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inkabelledesigns · 3 years ago

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Vibrance the Hedgehog: Reflecting on a Decade of being a Sonic Fan and an Artist

Today is Sonic’s 30th anniversary, and it has me feeling all kinds of sentimental. So today I want to talk about it. A lot of you probably don’t know I’m a Sonic fan unless you follow me on the voice acting side of things. I’ve been Rouge the Bat in a ton of fan projects for years now, and especially with Adrenaline Dubs, a lot of people recognize my voice from the work I’ve done as her.

But believe it or not, Sonic is what started me down my path as an artist. I originally started drawing because a friend of mine did cool Sonic fan art back in 2010, and I wanted to be a part of that. My friends were super into the series, and even though most of us drifted away from it, I held on and hopped from group to group for years. Most treated me like garbage, but there were a few diamonds in the rough that I’ve reconnected with over the years. I got hurt badly enough that I stopped drawing Sonic fan art, I just couldn’t look at it without feeling this sickness in my gut. But last night, I got reminded of a video from like seven years ago where it was just a catchy song and a rapid-fire showcase of Sonic fan characters, and I was compelled to go and doodle the one that meant the most to me. I’m not gonna show it here, because it was late and not a great sketch, but I did want to pull up her original artwork.

This is Vibrance, from May of 2014. At one point in my life, she was my whole world. I had a lot of FCs before her, but she was the one that stood out the most. She was the coolest, this audiokinetic teenager who looked up to Sonic and wanted to be a hero like he was (and had a goal of challenging him to a breakdancing battle, that was a thing). This is the only digital version I have, and it’s pulled from my old DA page. I remember being so proud of this picture, my best friend helped me with it during tech class our junior year of high school (we always finished our work early, and the teacher would let us draw when we did). She did the pants wrinkles, but everything else was mine. I loved this drawing so much that when I went to get my senior photos taken, I posed with it. Drawing this stuff was my entire identity back then (and it wasn’t healthy). I wanted people to see me as a skilled artist, I thought that if I could prove myself in my craft, that I’d have the respect I wanted from people, but the groups I was with were mostly filled with these self righteous donkeys that were more interested in making fun of me than helping me improve.

But that didn’t stop me from improving. Vibe was with me through it all. I transitioned into learning digital art when I reached my last year of high school, mostly because I got my first pen tablet (which I still use to this day). These are some of the pieces I was proud of from 2017. I entered Vibrance into the first annual Pageant Mobius competition, and while I got burnt out and couldn’t keep going, I’m still glad I expanded my horizons and tried new things with these. As I got further into college, got emotionally destroyed in a few relationships, and just had more doubts about my art, I gave up doing Sonic stuff. The last piece I did was this piece of Zonic for my friend Trev, as payment for a favor. That was in 2018, same year I graduated.

I haven’t touched Sonic in a long time, not for art or for pleasure. I joined up with AD mostly because of my friends in the VA scene. If they hadn’t wanted me to stick around, I probably wouldn’t be voice acting for Sonic stuff still. I feel like most people don’t realize I’m an artist these days, given I don’t draw as much, much less post it. They hear my voice, and that’s the thing they want from me. And you know what? Most of the time, I can be okay with that. I get immense joy from voicing characters, be it ones you’re familiar with or personal OCs, hearing people squeal and get excited over having something they love come to life is satisfying.

That’s the thing I always craved with my art and never got, I wanted to share my excitement, and no one wanted to share it with me. And it wasn’t just visual art, it was my stories too. I was a writer long before I ever drew, like I was still learning cursive when I started making up my own stories. Nobody wanted to hear what I had to share, I was just kind of forgotten. I’m still in some places where I’m left out, no matter how much dedication I show in trying to support others, but I’ve finally found places that do want to listen and interact with what I have, where I’m happy to do the same back. Most of those places are tied to Bendy and nutcracker stuff, and it makes me so gosh darn happy to share those things with people. It’s nice to have a space where I finally feel valued.

So now that I have an outlet that gives me that, I think I’m more content with my drawings. I think I’m happier not worrying about what other people think of my art. Sure, I still worry a little bit, I’ve got a lot of great friends who are so skilled at what they do, I don’t want to look bad next to them, and I’m motivated to keep practicing and trying new things in that way. But at the same time, it ultimately doesn’t matter what anyone thinks, I’m having fun creating, and that’s something I missed a lot.

When I look at Sonic, I’m enveloped by this childish wonder. I’m reminded of my first home console game, Sonic Colors, and how much fun I had with it (you can imagine I’m super excited for the remaster this year, that makes me so happy). I’m reminded of my long car rides trying to beat Sonic Rush Adventure, or sharing the Winter Olympics with my friends and sisters. I laugh at stupid inside jokes with some of my friends, the FCs we made, the roleplays we had. I smile when I remember the hype over Mania, or the joy I had going to see the Sonic movie in the theater with my sister (the last public outing I had before the pandemic hit, and it was magical for every moment). When I look at Sonic, I’m reminded of the fact that I had a lot of fun with him. His series was my favorite, because it made me feel like I could be anything I wanted to be. He was brave, charming, and confident in himself, and he was fast, oh gosh was he fast. I needed to see that as a kid, someone who wasn’t afraid to stand up and do the right thing. Every year on his anniversary, I take a moment to celebrate quietly to myself, usually by popping in an old game and playing a level or two. No clue how I’m gonna celebrate this year, but I know this much: even with all the bad things that happened, nothing can take away how much I love this hedgehog, or how important this franchise was to my journey as a creative, and in becoming a better person. You may not see me share much of that nowadays, but I don’t need to be active in the fandom to be a fan. I’ll still hold Sonic close to my heart, even if no one else ever knows about it. Not gonna lie, I’ve cried a few times in writing this post, but I’m glad I said it.

Thank you for reading this. Thank you for listening to my artistic ramblings, for supporting me when I have something to share, for being around when I want to geek out. No matter what you come to my page for, I’m glad I have this blog, along with so many lovely people who fill my heart with so much joy. Happy Birthday Sonic, keep on running.

#sonic30 #sonic 30th #artistic ramblings #vibrance

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cynicalwonders · 5 years ago

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Semblance

Today is my birthday! And since it’s my b-day, I’ve decided to post the first chapter of a thriller-fic I’ve been working for the month of spooks and chills. For those of you who may remember, a few years back I did a poll of which fics I should work on in order. One of those prompts was given the working title of ‘Blackwoods’, this is it but with a new name and some changes done to it. I know I’m supposed to work on my other fics (GWE, Glass Slipper, etc) but this one got my creative juices flowing and will probably help me get back into writing. So without further ado, please enjoy:

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Summary: The classes of Dupont takes a winter field trip to a cozy ski-resort in the French Alps. Many use the cold climate to have free-range for fun in the snow or get closer together with their crushes in time for the holidays. However, a snowstorm has trapped the resort guest in their hotel and panic starts settling in. Is this a case of cabin fever or is there something sinister lurking in the mountains.

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“I cannot wait for this trip!” Marinette skipped around her room, pulling out several articles of clothing from her various drawers and trunks. “Two weeks at a ski-resort! Right before the winter holidays!”

Tikki giggled as her holder zipped back and forth around her room. Thanks to the ‘generosity' of Chloe Bourgeois – correction: begging and whining to her father – she had gotten the school to agree to host a pre-winter break field trip to one the best ski resorts in the country. How was that possible? Well, it may be because the owner of the resort, one Rodolphe Boivin, was Chloe’s uncle and would ‘adore having his favorite niece and her class over at his resort.’

Chloe’s words, not her.

Whatever the reason, the entire school was treated to an all-expense-paid stay to the Chateau Boivin. Of course, the catch would be that the students provide good reviews for the resort and promise not to break anything, signed contracts and all. Everyone was abuzz with excitement, many thanking the blonde who soaked up the praise with unconcealed glee. Students started making plans on what they wanted to do at the resort when they arrived. From skiing to snowboarding, 24-hours spas, 5-star dining, horse-drawn sleighs, and even a wine festival, Chateau Boivin goes all out every winter.

"When we arrive, I'm going to unpack all my stuff then grab an early lunch," Marinette recited out loud. "Then I'm going to talk to the activities director to book a ski lesson for the next day. Explore the place and figure out everything is located, maybe take a dip in the Jacuzzi and end the day with a nice dinner.”

“Promise to bring me back something sweet,” Tikki chirped.

“Of course,” smiled Marinette. “From what I read, this place hires some excellent pâtissiers for their dessert menu and café.”

“Better than your parents?” joked Tikki.

“Hmmm, maybe a close second.” Marinette joked, still rummaging through her things.

“You sure you’re not packing too many things?” asked the kwami.

“Just the essentials. Plus dad will take this down in the morning. Hopefully, he won't start crying again."

“My poor baby is leaving us!” Tikki mimicked her dad’s earlier reaction to the trip. “I knew this day would come but it’s too soon!”

“Dad, it’s just two weeks,” Marinette narrated her part. “Please don’t cry. I promise to call every day.”

Both giggled as she continued packing up her stuff. Clothing, shoes, toiletries, first aid kit, and some emergency cash just in case. She even packed up her sketchbook if she got inspired, as well as some tiny jackets she knitted for Tikki. Even if Tikki wasn't that affected by the cold, the little kwami looked adorable in a wool sweater.

“Alright! I think that’s everything!” exclaimed Marinette, finally closing the suitcase.

“Can you lift it?”

Marinette hoisted the bag over her shoulder with ease. “Over a year of swinging atop rooftops and fighting super-powered villains builds up muscle strength.”

“The fact that you can throw Chat Noir at an akuma should have let you know.”

“I thought that was another superpower while as Ladybug,” replied Marinette.

“Nope, that all Marinette-power,” cheered Tikki.

Marinette shook her head and smiled. Her little kwami watched as her holder cheerfully babbles about her plans for the resort. Seeing her smile so widely made the kwami really how long it has been since her wielder felt so content. For a while, a fog of sadness seemed to have washed over the poor girl. Everything she did or said felt halfhearted. Schoolwork, homework, designing, all done with half the effort and half the enthusiasm. And Tikki knew what – or rather, who – was the cause of all these…

On cue, the designer’s phone chimed with a text message. Glancing down, Marinette smiled faded. Sighing, she responded to the text before tossing it on her chaise. Tikki read over the message and her smile, too, faded.

Alya: Hey girl! All packed up for the trip? Can’t wait until we get there! Lila promised to give us some snowboarding lessons while we're there. Her cousin won gold in the Olympics for snowboarding! I'm so excited!

Marinette: okay.

“Marinette…” Tikki gave her a sad look.

“It’s fine,” she cut her off. “I’ll just politely refuse, say I already booked a lesson. If Alya lectures me again, then so be it. I’m used to it by now.”

Tensions between Marinette and her classmate were still present after the whole expulsion-debacle. Even with her classmates ‘apologizing' to her, though she doubts they were truly apologetic, they still felt that she was being unfair to Lila because of her illness. And suddenly her love and care for her classmates started to dissipate.

Even Adrien – sweet, perfect Adrien – didn’t seem all that sweet or perfect. While he assured her that he was on her side, his action seemed to express another thing. While he didn’t want to out the liar, he didn’t try to protect their classmates either. Marinette could see the hope and excitement in her classmates’ eyes. So hopeful to believe in Lila. Believing she had the power to deliver their dreams to them on a silver platter. Sacrificing their energy, time and money to pamper her so she, in turn, would reward them for their generosity.

Never did Marinette feel a stronger urge to vomit when she realized that.

What did Adrien expect to happen when the truth about Lila's lies came out? Did he think that everything would go back to normal? That Lila would learn her lesson and become a good person? Maybe that was the naïve optimism that Adrien possessed. And while Marinette would love for that to happen, it didn't fix everything. Not the months she spent isolated from the others. The cruel words they spat at her. The glares and stares. Disappointed sighs. Like she was the cruel one. The unreasonable one.

Suddenly she was busy with online commissions or her parents needed an extra set of hands at the bakery or she had to babysit Manon. Any excuse just to avoid them all. Marinette, the girl filled with love and compassion and sweetness, felt bitterness, anger, and disgust festering inside her. She didn’t want to feel this way, especially towards her classmates, people whom she has known and loved for years. But…

‘You’d think they would at least consider what I said,’ Marinette thought. ‘With how long I’ve known them and what I did to help them…you would think…’

Marinette shook her head and took several deep breaths. Master Fu's breathing exercises would calm her down and wash out any negative thoughts. And give the following few weeks since Lila's return, Marinette has made it a routine to do them before, during and after school. The last thing she needs is another near akumazation and lose Tikki thanks to that little liar.

“Don’t worry Marinette,” her kwami consoled. “You can use this trip to reconnect with your friends.”

“Unless they invite Lila…” Marinette could not remember a single outing she had Alya had without the blogger trying to add Lila. Not that she had trouble doing so, Lila just loved to force herself between Mari and her friends.

“Maybe you and Alya can do a girl’s night,” suggested Tikki. “Just the two of you.”

“Maybe…” Marinette said, but her voice held some hesitation in the idea.

“Marinette!” Sabine’s echoed from below. “Did you finish packing?”

“Yes, maman,” answered Marinette, opening the hatched door. “All packed up and ready to go.”

“Well don’t tell your father that,” her mother gave a small chuckle. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Okay, I’ll get change and come down,” Marinette replied.

Marinette quickly changed into her pajamas so she could jump into bed after dinner. These pajamas were thicker, made from wool as the snow started covering the glittering city. The Dupain-Cheng shared a dinner of Boeuf Bourguignon, potato gratin and hot chocolate for dessert. Pleasantries were passed around along with reminders from parents to take care of herself and to bundle up when leaving the resort.

After dinner wrapped up, Marinette dashed back into her room, doing last-minute checks on her stuff. Just as she finished, her phone rang. Apprehensive, she picked up her phone and sighed in relief. Tapping on the video chat button, her screen opened up to reveal a familiar elder fiddling with his own cell.

“Ah! Marinette good to see you...hold on...” she giggled as Fu’s screen kept moving around the room before finally settling on his face. “There, better! Thank you Wayzz.”

“Yes, thank you, Wayzz,” giggled Marinette.

“Are all packed up and ready to go?” asked Master Fu.

“Yes…” whined Marinette. “You’re like my parents.”

“They mean you well,” the Chinese man smiled. “This trip will be good for you.”

“Will you be alright by yourself?” she asked.

“Marinette, I am over a hundred years old. I can handle a little frozen weather. You should have seen the blizzards and snowstorms they had near the temple when I was your age!"

“But what about Hawkmoth? What if he…”

“Do not worry about him,” Master Fu waved off her concern. “Around this season, he’s more subdued due to Nooro’s sensitivity to the cold.”

“Speaking of ‘sensitivity to the cold,’” Marinette turned to Tikki, who was snuggled up in one of her pigtails.

“Insect like ladybugs and butterfly usual hibernate during the colder months,” explained Master Fu. “Even if Tikki and Nooro aren't actual insects, they do share similarities in their nature and habits."

“Good thing I made some tiny jackets and mittens for Tikki here,” Marinette teased, patting her kwami on the head.

“She should be fine. We did a regular healing session, so she won’t fall ill while on the trip,” replied Master Fu. “So I suggest you take full advantage of your time to have fun while up in the mountains. Just be warned that snowstorms are sudden, so stick close to shelter.”

"Are you sure it is alright for me to leave for this trip?” asked Marinette. “I can cancel…”

“No, no, no,” Master Fu wagged his finger at her. “This trip is for you to enjoy yourself. No Miraculous usage. No akuma attacks. Take this time to relax and replenish your energy.”

Despite Fu’s insistence, Marinette still felt a bit nervous about leaving Paris unprotective for such a length of time. With both her and Chat Noir – he was also going out of town! What are the odds?! – out of the city, Hawkmoth might take this as an opportunity to wreak havoc upon Parisian citizens.

Fu smiled and assure her that Hawkmoth would be too busy to do any sort of attack. How could he be so confident that Hawkmoth wouldn’t attack while she was gone? Marinette didn’t get a direct response, just a wink from the elder man and a giggle from his kwami. His secrecy to certain things was still in effect. The pigtailed girl just sighed and took the guardian’s word for it.

Truthfully, she felt grateful to have time for herself. Even if she didn't hang out with her friends, her time was still stretched between akuma attacks, classes, commissions, and homework. Top it off with Lila's manipulation and isolation, her stress levels were through the roof. Two weeks away at a luxurious resort seemed like a perfect opportunity for her. Even with Lila there.

“Marinette! Light’s out!” her mother’s voice called out from below. “You don’t want to be tired for tomorrow.”

“You best go to bed,” replied Master Fu. “We shall talk another day.”

“Goodnight, Master Fu,” replied Marinette before ending the call.

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Adrien sighed as he finished his disappointing dinner – a small piece of salmon with a dry salad, water and a piece of bread – before heading back to his room. His house echoed with the bitter December winds, creating a cacophony of loud, wailing noises. Such noises would normally cause people to assume the home was haunted, but Adrien just took it as a sign that he was alone.

Both Gabriel and Nathalie had been busy throughout the entire week, getting ready for next year’s Spring fashion line and fulfilling the last of the orders for his winter collection. All staffers were excused for the holidays. Even Gorilla had been scarcely seen in the past few days, sticking to his driving duties as Adrien's modeling schedule was wrapping up. Had it not been for Plagg and Nino’s skype calls, the blonde believed he would go mad.

Speaking of Plagg, the tiny cat was busy stuffing his face with his signature camembert cheese. “How was dinner?” he asked, voice muffled by cheese.

Adrien shrugged his shoulder as he sat on his bed. “By the way,” continued Plagg. “Your friend texted you a few minutes ago.”

Smiling, Adrien snatched his phone and read all his messages. Most of them were from Chloe, some from his classmate, but his most recent was from Nino.

Nino: Hey! You ready?

Adrien: Yep! Everything is all packed up.

Nino: I’m so stoked for this trip! It’s going to be awesome! I looked up online and this place has an underground dance room. Think we can sneak in and use it?

Adrien: I’m sure if we ask, they’ll let us use it. Or Chloe could ask.

Nino: Aww, but that takes out the fun of it :(

Adrien: I just don’t want to get in trouble

Nino: Ah yes, the sunshine child. Mr. Goody-two shoes.

Adrien: Hey! I can be bad! I can be a rebel!

Nino: Dude, I can’t believe you typed that XD Sorry to tell you this, but you’re probably the last person that I can see breaking the rules.

Adrien chuckled at reading that. He could only imagine what Nino would think if he told him that most of his night was spent hopping off rooftops in black leather. Probably laugh, thinking he was joking.

Adrien: You never know, I may surprise you!

Nino: Sure~ anyway, we're are rooming together right?

Adrien: Yeah, Chloe made sure to put us together. We're on the fifth floor, #512

Nino: Sweet! Do you know where everyone else is?

Adrien: Not everyone. Chloe showed me the room placements and our class is on the fifth floor.

Nino: So the entire fifth floor is ours? Nice! Party all night!

Adrien: I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Mme. Mendeleiev and her class are on the floor below us. Do you want to disturb her with your music?

Nino: Uh…did I say party all night? I mean going to bed on time and making no noise after curfew.

Adrien: Smart. I’ll just ask Chloe if we can use the dance room.

Nino: Fine, we’ll go the easy way. Gotta go, mom’s telling me to go to bed. Talk to you tomorrow. Night.

Adrien: Night.

After sending his text, Adrien quickly changed into his pajamas and went over his luggage again. Even though Nathalie told him to leave things as is, no changes or add ons, Adrien thought it best to sneak in some games and emergency cheese for Plagg. And his father’s birthday scarf.

“I cannot wait for the trip,” Adrien smiled, giddy with excitement. His formerly sober mood gone and replaced with that of unbridled joy.

Class had been, for lack of a better term, tense in the past few months. Ever since Marinette was nearly expelled. And while the class did apologize and Marinette accepted, he could see the hurt and pain in her eyes. Like she didn’t believe them and was accepting their apology to be polite. And even after the incident, Lila kept lying and trying to attack Marinette, though indirectly this time.

Marinette's solution to all this: avoiding everyone in class like the plague.

He could see it: the excuses, the non-verbal answer, the fact that she physically kept her distance from them when in a group. Not to mention the fact that she had mentioned multiple times that she was helping with her parents' deliveries, only for Chat Noir to spot her on the opposite side of the city sketching or shopping. Not like he could confront her with that. Most likely it will cause her to distance herself further from the group. He hated that she was pulling away and he hated that he couldn't do anything about it.

But maybe this trip could change all that! A small resort filled with activities and games, getting in the early holiday spirit, hanging out with the class as a group. Maybe, just maybe, they can rekindle that friendship with Marinette. Maybe Lila will finally back off and leave her alone. Maybe things will finally go back to normal.

“Ugh, why couldn’t you have gotten a tropical vacation,” moaned Plagg. “I hate the cold. Frostbite, cold snaps, blizzards, and worse of all: frozen cheese!”

“They have heating in the resort,” responded Adrien, rolling his eyes. “Your cheese will be fine.”

“Frozen cheese is no laughing matter!” whined Plagg. “I still remember that awful blizzard of ’93. All my stock supply of cheese was frozen over! Cracked! Broken! Even when they thawed out, the flavor and texture turned to mush! Like eating moldy oatmeal!”

“Plagg! Gross!” Adrien gave a disgusted look. “I don’t need to hear that.”

“And I don’t need to suffer the consequences of frozen cheese!” Plagg wept.

“Well keep that whining to a minimum when we’re at the resort since the rooms are shared,” the blonde remarked.

Plagg groaned. “Great. So not only do I have to suffer through cheese freezing, I’ll be spending my days being stuffed inside a bag.”

“You’ll stay in the room while I’m out with my friends. Just be careful if any maids or cleaning staff come in.”

“Whatever.”

“And try not to stink up the room when you eat,” he stated. “I don’t want to get weird looks from my friends.”

Plagg continued to groan even louder, annoying Adrien. “I promise if you stay as quiet as a mouse and not cause trouble for the entire trip, I’ll buy you a whole crate of fancy imported cheese.”

“…what kind of cheese?” questioned Plagg.

“Every kind,” Adrien smirked. “Hard and soft. From abertam cheese to xynotyro. Just promise to be on your best behavior and it will all be yours.”

“…very well,” Plagg straighten himself out. "I'll be a good kitty. Heck, I'll act like one of those snooty, pageant cats that are on TV." The kwami gave a fake lick to his paw and meowed in a condescending tone.

“How about you just stay hidden and we’ll be good.”

“Fine, ruining my fun,” Plagg smirked before landing on the pillow next to Adrien and immediately fell asleep.

Adrien, however, kept going through his phone. Giddiness vibrated through his body as he pictured his next two weeks by himself. It took weeks and weeks of begging and bargaining with his father to even tolerate the idea let alone consider it. But Adrien persevered, getting top grades in his class, nailed all his photoshoots and stuck with his daily schedule – save a few times he had to fight an akuma – before his father looked at the permission sheet.

In the end, it all paid off! His father read over the contract, signed it and had Nathalie go over the details with Mme. Bustier to make sure everything was on the up and up. Mayor Bourgeois and M. Boivin even spoke to him to ensure that no harm would come to the young Adreste while at the Chateau Boivin. Over the top? Yes, but it was normal for Gabriel Adreste. Though it could be forgiven as this would be Adrien's first time away from his father for an extended period.

‘Two weeks on my own,’ Adrien smiled. ‘No hectic schedules. No extra lessons. Just two weeks of having fun and hanging out with my friends!’

“This will be the best vacation ever!” the blonde yawned before falling asleep.

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(I can’t do line break for some reason so apologies for the rows of dots in advance)

Not any spooks in this chapter but its a slow-burn towards the actual actions so please be patience. Next chapter is coming soon <3

#cynical fics #ml #miraculous ladybug #semblance #ml fic #fanfic #fic #thriller

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vankoya · 6 years ago

Note

As I said, I wanted my review to be full and for your eyes only. But... Okey. Never mind. Since The Devil skates on thin ice is officially over, I think I’m ready to write my little review. Not so little tbh. 🤣 (1)

First of all, I wanna say that your style of writing is really stands out of all fic writers because of alikeness with literature. I mean it’s really classy and reminds me of all books that I’ve read not only in English but in my mother language. Full of this beautiful descriptions, metaphors and other stylistic things. (2)

Every time I read stories written by you I found something new to me.Like new words or phrases.And at the same time I can find so many common grounds.I can’t stop wondering,my mother language and English are so alike.It’s like I finally can believe that all languages were one language back then.“Anyway,prepare yourself;this is going to get long, and it’s strewn with angst.”-I think this phrase could be used as description for the whole story. U almost made me cry by the end. (3)

The plot isn’t so unique. I mean, lots of authors write stories from lovers to enemies and back. But I love your choice of AU. Everybody usually choose basketball for Yoongi. And I enjoyed that u somehow choose my cup of tea. I’m in love with ice. I’m not rly into winter but ice is definitely my thing. (4)

[I cut out a few parts here just because this was going to be too long! But the story about you and your friend was really sweet; I’m glad you had someone like them by your side during that time!]

Min Yoongi. To be honest if I saw this guy in flesh, I mean your Yoongi, I would definitely fall for him completely. He has almost everything that I like in man. Confident, strong, with right thoughts, loyal, able to wait till right moment, passionate, man of an action first of all. I see real life Yoongi this kind of man as well but... He isn’t suitable for an ice hockey. Too thin and short. It isn’t stop me from likening him anyway. (8)

Lead fem. It’s definitely me. Like almost 100%. I use phrase “keyword ....” like a lot. It’s one of my favorite. And another thing that makes us so alike - our love for ice and figure skating. I was and I’m still madly in love with this sport. And we both came through trauma. But I can’t fully recover from it emotionally. I’m still afraid of doing some tricks. Specially Lutz and Axel. (9)

She is stronger than me. And I can say that jumps are one of the hardest things in figure skating besides spins. You need to put a lot of effort to make it beautiful and right. Like u have to be fast and jump really high to make it correctly. Other characters. They support and show us other sides of main characters like the extras should do. Specially I love that u put members of other kpop bands into your story. Like Yugyeom and others. (10)

My favorite scenes. First one on skating rink. It was at the very beginning of the story. When they were arguing. God it was cool. But I’m too Dory to remember all the things that I like in this one. Another one is scene at Yoongis room when he was thinking about the night when ice starts to melt a little. And I’ll add a scene on the roof to this one as well. (11)

Third one is a memory of the past with hair scrunchie. Whole scene made me so soft. G O D. It’s too romantic for my lonely ass. And ultimate fav the scene before an accident. It’s so adorable and once again reminds me of me and my friend a little cause we were found of skating catch game. Like who is fast enough to run away from another and last longer. (12)

One of the things that really bothered me was Olympic team. To be exact if I’m not mistaken usually Olympic team includes only best members of every single team. I mean every single athlete who suits the team by the level of experience and abilities. The whole team which won some championship or something can’t become an Olympic team. But maybe this rule works only in my country. 🤷🏼‍♀️ (13)

Another thing is little lack of experience or knowledge about both kinds of sports. I’m really into ice hockey and figure skating and some things weren’t exactly right. Specially about hockey. The game is really fast and if u ever had seen it’s live you understand that even a defenseman is able to score. Btw the game could be dirty like members of both teams are always fighting and got ejected. But most people doesn’t even know simple terminology of the game. So I just deal with it. (14)

I’m not trying to criticize you at all and I mean no disrespect to you when Im saying this but... Some things are a little far from reality but it’s a fiction so it’s okey. One more thing is you need to shovel the snow to skate on the lake. And it was never mentioned. (16)

I know it from my experience because I had to shovel the snow away to skate on the river. And it was really hard. But it was also unforgettable to skate on rivers ice surrounded by trees covered in pure white snow. It was like I was in The Snow Queens winter land from Hans Christian Andersen tale. (17)

Anyway you did your job so well. I really enjoyed this story. You are such a good teller and I love it so much. Also you made me wanted to go to the skating rink. It’s a good sign cause my acting teacher said that the art should make such impact on human beings to do something. I haven’t been on a skating rink like for year and a half. But I will go there this Sunday for sure. (18)

I can definitely say that I’m so thankful to this plagiarism thing cause it lead me to such a good authors and people. You all inspire me to write. Like I already was a ficwriter, but since I found all of you I wanted to try to write something in English as well. And I did but I’m scared to death to show it. I’m pretty sure in my abilities in my language but English is a whole different story. (19)

I’m waiting for the “We were made out of stars” series, cause it’s reminds me of Hancock movie with Will Smith. I rly love this film and your short story was so alike with its plot but without any superpowers and stuff. Another thing that it’s reminds me of is a novel by Hilary Duff-Elixir. It also was about remembering past lives and all this things. So I’m looking forward to this to come out. Thank you for breaking my heart.Now I need to buy a plaster for it.Hope your week started well. ❤️ 20

P.S. And JT. He was the love of my life as well as Usher and Chris Brown when I was in my early teens. After that I fell head over heels for Alex Turner. But not for so long. I found Abel Tesfaye aka The Weeknd in 2011 when I was something about 16 and things changed. P.P.S I’m pretty sure that I made a lot of mistakes in my review, so I’m sorry for that. Have a nice day. 🌸💜🌸 (21) End

Woah, what a long and in-depth review!! Thank you so much for taking the time to write and send all of these—I was sure I had done something bad when I checked Tumblr for the first time today to discover 20+ messages in my inbox sdfghs. But I’m so happy to see that you enjoyed and related to the characters—that’s all I can really ask for!! 🌸💝💐

As for your criticisms, that’s fair. I’ve actually never seen snow in my entire life and I’ve only been ice-skating once or twice on an artificial rink, so my personal experience is highly lacking. I tried to do as much research as I could without spending hours pouring over information and watching videos that were only going to be attributed into less than a paragraph, though that clearly wasn’t enough. But, as you said, this is just fan fiction and it’s only something that I’m doing for fun and to build my writing skills, so certain details and facts are going to be glossed over—whether it be intentionally or unintentionally!!

Thank you again for taking the time to send this and for reading. I’m delighted to hear that you loved the story, despite its few slip-ups in providing factual information!! (And I’m glad that you’re looking forward to WWMOOS hehe) 😌💗✨

#/ long post #tdsoti #kindest words #anotherlittledreamer #blabvory

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doomedandstoned · 6 years ago

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Doomed & Stoned Turns Five!

Coinciding with Doomed & Stoned's fifth anniversary, Todd Severin of The Ripple Effect talks to Editor in Chief Billy Goate about this bitchin' lil blog, from its inauspicious beginning in the summer of 2013 as a simple social media platform to bring together lovers of the doom-stoner sound to dabbling in its own music festival, a massive compilation series, podcasting, and of course album reviews and interviews. Touching on both the joys and challenges of coordinating a multinational team of contributors, Billy discusses battles with burnout, the excitement of new discoveries, and the struggle to stay on top of an exponentially mushrooming music scene.

Photo by Chris Schanz

Let's start with the obvious: why Doomed & Stoned?

The name Doomed & Stoned isn't really meant to be edgy, though it does have a nice ring to it. It came to me as a simple way to sum up the heavy vibe that is the heart and soul of our writing: doom metal and stoner rock. I consider those to be the enduring styles of true metal and classic rock 'n' roll, best encapsulated by the music of Black Sabbath. Sabbath played music that was famously downtuned, slow, plodding, and somber, documented so incredibly by those first four albums. Then they had their up-tempo swings that tapped into the feel-good era of the 1970s, "Hole In The Sky" and "The Wizard" comes immediately to mind, as does "Sabbra Cadabra" and a number of songs on Sabbath Bloody Sabbath (1973) -- such a forward-looking album. Black Sabbath is the quintessential doomed and stoned band and it has been, broadly speaking, the stylistic portfolio of music we've decided to hone in on for this venture.

Photos by Alyssa Herrman

As soon as I was turned on to the doom-stoner vibe, I began to notice things happening into my own backyard of Portland, Oregon. At the time, Oregon’s proudest exports were bands like Witch Mountain, Yob, Lord Dying, Danava, and a handful of others that were being signed left and right to labels like Relapse and Profound Lore. Well, I just started documenting everything, because I felt there was something really special happening here, much as there'd been a magical vibe about our sister city Seattle in the '90s when my family had moved up here from East Texas.

It all began with me showing up randomly at shows and shooting live footage, I believe the first was the Portland Metal Winter Olympics in 2014, then Hoverfest. Initially, no one knew who the hell this guy was showing up with his camera, but gradually I became more accepted by the community, which opened up opportunities for doing interviews, album reviews, and a big 75-band compilation of the Portland scene, which kicked off this massive series of scene comps that many know Doomed & Stoned best for.

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Yob at Hoverfest (Film by Billy Goate)

What gave you this crazy idea of promoting the scenes to the rest of the world?

Doomed & Stoned originated out of a frustration I had in sharing discoveries like Windhand, Saint Vitus, Sleep, and Goatsnake with my metal friends. Many wouldn’t give these bands a chance or listened for half-a-minute and gave up. Surely, I thought to myself, there must be others out there who were just as in love with the doom-stoner genre as I am. It wasn’t long until I met Melissa Marie in a metal forum. I told her what I was planning, she was down, and together we burrowed in the heavy underground and discovered a whole community there welcoming us. Melissa was my first contributor and along the way, we made acquaintances with aspiring writers and photographers who really caught the vision and volunteered to document their own scenes. She's since become my executive editor and the organizer of our flagship festival in Indianapolis.

Suzi Uzi and Melissa Marie at Doomed & Stoned Fest

Just like that, the Doomed & Stoned team was born. Roman Tamayo joined the team shortly afterwards, now the Editor of Doomed & Stoned Latinoamérica and I started meeting people from all over who wanted to contribute an album review here, a bit of concert footage there. It all happened very naturally and organically, fueled by simple passion, a mutual love of fuzzy, downtuned riffs, and a desire to document the energy and excitement of what we were all witnessing -- Demon Lung in Las Vegas, Orchid in San Francisco, Pale Divine in Pennsylvania, Pilgrim in Rhode Island. It didn't take us long to discover was going on in the rest of the world and it blew our ever-lovin' minds.

With the explosion in blogging and desktop publishing, we gradually discovered there was a loose network of folks covering the doom-stoner scene all over the world, too. Most of them have been very friendly and we’ve even had the opportunity to collaborate with folks like The Sludgelord, Outlaws of the Sun, The Ripple Effect, Invisible Oranges, Revolver, Blabbermouth, and so many more. There are others that wouldn’t acknowledge our existence -- still won't to this day -- I’m guessing because we were viewed as unwelcome competition in an already small market with a tight circle of friendships. The thing is, we never really wanted to compete with anyone; we just wanted an outlet to share our love of music. It’s hard not to be competitive sometimes, of course. Competition can be positive in that it inspires you to push yourself, try new things, and grow.

Stephanie Cantu, Frank Heredia, and Elizabeth Gore at Psycho Las Vegas

That said, since none of the 20+ contributors to Doomed & Stoned are doing this full-time, we want ultimately just want to have fun and you can’t enjoy the ride if you’re constantly trying to outdo this site or that. We found our niche in digging into local scenes and telling the stories of the bands who may very well be the next Sleep or Windhand a decade or two into the future.

We're now in the fifth year of our existence and I feel we’re becoming known as people willing to give bands and their local scenes the kind of in-depth coverage they deserve. That speaks to our motto: “Bringing you the music and the stories of the heavy underground, with an emphasis on the Sabbath Sound and local scene coverage -- by the underground, for the underground.”

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Disenchanter at Doomed & Stoned Winter Showcase (Film by Billy Goate)

How has the scene grown and changed in the intervening years?

Well, since those bright-eyed early days, the doom-stoner scene has absolutely exploded. We were lucky enough to time our entry, purely by happenstance, to ride that wave just as it was nearing its crest. Right now, the scene is at least twice as big as it was five years ago and it’s becoming practically impossible to listen to all the new albums coming out, even if we limit the consideration to just doom metal, or even a subgenre of doom like blackened doom or death doom. It becomes a matter of practicality to prioritize those albums that are brought to your attention by PR firms and record labels, but I always remember that some of our greatest discoveries have been unsigned bands.

Over the years, we’ve been lucky enough to discover bands like Disenchanter, Holy Grove, Troll, Year of the Cobra, Toke, and dozens of others that have since risen to international prominence. Just to know you were there the moment their demo showed up on Bandcamp. You were among the first to listen to their self-produced CD on the commute to work. You were there to witness them opening for a touring headliner. You wrote their first review. You made that social media post that sparked a fire of interest. You recommended them to one of your overseas blogger pals. All of that is tremendously gratifying to be a part of.

Toke at Doomed & Stoned Festival I (photo by Johnny Hubbard)

We're all the product of our musical past. What's your musical history? First album you ever bought? First musical epiphany moment? First album that terrified the hell out of you?

I was raised by parents who came of age in the ‘50s and ‘60s, so I was exposed initially to a lot of late-‘60s rock, big band jazz, and later the ‘70s radio pop. Mom was fond of playing three classical music albums with a mix of music by Mozart, Beethoven, and Rossini, and that left a very powerful impression on me early on. She also was fond of Olivia Newton John, so I have “Jolene” permanently etched on my psyche and every so often vainly attempt singing it in the shower.

My first vinyl was the Ghostbusters soundtrack, which dad bought for me, and it unleashed a curiosity for the popular music of the ‘80s. Like a lot of my friends at school, I was nuts about Michael Jackson and I remember asking dad if I could have one of those swank red jackets that he wore so famously in “Thriller” (I was denied, though I did get quite good at grade school moonwalking). I distinctly remember the day my family got cable TV for the first time and with it MTV, which brought the music of Metallica, Boy George, Madonna, Aerosmith, and Run-DMC into our conservative Texas household.

It didn’t last long, because somewhere in the mid-‘80s, my family got caught up in the whole “Satanic Panic” movement. They started monitoring my listening habits vigilantly. One day, for instance, my mom was horrified to find her ten-year-old boy singing along to “Nobody’s Fool” by Cinderella during Casey Kasem’s American Top 40 show. From that point on, both rock and metal were banned from the house and my radio was confiscated. It was too late, though, because I was hooked – particularly by metal. Something about it has always moved me in a way that only classical music has matched. My first metal album, which I purchased in secret, was ‘Appetite for Destruction’ by Guns ‘n’ Roses – which at the time represented the pinnacle of late ‘80s heavy metal. People need to understand how revolutionary it was to hear something that “hard” on mainstream radio and MTV. I listened to it and ‘Lies’ incessantly on my Walkman and continued listening clandestinely to FM hard rock and heavy metal.

Since I couldn’t listen to it openly, I started developing an interest in the darker side of classical music, the moodier pieces by Beethoven, Liszt, and Scriabin, and took up playing the piano around 13. My family was supportive of that talent and I would spend hours and hours a day for years playing the piano in solitude. That was my first introduction, in kernel form, to “doom” – especially late Beethoven, when he started growing deaf and began expressing his frustration and despair more poignantly through dark tones. Franz Liszt, later in life, experienced so much tragedy that he begin to write very bleak, obscure music and was one of the first to experiment with atonality.

It wouldn’t be until my college days that I’d come face-to-face with doom at a Saint Vitus show in Portland. From that moment forward, I knew I’d discovered my soul food. Doom metal made an immediate connection, as it addressed the fucked up nature of life and society in a way that felt authentic to me. It wasn’t just anger. It was dark, slow despair and even a blithe kind of acceptance to it all. It was refreshing to have those feelings mapped out in song like that. That triggered a wave of discovery that led to Usnea, Cough, Pilgrim, Demon Lung, Serpentine Path, Undersmile, and others that are now staples of my musical diet.

Drumhead from Doomed & Stoned Festival II

What do you see happening in the music scene today, good and bad?

More people are digging to the doom-stoner sound and the scene is growing exponentially. The internet has democratized music in a way that has made it easier than ever for bands to form, record, and share their music. It’s also made it much, much harder for a band to get discovered. We’re simply oversaturated by it all. We’re reaching peak information and many listeners have just stopped exploring altogether. I think there was a study done some years back that said by the late-20’s/early-30’s the average metal listener typically hardens in their musical tastes. I don’t know how true that is still, but I know that I’ve been increasingly suffering from listening fatigue. 2014 was the last year I felt on top of it all. 2015 was explosive and every year since has found me woefully behind in my listening. I’m still digging through the rubble and discovering incredible records that I share now and then in a series of short reviews I call, “Doomed Discoveries.”

Among the trends I’ve seen in our scene in particular is the increase in female-fronted bands (which we tried to document in our compilation, The Enchanter’s Ball) along with more experimentation with genre blending. It’s becoming harder to find bands who traffic in traditional doom, but that’s fine because I think we all needed more diversity in our playlist to keep us from becoming jaded. For a while, it seemed every other band was “witch” this and “black” that. I’m the last person to judge a band by its name, but it was leading to a ton of criticism from fans -- to the point I’d have a hard time getting doom-stoner listeners to take a chance with a newer band that had the word “wizard” in their name. One thing that seems to be a theme of the doom-stoner scene is a continual drive for excellence and evolution. On the negative side, we tend to expect more of our heroes, as a result -- which is why bands like The Sword and Electric Wizard have been criticized for producing music that would have otherwise excited us if they were a brand new band.

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Holy Grove at Hoverfest (Film by Billy Goate)

What's been your all-time greatest "find"? That band you "discovered" before anyone else and started the word spreading?

It’s hard to pinpoint one band, but I’ve been instrumental in boosting the music of Holy Grove, Disenchanter, Troll, and Year of the Cobra -- all bands from out of the Pacific Northwest. Initially they were promoted through Doomed & Stoned and then found their way to small-to-medium sized record labels and festivals. Over half of the bands that played the Vinyl Stage at the Hard Rock Hotel & Casino in the inaugural year of Psycho Las Vegas were my direct recommendations. Though I was less involved in the following year, Psycho Las Vegas booked most of the bands that appeared at Doomed & Stoned Festival, such as Merlin, Toke, and Youngblood Supercult. It was a huge confidence booster in Doomed & Stoned’s ability to be a “taste tester.” This is not to say our taste in bands has always been picked up by festivals or record labels. The scene is getting bigger and out of necessity bands have to diversify their reach through a multiplicity of media outlets, because you never know who will read that one feature at the right time and dig your sound. Besides, there’s too much music in the doom-stoner subgenre for any one site to cover right now, so there are plenty of great recommendations coming from a number of amazing blogs and webzines.

What's the last album to grab you by the throat and insist you listen?

Definitely ‘Celestial Cemetery’ (2017) by Purple Hill Witch. I was only a nominal fan of their first album, but their second one was quite convincing, emotionally. There’s an underlying sadness to the record that appeals to me as a person who has long battled depression.

Celestial Cemetery by Purple Hill Witch

What's the hardest thing you encounter in promoting shows?

Convincing people that live music is worth leaving the comfort of our homes to experience, to say nothing of many benefits that come from connecting others in the underground music community. These days, we tend to value how conveniently something can be delivered to us. Audio books have replaced the need to sit and read (and collect printed media), our homes have become veritable theaters so no need to go out for movies anymore, and streaming high-definition music makes us feel like we’re in some sense getting the real deal.

Of course, those of us who go out to shows know there’s just no substitute for the excitement, energy, and sound of a well-produced live show, especially in a small venue. This is to say nothing of the community that comes with it. My best friendships in the scene have come about because I chose to breach my comfort zone and venture out to a show, sometimes merely on a whim. With that said, I admit I struggle with convincing myself to go out. It’s the introvert in me, I suppose. However, I have a saying that I try to live by: “Feel the fear and do it anyway.”

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Witch Mountain -- first tour with Kayla Dixon (Film by Billy Goate)

If you could write a 1,000 word essay on one song, which one would it be, and why? What makes that song so important?

Funny, I actually did write a 1,000+ word essay on Cough’s “Possession” -- the only song I’ve been moved to write an entire piece about so far. I think it’s because it spoke to me during a time in my life where I was feeling such raw, charged emotion and witnessing a personal transformation from being a happy-go-lucky, easy-going dude, to someone emptied of hope and weighted down by a very nihilistic outlook and pessimistic thinking. This was, in turn, keeping me more closed off from other people, because my trust level was at an all-time low.

I’ve always valued music for its ability to commiserate with me in my circumstances. During Basic Training it was Superunknown and Down on the Upside by Soundgarden. In my college days, it was Alice in Chain’s last album just prior to the death of Layne Staley, which fans nicknamed Tripod. In 2016, Cough returned after a long absence, released Still They Pray, and headlined the first ever Doomed & Stoned Festival in Indianapolis. It was a year of transition for me with a lot of upheaval in my personal life and “Possession” seemed to capture my inner storm perfectly, which inspired me to write a few words about it.

Give us three bands that we need to keep our eyes out for.

White Wail: The grooviest psychedelics this side of Berlin are nested right here in Yob country, my hometown of Eugene, Oregon. White Wail is best described as part-Graveyard, part-Radio Moscow, with a special kind of DIY electricity that has made them hands down one of the most entertaining live acts in the region. Their upcoming second album is going to put them on the map for many people, I predict.

I by White Wail

Reptile Master: Norwegian doom-sludge clan with two guitars, two basses, a drum, and one unhinged vocalist. You’ll find none fiercer. “The Sorcerer’s Weed” (opening number off their first LP, In The Light of a Sinking Sun) is positively frightening. I can feel its seething rage filling up my chest cavity like pneumonia every time I listen to it. I believe they’re expecting a new album out in the first quarter of 2019, if not sooner, and I can't wait!

Chrome Ghost: The ultimate contrast of light and dark come to us from a relatively unknown band in Roseville, California. The secret sauce here involves incredible vocal harmonies pitted against massive, crunchy riffs, something that’s done very effectively in their recent EPs, ‘The Mirror’ (2018) and ‘Reflection Pool’ (2017). Now, they just need to take this show on the road so the world can get better acquainted with them.

Shallows by chrome ghost

Tell us about your personal music collection. Vinyl? CD? What's your prized possession?

People think I have a huge vinyl collection, but mine is quite modest, really. Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to have a bigger collection and show it off, but unfortunately, I haven’t a lot of money to put into it, really. My most prized records come from bands I’ve supported from their earliest stages, like Holy Grove, Menin, Soom, or Vokonis. CDs have come to dominate my collection, not so much by choice, but quite a few promos are sent to me that way. Mostly, I have a vast digital collection that takes up almost six terabytes of data. Since I’m doing a lot of podcasting, this allows me the easiest point of access to put together my mixes for The Doomed & Stoned Show.

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BelzebonG at Psycho Las Vegas (Film by Billy Goate)

What is it about this particular type of heavy music that makes it mean so much to you?

To me, doom metal and stoner rock has incredible staying power. It’s something I can listen to over and over again without growing weary of it. Add to that the fact bands in this genre take so much care in crafting their live sound and you can go to any doom-stoner show knowing you’re going to have an incredible time, perhaps even walk away with a better experience than the record gave you. I was constantly disappointed by the concert experiences I had while immersed in mainstream metal. It just never sounded as good as the records did. With doom-stoner music, my experience has largely been that a band's show can, and often does, transcend their studio recordings. It’s just the ethic of our scene; we're fanatical about sound.

With BelzebonG

What makes it all worthwhile for you?

That's a really good question. My philosophy is that as long as we’re all still having fun, it’s worth it to keep doing Doomed & Stoned. With that said, it can be very demanding and stressful, especially as we’re increasingly turned to by bands, labels, and PR firms to host track and album premieres. The gratification of a piece well done -- whether by me or by one of my team members -- is ultimately what keeps me going day-to-day. I find a lot of joy in developing talent and even helping writers and photographers hone their craft, gain greater name recognition, and develop the confidence to even branch out on their own as freelancers. Several have gotten gigs with larger outlets like Noisey due to their work here and that just blows my mind.

When Melissa first started, she wasn’t confident at all that she could do an interview. Next thing you know, she’s interviewing Wino, negotiating contracts with promoters, booking venues, and organizing a music festival with international acts. I’ve very proud of the team and everyone who has been a part of it, if only for a season. I'd add to that my relationships with growing record labels and ambitious promoters, who I've been able work with to get bands like Tombstones, BelzebonG, Spelljammer, Vokonis, Cardinals Folly over here to play for the first time in the United States.

With Disenchanter

How would your life be different if you weren't spreading the word about music?

I suppose I’d be spending more time playing the piano, something I’ve neglected more than I’d like to admit since starting Doomed & Stoned. There are some gnarly pieces by Beethoven, Liszt, Scriabin, Godowsky, and Prokofiev that I've half-chewed, just waiting for me pick them back up again. Either way, I don’t think I can stay passively involved in music. I have to be playing it or writing about it, preferably both.

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Usnea play 'Random Cosmic Violence' (Film by Billy Goate)

Ever been threatened by a band or a ravenous fan?

No, but I’ve been doggedly pursued on Facebook by overly enthusiastic bands trying to get me to review their albums. What they don’t realize is that I’ve got a very heavy editing backlog -- it takes at least 2 hours and more commonly 4, 6 or even 8 hours –- to prep a feature length piece for publication. To review a record, I need even more time to let it soak in. I have to find something in it that connects with me on an emotional or at least an intellectual level or I can’t write about it. Because of that, I don’t write very many reviews a years. Maybe a half-dozen traditional, track-by-track reviews, though I do try to write at least one short review a week on our Facebook page.

Part of the blessing and the curse of doing this as a hobby, as opposed to full-time, is I don’t have a lot of opportunity to hear gossip, get into interpersonal dramas, know who's not speaking to whom -- that kind of thing. With that said, I really wish I could spend more time responding to every message I receive and developing deeper level friendships. Perhaps in time I will. My work schedule is so packed right now that it’s very hard for me to tear away and just relax and get to know people. On the positive side, it does save me from a lot of inter-scene conflict and allows me to be more of a neutral party when issues arise between bands, venues, promoters, forums, or fans.

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Saint Vitus Live in Portland (Film by Billy Goate)

In the end, what would you like to have accomplished, or be remembered for?

I’m hoping we can be remembers for documenting this special era in heavy music history. I want to get better at showcasing the bands in their scenes and telling their stories, just like the writers and photographers of the Seattle grunge era were able to capture the imagination of the world with the Nirvana-Soundgarden-AIC-Pearl Jam vibe of that scene in the early-to-mid ‘90s -- what the 1996 documentary Hype! captured so well. I also hope I’ll be remembered for writing interesting, engaging, and relatable music reviews that aren’t pretentious crap. That’s still a work in progress!

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Bell Witch at Doomed & Stoned Fest (Film by Billy Goate)

Many people may not realize the hours you devote to what you do for little or no pay. Is there a day job? If so, how do you find the balance?

This is most certainly not a day job. I have a full time job that I work 40-50 hours a week and I do Doomed & Stoned in the evenings and weekends. Right now, I’m not doing very good with the balance, to be honest. I’m an unrepentant workaholic, if I’m being honest with myself. That said, every other weekend, my mind and body revolt and refuse to allow me to do anything except sleep or just lay around watching movies or doing normal things like, you know, mowing the lawn. If I could will it, I wouldn't sleep more than four hours a night, hit every show that comes to town, review every new release, put out a podcast every week, edit every article within a few days of it being submitted to me. In other words, I'd manage Doomed & Stoned as if it were a full-scale entertainment website. However, I have to remind myself that I started this to build community and to have fun, so it’s okay to operate on a different model.

Filming Elder at Dante's in Portland (Photo by Matt Amott)

What's next? Any new projects?

This year, we’re on a roll with our compilations, thanks to some wonderful organizers who are embedded in their local scenes and are good at rounding up tracks from all the participating bands. We’ve released Doomed & Stoned in Ireland, Doomed & Stoned in Philadelphia, and Doomed & Stoned in New Zealand, Doomed & Stoned in South Africa, Doomed & Stoned in Sweden, and we're coming up on Doomed & Stoned in Deutschland, and our fifth anniversary compilation, Doomed & Stoned in Portland III.

Other than that, we’re in the third year of our flagship festival, Doomed & Stoned Festival, which takes place on October 6th & 7th in Indianapolis. Over the summer, we’ve had two new festivals: Chicago Doomed & Stoned Festival and Ohio Doomed & Stoned Fest. We’ll likely be doing a festival in Portland later in the summer, too, perhaps doing an all-dayer in Eugene, too. These are very much passion projects and we're lucky to break even on them, but the joy of putting on a successful fest that brings together members of the community, that brings bands like Vokonis and Cardinals Folly to the United States for the first time, is totally worth it. This is history in the making. More than that, it's vital therapy for our people -- refueling our storehouses with the power of the Riff!

Finally, other than the music, what's your other burning passion?

I have cats that I love to death. I’m a fanatical collector of B-movies, from the ‘60s and ‘70s especially –- the more awful the movie is, production wise, the more I delight in it. Probably that has a lot to do with growing up on Mystery Science Theater 3000. When B-movies and cats collide with music, I’m in a very happy place (see the band Gurt!). Also an avid fan of vintage comic books -- many of the narratives of the pre-code 1950s comic books were taking chances that rival many of the shocking storylines of Marvel and DC today. Surprisingly, one of the themes that I see recurring between titles is DOOM! It's a delight every time I discover one of these stories. Art, film, and music have a very important, symbiotic relationship and I find it tremendously gratifying to play historian and trace the threads of the past into the present and watch how they continue to evolve into the future.

I've also got a gang of cats that keep me in line and like to be very involved with the production of Doomed & Stoned, so much so that I've had to make cat beds in front of my monitor and in the drawer of one of my desks for a pair of twins I adopted from the pound some years back. They absolutely are enthralled with that desk of mind, whether I'm editing an article or interviewing someone for a show! Best of all, they love them some doom. They sleep soundly every time I've got the likes of Sea Bastard or Serpentine Path rumbling my speakers. Wouldn't trade 'em for all the vinyl in the world.

Meet The Team

North America

Billy Goate (Editor in Chief -- Oregon), Melissa Marie (Executive Editor -- Indiana), Frank Heredia (California), Elizabeth Gore (California), Stephanie V. Cantu (Texas), Chris Schanz (Washington), Papa Paul (Pennsylvania), Zachary Painter (Texas), Alex Watt (Oregon), Alyssa Herrman (Oregon), Hugo Guzman (California), Lara Noel (Chicago), Suzi Uzi (Chicago), Jamie Yeats (Montana), Stephanie Savenkoff (Oregon), Corey Lewis (Oregon), Colton Dollar (California), Adam Mundwarf (Oregon), Dan Simone (Ohio), Shawn Gibson (North Carolina), Tom Hanno (New York), Eric The Red (Oregon), Justin Cory (Oregon), Jamie LaRose (Florida).

International

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Doomed & Stoned would also like to thank contributions from Ben Edwards, Brian Schmidt, Bucky Brown, Cherry Darling, Chris Latta, Curtis Parker, David Glass, David Knottnerus, Doomstress Alexis, Doug McHardlane, Drew Smith, Eleanna Safarika, Gonzalo Brunelli, Gustav Zombetero, Hannah Rachel Lowe, Jake Wallace, Joey Demartini, Johnny Hubbard, Jules Maher, Leanne Ridgeway, Marcel van der Haar, Mathew Jacques, Mona Miluski, Patrick Alex Thorfinn, Paul Bracamonte, Randy Beach, Sabine Stangenberg, Sandra Mez Russotto, Sandy Wright, Sarah Eriksson, Sean Schock, Stef Dimou, Steph LeSaux, Steve Howe, Thäedra Clare, Wendy Yashira, Ygor Silva, and so many others who have supported us directly or indirectly.

Mona Miluski from High Fighter sporting our basic black

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boredzoomerpire · 3 years ago

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Found a nice ask meme on questionslisting, good.

Get to know me

1. Name: Lucian Michaelis

2. Age: 21

3. City that you live in: Won't say the city, but it's California.

4. What do most people not know about you? I'm not American by birth. Oh yeah, also the vampire thing. But I figure more people know that, bizarre as that is to think about.

5. What do most people know you for? I dunno. Being the baby-faced guy with two cats who doesn't go out in the sun. You'd have to ask my neighbors.

6. Hobbies: Gaming, writing, reading, singing. Dancing, somewhat.

7. What are your passions? Writing poetry and tending to cats. Music in general.

8. What do you search for in a significant other? A big heart and a sweet smile. Nice figure would be a plus, but ah well.

7. What are you most proud of? My poetry.

8. When was the last time you had a significant conversation with someone you love? I spent hours talking to my cats last night. Unless you mean love in *that* sense. Forgot that one.

9. Have you ever collected anything? What was it? I collect video games.

10. List 10 things off of your bucket list. See the Taj Mahal and the Pyramids, write dialog for a video game, find the love of my life, find a way to eat something again, can't think of more.

11. What was the last thing you learned? How to post something on this blasted website.

12. How many relationships have you been in? Three.

13. Turn ons: Bright eyes, sweet smile, sense of humor, so on.

14. Turn offs: An empty cranium or an empty conscience.

15. Favorite food: none

16. Favorite drink: take a guess.

17. What is the best birthday gift you have ever received? A puppet show

18. Are you optimistic or pessimistic? Quite optimistic.

19. Do you sleep during class? Yes.

20. What is the most expensive thing you own? My computer. I pieced it together, but it can't be less than a few grand.

21. What is the cheapest yet most useful thing you own? Old flip phone. Worthless now, but it still works well and so I can keep an Italian number so my grandparents in Europe can call.

22. How many times a day on average do you check your phone? A lot.

23. Text or call? Text.

24. Opinion on long distance? Not sure.

25. What is your definition of success? Being happy to wake up.

26. Favorite song? Too many to list

27. Favorite artist? Possibly Abney Park, not sure though.

28. Celebrity crush/crushes? None.

29. When was the last time you read for fun? Today.

30. Favorite flower? Peonies and roses.

31. What is the best gift you could receive right now? A car. My Honda is as old as I am.

32. Any guilty pleasures? Corny pop songs.

33. What is one thing you would like to change about yourself? I'd love to look slightly less like a kid.

34. What do you search for in a friend? I dunno. What happens happens.

35. How many times have you said "I love you" in the past month? Didn't keep count.

36. Where did you last go other than your room/home? Work.

37. Why do bad things happen to good people? Destiny has no morals.

38. In your opinion, what hurts more? Being left out or being stabbed in the eye? I can probably regenerate my eye better than my heart.

39. How many green shirts do you own? None. Green isn't my cup of tea.

40. Do you like anime? Sorta.

41. What do you invest the most time in? Gaming.

42. What was the name of the last book you read? The Book Thief. Brilliant.

43. What's the difference between loving and liking someone? You like someone's superficial manners and appearance, and love someone's flaws.

44. Where are you most productive? At my desk with some music in my ears.

45. List 3 things you enjoy doing with friends. Talking, drinking tea, gaming.

46. List 3 things you enjoy doing alone. Reading, listening to music, gaming.

47. Do you believe world peace will ever exist? Sure, when everyone's either dead or too tired of this shit.

48. Do you have any allergies? I used to be allergic to mosquitoes. No really. It wasn't fun. Oh yeah, and wasps.

49. When was the last time you cussed at someone? I cussed at Diane a couple hours ago. Coffins aren't scratching posts. Neither are arms

50. What was the last promise you made? I promised a friend I'd babysit their dog.

51. What was your last dream about? Waking up in a morgue. Fuck that nightmare.

52. If you won a trip to Hawaii and you could take 5 people with you, who would those 5 people be? Not sure.

53. How many countries have you visited? Italy, the United States, Scotland--that makes 3.

54. What is your favorite medium of art? (Music, dance, painting, etc.) Writing.

56. When was the last time somebody complimented you? Yesterday Tommy said my outfit looked nice.

56. If you switched bodies with someone, how would you recognize yourself? I'm the one with the over the top sense of style.

57. Do you consider yourself mature? No.

58. How many days in your life do you think you have wasted on tumblr? None. Yet.

59. What is your favorite quote? None in particular.

60. If you started a new religion and you had to create 3 rules or commandments for your new followers to live by, what would those 3 rules be? Don't hurt cats, don't be an ass, gift me an article of clothing at least once.

61. What is your greatest accomplishment? Getting Diane to tolerate Sardine.

62. Do you believe in the death penalty? Not really.

63. What are your goals for life? To find love and travel the Earth

64. What do you think your soulmate is doing right now? Not even sure I am

65. If you could live anywhere, where would you live? The place can be in an imaginary, fantasy, or the real world. | Not sure, truth be told. Possibly Vivec City from The Elder Scrolls. Dunno why, it seems cool.

66. What were you like in 2013? 8 years ago... oh god, I was a 13-year-old. 8th grade. Detentions on the daily, my stupid eggy ass saw confrontation as the "MaNlY" thing to do. Fucking hell, why did you have to dig that up? Nobody deserves to hear tales of stupid little boy Lucian.

67. Do you have a job? Yep. Graveyard shift at the nearby pharmacy. Dull, but I've got to have it.

68. Tell us a story about your childhood best friend. Ah yes, guy named Tommy. He's trying to break into acting now and starting to see some results. When we were kids, he and his sister staged a whole-ass puppet show for my birthday. Didn't tell me. I smile to this day when I think about it

69. If you could change one thing about society, what would it be? Making people more open-minded, that's for sure.

70. How many all-nighters have you pulled before? ...I've been pulling all-nighters every day for months now.

71. Is tumblr your favorite website? If not, then what is your favorite website? Spotify does it for my favorite website. Lots of music.

72. What is the craziest thing you would do for a million dollars? I don't much care for a million dollars. So long as I can pay rent and packs, I'm fine.

73. Does money equal happiness? Nah. I'm about ten times happier now scraping by than I was when I lived with my family and had all the money in the world.

74. How many times have you experienced true happiness in your lifetime? Often, but I don't really keep count.

75. How many times have you experienced true sadness in your lifetime? I haven't kept count of that either. Often. I'm an emotional guy.

76. What is the funniest joke you have ever been told? An Italian joke about the Last Supper.

77. When was the last time you looked at the news? This morning. Yay on the US being first in the medal rankings of the Olympics. Slightly less yay on Italy being 10th

78. If you could say one thing to the world, what would you say? "Good afternoon!" Everything past that sounds like too much of a hassle.

79. What is your favorite animal? Cats and bats.

80. If you could earn a million dollars by pretending to be dead for 3 years, would you do it? Ask someone who isn't dead.

81. What is one thing that everyone is bad at? Dunno.

82. What time do you normally sleep? How many hours of sleep do you usually get? I used to sleep pretty regularly, midnight to seven or eleven to six. The vampire thing isn't helping my sleep schedule any, though. I'm awake past 3 PM, and don't usually get over 5 hours of sleep.

83. Does age necessarily equal maturity? Nah, I've met some old idiots.

84. What is your favorite clothing store? There's a little clothing shop near where I live. I'd never wanna leave.

85. In the winter- beanies or gloves? Don't know, can't feel the cold (though contrary to popular belief, it gets cold in California)

86. Would you rather have wings or a fish tail? A fish tail. People weren't made to fly. Says the one who *can* fly, but I don't like it.

87. If you had the power to erase one person from the world so that nobody remembered him or her except you, would you do it? I don't know, I don't think I care enough.

88. What do you fear the most? Destruction.

89. How many digits of pi can you recite? 3.14. Yep, that's it.

90. If you could travel back to one year and relive it again, which year would it be? 2019, probably. No pandemic, stuff in my life started falling into place...

91. Describe yourself in one word. Restless

92. Describe your last victory. I beat a friend of mine at Pokemon Platinum. Nobody expects bug types.

93. What is the weirdest thing you have ever seen? I've seen a few. Couple UFOs.

94. What is something you will never forget? The stars. Shit, the stars. You simply don't forget the first time you see them with eyes like mine.

95. Would you rather forget all of the past or remember everything in vivid detail? I've already got a treasonous overly-vivid memory. Wouldn't trade it for forgetfulness.

96. Have you ever broken a bone before? Well, yes, I think I broke my arm a few weeks ago. Not entirely sure because I can't exactly go to a doctor, but pretty sure. I can say this: regenerating bone sucks even with a regenerating power.

97. Is it harder to love or to hate somebody? Meh. I tend to keep it to "like" and "dislike".

98. Coffee or tea? Tea's tastier, but coffee's more effective.

99. What are some little things that you do that have changed your life in a positive way? Funnily enough, lately I've definitely decided to work on my life. I've been taking care to brush my hair more, and to enjoy the small things more.

100. How many hours have you spend on tumblr today? Hell if I know.

#ask meme #in character

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dontshootmespence · 7 years ago

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Swan Song

A/N: The start of a Winter Olympian AU for @illegalcerebral‘s AU Challenge! Also, go follow her because everything she writes is awesome! That being said, I know I can’t make this into a one shot because I’m a masochist, but I’m not actually sure how long this is going to be.

P.S. I’m doing as much research into rules and regulations and the moves of each sport, but they may not all be completely accurate. I’m trying the best I can.

Chapter 1

Cue internal raging.

Emily Prentiss was flat out in the pipe having whiffed the Double McTwist 1260 again. She was so damn close. If she could land it in competition, she would be the first woman ever to do it. She wanted it so goddamn bad.

Pushing up, she hopped and slid down the rest of the pipe to where her coach was waiting. Markus Leskov was one of the best coaches in the world; the only reason she’d been able to afford his services was because her mother had pulled strings, but that’s all her mother had done for her.

For the last 18 years, Emily had worked her ass off to gain her mother’s attention; she knew it - she didn’t try to fight it. Granted she loved snowboarding too; she was pretty sure ice ran through her veins in more ways than one, but the reason she pushed herself so hard was because she hoped that her mother would finally peel herself away from her work for a split second to notice her again.

“Am I deluding myself?” She asked Marcus. “Can I hit this?”

Leskov hadn’t told her, mostly just because he was never the kind to show a ton of affection, but he had never trained a harder worker and doubt he ever would. “You can. You’re not leaning into enough because the backside rodeo isn’t as smooth as it could be. You come out of that smooth and you’ll nail it. Go again.”

“Get up, Prentiss!” Her teammate and competitor Allyson Reid screamed.

Snickering, Emily took a deep breath and saluted her coach before heading back up. “Got it, coach.” He believed in her...that should be enough, right?

“I love you, too,” Matt said into the phone. “Take care of the little man and the even newer little man.”

Kristy laughed as she ran her hand over her ever-protruding belly. “Love you. Bye, honey,” Kristy replied. Their second son, Jake, was due in a month, so she hadn’t been able to accompany Matt to the Olympics this year; she didn’t feel too bad though. His mother and father had gone with him and she and their eldest son David, would be watching on TV.

David was so excited about getting to see his father on screen. I’m gonna be just like daddy when I grow up, he’d said as he made a sign for him. Matt couldn’t see it obviously, but David was going to hold it up anyway and send the pictures from across the globe.

After hanging up the phone, Matt handed it off to his coach and sped around the rink. He was competing in the 5,000 and 10,000-meter races, as well as the team pursuit. His legs were going to turn into jelly, but it was nothing like the pain that Kristy went through before and would be repeating in a matter of weeks, so he considered him blessed and leaned into the turn.

“I’m in!”

Spencer Reid spun around, his hair smacking into his face as he turned to see his friend of 20 years, Jennifer Jareau. The previous day he’d been notified of his acceptance to the American skating team; he was in his early, almost mid-20s. In skating age, that was pretty ancient - almost retirement age, so this was his last shot, and it was JJ’s too. “You’re on the team?”

“Yes!” JJ skated toward him, her white practice dress floating gently in the breeze she created. “I made it! This is the last chance for us, yea?”

Nodding, Spencer spun her around and started going through his routine in his mind. “I’d say so, so let’s give it our all and go out with a bang, okay?” He grabbed her hands and spun around in a circle. He’d been practicing day in and day out for nearly 20 years straight. He’d been so close in the past and so had JJ; they’d worked too hard for this.

"I plan on it.”

“Damn right, you do!” JJ turned around to see her sister, Rosaline, and coach, Alex Blake glide out onto the ice. Rosaline won the gold at the 2010 Olympics; JJ always wanted to be like her. This Olympics was her last shot to do it.

As if she could sense JJ’s thoughts, Rosaline cupped her sister’s face in her hands. “Stop comparing yourself to me. Your routines are amazing. If you nail them, the gold is yours. They’re the most difficult of the women’s routines. You’ll practice and the moment you step on that ice you’re gonna let everything go and have fun because this is what you love, okay?”

JJ swallowed the lump in her throat and rested her head against her sister’s before shooting Alex a hesitant smile. Rosaline was right, but letting things go was easier said than done. “Alright, I’m ready to start. Let’s do this,” she said with a huff of air and an even deeper breath.

“What about Spencer?” Alex asked, reaching out to greet the young man she’d come to know over the years. "You done yet?”

“No, but I’m still waiting for Hotch to get here. He’s running late today,” Spencer replied. His coach, Aaron Hotchner had come down with the flu recently. He, his wife Haley, and son Jack had been passing it back and forth - leaving him to coach Spencer over Skype. “Spencer, I can’t coach you in person right now. I can’t risk getting you sick before you try out for the Olympics!”

That had actually been for the best, but it was going to be nice to see his coach again. Despite his seniority, Spencer considered Hotch a friend; he’d put faith in him and his abilities when so few would, and had even slashed the price of services after seeing Spencer’s mother work herself to the bone to give her son and daughter the best shot at succeeding in the sport. “You start. I’ll wait for Hotch and watch your routine. I don’t think I’ve seen the whole thing yet.”

“And I haven’t seen yours either”

“You will.”

Searing pain ripped through her the second she hit the ground. “Elle Greenaway, 19, of the United States is down!” The announcer was speaking. What happened?

“Do you know your name?”

“Elle Greenaway,” she replied softly, tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. She was going on her gold medal run. “What happened?”

“Freak accident. One of your skis flew off mid jump.” In a panic, she looked down; she could barely feel her lower half. “Don’t move,” the man insisted.

“I can’t feel my legs...I can’t feel my legs...I can’t feel my legs...”

As her feet hit the ground, she smiled. Her father jumped up and down, screaming about how amazing his “little girl” was until she skied up to him, embracing him. “How did that feel?” He asked. Beside him, her mother was sobbing.

“Good,” she breathed. “So good.”

“We couldn’t be more proud of you, Elle,” her mother said, sniffling.

On that day eight years ago, she had fractured one her lower vertebrae; it took years of physical therapy and additional years of competing again to get back to where she’d been, but she was here. The Sochi Olympics had passed her by, and for a time following the 2014 games she found herself in a slump, but with her parents’ encouragement, she pushed through. Once again, she had a shot at gold.

Her skate hit the ice and they both screamed.

Penelope Alvez nee Garcia screeched in delight. Her mouth dropped open and her husband came up behind her, hugging her tightly. “Increible, mi reina,” he whispered softly.

“You too, my love,” she replied, reaching back and rubbing his cheek with the palm of her hand. They had been practicing together for more than two decades now, and only now had they been able to consistently land one of the hardest moves in the art of pairs skating - the throw triple axel. “We really have a shot this year. We could win.”

“As long as I’m with you, I always win,” Luke said.

Penelope snorted, her face blushing under the adulation of her husband and the cool breeze coming off the ice as they skated. “Flattery will get you everywhere.” This was going to be their last Olympics together. Presumably, they’d always be skating; both felt like it was in their blood, but after this year, they wanted to focus on something else - starting a family.

For the last year, they’d been happily married, and both husband and wife wanted nothing more than to add to their family and introduce all the little Alvezes to the sport they loved so much. “Now all we have to do is make sure we nail the throw triple axel, the death spiral, the 2 overhead lifts, the jump sequence, the pair spin and the choreography and we have this in the bag,” Penelope said, shrugging under the pressure.

“The throw was the hardest and we’re doing it consistently. We’ve got this.” Luke had more than enough faith in them for the both of them. Years from now, he was sure they’d be able to tell their kids about the time mommy and daddy won gold at the Olympics.

It felt weird not being on the slopes. Kate Callahan had never done any other activity during her years in school and beyond. After seeing the Olympics as a child, specifically Heidi Preuss, she told her parents she wanted to ski. They’d tried getting her into other sports as well. They’d attempted to get her into musical instruments. But she wanted nothing else than to ski. “You think you’re ready?” Her coach, Maureen Zechmeister asked as they clinked glasses. It wasn’t booze, but it was a toast all the same. She only asked because she wanted to gauge Kate’s own belief in herself.

“I think I’ve got this. I’m gonna medal. I can feel it,” she smiled, taking a sip of her Diet Coke. In 2014, she nearly qualified, but came in fourth during qualifications. The past four years had been non-stop training and she’d qualified in first.

She and Maureen arrived in Pyeongchang a few days ago and had been training ever since, but Maureen was not about training oneself into the ground. “I do too. You’ve been training hard.” Her parents emerged from around the corner and waved. “You ready to eat?”

“Ummm...always.”

“Now, what did you do wrong?” Rossi asked as he approached Derek sprawled out on the slope.

Like his sister Desiree, Derek sought constant perfection in the hopes of proving their living mother and now deceased father proud. Little did they realize that both had always and would always remain proud of the three children they loved so much. David had first hand knowledge; he’d started as Derek’s coach after his father died. Promise me you’ll help his mother and look out for him.

Derek looked up, his brow furrowed in aggravation. “I’m trying to hard to make the best time and I’m bombing,” he said flatly, referring to the act of going recklessly fast down the slope.

“Exactly,” Rossi replied. “You want to carve, not bomb. You have this; you’re just pushing yourself too hard.”

Extending his hand, Rossi helped Derek up and caught his attention. “Hey, kid. Look at me.”

Derek was frustrated, his eyes scanning far off in the distance. He knew what Rossi was going to say and although he appreciated it, it wasn’t what he wanted to hear right now.

“What am I, wood?” Rossi chuckled, slapping Derek’s shoulder. Once he had his attention, he continued. “You have all the skill necessary to win every event you’re in.” He hated seeing Derek so heavy with emotion. “I know why you try as hard as you do. He is proud. No matter whether you win or not. You know what he said to me all the time? Practically every day before he went to work?”

“No, what?” He actually didn’t know. “He told me he was proud all the time, encouraged me and everything , but...that’s a parent thing.”

Rossi huffed and leaned against the pole. “No, that’s a good parent thing,” he replied. Rossi was with Joy how Derek’s father had been with him. “He encouraged you and supported you and lived his life the way he did because he believed, and I quote ‘children are apt to live up to what their parents believe of them.’ He thought the world of you and your sisters, and you’ve already exceeded expectations, okay?”

Jabbing his poles into the ground, Derek took a deep breath of the cool mountain air and smiled despite himself. “Deep down, I know it. It’s just...”

“It’s hard,” Rossi finished. “He’s never far from your mind.”

“Exactly.”

It astounded Tara Lewis that her father could watch her come down the track in Olympic record pace for luging and yet say nothing, but this is how it had always been. He attempted to be fatherly by physically placing himself in her presence, but he never really showed her any indication of pride - only resentment that she had succeeded where he brother had failed.

Steven had always been the favorite - typical son over daughter bullshit, but honestly, Tara was pretty sure that if her father hadn’t been exactly how and who he was, she wouldn’t be where she is now. Tara worked harder and harder every day with her coach, Alexandra Heismer (who was more of a parent than her father had ever been), in order to succeed proudly, and in his face. “Olympic record pace, Dad!” She exclaimed, purposely pumping her fists in the face of his disappointment. “At this rate, I could pull out a world record run.”

Pulling off her helmet, she let her hair fly free and smiled up at the board. “Opening ceremony is tonight, so I’m gonna stop on a high today and go get ready.”

“You think you’ve trained enough?” Her father asked. There was a distinct hint of jealousy in his voice, not for himself, but for Steven.

Tara nodded as she walked away. In 2010, she placed 5th. Four years later, she won bronze. This year was her golden run, and hopefully 2022 would follow suit. “Definitely. It’s my year.”

It was the Americans turn to enter the stadium. Everyone gathered into a large group, intermingling by sport. “Ready?” Tara asked the woman standing next to her.

“Oh me?” Emily replied. “Yup, I’m ready to go. What are you competing in?”

“Luge. You?”

“Snowboard cross and halfpipe.” Emily took in the look on the other woman’s face - almost free. “You look happy.”

“I am,” Tara replied. “I’ve worked my ass off, and I can’t wait to shove my success in my father’s face.”

Emily snorted as the group began to walk. “You have parent issues too? And we’re walking together. Fantastic,” she said. “Although I live and breathe snowboarding, I am wondering if my mother will actually give a shit if I medal.”

As they continued on, they found out that they were competing, for the most part, on opposing days. “You cheer me on, I’ll cheer you?” Tara asked.

“Sounds good to me.”

“What about me?” Ally butted in after giving her brother a tackle hug. She’d been training so hard she hadn’t seen him since they landed in Pyeongchang the week before.

They marched onward with the rest of the American athletes, meeting up with people they’d known for years and introducing themselves to those they’d never met. The two women were familiar with Spencer Reid and Jennifer Jareau, considering that figure skating tended to be the most spoken about winter sport. Emily had met Spencer before, but do to the Reid twins both being involved in sports, they never really got the chance to know each other. She was stunned that she’d never met Derek Morgan before though, she had heard his name in passing.

In turn, Spencer and JJ met up with Luke and Penelope, having last seen them at their wedding the year before. Though they lived across the US from each other, they kept in touch after meeting years earlier at the World Championship.

JJ also saw Elle Greenaway from across the group and ran over with Spencer in tow to introduce herself and tell her how inspirational she found her. “I watched your first Olympics when I was 16, and my heart broke for you, but I’ve been following your career ever since. Spencer and I are actually going to be there tomorrow when you compete.”

“That’s amazing! It’s so nice to met you both,” Elle replied with tears in her eyes.

They were nearing the halfway point when Matt introduced himself to JJ and Spencer introduced himself to Kate. The entire group of nearly 300 American athletes delving into random conversations about their sports or what they happened to have for lunch that day. It was somehow small scale and the largest scale possible.

It didn’t matter whether or not it was their first games, their second or without a doubt their last, walking at the opening ceremony and competing as a whole left them all euphoric - pressure be damned.

@jamiemelyn @coveofmemories @iammostdefinitelyonfire26 @unstoppableangel8 @rmmalta @lukeassmanalvez @veroinnumera @lookwhatyoumademequeue @kalie-bee @remember-me-forever-silent-angel @beereadsthings @cherry-loves-fanfic @bitchinprentiss

#spencer reid #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #david rossi #penelope garcia #derek morgan #alex blake #kate callahan #elle greenaway #erin strauss #matt simmons #tara lewis #luke alvez #garvez #swan song

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aditijha6567-blog · 4 years ago

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My Lovely People

I was born in a State of India during the mid of the winter Olympics held in the Salt Lake City, in Feb of 2002. During my birth, I wasn’t liked by my paternal guardians, because I was a girl. When I grew 8 months I was left at my maternal guardian’s home in East of India. My childhood there was fantastically bewildering. My grandfather worked in ECL a Subsidiary of Coal India, so he got a quarter to stay. It was a big campus with a ground in its centre. I don’t quite remember how were my 3 years there, it must have been quite boring I imagine, afterall I was so small.

After three years, there came a family, unaware of the fact that they will meet a peevish. I got someone finally, to bug all the time. The family got four members, the father, mother and two children. The Elder child who was a sister, stayed with her paternal guardians for her higher studies, and the son stayed with his parents who too was very older than me. I being the incommode use to always stay around them. To everyone they were just neighbours, but for me they became so much more, can’t give a word.

The Head of the family, whom I address with Uncle, is a brilliant and an incredible person. Like him is none, and will never be, especially not around me. The Lady was the sweetest of all in the campus, I saw no one so alluring and inviting the way she was. The brother and sister together made a good team; they were caring, loving to all and extraordinarily brilliant like their parents. What a perfect family they make, seeing which I was astound, even to this day. I lived the best part out of my term of 19 years on Earth with them in just 3 years, which I can bet. I recollect the moments when I have made them all go crazy, Uncle Use to make me play even after his tiring day. Big brother handled my entire nuisance like someone own. Aunty was the worst affected, cause she being the one I disturbed the whole day. I always felt like home in their abode. And to my utter shock when I grew, I came to know that Uncle was senior to my grandfather, yet he was so grounded and loving towards me, being a great boss. The time when you are child is the most carefree time of your life, the phase in which you can do anything without thinking and most importantly live expectation free.

I remember crying and missing them alone after I left with my parents to Delhi. Things didn’t end up good for me, because they weren’t around. People say these things don’t happen in reality, all the feelings you have for anyone isn’t something to give much attention. Now after years I met them again recently. The moment I saw Uncle again, I was stone freeze, in reality only God knows what was going in my mind and heart. My happiness was touching seven skies. I had all those moments gushing in my head again. The last time when I saw him and this time were way too different. I wanted to cry and say it aloud how much I missed him and all. Things have changed drastically, now I’m in my teen years, and that too being a girl. To anything I’ll say and do will be mistaken. Being a girl is not only a challenge but sometimes a curse, you just can’t express yourself freely. Every time you utter a word, things aren’t going to stay the way it has been. People’s perspectives change, their behaviour changes. We have to keep every feelings hidden, every emotions which get’s heightened they need to be crushed within.

Finally, after years I got the power of expressing myself through writings. I told Uncle and Aunt, that how much I love and care for them, that I can do anything for them. Yes, I have written ‘n’ numbers of poems and letters concerning both. The expression that I got in ways of writing is something that has become my strength right now. Sitting beside Uncle and Aunt brings next level of peace and satisfaction. I have lived in so many states and have met so many people, and I bet no one’s like them, and I swear no one will ever replace their place in my life.

But I’m sacred, as to they will take it all my childish fancy. I wonder why anyone has to ever think that, cause whatever changes are the circumstances not the feelings, untill and unless something very out of the way truths are revealed. People just pretend that they don’t feel the way they use to, but believe me it’s all a lie. May be you will not see or talk to them so often but you will always feel the same from the beginning till the end. I’m a girl and so my words will definitely have a different and sometimes otherwise impact on things or people. I wish I was a child again carefree. We don’t grow alone with us grows the expectations of people and that really brings pressure.

It was different staying with them after years. Beginning was tough as I have to think several things before uttering a word, and when I really started to open up, I came home again. Time waits for none, so how it can wait for me. Whatever I write I share them, I tell them that I’m alone and just a call would do enough. Uncle is the head of subsidiary of Coal India and being a CMD off course it brings so much of pressure. You end up having no time for anything, yet he read all of my write-ups, and applauded me as if I’m extraordinarily talented. His gestures mean so much, especially when not even a single person has time for me. My family didn’t read much of my writings, which seem too awkward and difficult to register. What matters to me most is the time Uncle and Aunt usually takes out for me, regardless their busy schedule.

To be honest I’m no one to them. It’s their highness that they take out time and listens to me. God surround me with people like them, with whom I feel so complete. Thank You to God and to Uncle and Aunt for being so generous, kind and loving me so much, making me feels like your own. ”Right now I’m in no position to do anything for you, but at least I’m in position to make a promise; wherever I be or whatever I’ll be, you always got me. I’ll always be at your service my dearest and loveliest people. I wish God give me that strength to be of some help to you. I really want to do something for you, my Uncle and Aunt, after I do some favour upon my life. You both are mine and will forever be.”

Signing off

Aditi (Ray)

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95linenet · 7 years ago

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[Bucket List Project]

(n.) a number of experiences or achievements that a person hopes to have or accomplish during their lifetime

Everyone has those wishes which we desire to make true one day, even if it takes years. We tend to have this habit of creating a list, a list which we can only accomplish a half of or just simply create feeble excuses for why we didn’t even begin. So here we are, presenting you with our very own bucket list of scenarios, quotes, and prompts. Now let’s see who is brave enough to complete this bucket list without creating excuses!

Go treasure hunting

Go on a scary theme park ride

Go ice skating

Learn a new instrument

Get a new hobby

Initiate a friendship with someone you didn’t expect to be friends with

Go to an Olympic game

Start A Movement On a Cause You Believe In

Personally Know Someone Famous

Take a road trip

“Wanna get to the other side of the earth holding your hand” - Spring Day

“Wanna put an end to this winter” - Spring Day

“I want to have the sea” - Sea Hidden Track

“I want to hold you once more before you disappear” - Crystal Snow

“I hope tomorrow will be different from today, I’m just wishing” - Tomorow

“Don’t be trapped in someone else’s dream” - N.O

“My mind is posssessed by the word success” - So 4 more

“I want to remain, I want to dream more” - Awake

“While you were all teasing the keyboard, I fulfilled my dreams” - Born Singer

“I may fall down and get hurt, but I still run endlessly towards my dream” - Young Forever

“Why do I have to do a tattoo with you? It’s your bucket list!”

“We see each other every day. Why isn’t ‘meet the love of my life’ ticked on your bucket list?”

“If you want to travel to (choose a place), then let’s go!”

“No matter what it is, we’ll do it together.”

“I’ve never made a list, I just do what I want whenever I want. You should do the same.”

“Can’t we just imagine that and scratch it off the list?”

“I wish I could rewind and do it all over again.”

“What if you could only choose one of these? What would you do?”

"My only wish is to spend one more day with you. No crying, no arguing. Just one last day together.”

“Bungee jump? I thought you were afraid of heights.”

Rules

You must be a member of this network to participate in this project

Kim Taehyung and/or Park Jimin must be present in the content created (as this is a BTS 95 line project).

Tag your creation with #95line.net along with #95LineBucketList within the first 5 tags in order for it to be reblogged onto the net

Reblog this post so we are able to see who is participating in this project

Most importantly, remember to have fun!

Note

The point of this project is to provide a new challenge for the new year. How these challenge works are for content creators to use their imagination and create content (eg. fanfics, gifs, gfx, moodboard, videos, edits) in relation to the scenarios, quotes and prompt provided.

Example 1 (Scenario): Go on a scary theme park ride Create a moodboard of a cute date to a theme park with one of the 95 line members. To spice it up, maybe add some gifs.

Example 2 (Quote): “I want to have the sea” Create an innovative gfx using the overall notion of this quote

Example 3 (Prompt): “If you want to travel to (choose a place), then let’s go!” Write a fanfic of 95 line members and others going on an adventure. Get as fluffy, angsty or smutty as you want!

Now let's get that creative mind of yours working and let the innovative ideas flow!

If any further questions, feel free to message admins, Jana (@pocketofjeonbunny) and Deby (@deboracorrea25), or the network!

#95line.net #95LineBucketList

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elliemarchetti · 7 years ago

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Winter Olympics RQ AU - Week 1

@maveicen hope you like this.

I have to admit I’m not the best in writing about sports because the last sport I practiced was hip hop dance and I was in middle school, but I know a little about jealousy, about fear of losing and most of I know how people feel when they’re afraid to disappoint others but mostly themselves.

Words: 2463

Getting to be summoned for the Olympic Games had never been Diana's great ambition, at least until her sister had had to stop on cross-country skiing and her mother had not died during a flood. The media had not even wasted time trying to find out her name: it had been a fatality, and the wave had been so small that it had only caused damage to homes closer to the riverside. It was not news, just one broken life. Yet the loss of her mother had left a deep scar in Diana's heart and had pushed her to commit herself more, to let go of those futile battles she tried to fight every day, and she had put body and soul into sport. She did not care that biathlon was not the most beloved discipline; it was what she did best, and she would do it until one knee broke, just like had happened to Madeline. At least, this was what she believed: it was the first day of competition, and fortunately, they had decided to start with hockey, so that she could rest, at least twenty-four hours, after the long journey. The Olympic village was beautiful, although she did not particularly appreciate the choice of accommodation, but it had to be all to make a scene, to give journalists something to talk about; you do not put near two bitter enemies without wanting to create a bit of havoc. As if she had called some members of the opposing team, she saw the two favorite ice dancers of that year, Evangeline Samos and Elane Haven, emerge from nowhere. They were the first couple of women to skate together in the history of the Olympics, but times had changed, and Volo Samos, the trainer of those two vipers, and father of the youngest, was very influential in the world of skating and knew how to be really persuasive. Or maybe it was his money? In any case, he had joined the best ice dancers in America and created that wicked match.

"Diana Farley." called Evangeline, making the direct interest roll her eyes. She did not want problems in general, and certainly not with them; they were the most loved, the favorites, while she could only hope for the bronze. With any kind of confrontation, she would have destroyed her public image with her own hands, and that was not what she wanted: being an Olympics athlete gave her the possibility to talk about real issues, it had given her visibility that a girl who came from nowhere would have had no other way of having, so she was not meant to lose it only because of two stupid spoiled girls.

"Ready to shoot on the public?" Elane asked, with a malicious smile. Diana did not say anything, but she wondered if someone really, other than her evil companion, would never laugh at her jokes.

"I was wondering," continued Evangeline, accelerating the pace to stay by her side "if your father would not have preferred a son, you know, with two females and both mediocre in what they do ..."

Diana turned and Evangeline smiled victoriously. She had touched an open nerve. Diana bit her tongue and reminded herself she was near the hockey center; she just had to be patient, and that torture would be over quickly.

“No one likes biathlon.” said Elane, putting herself on her left, so as to appear, in case they were approached by journalists, a simple group of athletes who was heading towards the upcoming hockey game of the group a. “Neither your mother, if she was still alive, would watch you.”

Diana knew she had just set herself good intentions, but any attempt to keep the perfect athlete's facade went to hell when that little bitch named her mother.

“How dare you?!” she exclaimed, turning to shove the girl.

Evangeline was immediately at her side, but two brats with thin arms and delicate faces would not have stopped Diana.

"Diana!" someone called her, distracting her. It was a boy from her own team, but she did not remember what discipline he was competing for. Neither did he really have to be among the favorites.

"Do you think it's worth it?" he asked, once he was close enough. "They just need attention, I'm sure their boyfriends do not have much time for them now that they have to prepare to lose shamelessly against our team."

Diana smiled at her savior, but still tried to avoid the two girls' eyes. Shade, or at least was what she thought his name was, was right. Evangeline was frequenting Cal Calore, the captain of the American hockey team, and Elane had been with her partner's brother, an older member of the same team, for a long time, now.

“Look” replied Evangeline faking amusement, but both Diana and Shade saw she was shocked “the best couple of losers I’ve ever have the misfortune to lay my eyes on. Skeleton, right?” she asked to Shade. He didn’t answered, so Diana thought she was right.

“No one likes skeleton either.” added Elane, and Diana hoped she could punch that girl, one day or another. She was even worse than Evangeline, and it was she the strongest part of the couple.

"Come on, let's leave the two lovebirds to share memories of their sad families." said Evangeline, taking her friend arm in arm. Elane gave them a victorious smile, and Diana had to concentrate on the back of her savior so as not to chase those two witches and remind them of what respect was. Only when they were gone Shade turned, looking at her with his big amber eyes.

"I think from now on you need an official escort." he joked, but Diana passed him without even thanking him.

"I can handle it very well alone."

"I see." he replied, laughing. "If I had not stopped you, you'll have to be expelled for a fight."

Diana froze and turned to face him.

"Can they do it?"

Shade nodded, but did not say anything else. They walked together, silently, up to the hockey center.

The hockey center was packed. Mare squeezed between a couple to reach Kilorn, who arrived before her. The game had already started, but they could not prevent the current best female snowboarder to enter to see the game of her team, where two of her brothers played, one, moreover, as captain.

She was first classified in the elimination of the half pipe and as soon as her father had given her permission to run to the hockey center she had called a taxi, paying even more than necessary to make him exceed the speed limits, albeit slightly. She was not the kind of young athlete whom success gets to her head, or pretends that everything is due, but she had privileges, she recognized it, and in some cases, she certainly did not mind exploiting them.

She was sure her brother’s team would win such an easy match, and they surely didn’t needed her support, Bree had also played in the previous edition of the Games, while Tramy had nevertheless been summoned, even though as a reserve. Mare was proud of her family, and certainly one of the most devoted fans of the Canadian hockey team. She knew that the most important match would be against the US, which since Cal Calore had been elected captain seemed unstoppable. Mare knew all the gossip about that team, mainly thanks to her sister Gisa, who never spared an opportunity to throw a few newspaper under her nose and to blame her that no one speak of the Canadian just because their lives were monotonous and boring. Mare, honestly, was fine like that: of course, her father was her coach, but he did not pressurize to get her into the Olympic hockey team. Not that Cal Calore was not good. At home, she had found herself searching on internet for a video of his team's matches, to understand what the whole world saw in that young boy, barely twenty, and found herself thinking that, indeed, he had talent. He had talent on the ice and, as she noticed during that match, he also had talent as a strategist. It all happened by chance: Mare got up at the end of the second time to go to the bathroom, and took more than expected to find it, partly because of the fatigue caused by the eliminations, partly because she was definitely distracted by all the people who seemed whisper her name. It did not happen often to her to be recognized on the street, but it had to be simpler there. Snowboarding was not skating, people have to wear big jackets and protections that make them barely recognizable and the faces of the participants are only seen at the awards, if they win a medal. Yet those people seemed to recognize her anyway, and at first, she was flattered, but in the end, she ended up being annoyed. However, during her wanderings, her gaze fell on a tall and muscular boy, with the posture of a soldier. He was writing on a block notes, and Mare just leaned forward to read; he took notes on the game and not on both teams but only on the Canadian one. Only when he turned, feeling observed, she noticed whom he was.

"Honored to know that the future half pipe champion is interested in what I do." he commented, amused. How presumptuous!

"Do not you bet on your compatriot?" she asked.

"Not even a penny." the boy answered, with a broad smile. He was nicer when he smiled.

"I hope you'll come see my game too."

Mare shook her head, and he seemed disappointed.

"Tomorrow at midday I have the first knockout rounds."

"Then do not let me down." he answered, and without even saying goodbye he returned to focus on the Canadian team's tactics.

Mare came back from the bathroom a few seconds before the third and last period started.

"Why did you put so much?" asked Kilorn, barely giving her a glance. He was really taken from the game.

"I met Cal Calore." she answered, trying to show off a casual tone. Hearing that name, Kilorn turned wide-eyed: he said he hated him, but Mare was convinced that he had a kind of veneration towards him.

"What was he doing on our first game?"

"He took notes." replied Mare, and she felt stupid for not having thought of it before him. She should have advised her brothers.

“It’s unfair.” said Kilorn, disgusted.

“It’s not unfair, it’s just he’s smarter than us.” replied Mare, interrupting the conversation, and starting to act as the crazy fan (and sister) she was.

The Canadian’s new goalkeeper was capturing Maven’s attention. He was terribly good, and the opponent team hasn’t scored a goal. He must’ve been older than him, but not too much, maybe a couple years.

“Who has the puck?” asked his mother, and he replied it was the host team. He didn’t wanted to stop looking at that guy. Usually, he did not like hockey, mainly because his half-brother played it since he was still in swaddling clothes and then because it was such a disdainful, physical sport. He preferred skating, where maniacal precision was everything. But the movements of that boy, as he had even stopped that wrist shot, were phenomenal.

"Mistaken." his mother corrected him. "What do I bring you here to do if you're not even attentive about the game?" the woman asked, but Maven, for the first time, did not feel the need to apologize, or at least he did not do so until she kept hissing his name all the time.

"What is it that distracts you so much?" Elara finally asked, following her son's gaze.

"The Canadian goalkeeper is definitely stronger than ours."

The woman's eyes narrowed to two slits and without saying anything she stood up, ready to move away from the track. Maven was glad for that moment of breath and continued to look at that boy whose name he was sure would soon discover. It took very little time: the following day, a blurred but decidedly reconciled picture portrayed the boy talking to the American team's trainer, appeared in every newspaper. The new Canadian goalkeeper had sold himself? Or had he sold the whole team? What shady deals revolved around that picture? Maven had no doubt that it was her mother who orchestrated everything: she was a sorceress in that sort of thing.

Two days later, Thomas Smith was excluded from the Canadian team, despite the protests of his comrades: they were all ready to swear that he would never do such a thing.

On the fourth day of the Winter Olympics, the accused released an interview where he revealed that the coach of the American team had approached him only to compliment his skills as a goalkeeper, and to remind him that, if one day he got tired of Canada, he could always move to America, being sure he would be able to quickly get citizenship and a permanent position on the team. Tiberias Calore tore his words to pieces, in world vision; no one seemed to care who spoke the truth, the reason was given to the most powerful man, and Thomas's career was cut short before it can even start.

On the second day of games for the hockey American team, Ptolemus Samos, the best striker, began to complain of intermittent cramps in his right leg. Diana, who had certainly not decided to give up with her revenge, waited until the end of the match, and hid in the crowd, just to hear the instructions of his coach. She did not trust that man, who had managed to break the career of one of her teammates with a few words and a few smiles, so she followed one of his best athletes, trying not to be seen. She knew that eventually Shade, who had really come to follow her wherever she went, would have noticed her too long absence, but she still had a good amount of time.

She noticed, not without a certain amazement, that while the boy was approaching the room where the physiotherapist was waiting for him, the leg seemed to feel better, and his limp diminished visibly, almost disappearing.

She stood hidden behind the corner, when she heard him knocking at a door. She didn’t needed to see the whole scene: their shadows can’t lie. A tiny figure threw herself on the young man's neck and he grabbed her with his hands and kissed her passionately, and Diana was sure it could not be Elane: the two witches were skating just at that moment.

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sockparade · 4 years ago

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the gap

(CNN: Minneapolis Police Department's Third Precinct was set on fire by protestors during the night of May 28, 2020)

This is maybe a mark of my persistent immaturity, but I’m slowly (probably too slowly) realizing that I’ve mistaken my individual god-given ability to form an opinion to mean that I’m the actual audience for everything. I don’t know if it has to do with the exorbitant number of hours in my childhood that I spent watching TV and reading books instead of living in real life. Or whether it’s my self-centered nature that I just never grew out of. Or perhaps it’s the unshakeable result of my young adulthood being bathed in the explosion of social media where every platform (AIM, AsianAvenue, Xanga, Geocities, Wordpress, Yelp, Flickr, Tumblr, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram) seemed like another microphone specifically designed to help me share my reaction, review, or analysis about everything I could possibly encounter in my life.

Part of me wonders if I am maybe too eager to be off the hook, but Jia Tolentino makes a pretty compelling case for that last reason in her delightful but at times painful collection of essays, Trick Mirror: Reflections on Self Delusion.

Here are two incredibly insightful excerpts from her essay, “The I in the Internet”:

“In part out of a desire to preserve what’s worthwhile from the decay that surrounds it, I’ve been thinking about five intersecting problems: first, how the internet is built to distend our sense of identity; second, how it encourages us to overvalue our opinions; third, how it maximizes our sense of opposition; fourth, how it cheapens our understanding of solidarity; and finally, how it destroys our sense of scale.”

“In the run-up to the 2016 election and increasingly so afterward, I started to feel that there was almost nothing I could do about ninety-five percent of the things I cared about other than form an opinion-- and that the conditions that allowed me to live in mild everyday hysterics about an unlimited supply of terrible information were related to the conditions that were, at the same time, consolidating power, sucking wealth upward, far outside my grasp.”

I think regardless of where an individual is on their personal journey with experiencing racism or becoming anti-racist, the events of the past few weeks have surfaced various realizations. That has certainly been the case for me.

I want to make an effort to write more about my process in hopes that it’s helpful to others who are also processing. I’ll start by sharing four of my realizations here.

The first one is really basic. I value my own opinion too damn much.

This sounds kind of embarrassing to say out loud but I had to take myself aside last week and give myself an earful. Haha, I know, that sounds like someone who’s been sheltering in place for too long. But in all seriousness, I really did have to chew myself out. It went something like this.

Why am I trying so hard to decide which parts of a protest I am okay with? Why am I trying to figure out where I land on some kind of protest supporter likert scale? It feels like I need a 50 question Buzzfeed quiz to tell me what kind of protest I fully support so I can feel less hypocritical and internally consistent within myself. It feels like I’m mentally creating some kind of Pantone color card deck for political protests and then holding my brain and my heart up to each swatch, desperately trying to find a match. Why?

Why am I treating such an emotional and painful protest like some kind of a la carte brunch menu I can order from? Was the protest peaceful? Socially distant? Were folks wearing masks? Did they obtain the proper permits? Did they cause any traffic or block any freeways? Okay but were any ambulances blocked or did anyone lose their job because of the traffic? Did the signs seem hopeful and solution-oriented or did they mostly say “Fuck the Police” and “ACAB”? Did they blatantly break curfew? But was the curfew announced with enough notice? Did they set any fires? Was it buildings or just dumpsters and trashcans? Did they destroy any cars? Were they cop cars or civilian cars? How much graffiti is there to clean up? Did it seem like the protestors provoked the violence or did the police? Do you have videos of that? Was there looting? Okay but was it just big box stores like Target that were being looted or was it looting of mom and pop businesses too?

Like I can hear myself ordering a protest like, “Yeah, so I’m going to go with the non-permitted protest but with clearly identified local organizers who I recognize. I’m okay with you leaving in smashed windows and burning buildings but if they’re mom and pops, can we make sure it’s only places with good insurance policies? Hmmm and maybe lemme add a side of major freeway blockage but only if no one gets hurt and it’s for less than an hour. Oh, and can I substitute the graffiti for dumpster fires? Oh yeah and can you also make sure there are catchy slogans on a few signs or cute pictures of kids holding signs so it doesn’t all feel too bleak? Like, why the fuck do I do this?

Why do I think my personal judgement of a protest is of upmost importance? Why do nonBlack people feel appointed to judge and assess the efficacy or nature of a Black Lives Matter protest? Why do we critique the strategy of a political movement? It’s like we’re that casual viewer of ice skating who gets super vocal with their crappy commentary on ice skating every four years during the Winter Olympics? Do you really think you’re qualified to judge that triple lutz? Get the fuck out of here.

Or worse, when the judgement comes out in a protective voice? Like, oh no, I’m worried the white people in power and watching at home are going to dismiss it because of the rioting and looting, it’s going to look so bad. That it wasn’t strategic to the cause because it was a bad look. Like what the hell? Why are we still protecting and upholding the broken situation of power being held in whiteness?

How many times have you read or heard someone say they believe Black Lives Matter and support the “peaceful protesters” but want to be clear that they do not condone the rioting and looting? Condone? Do people realize how condescending that word is? I mean, who is giving you that power to condone or not condone? Does the movement need our approval?

I was dizzy from reading the articles my nervous neoliberals friends (of all races) were posting on my social media feeds blaming the riots on “outside agitators” and anarchists. And then I started to read all the counter articles being shared about how there’s a historical pattern of this media tactic to blame rioting and looting on outside agitators, anarchists, and ANTIFA in order to distract and delegitimize the movement as a whole. And then Trump started to blame ANTIFA! Wait, why was Trump and my neoliberal friends agreeing on something? Was this signaling the inevitable end of the Democratic Party? Haha but honestly, I appreciated that dizziness and that panicky frenzy because it snapped me out of trying to rationalize everything and helped me realize that trying to figure out whether I was “okay with rioting and looting” was the wrong fucking question.

Delegitimize to who? What is the purpose of a riot? What would be considered the success or failure of a riot? Do we subconsciously think protests are at their core some kind of performance for us? An audition for our allegiance? A persuasive act to convince people to join their movement? A ploy to get politicians to change their hearts and minds? How have we gotten it so twisted? Since when is someone smashing a window an appeal towards intellectual persuasion? Isn’t it a clear signal that we’re past that?

I really had to scrutinize why I was reading so many different takes on rioting and looting in a desperate search to try to find a framework I could comfortably agree with. How many articles like “In Defense of Looting” (a really good article btw) did I need to read before I could feel confident in justifying my attitude towards looting? Like how oppressed does a group of people need to be in order to justify looting? Ugh. Was that the question I was asking? And was that really the best question for me to be focused on?

Eventually I had to say to myself, “Yo, you are not actually the audience for these protests and your opinion is not the most important outcome here.” I mean, yes, let me be clear in saying that it’s important for me to form a personal opinion so that I can move from spectator to co-conspirator in fighting and challenging racism. And yes, I need to put in the work to form a thoughtful opinion that isn’t just the result of scrolling social media for a few hours each day. I do think folks can cause harm trying to do antiracism work when it’s built on emotional impulse or plain ignorance. But at the end of the day my specific opinion on the ethics of rioting and looting is not what ultimately matters in this Black Lives Matter movement.

Why?

This is my second realization. Simply put: The rioting and looting was effective.

I genuinely believe that the images of people protesting in the street, the smashed windows and the buildings set on fire did something to people’s collective imagination. I wonder how much of the protests and riots were also a release of frustration towards an unjust economic system and a untrustworthy government. Was it just pent up energy or was it because as a country we saw 36 million people file for unemployment in the previous two months leading up to the protests? People will probably write their entire PhD dissertations on this topic one day.

No matter what the analysis is of the factors that led up to the protests, the riots are the reason why the protests received extended news coverage and brain space despite our comically short news cycle and atrophied modern attention span. The rioting provoked a shockingly unrestrained display of police brutality that lasted for several days afterwards. The gross violence (tear gas, pepper spray, rubber bullets, beating with batons, shoving, driving cars into, you name it) from police officers towards protestors (even the peaceful ones, if you’re still playing that game!) of seemingly all backgrounds was well documented on video and live-tweeted by individuals and the press (many of whom were also attacked and arrested) which I think drove more and more people to show up for the subsequent protests in their outrage.

I sincerely believe that the shift in power we are seeing right now is the direct result of both the visceral theft and property damage that happened in many of the riots across the country (notably not sparing wealthy neighborhoods) and the documented police violence against a diverse group of protesters. This change in power dynamic is evident not only in the conversations around the role of police in our country but also in the willingness of employees (at all levels) to speak out boldly and demand high-level resignations and changes in behavior. It has only been two weeks since the protests began but folks have already begun to tally its accomplishments so far. I’ve been honestly surprised by the reach of the protests, expanding far past police brutality, to impact tech, journalism, literature/poetry, food media, sports, and even leisure brands -- not by way of so-called “solidarity PR statements” but in resignations, changes in leadership, and super specific transparency about racism in decisions around hiring, pay, and promotions. The physical toppling of racist historical statues has so long overdue.

I don’t want to spend any more energy figuring out a way to like rioting and looting. I stand up for where it’s pushed our country.

Okay, I can already hear your pushback. But Becky, isn’t this using the end to justify the means?

Here’s my third realization. Yes, sometimes the end justifies the means.

This feels like it’s an awful statement to make publicly and in writing. It’s usually used to shut down an argument. And usually yes, I think using the end to justify the means can lead to some pretty terrible behavior and abuse like murder, terrorism, and military occupation, just to name a few. It’s probably the most common trope for Marvel/DC villains and their nefarious schemes. So no, I don’t think the end always justifies the means. And I think I’d generally still debate against it on an intellectual level or in an ethical discussion. But I also think about other stances in which I would also uphold it. For example, I don’t believe that an abused woman should be charged with a crime if she murders her abuser in an attempt to escape. And I will for the rest of my life struggle with the harm (historic and current) that has been done to so many communities across the world in the name of “spreading the Christian gospel” even though I still believe that somewhere in the bible’s pages is a true story of the world and God. Even if it often gets lost in translation and in money/power grabs is it still worth the end? Is it worth increasing access to Christian truths?

And if we really think critically, it doesn’t take long to move beyond these more extreme macro examples. There are much smaller ways in which we exhibit our ability to use the end to justify the means. Like maybe we wouldn’t argue with someone that it’s a defensible ethical framework, but it ends up being the de-facto ethical framework of our privileged lives.

Think for a moment about the way we use our iPhones and other electronics with such freedom from ethical dilemma while knowing about the terrible working conditions in the factories that manufacture them. We don’t say out loud, “Having convenient and well designed hardware to access the internet and contact other people justifies x number of suicides at Foxconn factories each year.” Think about how slowly we’ve moved to break up with Amazon despite countless, well-documented reasons to do so. We don’t say out loud, “Being able to get packages in less than 2 days at prices that are cheaper than anywhere else justifies the awful working conditions for warehouse workers who struggle to get adequate bathroom breaks.” What about the way we simultaneously grieve the destruction of the public school system but continue to choose to send our kids to private schools, charter schools, or out-of-neighborhood schools that have better ratings. Isn’t that using the end (doing what’s best for your kid) to justify the means (contributing to the continued racial and economic segregation in public schools)? We just don’t talk about it like that.

Look, I’m not saying I’m above it, I’m just identifying it plainly. We don’t talk about our privileged life choices out loud like this. It feels too shameful. But on some level, aren’t we essentially doing that calculus in our heads? Even if it’s subconsciously? Like we see the dissonance between our value system and some of our choices but then we say, “Yeah, I know it’s not great, but I guess I don’t feel bad enough to make any major changes to it? Maybe I can try to ignore it? Or make a partial concession to appease my conscience but not actually address the problem?” We certainly don’t label it as justifying the means to an end. I mean that just sounds extra shitty. But we live it, don’t we?

Wait, there’s one more.

Haven’t I known about police murdering Black and Brown people for years now? I know for some folks in our country the murder of George Floyd is the first one to really land in their consciousness. But for me, Oscar Grant’s murder was the first unjust police murder that I really learned about. (Sidenote: Believe it or not, I first learned about Rodney King’s murder and the LA riots because of Oscar Grant’s murder. The riots in Oakland prompted me to start reading and researching the history. I don’t know how I managed to not learn about it at any other time in my life.)

Oscar Grant was murdered back in 2009 (rest in power), the year we first moved to Oakland. What has been my ethical framework for thinking about police for the past ten years? Why haven’t I learned or read about abolition despite working in non-profits to improve the economic and educational outcomes for Black and Brown communities for over ten years? Why is this the first time I have been considering the call to “Defund the Police?” Do you see it?

My fourth realization. The argument against defunding the police also happens to be an example of using the end to justify the means.

This feels really ugly to type out in detail but in the spirit of inviting honesty in dialogue-- here’s what I think has been happening with me. By not educating myself on and joining the movement to defund the police (and the larger goal of abolishing prisons, the military, imperialism), I have essentially been communicating that while I understood that Black and Brown (and trans and disabled) people were being murdered and assaulted by police in disproportionate numbers, I personally tolerated the institution of policing because I felt that the police could provide some semblance of security to me (real or imagined) in the hypothetical event that my own safety was threatened.

I can see now that my apparent willingness to accept the status quo of policing in this country, shown through my lack of sustained outrage, education, and action was incongruent with how sick I felt about the injustice whenever I thought of it or encountered it in my work. Being an Asian female and living in a wealthy neighborhood has meant that I’ve had no personal interactions with the police. I have never had to call for armed intervention/protection. Those are my privileges and I had mastered the skill of compartmentalizing my life. And even as I supported local campaigns against additional funding being used to build new jails, as I advocated for alternatives to detainment for those in the juvenile justice system, and as I tried to build educational options and career pathways for young adults with criminal justice system involvement, I did not personally pursue a complete dismantling of a system that I knew to be corrupt, broken, and deadly.

My opinion was that Black Lives Matter. But my lived priorities, the focus of my career, and my ability to tolerate injustice did not live up to my opinion.

I think there was probably also a lack of imagination and trust on my part. I was far too dismissive of radical ideas that felt peripheral to immediate problem solving and I didn’t seek out diverse Black voices to inform my thinking and focused on listening to voices that affirmed my opinion. I did not invest enough time in forming an ethos for my career or for my personal life. I want to take responsibility for that.

So yeah, I think that’s the part we are less willing to say out loud. We’ll talk about getting rid of qualified immunity or imagine the type of training we think police need instead of talking about abolishing the police department under the guise of being realistic. But I think we do that because ultimately, we are implicitly justifying the means (the police’s racist and murderous behavior), for our mostly imagined, selfish end. Now that I’ve examined it, I find myself more and more able to commit myself to the movement to defund the police. And like most paradigm shifts, I’m finding that it’s informing so many other aspects of my thinking.

The question I want to pose to you is this:

What’s happening in the gap between the ethical framework that you espouse (i.e. your overvalued opinion that you’ll defend in a conversation or social media post) and the ethical framework that you actually live?

That gap is sometimes wider than we’d like to admit or care to examine. (Spoiler alert: The thing happening in the gap is probably racism, mixed with some classism, ableism and a fear of losing the comforts of your privileged life that you’ve managed to build/acquire in this capitalist setup.)

I feel like the work in studying that gap has always been important but it seems especially critical now as we’re pushed to form opinions and talk about our opinions with such urgency and frequency.

Henri Nouwen is known for saying, “You don’t think your way into a new kind of living but you live your way into a new kind of thinking.”

I believe that Black Lives Matter. And I also want to live like Black Lives Matter.

#black lives matter #blacklivesmatter #riots #george floyd #protests #defundpolice #trick mirror #jia tolentino #social media

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chrissy-hayes-writes-blog · 7 years ago

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The Three Girls In Cabin Five

Day One - Red Hair Millie's POV "Have fun!" I waved at my mom while she drove off, turning to the, by now familiar, main building of the camp to tell them I'd arrived. "Millie! Back again?" Matthew yelled, looking up from his computer. "Yup, what cabin do I have this time?" He scrolled through a document for a bit. "Cabin number five." I nodded. "Is Maddie here yet?" "Oh you don't know yet..." "Don't know what?" I asked, frowning. "Maddie won't be here this year, you have a new roommate, Sadie Sink. She's new here so be kind. She's already here, by the way." I tried to hide the disappointed look on my face. Maddie and I both started coming to this camp in the same year. For the past four years we've always shared a cabin. "Okay, thanks!" I walked out and towards the blue cabin marked 5. Before opening the door I inhaled deeply. Change wasn't my forte and I was honestly quite nervous about meeting Sadie. But I knew she'd be more nervous, first years always are. I knocked, hearing a muffled "one second" coming from inside. The door opened and I was face to face with an angel. Her red hair was like winter fire, her eyes shone like the moon on a lake, her beautiful face stunned me in place, her sweet voice when she asked me if I was Millie made me melt. I nodded, probably looking like an idiot, and walked in. "So, which bed do you want?" She asked, snapping me from my daze. "I don't care, you choose." I replied, to be honest I wanted the one on the left but if she wanted that, it'd be no problem. "So how about I take the one on the right and you take the left, is that okay?" She asked, sounding quite unsure. "That's perfect." I replied, still feeling like I was floating because of her. She started unpacking some stuff and I did the same. She absentmindedly started to hum and it only took me a few seconds to recognize the song. "Oh miss believer my pretty sleeper your twisted mind is like snow on the road." I sang and she turned around instantly. "Wait you like Twenty One Pilots?" I nodded and she smiled a smile that could light up a room. I'd gotten to know Sadie a bit better in the hour leading up to lunch. I'd found out that her parents were getting a divorce so they shipped her off to a camp for the summer to work everything out, she was a dog person, she leaned more towards Fall Out Boy while I preferred Coldplay, her favorite Twenty One Pilots album was Vessel, mine was Blurryface, she liked theatre, I'm more interested in on-screen acting, and she's a dog person. Finally the lunch bell was heard all over the grounds and we walked towards the main hall, chatting about Josh Dun on the way. We walked in and I immediately spotted my friends already sitting at our table. Caleb and Gaten had started going to the camp two years before me, Finn one year before me, and Noah one year after me. I dragged Sadie over to them and we sat down. "Where's Mads?" Noah asked, biting into his sandwich. The food was served to the tables which was pretty cool. "Mads isn't here this year, meet Sadie, my new roommate." I replied and she waved at them lamely. They quickly introduced themselves and I zoned out while eating my lunch. Turned out I was staring at Sadie, only stopping when she snapped her fingers in front of my face. "Millie! Are you even paying attention." Finn yelled from the other side of the table. "Yeah, stop staring and answer the question." Gaten backed him up. "What question?" I asked, frowning at them. "Oh well I made a joke about being gay so now Sadie wants to know our sexualities." Noah answered. I swallowed nervously. "Please don't hate me but I'm pan, like Finn." I said, looking at Sadie like I expected her to yell at me. Instead she held up her hand. "High five, I'm gay." She replied and I quickly complied. "Mills, did you have to out me like that?" Finn asked me, pointing at me with his straw. "You would've outed yourself by pointing at a frying pan and saying 'me' eventually anyways." I said, rolling my eyes at him. "She has a point, you do do that." Caleb backed me up. Finn got up, rolling his eyes but smiling at us. "I'm gonna go sit with my friends now." He announced, walking over to a different table. He did this every lunch, spend the first half with us and the second half with Wyatt, Jaeden, Sophia, Chosen, Jeremy, and, most importantly, Jack Dylan Grazer, the boy he'd had a crush on since he met him. "I'm sorry did I say something wrong?" Sadie asked, looking at Finn's back. "Nah, it's an inside joke, you're good. He just likes to sit with the Losers every now and then." Caleb replied. "So what do you guys do all day?" Sadie asked while we were walking towards the woods. "There's this spot in the woods, we usually hang out there, especially on the first day. It's a tradition, kind of like our talent night." I replied, stepping over a hole in the ground. Last year a few younger kids dug it and multiple people fell in, one even broke a leg. "Talent night?" She asked, eyebrows raised. God, she was pretty. "Yeah, it's a bit of a joke. The Losers and the Strangers get together and we just kinda do stuff. Finn usually brings his guitar and for some reason Jack always has a flute. Jaeden and Wyatt always write some overly dramatic and accidentally romantic play. Gaten, Caleb and I sing, rehearsing starts tomorrow, you should join us. If we get Finn to join we can do "One Day More". Noah and Chosen both do comedy, Jeremy always hosts, and Sophia is always a surprise." She nodded. "I'd like to join. I love musical theater." I laughed. "I know, you ranted about how Eponine deserved better, remember?" "She did though!" She replied, sounding slightly offended at my laughing before joining me. "Oi! Lovebirds! Hurry up!" Gaten yelled and we joined them again. "You think the Losers are there yet?" Noah asked me. "Probably, how much you wanna bet Jaeden and Wyatt are touching in some way and Jack is in Finn's lap." "I'm not gonna bet against that." He replied, laughing. I was right. Sophia was sitting on a rock rolling her eyes at Jack and Finn, who for some reason weren't dating, and Wyatt and Jaeden, who both claimed to be straight. Chosen and Jeremy were talking about the talent night. "Hiya, Losers." I greeted them, sitting down next to Sophia. Sadie waved and quickly joined me. I touched her arm reassuringly. "So, Mills, you gonna introduce us?" Sophia asked me. "Oh right," I was so lost in staring at Sadie that I'd forgotten, "Sophia, this is Sadie, Sadie, Sophia." The waved at each other. "Oh great now I have to compete with another redhead." Sophia joked and they both started laughing. I gotta admit that I felt a little jealous. "So, have any of our ships sailed yet?" I asked Sophia, cutting off their conversation. "No, all of them are still denying it." She groaned. "Not denying anything, just not gay!" Jaeden yelled from the other side of the circle we were sat in. We all started laughing, including Wyatt. "Wyatt, why must you betray me like this." Jaeden said in a mock-offended voice. "Shut up, you love me." We all held our breaths. "As a friend!" Jaeden yelled, making us laugh again. We hung out for a few hours before the bell sounded, signaling that it was time for dinner and introduction night. "First day is macaroni day, so I hope you like mac and cheese." I said, walking next to Sadie towards the main building. "Hell yeah, Kraft Mac and Cheese is my life, my love, my religion." I snorted at her comment. "I see you've been talking to Gaten." We both started laughing. "Y'know, he once threw a bowl of it to his sister because she wouldn't stop annoying him." She burst out laughing again. "Wait really?" I nodded and she pulled Gaten next to us by by his shirt. "Yo." "Is it true you once threw a bowl of the holy food to your sister?" Sadie asked him, trying not to laugh. "Millie!" He annoyedly exclaimed before starting to laugh. We joined him and we were still laughing by the time we reached the building. We usually called the main building The Hall (yes the capital letters are important). "So, who's ready for some mac and cheese and gayness." Finn said, pointing at Wyatt and Jaeden who had been walking behind us holding hands. We all raised our hands and Jaeden raised his middle finger. "Leggo." Caleb said and we all walked in and sat at our usual table. During dinner the tables were pushed together and all the Losers and Strangers fit at one. "So what you're trying to tell me is that you bought an actual okay-quality trumpet for fifty bucks?" Finn asked me, his eyes nearly falling out of his head. "The cheapest trumpet I've ever seen was 350 bucks and that was a shitty one." He continued. Finn's parents ran a music shop in Toronto. "But really, fifty bucks?" I nodded and he turned back to his food with a shocked expression. We sat next to each other in silence for a good five minutes. "Fifty bucks?" "Yes, Finnley." I laughed. "Damn." Immediately after everyone had finished eating their dessert, which was chocolate pudding, we were ushered outside and all two-hundred and thirty six of us sat around the unlit campfire. "What's happening?" Sadie asked to my left. "It's this lame-ass tradition. You'll see." I replied just as I saw Matthew taking the torch from a running David and continuing to sprint to the pile of wood. "Oh no, don't tell me it's like the Olympics." Sadie groaned next to me. Matthew was already standing in front of the pile with his arms raised triumphantly before throwing the torch into the wood. It quickly caught fire and we all cheered. He took a bow and joined David at the edge so Winona could welcome us. "Welcome everybody, I'd like to first say the names of the first years and the ones that won't be coming back this year before officially starting the evening." She started like that every year. "First the newbies. Joining us this year are Henry McBersley, Alexis Linetti, and Lisa and Frank Duke." We didn't get a lot of new people each year but the people that did join usually stayed for a long time due to the camp being amazing. "The ones who have unfortunately left us are Maddie Ziegler, Sidera Hoying, and Polly and Cas Howell." I liked Sidera, she was really creative and we hung out every now and then. Polly and Cas, the twins, were a bit weird but always happy and smiley. "Now let's get to the fun stuff." Winona announced and Matthew and David started throwing bags of marshmallows around. "Is every night gonna be this fun?" Sadie asked me that night while laying on her bed on her back. Her long red hair was in a messy bun and her eyes stared at the ceiling like it was the most interesting thing in the world. I'd never been that jealous of a ceiling before. I laid down on my own bed and nodded before realizing she couldn't see that. "Yeah, the camp is awesome. We have rehearsals for the talent night tomorrow, so we gotta be up early. We should expect the boys here by 6 am." I mumbled, turning off the last light in the cabin. "It's already 2 am!" Sadie near yelled. "I know, go to sleep." I still wasn't asleep by 3 am but that was okay. If I had some coffee with breakfast it should all work out. "Millie." I suddenly heard Sadie whisper. "Yeah?" I whispered back. "Are you awake?" "No, I have a hidden talent where I can have entire conversations in my sleep." "Fine, I'll just go back to sleep then." Her words were serious but her tone was joking. "Noooo, what was it?" I asked her. "Wanna go prank the guys?" She asked. My face lit up but she couldn't see. "Uhm yeah!" I said, turning on the lights. "What do you plan on doing, I'm on board whatever it is." I said and I saw a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I say some classic shaving cream and a feather, maybe some makeup and a sharpie." She said, pulling out her makeup bag and her pencil case. "I can get us shaving cream and feathers." I said, putting on a bra, flipflops, and a hoodie, over my sweatpants. "Let's go." She replied, also getting "dressed". "Are you sure he won't be mad?" Sadie asked me for the nth time. I shook my head. "He won't be, if anything, he'll give us a camera to film it." I replied, knocking on the door. "Millie? It's 3 am." Shawn Levy said as soon as he opened. "I know but I need to borrow some feathers from one of the old pillows and your shaving cream." "I'm not gonna ask, one second, I'll throw in a camera too." I smiled at Sadie and she smirked back. "Thank's Shawn." I said when he handed me the bag before running off towards the green cabin number 9 with a neon pink door. "Let me guess, they asked for this cabin?" Sadie asked, eyeing the four-person cabin. "Oh definitely, I totally didn't bribe Matthew to give them this." I replied and she started laughing. I quickly slapped my hand over her mouth. "Sorry" she whispered when I let her go. "Could you hold this?" I asked Sadie, handing her the bag before pulling out the key David had borrowed me. "Where did you get that?" Sadie asked. "I know a guy." I replied and she kissed my cheek. "Hallelujah." She whispered, I was too shocked to say something. I grabbed the sharpie and started attacking Finn's face with it, carefully drawing some things like the phrase "I love JDG." And a couple of dicks. Also a pan pride flag which I filled in with eyeshadow, Sadie and I worked together like we'd been doing it all our lives. We were finally done drawing on all of their faces and decided to give Noah and Caleb a hand full of shaving cream. "Ready? Three." I mouthed, getting ready while the camera filmed from an angle that they were both in shot. "Two." Sadie and I both got ready. "One." We both started tickling them with the feathers and they woke up almost at the same time, smacking their hands into their faces. Sadie and I ran out of there with the camera while it was still dark. Even outside we could hear a loud "what the fuck." from Caleb and Noah remembering he spoke French a little and just yelling out "merde." We silently laughed on the way back to cabin number 5.

#the three girls in cabin five #sillie #stranger things cast #it cast #chrissy hayes writes

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accidentalrhink · 7 years ago

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*DJ Khaled voice* anotha one!

Thank you @mei-ren-yu for tagging me in this long-ass tag. Like, damn. I hope you find my answers as interesting as I found yours. (probably not though, my life is boring af although I was tired and feeling very sassy so things got weird) :)

Answer the following: THE LAST 1. Drink: Water. Basically all I drink lol. 2. Phone call: To my sister asking her to come pick me up 3. Text message: My sister telling me she was outside of the coffee shop and me telling her I’d be right out. 4. Song I listened to: In the Middle by dodie. I’ve had her new EP on repeat all day. It’s so good I’m so proud of my wife 5. Time you cried: Genuinely surprised that I can’t remember, considering I’m basically constantly crying 6. Dated someone twice: Nope. 7. Kissed someone and regretted it: That would require having kissed someone in the first place. 8. Ever been cheated on: Nope. 9. Lost someone special: Well my uncle died when I was 2, so I don’t really remember him, but I still miss him. We were good buds. 10: Been depressed: Yep, since I was about 15 I think? I’m doing pretty good right now tho. 11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: Nope, never been drunk.

THREE FAVORITE COLORS 1. Purple 2. Pink 3. Black

IN THE LAST YEAR, HAVE YOU 1. Made new friends? I made a few friends at my job, but I haven’t really talked to them since I left. But I’m making lots of new friends here! You guys are solid. 2. Fallen out of love? That would require having been in love in the first place. 3. Laughed until you cried? All the goddamn time. My siblings are freaking hilarious. 4. Found out somebody was talking about you? No, I don’t think so? At least not in a bad way. 5. Met someone who changed you? Well that’s deep. I don’t think so, not in the last year. 6. Found out who your friends are? Kinda, yeah. After graduation last year I kinda realized who I really care about and who really cares about me. (Hint: it’s not many) 7. Kiss someone on your facebook list? That would require having kissed someone in the first place.

GENERAL 1. How many facebook friends have you met in real life? All of them, I don’t friend people I don’t know. Well, except for my future roommate I guess, but I’m meeting her in 2 weeks. 2. Do you have any pets? Yes, I have a black lab/greyhound named Mario who is my favorite boy. I want 281 more dogs. 3. Do I want to change my name? Nah, I’m good. 4. What did you do for your last birthday? I think I just went to dinner with my family, and my dad gave me money to get Ed Sheeran concert tickets. 5. What time did you wake up? Today, about 9:30, plus 20 minutes of turning off alarms and lying around. Trying to get it back to about 6 or 6:30 for when school starts. 6. What were you doing at 12:00 last night? Probably reading fanfic and thinking about how I needed to get to sleep. 7. Name something I can’t wait for: SCHOOL! One freaking week! 8. When was the last time you saw your mother: A couple hours ago when we had dinner. 9. What are you listening to right now? dodie’s new EP, “You”. God it’s good. Did I mention she’s my wife and I love her? 10. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom? Probably? Idfk. Did you write this tag, Tom? 11. Something that is getting on your nerves: My brain stressing out about literally nothing. 12. Most visited website: YouTube, definitely

13. Hair color? Dark brown.

14. Hair length? Depends, if I straighten it it’s about halfway down my back, but shrinkage is a thing so it’s normally shoulder length-ish

15. Do you have a crush on someone? I mean I just met this guy at my friend’s party the other day and got his number, but I don’t really know him yet. Here’s hoping or whatever.

16. Piercings: I got my earlobes pierced when I was like 12 but they’ve closed up. Not really big into jewelry anymore. 17. What do you like about yourself? Pfft. Can I get back to you on that? 18. Blood type: A+ 19. Nicknames: None 20. Relationship status: Single as fuuuuck 21. Zodiac: Pisces 22. Pronouns: She/her 23. Favorite TV show: New Girl, Black Mirror, Star Trek: TNG, Love, Planet Earth, BoJack Horseman, Bob’s Burgers. Guilty pleasures are Degrassi and House Hunters 24. Tattoos: None yet, but I have a few planned. Gotta wait til I move out tho so my dad won’t kill me lmao 25. Right or Left Handed: Right 26. Surgery: Thankfully, none 27. Sport: Well I don’t play any sports (I used to cross-country ski on a team but not anymore), but I love watching soccer, cycling, and pretty much any winter sports. The Olympics are my jam. 28. Vacation: Last vacation I went on was Hawai’i with my family; dream vacation would be a tour of Scandinavia 29: Favorite shoes: Honestly I basically only wear flip-flops during the summer. Come at me, fashion police.

MORE GENERAL 1. Eating: Nothing right now. I had pizza for dinner. 2. Drinking: Water 3. I’m about to: Go the fuck to sleep, hopefully 4. I’m waiting for: SCHOOL. I miss school so much and I move in in a week and I can’t WAIT this has been a great gap year but I wanna LEARN 5. Want: To do well in school. I’m actually very nervous that I won’t and it’s scaring me. 6. Getting married: No thanks. Maybe I’ll have a partner, sure, but I’m not into signing a contract or spending all my money on a wedding

WHICH IS BETTER

I feel really bad about this section bc everyone is beautiful and lovely and if I like someone I probably like everything about them but these are my gut responses. Short or tall: I like em tol Hugs or kisses: I guess hugs. I love a good hug. Lips or eyes: Mmmm...eyes. Older or younger: Either, as long as it’s not too extreme either way Nice arms or nice stomach: For men, arms. (Or even better, hands.) For girls, stomachs. Goddamn I love girl tummies. WOW could I be more bi?? Hookups or relationships: who the fuck knows Troublemaker or hesitant: If hesitant means responsible, then that one.

HAVE YOU EVER Kissed a stranger: What do u think Lost glasses/contacts: Don’t wear ‘em. Turned someone down: Lol no one’s interested in me Sex on the first date: Nope but I would if I felt like it Broken someone’s heart: You really think I’m hot stuff, don’t you? Been arrested: Nope Cried when someone died: Yeah Fallen for a friend: YOU BETCHA

DO YOU BELIEVE IN Miracles: No Love at first sight: No Yourself: I’m trying, believe me I’m trying Santa: No God: No Angels: No Kiss on the first date: Sure why the fuck not

OTHERS

Eye Color: Brown Favorite Movie: Coraline, Hoje Eu Quiero Voltar Sozinho (The Way He Looks), Clueless, Moonrise Kingdom, The Force Awakens, Jaws...I’m not very picky.

I shall tag @unofficialrhettandlink if you haven’t done it and if you want to. :)

#damn this is a long tag #I like talking about myself tho lmao #I'll probably look at this tomorrow morning and be like wtf #I was in a mood ok #tag #unrelated #accidentalposts

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zeldaismyhomegirl · 7 years ago

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Cat’s Masterlist of Recs Part 2

Another week, another long, long list of recs! I’ve discovered so many gems in the past couple of days and I can’t wait to share them with you so you can go and love them too ^.^

caidy:

Gold Plate (translated into English by amanuensis)- Then he adds, “We broke up yesterday.” Mila chokes on her coffee, and in a moment of childish cruelty, he smiles.“What?” she says, wincing. “Wait, yesterday?” Yuri shrugs. He thinks he should probably be sad, but he isn’t. Maybe because it was mostly his decision.“What happened?” “Nothing special. We had eleven great years.” He’d be lying to deny it, he thinks. “But we reached the end of our relationship,” he adds. “That’s all. We agreed it was time to end it.”

(I stumbled across this accidentally and have not stopped thinking about it since. Beautiful. So beautiful. I want this fic engraved onto my tombstone.)

@blownwish-blog :

Bizarre Love Triangle- Yuri Plisetsky met them both on his knees in the boys' room. One would stay, the other could not. America was one fucked up country.(The 80s high school au you didn't ask for.)

(I can’t believe I hadn’t read this before this week, but this has got to be the best damn Otapliroy I’ve ever read- so so good! The setting was incredible, the feelings, the details. Just incredible.)

magicalyoyo:

A Heart Beats At Night- A lone figure ran along the sidewalk. Otabek would have mistaken him for a motivated jogger, if not for the sinewy, fluid movements and familiar figure. He jerked his bike over, skidding to a halt in front of the runner.Otabek’s heart was pounding a sickening, dizzying rhythm, but he schooled his face into stoicism as he pulled his helmet off to get a better look.“Yuri Plisetsky died two years ago,” he growled. “What the hell are you?”

(I’ve been reading this for months now and after a certain development in today’s chapter just had to kinda shout about my love for it. It’s paranormal au. I’m not gonna lie, that put me off reading it for MONTHS but PLEASE PLEASE don’t let this disaude you as althought it’s definitely a plot line, it’s not the cominating factor of the story, not by a long shot. It’s got angst, the most beautifully written plot and descriptions, love, affection. @ded-i-am-just-ded I’m actually just gonna rec this to you straight up right here right now so you can cry with me because I’m sure you’ll love it like I do.)

@phaytesworld :

Yuri!!! On Circus- Yuri!!! on Circus! In this AU you will have Victor as an albino, Yuuri a contortionist, Yuri the cat boy, Otabek a giant mute, Georgi the Fortuneteller. The cast will all be acts with in the circus. We will follow as Leo has run away with the circus, different acts, troubles and just in general the circus life set in early 1900's.

Hung- Prompt - Imagine what the fandom would be like if Yuri was the one with 19 cm... I might have made him larger......

Sand and Salt- Summer romances are always the best. Guang Hong, local surfer kid at the beach falls for the lifeguard in town for the summer.

(She’s done it again. My eyes have been opened to the beauty of LeoJi, Hung Yuri and fucking fortune teller Georgi because YES I live for that. Phayte is a miracle worker with words and imagination- I can barely keep up with everything she writes, I honestly have no idea how she does it!)

@the-stoned-ranger

Only Losers Go To School- When Otabek Altin's employer discovers his diploma is fake, he loses his job as a pharmacist and enrolls in Detroit Community College. Forced to take an advanced-level French literature class taught by the deranged Monsieur Lee, Otabek starts a study group in order to impress his crush and makes the friends he never knew he wanted in the process.Yuri Plisetsky is the pint-sized art student with the brilliant wit and bad attitude who immediately captures Otabek's attention. Though Yuri rejects Otabek's advances at their first meeting, together they survive a French professor obsessed with ennui, a psychology professor fixated on sex, and study group shenanigans. As the semester progresses, Yuri and Otabek slowly draw closer. Are they really just friends, or could they be something more?

Eat Your Heart Out, Adonis- The year is 2021. The Beijing Winter Olympics are just around the corner, and Yuri Plisetsky is forced to take a break from skating in order to recover from an ankle injury. His friend Otabek comes to Russia to keep him company during his time off the ice. UST follows.

(I love me some good goddamn unresolved sexual tension and beautifully written smut! I would read anything they threw at me, I’m not going to lie- everything is just so well crafted and feels so realistic. I especially love in Only Losers the whole psychology paper and getting those little glimpses into the other characters and their sexual personalities- so so clever!!!!)

@onotherflights

Almaty’s Fire- They were like the lost boys, and of course Otabek was Peter. Yuri was fine with being Wendy if it meant he got to keep the thimble at the end of everything, when the sirens would be drowned out by the sounds of drums and the blue and red lights would flash something gorgeous against his skin.

Or; The lead singer is supposed to have a ton of groupies. Otabek only has the one.

Start of Everything- He didn't realize someone could fall in love with their best friend, but watching Yuri light a sparkler and chase the other Yuuri around his own garden made something click. The way he threw his head back in laughter, his hair and his face equally lit in the golden twilight. It was just a little ache in his heart, something he hadn't felt before. It confused him, made him furrow his brows together.

Or; Otabek has tried really hard to be good enough for everyone in his life, but Yuri is easy to please.

(I’m so happy I stumbled back upon these works- I remember reading the first chapters of both way back before I even had an ao3 account (which isn’t even that long ago lol) and being absolutely blown away with how well they are written. Especially in Start of Everything- the way Beka’s feelings and anxieties are presented- gosh it felt so so real)

@doitforthefics :

The Law of Life- By nineteen Yuri Plisetsky thinks he's got his life figured out. He's one of Russia's top male skaters and will defend his title tooth and claw.Then Otabek, Yuri's best friend or boyfriend - he's not quite sure what the hell they are - hits him with an actual sledge hammer; he's leaving the ice to become a professional DJ.Yuri comes to realise then that he, in fact, has nothing figured out at all. With his support system screwed up, he finds himself sucked into a world where sincerity is superficial, and vindictiveness cuts twice as deep.

(I know there can be a lot of schtick with A/B/O but this one is amazing. There is undeniable sexual tension between Beka and Yuri in this that makes me want to scream, and the fact that there’s still so many chapters to come makes me so happy ^.*)

JBankai89:

Lost in the Sound of Separation- Following the Grand Prix Final in Barcelona, Yuri Plisetsky disappears. Only Otabek seems to be concerned about him, while his friends and family seem to care little about where he may have gone.Two years later, Otabek has moved from his home rink to one in a small college town in Québec, Canada, and a late-night stop at a nearby convenience store proves to be the small rocks that start an avalanche.Everything was about to change.

(Another A/B/O, albeit this one is much much darker, so please be aware of the tags. I love how this is from Beka’s point of view showing his struggles with Yuri’s absence, and then reappearance in his life.)

vivevoce:

what did you expect- At some point, Yuri makes the Best Decision/Worst Mistake of his young life in befriending the flaming trainwreck that is Otabek Altin. He can't quite bring himself to regret it, so he decides on enjoying the ride and Not Screwing Things Up.

(I love this so so much! I’m not sure what you’d classify this au under, neighbours? Friends to lovers? But again it focuses on Beka’s struggles with being an ignored only child, and how he deals with it. It’s definitely bittersweet and although it hasn’t been updated in a while, I highly recommend the read!)

@cashryley :

Prima’s Pleasures- Having almost everything he could possibly want, a very wealthy Otabek Altin decides to do something he's never done before: hire an escort.

(Okay this is so so good! The last update has left me on the edge of my seat because there’s so much developing between Beka and Yuri, there’s been shifts that I can’t wait to read more about! And Yuri as a protective cat mom with the tiger lillies made me smile like fucking crazy!)

Faylette:

This Man Is Mine- Yuri Plisetsky is over people thinking he's girly. At least, he thinks he's over it, until he sees people react to his relationship with Otabek Altin. But he'll keep telling himself he's over it. He can keep this up. Who cares what they think?Yuri. The answer is Yuri cares.

(this is one of the first fics I ever came across on ao3, back when the first chapter came out in Feb. I was hooked instantly. I think by now people know I’m a sucker for insecurites and this shows Yuri’s and how eventually he comes to terms with it so well. Plus, the smut is hot (; )

@ded-i-am-just-ded

Dead Air- You looked me in the eye and lied.

(Mind the tags again! But it looks like the angst off has begun (; If you want a guaranteed cry go and check this out!)

@theinsanefox :

The Drabble Chronicles- A series of drabbles focused mainly on Otayuri, but could also eventually include other pairings from YOI

(There’s some light hearted fluff, there’s some angst that’ll make you cry, but my love’s drabbles are so good and will make you smile ^.*)

@aphhun :

we just need a human touch- What happens on a tour stop in Almaty will stay in Almaty. Well — probably.

“Give me your phone,” was the next thing out of his mouth, and Yuri found himself near squinting at the other.

“What?”

“Your phone. I’m going to give you my number,” persisted the DJ, and if Yuri had been more devoted to getting drunk earlier on in the evening, he knew that he would have handed it over without a second thought or a question. Sober Yuri, however, was more rational and undoubtedly skeptical.

“You literally don’t even know my name."

(Oh my god, I love love love this DJ/Dancer AU so much. I just went back to reread it and I fell in love all over again!)

@aftgonice:

Not a random one- He found that those fluffy and sweet fan fictions were starting not to be enough anymore. His feelings for Otabek weren’t of the innocent type, and while he was already used to fantasize about them, he’d gotten so used to actually reading that one day he just slipped. He found a pretty vanilla one, and promised himself that it would be enough. It was a one time thing, it had to be. It wasn’t.

(this is so creative, such a great format and an original idea! It’s fluffly as well as smutty- just perfect!)

Right, now I need to go back to planning chapter 11 of Just a Spark and actually writing chapter 3 of Summer On Your Skin. I said I was taking the weekend off, but there’s only so much binge watching of OITNB I can do before actually working on my own fics xD Have a lovely week everyone!

#cat recommends #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #Yuri on ice #yoi #go spread some love!

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emmybirdwrites-blog · 8 years ago

Text

I can't pinpoint the moment I fell in love with figure skating. It was always the sport I loved to watch, transfixed, every time the Winter Olympics rolled around. It usually went to the back of my mind, though, when it wasn't Winter.

Then my best friend when I was eight, Lily, held a party at the local ice skating rink. I was absolutely terrified but also completely intrigued by the little sharp blades carving through the ice. I eagerly put on my rental skates, and as I got on the ice it was like I was learning to walk for the first time. I didn't start doing figure eights or anything, but I had fallen in love. I stayed there even after Lily and the other girls left to get ice cream, I stayed there until the owner made me call my Mom because they were closing.

My Mom picked me up, in her dark blue clunker, and I got in excitedly and sat on the torn passenger seat.

"Mom, Mom, Mom!" I cried, and she smiled tiredly at me. She had a toddler then. Isadora, my younger sister, was only two and a menace. She sat in a carseat in the backseat then, trying her hardest to unbuckle herself. When she didn't manage it she began to wail, a sound which made my Mom visibly wince.

"What is it, Anna?" My Mom asked, raising her voice so I could hear her over Isadora's shrieking. "Izzy, honey, we're almost home." She said a little frantically, a plea in her voice.

"I wanna become a world famous ice skater! I wanna become the best one ever!" I told her, bouncing in my seat. My Mom just smiled a little bit at this, telling me I could be whatever I wanted to be, that she believed in me. This was during the time period in my life where I switched dream careers about weekly, from veterinarian to doctor to policewoman to firefighter to cook to garbage woman to computer repair person. The list stretched a mile long, and my Mom had long ago stopped putting any stock in what I'd decided my future career would be, since it changed so often.

After that, it never changed. After a couple months of me staying stuck on it, my Mom knew I was hooked. I got books from the library on figure skaters, I started watching YouTube videos. On my ninth birthday, two days before Valentine's Day, there was a heavy coating of snow on the ground. I glanced outside, daydreaming about ice skating on an actual frozen pond. My Mom called me downstairs, and I ate my cinnamon toast hurriedly, a birthday tradition my Mom had started a couple years before that, before Dad died. Since Dad cooked all the meals, she would give him the day off on birthdays and make cinnamon toast for everyone, joking that it was the only meal she knew how to make. For a while after Dad died, that seemed to prove pretty true. We either had frozen dinners or toast.

After my cinnamon toast, it was customary present time. Isadora sat in her high chair, gleefully eating a piece of cake with her hands. She had frosting in her hair and my Mom sighed at her lovingly, but the focus was on my gift. It was a large wrapped box, and I tore off the wrapping excitedly. My Mom was one of those 'carefully take off the wrapping piece by piece of tape' kind of people, but I've always been one of the people who try to tear into it as soon as possible.

The wrapping paper revealed a gift box, which I eagerly tore open as well. Inside was a beautiful pair of ice skates, white with sparkling silver blades. I grinned at them, jumping up to hug my Mom. I knew even then that we had money troubles, that my Mom had to have been saving up for a long time to be able to afford my beautiful ice skates.

"That's not all there is to your gift." My Mom said, smiling at me after I hugged her. I looked at her in astonishment, unable to comprehend that there could be something additional, another present to accompany the beautiful skates. She turned around and rooted through her piles of papers on the kitchen counter before pulling out a white envelope.

"Open it." She said, smiling and handing it over to me.

I ripped it open excitedly, and inside was a gift certificate. For six months of ice skating lessons. At the place I'd first fallen in love with ice skating.

Looking back, I'm pretty sure I cried when I saw that. I was so excited and so happy and so thankful.

"Cake!" Isadora shrieked, breaking the spell. My Mom hurried to get her another piece of cake, and I hurried to put on my skates. They fit perfectly on my feet, and I couldn't wait to wear them somewhere.

The ice skating lessons proved to be a recurring gift. I stayed in love with ice skating, and as my feet grew bigger ice skates also became a recurring gift. Each time I retired a pair I lovingly placed them on a shelf in my room, trading them for a newer model with shinier blades.

My last pair I ever owned, the pair that should be my current one, isn't sitting up there despite me retiring it. I threw away my last pair after I gave up skating. I couldn't handle the memory of what those skates had done, of what I'd done. They'd been the first pair of skates I'd bought with my own money, and I'd thrown them away while they were still shiny and new.

Isadora was at school, in sixth grade. I wasn't at school. Well, technically I kinda was all the time. In the throes of my figure skating obsession, I'd decided I wanted to be homeschooled so I could take classes more often. My Mom wasn't happy about it at first, but my Coach, Pam, talked her into it after a while. I didn't miss school after leaving in fifth grade, I actually was pretty glad to leave. I'd never formed many friendships, there wasn't anything I was really leaving behind or felt like I was losing when I switched to homeschooling.

My Mom was at work. She'd landed a 'really good' nursing job. She'd gone to nursing school in between her and Dad marrying and her having me. I didn't regard the nursing job as 'really good' like she did, because on one hand it did pay well, but on the other I knew her long hours were hurting both her and Isadora.

I walked to Isadora's room. The door was hanging open, and it looked like a tornado had hit. Isadora's room was always messy, with clothes and garbage and toys and anything and everything scattered all over the floor. The only clean place was the surface of her art desk, which had a piece of paper on it. My heart rising, I ran over to the dress, keeping an eye on where I stepped so I didn't accidentally break anything.

Nothing. The paper was blank. All of Isadora's art supplies were untouched. I glanced above the desk, looking for all the artwork she'd hung up. It wasn't there. My throat caught a little and I glanced at her trash can. It was a mess of slashed canvases and torn up paper. The one on top was still mostly intact, from her second grade job fair paper. At the top in big letters it had asked 'what do you want to be when you grow up'. Isadora had drawn a beautiful picture of her, dark hair up in an elegant style, painting a picture. Underneath, in her always beautiful handwriting, she wrote 'I'm going to be an artist'. At the bottom, in red pen, her teacher had graded it. A+. Beautiful art. I love your confidence! You're going to be a great artist, Isadora. The paper and the message on it made me feel a bit like someone was compressing my lungs. I thought back to the breathing exercises the therapist I had briefly seen after The Incident had told me to do whenever I felt like this, like my lungs were compressed. I closed my eyes and breathed in and out, counting the seconds in between each, trying to make it longer. As soon as I could breathe again enough to do so, I ran out of her room. I couldn't stay in her room anymore, not with all that evidence of her broken dreams. The dreams that had been broken because of The Incident, because of me.

Read the rest of chapter 1, as well as all the other chapters I write, for free on Wattpad by clicking this link: https://www.wattpad.com/366035976-arabesque-chapter-1.

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