#and the thought of having to learn another social media site made me So Tired

[operahousebookworm]

My Tweetdeck slowly going silent was the genuine precipitating event for the mental health crash where I ended up in the hospital. I didn't realize how much I was relying on that source of connection until it was gone.

Take care of yourselves, guys. We're happy to have you here.

watching in horror as i scroll through tiktok and video start to freeze or not load at all. profile pictures disappear. i am unable to leave likes. i felt like watching the ship sink.

i crawl back to tumblr on my hands and knees.

[mellometal]

Is it time to tear ANOTHER Dhar Mann video to shreds? YOU BET.

I've been sitting on this one for a bit because I wanted to make sure I talk about this tactfully. The subject of parents abandoning their disabled children is a very touchy one.

Parents abandoning their disabled children simply for being disabled is way too common. Like, I understand that not everyone has the resources to care for a disabled child (which is why you reach out for help, and why people like me, who work with disabled people, exist), but it doesn't mean you just walk out of their life. There are exceptions, like if you truly didn't want children or something like that, but just flat-out walking out of your kid's life BECAUSE they're disabled is fucked up.

I know someone personally whose biological mother abandoned her when she was born. Why? Because she's disabled. Physically, and mentally, to a point. I work with this woman on a daily basis. I don't really know WHY exactly her biological mother abandoned her, but I do know that her being disabled was part of it. It's sad. It doesn't affect her, thankfully. I'm happy that she's got her biological dad, her brother, and another maternal figure in her life, at least.

ANYWAYS. Before we get to the topic at hand, I need to put an obligatory trigger warning, like I do with EVERY Dhar Mann post:

This post will be talking about parents abandoning their disabled children simply for being disabled, treating disabilities like they're tragedies (in this case, we're talking about autism...again), divorce, and some SPICY ableist bullshit from an allistic (nonautistic) PIECE OF SHIT.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable in any way, you don't have to read this post. This isn't worth putting yourself in a bad state mentally. I would never ask for any of you to put yourselves in that position all for a post. Put your mental health and well-being first. Consume media that sparks joy for you.

As far as my response goes, it's definitely more calm than normal. Funny....since this video is about autism spectrum disorder again. (Third time's the charm, huh, Dhar Mann? NOT.)

LET'S FUCKING GET IT.

The video starts off with these two parents (Gwen and Allen) in a psychologist's office. The psychologist tells the parents that their son (Chance) is autistic, and she tries to explain what autism is to the parents, but Allen cuts her off. Why? Because he teaches at a prestigious university, so he AUTOMATICALLY knows what autism is from that fact alone.

Um, excuse me? Just because you're a teacher at a prestigious university, it doesn't mean you're an expert in everything. It doesn't make you an expert in ASD or anything like that. Unless you SPECIALIZE in that area. Even then, shut the fuck up. The people who know about being autistic are AUTISTIC PEOPLE THEMSELVES! SHOCKER.

Hey, Dhar Mann! QUIT WITH THE VIDEOS ABOUT AUTISTIC LITTLE WHITE BOYS AND YOUNG WHITE AUTISTIC CISHET MEN! I'M SICK AND TIRED OF IT. It's annoying, ignorant, and it feels like you're doing this on purpose at this point to piss people off. If you're so uninformed about autism in women and girls, FUCKING ASK AUTISTIC WOMEN AND GIRLS! DO BETTER RESEARCH THAT DOESN'T INVOLVE AUTISM SPEAKS. The Autism Self Advocacy Network (ASAN) and the Autistic Women and Nonbinary People Network (AWN) are great organizations to go to for any kind of research on ASD in women and girls. STOP GOING OFF OF THE BRAINS OF AUTISTIC WHITE BOYS AND AUTISTIC WHITE MEN.

I don't feel I need to go too deep into the fact that autistic women, autistic girls, autistic nonbinary people, autistic BIPOC, autistic AAPI, autistic LGBT people, autistic teenagers, and autistic adults exist. Y'all already know.

Gwen asks the psychologist if that means Chance isn't healthy. (I understand not knowing about autism, but don't treat it like it's a terminal illness. Please.) The psychologist tells her that Chance is fine, but he just learns differently and might need more support compared to his peers.

Yeah, autism can affect how you learn about certain things (limited and repetitive patterns), but there are other disabilities that can affect learning as well. Like how dyslexia can affect your ability to read, dyspraxia can affect your ability to do math, and Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) can affect your ability to focus or on impulse control. Autism affects how your brain is developed, it affects you socially, behaviorally, and how you communicate.

Allen is upset, says that he can't have a son "with a learning disability" (ASD is a neurological disability, not necessarily a learning disability), and treats Chance like he's stupid for being autistic. Gwen tells her husband that autism doesn't make you any less intelligent, WHICH IS SO FUCKING TRUE. ABSOLUTE FACTS. I was totally with her until she began that little monologue with "Just because a person HAS autism". SAY "JUST BECAUSE A PERSON'S AUTISTIC" INSTEAD! IT'S NOT HARD. PERSON FIRST LANGUAGE ISN'T WHAT EVERY DISABLED PERSON PREFERS. Allen says that "they could have another kid" and "put Chance up for adoption". Gwen obviously wasn't down with that. Allen gives his wife an ultimatum that it's either HIM or their son Chance. Gwen says that she can't choose between the two, but she will stand by her autistic son. Allen gets up and leaves the office, saying he wants a divorce.

Years pass by, Gwen is single and taking care of her autistic son Chance, and Allen has a new life with a ✨perfect son✨ (Samuel). He never mentions the son HE abandoned (Chance). He's completely forgotten about Gwen and Chance. (YOU OWE SO MUCH CHILD SUPPORT, ALLEN.)

Hey, Allen, how much do you wanna bet that your ✨perfect son✨ Samuel is autistic too?

There's the SATs, they're announcing a winner, and guess who it is? IT'S OBVIOUSLY CHANCE, OF COURSE. He's got the highest score in the country, with Samuel in second place. Allen is PISSED.

Chance gives a speech about how his mom really helped him, he struggled with autism, how Allen LITERALLY ABANDONED HIM, and THE CROWD GOES FUCKING WILD. Samuel, instead of being a sore loser, APPLAUDS FOR CHANCE. Stay humble, Sam.

My thoughts on the video? If you cannot tell by my tone throughout this post, IT WAS DOG SHIT. This video was insensitive to the true reality of parents abandoning their disabled children just because they're disabled. What do I expect from Dhar Mann at this point?

Here's my response to his video below. Don't worry, I will fully type out my response soon for anyone who cannot read the screenshots easily. It's a lot easier for me to do that on the desktop site than it is for me to do it on my phone.

For anyone who can’t read my response, I’m typing it out for you. Like I said, it’s easier for me to type it out on the desktop site than it is for me to type it out on my phone. It’s a real royal pain in the ass. But because I’m trying to make my posts easier to read for people, I’m doing this anyway. /lighthearted

First, second, and third screenshots (broken up into paragraphs):

Hey, listen, I appreciate the message you’re trying to go for, but can you please stop putting autistic people into a box? Can you stop treating being autistic like it’s a tragedy? Not every single autistic person is a little white boy in elementary school who’s considered “wild and unruly” or “super quiet and makes no friends”, nor are they a young white cishet man who’s a super genius or is how Chris Chan was before she came out as trans. (For anyone who doesn’t know about Chris Chan, there are many documentaries people have made on YouTube, and I highly recommend Geno Samuel’s docuseries, if you’re really interested in learning about Chris Chan.)

Autistic women, girls, nonbinary people, BIPOC, APPI, LGBT people, teenagers, and adults all exist too. 

It’s very apparent now that you get your resources from Autism $peaks, a hate group that spends the vast majority of their money on funding eugenics instead of helping autistic people like they claim, claims that only little white boys and young white cishet men are autistic and ignores all other autistic people who don’t fit that description, have no autistic people on their leader board or on any board for that matter, have members who have actually fantasized about k1lling their autistic children, treat autism like it’s a tragedy or a disease someone can catch (completely false), act like autism should be cured (there is no cure, and ABA therapy is a total shit show in itself), and treats autistic people like they’re broken and need to be fixed. Also, not every autistic person is a Super Genius(tm). That’s so demeaning to autistic people who aren’t seen as intelligent in any way. I’m autistic and seen as smart; however, there are subjects I’m stronger in than others.

If you can’t handle the possibility of having autistic children, or just disabled children in general, DON’T HAVE CHILDREN. If you can’t handle working with or alongside disabled people, including autistic people, maybe find a different profession. Even if you do that, you’ll never get away from disabled people. Disabled people aren’t a disease. We’re human beings just like neurotypical and able-bodied people.

Fourth and fifth screenshots (broken up into paragraphs): 

I would highly suggest getting resources from reputable organizations for ASD, such as the Autism Self Advocacy Network (ASAN) and the Autistic Women and Nonbinary People Network (AWN). Talk to any autistic person who isn’t a little white boy or a young white cishet man. 

Instead of using the puzzle piece, which is a symbol that many autistic people, myself included, are offended by (because of Autism $peaks and other organizations before them using it, plus it symbolizes that only autistic children exist and that we’re “missing a piece” like we’re broken), use the rainbow infinity sign (for all neurodivergent people) or the red and gold infinity sign (just for autistic people). Instead of “lighting it up blue”, light it up red or gold. Do both if you want. 

I’m actually really sick and tired of seeing just autistic little white boys and young autistic white cishet men being represented in the media, and y’all manage to fuck that up too. 

Before anyone mentions Sia’s movie “Music”, that’s also very poor representation of autistic girls. Besides, the actress who played the autistic girl isn’t even autistic. She MOCKED autistic people. I know she’s a kid, but that’s still super fucked up. I hope she’s able to turn that around. 

If anyone would like to discuss this topic with me or ask any questions, feel free to. I’ll answer as best as I can. Thank you and have a good night.

Before I get attacked for mentioning Chris Chan in my response, I bring up Chris Chan because allistic people think that every autistic person is like her (especially before she came out as trans). That person is part of why I wasn't open about being autistic or talking about my diagnosis until this year. I didn't want to be grouped up with Chris Chan because I do have very similar interests to her, I've been seen as cringey for having said interests, and just the way Chris treated autistic people who were formerly diagnosed with A$p3rg3r$ $yndr0m3 (like I was) really made me feel even more alienated.

Also, S1a supports A$ (Autism $p3aks). She's not a very good person to support. Some of her music is good, but her as a person....no. Her movie "Music" was gross, from what I've read about it and seen pictures of.

If you've read this far, thank you so much!

[skellebonez]

Smoke, Flasks, and Unfinished Tasks: Chapter 10

AO3 Link!

Chapter 1 Link!, Chapter 2 Link!, Chapter 3 Link!, Chapter 4 Link!, Chapter 5 Link! Chapter 6 Link! Chapter 7 Link! Chapter 8 Link! Chapter 9 Link!

Summary: While the trio and Jin are in the Calabash, the family they left behind try to figure out what to do without falling apart at the seams.

Warnings: Mentions of mouth related injury, self depreciation and negative self talk.

Author’s note: Happy Season 2 premier in a few hours from posting this everyone!

Chapter 10: In The Meantime, Stay With Me

When Iron Fan had said she could get them everything they needed, Pigsy was not expecting that to be a nearly literal statement.

It had taken no time at all for the bull clones to set up a a veritable base of operations for them to use. Long rectangular tables set up and pushed together to make one large enough for DBK to maneuver things on a map, various types of technology that clearly had red Son's handiwork on them around the edges of the map. They used pieces from a mahjong set to mark spots on the map, barring the bonus tiles of seasons and flowers which would be used should they run out of others (and if they did they would allow themselves the worry they were pushing deep down for the moment) and the three dragon tiles. Green for Mei, Red for Red Son, and while Pigsy felt the White tile wasn't the most fitting for MK it was easiest for cohesion.

They had everything laid out in front of them, each location they checked marked off with a numbered suit tile (all bamboo used up first, then moving on to dots, and once those were finished they would use the characters). The 4 winds marked the four major locations they felt needed to be tracked, barring Flower Fruit Mountain as they eliminated the possibility of anyone reaching there outside of PIF, Wukong, and MK themselves: The Bull Family homestead, a temporary place reminiscent of Fiery Cloud Cave just outside the city where they were currently pooling all their resources. Pigsy's Noodles, the obvious place for the trio to go if they managed to escape themselves. The tea shop that the Spider Queen made them aware of.

And one final tile left sitting to the side, ready to be placed should the tea shop lead them somewhere else. They had doubts that the trio would still be there, though did not discount the possibility, since it would be risky to not take them to a secondary location if they knew the Spider Queen had prying eyes. And most everyone who could have pulled this off must have known that to an extent.

Pigsy wished that they could have used some of Red's tech instead of a too large map and mahjong tiles... but most of his tech was locked up tight and none of them really knew how the tech he left with his parents worked anyway. Not even they had a good handle on it, he was the one who typically ran everything when they were all together and he had programmed the operating system to his own needs. While they would have been able to figure that out in time, and Sandy was doing his very best to work out how to unlock some of the devices and would eagerly transfer everything they had on the tables into whatever programs they could access, they knew time was not in their side.

As DBK and PIF and Wukong mulled over who to send to the tea shop and where else they could look if they weren't there, Tang was nose deep in his own phone. Signal was shocking good here, all things considered, and once everything had been established he had started to scroll through social media once again just like he had when the search began. One site, another site, refresh, scroll back up, another site, back to the first, refresh refresh, scroll again.

He hadn't stopped for almost half an hour... and nothing had been found, Pigsy could tell by the shake in his hands and shoulders and the frown on his face.

"Hey," he said softly, reaching out to touch his shoulder. Tang jumped, too immersed in his search and easily startled before he realized who was talking to him. "Come on, I... I don't think we're gonna find anything like that."

"I have to do something, Pigsy," Tang said firmly, refreshing the page he was on once again and grimacing.

There was an edit of the trio someone had posted, a news photo, filtered in bright colors and emoji hearts. "Our Heroes!" laid out on top. Tang almost threw the phone down on the table, just barely managing to slam it down instead and drawing the shocked attention of everyone else as he buried his face in his hands and took a deep calming breath.

Pigsy waved them all off with a frown, and only turned back to Tang when they turned away from them both,

"Tang, this is just makin you upset. You-"

"Have to do something," Tang repeated, shaking his head and looking back up at Pigsy. He looked so tired. They all were, he supposed. "I'm just me. I can and I will help look for them and fight, and you will not be able to stop me, but I can't do... anything else here. I'm not a strategist, I'm not that good with tech, you don't need grunt work done with the Bull Clones around... the best I can do it recite stories about the Monkey King to help us figure out who this could be. And the person who did this might not even be an old enemy!"

"I ain't doin much either," Pigsy rebutted, gesturing over to the unlikely trio of ancient beings across from them. "They may be deferring to me for the final say, but I'm relying on what they tell me to make that choice." He moved, sitting beside the scholar without taking his hand off his shoulder. "So lets distract each other. Work on something else. Maybe whoever did this isn't an old enemy of ours, but maybe they are. Think of anyone who might still be around to hold a grudge and tell me their story."

Tang sat still for a few minutes instead of answering, just leaning into Pigsy and looking down at his shaking hands before they saw the shadow of a Bull Clone fall over the table. Pigsy recognized this one, the only one dressed in attire. A cape to be specific. PIF had introduced him as General Ironclad 2.0, one of the many recommissioned Bull Clones that had to be rebuilt after... The White Bone Spirit.

He placed a tray in front of the duo, two hot cups of tea and two sticks of Tanghulu candied fruit between them (and that was a strange sight, here in this cave, and Pigsy wondered if it was DBK or PIF who had a taste for the treat enough to just have it available like this). Like all the Bull Clones he said nothing, at least nothing that Pigsy or Tang could understand, and bowed before taking his leave.

Pigsy chanced a glance over to the working trio, catching DBK watching them from the corner of his eye. Wukong had a sad smile on his face as he talked while Iron Fan looked... well, he couldn't really tell. She didn't seem annoyed or frustrated, more confused than anything else as she glances up at her husband. DBK gave them a small nod before turning his gaze back to the map.

It was bizarre to him to see them like this. Sun Wukong without his overly enthusiastic smile and laugh or battle roar grimace. Princess Iron Fan without a scowl or a evil smirk of victory and cruelty. The Demon Bull King without his frustration and anger. Now working together for the first time in centuries, possibly ever to his knowledge as he had no idea whether or not Wukong and PIF ever actually did anything together with DBK before he was trapped under that mountain. He... he should have asked the person he once considered to be as close as a brother more about his life before. During the journey they took, before he vanished never to be seen or heard from for 500 years before showing up again just to give the kid he considered his son his mantle.

Maybe... maybe he wouldn't have left if he had.

There was no point dwelling on the past like this, however. Not now. Instead he picked up one of the tea cups and held it in his hands, the warmth not needed in the heat of the cave but still welcome. As welcome as the heat against his shoulder as Tang stayed leaning against him. In time he felt the man move in the same way, holding his own tea cup before taking a sip and sighing.

"You know..." He started slowly, reaching out to take a piece of candied fruit off the stick. The crunch was loud in the quiet of the cave and he spoke with his mouth full. "I have been thinking... Jin and Yin..." He swallowed, frowning. "They shouldn't really be here based on the stories I have learned. The Spider Queen too, I thought for the longest time she died with her sisters, until a few years before meeting her anyway And MK told us about... Macaque." Pigsy frowned deeper at the name, remembering those few days when the Monkie Kid had been run ragged and seemed easy to anger and more eager to please than usual making the tea taste bitter in his mouth. "And he shouldn't be around either. I have my theories, immortality and desires to return to what they were doing before their defeats and all that. But I was wondering..."

Tang paused, sipping his tea before choosing his words carefully.

"Maybe even more of your enemies.... aren't as dead as everyone thought they were?"

~

Yin scowled. That was the most he could do in his current state. Scowl at the door he was trapped behind.

If he tried he could have probably broken it down. But Princess Jade Face hadn't left. She could have, but he doubted it. She could have done a lot, but every time he tried to guess she hadn't.

He was so stupid...

He hadn't tried to talk his brother out of this arrangement, he hadn't stopped him from making her mad enough to use the smoke, he hadn't thought to check to make sure she was gone when they tried their escape plan.

He could have done so much but hadn't.

He wished his brother was there. It didn't feel right to be alone. They'd been together for as long as he could remember, they were twins after all. Sure, they had spent time apart, but never like this. Not like this. And Yin was cold and alone and Jin wasn't anywhere he could reach.

Yin was alone and he hurt everywhere.

It must have been the smoke itself. It wasn't like a truly hurtful pain, he was able to go about whatever he needed to do. It was a dull pain, like his entire body had been grabbed to harshly and squeezed all over. But he could do what he needed to, like eat. Princess Jade Face had even been "nice" enough to even give him food and water. Good food, surprisingly, meat buns that filled him up nice and good and made his stomach stop aching like it was going to devour him from the inside out.

That made him feel guilty. Jin hadn't eaten as long as he had. He hoped that she hadn't deactivated the part of the Calabash that would trick the person in it into thinking they weren't hungry... or maybe he should hope she had. He didn't like the idea of his brother slowly starving to death while he was filled up with good treats. If he hadn't remembered his brother yelling at him not to let good food go to waste all that time ago, before they managed to open their business and find something they were actually good at, the nausea he felt at that would have made his throat burn.

He wondered if she only fed him to keep him quiet.

It was pointless to think about that right now, though. It was pointless to worry about his brother.

He had to think of a plan. One that had more than two steps. One that actually worked for once in his damned life, one that would actually help them and get them somewhere than hurt and cold and alone and sad and in pain. Unlike all their other plans. Like with Sun Wukong. And MK in the Calabash. The race, though that one was fun.

The only other plan that had ever worked out for them was their job selling tech to other demons, but look where that got them now.

Yin winched as he grit his teeth and pain shot through his upper jaw, reaching up to the spot where one of them was now missing. Jade Face had come in to check on him and found him holding it. He had apparently hit himself hard enough on the way down to knock it out the last time she administered the smoke to his face.

It had already been chipped, weakened from another scrap the twins had gotten into with another demon. Yin wondered if his reflection would make him look like the younger twin he was now, with the gap in his smile.

Yin shook his head, curling in on himself and scowling at the door again.

He was so stupid...

But he would think of a way to get his brother back.

[officialleehadan]

Dance the Steps

“I’m no good at romance,” Julian whispered into Cami’s ear, a faint smile caught in the corner of his lips where the cameras were sure to pick it up. “How am I doing?”

“Oh, I’m sure they’re half-frantic to know what you’re saying to me,” Cami whispered back, barely able to suppress her giggles. They were at yet another of Julian’s seemingly-endless social events. The perils, he told her, of being unreasonably wealthy. He was expected to show his face as part of his company’s public relations. The press was, of course, unreasonably excited at the sight of the young billionaire and his mysterious girlfriend. “You should see the tabloids.”

Between the two of them, Julian and Sanderson made sure that Cami’s internet profile, never terribly large given her dedication to her dancing, was spotless. Not that there was much to find before they checked it over. Cami had never been one for internet drama, hated social media sites, and preferred to focus everything on her schooling. Her few pictures were from the occasional vacation and her frequent school performances.

The press was, naturally, fiendishly curious about her.

They were all enjoying it far too much.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on them,” Julian assured her. Now that she knew his secret, and covered for him when he needed it, these events had gone from uncomfortable to honestly fun. Even better, Julian learned quickly and was happy to dance with her whenever the music was right. It got him out of the press of the crowd, and Cami was always thrilled to dance. “You’ll be pleased to know that my public relations department is thrilled with me. We’ve been trending for almost three weeks now.”

Three weeks ago. What had happened three weeks ago? Oh. Right.

“When you showed up at the recital with an entire armload of roses?”

“The pictures are spectacular.”

That had been a great night. The performance went off perfectly, and Cami was delighted to discover Julian waiting as soon as she got out of costume. The aforementioned armload of roses was frankly extravagant, and the pictures hit the front page by the next morning.

Cami’s favorite captured the moment Julian pressed a barely-there kiss to her cheek, framed by roses. Julian’s hair was just long enough to fall in his eyes, and she had still bene in stage makeup with her hair pinned up.

The headlines had a field day, delighted by the contrast of her simple white hoodie and warm leggings to his perfectly-pressed suit. The way he smiled down at her, and how she leaned against his shoulder, tired but happy after her performance.

Sanderson laughed himself sick and teased them both relentlessly during their weekly inventions-yoga-and-plotting get-togethers. Julian, secure in the knowledge he could let his perfect facade fall around them, returned fire with the half-dozen stories that popped up about Sanderson’s supposed relationship with Cami and her reputation for being a gold-digger.

Cami, of course, flounced about dramatically like the disgraced damsel she was, and demanded to know why neither of her rich boyfriends were spoiling her the way she deserved. Clearly, she was the wronged party and her reputation was in shreds and they would just have to fight shirtless below her balcony for the right to marry her and save her from her own wicked ways.

Sanderson’s expression, that of profound distaste at the very thought of being in a relationship with anyone had made her laugh so hard water came out her nose. Julian, of course, stared at her in horror until he realized she was joking, and immediately started cursing as his own invention of the evening shocked him repeatedly.

It was good to have friends.

“I’m hoping we won’t be big news after a while,” Julian said honestly. The waltz was a simple one, and they had learned early on that dancing was the only way to get away from the crowds. “I’m just waiting for some other scandal to hit, and we can fade into the background a little. Not that I’m not enjoying this, but it’s a lot of effort.”

“But more fun than dealing with the busybodies and the fangirls?”

“Watch out for them. They’re determined and some of them are still mad that I’m not remaining the ‘untouchable ice prince’ or whatever they’ve decided to call me this week.”

Worth considering. Sanderson didn’t have any fangirls, besides the truly desperate gold-diggers who stalked anyone with a few million to throw around, but he had the benefit of being kind of odd. If someone bothered him, he just stopped trying to seem normal, and went right off the deep end of weird. It was remarkably effective at getting rid of anyone who thought that the strange, quiet genius was an easy mark.

“What do you say to a getaway?” Cami asked as the dance was winding down. “Your secretary told me that she’s been trying to get you to take a break for months.”

“Where do you want to go?” Julian asked, only a little wary by habit. Cami didn’t take it personally. He trusted her, but there were some things that would only fade with time. “And how long? I can’t be gone longer than a day or two.”

“Sanderson’s parents are having their yearly Fireworks and Food bash for the fourth of July up at their property.” she explained, and took his arm when he offered it. Tonight’s dress was just above the knee, barely loose enough to dance in, and showed off her sky-high sparkling heels magnificently. The shoes, which were surprisingly comfortable to dance in, were also a hazard on carpet, where they tended to catch. “You’ve met them, yeah? It’ll be all about awesome food, campfires, and swimming in the lake. The property has six cottages and a six-room cabin.”

He thought about it. Cami kissed his cheek, something they were both getting comfortable with as they settled into their fake relationship, and went to get them both glasses of champagne.

“I could get away for a weekend,” he told her when she came back, and barely raised a brow when she decided to sit in his lap, rather than a chair. A camera flashed in their direction, and Cami ignored it. “Sanderson dragged me to one of their parties back in college. I haven’t been since then.”

“Didn’t want to go, or didn’t have time?”

“Didn’t have time. It was fun, although there was a lot of people. I’m not sure I want to be around a crowd for a whole weekend.”

“Up to you. There’s no pressure, but you’re invited if you think it sounds like fun. I’m going either way.”

He thought about it some more. Lone enough for a handful of other businessmen to come and go, each of them fishing for gossip, their eyes on the arm Julian wrapped around Cami’s waist when she started to slip off his lap. They were all a bunch of drama hounds, in Cami’s opinion, and she shared classes with people who were literally training in drama.

“It sounds like fun,” Julian told her when the last of the men wandered off, curiosity thoroughly unfulfilled. “When do we go?”

+++

Ballet Heels:

Camille fought and bled to get into Julliard.

Julian fought and bled to build his company into what it is.

He needs a dance partner, and it so happens, she’s good at ballroom.

Cut a Dance Floor

Shuriken Toaster

Agreement in Paper

Friends and Rivals

Arm in Arm (Subscriber Only!)

Secret Steps (Free on Patreon!)

+++

More Stories!

+++

[storiesfromtheeye]

Habit

I’ve always had a habit of cracking my knuckles. Well, not always. When I was younger, I wasn’t able to do it at all. In fact the most impressive I could do was the occasional snap of my toes when I scrunched them up in the early morning. But as I grew older, I watched the people around me more and more. I was young, just starting high school. Of course I wanted to fit in. So I would try. At first all that happened was a rather unimpressive pop from one finger on my left hand. But as the days stretched longer and longer, I found I had built up quite a habit. Now I struggle to make it through a day where I don’t hear the satisfying crack. I can do it with one hand. One finger pushing on another. I think I saw it in a movie or tv-show once.

I was used to accidentally cracking my knuckles too loud. Once in the middle on an exam, the entire row turned to look at me. It’s ironic really; the thing that I learned to fit in had made me stand out even more. Not that I minded too much, I loved things that I could talk about. I could make a story from any little inconvenience. I think that if I had better social skills and charisma, I might have pursued quite a successful career in stand up comedy. But that was not the case. No, instead all I had were funny little tales to tell my friends and an annoying childhood habit to carry with me.

It was on one such occasion that it happened. It was a summer night, still air that hung thick with warm damp, promising rain to come. I never slept well on those nights. I always felt like I was on holiday, the first night in a new country. The pillow would feel too soft or too high and the mattress would make your shoulders stiff by the next morning, giving little chance of a restful night. They would always be what I would blame for the bags under my eyes or my sour attitude once the sun had risen. But that was only because I knew those issues could be fixed. The worst thing was, and always would be in my mind, the heavy humid air. Night air is not supposed to be warm. Night air should not hang but be blown by the wind, cutting through the people on the streets below and letting central heating and large blankets protect those inside. But at least on holiday, you could find a fan of sorts close by. And when that was running, you could feel the tip of your nose turn to ice and then bundle up in your covers as it should be. And at least on holiday, that kind of weather isn’t unusual.

You see, unusually warm or cold weather does something to houses, or at least houses like mine. It causes them to shift slightly. To the point where stairways will creak with nothing on them, and window frames will crack like a bullwhip; startling you from sleep. An old house settling is normal, but the dark and alien feeling of the night air on your skin sends your mind into havoc. Each sound is a killer, every stray movement in the corner of your vision is a spirit. And each time you slip off, on the cusp of dreaming, your mind convinces you that those strange black figures in your mind’s eye are right behind you. I hated it.

So I was up late, using a thin hardback book as a fan, while I scrolled mindlessly through some social media site or other. My body was so tired. I could feel my muscles, aching from the run I had been on earlier in the day. My eyes were half open and I had convinced myself that if I closed one eye at a time they would stop feeling like lead. I wanted nothing more than the climb under my bedsheet and drift off to sleep. But something stopped me. Perhaps it was the beginning of the Insomnia I was diagnosed with a few months after this. Perhaps it was something else. It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that I was awake and mindlessly, as I so often did then, cracked three fingers on my right hand in quick succession. I thought nothing of it until I heard the accompanying crack of the windows in the house settling. I didn’t think of it as being an echo of my own actions. I think I more saw it as expected. I had allowed for noise to exist so late into the night when usually there would be nothing. It made me jump, slightly. And I was very aware of the fact that if there was anyone awake in the house, they would know I was awake too.

It was a strange, unbidden thought. And I dismissed it out of hand. I was always paranoid at night. There was a certain danger to being awake too late. As a child that danger had been my parents. I had been caught once or twice reading well past midnight and it hadn’t taken long for me to learn that it was far better to finish the chapter tomorrow than to risk leaving the light on and being found out. I suppose that stuck with me into young adulthood. Maybe pop culture helped too. Bad things always seem to happen after midnight. They were right. At least in my case.

I was really struggling to stay awake now. Deciding it was time to hit the hay, I stretched myself out from the crouched position I had been in. I felt a few small pop’s in my lower back. And then, almost immediately after, I heard the sound of the walls in the house settling. The wood creaking a crude imitation of me. Though strangely, the sound seemed much further off than it should have. That was enough to make me keep the light on, regardless of the electricity bill I was trying so hard to stay on top of. It was hard to sleep in the harsh yellow light, but at least I felt safe. As I fell into unconsciousness, I could convince myself it was daytime and that I was dozing off peacefully under the midday sun.

When I woke up, it was early morning. Not too early, maybe 5am or so. There was knocking on my door, harsh and abrupt. The kind that expects an answer. So I pulled myself out of bed and opened it. A police officer stood there. He looked much too serious for the time of morning and if he was shocked or embarrassed by seeing a woman in boxers and a sheer T-shirt open the door, he didn’t show it.

“Sorry to wake you, miss” he said. “There’s been an incident last night. We was wondering if you’d seen anything.”

I grumbled out some half coherent sentences saying I “hadn’t heard anything“ and “did he know what time it was?” and that this was a “very nice neighbourhood so what could really be so bad?”

Apparently when I had been busy trying not to pass out at my computer, two young women had been attacked when walking home from a night out. Apparently they had been at a friend’s house and decided to leave around 2am. When they were making their way home someone had followed. That someone had smashed the fingers of the first girl and then pushed the second where she had fractured her spine. I saw the photos online later. And I remember thinking how strange it was that the police had determined the attacker had used a hammer. Because the bones of the first girl had been broken completely, but there was no bruising at all on the skin. It was a healthy, fresh pink with no visible wounds at all. Even the skin stretched over the bone that had impaled the middle of her hand seemed healthy.

That had been...unnerving. They never caught the guy. My mum had called to tell me, very sternly, that I was to take a taxi home whenever I was out too late, no matter how drunk I felt. And that was really the extent to which it affected my life. It seems cruel to say but I never thought about those girls except when they were brought up in conversation. Then I would get to tell my story of being woken up by a burly policeman and questioned. It was fun, to insert yourself into a narrative. Even if you did somewhat belong. But the character of bystander always needs some embellishing. And my friends all knew that.

Then, before I knew it, it was another humid night. And I was up late again. It had been a sunny few days but that day had been the first warm one. Very warm in fact. I remember thinking it was perfect weather for a summer gala. It was much the same as last time. I was lost in my thoughts scrolling through some blog and then absentmindedly cracked my shoulders. Well maybe not absentmindedly...It was like an itch. Something that begged you to pay attention, something you couldn’t ignore. So I didn’t. I had no reason too.

This time I heard the scream outside my bedroom window. My first reaction seems silly in retrospect. I hid. Under the covers. I pulled them tight around me and held still, waiting for something to happen. I was scared of course. A man was screaming right outside of my home, and it was a bloodcurdling scream. I’ve never heard anything like it. I don’t want to hear anything like it again. And what if some crazed lunatic had done something to him? What if it was the same man that had attacked the girls. What if...he saw me look out of the window and came for me.

My mind has trouble at times from distinguishing the possible from the impossible. Or at least the very improbable. Even so, after a long few minutes, the screaming hadn’t stopped. I told myself I had to look. Because if this man was suffering, I had to know so I could call an ambulance. Or perhaps the police.

I don’t know what I expected when I pulled back the curtain. I think I at least expected blood. There wasn’t any. What there was, at first glance, was a normal man lying on the pavement. He looked a bit pale but that might have just been the moonlight. I was ready to lean out the window and tell him to shut up. I was so tired and he was so loud and fearful and quite honestly I did not want to hear some crazy man scream for no good reason. It’s as I opened the window and leaned forward that I saw what was wrong. And it was very wrong.

His shoulder seemed to be cut in half. And not a clean half. There were jagged pierced of what I could only assume were bone jutting out of the skin at strange angles. It seemed as though his arm had been grabbed and then pushed upwards while the rest of his body had remained completely still, some of the bone going through his shoulder, stretching his skin to below his ear. The rest had been forced through his collarbone, creating a terrifying picture of skin was stretched impossibly across a mosaic of shattered bone. No fall could’ve done this. This was deliberate. Some psycho must have came at this poor man with a shovel or a sledgehammer or something. And then left him to die, to bleed out on the streets.

And then I remembered. The horror had taken me away from my first observation. I was so sure this man’s injuries would kill him. There was no blood anywhere. No wounds. Just the awful contortion of his upper body. It didn’t seem possible.

It was there, leaning out through my bedroom window, that I felt it. An itching. It started at the middle of my shoulder blades and crawled up further, becoming more insistent. I don’t know why I tried to ignore it. I had no reason to believe anything bad could happen from cracking my back.Maybe it was the shock from what I was seeing. I couldn’t indulge in a stupid habit when there was a man below me who so clearly should be dead. Instead I let it travel up further and further until it surrounded my neck. And stopped.

I gasped. I must have been quiet before, observing in shocked silence. It was the first noise I had made. The man look up at me. The action looked painful and he had not stopped screaming, though it had gotten quieter. Perhaps he was losing his voice. It was as he looked up at me that I felt the itch grow stronger. I needed to crack my neck. I needed to in the way that you need to breathe. No matter how long you hold your breath, it’s an eventuality that at some point, you have to breathe. The feeling gripped me, and I suddenly had a terrible, terrible feeling about this.

I stared back at the man who had gone quiet. His eyes were filled with undiluted fear. I watched those eyes follow my shaking arm as it gripped the side of my head firmly. And pulled.

There was a stunningly loud crack. One I hadn’t expected. It echoed around the room. My gaze hadn’t left the man who was lying there. It never left. Not even as the bones in his neck popped out of place and shattered. One by one. Even as the pieces drove themselves into his spinal cord and blood vessels and windpipe. He was breathing faster and faster, sucking those hard little fragments into his lungs where they tore away at his insides. I did not move as he spluttered dark red and made a sound no human should be able to make with their voice box intact. Looking back, I don’t think it was.

He collapsed in a heap, half on the road, blood leaking from his mouth and nose. And still I could not turn away. Because his neck was still convulsing. I could still see the bones shift and push through muscle, stretching the skin. And then finally, after what might have been hours, it stopped. And I could be sure he was dead.

The ambulance arrived after a woman on a jog had found him, or so the police told me. I told them I hadn’t been awake. I had no idea what had happened. They said other neighbours had been woken up by the screams, why wasn’t I? I told them how heavy a sleeper I was, and a classic family story of how my mother had slept through an actual hurricane. They exchanged looks. As if they were not in the mood to listen to a chatterbox at 6am on a Sunday morning.

They let me go. Of course they did. There was no evidence to convict me. Still, I laid in my bed for days afterwards. Fighting the urge to cry or scream. Constantly fighting the urge to crack my aching back.

I know better now. I know that if I keep busy, I can keep my mind off the itching. I moved as well. To a small run down cottage in the country. Very far away from anyone else. I have to leave an hour before my work to get there on time now, but that’s okay. I think this thing has a radius of sorts. The closest person is affected. But if there is no-one close, I don’t think it does anything.

That’s not to say there haven’t been accidents. People out walking on horribly warm summer nights. How am I to know they’re there until it’s much too late? People tend to avoid coming close anyway. The stories of mangled dog walkers are enough to keep the young kids away. The pictures do the trick for everyone else.

I am trying to stop. I don’t crack my knuckles much anymore. I don’t crack anything much. It’s only when that insatiable need crawls across my skin that I do. I have to leave work sometimes and drive home just to crack a few fingers. Once or twice I haven’t made it that far. I have learned to keep a looser grip on the steering wheel now. So it can’t be said that I’m not trying. But even now, my whole body itches and shudders and I can’t help but hear the soothing pop of joints as they ease up again. And it is so very soothing. As I said, it’s a habit. And a habit is a very hard thing to break.

[paintedrecs]

For the fandom talk meme thingy: C (not trying to start drama I swear), I, K, R, and X. =D

C - A ship you have never liked and probably never will.

Hmmm, there are a few ways of answering this. One is by listing all my NOTPs, which would be excessively long and ultimately boring because it essentially boils down to “anyone else with either member of my OTP.” I monoship my primary pairings, so I’m pretty strict on what I do and do not like. 

(With the way fandom is now, I should clarify that NOTP means that I personally do not like a ship and I therefore go out of my way to avoid it - by muting terms, carefully filtering tags and search results, curating my own space, etc. It doesn’t mean I think the ship is badwrong or that anyone else should stop shipping it. It just means I do not ever want to see it.)

This feels a little less specific on that front, though, maybe more just: people like this and I’m meh about it?

So Allydia comes to mind. I don’t hate it, and if the Sterek’s good enough I’ll still read a fic with them as a background pairing, but I don’t ever like it as a romantic ship. While I ship Lydia with lots of different characters, including Cora, I’ve always seen Allison as straight, so I suppose that’s part of it? And I love Lydia & Allison as bffs - I see them as entirely platonic, like Scott & Stiles, so introducing romance just doesn’t work for me.

Another one is Sheriff Stilinski/Peter Hale. I...I don’t understand it. Unlike the last answer, this background pairing will prevent me from reading a Sterek-central fic.

I - Has Tumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why?

This turned into a complicated and kind of roundabout answer, so I’m putting the rest of the questions under a long-post cut!

I stopped frequenting tumblr for two main reasons:

that whole weird purge thing that made me think everyone was leaving, so I just gave up, which might’ve been premature cause it seems like folks are still going strong on here

the emergence of antis, specifically within the Voltron fandom (although they’re everywhere at this point)

There’s a saying in fandom now: 

“Why is the younger fandom generation like this?!??” “Tumblr raised them.”

For me, for years, tumblr was a really wonderful space where I had a lot of great conversations and read very thoughtful threads that helped me to learn some important things about myself, other people, and a world much wider than my own.

But I was an adult when I joined this site, and it really does seem like there’s a whole new crop of kids who have no actual context for ideas like social justice, the need for canonical representation in our media, and a lot of other things that eventually got folded into a big ball of disconnected rhetoric that they now fling as hard as they can at the heads of fandom creators who are committing the ultimate sin of creating content for ships they don’t like.

It’s late, and I don’t feel like getting into a whole Essay Rant about all that.

So on an entirely personal level, I quit running appreciatejack (my Check Please/zimbits/Jack Zimmermann blog) because someone sent me really vile hate for daring to ship Shiro/Keith from Voltron (two unrelated adults in a cartoon). It’s why I turned my ask boxes/anon/chats off on most of my blogs, and then eventually just...got tired of running them.

When I started up appreciatederek, I got a couple asks from people who wanted to know if it was going to be multiship or just Sterek, and when I said it was Sterek, they presumably went off to find other things they were into, because I never heard from them again. Y’know, the reasonable reaction. And then the rest of it was wonderful: finding content for it, and getting responses from people who enjoyed that content.

I thought appreciateshiro would be similar, but it was all so messy from the very start. The Sheith tag was FULL of hate. I was initially checking it every day, trying to find artists and writers and gif-makers to reblog and encourage and support, like I’d done in Sterek fandom, but instead I’d spend literal hours blocking people who came into that tag just to talk about how much they hated the ship.

Every day, I’d look for content for my OTP, and every day I’d come away from it angry and sad and frustrated. I never seemed to run out of people to block. And they never, ever seemed to run out of hate.

It was exhausting. It made me reluctant to go on tumblr at all. And eventually I just...sorta stopped.

So the answer to this question is more, I guess, “fandom made me stop liking tumblr, and in the process I stopped liking most fandoms.”

I’m sure you can kinda tell from the fandoms I’m currently the most invested in.

I love Sterek, and I will always love Sterek. Part of that’s the ship itself, of course, and part is because I had an incredible fandom experience with it. People within this fandom are still really great - always so welcoming and super excited about new content, even so many years on.

Otherwise, my current fandoms are kiiiiinda tiny:

Xanatowen (Gargoyles), which currently consists of exactly 2 people and 12 fics (3 of which are mine).

Trevorcard (Castlevania), which only has ~200 fics on AO3.

Taibani (Tiger & Bunny), which is an oldish fandom with only ~600 fics on AO3.

Remember, I came from a fandom that has SIXTY THOUSAND fics.

So while I feel very lonely and very sad about the low content levels in these fandoms, they’ve also given me the space to let go of some of my fandom hurt & anger and remember what it’s like to just...peacefully love something. I really miss just loving things and talking about loving those things and searching for other people who also love those things without running into....thousands upon thousands of people who HATE that you love that thing.

(Until I wrote all that out just now, I actually hadn’t realized how much this had still been hanging over me, or why I was so hesitant to come back to “reclaim” a space I’d once been super active and happy in. Essay over! Next questions.)

K - What character has your favorite development arc/the best development arc?

Answered here!

R - Which friendship/platonic relationship is your favorite in fandom?

Answered here! 

X - A trope which you are almost certain to love in any fandom.

Found family. This is probably a big part of why Sterek was my first real fandom, because the idea of Pack makes it incredibly natural to build out relationships beyond just the central romantic pairing. 

It doesn’t have to be a werewolf thing, though. I’m honestly not hugely fond of the whole puppy piles concept - I’m less interested in “biological urges make characters literally physically all snuggle up together in bed” than I am in the actual build of the friendships, and the concept of choosing people who will become the family you’ve been missing for whatever reason.

Maybe it’s reconnecting with biological family, or maybe it’s discovering that your friends have been filling that space for you all along, without you even fully realizing it. (The concept of “home” is another big one for me. Home is where your heart is etc etc.)

And hey! Now I can pull back in another question from earlier: about “pairings” that I might not have initially considered. As I suspected, I do have more! Mostly platonic.

For instance: Derek and Sheriff Stilinski becoming bffs. I thiiiink I can probably tie my ABSOLUTE LOVE of this concept back to HalfFizzbin’s can't be hateful, gotta be grateful. And then Cupboard Love really has to be the source of ALL my alive!Hales feels, which also includes folding Stiles into their family.

Fic is largely responsible for building out Derek’s relationship with Boyd, Erica, Isaac, his sisters...making them into an actual pack and friends and family in the way the show never bothered. And frankly while I don’t like canon!Scott at all at this point, I love his friendship with Stiles in fics, and I absolutely believe Stiles and Lydia would be amazing friends once he got past his crush on her. I’d point to another fic here, owlpostagain’s will to follow through, as the ultimate source for major Team Human feels.

So yeah. I’m always going to be drawn to stories about family, in whatever form that takes, particularly if it’s one that’s a little bit off the normal white-picket-fence path.

In Tiger & Bunny, it’s Barnaby joining the Kaburagi family, and learning how to be a dad and a friend to his new husband’s daughter.

In Gargoyles, I’m completely obsessed with the (canonical!) idea of a family that consists of a man, his wife, their son, and the chaotically loyal fae babysitter/tutor/third parent. It is not a stretch to tweak this the tiiiiiiniest bit to turn it into a nontraditional family structure of a man, his wife, his son, and his fae boyfriend. Honestly.

In Castlevania, the fic that made me sob my eyes out at one point does something the show would absolutely never. It gives Alucard the time to rebuild his physical home while befriending the people in the little town that crops up around it. It’s about Trevor and Alucard falling in love, but it’s also about them making a place for themselves in a world where that kind of comfort and stability and friendship is so badly needed.

I think we all kinda need that in our world right now. So I love being able to find it in fic, for the characters who’ve grown to mean something to me.

[jenni42085]

Nervous <Three>

Chapter 3

Lena looks at herself in the mirror, the dress was a little too loose but knew Edna would fix it to fit her like a glove, but otherwise felt beautiful.  “What do you think?” Edna asks from outside the dressing room curtain.

Edna adjusts her glasses and looks at the shy girl who is slowly getting her confidence back.  “This is the dress you should be wearing.  I adore this on you!”  

“You really think so?”

“I made it didn’t I?  I figured this would be better for you.”  Edna replies as she puts a few pins in Lena’s dress to have it fit her like a glove.  She wants Lena to look amazing not only for her image but to know she helped Chris and Lena fall in love.  

Lena does a quick twirl and looks at herself at the three mirrors.  Ok so maybe Edna was right.  She felt like a princess in Edna’s black A-Line short strapless beaded sweetheart cocktail dress.  “Whoa.”  The two women stopped when Chris came in.  “You look wow.  Edna, this dress looks awesome on her.”

“Oh I know darling.  I do great work.  Anyways, Lena take it off so I can have it ready for you by tomorrow ok?”

“Sure thing.”  Lena said happily as she goes back into the dressing room to change into the clothes she wore in.

“So you like what you see?”  Edna asks.

Hearing Edna’s voice snaps Chris out of staring at Lena as she disappears behind the curtain.  “Ohhh, just admiring the beautiful work that you do.”

“Right.  Keep pretending.”  Edna replies as she goes to the clothes rack.  “So is she going with you to your movie premiere?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure she is unless otherwise.  Why?”

“SPLENDID!!  I have the perfect dress for her to wear.  I’ll bring that by the night of the event.  I’ll have a team to get her ready for both events.”

“You don’t have to do that for me or her.”

“Ohh I know, but I want too.  I like her and I think she will be good for you and vice versa.”

Chris nodded his head and made a mental note.

**************************************************************************************************************

The ride back to Marylea’s place was relatively quiet, but not in a bad way, both were in their own little world.  At one point Chris places his hand of Lena’s leg and she doesn’t tense she just places her hand on his and gives him a reassuring squeeze and a small smile.  Maybe I could get use to this, Lena thought.  Chris went on to tell her about the event they would be attending tomorrow evening.  It might not be so bad but, she wonders how life will be once Eevee is here.  She wonders if her daughter will adjust ok this next month or so in a strange new place.  Granted she and Marylea would be there she is slightly nervous about introducing her to a new guy.  

Again she jumped out the car before Chris could open the door for her.  She does as she did the day before and gave him a hug and quick peek on the cheek.

**************************************************************************************************************

Heading home, Chris realizes that he has some homework on his hands.  He knows more about Lena than he did the day before but he realizes that Marylea is right, he needs to know more.  So he figures he would add her on everything possible on line and then just read.  

Her Instagram and Twitter were the easiest to get access to since no approval was needed.  He has come to learn that she is a nerdy girl with a love of politics, cooking, and her family.  She has a huge love for French Bulldogs, Star Wars, Harry Potter, Dr Who, and of course The Avengers to name a few.  After further inspection he now knows she has total of nineteen tattoos but are skillfully hidden.  Can’t wait to see them in person.

Eevee is an adorable little girl who has the admiration of her mother by all the things she posts, he could not deny how much she looks like Lena.  The thing that stuck in his mind wasn’t the sadness of her post after Ezra’s death because that was a given, but how absolutely beautiful she was pregnant.  With his sister being pregnant a few times she never had the glow that Lena had.  

She has something about her that he just can’t describe, but he likes her … a lot.  He honestly can’t wait to see her tomorrow at the charity dinner.  The dress Edna picked for her was absolutely stunning.  He wondered if he should send someone to pamper her before Edna and her team go over.

**************************************************************************************************************

After getting inside, Lena Face-timed her parents and made a few funny faces at Eevee and got her daily update.  She isn’t old enough to talk but she has managed ‘mum’ and ‘bye’.  Only a few more days then I will have her with me.  As much as she has enjoyed her ‘alone time’, she miss her little girl terribly.  

She lays back in the tub full of bubbles and just unwinds.  Her mind drifts to Ezra for a bit and how much she misses him but then her mind then drifts to her few days here and Chris.  Part of her tries to redirect her thoughts but they go back to his beautiful blue eyes and his adorable and contagious laugh.  She realizes that in the last year she hasn’t laughed as much since her few days with him in her life.  The only thought that really bothers her is what will everyone think, even though they aren’t official on any level but, she worries what will her in-laws and family think.  She pushes the thoughts to the back burner and goes back to thoughts of Chris.  I’ll worry about it when I see them.

“So are you excited for tomorrow night?”  Marylea asks as she hands Lena a plate for dinner.  

“Slightly excited but nervous.”

“Why nervous?”

“Why not nervous?  This isn’t my scene.”

“Maybe not but I think he likes you so stop worrying about others, worry about you and Eevee and happiness.”  Marylea says as she puts food on Lena’s plate.  The two sat across from each other in the dinning room.  

“Yes I know.  I’m working on it.  It is harder than it looks trust me.  So when is your room mate coming back?”

“Not for another few months.  She is off traveling Europe with her new boyfriend.  Thank God, I like her but sometimes she is a HUGE diva.  But she is traveling so maybe that will get her attitude right.”

“Must be nice to travel with someone you love.”

“I know right BUT, I already know it won’t last very long.”  Lena looks at her with a curious expression.  “None of her relationships last long.  Generally it might be 2 to 4 months then suddenly they are done with her or vice versa.”

Lena takes a bite of her meatball and shakes her head.  “Can’t imagine going through men that quickly.  Even before Ezra I was never like that.  But I guess it is nice to be desired.”

“Everything comes with a price.”

“That it does.  So what’s on the agenda for tonight?”

“I was thinking we could hit up a dance class like we use to do before I moved.”

Lena looks at her and a huge smile spreads across her face.  “OMG yesss!!  I haven’t done a class in like two years.  I wonder if we still have it?”

“Ma’am we will never lose it.  If you don’t have any clothes to dance in you can borrow mine.”

**************************************************************************************************************

After the two hour long dance that was tiring but refreshing the two came home and got into the baby pool Marylea had put in her back patio. Yes, she had a pool on site but sometimes a girl just wants to drink and soak with out people bothering her. 

“I told you, you still got it. You were really working it during ‘Buttons’.”

Lena chuckles as she pulls out her phone and scrolls through pictures of Eevee. I miss that little face. “Look, I can’t help it if some of the moves were from that class back home. It felt good to feel sexy again. And I still can’t believe Scarlett was in class with us and I did better than her!”

Marylea nods her head in agreement and sinks down further in the water. “Yeah, sorry that I forgot to mention she would be there. But she is hella down to earth right?”

“You would be correct.  Kind of shocking. I guess a thing I wasn’t expecting was that she didn’t look too shocked when you mentioned me and Chris. Maybe I am his type.  Do you ever miss home?”

“More than you realize some days. I like knowing that I’ll have the opportunity to do my dream but some days I miss coming over and doing girl’s night.” Marylea replies as she considers asking Lena why anyone would be shocked about her and Chris, they mesh well.

Lena looks at her phone only half hearing her, “Oh geez!”

“Well, I’m sorry for being honest.”

“No, it’s not you. It’s the fact that Mr. Evans is pretty much following me on all of my social media forums.”

“Is that a bad?” Marylea questions drinking her frozen margarita. 

“No, not really but . . .”

“But what?” Marylea takes a gulp then stretches all the way out in the pool. “He likes you and is trying to know everything he can about you. Go with the flow and enjoy.”

“Yes yes. He even added me on Snap.”

“Good.  Let him see sexy Lena. Think about how you felt dancing tonight.”

“Marylea. . .”

She takes her phone from Lena. “We aren’t going to be shy all the time.”  Marylea waited until Lena turned her back towards her grabbing her drink and showed off her booty and Marylea quickly took a pretty picture of it.

“Did you just take a picture of my butt?”  Lena questions drunkly while flipping over in the pool. 

“Nah.”

“Ok good. Let’s turn so music on so I can relearn how to be sexy for tomorrow night.”  Lena says with a giggle as she strikes a pose with out realizing that Marylea is using her Snapchat app to take pictures and send a few to Chris.

**************************************************************************************************************

Chris was awoken by a few snaps on his phone. Lenagirl42085. Lena was snapping him at eleven at night. Normally he would have waited until the morning but something told him to look at them real time.  And he wasn’t upset that her pictures woke him up. It was pictures of her and Marylea in an inflatable pool. From the looks of things Marylea was taking all the pictures. 

They had on one piece outfits but Lena’s swimsuit caught his attention. The neon pink really brought out her brown skin. The words ‘Happy Camper’ were across her chest. She seemed carefree, happy, relaxed, and sexy. 

The first few pictures were cute, but the last one really caught his attention, her back was towards the camera. He knew she had a cute butt but wow it was perfectly round and he could see her Hello Kitty lower back tattoo showing. While he is always a gentleman seeing that shot made him want her in other ways.  As much as he knew that he shouldn’t but he went ahead and saved the pictures for his personal album. 

He noticed a text from Scarlett, which wasn’t odd but the message is what threw him off was the message and the video attached:

I met your new girl Lena and she is amazingly awesome and a wonderful dancer!  I totally approve!  

Attached was a video of Scarlett, Marylea, and Lena dancing to ‘Buttons’ by the Pussycat Dolls. Lena was in the center in some short short black shorts. She started out with a sports bra and flannel shirt on but then throws it mid dance. While the five girls dancing together looked great his eyes were glued to Lena.  She was absolute captivating.

Lena so far has never displayed that level of confidence or sex appeal with him. So far it has been shy and sweet. Good to know she knows how to get down and dirty.  He wants more time with her but not sure how to get her to spend more time.  He doesn’t want to take her away from Marylea but at the same time he just needs to know her more.  Before he went back to bed he lets Dodger out and shoots Lena a text to see if she wants to do before the charity dinner. 

**************************************************************************************************************

“Oh. My. God!!! Why is there someone else stuff in my bedroom?”  Someone yelled from the back room at Marylea’s apartment. 

The screaming made Marylea and Lena jump out of their sleep. “Shit.” Marylea says as she quickly gets up. “It seems like my room mate Julie is back from Europe a lot sooner than expected.”

Julie stomps into the room with her sunglasses in hand looking frustrated. “Who is this?  Did you rent out my room?”

“No, I didn’t rent out your room. My best friend Lena is here. Remember I asked you if she could use your room a few weeks ago.”  Marylea sighs and pulls out her phone and scrolls through a few messages on her phone then hands the phone to let Julie see. 

Julie looks at the message and shakes her head. “I still don’t remember. I just need my room back. And her not to be here when I wake up from my nap.  Please and thank you.” She states is a rude tone. 

“Fine I’ll get my stuff. Sorry for the inconvenience.” Lena replies while stretching and starts gathering her things from Julie’s room. Now what....

After she gets the last few things out of the room Julie looks her up and down and tosses her bleached blonde hair back. “I hope nothing is missing and everything is in the same spot where I left it.”

Lena rolls her eyes and tries to think of where she is going to stay next.  The idea of a hotel sounds so pricey same goes for AirB&B.  Her whole reason for coming out there was because she would be saving money by staying with Marylea.  Something will have to open up for her..  

After her shower she is still in a fog of where not only she but Eevee will stay when she comes into town.  Unnecessary stress.  As she was heading out of the bathroom she heard a familiar voice.  “Chris?”  He turns around and gives her a big smile as she is standing there in a towel.  “What are you doing here?”

“Well I figured we would do lunch or maybe a spa before the dinner tonight.”

Lena pulls the towel tighter and gives him a half smile, “As much as I would love to, I have to find another place to stay.”

“Why?”

“Marylea’s room mate came back and has conveniently ‘forgotten’ that I was going to be here for a month.”

Marylea chimes in as she sees her friend’s face fall.  “Yeah, I’m livid because she was cool with it one moment and now she suddenly wants her gone.   I get wanting to have your room back but asking her to leave really goes through me.”

Chris looks concerned as Lena wipes a single tear from her face.  “Well….”

“Do you TWO not understand that I’m tired from my trip and ….”  Julie shouts coming out of her bedroom until she notices that everyone including Chris are giving her a dirty look.  “OH MY!  Chris Evans.  Marylea why didn’t you tell me we had company or I would have made myself more presentable.”  Julie saunters over to Chris does a hair toss and her best pouty girl look.  

Lena looks tense at the idea that someone else may try to get his attention but knows if they weren’t meant to be then they weren’t meant to be.  Chris looks extremely disgusted as she offers his hand to her to kiss but he just shakes it and then shifts is attention back to Lena who was heading back to Marylea’s bedroom to change.  She does her usual routine and comes out in black capri leggings and a cold shoulder teal shirt with a high ponytail and bare feet.

Chris and Marylea were still sitting on the couch where she left them, while Julie was still talking about her trip to Europe on the loveseat.  Neither looked thrilled or excited but what Julie had to say but both perked up when Lena came out dressed with the same melancholy expression.  

“So, while you were getting dressed, I was doing some thinking.”  Chris started.

Lena sits on the coffee table in front of him since there was no where else to sit.  “Ok….should I be worried?”

“Nah, I was thinking since you can't stay here with Marylea, you can stay with me at my house.  It's a 3 bedrooms, 4 baths, a pool, spa, big backyard, and a pool with a huge gate.  You wouldn't have to see me if you don't want to with no worries of then paparazzi like you would have here and you can use one my cars."

Hearing this makes Lena relax, she bites her lip and looks at the shocked expression of Marylea and Julie.  “Ummmm.”  She knows she has no other choice and this isn’t exactly a bad one, it just means a little less time with Marylea granted she knows given the circumstances she would understand.  “Yeah, I think that would be ok.  Are you sure I won’t cramp your style?”

“Absolutely not, it’s generally Dodger and I at night which can be very lonely and boring.”

“What about Eevee, she sometimes doesn’t sleep all night, I wouldn’t want her to bother you.”

“Lena, I’ve got nieces AND nephews, I’m sure your daughter will be no trouble.  Plus I already have some baby things there so if you don’t have it I more than likely have it.”

“But Chris….”  Lena began to say trying to think quick of what other option she really has.

Julie once again interrupts the conversation, “I don’t think you should offering a place to her, there are plenty of hotels in the area.  You don’t her kid to bug you.”

Everyone in the room gives her a dirty look.  Chris grabs Lena’s hands and gives her a sincere look, “Just stay with me, if you or Eevee don’t like it then you guys can try something else.  Ok?’

Lena sighs heavily mentally weighing her options.  “Fine, I’ll try living with you a few days to see how it goes.”

Chris claps his hands together, smiles, and stands up.  “Wonderful!  Since that is settled lets get your stuff to my place then we can head to the spa.  Marylea, I think Jeff said it was your day off, feel free to join us at the spa.  My treat.”

“What about me?  Can I come?”  Julie says tossing her hair one more time.

“No, we will let you catch up on your precious trip.  I’ll get my stuff out quietly so you can get your beauty rest.”  Lena says with a small smirk.  Chris and Marylea snickered while Julie quickly turned around and stomped to her room and slams the door.  Lena looks at them and smiles, “That has never felt so good.  I think I’m ready to be pampered.”

Marylea and Chris both smile at Lena's take charge attitude.  Maybe setting her up with him wasn't a bad idea after all.  Marylea thinks to herself as she ties up her shoes before grabbing Lena's things to put in Chris' car.  

[hjh-ceilo-monster]

Uturn : bts ot 7

Summary : Living with the boys for months wasn’t tha bad. You started feeling to attach with them so did they. However, one day everthine changed. You arrived their dorm and opened the door. Little do you know, you crossed the boarder back to the start.

Author POV.

“Hi guys, I’m back.” You walk through the door with some grocery bags. Today you and the boys plan to have mini party after they won and set new record.

‘Why is it so dark in here?’ You look around the room. Carrying the grocery bags, you continues to walk along the corridor to find them. The second thing then come across your mind. 

Their dorm get smaller and it can’t be possible. You hear the sound. It is so loud like they’re arguing on something. Living with them for months, you’ve already familiared with this situation. You reach the door and decide to open. Checking is them whether the arguement has gone too bad.

“Guys, is everything al..right?” All 7 gazes now are looking at you. They are staring at you like predetors. 

Something must gone wrong. You notice the last thing yet most important one. This is their dorm, yes. This is BTS, yes. But this isn’t right. 

“Who is she, hyung?” Jungkook turn around and ask something to Jhope. Yoongi and Namjoon, on the other hand, stare at you. Taehyung looks alert with the situation. Jin prepare his phone to call someone.

                                                     ‘Not this again’

You don’t know how long you have staying in this position. Sitting on the chair while 7 of them asking question and Namjoon translate for you to answer. You start feeling tired and your patient start running out.

“For god sake, I say I know you before. Yes, I am your fan. No, I’m not a paparazzi or gossip news agency or sassaeng. I just came here becuse we knew each other and today I supposed to have a party with you guys, but now I’m here. Crossing back through a stupid door and lead me back to you guys. Get it?”

You rant out everything. You are now frustrate not because of them. It is because you cross the door which lead you back into your own time again. Eventually it also put you into a wrong place again too.

“How..believe..you?” Taehyung ask with his struggle in english.

“Wanna bet?”

“What bet?” Now Yoongi is the one who talk.

“If I can tell you the song that you are planning right now and also the concept. You need to believe me.”

“If not...” Namjoon ask.

“You can send me to the police officers.” 

“Deal!” All of them agree.

“How can this possible?” All of them giving you a disbelief look.

“Maybe she is the new employee,hyung.” Jimin speak.

“Okay we believe you so what next?”

“Well, I was thinking we should party. However, hearing your noise from arguing, I suppose we should clear that problem first.”

"So… what happened?" You ask and they look at each other. They don't want to tell them since they don't trust a stranger. 

"I know you guys are arguing on something, but most the time you will sort it out. I just want to know if I can help you with this one."

"No, she can't know that we are going to disband Hyung."

"Well, what should we tell her then?" Jin ask Jimin who is showing a panic look.

"I don't understand stand what you guys said, but judging the Jimin's face, it is a worse case."

"I think this is going to be the first and last party for us with you" Namjoon speak without realising what he has just said.

"Don't tell me you…"

"...going to disband." He finishes the sentence.

“What?!?!?!?”

Y/N POV.

It has been hours and we still dicuss about the issue. I could see how upset they were upset, but they couldn’t do anything. The company has decide already that they should leave and the company should finally close.

“Why don’t you convince them? I believe your fans will also not happy and stand up for you.”

“Because there is no one stand for us.”  Taehyung speak with a sad voice.

“What did he said?” I ask Namjoon.

“Read this and you’ll understand.” I grab the ipad and start reading. There are hate comments all over the sites and social media.

‘Wierd’ Is the first thing I thought. I thought I am now arrive in my time. However, this prove me my thought was wrong. Wait? Don’t tell me that I come across the day when they decide in another dimension and they decide to leave for this one?

“No, I won’t let this happen.” All of sudden, I burst out my anger and there is no particular reason.

“Hyung why are we still listening to this woman here?”

“Calm down Kook, we also needed to find out she arrive here.” Jimin try to calm Jungkook down because he also get angry. It must be me who trigger him.

“And how..will you help?” Yoongi ask with a dead serious face.

“I will prove this industry and to the world that you guys can be famous.”

After that day, I come up with a huge idea. The idea that actually dangerous for me. If I mess this up, this timeline is going to be ruin because of me. ‘Deep breathe and go.’ I start walking inside Big hit building.

“What can we help you miss?” 

“Uhh... I don’t speak Korea, but I just want to come here for an appointment.”

“Oh sorry miss and you are?” The worker changes his language and asks.

“Y/N, bts friends.”

“Woh I finally get to meet PD like for real?” I question myself.

“You arrive, take a seat first.” 

I nervously bow to him before take a seat. I feel like my heart is going to rib out of the rib cgaes and my nerves is on fire. He start asking why I am here and our discussion start from there.

“Miss, I understand how you want to support your friends. However, this is a huge issue and I have made a final decision already. I can’t handle the loss anymore so I need to quit this.”

“What if I prove you wrong?” ‘When did I get this bold?’ I actually challenge him when I’m just a fan who know nothing about music industry.

No, I actually learned a lot during I was with them in the other timeline. I know how can I work this out and handle this. I tell them that I will prove everyone wrong and make them become famous. I won’t break that vow.

Me and him start arguing. We discuss one every single thing, even though, he tries to end this industry and I don’t agree with the idea.

The next day

“Guys you have a meeting today and you all will come with me!” I speak with the happiest voice ever.

“No we aren’t going to anywhere.” Yoongi speak with his cold voice, but I don’t understand a thing.

“I don’t know what you say, but I don’t care. You guys need to come with me and that’s final.” Now it is Yoongi’s turn to frown. The maknaes try to supress their laugh, but couldn’t. I make sure to drag all of them into a van and leave the dorm.

The meeting is going smoothly. PD explains everthing. Telling the boys about their concept and what we are going to do. I note down everything and suggest some ideas, which are from those timeline, up to the board. 

“I don’t think this will work when most people hate us.” Namjoon speak and show the most upset look you could imagine ever.

“I also plan for that as well. Be ready fpr what is coming.” I smile.

3 years later : Author POV.

Everything is getting better and better. The hate die down and replace with love. Their fan base keep growing and finally they become a domination to other country that isn’t Korea as well.

Your effort has paid off bit by bit. The boys are happy as ever. Every time they attend the events, concerts or even a small interview in foreign countries, they always feel excited and don’t want to believe this is real.

“Guys your comeback is in 2 weeks time so be ready alright?”

“Yes miss.” They answer in unison. These 2 years also prove them a lot of thing about you. They finally accept you as apart of their family.

“Rest if you need to, talk when there’s a problem and...”

“Take care yourself and others. We are a family.” You smile.

“Great so get back to work!”

They work really hard. Jhope live in the dance studio temporary to perfect his dance. Yoongi and Namjoon live in their studio. Sometimes they might decide to meet up and stay up for a day or 2 to recreate the songs. Making sure they will reach thier fans’ expectation. The vocal line try their best to practice singing and polish their vocal skills. Jimin with Taehyung also help Jin to surpass his struggle in dancing. Jungkook sometimes join the rap line and help with their production.

The comeback week arrive. As soons as the mv release, the views fly through the roof. Their comeback stage is the talk of the town even for the foreign news agency. The interviews and events abroad flow into the indutry like flood.

“Aye how was it?” You ask the boys who is now sitting in the waiting room. They are all exhausted. Sweat runs down their body and panting sound could be heard here and there.

“That was incredible. The fans’ screaming rand in my ears even thoug we were wearing the ear sets.” Jin smile widely. Jhope then continue to speak. 

You manage to understand them; even though, your korean is still weak. You understand them, but can’t reply back in their language. Well, that isn’t a problem as long as you understand. It also reduce Namjoon’s work. You now can help him with translation.

“I want to go back to the dorm now. I miss my bed.”

“Hyung, you are always missing your bed. Your future wife must be jealous because of this in the future. Loving a bed more than her.” Jungkook tease Yoongi and everyone laugh.

“Shut it lil kid, I’m not like you who attach to banana milk.” And that’s when they start bickering with each other.

“Don’t you want your reward? I thought you guys want it since you guys can finally relax for a week before start practicing for the tour.” Now all eyes are on you.

“We love you so much.” All of them turn into kids after seeing their surprise. You reward them with a buffet which you pay for it.

Running inside the shop like kids, you follow them. The workers look at them and try not to panic or faint. Who can blame those people when they get meet the boys upclose. 

“Enjoy your meal and don’t create trouble.”

“Yes.” They reply and start eating.

The atmotspher is full with joy. They might be a famous boy band, but now they are just teenagers hanging out with each other. Having their time with brothers after their hard work. You smile with the scene. ‘How can you make it?’ You think to youself.

You appreciate all the time you are with them and those boys from where you have left. You still think about that day you crossed the dimension. What if that day, nothing happened? What if this is a dream of yours? You feel afraid. 

“What are you thinking? We are waiting for you.” Namjoon speak. You snap back from your thought and see everyone raise their glass. Waiting for you to make a speech.

“Ahem...first, I would like to thank all of you for not sending to the police that day. Thanks for the trust toward me. Remember one thing, this is because of you not me. You are the one who prove the world. I am just a tiny part of this. Continue believe in yourslef and love yourslef. Cheers.” 

Jin and Jimin tease you with the speech while the other laugh along. When you end your speech, they continue to eat. You join them and everything turn into a mess. Despite that, you brysh it off and laugh. Little do you know, this is your time to go...

“We should come back again.” Jhope comment. 

“Yoongi hyung, you still owe me a meal.” Taehyung speak and Yoongi ignore. Saying it supposed to be a joke. Namjoon then pat the poor boy on the back.

“Well, there will be a next time if you set a new record again.” This time you speak.

“If one day you quit this job, I’m going to sue that man to responsible for this. Youare the best manager ever.” Jin reply and Namjoon sigh.

“If anything relate to food, you are always happy.” Namjoon statement makes other laugh and tease Jin.

“Ahhh...I forgot my phone.” Jimin try to find his phone in his pocket.

“Wait here hyung, I’ll get it.” Jungkook insist, but he refuse.

“Okay both of you stay here, I’ll go get it.” You decide to take an action to not let them bickering for it. It is late night already and they need to rest.

You are running toward the restaurant. Crossing the road, you make sure there is no care. However, things always gone wrong with you and this time isn’t any exception...

[itcameuponamidnightqueer]

2019 is over and i have feelings

it’s the end of the year and this is mostly filled with rambling half-thoughts, but that’s what you do at the end of the year—you reflect and ramble until it almost turns into something. this is under a read more only because i don’t like clogging up people’s dashes with really long posts, so you know, skip or read at your own leisure.

i don’t really ever do any kind of reflecting that doesn’t come out in the form of fanfiction. i have some feelings, i write a few thousand words about them, i throw them out into the world, and that’s it. i’ll reread my own stuff but i never really think again about what prompted me to write them because it’s over. the feelings are done but the words are memories and that’s all i need, usually.

but 2019 was a tough year in ways that i can’t express in fic, so i’ll just throw out a few thousand personal words and be done with it.

in september of 2018, my sister was diagnosed with breast cancer and i don’t think i’ve really been happy since. most of it isn’t being sad about the diagnosis—maybe a lot of it is and i just need a whole heap of therapy to unpack that—but rather how much the cancer changed. it was very advanced when they caught it and she’s made almost a complete recovery in just over a year, and given how shitty everything was to start, this is the best way a bad situation could have ended. not that it’s over, but you know.

it shifted our family completely. i don’t think it brought us closer, maybe my sister or my parents feel differently, but i don’t. morgie turned inward for maybe the first time in her life and kept us at arm’s length in the beginning. she told us very clearly that she didn’t want the cancer to take over her whole life—she wanted us to act normal and talk about normal things as if this was just a temporary snag.

i’ve had epilepsy since i was fifteen months old. i know what it feels like to do that same thing, to minimize and downplay the experience of a chronic condition. because my epilepsy has, gratefully, been very manageable. i can count on one hand the number of seizures i remember having. i have an annual checkup with a neurologist, she confirms the dosage of my meds, and i say goodbye. that’s it, no problem, see you next year.

(it could be so much worse, they say. you’re very lucky, you hear for twenty nine years.

i am not lucky.)

morgan’s cancer kind of opened the flood gates, i think, and a whole heap of shit came spilling out. you know how you see those posts on here about ADHD or autism and a few captions down the line someone is always like, “wait, you mean not everyone [is like this] or [does that]?” i feel like i’m just coming to realize that about my childhood.

not everyone takes days off of school to go to the children’s hospital—for an EEG, or an MRI, or to get blood drawn, etc. “normal” seven-year-olds probably aren’t managing their own prescriptions. my condition is less severe than many others’ but that doesn’t mean it’s normal. it’s certainly not. i’ve always understood “it’s manageable” to mean “it’s not traumatic”, and only now am i realizing that the two aren’t mutually exclusive.

and all of a sudden, this thing that i’ve been living with for so long, that i thought i had under control, is rearing back with a vengeance. and because i have been taught to be grateful for the “best” of a bad situation, because its mildness has turned it into something we don’t talk about, i draw inward and it festers and rots into shame. i’ve been operating like this since i was a kid and i think maybe i’ve finally hit capacity.

on top of that, i’ve been going through a bit of an identity crisis. i seem to do that every few years—five years ago as ace, four years ago as nonbinary—and i guess it’s time for another one. tbh it’s kind of been scraping at the back of my brain ever since i realized i was nonbinary, because even that didn’t feel like enough, but i didn’t know what would. 

i’ve said it in a few posts over the years (probably somewhere in both of the linked ones), but i personally really like labels. i spend so much of my time with myself (physically, sure, but i mean emotionally) and very rarely ever share things out loud, so how can i know who i am if i don’t find the right words? gay was good to start. ace fit in later, and then eventually it was just queer. and it will probably stay queer, but there are different parts of my queerness that i haven’t named yet, and the ambiguity is making me itch.

i’ve had this post sitting in my likes for about a week now—i identify with it too much to ignore, but it scares me too much to reblog it, and also i don’t want to until i can explain my feelings and fears. transness feels like something i’ve been hiding from for a while—not in a repulsive way. more like that “i’m in this photo and i don’t like it” meme. that thread encapsulates a lot of what i’ve been thinking about and struggling with for a few months: that i don’t feel trans ~enough, but i also don’t feel not-trans. 

everything i’ve been thinking about feels like i’m quibbling with myself over something really small, like how much of a difference would it really make to think of myself as trans...instead of? along with? being nonbinary; why is this a detail i’ve been obsessing over. everything i said in the nb post is still true, except my concept of gender has changed a little since i wrote it. i don’t feel like a woman and i don’t feel like a man, except i also don’t think gender means anything, even when presented as two binary options, so what do i really know? how do i know i’m not a man if i think “man” means nothing?

and i really am thinking about it in the smallest of terms—headcanon-ing characters as trans, feeling drawn to the trans flag over any others. it’s really dumb, that this is what’s triggering a bit of gay panic. what does it matter, i keep asking myself. i’ve seen posts over the years breaking down the stripes of each flag, pointing out that nb/genderqueer identities are already represented, and i wish that were enough but it’s not. it’s so dumb, i keep thinking, to see myself in the whole of the trans flag when i don’t think i belong to the whole transgender experience. and even that sounds dumb, when i hear it—of course there isn’t one whole transgender experience. i hear it, but i haven’t yet listened.

anyway. all of this and a lot of other things have been broiling and rotting inside of me for my whole life probably. i’ve literally never said any of this out loud, to friends or family or strangers. i’ve worn that like a badge since high school—isn’t it admirable, how i can talk and laugh and live without dumping my problems on anyone else. isn’t it better to be accommodating, to keep your burdens from weighing other people down? only you don’t realize until later how tiresome it is to be heavy. 

now that i have all of my fics moved over to AO3, i’ve been thinking about all that i’ve written over the years. it’s just shy of 730k. that’s more than the first five harry potter novels combined, and i’ve never told anyone in my life about it. that’s twelve years and so much of me to keep to myself. but i’ve done it because that’s kind of what i learned to do—my epilepsy was my first and most guarded secret and along the way i guess i learned to do that with everything. it doesn’t help that so many of my interests have been things that are either solitary or a source of “shame”. most of my friends i know through various social media sites. i’ve had this tumblr for nine years and the only people who know about it are other tumblr users.  there is so much more of me than a few hundred thousand words hanging around this garbage dump. 

i don’t know if there are any conclusions here. 2019 was rough, for even more reasons than i’ve barfed into this post. i’m not sure if i’ve learned anything from it; i don’t feel wiser or anything. i feel tired and mostly sad. i wish i could snap my fingers and resolve everything, but if i could do that, i’d already have done it. on top of everything, these are probably my last few months in chicago for a while, but that’s a whole other mountain of feelings to unpack.

anyway, i’m going into 2020 determined to get over myself, maybe find a therapist and a good masseuse.  

happy new year.

[lexi-bloom]

Age: 0 years

I was born a female in Tokyo, Japan. I was a planned pregnancy.

My birthday is August 30. I am a Virgo.

My name is Lexi Bloom.

My father is Ichiro Bloom, a real estate agent (age 40).

My mother is Yui Bloom, an Army enlistee (age 26).

Age: 1 year

I banged on a xylophone that I found in my crib.

Age: 2 years

My mother has been promoted to Staff Sergeant.

I threw a tantrum when my mother took me to the doctor's office to get vaccinated.

Age: 3 years

I'm starting to think that naptime is the worst time of the day.

I let another child play with my favorite toy.

Age: 4 years

My mother has been promoted to Sergeant First Class.

Residents of Uruguay have largely converted to hempseed-based protein as their main source of nutrients.

Age: 5 years

I went home with my head hung low after I peed myself in front of the other kids at the park.

Age: 6 years

My mother has been promoted to Master Sergeant.

I have been enrolled in elementary school at Yuki Kishimoto Elementary School.

I learned how to tie my shoes.

Age: 7 years

I was appreciative to my parents for taking me on a road trip to visit relatives in Kyoto, Japan.

Age: 8 years

I'm starting to think my dad may be a superhero.

I admitted to my parents that I broke their mailbox.

Age: 9 years

My classmate, Hideki, acted up in Mrs. Kaneko's class. I laughed at his antics.

I was sent to the headmaster's office for encouraging a misbehaving classmate.

I argued with the headmaster, Mr. Huang.

I received a warning from the headmaster.

Age: 10 years

My mother has been promoted to Sergeant Major.

I told some of the girls in my neighborhood I wasn't interested in going to see "Beam Me Up Ryuki" with them.

Age: 11 years

My classmate, Satoru, asked me out.

I am now going out with Satoru Fukuda.

Age: 12 years

Satoru started lower secondary school.

My mother and my father had a baby boy named Takeshi, my new brother. He was an accidental pregnancy.

I started lower secondary school at Hana Fujita Lower Secondary School.

Satoru broke up with me.

I lunged at Satoru!

I impaled his nose.

He lunged at me!

He busted my jugular.

Age: 13 years

I have stepped in gum 74 times this year and it's only April.

Age 13: l have stepped in gum 74 times this year and it's only April.

I have been diagnosed with depression.

I got my first period.

Age: 14 years

My mother and my father had a baby boy named Rento, my new brother. He was conceived after my father's condom broke.

My classmate, Akari, asked me to help her cheat in Mrs. Ikeda's class.

I visited the headmaster's office and reported my classmate, Akari, for for trying to get me to help her cheat.

The headmaster, Mr. Kato, said he would look into it.

Age: 15 years

I started upper secondary school at Yu Tanaka Upper Secondary School.

I decided to see what extracurricular activities were available at my new upper secondary school.

Age: 16 years

Iraq has enforced an asset freeze on Puerto Rico.

I am cured of depression.

I am heterosexual.

Age: 17 years

I think my teacher may be experiencing gas issues.

I was cut from the cross country team for performance reasons.

Age: 18 years

My little brother, Takeshi, started elementary school.

I graduated from upper secondary school.

I've been wondering how many people have actually had seizures watching "Stranger Things".

I applied to university and was accepted.

My parents refused to pay my university tuition.

My application for a scholarship to university was rejected.

I took out a student loan to pay for my university tuition.

I started a university program in music.

Age: 19 years

I've been thinking a lot lately about what it would be like if I had a doppelgänger out there somewhere, and also wondering what my hypothetical lookalike is doing right now.

I passed my driving test and got a driving license.

Age: 20 years

My little brother, Rento, started elementary school.

My ex-boyfriend, Satoru, asked to get back together with me. I agreed to get back together with him.

Age: 21 years

I witnessed a Soundcloud rapper drinking and driving. She saw me call the police!

The Soundcloud rapper charged me!

She grappled my mouth.

I ran away from her.

Age: 22 years

My father retired.

I graduated from university with an undergraduate degree in music.

I have to start paying back my student loan for university.

I think my neighbor may be distributing marijuana.

Age: 22 years

My father retired.

I graduated from university with an undergraduate degree in music.

I have to start paying back my student loan for university.

I think my neighbor may be distributing marijuana.

I applied to medical school but my application was rejected.

I applied to graduate school and was accepted.

My parents refused to pay my graduate school tuition.

My application for a scholarship to graduate school was rejected.

I took out a student loan to pay for my graduate school tuition.

I started graduate school.

Age: 23 years

I refused to skip school with my classmate, Prija.

Age: 24 years

My little brother, Takeshi, started lower secondary school.

I completed graduate school.

I have to start paying back my student loan for graduate school.

I got an interview at The City of Tokyo for their Archaeologist opening.

I was hired for the position of Archaeologist for The City of Tokyo with a salary of $28,704.

Age: 25 years

Religious feuds fester between Spain and Cuba.

I decided to have a one night stand with Haruma Nakajima.

I practiced safe sex.

Age: 26 years

My little brother, Rento, started lower secondary school.

I have been given a raise of 4.8%. My salary is now $30,074.

I refused to join social media.

I called Satoru the life of the party.

I made love to Satoru.

I'm pregnant with Satoru's baby!

Satoru did not feel like making love to me.

I called Satoru enlightened.

Age: 27 years

My little brother, Takeshi, started upper secondary school.

The City of Tokyo promoted me to Sr. Archaeologist with a salary of $36,231.

A woman approached me and told me if my forehead was any bigger it would be a "fivehead".

I gave birth to a baby girl! I named her Sayaka Bloom.

Satoru argued with me because I didn't use his surname for the baby. I promised him I wouldn't do it again.

Satoru broke up with me. I called him a lamebrain.

Age: 28 years

I've been thinking a lot lately about whose computer I would hack into if I could choose just one person.

I was feeling very tired one afternoon, so I drank a lot of water to rehydrate my body.

Age: 29 years

My little brother, Rento, started upper secondary

My little brother, Rento, started upper secondary school.

I finally got a new pair of running shoes.

I chose to vaccinate my daughter, Sayaka.

Age: 30 years

My little brother, Takeshi, graduated from upper secondary school.

While walking downtown, I noticed some creepy old guys checking me out with binoculars from an office in a nearby building.

My daughter, Sayaka, wrote on the walls with a permanent marker. I had a heart-to-heart talk with her about her behavior.

Age: 31 years

My little brother, Takeshi, enlisted in the Navy.

I fully paid off my student loan for university.

My baby daddy, Satoru, sent me a pic of a bottle of wine, two glasses, and a condom. I forwarded it to all of my friends.

Age: 32 years

My little brother, Takeshi, has fathered a girl named Reina Bloom. My little brother, Takeshi, has been promoted to Seaman Apprentice.

My little brother, Rento, graduated from upper secondary school.

My parents tried to arrange a marriage between me and a Japanese guy named Takumi Takeuchi.

I agreed to marry him.

I married Takumi Takeuchi.

Following the wedding, I decided to keep my last name, Bloom.

Takumi decided to keep his name.

Age: 33 years

My daughter, Sayaka, started elementary school.

My little brother, Takeshi, married Haruka Yamashita, a 26-year old restaurant worker.

My little brother, Rento, started a new position as Receptionist for Peacock Systems.

I fully paid off my student loan for graduate school.

I spent some time relaxing by enjoying a sunrise.

Takumi didn't want to have a conversation with me.

I liked every photo that my baby daddy, Satoru, has ever posted on Instagram.

He confronted me! He begged me to leave him alone.

I made a fake Snapchat account and followed my ex-fling, Haruma.

Age: 34 years

My little brother, Takeshi, has been promoted to Seaman.

I found a satchel full of cocaine. I turned it in.

I texted my baby daddy, Satoru, to ask him for a pair of his dirty underwear.

He confronted me! He begged me to leave him alone.

Takumi does not want to have a threesome.

I berated Takumi for not wanting to have a threesome.

I prowled the streets.

I stole a Toyota RAV4!

Age: 35 years

My daughter, Sayaka, loves riding around in my Toyota RAV4.

I secretly kept a large diamond I found while working at an excavation site.

Age: 36 years

My little brother, Takeshi, and his wife, Haruka, had a baby boy named Soma Bloom. My little brother, Takeshi, has been promoted to Petty Officer Third Class.

My mother has retired from the Army.

I took Takumi to the theater to see "Who's Inside Me?".

Age: 37 years

My little brother, Takeshi, and his wife, Haruka, had a baby boy named Yusei Bloom.

My little brother, Rento, moved out.

I somehow managed to kill a desktop cactus.

I was released from my job as Sr. Archaeologist for The City of Tokyo.

I called my supervisor a douchelord on my way out.

Age: 38 years

My niece, Reina, started elementary school.

My little brother, Takeshi, has been promoted to Petty Officer Second Class.

Takumi and I had a threesome with Gabriela Miura.

Takumi left me for Gabriela Miura.

The judge made me pay Takumi Takeuchi $17,247 to settle the divorce.

I had dark thoughts.

I electrocuted my ex's husband, Yuki, by throwing a toaster into his bath! He died.

I had dark thoughts.

I electrocuted my ex, Takumi, by throwing a toaster into his bath! He died.

I had dark thoughts.

I electrocuted my ex, Gabriela, by throwing a toaster into her bath! She died.

I had dark thoughts.

I electrocuted my ex, Haruma, by throwing a toaster into his bath! He died.

I had dark thoughts.

I hit my ex, Satoru, over his head with a stick that I found! He died.

I have been convicted of murder and sentenced to death by hanging!

They sent me to Tokyo Federal Penitentiary, a maximum security prison.

I hired Honda & Associates to appeal my sentence.

My sentence was overturned!

I have been freed from prison.

I had eyelid surgery performed by Dr. Taiga Yamazaki.

I had a nose job performed by Dr. Taiga Yamazaki.

I decided to have a one night stand with Manato Tanaka.

I practiced safe sex.

Age: 39 years

My daughter, Sayaka, started lower secondary school.

A friend of my friend offered to set me up with a job as Jr. Marine Biologist for Mr. Falcon.

I was hired for the position of Jr. Marine Biologist for Mr. Falcon with a salary of $21,226.

Age: 40 years

My little brother, Takeshi, and his wife, Haruka, had a baby boy named Yuma Bloom. My little brother, Takeshi, has been promoted to Petty Officer First Class.

I said no to anabolic steroids.

Age: 41 years

I have been given a raise of 10.4%. My salary is now $23,425.

I looked at some butts.

I pickpocketed an old geezer! He had $56 in his wallet.

I decided to have a one night stand with Haruki Harada.

I changed my mind since there was no condom available.

I told my daughter, Sayaka, that she's the bee's knees.

I asked Keisuke Kobayashi on a date and he rejected me.

I am now dating Shinsuke Ikeda.

Age: 42 years

My daughter, Sayaka, started upper secondary school.

My nephew, Soma, started elementary school.

My little brother, Takeshi, has been promoted to Chief Petty Officer.

Mr. Falcon promoted me to Marine Biologist with a salary of $33,324.

My boyfriend, Shinsuke, likes to drive my Toyota RAV4 even more than I do.

Age: 43 years

My nephew, Yusei, started elementary school.

Itook guitar lessons and learned how to play "Freebird" by Lynyrd Skynyrd.

I called Shinsuke fascinating.

Shinsuke and I made love.

I'm pregnant with Shinsuke's baby!

I made a fake Facebook account and friend requested my ex-fling, Manato.

Age: 44 years

My niece, Reina, started lower secondary school.

My little brother, Takeshi, has been promoted to Senior Chief Petty Officer.

I have been given a raise of 6.6%. My salary is now $35,523.

My father died of complications from old age.

I paid my respects at his funeral.

I gave birth to a baby boy! I named him Riku Ikeda.

[thenightling]

Thoughts on language and mistakes

I legitimately do not understand why half the Internet gets offended if you correct a constant and recurring grammatical or spelling mistake.  Hell, there are people who consider it “ableist” if you correct anyone, even if the one being corrected has no known learning, neurological, or physical disabilities.  I’m not speaking of a typo or something that is the result of dyslexia, but simple, common and recurring mistakes.

I met an online role player once who had a username / character named Rouge Warrior on a certain gaming site.  I knew he wanted to be called “Rogue” warrior and not a type of blush / shade of pinkish red.   When I politely corrected him about it he thanked me but attempted to tell me that Rogue and Rouge were just different spellings of the same word.   So I wrote out the pronunciations for him. Row-gah = Rogue vs. Roo-j = rouge.  He caught on and was embarrassed by the mistake once he realized what he had been calling his own character and was actually very upset that no one had corrected him before.

Another person I spoke to fairly regularly over text confused “Sense” and “Since.”   They could just about every other word correctly and were very articulate.   This was the one mistake they kept making.  

Lately I’ve seen a search of “Could of” and “Should of” on all social media.   I think it’s because most spell checks don’t actually catch that as a mistake.  People hear what sounds like “of” and think they understand the context.  They don’t realize that the “of” they hear is actually is actually a combination of “should” and “have.”  An easy trick with this to remember is if you can repeat th same sentence and replace the “of” with “have” the it’s really “‘ve” you are hearing.  Could’ve, should’ve, would’ve, ect...    Could’ve = Could have, Should’ve = Should have.   It’s just masking the “have” against the “could.”  

It’s a common mistake and yet it seems that no matter how polite you are about it, this is the one people get angry over.   For every one person who is relieved and grateful that someone was kind enough or considerate enough to explain their mistake there are ten more who scream “OMG!  Grammar Nazi!” or “Don’t correct spelling mistakes on The Internet!   I write casually online!”   Casually?   “Could’ve” takes no more effort to write than “Could of.”   Most recently I got a “You’re not an English professor!” response here on Tumblr.  “No, but I write.”  And the response “I’m a published writer too!”   Really?  So you want the world to see you making a common and easy to fix mistake that could easily be corrected?

I just don’t get it.  Again, this isn’t about dyslexia. This isn’t about learning disabilities. This is about people who (otherwise) write very eloquently but only have maybe one recurring mistake.   I know if I was constantly making the same mistake I’d want to be corrected.   

Usually the “Could’ve” comes from trusting phonetics.   

Personally, I occasionally catch myself mixing up the “its” and “it’s” and “vain” and “vein.”   Yes, I find it embarrassing but if I should do it, I’d rather someone tell me. 

I recently came to realize I was saying “ect” when it should have been “etc” and in the thirty seven years I’ve been alive only once has anyone been considerate enough to tell me the mistake I was making.  The correction didn’t bother me.  What bothered me was how long and how often I had made this simple and easy to fix mistake and no one had bothered to tell me I was doing it.  

 I do not consider it polite to deliberately leave someone in ignorance just because “this is the Internet.” The Internet is the main spot for communicating thought on a wide scale in the modern world.  I’d rather my thoughts be conveyed clearly. 

 Hell, this post is full of mistakes because I’m writing it while tired and it’s pouring out as a stream of consciousness.  That doesn’t mean i really want to let those mistakes stand.   It just means I know why they are there.  So, yeah, my rambling point is this...  If someone tries to tactfully correct a mistake, don’t automatically assume they’re trying to put you down.  I don’t waste my time correcting people if I think they can’t be able to help it.  I’ve even known many people with learning disabilities who get angry if they aren’t corrected because they feel like you’re saying they’re too stupid to understand what they did wrong.  It’s condescending and patronizing to them.  It’s not ableist to believe someone can improve their skills.  If anything it’s ableist to treat someone as so inferior that they can’t grasp something like “Could’ve” if they’ve already written in a flowing and eloquent prose and are otherwise articulate.

Is it petty?  Perhaps.  But as I said, I, myself, would rather be corrected than for a recurring mistake to be left to stand just because everyone is to afraid to gently tell someone they make mistakes.

[momestuck]

Let’s read Hiveswap Friendsim... volume 17!

The penultimate volume. Let’s sacrifice a few more timelines to the great tapestry of fate that we’re weaving. Or more likely, Doc Scratch is weaving.

This time, “Of Teen and Tech, Acerbic”.

One more jade, and one more indigo. I think at this point we have a pretty even spread across the non-Sea Troll blood colours.

Daraya

I thought there was a TV show of this name, but apparently it’s ‘Daria’. This troll and that Daria seem to have a similar attitude, judging by the image. As for ‘Daraya’, it refers to a handful of places, notably Darayya in Syria, which was apparently the site of a massacre seven years ago during the civil war. Oof.

Daraya is the final troll written by Cee. L. Kyle, creator of prior memorable trolls Bronya, Zebruh, Remele and Lynera. I guess Cee likes writing jades.

Anyway, Daraya’s route begins as a few have in recent episodes - the protag feeling lethargic and listless, too tired to make friends.

We end up in a cerulean neighbourhood. There are some pointed lines...

When this game wants to, it really skewers its targets.

Anyway, the music kicks in as we realise Elwurd (the huge lesbian) texted us to invite us to a party. A bunch of other trolls seem to be showing up as well...

The track this time is called “trollkind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. to obtain something, something of equal value must be lost. that is alchemys first law of equivalent exchange. in those days, we really believed that to be the worlds one and only truth”. No prizes for guessing who decided to name a song after an extended quote from Fullmetal Alchemist.

There’s some more emphasis on how artificial our friendship feelings are...

Anyway, as we approach the party, we spot Daraya, busy looking very goffick.

She’s not thrilled to see us. Of course we’d be friends with Elwurd, she says grumpily.

Now in Befriend Mode, we do our best to mimic her whole ‘disaffected slouch’. Apparently being vaguely cynical and depressed is pleasing to Daraya. She seems to like Elwurd though...

Lesbians, I swear...

I swear...

Anyway, we learn that Daraya has snuck out of the caverns - though she’s not as restricted as little Wanshi. She whines about Bronya’s ‘cloister rules’. But hey, she met Elwurd through Bronya...

We blather about how the caves aren’t so bad, and namedrop some other jades we know. Daraya is not impressed.

Anyway, she’s not invited. So our first choice is to tell her to go home or invite her in.

Let’s let her in, because the other way doesn’t seem to go anywhere interesting.

Bronya isn’t the only troll we know at this party. Chahut apparently hasn’t yet shipped out off planet, and she shows up too.

Chahut makes some remarks about how fascinating she finds jadebloods... or ‘greenies’ as she puts it. She makes a murder joke about whether Daraya is really jade or not.

Yes, that’s exactly how I’d put it. Definitely.

After that brief brush with death, Daraya gets other ideas.

Mmhmm. As we head off, Daraya suggests we have a reputation for being ‘unconventional, weird and rebellious’. That’s certainly one way to describe ‘being a clueless alien pathologically addicted to making friends’.

Ahahaha nicely done.

Unfortunately we don’t have a lot of edgy rebellious ideas tonight.

I’m in favour of being a hoodlum.

Lots of new backgrounds in this episode. Somewhat different style too...

Apparently these are by Phil Gibson.

We ask Daraya how she’s doing. Her answer: not well.

Daraya says some dangerously radical stuff about how everything sucks for everyone but the highbloods... and maybe them too. We get a callback to the joke from last time...

Ha.

The narrator refuses to comment on that. That’s a good call, I think.

Daraya continues to complain. As a jadeblood, she’s not going to have to go into space, but life in the caverns tending to matters of social reproduction. We commiserate, which she appreciates.

We raise an eyebrow at the mention of Lynera. Danara assures us that she hates her - and not in a romantic way! (“or well...”)

At that point, we run into Tyzias. Just the person to take Daraya’s alienation and dissatisfaction and forge it into a revolutionary will, right?

Luckily, protag has the same idea. Which is no doubt why Tyzias was written into the plot at this point.

The well known “goth to anarchist” pipeline, right?

There’s a brief allusion to the weird shift that happened with Fozzer - a vague memory of a different Fozzer. “But why did you remember that guy?” indeed.

Tyzias tries to give a Daraya a little pep talk against hopelessness... Daraya is not particularly persuaded.

God I know that utterly depressing feel. What can one troll do, indeed?

Tyzias answers it the challenge.

She’s not wrong.

Daraya is not exactly being won over, but the protag does manage to get her to chill a bit and keep the conversation going. Tyzias has more real shit to say.

Daraya challenges her - is it just about making herself feel better, if there’s no realistic hope of real change? Tyzias says... in some way, it is. And the protag chimes in - that doesn’t make it less effective, at whatever little it is achieving.

At the end of this, I’m gonna try and make a list like... troll I would most want to be friends with in real life, and least, favourite route and so on. Spoilers: Tyzias would be the friend I’d want to make.

Tyzias points out like... what the hell else are they gonna do? Daraya finally admits she’s got a point.

And... having secured a friendship between not just us and Daraya, but us and Tyzias... we reach the end of the arc.

Let’s go fuck shit up. By which we mean, read law books. I guess!

That was nice. I fully support this lesbian goth and her budding revolutionary consciousness.

God I’m predictable.

Unfortunately, finding the friendship route here means it’s all downhill from here.

If we tell her to go home instead of bringing her to the party...

strut pod encasements!

That was predictably short.

OK, now for the non-phoned in side branch.

She does have an idea, it turns out. We hop into our (now quite low on fuel) car, and head off to a ruined city somewhere near the thriving one we’re living in.

Ooh. I wonder what we’ll find?

We make our way to an abandoned mall to go urbexing. Fuck, I love reading about urbex. Too much of a shut-in to have ever actually tried it.

We end up in a food court with the roof caved in. It’s apparently cool as hell. Alas, it’s not illustrated.

I’m not sure which rebellion this would be associated with. That of the Signless, or some other?

Ah, that narrows it down. The Signless rebellion, then. In which case... Alternian malls are really built to last!

We comment on the strangeness of the absence of adults, but this upsets Daraya.

Apparently, as an adult, she’ll be cloistered off on her own somewhere, and forbidden to contribute genes to the slurry. Huh.

To be honest, it’s a wonder that most other trolls are so cheery. Daraya’s attitude seems like the sensible one on this planet.

Daraya says some real shit about the existential dread she’s living with, the paralysing hopelessness of having no future to speak of.

Hey Daraya, do you fancy this copy of Baedan I happen to have on hand?

make total destroy etc. etc.

Anyway, at this point... Daraya somehow manages to set the mall on fire by throwing a mall at a cooker.

And... the narrator has no choice but to leave, as Daraya lets herself burn in the centre of the mall, one of the few places she cared about.

God, this episode was a bit real lol.

It’s not wrong though. Leftist theory certainly hasn’t cured my depression (lol), but it has given me some perspective to put it in a context where it can be managed, I guess. Something to work towards, no matter how futile it may be, in this fucking hell world that created me.

In the words of 2B... “Everything that lives is designed to end. We are perpetually trapped in a never-ending cycle of life and death. Is this a curse? Some kind of punishment? I often think about the god who blessed us with this cryptic puzzle... and wonder if I will ever get the chance to kill him.”

Let’s look to the struggle within the cycle. What else is there?

Nihkee

So now for...

Nihkee. She stronk. Keep your pants on, lesbians.

Nihkee is the creation of David Turbull, who previously made Tegiri (weeb) and Tirona (baby lawyer). Her theme, appropriately bombastic, is another James Roach piece with a long name: “lmao i still dont know if it’s nicky or nike (like the shoe, not like... the name mike)”. Make of that what you will.

This episode opens in media res - at a sporting arena. How did we get here?

We seem to be watching some kind of cage fight. Knowing trolls, I imagine it will be a lethal one.

Apparently we’re attending to Amisia. She bemoans the ‘boorishness’ of the purplebloods.

This seems to be the troll equivalent of pro-wrestling, rather than, say, MMA. However, injuries are a lot more common. We learn that Amisia won us tickets in a raffle, and invited us to this ‘Display of Muscular Theatre’.

We are watching The Huntress (olive) fight Cullpitz (purple). The narration mentions that Cullpitz is bizarrely un-clowny.

The fights are, naturally, rigged by hemospectrum. The narration notes that The Huntress seems to be deliberately holding back to avoid inciting the crowd. Amisia, however, is excited for the next competitor: Nihkee Moolah of course, who - Amisia claims - has never lost a fight.

Cullpitz wins the fight, and causes The Huntress a likely permanent injury. The protag feels sick enough to have to step away. But as we leave, we get drawn into a conversation with a violetblood (seadweller). He promises money (nah), fame (no thank you) and at last, friendship. And the deal is sealed.

Unfortunately, Nihkee’s opponent is dead. Which means... he wants us to take their place. Having an alien will make big money for the ring.

Let me guess: the choice is gonna be to refuse this terrible plan or go with it.

Maybe, but not yet...

We meet Nihkee, in the middle of working out. Some of these trolls are dressed more for MMA than pro-wrestling but who knows.

There’s a meta joke in the narration.

She is not best pleased with the showrunner for interrupting her prep. Though, I get the impression it’s all in the spirit of showtrollship.

Sure are some muscles. I’m not entirely sure what the [()] typing quirk is menat to represent exactly. Probably not a yonic symbol?

It’s worth noting at this point that all of my knowledge of professional wrestling comes from reading the TVTropes pages a couple of times. If you’re curious, it’s an impressively comprehensive discussion of wrestling terminology and the various dynamics involved in its production.

Kayfabe is the way wrestlers pretend in their media appearances that pro-wrestling competitions are not mostly scripted athletic performances with exaggerated personas, but genuine fights between real people who actually act like their stage characters. Now all the fans fully understand that wrestling is fake (but still fun), it’s not taken as seriously, but apparently it was a huge deal back in the 70s. Give the article a read, it’s fascinating.

Nihkee is not particularly impressed by the suggestion of performing with us.

We protest. At length.

We get the first choice: are we ready for a BUTT CLENCHING, FLESH ABRADING, KNUCKLE BLISTERING, MUSCLE RIPPLING, SMACKDOWN FROM UPTOWN?

Of course we fucking are.

She gives us guidelines for the show. Basically: follow her storyline. “The alien invader challenges me in an exhibition match to TOPPLE the MIGHTIARCHY.” We struggle, but eventually...

...PREVAILS AGAIN!

(I guess to convey suitable drama, a lot of Nihkee’s dialogue is split between multiple dialogue boxes, which makes it a little hard to take screenshots.)

We ask if we’ll die. She assures us no - unless we’re especially weak. But even then...

Well, that’s a great reason to die. Sign me up.

Secondly, an “exhibition match” means we will not be challenging each other for positions on the “flexeladder” - otherwise we’d have to wrestle nude, like at the “Intergalactic Trollympics”. I’d count that as a blessing.

We bring up the question of face and heel. You can read about these on tvtropes, but the narrator does a pretty good job of explaining.

In troll society, of course, the traits we’d ascribe to a ‘heel’ are valorised. So we’re just going to get crushed under her heel. Indeed.

Time for the match. The showrunner does the announcement for Nihkee.

In a clear allusion to good old Equius, Nihkee’s entrance is accompanied by a shower of thrown glasses of milk from the fans.

And opposing her whole deal is...

“Some messed up lowblood alien”. Huh, usually when I go into an arena fight in games I’m the “mysterious stranger”. Who could have seen this coming?

Ah, that’s what fate was working towards this whole time! Thanks, Doc Scratch, for your dedication to the cause of wrestling.

So, naturally, we’re playing the foreigner. Here to prove our superiority to trollkind. TVTropes naturally has an article on this: the Foreign Wrestling Heel. We’re going by the book here.

We put up a good bit of bravado. But are we prepared to face, Nihkee demands, her...

OK, you got me. I’m laughing out loud again.

The protagonist puts up a pretty good show, it seems like - barely dodging Nihkee’s attacks in a suitably dramatic fashion. We bleed, but the narration suggests that under the stage lights, the trolls will take it as ordinary ‘rust’ blood and not ‘mutant’ red. We hope.

Nihkee invites us to attack with appropriate pomp. But we...

...don’t do that, not directly. We springboard off the edge of the cage in “a classic clothesline manoeuvre”... and get knocked the fuck out.

But we haven’t reached our second decision point yet, so that can’t be the end of us. Hopefully we gave the trolls what they wanted.

Do we even have a fourth wall anymore?

Anyway, this turns out to be Nihkee’s hive. She is not impressed at our ring performance - getting knocked out by our own attack. Well, that’s fair.

Training montage incoming?

Hell yes. (She calls everyone sister, including the announcer guy, in case you’re wondering if that’s an implicit gendering of the protag.)

She’s brought us to her BRAWNISEUM. As we can see in the illustration... it’s pretty much made for Space Marines to train at.

After her speech about our indomitable will and potential, she invites us to ASCEND with her.

Hell yeah. Let’s [S] ASCEND together!

Of course we fucking take it.

We start with the acid treadmill. (The acid doesn’t seem to be depicted.) She turns it up... a bit fast.

We manage to run at 12 miles per hour - which is about bronze level good. Apparently all the machines rate us by blood colour. While the low end of the hemospectrum gets the badass psychic powers, the high end gets the physical strength, it seems. There’s more jokes about how great our legs are - they merit a cerulean!

All the while, Nihkee ‘encourages’ us in a way that’s gendered in the opposite way that things usually are on Earth.

After half an hour of that, she gives us a protein shake... except it’s not a protein shake but ‘gatorade mixed with milk’. Amazing.

Then we get tested for ‘pressure resistance’ in a soft iron maiden. Apparently that’s olive level.

The overall verdict?

Hooray.

We do more of this - including getting chased by a literal toothy monster. By the time we finally collapse...

She’s impressed by our commitment - our “strength of heart and soul”. And our great appreciation for the MOST RIGHTEOUS OF PURSUITS... earns us the recognition of “workout friend”.

And that rounds out the arc. Presumably after some more of this, the narrator will be due for a return to the ring.

Go us!

Easy arc to find the right answers in, evidently. Now to see what happens if we hesitate.

First of all, before the match...

We can’t watch as she pulls out lowblood challengers from the audience and smashes their faces into the spikes. Oh, trolls. We get treated to an image of this, too.

Mmm, indeed.

Now, if we hesitate later before the workout session...

She dismisses us - unworthy of her gifts, unwilling to reach our full potential.

She tells us to get out of her sight. The narration steps in to make another meta joke (that’s like three this arc?)

We get a fake out fade to black and the first note of the end card music... but then!

...GET RIIII(...)IIIPPPPPED! In our own way.

D --> Hmm, 100k at this e%tremely subtle reference.

Anyway, that someone turns out to be... Stelsa! And Tyzias, who happens to be present. There’s a brief discussion of a fast food service called ‘door smash’, and Stelsa’s love of scheduling. They’re cute together.

But let’s get down to business... to defeat...

...our own flimsiness.

Stelsa’s into it.

Then we hang with her and Tyzias for a bit. We suggest Tyzias might consider energy drinks.

This arc then extends over... a long time!

Multiple weeks! And the training seems to be going well...

It’s almost as if ‘drill sergeant’ isn’t the ideal demeanour for a coach after all.

But as we go to show off our progress to Nihkee, the question of this being a non-canon branch leads us to hesitate.

So we decide to ‘blitz our chakras’ to try and work this out. We put on some ocean noises (which leads to a change in the soundtrack! soft music starts playing, seguing into the menu music) and... start imagining some metaphors.

In our reverie, we slip beneath the surface of the river.

Things get kind of meta. I’m just gonna take a bunch of screenshots because this seems... important.

The images of failed branches, all these catastrophes, blur together on top of each other.

We are implored to ‘find our river’. And we find the two branches of the current route... one sounding much more inviting than the other.

Then things get REALLY meta.

And then we get the rest of the arc in some kind of summary form, all in this... letterboxed? That’s not the right word, but whatever... all in this view. Nihkee is not pleased to see us. We come up with the idea of sneaking in.

It does not seem to end well.

She chases us on one leg and we escape by getting her run over by a train. But she becomes a cyborg coming to chase us down, terminator-like. Yeah, seriously.

NIHKEEBORG spends a year hunting us across the wilderness. And eventually... she catches us. We die.

And coming out of the meditation, we decide... not to do that. We just go to Stelsa’s house instead, and let Nihkee be.

Oof.

God, you never know what you’re going to stumble onto in this game. That was amazing.

Next time: FINAL CHAPTER.

[news-mashable-yahoopartner-blog]

How SparkNotes' social media accounts mastered the art of meme-ing literature

Most millennials know SparkNotes as the ultimate no-nonsense study buddy, but today’s students not only receive help with schoolwork from the website, they get high-quality entertainment, too.

SparkNotes remains a crucial tool for text comprehension — full of study guides and supplemental resources on english literature, philosophy, poetry, and more. But over the past two years it’s also become a source of some of the internet’s most quick-witted, thought-provoking, and ambitious memes.

SparkNotes' Twitter and Instagram accounts have carved a unique niche for themselves online by posting literary memes that find perfect parallels  between classic works like Macbeth, The Great Gatsby, Lord of the Flies, and Frankenstein, and present-day pop culture favorites like The Office, Parks and Rec, and more.

It may come as a surprise to those who once frequented the site for the sole purpose of better understanding Shakespeare plays before a final exam or catching up on assigned chapters of The Catcher in the Rye before the bell rang, but SparkNotes is cool now, and absolutely killing the social media game.

SEE ALSO: The magic of Book Fairies

As someone who spends the majority of her workday on the internet and splits her leisure time almost exclusively between reading books and re-watching episodes of The Office, I fell in love with the account's near-perfect meme execution after mere minutes of scrolling through posts. 

In a world with so many bad brand tweets and tone-deaf memes, I felt compelled to seek out the well-read meme masters behind SparkNotes' social media to learn how it is they manage to make each and every post so good.

How SparkNotes' social media became LIT ✨📚

Chelsea Aaron, a 31-year-old senior editor for SparkNotes, is a huge part of the success. She started managing the site's Instagram in September 2017, and her meme approach has helped the account grow from 5,000 to 134,000 followers.

"When I first started managing the account, I tried a bunch of different things," Aaron explained in an email. "I ran illustrations and original content from our blog, and I also borrowed memes from our Twitter ... The memes seemed to get the most likes, so I started making and posting those on a regular basis, and now I try to do four to five per week."

Image: screengrab / Instagram

Aaron discovered the account's recipe for success by not only making memes about some of SparkNotes' most popular, highly searched guides — which include Shakespeare's plays, The Great Gatsby, and Pride and Prejudice — but by mashing them together with a few modern television shows that she's personally passionate about, such as The Office, Parks and Rec, Arrested Development, and John Mulaney's comedy specials. She's also known for hilariously retelling entire works (SparkNotes style, so, abridged versions) using the account's Highlight feature.

Image: screengrab / instagram

The brilliantly sharp, comical posts seem effortless, but Aaron explained the process takes some serious concentration. Essentially, she stares at a large collection of collected screenshots "in a state of panic" until an idea strikes. "It's wildly inefficient and incredibly stressful, but I haven't figured out another way to do it," she admitted.

Luckily, Aaron always has the SparkNotes Twitter account to turn to for inspiration, which is managed by Courtney Gorter, a 26-year-old consulting writer for SparkNotes who Aaron calls "a comedic genius."

Gorter has been managing the Twitter account for about a year and a half now, and joined the SparkNotes team because she utilized its resources growing up and wanted to help "make classic literature feel accessible" to others.

"I wanted this stuff to seem slightly more fun (or, at the very least, less intimidating) to the average stressed-out student who's just trying to read fifty pages by tomorrow and also has a quiz on Friday," she said. The memes definitely help her achieve that goal.

Scrolling through the SparkNotes Instagram account, you notice it generally uses a recurring but reliably satisfying meme format. Most of the posts consist of a white block filled with introductory text and a screenshot from a television show, like so.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by SparkNotes Official (@sparknotes_) on Apr 16, 2019 at 10:25am PDT

Gorter, on the other hand, ensures the Twitter account showcases a far more widespread representation of the internet. She posts everything from out-of-context screenshots, GIFs, and videos, to altered headlines from The Onion and trending meme formats of the moment, like "in this house" memes, "nobody vs me" memes, and more. The account is full of variety and gloriously unpredictable.

Hades: Orpheus I’ll let you bring your wife back from the Underworld, but if you turn and look behind you she’ll be lost to you forever. Orpheus: pic.twitter.com/FWD9P2nO0m

— SparkNotes (@SparkNotes) April 16, 2019

Normal heart rate: /\⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ /\ _ / \ __/\__ / \ _ \/⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ \/ The old man you just killed, whose heart lies hidden beneath the floorboards yet continues to beat: ⠀/\⠀ /\⠀ /\ _/ \ /\_/ \ /\_/ \ /\_ ⠀ \/⠀⠀ \/⠀⠀ \/

— SparkNotes (@SparkNotes) April 12, 2019

Gorter, who describes herself as "constantly on the internet" feels a lot of her ideas are the result of "cultural osmosis ... our collective tendency to consume references and jokes without realizing it just by being on the internet a lot."

"Sometimes I’ll be reading a book, and I’ll remember a joke I saw earlier that fits. Sometimes a new meme format will crop up over the weekend, and I’ll think, 'That could work for Macbeth,'" she said.

Though the two accounts are clearly distinct from one another, they both give off the same hip English teacher energy and running them has become a truly collaborative effort. "I constantly send her [Gorter] emails asking stuff like, 'Can I still say 'big mood' or is that over?' and 'What's the deal with this whole 'wired vs tired' thing?'" Aaron said.

Together, the two women spend their days discussing iconic works of literature, making pop culture references, and keeping up with the latest memes. (A dream job.) Their separate styles fuse together to make each other's posts the best they can be.

The meme approach works wonders

One might not initially think that Boo Radley and John Mulaney have much in common, or that Michael Scott could effortlessly embody Romeo, Julius Caesar, and Holden Caulfield if you simply alter your perspective. I certainly did not. 

But Aaron and Gorter's work will convince you. Once you start merging the worlds of classic literature and modern television series, you won't want to stop.

The SparkNotes instagram is my favorite thing pic.twitter.com/FCc6sXjJly

— Jessie Martin (@jessie_martin97) March 29, 2019

Fun fact, the official Sparknotes Instagram account is probably the best one: pic.twitter.com/sIR6tsw7ZP

— Tommy (@tommy_jacobs92) February 28, 2019

When describing why the posts work so well, Aaron explained that Hamlet, Mr. Darcy, and Gatsby — three of her favorite characters to meme — have super relatable personalities, which makes the process so simple.

"They're dramatic, and awkward, and obsessive, which makes them identical to about 97% of the people on The Office," she said. "I've learned that you can use Michael Scott as a stand-in for pretty much any classic lit character, and it isn't even hard. (That's what she said)."

What wow the @SparkNotes Twitter is extremely good???? It all appears to be this good!!! https://t.co/PyEqTdQ3Ly

— Rachel Kelly 🥛 (@wholemilk) May 2, 2019

Why is @SparkNotes's Twitter so good it has no right to be this good https://t.co/eFBQpLMpe3

— Kelsey [Version 2019.05] (@flusteredkels) May 2, 2019

Gorter thinks the accounts are so appealing because they create a deep sense of community — an online space that isn't so isolating, rather a place where where bibliophiles, television enthusiasts, and meme lovers can all come together and geek the hell out. There's really something for everyone.

"When Steve Rogers said, 'I understood that reference,' I felt that deeply. I think people enjoy being in on a joke, especially when the source material (classic literature, for instance) isn’t particularly hilarious," Gorter said. "There’s a delicious juxtaposition there. I know that I personally get a secret little thrill when I understand something as contextually layered as a really niche meme, and a slight sense of frustration when I don’t."

Engaging followers and changing with the times

SparkNotes as a whole has come a long way since it was launched as TheSpark.com by a group of Harvard students in 1999.

What started out as a budding web-based dating service quickly transformed into a trusted library of online study materials, and over the years, as the publishing industry, technology, and the internet evolved, so did SparkNotes. 

Like the social media accounts, SparkNotes'  SparkLife blog — full of quizzes, artwork, rankings, advice, and trendy posts like "How To Break Up With Someone, According To Shakespeare" and "Snapchats From Every Literary Movement" —  perfectly encapsulates the site's commitment to catering to its audience.

Whoever runs the Sparknotes twitter and Instagram pages deserves a raise

— louise🌻 (@_Fallxn_) February 21, 2019

SparkNotes does a remarkable job of shifting with the times to stay relevant and interesting in the eyes of its readers — and the quest to balance fun and education really seems to be paying off. Recently, the Instagram account tested out a post that called upon students and teachers to request custom-made memes by reaching out via email with the title of a book or subject they want meme'd, along with a message for the intended recipient.

"The response was amazing!" Aaron said. "We got almost 250 emails, and it's so great to see the genuine affection and admiration that teachers have for their students, and vice versa." 

Thanks to the social media accounts, SparkNotes is not only helping students learn, but helping entire classrooms bond with their teachers. (And hopefully teaching educators who follow a thing or two about good memes.)

Print isn't dead, it's just getting some help from the internet

Aaron and Gorter are having a blast running the accounts, but ultimately, they hope their lighthearted posts will inspire people to pick up a book and read.

"I hope what our followers take away from this is that classic literature doesn’t have to be totally dry," Gorter said. "If our memes encourage our followers to engage with classic literature and be excited about reading, that's so rewarding," Aaron added.

The present-day approach to selling classic literature is undeniably unconventional, and the crossovers are absurdly ambitious, but they work so damn well. What's great about the memes is they're created in a way that doesn't diminish the literature plots, because in reality, one would have to have such a comprehensive understanding of the text to make such good jokes.

The memes are actually pretty high-brow when you think about it, sure to delight intellectuals with great taste in pop culture. I have no idea how the legendary writers would feel about their greatest works getting the meme treatment, but people online are definitely loving it.

It's refreshing to see a brand account succeed at such a genuinely funny level, but perhaps even nicer to see it thriving off of wholesome content that doesn't drag other accounts or get its laughs at the expense of tearing others down, as we've seen accounts do in the past.

SparkNotes social media accounts are genuinely just nice corners of the internet dedicated to making people laugh and hopefully igniting a love of literature.

WATCH: Steve Carell to reunite with 'The Office' creator for Netflix's 'Space Force'

[curlsandcrown]

Camp Bughead Day Seven: Runaways

“Like Romeo and Juliet, except we live happily ever after.”

Moodboard: Rachel | Writing: Jen & Rachel

Betty was getting tired of long days at her internship. Today had consisted of getting coffee orders for a big meeting that all the major writers were having at the newspaper but as soon as she delivered the beverages, her boss kicked her out of the room and told her to look through comments on their social media site. It also didn’t help that on the way home, her mother was ripping her a new one about having such a sour attitude for an amazing opportunity and while Betty was trying to defend herself, her high heel snapped two blocks from her apartment that she shares with Jughead. 

She sighs after hanging up and walks up the three flights of stairs then spends ten minutes trying to get her key to work. The lock is still sticking and just as she is about to give up and sit against the door, it opens to show Jughead’s equally tired face. Her eyes well up with tears and he pulls her into his arms, kissing Betty’s temple while pulling her into their living room. 

“Another rough day?”

With a nod, she kicks off her shoes then nuzzles her nose against his shirt, letting the scent of him wash over her and calm her frazzled nerves. Betty can tell he smoked on his way home, something she should chastise him for but she understands. Lately, both of their jobs have been overwhelming and Jughead has had extremely strict deadlines, helping the editor that he’s an assistant for. 

More days than not, his boss will call him late at night to meet online and finish sorting out things that should have been done days ago. It’s felt strained between the two of them but times like these make it well known that they’re still the Jughead and Betty that survived the Black Hood and Penny Peabody. 

“I don’t know how much longer I can handle it, Jug. Writing is supposed to be fun, not getting shut out of meetings and getting coffee.” 

His lips brush the crown of her head and hugs her tighter. “I know. I wish we could just go.” 

It brings her back to Pop’s, a somber time much like today when the weight of Riverdale was on their shoulders. All that heartache and pain, even now with their adult jobs. “Like Romeo and Juliet except we live happily ever after?” He chuckles quietly and runs his fingers down her back. Betty pulls back and looks up into his eyes. “Why don’t we?”

At that, Jughead laughs and pulls away completely, moving to sit on one of the chairs. “Just get rid of everything and travel the world?”

Betty walks over and straddles his lap, smiling when his hands automatically settle on her waist. “Yes,” she says a bit breathless. “There’s nothing here for us or back in Riverdale. Veronica and Archie are on the opposite side of the country. We could backpack and I don’t know, start a travel blog. Write what we want to write. Do what we want to do without anyone scowling at us or saying how stupid we’re being.” 

He blinks at her and leans back into the couch. “You’re serious?”

Swallowing roughly, she nods. “I’ll put in my two weeks tomorrow.” 

“Betty...” 

“We’ve saved up. We can do it, Jug. Think of how much happier we would be.” 

His hands move over her hips, contemplating her offer. “Okay.” Betty grins and scoots closer but he holds her away until their eyes meet. “Okay, but I have one condition.” 

“Anything, Jug.” 

“Marry me first.” 

Her eyes search his, looking for any hint of hesitation or that he’s joking. “Jug...” 

Jughead stands up, causing her to wrap her legs around him before he walks to their bedroom which doesn’t take long in their small apartment. He drops her gently onto their bed then opens up the drawer to the side table and takes out a small black velvet box. Betty becomes breathless and looks down to Jughead when he drops to one knee. He opens the box and reveals a simple rose gold ring with an oval diamond. Her hands come up to cover mouth then looks to him, nodding excitedly. 

“Of course, Juggie.” 

They’re married on a Tuesday after work. He wears a blue button up shirt with black suspenders and she wears a strapless white flowy lace dress with her hair down in old Hollywood style waves, blue high heels and a small bouquet of eucalyptus and peonies. 

He picks the restaurant to celebrate at afterwards and they consummate their marriage on a blanket in their living room, their apartment void of any furniture, this being the last night in the space and in the city. Betty’s bouquet rests next to their bags, packed and ready to go. 

Jughead makes love to her all night, whispering how happy he is that she is his wife.

Their first stop is Verona, a fitting place for them to runaway to. They find a small apartment to stay in for a few weeks and get lost walking the streets. Jughead frequently stops in small alleys and presses her back up against the wall, kissing her breathless and lets his hands roam down her body. It’s still surreal that they’re here - where Romeo and Juliet were but they’re living their happy ever after. She feels happier and lighter than she ever has and it’s because Jughead is holding her hand while they jump into this adventure together. 

Betty opens the window then leans against the sill, watching as the city comes to life while the sun sets. She can smell the sauce that Jughead is cooking, the fresh herbs wafting in from the tiny kitchen. It was one of the first things that she had insisted on doing, learning how to make fresh pasta. 

It actually became one of the first articles they wrote on their new blog, which Jughead had teasingly named “Acrown the World.” Betty actually loved it and spent nearly all night on his laptop creating a website and wrote about their voyage here, including photos that they snapped while walking around. 

Turning around and leaning against the wall, she watches as her husband moves around, checking the pasta and stirring the sauce. It makes her smile and soon Betty crosses the room and wraps her arms around Jughead, pressing a kiss to his back. 

“Any ideas on the next blog post? Maybe something else about Verona that we’ve learned while being here?”

“I have an idea,” she murmurs before pulling back and tasting the sauce from the spoon that he holds out for her. Betty nods, licking her lips then settles her cheek against his back again. “Do you remember our first kiss?”

Jughead laughs and returns to stirring the sauce. “Of course I do, Juliet.” 

Before they leave for their next destination, the last thing Betty does is leave a letter for Juliet at her tomb. It’s something symbolic that she has wanted to do for years since she found out that people actually did it. But it wasn’t until she and Jughead were together and dealing with so much in Riverdale that she understood why Juliet was such a beloved character. 

They’re sitting in a little alcove near the sign for Juliet’s Tomb and she watches as other women are writing letters. Betty is sitting there with her own stationary, chewing on the end of her pen while enjoying the warm sun on her skin. Words have never been a problem to her but now she wonders how to write a person who has been long gone from this world. 

She glances out of her peripheral vision, watching as Jughead types their next blog post about this exact location and how they found out about the multitudes of letters that are written weekly. He pauses, his train of thought coming to temporary stop, and brings his thumb up to run along his bottom lip, his ring shining in the sunlight. Her heart skips a beat and she smiles, looking down at the paper and begins to write. 

It all started when the love of my life came up to my window and said, ‘hey there, Juliet.’ Then he kissed me and everything changed. We were not much older than you, just 16, and neither of us had ever been in love.

I always wanted simple. I always wanted control. 

Our relationship has never been simple. And neither of us have ever been able to control it, until now. 

However, the one thing that has never changed for us is our love for one another. I never would have felt like this with anyone else, no matter how simple, no matter how much I could control my life with them.

I love him just as you loved Romeo, Juliet. Wholeheartedly. Against all odds. Through bloodshed. We made it through and our love never wavered. It only became stronger. 

Other forces tried to keep us apart, but we didn’t let them. I never knew that I could relate to someone so much. I only wish that you had been able to find the happiness that I have. I know what it’s like to almost lose him and my own life. 

If an afterlife exists, I know that you are now with Romeo. 

We came to fair Verona to finally get away from our own troubles and I’ve never been happier. We will be moving on soon to another city that is known for love, but this was the perfect first stop for us on our journey as husband and wife. One day, our journey will end, but we will be reunited just as you are now with Romeo. 

Sincerely, Elizabeth and Forsythe 

[jbuffyangel]

I questioned whether or not I was going to type anything up about the Timeless cancellation, but since I had been posting about it while we waited for news I thought it’d be a little weird if I didn’t respond to NBC finally making a damn decision.

I’m going to preface this by saying this is not a “Ra-ra let’s save our show!” post and if that’s the frame of mind you’re in then it’s probably better to bypass this one. I just need to purge my thoughts because this show’s fate has consumed my brain for too long.  I’m hoping some of this will comfort some fans, but I also recognize that I’ll probably tick some people off too. 

This sucks. Plain and simple. I am so sorry Clockblockers. This one hurts and I know so many of you worked tirelessly on Twitter tweeting your support for the show. I don’t want anyone to think the reason Timeless didn’t get renewed is because the fandom didn’t do enough or there wasn’t enough fan support online. That’s not what happened. Fans did absolutely everything they could and, in my opinion, went above and beyond for this show. 

I know networks love to say “fans saved the show” but one of my problems with that statement is implies it’s somehow the fans’ fault if a show is not “saved.” 

This always boils down to money. I know many of you are probably thinking “duh” right now and I also recognize that attitude sounds very cynical. But the thing is... I am very cynical about this particular topic. 

Networks enjoy looking like the fairy godmother when they choose to renew bubble shows or pick up cancelled ones and always credit the fans for saving it. It sounds better than “We can still make money off this show.” And sure, fans do have impact. Social media does have impact. Buzz matters. To deny that is silly and ignores the evolving way a show’s success is measured. That said, I firmly believe fan support is seldom, if ever, the deciding factor. Networks do not renew unprofitable shows because fans like it or are vocal online. There is no difference between Timeless fans, Brooklyn 99 fans or Lucifer fans. In my opinion, Timeless had the most vocal and longest running campaign. And yet here we are. But don’t feel bad Clockblockers. This wasn’t in our control. It’s not our fault.

Am I mad? Eh. Not really. It’s more sad for me at this point. I was so fed up with the never ending vortex of NBC’s indecision that I’m almost relieved we are out of it.  Why do I think it took so long? I do think NBC and Sony were trying to make a deal. I don’t think they were at the table every day, but I want to believe the back and forth was ongoing until the decision was made. I also think Sony and creators were trying to make deals with other networks or streaming companies. I also think NBC was trying to wait out fans and let the roar of support die down online. #dicks

One of my frustrations with the Timeless renewal last year was I felt the announcement and subsequent story surrounding the renewal was a lot of PR fluff. It was a great story saying fans saved the show in three days, but what didn’t get reported on very much at the time is that after NBC canceled Timeless, Sony came back to the table with a very big check. Sony owned Timeless and NBC paid a licensing fee to air it. In order to secure a second season, Sony gave NBC 50% ownership of Timeless. Then, they cut production costs by A LOT and the show benefited from a land tax credit. That’s how the show was made profitable again. That’s how NBC and Sony made the deal last year.  

I feel like I read somewhere that NBC’s 50% of the profits was advertising, while Sony’s piece of the pie was streaming rights and international sales. Don’t quote me on that though. I’ve been researching and reading on Timeless for a loooong time, primarily because this stuff interests me, but articles are starting to muddle together. However, if that is accurate, that could explain why NBC was so focused on live ratings. 

Yes, I know the Nielson system is archaic, but it’s the system we got. The Big Four are becoming less dependent on advertising for profits because people are not watching as much live TV anymore. Everyone has had to branch out and find other ways to make money (Hello streaming). However, live ratings still determine ad buy rates and advertising is still the primary source of income for network television. (I do not include the CW in this. They have a different business model.) When a show drops 40% in live ratings it means the network cannot charge Tide as much to air a commercial. This makes the show less profitable and renewal less likely. It is always about the money. Again, I’m sure many of you are saying “duh” but I appreciate you allowing me to purge.

Not that NBC did much to help Timeless succeed their second season. They put a family friendly show on at 9c/10 pm on Sunday night. There was a long break in between Season 1 and Season 2. NBC did very little to promote Timeless’ return and that continued while the show aired. So, it’s not all that shocking ratings dropped another 40%. I wouldn’t be surprised if 40% of the audience didn’t even know the damn show was on again. I don’t know why networks set up their own shows to fail, but they do. And by networks I mean NBC and Fox. 

Networks are also moving away from airing shows owned by other networks. The predominant trend is to air shows produced in house. NBC, ABC, CBS and Fox all have their own production studios. Sony has their own production studio but they don’t have a network to air their shows. So, Sony is struggling to sell shows right now. A lot of their pilots were not picked up for the 2018-2019 season. There’s a lot of factors I’m sure, but I think licensing fees are at play.  People aren’t watching live TV as much anymore and therefore networks are not able to charge advertisers as much. If the profitability potential is less from the outset then networks want a bigger piece of the pie. So, instead of paying extremely expensive licensing fees they are simply airing shows they own. This is just my theory. My point is simply Timeless had an uphill battle that wasn’t necessarily all about ratings.

I’ve been seeing a lot of comparisons between the shows that were renewed or “saved” versus the ones that were cancelled. I think this is always a slippery slope because these are not apples to apples comparisons. The one I am hearing a lot about is Brooklyn 99, so I’ll just quick toss out my thoughts on that. Brooklyn 99 aired on Fox, but NBC owned the show. NBC sold Brooklyn 99 to Fox before Andy Samberg (their big SNL star) joined the pilot. Greenblatt said he regretted letting the show get away. So, the way I look at it Brooklyn 99 was never canceled. NBC was going to pick it up. They were just waiting to pounce. 

Do I think Timeless will get picked up by another network or streaming company like Netflix or Hulu? I was very hopeful of that while we waited to hear on NBC’s decision. To be honest, I’ve always thought Timeless would be a better fit on Amazon or maybe even the History Channel. It works great as short episode series similar to The High Castle (which airs on Amazon). Hulu also owned the streaming rights to Timeless, so I thought it’d be an easy pick up for them too. 

Yeah. I was wrong. I have very little hope of that now. The biggest shock to me wasn’t Timeless’ cancellation. I was anticipating that. The biggest shock was the talk of the two hour movie by Kripke and cast. It seems the two hour movie is Timeless’ best bet, which means the creators and Sony have already reached out to other networks and streaming sites like Amazon, Hulu and Netflix and were turned down. Even the movie sounds like a long shot. 

Sony and the creators are encouraging fans to campaign again only to direct their efforts at Hulu and Netflix now. 

Yeah, this annoyed me. It’s not like the Clockblockers’ efforts were secret while they campaigned loudly at NBC to pick up the show. Hulu and Netflix can see the online chatter just like everyone else. If the fan enthusiasm wasn’t “enough” to convince them Timeless is worth picking up, I don’t understand how tweets directed at Hulu and Netflix are suddenly going to change their mind. This is the disingenuous part of the “fans can save the show” for me. Whatever numbers Hulu and Netflix had is what made them pass on show. It sucks but it is what it is.

Before anyone starts yelling “Yeah but what about Lucifer?” at me - I don’t know what numbers these streaming companies look at. However, Netflix already has a deal with the WB which owns Lucifer. My bigger point is, Kripke wouldn’t be talking a two hour movie if the streaming company options hadn’t already been exhausted. 

Would I love to be wrong? YES. Maybe they are trying to keep the buzz going to get the two hour movie made, but again I don’t think “buzz” will be the deciding factor with that either. Maybe the streaming websites left the door open and the creators & Sony are trying to capitalize on it. I don’t know. But at this point I am tired of seeing these people get the fans’ hopes up by selling this illusion of control. There’s very little in fans’ control. Yes, I acknowledge again this sounds cynical but I’ve danced this dance too many times. I’m old, tired and cynical about this process. I’m okay with it. If you are not - FANTASTIC. Do your thing.  This isn’t a post telling fans to stop campaigning. This is just me... venting.

This has absolutely NOTHING to do with the quality of Timeless. It was a great show. It checked off so many boxes. Funny, socially aware and relevant, amazing cast chemistry, wonderful ships (no matter which one you loved), historically accurate and informative (you LEARNED watching this show), emotional and so much more. I wanted more seasons.

I am keeping my fingers crossed that we get a movie because I HATE when shows end on a cliffhanger. There should be a law against writing cliffhangers for shows on the bubble. The writers always think the cliffhanger will stop the executives at the network from canceling the show and it never does.

Alright enough ranting. Whatever the business reasons or factors that went into this decision in the end it doesn’t really matter. It still sucks. But I guess the way I’m looking at all of this is Season 2 was a bonus for me and I’m thrilled we got it. Timeless was an amazing show that I will miss and it will join the long list of shows I have loved and were canceled long before they should have been. Mostly I’m just thankful to the cast and crew for the many hours of entertainment.

[kidneyadvocate]

Statistics say that 80% of statistics are wrong.

The title of this is entirely made up, because it sounds interesting enough that I would click on it.  

It came to mind because earlier today I was thinking about how I don’t like the way statistical information is divided, or lacks being divided. That not using more specifics in categories can make the statistics of something less accurate. Then my mind wandered straight into how much it sucks being a statistic. Because we are not just a statistic. We are more. More than our careers, choices, mistakes, illnesses, etc. Side note: There is a very good song by the band Tenth Avenue North called ‘You Are More’, you should give it a listen... After you finish reading my babble for the day. If you have read any of my other blog entries, you already know I can take a long while providing back story before I get to my point... This one exemplifies that.

As you may already know, my husband is a kidney transplant recipient who is currently in renal failure again due to forces beyond his control, and currently on dialysis awaiting another transplant. So statistics and numbers in general haunt us. I refuse to say they define us, but they do have an impact on our lives. As well as over 115,000+ other Americans needing organ transplants, most of being kidneys. 

Going to go off track here, but please register to be a donor.  I know that no one wants to think about being dead, but when you die you can have one of three things done with your organs. 1) Bury them. 2) Cremate them. 3) Give them to someone in need, also giving your living family comfort knowing you are a hero and living on, literally, in others. (I read a story about a bride having the man who received her father’s heart walk her down the isle. She listened to his heart with a stethoscope just before the ceremony.) For me, this was a no-brainer before I even knew my husband. I also have made sure my family is aware of my choice so that in a time of loss they aren’t asked to make it for me. Please don’t leave your family in that situation either. Telling the DMV doesn’t always officially register you, please go to registerme.org to confirm you are registered. Thank you. Now back to statistics...

The ugly number above represents the number of Americans on the deceased donor registry, aka ‘the list.’ (Please see a previous blog entry/rant on why the four letter word ‘list’ is less acceptable in our home than the F bomb.) Lets pretend that number could be divided equally among states... That would be around 2216 people per state. The town I grew up in had a welcome sign saying population 1100, I knew almost everyone and the census must have counted cats, dogs, and horses within city limits. But it hits me hard that you could fill two of my hometown with people facing a battle like ours, in my state alone. You more than likely are acquainted with a family that loves someone represented in that image. Or touched more personally like I am.

A few more statistics to add to that image... According to the United Network of Organ Sharing (who nationally monitors all regions registries), every 14 minutes someone is added to the number of Americans needing organ transplants, and every 13 minutes someone dies waiting for that life saving transplant.

What are the numbers and statistics that bring someone to being on the registry?  LAB TESTS! I am a little biased here, because I have been a hospital phlebotomist, aka ‘vampire’ and ‘lab girl,” for 16 years.  But it is a whole different world being on the receiving end of the numbers turned out, than helping provide quality care to get those numbers. Creatinine 8.3, GFR 7, potassium >6, phosphorus blah blah blah. Those numbers are random bad results I picked because they are often common tests for kidney patients. It gets tiring, depressing, and all the sudden takes control of your life. Like knowing that the GFR dropping to 7, without dialysis, we could both go to sleep tonight and only I wake up in the morning.

So the kidneys are failing/have failed, and we move on to the living donor search, because the wait for a cadaver kidney is around 4 to 7 years depending on your region. In comes more statistics. Like 88% of American’s who test to be living donors are turned down, due to not being healthy enough to avoid a potential threat to themselves, for wanting to be selfless. I fall in that statistic. I try to turn that one around to sound more positive most of the time by saying that 12% of Americans are healthy enough to share their spare kidney instead. And one extremely small statistic that I like very much, the percentage of Americans needed to be living kidney donors in order to wipe out the ‘list’ fifteen times over is 0.5%. Yes, that is typed correctly. Half of one percent.

 Most people in renal failure have to go on dialysis. Which brings a plethora of new numbers, and makes you remember the metric system, and then learn to transfer if back to imperial!!! Mike can do all that stuff in his head, so I just ask him. 

Dialysis statistics are half of what got this topic in my head. Other half being post transplant statistics. Dialysis will be another blog/book itself some day. 

When you try and research life expectancy statistics for patients on dialysis vs. patients having received a transplant the most common comparison number is 5. Like the average number of years before needing another transplant is 5, but having a living donor increases that to 10. The survival rate of persons on dialysis for 5 years is 35-47%.  The 5 year survival rate of persons receiving living kidney donation is 88%  The 5 year survival rate of persons who received best quality deceased donor kidneys is 82%.  In the last five years facilities have started using less than best quality kidneys after realizing that they were throwing away 4 out of 5 deceased donor kidneys, while the list keeps growing larger. The 5 year survival rate for less than perfect is 73%. The ten year survival rate gap is just as bad; dialysis is 20% while living kidney donation is 57%. Clearly receiving a kidney from a healthy living donor is the best option.

So I read these numbers on trusted sites, but personal experiences make me second guess them. While taking to social media to actively search for a living donor for my husband, I have met lots pretty amazing people with similar stories who reach out to us in support. A 72 year old man that finished a 5k race in 40 minutes, 39 years after his only transplant. A lady on dialysis for over 10 years, and doing better than when she first started, who doesn’t qualify for a transplant. A lady who will receive her second transplant this month, whose first transplant lasted 19 years from a cadaver donor. Those three examples are in the past few months, the list of examples could become very long adding from when we first started this journey and including what’s to come. With his first transplant Mike met a man going on 70 years with a transplanted kidney. 

With every average comes radical exceptions; but I have met, and provided care for, more people that fall in the exception than the average. 

I know that one low number brings down a percentage pretty fast. Think about your grades in school. If you have a 10 question test and you miss one it is now 90%. The same applies to all percentages. I also know that as we age our kidney function naturally declines. Making the majority of persons in renal failure and needing a transplant around retirement age. Kidneys are not the only part of us wanting to take a break in our later years. Many other aspects come in to play that potentially drop the percentage number on years of survival.

It is hard for me to see my 38 year old husband listed next to persons mostly our parents age, or older, and trust that these numbers are accurate for him. Which was the basis of my thought process today. Why can’t I find more specific, narrower, statistics? Why can’t it be broken down into survival rates among certain age groups, and on what caused the failure to begin with? Why do studies often have such limited access, agendas, funds, subjects, etc. 

Why does one disease get more attention and advocacy than another that is just as deadly? 

Why is there so little knowledge and awareness shared about kidney health, and living organ donation? 

One certain thing however, is that we do not have an expiration date stamped on our feet, and we all have potential to be radical exceptions. Because whatever is plaguing us and causing us to look at statistics is only one part of who we are.

If you would like to test for eligibility to be a living kidney donor for Mike Nicholas please call Kathy, transplant coordinator, at 608-262-1997. Mike is blood type O negative, but there is a donor exchange program for when someone wants to donate and is not a perfect match. Mike’s insurance will cover the donor’s medical expenses. 

For more information on living kidney donation please call our kidney phone at 309-363-5892. Mike's first living donor, and mother, would be happy to share her experience with those considering testing. Living Donors have no medical costs.

To follow our story please visit/join Our 2nd Kidney Transplant Journey on Facebook.

To register to be an organ/eye/tissue donor please visit registerme.org.

Thank you for your consideration, advocacy, and continued blessings.