanage, came back after she found out her time was limited. her mother was always looking out. being there during the accident saving her. saving insurance policy. watching after pil-gu at day are. she did her best to compensate for abandoning her. freaking lost it when both her mothers, (biological and deok-sun, yong-sik’s mother) freaking knew each other prior to the current time. from when dong-baek was a little nugget and when deok-sun was pregnant with yong-sik. like what a full circle!

the whole killer aspect really threw me because everything was going good and then you'd have those cuts to the present day with bodies being found, and i did not appreciate thinking it was our main lead for the longest time. me preparing my heart to break from episode one. and then she goes and does things like going into semi-abandoned building to meet with someone who’s says they have your scooter that your missing coworker left somewhere. like this chick is gonna die. thankfully she didn’t and we got the happy ending we all wanted!

i seriously appreciated that they included the scene with pil-gu as a major league baseball player, and our happy OTP watching him on tv like thank you drama writers. i would seriously rate this a 10 out of 10.

[yeswevegotavideo]

@thegrandwilde, I got inspired from our earlier conversation and you did say you like getting introduced to new music so… (Though actually, feel free to ignore this post entirely, I just like info-dumping about They Might Be Giants and this is a convenient excuse to do so lol)

Apparently it was three asks, maybe there were more I didn’t see, but these are the songs I’ve seen referenced in those weird ass tmbg asks (Spotify links):

The Mesopotamians

Birdhouse in Your Soul

Don’t Let’s Start

And really, those are great songs, but speaking as someone who has obsessively listened to this band for 32 (of 36) years, these are some equivalent or better ones under the cut. One from almost every album, actually.

(*Favorite albums)

Put Your Hand Inside the Puppet Head (They Might Be Giants, 1986)

Their least-refined album, being their first, but full of a lot of gems, actually.

Ana Ng (Lincoln, 1988)*

Much more polished than the first. This one’s hard to choose one song from, nearly every one is gold.

Your Racist Friend (Flood, 1990)

Probably their most popular album, at least from my era? Extremely popular among Mormons for reasons I’ve never really understood.

I, Palindrome, I (Apollo 18, 1992)*

Arguably my favorite album to this day, not just from TMBG, but generally. It’s actual perfection, is all. Next to impossible to choose a single song to feature.

No One Knows My Plan (John Henry, 1994)*

Their first album after adding more members/instruments, including some horns, which they would keep from this point forward. (Now they’re two Johns, two Dans, and a Marty). Arguably their first commercially viable album, and likely the thing that got them noticed by TV producers. (Soon after this, they wrote The Daily Show theme and have been more or less industry staples ever since. They wrote the Malcolm in the Middle theme song, as well.)

Pet Name (Factory Showroom, 1996)*

Another basically perfect album, next to impossible to choose a single song from. I only chose this one because it’s awesome and a bit more chill than a lot of their stuff.

Doctor Worm (Severe Tire Damage, 1998)

One of their better-known songs, from an almost entirely live album, but not a live song. I see people quoting this one semi-often and wonder where they heard it.

Reprehensible (Long-Tall Weekend, 1999)

The first full-length online-only album ever released by a major artist. Which is amazing. (They were also one of the first major artists, if not the first, to have an official online radio station, in 1999. Which is insane.)

This song is a good representation of a mainstay of TMBG: pairing perky pop melody with vaguely (or sometimes blatantly) sinister lyrics or subject matter. One of my most favorite musical tropes (gee, I wonder why? Lol)

My Man (Mink Car, 2001)*

Released around the time John Flansburgh started his electronica/hip-hop fusion side project, Mono Puff. I’m not wild about the project, but being in that headspace did wonderful things for this album.

This song is featured to demonstrate their extreme, general nerdiness (especially John Linnell’s, who is my preferred John). Insofar as they have managed to turn the 3 word phrase, “I am paralyzed” into a 3 minute song, without once using the actual phrase.

Experimental Film (The Spine, 2004)

A good, solid album, another one it’s hard to choose one song from. The video for this song was done by the Brothers Champs, creators of Homestar Runner. The story goes that they each found out the other were huge fans of theirs, collectively did whatever the middle-aged man equivalent of a fangirl-squeal is, and began collaborating immediately. They still do, occasionally.

The Cap’m (The Else, 2007)*

It took me a while to warm up to this album, but now I absolutely love it. While looking for a song to post, I realized one of the anon asks quoted this song.

The Lady and the Tiger (Join Us, 2011)*

A nearly perfect album marred by a couple of songs that I legitimately dislike. That is…not a thing I say about TMBG often. *shrug* They can’t all be Apollo 18.

This song baaaarely squeaked by ahead of You Probably Get That A Lot, When Will You Die?, and Cloissinné because the Bassline. Fucking. Slaps.

Money for Dope (Album Raises New and Troubling Questions, 2011)

Released as a companion to Join Us, including some songs cut from the album along with some b-sides, live tracks, & remixes. It’s got some good shit on it, including Marty Beller Mask, easily one of the most surreal songs they’ve ever written.

But I featured this song because it was the inspiration for my The Young Ones: Love & Mobsters fic: Dope, and because it’s one of their many songs that is literally just a list of things, which is very them.

Call You Mom (Nanobots, 2013)

Another solid album, but not one of my favorites. It might just be too new for me (she said of the 6 year old album), but it might just not be one of their best albums. *shrug*

They Might Be Giants has a very distinct sense of humor. This song is just about the perfect example of that.

Erase (Glean, 2015)

The first album released after they started their new Dial-A-Song project, which they turned into a song-a-week challenge. As a result, the album isn’t like, exceptional, but there are a lot of gems, actually.

This is my favorite song on the album because it’s about the creative editing process (yes, a rare TMBG song that is definitively about something) and I feel it on a spiritual level.

Bills, Bills, Bills (Phone Power, 2016)

I’m not familiar enough with this album to have much of an opinion on it, I don’t listen to it much. But I had to include this song because I legitimately fucking love TMBG covers, and this one was…unexpected, lmao.

Mrs. Bluebeard (I Like Fun, 2018)*

The first album released after the 2016 election, and it shows, with a strong thread of fears about aging, loss, vague despair/disappointment, and political anger (An Insult to the Fact Checkers is a blatantly anti-Trump song). I fucking love it.

This song is just really well composed, and also demonstrates a strong feminist sensibility, rarely seen in ostensibly cishet(?), white, male baby-boomers (young ones, but still).

(Yes cis, dunno if het? Neither are particularly effusive about their personal lives. They’re both married which, of course, means literally nothing.)

I mean, they’ve clearly always been liberal commie bastards (see Your Racist Friend above), but they’ve become more vocally so over the past few years.

[ellerevelle]

okay so im feeling crazy and detached again (as usual lately)

but instead of spiraling into absolute fucking panic, I’m deciding to take today to just ... not wholly subscribe to this manner of thinking BUT. JUST FOR NOW. I feel like taking some of the craziness flack off myself and blaming it on some shit outside of myself. Because feeling this weird and detached cant all just be me. So here’s a brainstorming of whats got me fucked up, in no particular order: 

Trump is our stupid President

That guy who told me he loved me daily and asked me to be his girlfriend after basically living with me immediately after meeting me and I fell for hard despite a ton of red flags CHEATED on me while I was away visiting home. 

And then blamed it on MY bad communication? fuck that guy. 

But now I see one of the girls he slept with (multiple times, three days in a row) I see her everywhere all the time in everyones instagrams, at everyones parties... ugh. 

Um. People are dying. Close to me. More importantly and spefcifically women I love are dead. 

I didnt get to see Inga before she died. I was too busy forging a relationship with CHEATER GUY. Didnt get home in time to see her. Talk to her. 

Grandma. This has been the whole first year without her, come November. Its subtle, but terrible and I hate it. She was my last matriarch. The last woman who’s blood is in me. 

because Mom’s dead too. And has been since August of 2015. 2015, right? God it feels like forever ago now, probably because I’ve pushed it away. She died unexpectedly and NO ONE IN MY FAMILY HAS SAID THE WORD SUICIDE OUT LOUD even though thats what happened. She OD’d on prescribed opiate painkillers to escape her depression. And we NEVER talk about it. 

So I kindof feel insane. Not talking about things that are clearly there. Like, are they not clearly there for anybody else? Now all my women are gone. My brother literally avoids talking about feelings. My dad is a little more receptive but is more the comforting type than the forthcoming, express onesself type. Getting sentimentality out of my brother is like pulling teeth sometimes. But yet if his son does something cute, its God’s Work and he cant help but cry and get that beautiful lovie squishy look on his face. 

I’m jealous of my own nephew. I see the way my Mom loved me, in the way my Brother loves his son. And I miss being that perfect to somebody. My Dad loves me forever and always and there isnt a word for how grateful I feel for our relationship. I dont take that for granted at all. It actually kindof scares me because... hah, well what if Dad dies? Like, before I’m ready? I’ll be even MORE fucked! 

Anyways. Austins been pissing me off. I’m sorry but although Polyamory is possible and cool and im sure quite beautiful for many, 

The Austin poly scene is fucked and tainted and a bunch of slutty people having orgies and not TALKING about anything and its ruining the healthy vibe poly is incumbent upon. 

So, whatever I’m angry. So fuck that noise. 

I feel like because of cheater guy and my anger at the psuedo poly orgy sexy bullshit scene in Austin, I feel like I’ve broken up with a whole group of friends. Like, I dont want to be around any of it. I dont want to see you eat mushrooms and twerk. I dont want to see your stupid, super naked outfit. I dont think its hot you carry a flogger or can pole dance or slink around like a tarantino character. It used to be hot and thrilling and fun, when I felt like it was connected and for love and sharing and caring. But now it all just is slutty and vapid and useless and cold. Like a sad clown. And thats not sexy, its dark and desperate. *this is about both VERY particular people and broad general strokes. There are several extremely amazing friends in the scene and outskirts thereof that truly inspire me and dont fall into this catagory in my mind, although they’d probably still be angry with me for dissing things ^^ the way I just did but. fuck it, this is MY journal entry and I can be irrational if I want to. 

You cant be open fucking minded ALL the time. Sometimes people really arent acting with anyones best intentions but their own. I’ve used up SO MUCH FUCKING ENERGY making myself soften and open and “woke” and trying to go with everybodys flow. And I’m exhausted and over it. I have my own principles and theres nothing wrong with having differing opinions than someone else. 

All summer I’ve been feeling like I’m a bad person for not liking or not understanding this hyper sexual scene in Austin. I thought, “why am I shaming a scene thats giving me opportunity to really shine and be free?” when, in an IDEAL world, yes thats what the scene could be. But in what actually fucking unfolds -- humans SUCK and dudes SUCK and girls SUCK and everybody (especially when horny) are fucking STUUUUPIIIIIDDDD and ideals get thrown out the window! people arent nearly as “woke” as I gave them the actual credit for. Seriously. So! I’m fuckin OUTTIE! 

I’ve felt broken up with a whole scene. FUck cheater guy, fuck poly, fuck orgies, fuck people who are reckless with my love. 

Back to the list:

I’ve been eating too much out of boredom. Which I’ll blame on lack of quality social interaction in this town. Where are the scholars? Where are the sexy edgy BRAINY people? I’m tired of hot people in little clothing in the summer. 

Ah! Another thing for the list. its been TOO FUCKING HOT OUT. FOR MONTHS. 100 DEGREES FOR MONTHS. thats enough to make anyone insane. 

So i’m sick of teenie boppers in their nothing outfits in the heat. 

I want old smart people in peacoats. I miss books and weather and frowns. Irritable debates about literature or physics or religious theories. 

I only like my own brand of cigarettes. 

My roommates are annoying me. I dont really like my house anymore. Theres too many humans and not enough square footage. Four people to one kitchen is TOO MUCH SHIT. EVERYONE BUYS THEIR OWN BANANAS AND THEY ALLLLLL GO BROWN ON THE TABLE. thats four peoples worth of bad bananas. FUcking stupid. 

I dont have a hairdresser here. Sometimes when I feel shitty I like to throw money at the problem. Buy something. Get a haircut. See a show. Etc. 

And my hairdresser love is in Philadelphia and getting a flight to get a haircut is slightly insane (without a longer visit)

I miss Adam. 

What else can I blame my upset on. Shitty politics, shitty weather, shitty social sexual scene in my town, I dont like my house, I dont like my hair. Its too expensive to live here. No one in my immediate acquaintance or friend circle seems interested in the sort of romantic relationship I’m seeking, nor if they did does anyone have the “it” factor I look for which I’ll *try* to describe maybe in another post. 

So. I sit inside my room and try to fix stupid remedial things as if itd make a big impact. I tidy and put away clothes in attempt to feel less cluttered but am too scared to make BIG cuts and BIG changes. So instead I light insence and watch netflix and eat too much. I have started going to Barre3 again more and have been semi regular with therapy so thats something. 

I really ought to start doing “morning pages” like the book Fiona loaned me suggests in its FIRST GODDAMN CHAPTER. But, alas, I am lazy. 

No, I have become recently lazy. 

I’m spoiled. I dont do things I dont want to do. Its a major character flaw. I only push and struggle if I see worthyness in it, and lately theres been serious lack of evidence of that in, well, anything.

 #depression! 

so, I guess in summation- because nothing has been a WORTHWHILE struggle, EVERYTHING feels like a struggle. Humph. thats... thats not good. But it does, because i dont see the worth in a lot of goals or tasks or even relationships, (and i dont mean the greedy “what can I GET for ME out of this!” sort of b.s.) (I mean the... conserve precious energy, is this going to teach me something or help me grow as a person or bring love into my life sort of vibe) ...

when I dont think the energy expenditure is going to pay off, I dont do it. Or I do it half way or lazily or with tentative fear. I guess I could do an experiment and just do everything with HOPE and see if my energy put in will get a different result... but. like. I feel like I did that all summer and he cheated on me. And my “friends” said “dont be angry, be poly” and I couldnt call on my Mom or Grandma and so I call on eating and isolation and running away to visit home where no one cares I dont have a job. where the house is big and the air is cold and my friends are smart. 

I really miss Kristian. That was one of the greatest feelings of self love in my entire life. I felt like, if someone that special noticed ME. Saw ME. Little old, semi chubby, not famous ME, and wanted me around for a couple tour dates. Then I ought to believe in myself TOO. I wanted to dance, I wanted to make art, I wanted to take photos, I wanted to be bold, I wanted to be humble, I felt so open and content with myself. I was motivated to work out, I was motivated to eat healthy and clean and small portions. It was easy. It felt so fun. I loved him. I dreamt big. My imagination was so warm and excited. My inner critic was GONE. 

But he faded away. He got back with his ex. The shooting star left the sky. I’m still grateful for the experience at all, but. 

I feel a little stupid for thinking anything could’ve happened. 

And I truly miss feeling so special and excited about life. 

I dont want to run away from Austin out of fear. But I cant tell if I’m unhappy and want to leave genuinely, or if this is the spoiled part of me thats like, “this sucks, lets leave.” instead of pushing though, curating something better with some struggle, and sticking it out. 

How do people make big life decisions like this? I feel like thats what marriages do. People stay together and fight. But sometimes they get divorced anyways, its just been longer. More years wasted. When maybe it wouldve been healthier to leave sooner and cut the cord and be free to live without, sooner. 

I really like a lot of things about this city. But I really dislike a lot too. And I cant tell where I want my life to go, in a grand sense, so its hard to pick which attributes will matter in the long run. 

I dont think I should leave yet. Maybe a new house. Or like, serious efforts to declutter this one. Is this just excuses? Ugh. 

Declutter this house. If that doesnt feel better, leave the house and move to a new part of austin. If that doesnt feel better, leave austin. 

I need a job. 

[beatyoutothepunchline]

On Telephones

Carrie Fisher once said to, “Take your broken heart and make it into art.” I don’t know if she ever found a way to mend a mangled heart--one that can’t will itself to make any art right now--but if anybody has got something better than slamming a two buck chuck while laying on the floor of your dorm room, listening to Julia Jacklin’s cover of “Someday” by the Strokes for the ten millionth time, while going between six different tabs on Glassdoor of jobs you didn’t get while waiting for inspiration to ding like the semi-hourly email from Sur La Table, reminding your newly single ass that “love is in the air” and while it is you can take an extra forty percent off all clad cookware, I’d like to know. All of this is happening on my phone, which I’m trying not to look at right now and am failing miserably at because I’ve spent the last ten years slowly becoming more and more addicted to and reliant upon it. I’m not sure I could go twenty seconds without checking my Instagram feed, and I can assure you that unless the little blue dot on my map app moved with me, I wouldn’t ever get to where I was going. (Have you tried to ask somebody on the street recently where something is? Everybody’s got their headphones in). Remember when phones were just phones and all they did was call people? I do… vaguely. I remember using my stubby, bitten down middle school fingernails to pull up the antenna of my 90’s Nokia, plopping down on the floor in the living room of our house in Omaha and calling everyone in my mom’s address book and tell them I had a cellphone and if I needed to be reached personally, I now could. I remember my mom walking into the room and asking what I was doing, so I told her. I was on the phone with our next door neighbor, Doris Helfrich. My mom pulled the phone out of my hand and apologized laughing it off. I was too old to be doing stuff like that. Twelve or thirteen maybe, but I’m amazed there was a point in my life when talking on phone was a source of anxiety. This is due to the pressure of trying to make a good first impression, which I’m bad at to begin with. I’m one of those people you need to meet at least eleven times before they can form an honest opinion about me. There’s even more pressure over the phone, because there is nothing to go on other than my voice. This wasn’t something that I noticed until I got older and became slightly more perceptive and self conscious of it. I personally have no problem with it, however, in recent years it has come to my attention thanks to the groundbreaking observation of several of the men I’ve gone out with that I sound, “nervous” (In my defense, I’m usually burning the candle at both ends and my voice is shaking because I’m jacked up on an insane amount of coffee.) Or they say I sound scared or sad or angry. My absolute favorite though,came from this idiot I am crying over who told me,“You sound like a California girl.” Because apparently I talk slower (I’m assuming he meant I had a super cool laid back, So-Cal surfer drawl) and because I say “like” a lot (I do, but it’s usually because I’m trying to find the right way to say something. I’m not sure why taking my time to choose my words carefully needs to be pointed out to me as if it’s a bad thing.) But I’m cool and I quote from my favorite Valley girl, saying, “Yeah, well, you know, that's just, like, your opinion, man,” or some other joke that fits the comment. The smart one’s laugh and move on. The dumb ones ask, such as said idiot ask, “Why do you use comedy to distract from insecurities?” Truth is I didn’t have any until idiot dudes started pointing them out to me. I hate to admit I let something that stupid get to me, but whenever my phone rings now there’s this sense of fear that the voice on the phone doesn’t match the person I am, and the takeaway will be what I sound like, not what I’m trying to say. The next phone I got was a burnt orange Sidekick, which meant I could finally text people instead of having to call them. Not that I knew anyone to text. Certainly, the sixty-year-old neighbors I called on my Nokia didn’t know how to text or didn’t. But I meet people at school, those people invited me to parties where I meet more people. Those people and I talked for a while and if general teenage awkwardness (because let’s be clear: teenagers were socially awkward long before phones started making them that way) or my inability to form a sentence without sounding like an idiot didn’t ruin the conversation we’d exchange numbers so we didn’t have to talk with our mouths anymore. I distinctly remember a two week period in high school where I met a dude at a party, told my friend to give him my number, lost my phone for two weeks (totally content with never seeing it again) only to find it with an eighty-nine percent battery life and three texts from the boy my friend gave my number to. And really there are two things that are amazing about this. The first is that there was a point in my life where I went two weeks (336 hours, 20,160 minutes) without looking at my phone and that there was a point in my life where I truly didn’t care if the dude from the party texted me. Right after the party, or at all. What happened to her? Fourteen years old in that cocktail dress my mom bought me last minute from Forever 21, standing along the back wall of a dark high school gym, the bass rattling my chest. There was a point in my life where the loudness of it all didn’t freak me out. There was something almost kind of meditative about it. Not the people or music. There is absolutely nothing meditative about being surrounded by teenagers in varying stages of puberty (and yet somehow simultaneously, at the peak of it), dancing to “Apple Bottom Jeans” by T-Pain and screaming “REMEMBER FIFTH GRADE?!” or singing out of key to “Fireflies” by Owl City and screaming “REMEMBER SEVENTH GRADE?!” or little circles of light from a disco ball spinning around your head like someone knocked out in a cartoon. I stood along the back wall of the gym, closed my eyes and focused on the bass until I forgot all the lyrics and all the people around me. If I were twenty-one then I’d have pulled my earbuds out of my clutch and put in my music, Jon Brion or Aimee Man or the Velvet Underground, and slow danced with myself. Unfortunately, I was fourteen. I didn’t know who Jon Brion or Aimee Man were and I didn’t go to the dance alone. For some reason, I decided to go with a bunch of girls who were appalled by the sight of grinding. I was appalled by them being appalled by people who made different choices than they did and decided to call my parents to pick me up an hour into the dance. “Already?” My mom asked though I’m not sure why she was surprised. I always left the party early. As I sat waiting on a concrete bench outside, a girl ran out of the building like Cinderella and the clock was inching toward midnight. She was wearing a powder blue ball gown that looked more prom in the ’50s than a homecoming in 2013 and she was bawling her eyes out, mascara and eyeliner streaking down her face. She sat down on the opposite end of the bench from me. There were about twelve identical benches around us, but she sat on mine for some reason. From what I gathered between sobs into her cell phone she and her boyfriend had just broken up because he had and cheated on her with another girl, who he had taken to homecoming instead of her. Back in my dorm room in 2019, in between Julia Jacklin songs, I started to binge-watching videos by Thoraya Maronesy where she challenges people to call their crushes and ask them out on a date, or asks what the kindest thing they’ve ever been told and there was one video titled, “Who's 1 stranger that you still remember?” And as I watched this video, I tried to think about a stranger I remembered meeting and only one that came to mind was this girl on the bench. And the only thing I remember feeling at that moment was disgust. Because I didn’t understand why she would cry over someone like that. I didn’t get it when I invited him to a lit series I was asked to read at. I’m scared of talking to one person, the thought of standing in front of fifty hipsters in Carhartt beanies who are all tastefully one drink into the evening, armed with big vocabularies and ready to critique me is terrifying. It’s not like Iowa where if you screw up people won’t remember it because they’re not paying attention, won’t remember it because they’re five beers in, or will remember it but love you enough to make it into a joke they’ll tell at your wedding, to your children when they are old enough to get it, and put in your obit. To my surprise, they were all incredibly nice and he was the asshole. I took his judgment of shaky voice and my word choice as honesty. I let him rip into the poets that read the whole walk back to the train, only meekly interjecting with, “At least they’re writing poetry.” I let him call me cute and mansplain the intricacies of his book on finance and politics. I didn’t get it until I made dinner for him (which took well over the estimated hour cook time, because I, in fact, do not know how to operate an oven) and he told me that he was seeing three other people while I was home over winter break. Over break. When he was calling me every other night to tell me he missed me, I was dipping out of dinner early, laying on the landing of the staircase of my parents place or pacing around the freezing garage floor talking to him for an over hour. Because who calls anymore unless they really like you? Only then did click and I finally got it. Heartbreak is a sixteen year old who--for the first time in her life--finally feels like Nora Ephron didn’t completely lie to her, only to have that feeling stripped away by some stupid thing some boy told her. Because a woman well versed in her past mistakes and a man well versed in his didn’t write the right words for that asshole. Heartbreak is a big blue dress that directly juxtaposes the era. That you write off as being delusional or dated, but secretly gives you hope that slow dance still happen, that late night telephone conversations between two people still exist, and still mean more than what is said during them. Heartbreak is mascara running all down your face and no one chasing after you when you leave the party. And let me tell you, that kind of heartbreak looks much better on a sixteen-year-old girl at homecoming than on a twenty-something sitting alone at her kitchen table, with a botched TJ’s lemon chicken sitting in front of her, still a little raw in the middle. I glance down at my phone, trying to convince myself it was to check the time instead of Snapchat, or Instagram. It’s the time of night I would have called him and I debate calling my mother, but I’ve already called her. She likes breaking news, not this repetitive, 24-hour loop of a relationship I prefaced with, “Don’t get used to hearing about him. It’s not gonna last.” I know she will be a hundred percent honest with me. She’ll tell me to wipe the snot out of my nose, splash some cold water in my face and get over it. So instead I call my grandma because I want to talk to somebody that will pretend to care and she is scarily upbeat and gets wildly off topic. She will save me. Or distract me. Maybe they’re the same thing. As soon as she picks up, she tells me about how my uncle Rob was in Chicago for a Navy conference. “But only for two days,” she says as if to avoid offending me. As if I would be furious to find out he didn’t want to spend the few free hours he had in his tight schedule to see me. She told me he left his Navy blues or whatever you call them back in DC where he sometimes works, or in Sicily where he is currently stationed. I forget where she said he left his Navy blues because I wasn’t listening to her tell me how he ran all over town on his lunch break, acquiring pieces of a uniform from thrift stores and getting them tailored to fit him before dinner that night. Where nobody was the wiser, save the two men he asked had a spare necktie. I didn’t stop to consider how beautiful that was--how it could be a short story. One I could’ve been writing if I wasn’t preoccupied with things not working out with the guy I was seeing. My grandma, now picking up on my not so subtle crying, tells me in an uncharacteristically flat, matter-of-fact tone, “It works or it doesn’t,” before telling me to link up with my mom’s second cousin who lives two streets down on Michigan Avenue. That I should consider writing him a letter. Maybe network a little. I write down his address, toy with the idea of writing a letter, but hang up when my grandma starts telling me to “network” with people. A few hours after my conversation with my her, no further into my homework or a story about my uncle, I go from break up songs to love songs when “Big Me” by the Foo Fighters pops up on my recommended list. I’d heard the song before, but I had never really listened to it. Some people say it’s about a fight this guy has with his girlfriend and the line, “If we can get around it/I know that it's true.” Meaning, if it’s the real deal, they’ll figure it out together. Some say that lead singer, Dave Grohl, simply meant it as a corny love song for his wife at the time, some insist it’s about dealing with the loss of Kurt Cobain. I don’t know. I wasn’t in the state of mind to analyze it, so I let the music video inform the brilliant and infuriatingly vague lyrics. The music video for “Big Me” parodies a Mentos commercial, aptly renaming the mint candy “Footos.” In it, Grohl, the band, and several actors (who, if not ripped off of the set from an actual Mentos commercial we’re perfectly cast as being the kind of people that could be in one), encounter a series of minor a setbacks. A woman gets parked in by a self-centered businessman, Dave Grohl gets cut off by an angry lady in a limo, and a kid is kept from getting into a Foo Fighters concert. After a moment of contemplation as each tries to figure out how to deal with the situation they are confronted with, they have this sort of “Ah-ha!” moment, before popping in a “Footo,” smiling at the camera and coming up the solution that has been there all along. The band picks the car out up of the parking spot so the lady can get out, Dave Grohl befriends the woman in the limo that cuts him off and give her a Footo, and the kid is able to sneak into the concert and play with the band. It’s equal parts funny, stupid and feel good and I can’t help but smile when I watch it. I text my brother a link to the video and tell him that I’m having one of those nights where I look at Dave Grohl and think, “Alec could do that.” I pause to explain that, “I don’t know exactly what I mean by that.” But I tell him have fun making that EP he and his band are making. I listen to the song fade out and check my phone, wishing I could pop in a Mento, choose happiness and figure out how to fix myself when I think of one last number I can call. I get up off the floor, walk over to my desk and slide the poem my mom gave me out from under the chip clip holding it to my picture frame. The poem was her dad’s. It’s titled “Don’t Quit,” and when I’m close to quitting I read the poem. When I want answers to questions I flip it over to the phone number written on the back under the name D. Imer. I have no idea who he might be is or what it might means. I open my phone, dial the number, and stop just short of calling. Not because I care about what the person on the other end will think of me or my voice, but because I don’t want to ruin the illusion I’ve created. Deep down I know it will not redirect me to a secret telephone line that will give me answers to all my questions.

[laraleecupcake]

So my aunt and her son went into business for themselves! 

Jennifer was my babysitter as a kid. We spent a lot of time with her, as a babysitter and friend. I think this is a strange thing now but my brother and I genuinely loved watching family home movies as a kid, especially the tape of my little cousin who lived in Alaska for a time and after which moved closer. But on that tape was my uncle, who was about Jennifer’s age, playing with his nephew, joking with his dad, and practicing his golf swing. Lance would later become semi-pro, but trade that for a military career. Jennifer took one look at him and fell in love. Lance moved back into town and mom and dad immediately introduced them. Shortly after they got married. I was over the moon. I got to be their flower girl. I was a Big Deal for that wedding. I still remember both my grandmothers making a giant fuss over me, the fact that my aunt spent ages on my hair, my grandmother altering the dress, the fact that their wedding colors were white and dark blue, so my flower crown had dark blue ribbons in it and I thought it was the prettiest thing I’d worn in my life.

Jennifer was a fantastic aunt. Lance worked alot, so when I slept over at their house it was mostly her and I. We burned pancakes and set off the smoke alarm. :) Her and Lance divorced in too short a time for my little self, but she remained a close family friend. She had been one of my dad’s students after all.

She moved away and eventually remarried and had Nick. I’ve only been able to meet him a few times. My dad was quadriplegic from a muscle disorder that he was born with. He taught grade 11/12 English for 30 years and was an accomplished artist and average Skyrim player. (You DO need armor, Dad! You just do.) Dad really connected with Nick and tried his best to be a mentor and friend to him, knowing some the challenges he’d face. Dad grew up in the 50s and 60s, starting his teaching career in ‘69, he was completely dependent on his mother and sister and friends. He had forced to attend a school for the mentally disabled as a child because the school system simply did not know what to do with him. I’ve watched people regard my dad as someone with a less than capable mental capacity because of his wheelchair. He once fell asleep outside of a store and woke up to loose change sitting in his empty drink. He bought another soda with it. But it’s insane how under estimated, or worse completely disregarded, throughout his life because of a physical disability. (Mom once took a person To Task, some business or bank person, because they didn’t even acknowledge Dad when he asked them questions directly, and they only responded or direct questions to Mom.)

I’m so glad Nick will not have to grow up in as difficult an era as Dad did, but there is still a lot of discrimination to overcome. Going into business for themselves is something we should support and I hope that you do.

Follow them on instragram too!

https://www.instagram.com/nicksdogtreats/

[libralita]

January Wrap Up | 2019

This month I tried to read as many books as I possibly could because I’m starting my second semester of college and I know that I will not have time. I also really want to try and beat last year’s record of 150 books so I want to stay ahead of how many books I was reading last year. I really succeeded. I read a total of eighteen books which is amazing! A lot of those books were really great as well.

The first book I read of 2019 was Tempests and Slaughter by Tamora Pierce:

This book started out a little rocky. I didn’t really like how fast we went through Arram’s schooling. Especially because it didn’t feel like the trio really grew that much until the end. But as Arram started to change and start to discover who he is then the story got a lot better. I really liked seeing Arram healing, it really felt like he was in his element and how passionately he works. I wish we got to see more of Varice, I still don’t really understand what a kitchen witch is. Ozorne was interesting but I also feel like I want to see more of him. I don’t know whether I’ll continue on with this series.

Next I read The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami:

While I enjoyed this book, it wasn’t as good as 1Q84. The most interesting part of this book was the flashbacks to Manchuria and Boris the man skinner. It was horrifying and interesting. Toru wasn’t ask interesting as the other characters in 1Q84 and this book felt a little bit more pointless. However it was still interesting and the ending really saved it. I gave this four out of five stars.

Next I read The Inexplicable Logic of My Life by Benjamin Alire Sáenz:

I really loved Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe so I decided to read his other books. This book started out a bit rocky. I always get a little annoyed when authors throw in a bit of Spanish to make sure you know your Mexican characters are Mexican. The “No bueno” thing was really annoying. Every book that tries to be feminist, ends up being sexist. However, when the completely heartbreaking stuff started to kick in, I started to really enjoy this book. My favorite character was Fito Fresquez. He had such a tragic story and his sadness felt so real. While I had issues with this book in the beginning it turned out to be a pretty good book. I gave this book five out of five stars.

Then I went back to Haruki Murakami with Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage:

This book was so good and has the protentional to be one of the best of the year. I related so much to Tsukuru because if I had a group of close friends and they suddenly decided to cut my out of their group, I would have no idea what to do. I also really liked Haida and am sad that there was no closer on what happened to him. What happed to Shiro is crazy and I would never forgive the friends for what she did. I’m sad that we didn’t get to see if Sara accepted Tsukuru but I think she did so there. I gave this book five out of five stars.

Next I randomly picked up The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt:

This was an interesting book. It reminded me of Name of the Wind and that’s not a bad thing. It has beautiful writing and Theo reminds me a lot of Kvothe he has a serious passion, is border lined obsessed with a girl, and has a tragic backstory with his parents. I think the only thing that I didn’t like was that time jump was a little jarring, I wish that it had been more led in. But I really enjoyed this story. It was just…beautiful. I gave it five out of five stars.

I finally finished Timothy Zahn’s Thrawn Trilogy with The Last Command:

This book was so amazing. Leia had her twins, Jaina and Jacen, and I cannot wait to see more about them. The ending is what really made this book great. There was a Luke clone which was such a good twist. Then in order for Mara to be free of the Emperor’s control she kills Luuke Skywalker. Very clever. Then Luke gives Mara his lightsaber. That’s so sweet. Such a great ending to this trilogy. Five out of five stars and one of the best of the years.

I continued on with Silver Spoon with Volume 4 by Hiromu Arakawa:

I really enjoyed this volume! It’s nice to come back to this lighthearted series. I really like seeing more of Hachiken’s family, especially his father. I can’t wait to see more flashbacks of his middle school mental breakdown…does that make me a bad person? Any way, five out of five stars. Fun time.

Next for my YA Literature class I had to read the Scorpio Races by Maggie Stiefvater:

So I don’t really like the way Stiefvater writes. She usually has really great writing, semi-interesting premises but BORING characters. And this was no different. So borrinnggggggggg! I had to read this book for my YA Literature class and oh my god I was so uninterested in this book. The characters were so dull, I didn’t even bothering learning the side characters name. I didn’t care about the romance. I didn’t care about the world. I was so uninterested in this book. The premise was kind of interesting but it doesn’t save this nothing of a book. I gave this book one out of five stars.

Next I picked up The Complete Maus by Art Spiegelman:

This was an incredibly sad story to read, like all Holocaust stories. The only problem I had with this is that the present day storyline too up a little too much time. I care more about what happened during the Holocaust then Vladek’s marriage problems. But it was still a great story. Five out of five stars.

Then I read An Echo of Things to Come by James Islington:

I would say that I didn’t enjoy this book as much as I enjoyed the first one. I wish we could have seen more of Caeden, Davian, Wirr, Kara, and Asha together. At points they would see one another but I really want to see them all interacting. But again Islington is really great at doing dark twists. I think Caeden is my favorite character. Everything with his wife and the shapeshifter. But then at the end of the book when Caeden had killed older Davian. That is so insane! Such a good book. I gave this book five out five stars.

I was in the mood for super sad contemporary after reading Aristotle & Dante and the author’s other books so I bought They Both Die at the End by Adam Silvera:

I didn’t like this book as much as More Happy Than Not. I think it’s because I didn’t really care that much about Mateo and Rufus’s relationship. I teared up a little bit when Mateo died and the ending was pretty good. However, I think the premise of two people falling in love on their final day is really cool, I just think that it wasn’t as powerful. It would be a three star but the ending bumped it up for a four.

Next I picked Tiny Pretty Things by Sona Charaipotra and Dhonielle Clayton

Alright take this review with a grain of salt because I absolutely adore these types of stories. I’ve always had a soft spot for ballet school dramas. I use to love Dance Moms, Bunheads, and this one Australian show that I can find no matter how much I google it. Point being I love ballet stories and I love the dramaz. This book was full of drama. So much romance and backstabbing…or foot stabbing. I gave this book five out of five stars.

After really loving the Goldfinch by Donna Tartt I decided to pick up The Secret History:

This book slightly missed the mark for me. It was still good, I gave it four out of five stars because I really enjoyed the transition from the friendship between the group of Greek students to then killing Bunny and the aftermath. However, I think after a while when the students are starting the spiral out of control, I stopped caring. Especially Charles, I did not like his transformation. It was very annoying and he was a character that I really liked. So, I’m sad that it missed the mark but it was still a good book.

Next the final book that I had to read for my YA Literature class was Brown Girl Dreaming by Jacqueline Woodson:

I’m not much of a poetry person so I that probably hindered my enjoyment of this book. It was an interesting story about a black girl growing up during the Civil Rights movement in America. It was interesting to see the different places throughout America and her family life. There were a few really great poems, most of them got the point across. I gave this book four out of five stars.

I then continued with the Tiny Pretty Things Duology with Shiny Broken Pieces by Sona Charaipotra and Dhonielle Clayton:

So I liked this book a little less than I did the first one. This duology is really a guilty pleasure series. I just love it for the drama. I actually think this book handled it’s finale a bit better than a lot of other contemporary books do. I think the one problem I had with it was Cassie and her over the top villainy. Like she is perfectly fine with people potentially dying. I felt like Eleanor got the short end of the stick. She was hospitalized twice in this book for the shit that Gigi and Cassie did. Poor girl. And Cassie does have a good case against Bette because Bette was horrible. So her handling made me not like this book as much. But I felt like the ending really made this book work enough to give it five out of five stars.

Next I read Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World by Haruki Murakami:

I didn’t really like this book that much. Mostly because I didn’t understand what was going on. Maybe I’ll reread it at some point but right now I could not tell you what the point of this book was. I think I enjoy Murakami’s more realistic stories then he’s completely off the wall stories. That said, he had the beautiful writing, interesting characters, and the world ended so I gave it three out of five stars.

Because I’ve become somewhat obsessed with Japanese literature I picked up Go by Kazuki Kaneshiro:

I really enjoyed this book. It reminded me a lot of current American YA books, I guess the angst-y teen really is universal. It was a very short book but it covered a lot of stuff about national prejudice between people. It was less than 200 pages but it didn’t feel rushed. It didn’t waste time and gave a really satisfying story about a romance. I highly recommend this book. I gave it five out of five stars.

Finally, I read the Blade of the Immortal Omnibus Vol. 1 by Hiroaki Samura:

It took me a while to get into this book, mostly because it was hard to remember all the characters and who was who. At one point I thought Machi and Rin were the same person. It was also hard to tell what was flashbacks and what was happening in that moment. But after I got into the story and figured out who was who then I really started to enjoy it. It’s a really interesting story about revenge and I really like the dynamic between Rin and the immortal warrior. I really liked this book and I think I’ll continue on with the story. I gave this book five out of five stars.

Those are all the books I read this month and hopefully next month I can read at least a few books!

[gracetoecuadorexchange]

Personalities

In the rush to write down the first interactions I’ve had, I may have left a few basic stones unturned. The people I’m living with are still just name place holders at this point, so allow me to rectify this.

Host Mom:

My host mom is Alejandra, dubbed Mami Ale by her children and, in turn, by me. Mami Ale is in her early 40s with two kids, one of whom is currently on exchange to Japan, the other of which is 11 and here in Ecuador. As the fastest way I can probably convey what she’s like is through my daily interactions, I’ll give a quick overview of the ones involving her.

In the morning, if Cami forgot to grab her cloths the night before, Mami Ale will enter my room to grab them. The closet of my room houses both my things and Cami’s, and Cami doesn’t function well enough in the early mornings to get her cloths and shower in time. The first few days, this was how I woke in the morning. Unfortunately, Mami Ale is not the most consistent in her exact time of entering, and I definitely need an hour to properly wash my hair (I have a lot of hair, and it’s curly, and it’s long). There was a day I was woken at 6:30 and expected to be in the car by 6:45. I didn’t make the deadline or wash more than the basics, and still didn’t have time to sit at the table to enjoy my breakfast sandwich or return back up the stairs to brush my teeth. I never thought before that brushing my teeth would have to be a luxury I needed to wake up early to achieve.

After I set up an alarm on my watch, the first interaction with Mami Ale would usually be downstairs, either in the kitchen or near the table. Mami Ale will usually have set out placemats and breakfast for myself and Cami by the time I’m downstairs after showering and dressing in the school uniform. There have been times due to her sleeping through the alarm that I’ll make my own breakfast (usually cereal since I don’t yet know enough on how to operate the sandwich-press thing) and meet Mami Ale in the kitchen for her to smile and mention without much worry that she slept through the alarm.

Mami Ale’s job revolves around plastic surgery, as she gives massages from a designated room within the house. I haven’t figured out yet if she does these before or after surgery removing fats, but either way what she does improves the final result. Since it’s all from home, Mami Ale doesn’t have to worry about waking early except to take care of myself and Cami. She’ll be the one to drive us out to school, and she’s the one that provides two dollars for buying snacks (you’d be amazed what two dollars gets you. I could have 4 ice cream scoops, or 4 Oreo packages).

The rest of the day doesn’t usually have any specific interactions as she’s working in the designated room, and I avoid having to go in there (massages require nudity). She might come out briefly to say hello between and while greeting clients. By the evening, everyone of the family is doing a bit of their own thing. I might get invited to watch TV, or Mami Ale will drive me over to Rosetta’s (another exchange student) as our host families are friends.

Host Dad:

There’s not much to say here as Alejandra and he are split. For a name, all I got was Ali. He helped in getting me from the airport, carrying my insanely heavy bag to and from the car. In the end, those first two days were the only ones I had sight of him, and we didn’t have any one-on-one moment for me to assess anything about who he is.

Host Sister:

Having had an 11 year-old sister before when I was 13, it’s so weird to get another one at 15 now. I’m not complaining, as now that sister isn’t working specifically to annoy her older (and totally more mature) sibling. Instead I get to watch and wince as Camila directs her whines to her exasperated mother.

The first I’ll see of Cami is usually at the breakfast table, silently eating cereal and between asleep and alert, as we all are at 6:00 in the morning. She’ll say ‘Chao’ while getting out of the car she tends to be the last to when exiting for school.

The next I’ll see her is on the living room’s golden couch watching YouTube when I get back from high school in the car, or maybe she’ll be in the car as well holding an ice cream. After I’ve taken a moment to drop my things off, Cami will be the one sent to grab me from my room for the family meal of the day -- lunch.

After lunch I can almost always here her enjoying a Minecraft video from the seat at the top of the stairs. Sometimes I’ll go out to propose a card game, sometimes she’ll come into my room to do the same. The card game of choice has become Go Fish as it’s the only one other than Kemps that I knew how to play. We took the time to work on her English as it’s pretty atrocious for how long she’s been learning. I definitely won some cool sibling points by making the prize some of the candy I came over with. I’ve learned that the Mini Reese's cups are definitely a hit with her.

However, if she’s not playing Go Fish with me or complaining to Mami Ale that we’ve run out of sweets in the kitchen, Cami is attached to her phone. She’s at the angsty 11 year-old stage where she kind of wants to be mature but still enjoys buying slime and giving her mother the silent treatment for forcing her on the caterpillar train.

Host Grandpa:

 Papi Teto was the title I was given for my host grandfather, Guillermo. I’ve slowly picked up a few things about him that have given me the insight into the fact I’m part of a politically (or at least previously) involved family.

Papi Teto was a minister in the past, and is now an architect from what I’ve observed. This doesn’t mean he’s fully left the political game, as we’ve had at least two ‘town-meetings’ within the living room. The first one I saw had some 50 people all in the room made to comfortably hold 15 as they sat and stood in a circle discussing city affairs. The second was smaller with maybe 5 people, at least one of them being a police officer in uniform.

If those weren’t enough to convince me Papi Teto had been and probably still was someone important, we got to go to the port of Manta as they unloaded the first subway cars shipped all the way from Spain to be put into Quito. The whole thing was supposedly going on national TV, and was definitely note worthy. Papi Teto was there and in the pictures, along with the son I’m pretty sure is now a Senator.

With all this in mind, it makes sense that Papi Teto is the one sticking to formalities. He makes sure to say ‘Buen Provecho’ (Bon Appetite) and ‘Buen Día’ (the even more formal version of Buenos Días). The formality isn’t keeping Papi Teto from being welcoming, though, as he has referred to me as ‘mija’ (the combination of mi hija, my daughter/child). The fact that he was a minister definitely helps as he can speak English well enough when I don’t have the words in Spanish.

Host Grandma:

My host grandmother, Alejandrina, is referred to as Mami Nina. She was the one to make sure I was informed of my options on what to do after my late arrival in Guayaquil, and she was the one I turned to for random questions on words I didn’t yet know as Mami Nina knows some English and understands some foreign exchange as she was a student herself to Maine.

Although Mami Nina doesn’t tend to be the one to take me out places, she’s the one I’ll see around the house actually talking (Cami’s glued to the phone). Mami Nina will speak with Mami Ale’s waiting clients and make sure I know I can eat food. In fact, the first week was mostly her making sure I ate before going to bed and that I enjoyed whatever we were eating for lunch. Since then, she’s talked with a few clients about the fact I’m willing to eat pretty much everything except mash potatoes.

It’s hard to try and describe Mami Nina, honestly. She’s like the semi-strict grandmother that wants to make sure you’re staying healthy and out of trouble, checking up on your day and how the food is. She also wants to make sure I’m actually trying to learn the language, although I’m pretty sure she stopped worrying about that after I integrated into one of the school groups rather than sticking to the other exchange students.

So there you go. Everyone above is living within my house, except for Ali who is in Guayaquil. It feels a lot like my own family, with people maybe seeing each other in the kitchen or sitting down in the living room to all do something on the phone. Interactions don’t feel forced, and I get to chose for myself whether to interact. It doesn’t feel like a camp where counselors are paid to keep you occupied, it feels like an actual home and family that I’m given the privilege to be a part of.

Note--I don’t care enough to go back through for spelling mistakes, so no calling me out this time, Emily.

[chibiclem]

“APH alternate : Italy’s dark and light spectrum”

This is directly linked to my Eternat’s universe i’m develloping on deviantart, and it is the explanation of a concept about having different version of same people with a tendency to light and dark, depending of a materia called “Clauz” (a light Clauz and a shadow Clauz repectively). Each being have 2 Clauzs, the very first entity that ever existed in the Universe. Italy and Romano’s light Clauz is named “Iöga” and the shadow Clauz is named “Decerept”. (They both have the same Clauzs) The Clauz names have an impact on the names of their “Children”, as well as for their personality but the environment can change the “course” of their basic evolution.

If you want to know more about Clauzs and how a life is made in Eternat you can go there : https://www.deviantart.com/chibiclem/art/Life-and-Clauz-714737565

It is also the consequences of the destruction of the “God of Dimension”, resulting in all these doppleganger of mainly any beings but also planets at the time of his destruction, and thus, directly inspired from Tsubasa Reservoir chronicles, the creation of multiples dimensions/planets with more or less different evolutions!

Too many concepts that I tried to elabore more on deviantart than here.

Each character here have his stories : 

->From left to right

Feli (The pro-chiari):   The most pure of all Feli! The "Pro chiari" means in spiritual language (an universal language that all being with a soul can theorically understand) " pre-light". It's a special being that is protected by the lights and that will become one. (If you've read/watched the anime "Magi", it's there that the concept is born!) That's why Feli is treated like a messiah in his land, participating to ceremonies by dancing and attracting the lights. However, he's an humble character that live among the other in a village around the castle of her majesty. In the story where he is involved unfortunately, his planet will be consumed by a dark spell that broke the dimension and let "dimension devorers" enters theirs. The queen sacrified herself to activate a secret weapon, "The time clockers", which are 2 brothers, one being the needle and the other the dial (which have 2 personalities: the "dial of destruction" and the dial of reconstruction"). (And...they are alternate Germany and Prussia by the way) The time clockers  "saves" (more like in a computer even if nothing digital is involved) the people, beings and objects inside the dial by destroying them into “data” and then recreate them in another reality (which can  just be another planet) while erasing the threat they were activated for, but the counterpart is huge:  1) Everything outside the dial (which is around..50km^2 of diameter approximatively) will be purely erased from existence and memories, like it never existed in the course of time. So basically, the queen sacrified like 95% of her planet and inhabitants to save only a few. 2) The beings that were too damaged before the activation have to lose all their memory, and the others randomly lose it or keep it. Saying that not much people keep their memories intact during the process! 3) The ones that were already dead...are still dead but can be remembered (great consolation...). I could make a whole comics about this but really....I've no time nor energy to do so right now! XD

Ioga (The angel):  You may know that I love the concept of an angel Italy, and there are many Iogas existing. Their common point are their specialisation in exorcism. They generally live in society with other angels and are much more serious and devoted than Feliciano the Hetalia character, but they generally keep their innocent behaviour, though a lot of them have to face hardship.

Feliciano Vargas/Lovino Vargas: I hope you know them because if not you’ve got nothing to do her! XD

Felicia (Or "Feli The Commander"):  I've already make an art of her were I explained her story! --> https://chibiclem.tumblr.com/post/618265157131550720/aph-alternate-feli-the-commander-i-was

Feli (FX306): FX306 is a child experiment and the example of how a snapped version of Feliciano can be born. First, it's a little girl that would have the same personality as Feliciano or Lovino if she wasn't completely traumatized and her mind broken inside. FX306 lived in captivity with other children in one kingdom were the objective was to form an army of children with psychic powers, great longevity and skills in fighting. Her's is teriffic: she can control the body of other beings to a certain extent. However, she wasn't controlling it very well....She had to practice on the others captive children and almost all the time, the child's head before her exploded. Failing to her meant losing one of her "brothers" and "sisters", and even after crying, begging, she couldn't avoid the exercise that damaged her mind. One day, her most close friend went face to her, and she did everything to save him this time while both of them were terrified to their core. It worked in the beginning, but like always she lost the control, and the splash of blood came to her face . It was at this moment she completely snapped. Her scream of madness was so powerfull that she killed everything in her near perimeter even with the protection the scientist had. It also had another effect : sending a signal to the ennemies of the kingdom she was in, which was in reconnaissance expedition. The secret base was attacked while the children, which didn't understand anything of their situation, started to flee. But FX306 was berserk, she was making scientist kill each other, making their heads explodes, and killed in fact anything without distinction. Until she faced one of the scout, Bazy, an eternal-little zoion (zoion: half wolf half human with the apparence of a child and  "eternal-litle" is a kind of zoion that are immortal as long as nobody kill them). They fought against each other, and for the first time she couldn't killed it by one though because she couldn't focuse enough on him; he was too fast, too used to fight, much more than her. In the ruins of the facility she was in, he defeated her, but didn't killed her because suddenly, the ennemy he faced seemed more human, as she was crying in distress. Maybe it was the prelude of their future mariage, but he offered her to join his majesty and she accepted, falling in love with the one she considered her saviour and the only one that had defeated her. Afterward, they became inseperable. FX306 was baptised "Feli", and she became part of the special force of the queen from the kingdom of Cresseptia along with her husband; becoming really devoted to her majesty to the point of fanatism. Feli still is insane, but with more maliciousness as you can see on my drawing. Wearing a pink dress, she looks cute but have much control over her powers now and likes to use them to play with the ennemy of her queen. Also she has a bad temper and can easily become mad and instable. Only Bazy (which is by the way an alternate of Germany..again! ;) ) can stop her and create a balance, as he's the exact contrary: stern old soldier, collected. Even if both have childish forms, they are much older than they look! So you see, a weird couple!

Iota:  Iota is aside from the others. It's a stressed man living in a semi-steampunk world and an industrial city. He works as a math scientist that have powers over constants and physical laws. A magical powers that is quite complex, as it looks somehow like a more detailed alchemy. (If I were to give an example, he can make the wind blow faster in one direction, but for that he have to modify the velocity of the wind, adjust the other constant such as temperature, and create a vector for the travelling direction!) Another of his power, and one that is causing his life to be hell is his vision of fragments of the future, resulting in a chronic case of insomnia and stress. Asocial, he sometimes has to write/solve compulsively formulas and maths to decipher the future, or simply to action his mind. This lot of activity he has to do is making him even more tired, hence the dark circle down his eyes. The government is really interested in his work for  reasons you may easily guess, but he doesn't want anything to do with them anymore. Besides, he has saved a prisoner, Tykki, a zoion half maritime lezard half human (which is an alternate of England!) and of course doesn't need them to discover THAT. He also lives with a child ghost, Matthew (do I need to tell who he's inspired from?) in his little apartment where he rarely come out from. The food comes from a young boy, Xicke (alternate of China) which family lives in the same building and have a restaurant open to the street. (kind of a chinese restaurant, but not exactly) 10-year-old Xicke is actually pretty mature even if he complains a lot, and act like a mom to him, but also his confident, even if Xicke don't want to know secret that would put his family in danger!

Iöga: Mysterious young men, we don't know much about Iöga except that he changes dimension and has powers of controlling bodies like FX306, the difference being 1) he has perfect control over it 2) he can affect a larger zone. Forming a trio with his friends Ollicky and Shafugo (which are alternate of Russia and Korea respectively), they travels thanks to Shafugo's power (teleportation) to dimension in dimension like a group of teenagers travelling around the world. Except that they are quite dangerous and totally inpredictable. In the band, Shafugo likes to fight, Iöga makes fun of people to trigger them and then use his powers to make them regret it and Ollicky follows innocently the duo like a blooming flower. Nobody know how old they are, not even if they are eternally young or if Shafugo's teleportation also does time travel. Never have their irritating smiles dissapeared from their faces. They are the definition of trolling!  

Dercer :  That's the better for the end, may be not the most insane but the most dangerous of all the one I presented to you! Dercer is a silent scientist with eyes percing your very secrets. He is cruel and will experiment even on his own mother, and you know what he likes? Dissections... (You see, like the child that kills cats or dogs for fun?) He put a lot of pleasure in torturing his experiments, but is truly invested in science too. By that he is pretty much similar to "the Scientist", a demon making experiments to solve magical and scientific questions without any care for ethic. The worst is that he isn't insane at all, he wasn't traumatized as a child : he does everything without remorce, he planify everything, he is meticulous, discreet with bad maliciousness. His blood is cold and his smile unnerving. He however lives in a structure welcoming multiple scientists that mostly hate each other and it's the perfect thing for him because he can mess with them. How to describe him in one word? Psychopath....