#i put it in recycling which takes more effort

[awhoreintheory]

Circus Boy

Directly inspired by @erinwantstowrite 's art!!! post

Request from awesome amazing cool Anon

Over the years, circuses have lost their spark.

Dick would know— he’d literally grown up in one. Back then, the circus was a symphony of effort and artistry. Weeks, sometimes months, were spent perfecting routines. Performances were designed to dazzle, to inspire awe, no matter the country or culture of the audience. The comedy sketches weren’t just filler— they were genuinely funny, capable of drawing laughter even from the most reluctant parent dragged along by an excited child. Every act had a rhythm, a purpose, and above all, passion. The performers took pride in their craft, and the audience responded in kind, feeding off the energy, cheering and clapping until their hands were raw and their throats sore. 

Now? Now they were dull. Predictable routines recycled ad nauseam. Costumes that looked like they were bought in bulk from a clearance rack. Tents and stages slapped together with the barest effort to resemble grandeur. The magic, the joy—the soul of it all—had been replaced with a singular, glaring goal: profit. No one cared if the audience laughed, gasped, or even paid attention, so long as they paid their entrance fees.

But recently, whispers of something different had started making waves in Gotham: a circus gaining a reputation for being... well, different.

Dick’s curiosity was piqued. He hadn’t planned to go, at first. But the memories of his youth, of what the circus used to mean, stirred within him. Before he knew it, he’d wrangled (read: blackmailed) together as much of the family as he could to go see it. Which, wasn’t a whole lot considering quite a few were out of state currently, but it was enough to make him smile.

“Why must I come along? I do not see the point,” Damian groused, arms folded tightly across his chest as the group approached the circus grounds. Despite his protests, he made no move to make a stealthy exit.

“You’re coming because it’ll be good for you,” Dick said, ruffling Damian’s hair just to annoy him. Damian promptly swatted his hand away, glaring daggers at his adoptive brother.

“You don’t even know if it’ll be good,” Tim chimed in, hands shoved into his jacket pockets. “What if this thing is as boring as all the other ones you’ve complained about?”

“Then we’ll all get funnel cake and call it a night,” Stephanie said brightly, making it clear where her true excitement lay. “I’m in it for the food, anyway.”

Dick pouted. “You didn’t have to say the quiet part out loud!” 

“Don’t underestimate funnel cake,” Duke added with a smirk. “It might be the only thing saving this trip if the show’s a flop.”

Dick rolled his eyes, but his grin didn’t waver. “You’re all so cynical. Just... trust me, okay? I have a feeling about this one.”

Sure, a lot of the decorations seemed cheap thus far, but Dick can’t blame them. They’re clearly low budget, with only two shows a week, versus the seven to ten a week Dick was used to. The difference was the genuine passion and excitement in the eyes of the performers. And they were just doing pre-show stunts on the street to rouse excitement! 

Tim hummed thoughtfully. “This place has been gaining rapid popularity,” he said, the subtle edge in his tone making it clear he was already analyzing every detail. Dick saw his fingers twitch as if to take a picture. 

Dick glanced over at him but didn’t comment. He recognized that tone— Tim was in detective mode, quietly piecing together threads no one else could see yet. He did, however, take the opportunity at his siblings' distraction to subtly herd them in the direction of the tents, eager to get a good front-row seat. Damian noticed, but he didn’t do much more than roll his eyes.

Steph, however, rolled her eyes dramatically. At Tim, not Dick. “Can you just enjoy one thing without looking for a criminal conspiracy, Tim?”

Tim matched her with a roll of his own eyes, the two slipping into a bickering match that’d put an old married couple to shame if they weren’t so aggressively gay. Meanwhile, Dick let his attention wander to the stage, studying the equipment with the practiced eye of someone who’d lived this life.

Suspended high above was the trapeze rig, its bars wrapped in worn leather, the steel cables taut and secured to thick iron frames. The safety net below, while a little faded, looked sturdy enough to do its job. Not brand-new, but serviceable.

To one side, a highwire stretched across a dizzying height, its slim cable shimmering faintly under the tent lights. The rigging showed some signs of age— slightly dulled bolts and scuffed counterweights—but nothing that made Dick worry. It would hold, even if the daredevil walking it would need nerves of steel.

A teeterboard sat center stage on the ground, its spring mechanism ready to launch performers into flips and vaults. Nearby, a stack of brightly painted crates and barrels hinted at comedic skits. Clowns would probably tumble over them with exaggerated flair, while a sturdy seesaw-like prop suggested slapstick gags involving plenty of unintentional (and intentional) falls.

The whole setup had a charming scrappiness to it. The equipment could use a little TLC, sure, but Dick had no doubt it would hold up under pressure. He could tell the performers had put their trust in it, and that meant something.

For a moment, Dick felt a flicker of nostalgia. The way the crew moved, the crisp efficiency with which they handled the gear— it reminded him of home, of the way his parents had always treated the stage with reverence, as though it were sacred ground.

“Do you see how high that wire is?” Duke muttered, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and apprehension as he followed Dick’s gaze.

“I see it,” Dick replied softly, his heart tightening. He couldn’t help but wonder who had the guts to walk that cable, let alone pull off any stunts on it. He’d definitely have to stick around and chat them up, maybe have a little friendly competition. 

“Awe, man,” Duke sighed, visibly disappointed. “Guess we weren’t excited enough.”

Turns out “early” wasn’t early enough because the seating area was packed. The whole first three rows were aggressively claimed, forcing the group to settle for seats in the middle of the fourth row.

Steph and Duke promptly excused themselves to grab popcorn—or, more accurately, for Steph to scout for funnel cake. Dick had to respect the consistency.

Damian glanced at Dick, then at Tim with a withering look. “Drake, cease your ramblings. They sour my mood.”

Tim blinked, clearly taken aback. “Wait, just me? Steph was talking way more!”

Steph, who had been halfway out of earshot, whirled around with mock offense. “Excuse me? I wasn’t the one turning this into an episode of ‘True Crime: Circus Edition.’” 

“Yeah, because you’re too busy planning how to steal funnel cake from children,” Tim shot back, crossing his arms. Damian’s eyebrow twitched. Dick wondered why peace was but a mere illusion. 

“Oh, please,” Steph quipped. “You’d be the kid I steal it from, Drake.”

Before Tim could come up with a retort, and Damian became a convicted felon, the lights dimmed, cutting their bickering short. A hush fell over the crowd as the familiar low hum of a drumroll began to build.

The ringmaster strode into the center of the stage, clad in a dazzling coat of crimson and gold that shimmered under the spotlight. If you looked any closer than that, you’d see how tacky and cheap it was. His booming voice carried effortlessly across the tent.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Boys and girls! Welcome to a night of wonder, daring, and delight!” the ringmaster announced, his voice ringing through the tent as the steady drumroll built the tension. “Prepare yourselves for the extraordinary, the astonishing, the absolutely unbelievable! The show begins... now!”

The drumroll reached its peak, and with a dramatic flourish, the spotlight swept upward to reveal the first performer perched high above the stage. A man in a sparkling gold costume waved grandly to the crowd before swinging onto the trapeze. The audience clapped politely as he performed a few rudimentary tricks— basic flips and graceful swings that showcased control but lacked flair.

Two more performers joined him, each clad in similar glittering costumes. They moved with confidence, transitioning through formations and passing between trapezes, but the moves were predictable and lacked the edge Dick was hoping to see. Certainly, nothing that would make this rinky-dink circus as popular as it got so quickly. 

Tim leaned toward Dick, his tone flat. “You dragged us here for this?”

“Underwhelming,” Damian muttered, his expression neutral but his tone sharp.

Dick didn’t respond immediately, though he couldn’t disagree. The tricks were technically fine— safe, practiced, polished— but there was no spark, no passion. No magic. He resigned to going home disappointed and also to the inevitable flaming via siblings. 

But then, just as one of the performers finished an awkward landing on the platform, the ringmaster’s voice boomed again.

“And now, prepare yourselves for the prodigy of the skies, the one and only Amazing Arach-Kid!”

The spotlight shifted upward again, revealing a much smaller figure poised on a separate platform, high above the others. It was a boy— young and wiry, dressed in sleek crimson and black, his face obscured by a half-mask (not dissimilar to their domino masks, actually) that glimmered faintly in the light. For a moment, the crowd was silent, uncertain what to expect.

Without warning, the boy leaped.

The gasp from the audience was audible as the kid— Arach-Kid?— launched himself into a dramatic triple flip, his body twisting gracefully through the air before he caught the trapeze with flawless precision. The crowd erupted into applause, the energy in the tent shifting instantly.

He didn’t stop there. Swinging with a force that sent his trapeze soaring higher than any of the others had dared, he released at the peak of his arc and spun into a double somersault. Instead of catching the next trapeze, he landed neatly in the arms of one of the adult performers, who looked genuinely startled by the boy’s precision. He grinned, waving excitedly at the audience as they roared with applause. 

From there, the routine transformed. Arach-Kid became the centerpiece of the act, seamlessly incorporating daring flips, twists, and transitions between trapezes. He was passed between the adults with perfect timing, their previous mediocrity eclipsed by his sheer skill and energy.

“Whoa,” Duke murmured, leaning forward in his seat. “He’s... good.”

“Who is that kid?” Tim asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“Better than the rest of them combined,” Damian said bluntly, though his tone carried the faintest hint of approval.

The boy ended his routine with a jaw-dropping quadruple somersault, catching the final trapeze one-handed and hanging upside down with effortless control. Gasps and cheers erupted from the audience, their applause thunderous as he let himself swing for a moment, letting the crowd bask in his daring. Then, with a fluid motion, he swung back, releasing the trapeze bar for one final flourish.

Dick leaned forward, his breath catching as the kid’s body twisted into the unmistakable maneuver— the signature move of the Flying Graysons.

The crowd roared as he executed the technique perfectly, his form flawless, his timing impeccable. He landed with a clean dismount, arms raised triumphantly, and offered the crowd a playful bow before darting off to the wings. Even with the stage empty, shouts and applause echoed for a long time after the boy left. 

For a moment, Dick couldn’t move. His stomach churned as memories of his parents on that same trapeze flooded his mind. No one else knew that move. No one could. His parents had created it, and Dick had learned it from them. It was their legacy— his legacy.

So how, in the name of all that made sense, did this random kid just pull it off perfectly?

The lights shifted again, smoothly transitioning to the next act: a somewhat clumsy but undeniably entertaining tightrope routine. One performer started with a wobbling walk, arms flailing for comedic effect. Another joined, balancing precariously with a broomstick for support. The final performer added a unicycle to the mix, pedaling shakily across the thin wire as the audience laughed and clapped in delight.

It was… objectively funny.

But Dick barely noticed. His good mood had evaporated, replaced by a heavy knot of unease in his chest. At this point, they must have a hive mind with how they immediately filed out of the tent without a single word exchanged. 

“That was—” Tim started, breaking the tense silence.

“Dick,” Steph interrupted, her voice low, “did he just—?”

“That was your move,” Tim finished firmly, his eyes locked on Dick’s.

“It’s not possible,” Duke added, glancing at the now-empty trapeze rig. “Right? It’s your family’s thing. There’s no way some random kid from Gotham knows it.”

“I am more concerned with how he knows it,” Damian said, his voice cutting. His eyes darted to Dick. “This is your domain, Richard. You must have answers.”

Dick didn’t respond right away. He couldn’t. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, his breathing shallow. In disbelief, he muttered, “I don’t.”

Steph frowned. “Okay, well... what do we do? Do we just ignore the fact that some kid pulled off your impossible secret family move?”

“No,” Dick said sharply, his voice colder than any of them expected. “We don’t ignore it. We find out who he is, how he learned it, and what the hell is going on.”

Tim’s brow furrowed. “Do you think someone’s trying to get your attention? Like, deliberately?”

Dick shook his head, though his face betrayed his uncertainty. “I don’t know. Maybe. I mean, it’s... it’s possible, but...” He exhaled through his nose, frustrated. “I need answers. This isn’t something you just pick up on YouTube.”

The group left the small but packed circus, their earlier excitement replaced by a shared tension. The cool night air did little to clear their heads as they walked in a tight huddle, glancing over their shoulders as if the boy would materialize out of the crowd.

“Something’s not right,” Tim said, breaking the silence.

“Obviously,” Damian muttered.

“I mean it,” Tim snapped. “Moves like that— you don’t just do them. It takes years to learn without a teacher.” He glanced at Dick. “You’re sure no one outside your family knew it? Like, absolutely sure?”

“Positive,” Dick said firmly. “The only people who knew it are gone. Except me.” His voice dropped as he added, “Or at least, they’re supposed to be.”

The group exchanged uneasy looks, about both the situation and Dick’s reaction to it. It takes quite a bit to rattle him, so to see him, well, rattled was weird. Beyond weird. It was downright wrong. 

“Either way,” Duke said cautiously, “we’re going to figure this out. Right?”

“Oh, we will,” Dick said, his voice grim. “We don’t leave things like this unanswered.”

As they disappeared into the Gotham night, paranoia settled over them like a second skin. Whatever was going on, it wasn’t going to stay a mystery for long. 

[voxceleste]

hiiiii you’re one of my favorite fic writers ever and i admire you so much. i wondered if you had any advice for other writers of how to improve? especially for someone who has been writing for years but feels like they’ve hit a point of stagnation/knows they’re “good” at writing but feels like they’re just not hitting their full potential. also, if you had any advice for the differences in working on shorter pieces vs longfics, any guidance or methods that worked for you would be so appreciated!! your work has been very genuinely inspirational to me and i hope you have a great day <3

thank you for your kind words! <3

mileage varies more with regards to writing advice than maybe anything else, so it's possible none of this will work for you.

a common framework in education theory/neurobiology/psychology/etc is that there's a goldilocks zone between comfort and frustration wherein most learning happens. games studies has a similar idea, that a game has to be mentally engaging enough to keep the player invested without making it so punishingly hard that they quit.

writing is pretty much free. unlike most other creative mediums, the scope of a project has no relationship to the value of the materials or tools needed to produce it. you're only limited by your own energy, time, and effort--which can be formidable restrictions, to be fair, but it's not like being a filmmaker, where good-quality equipment and collaborators simply take more resources to afford. writers should take advantage of this. we're really lucky in this way.

the best thing you can do to improve your writing is to attempt projects that feel a little too big for you, or that you're not confident you can pull off. it doesn't have to be "big" in terms of length; a short piece could qualify if the style, tone, structure, subject matter, etc is outside of your comfort zone, but in my experience this has often looked like longer and more complex projects. then again, i love writing long stuff, so take it with a grain of salt--some people just don't, but you mention wanting to try your hand at longfic, so i assume it's relevant. the point is that in order to grow your skills, you have to stretch them.

past fic projects that stick out in my mind for having pushed me to grow as a writer:

story with 4 POV characters, alternating POVs at a regular cadence, where goings-on in each section would affect the other chapters

story with a real-world historical setting that required research wrt material culture as well as timeline/"who was where when"

story that blended a codified and formulaic genre template (het romance novel) with seemingly incongruous story elements (protag being a passively suicidal closeted trans woman and ex-evil mastermind)

the common denominator is having a very specific story i wanted to tell about these specific characters, and digging my teeth into how to do that in a way that felt specific and not just a recycling of common fanficisms… though in all cases, there were at least one or two other fics i looked at for inspiration, if only in a distant way. (those fics, in turn, are often what i'd consider examples of "fanfic that is also just good, ambitious writing," whether or not they would stand alone as original fiction--but that's a different post that's already been made by others.) (they are also full of tropes and are very fanficcy in their own ways!) i had to put a lot of thought into how to approach them in a way that was most true to what they wanted to be in my heart, and usually had one or two specific touchpoints of non-fanfic media that i used to get my bearings, which is a good habit to get into whether or not you're interested in branching out into original fiction writing.

with regards to the transition into longfic writing… writing processes are idiosyncratic and whatever advice i give you has a good chance of being totally useless. it'll probably involve a lot of trial and error, unfortunately. some tidbits:

the worst thing a story can be is boring and this is doubly true for long stuff. i would always rather an author turn the dial a little too far than not far enough to be impactful

can't overstate the utility of a good beta reader as well as a good cheerleader or two to whom you can dump your 2am story thoughts and troubleshoot your plot issues

start the story at the latest possible point in time; many a longfic idea dies on the vine because the author thinks they have to do way more setup than is actually required. this doesn't mean you have to open in medias res with an action sequence, but if you're opening on something more quiet or "expositiony," you should know *why* you're starting there, and should be able to draw up that scene vividly and characterfully

putting a little bit of effort into fleshing out your setting and side characters can help you a ton if you write yourself into a corner. if you're stuck, it's hard to come up with a story element from nothing when your story revolves around two floating heads in featureless rooms

the period between being 1/3-2/3 done is the actual fucking worst. it's miserable every time. the story is no longer a beautiful shining thing in your head, it's an ugly blob of misshapen clay, and you haven't seen it all start to come together yet. it's not you or your project, it just sucks and there's no way out but through

trust your idea! trust your own ability! trust the magic that can be worked in the edit!

if you bite off more than you can chew with a project and aren't able to finish it, or you're disappointed by how it turns out, that's really disappointing and difficult, which i don't want to downplay. but it's not wasted time, even if no one else sees the results of your work. that effort and experience will make you a better writer.

other advice that may or may not work for you:

read a lot of fiction; read fiction that is not fanfiction, especially; read outside of your usual genres/favourite authors; read authors who are known for unusual or singular styles. challenge yourself to write something imitating one of their styles, even for a page or two. what are the characteristics of a paragraph by octavia butler? how does she approach sentences? how is that different from a similar length of text by victor hugo?

read about writing craft, not from bloggers but via well-regarded books. even if you don't agree with all the advice (which you probably won't) or it's not all directly relevant to you, these texts will address fundamentals that apply to almost all kinds of prose and prompt you to develop unglamorous good habits. steering the craft by ursula k. le guin spends each chapter on an element of writing, such as sound & rhythm or punctuation, and includes exercises to put her principles into practice. on writing well by william zinsser is a classic--its focus is nonfiction, but much of the advice is widely applicable. both of these texts are full of example excerpts from great english prose stylists. books like this aren't likely to introduce groundbreaking new ideas so much as train you to become more consciously aware of elements of style you may be less attentive to than you could be.

your only hard limitation as a writer is your own creativity; drive your stories like cars in GTA. you're here for a wild time, not a long time, and if it blows up you can just get a new one.

[doomsayersunited]

A Decade Of Doom!

I started this blog ten years ago to compile the growing evidence that our planet would not longer be able to sustain human life by 2050, thanks to our continued, capitalist-fueled efforts to destroy all the systems we rely upon to sustain life. The first thing I put up here was this essay, on February 20, 2014. Now, a decade later, I thought it might be "fun" to look at what's changed: 1) Earth Overshoot Day

In 2014, "Earth Overshoot Day" (the day that humanity collectively consumes more resources from nature than it can regenerate over a year) was August 19th. Now, in 2024, Earth Overshoot Day is August 1st, 2.5 weeks earlier. At this rate and assuming things don't accelerate (even though they are likely to), Earth Overshoot Day will be around June 17th by 2050. 2) Biocapacity Biocapacity is the amount of resources contained on the planet required available to sustain life, measured by area. In 2014, I calculated that the planet had a biocapacity of 1.7 hectares per person. By dividing the total available biocapacity today in 2024 with the current global population as I did then, it now appears that there are just 1.5 hectares of planetary resources left per person to extract all the materials needed to sustain life, as well as all the area available to dispose of waste. That's a 12% loss over ten years. At that rate, we can expect to lose another 30% of biocapacity by 2050, going down to just 1.05 hectares per person by then, and that's assuming that the rate of biocapacity loss does not accelerate further and that the global population suddenly stops increasing after a run of non-stop increases spanning five centuries. Oh, also a reminder that the average human requires 2.7 hectares of land to sustain its current consumption habits/levels. So. 3) Individual Conservation To illustrate the futility of individual conservation at this point in the apocalypse, let me give you an example: If you were: a fully-vegan localvore living in a one-bedroom apartment with nine other people and using 100% renewably-generated electricity; who did not ever use motorized transportation of any kind or buy new clothing, furnishings, electronics, books, magazines, or newspapers and recycled all the waste you generated that was recyclable, you'd only require 1.4 hectares of biocapacity to sustain yourself. That is close to the kind of lifestyle extremism it would take to live sustainably. Deviate from that level of stoicism even slightly (say by living in a two-bedroom apartment with three other people instead of a one-bedroom apartment with nine other people and taking a single, four-hour roundtrip flight, once a year) and you're now consuming 1.6 hectares of biocapacity, which means you're using more resources than the world has available for you if everything was divided evenly among everybody. Of course, biocapacity, like all resources, are not divvied up evenly among everybody, which is why there are currently 114 different armed conflicts happening worldwide - the highest number of armed conflicts since 1946. 2023 was the most violent year in the last three decades. 4) Other Signs Of The End Times In my 2014 essay, I referenced the work of geologist Dr. Evan Fraser, who studies civilization collapse. In his book Empires of Food, Dr. Fraser noted common signs of a civilization about to collapse, which began to appear about two decades before it all goes completely to hell. Those signs were: -a rapidly-increasing and rapidly-urbanizing population We've added 700 million people to the planet since I began this blog in 2014. And where is everyone moving to?

-farmers increasingly specializing in just a small number of crops " "As farm ecosystems have been simplified, so too are the organisms that populate the farm.  A farm that specializes in a limited number of crops in short rotations does not, for example, look for plant varieties that do well in more complex rotations with intercropping.  A beef feedlot operation wants breeds that gain weight quickly on grain diets and does not want cattle breeds that digest well pasture grasses and thrive in all year outdoor environments on the range." The result? Recent estimates put the loss of global food diversity over the last 100 years at 75%. Over the 300,000 species of edible plants that exist, humans only consume about 200 of them in notable quantities, with 90% of crop plants not being grown commercially. -endemic soil erosion Climate change and the need to raise more crops have combined to increase the rate of agricultural soil erosion globally. Back in 2014, when I started blogging about the end of everything, the UN had already determined that there was only enough fertile soil left to plant 60 more annual crops. So, by 2074, we won't be able to grow food, full stop. This of course comes at a time when the global population continues to increase, and with it the need to grow more food. If projections are accurate, we will need to increase food production by 50% over the next three decades to feed everyone. -a dramatic increase in the cost of food and raw materials When I started this blog in 2014, I noted that 2011-2013 had seen the highest food prices on record. So what's happened since then?

It's important to point out here that the current food price spike started in 2020, so if Dr. Fraser's calculations are correct, the food system will collapse sometime around 2034, taking civilization with it. I closed my debut essay on this blog with a quote from the (now deceased) climate scientist Dr. James Lovelock, who advised a Guardian journalist to "enjoy life while you can. Because if you're lucky it's going to be 20 years before it hits the fan." That interview was published in 2008. We have four years left to enjoy.

[hyallulonelyhime]

Hyahime presents: That time when a jsk became an ironing board cover..

Today i'm sharing a classic from cgl many of you have definitely heard about: The ironing board fiasco. The story of a girl, her dad's fiance and many feels.

Everything started when OP shared this image and said the following:

Due to some unusual circumstances, I'm currently living in a partially-renovated house with my dad and his fiancé.

His fiancé is a very sweet lady who is very thrifty. She makes all her own clothes and and will usually find a practical use for something, rather than throw it out (i.e recycling old bottles and jars to pot plants).

I had a Baby The Stars Shine Bright Strawberry and Cherry Ruffle jumperskirt that I didn't wear anymore, so I was planning to sell it. From memory, it cost about $400.

I put it out in the main room next to a pile of clothes I planned to donate to Good Sammies, so I'd remember to take photos of it for the sale. I then went away for a week to visit my grandparents

When I came back, I noticed the pile of clothes had disappeared. Cool, my dad and/or his fiancé had donated them for me. But wait… Where was the jumperskirt?

It was then that I saw the sight portrayed in the uploaded. My dress had been cut up to to make an ironing board cover and a tablecloth. I don't know where the rest of the material is.

It appeared that my dad's fiancé had assumed the jumperskirt was part of the donation pile, and thought there was no harm in 'recycling' it for her own uses. In her efforts to pretty up the concrete-y wasteland of a house, she had unknowingly destroyed an expensive brand dress.

Literally the only thing I could do in that moment was stare blankly. I can't even be mad at her, she had no idea.

So now I have a BTSSB ironing board and table cloth.

the story immediately caught the attention of users as they scrolled. Some found it terrible, others couldn't help but laugh..

Though some were quick to say it must've been fake.

So.. did OP fake this for attention? Let's investigate.

It is very unlikely the fabric was gathered from a replica, judging by the print details and the fact that this isn't a very sought-after or popular piece you'd see everywhere.

But how did one dress result in so much fabric? Although it looks like a lot, one anon pointed this out:

But she knew she'd get the attention, right? ...yes, but I don't think anyone would come up with this specific odd way to recycle a lolita piece and make the community react.

OP responded to the questions and thoughts with the following:

At this point, some anons were pretty much just fighting over if it's okay for OP to be so calm or not. Which.. is a little bit weird. Others were more emotional about this than the victim themselves.

But what you may not know is.. there's more. There's more to the Kawaiironing fiasco.

Op comes back.

I queried the whereabouts of the remaining material and she showed me. She said my dad told her I was "throwing them out" (I have no idea where he drew that conclusion as i specifically said I was donating a bunch of clothes, so at the very least he should have assumed I was, you know, donating them), so she thought it was fine to cut up. My fault anyway, didn't separate the "sell" pile from the "donate" pile. HOWEVER… There were a few other brand dresses I was planning to sell. I assumed they had been donated with the rest of my clothes, as they were nowhere to be found. I was a little sad about that (they were valuable Angelic Pretty, BBSTB and Metamorphose), but oh well. Then I looked in her material bag and found they had also been cut up… When dad said I was "throwing THEM" out, he did not state a plural by accident… Pics to follow.

If anyone wants individual versions of those pics lemme know.

The loli gods frown upon me today for my unbecoming carelessness in handling burando.

Op decided to keep the truth a secret: ignorance is bliss, and her stepmother did not deserve to feel the guilt of ruining so much burando.. or to know that so many lolitas were in shambles knowing about her crafts.

..Although, anons said this wouldn't stop her from doing it again. Maybe she should know so she doesn't cut up even more dresses.

One thing is certain. that's a really cute ironing board cover. Maybe the fabric could become even more random burando stuff: headbows, little makeup bags, cup coasters, mats.. oven mitts?

Lolita home goods for all! we demand a cute life!(✧∀✧)/

[ktlurksforsomereason]

A few new thoughts + theories about obxanon and Rudy's departure

I keep seeing the same angry, recycled theories on obxtwitter without a lot of critical thought, which like fine, people are mad, I get it. But I've been really trying to take my emotions out of the situation and just consider how this could realistically have happened, and I have a few theories that I want to put out there.

I think #obxanon is Lilah Pate, OR someone very very close to Lilah or the Pates. Why do I think this? For one, #obxanon mentions Lilah far too much. Like I'm sorry, she's just not that important lol. She's a nepotism baby riding on daddy's coattails, and she was not a major player in any of the bts drama until #obxanon mentioned her specifically in their first (now deleted) post. #Obxanon also seems to know a lot about the personal relationships between cast members, far more than a crew member or a producer might know (specifically in the way they describe Rudy and Madison's history/feelings towards each other). This tells me #obxanon is someone who personally spent time with the cast, especially in the s1 era. Finally, in a previous post, I've talked about how #obxanon is very bias against Rudy and for the Pates. I believe SOME of the facts they present (a lot of it is bullshit and opinions), but I think whoever is behind that account has personal anger towards Rudy and Elaine, especially Elaine. #Obxanon mentioned personal conflict between Elaine, the Pates, and LILAH. Why is that even important? Because Lilah thinks she's important, and Lilah is #obxanon.

2. In saying this, I think #obxanon's first post in August leaking JJ's death was an intentional move by the Pates (and maybe Netflix) to sus out how audiences would feel about JJ dying. I just can't believe that Netflix/HR wouldn't be cracking down on every single person who could know this information if they weren't already allowing it to be leaked. Like the first post? Huge leak of insider info. But ok, JJ death theory was gently leaked during Morocco filming so maybe not a drastic break of HR policy. But the second post after s4 part 2 dropped? And continuing to post answers to fan questions up until very recently? There's just no way. Someone would be getting sued. A crew member would be out of the job. The Pates would be putting a stop to it. Unless it was intentional. Unless it was Lilah. Who wanted to

a. gently prepare audiences for JJ's death,

b. get a feel for how angry people would be, so they could edit/prepare to launch their bullshit PR "he was always gonna die" statement,

c. know whether they should renew the show for 1 or 2 more seasons, depending on how much viewership would be lost,

d. maybe even try to convince/guilt-trip Rudy into changing his mind based off of fan response? And if that last ditch effort didn't work,

e. proactively shift the blame onto Rudy to redirect fan outrage, meaning the writers/showrunners could take slightly less heat.

The show getting renewed for a 5th and final season BEFORE part 2 dropped and all hell broke loose? This tells me that they had a solid idea of how bad it might be and opted out of the original 6 season plan. They probably didn't know it would be THIS bad lol, but clearly the writers have their heads up their own asses and don't know how shit they actually are, so they underestimated big time.

And before people start saying this is a conspiracy and couldn't be PR, I really wouldn't underestimate how involved marketing teams can be, especially for a high budget #1 show on Netflix. The Pates mention all the time how they read and monitor fan feedback. Like, if the obx twitter account can interact with fans the way they do? They can definitely be sneaky about leaking info on tumblr through an anonymous yet extremely, SUSPICIOUSLY informed source.

And finally,

3. I think the reasons for Rudy leaving (and I absolutely believe that he left) are far more complicated than simply "Elaine was jealous." I think the way he handled it was messy and shitty and immature, but I've tried to theorize WHY and I've come up with a few intersecting reasons. I want to preface this with I DON'T ACTUALLY KNOW. But I like trying to understand people's decisions, it makes them more human to me and allows me to move forward with empathy rather than anger. So here's what I think:

a. He and Madison were previously FWB. I can't pretend to know the timeline or why it ended. But it happened sometime in 2019/2020 and Elaine was unaware of this (or at least how strong the feelings involved were) until later on in her and Rudy's relationship. Elaine not knowing about their fwb arrangement is alluded to in multiple Deuxmoi blinds over the years. Just feels too consistent to not have some truth to it. I can see how finding this out could blindside Elaine, make Rudy feel ashamed and uncomfortable, and contribute to growing jealousy and tension throughout years that finally hit a breaking point. I'm not saying jealousy is acceptable, especially because portraying a believable Jiara romance was Rudy and Madison's JOB. Obviously the healthiest decision is either break up or make peace with it. But I think this could at least explain why Jiara upset Elaine so much. She felt lied to. Also if Rudy actually cheated on Teo, that would increase Elaine's insecurity even more (once a cheater always a cheater). AND put pressure on Rudy to prove that he won't cheat on Elaine, making him all compliant and weird n shit towards Madison. The whole thing is just messy.

b. Rudy did not want to do Jiara in the first place. He didn't even sign up for it when he joined the show. Their "chemistry" in s1 was a literal representation of Rudy and Madison's chemistry in real life, likely due to their fwb arrangement. It wasn't JJ and Kiara liking each other. It wasn't planned. (I hate how Kiara asking John B "Did you tell JJ" is literally always used as proof against this, but I always saw that as Kiara not wanting to admit she actually did like John B and wanted to keep shit on the down low until they figured it out. That's totally how it's written. But the obx writers suck and don't elaborate on that ever again, so it gets misinterpreted). Regardless, fans saw their obvious chemistry and SCREAMED for JJ and Kiara to get together. They also screamed for Rudy and Madison to get together, which was probably fun until it was awkward. But Rudy literally NEVER actually liked it as a plotline. In interviews for S1 and S2, he talks about how JJ is not ready for a relationship, maaaaybe endgame could be them hinting at getting together but he just didn't think it made sense with the storyline. And Cleo was getting written in as JJ's actual love interest. And Kiara had already kissed John B AND Pope. It was not the writer's original plan, and Rudy has said that he thinks the show should not be swayed by fan desires. Except the writers are spineless and lack creativity, so instead they chose to listen to the fans and pivot their entire storyline to make Jiara happen. Which Rudy was contractually obligated to then do. Unwillingly. For 4 seasons.

c. Outside of Jiara, Rudy hated the writing on obx. And who can blame him? Everyone hated the writing on obx. The plotline has been getting more and more unrealistic and ridiculous since S1. If there was no bts drama and JJ lived and the show was renewed for 3 more seasons, season 4 would STILL be hot smelly garbage. Rudy has been getting increasingly more and more vocal in interviews about how he hates bad writing, he respects good writing, he wants to participate in art that moves people, means something, makes a difference. He basically calls out the obx writers in that Larry Moss interview for being trash. It is absolutely implied. The fan service of Jiara and the deterioration of the plot and the absolute destruction of his character JJ who he loved dearly and put so much effort into? God, that would piss me off too. Total opposition to his values. We all heard Rudy talk about JJ's storyline in S1 interviews as a nod to trauma survivors and how respectfully he tried to portray that. Only to have the writers not give 2 shits about any of that. I can totally see why he stopped giving a shit too. By s3 interviews, he literally repeats "my job is to do what the writers tell me" over and over. Dude was done long before asking to leave s4.

4. The final tipping point? The hate that Elaine gets. I'm not defending the girl. I think the whole conflict/tension/jealousy thing is wild. Hard to know what's actually true, but I think it's fair to say she doesn't make the healthiest choices (her launching her bikini line while Rudy is getting dragged by the media and fans?....wow.) However, the absolute visceral HATE Elaine has been getting for literal years, unwavering, unfiltered, unending? No one deserves that. Especially not for the petty shit she supposedly did (the girl posted some ignorant shit as a 17 year old on facebook in 2013. Like come on, she's not Kelly Osbourne saying Latinos only clean toilets on literal live TV). You can't make me believe that hate like that for 4 years straight on every possible social media platform wouldn't impact your mental health. You can't tell me it wouldn't make Rudy hate the fans, and hate the show, and hate social media. He would feel guilty, like it was his fault. He would want to protect her. They would both be so powerless to stop it from happening. Like, it literally killed her photography career before it could begin because her social media platforms were just bombarded with hate. And not just hate, but embarrassing, cancel culture accusations. If that was my partner getting treated like that because of my job? I think I'd leave too.

All of this combined = creates a total shitshow that Rudy probably couldn't wait to get away from. He's talented. He's passionate about acting. He likely wants to do other projects while he's still young and fit and eager. OBX contracts stopped the actors from doing any other work that conflicted with obx scheduling (filming and press). That reeeeally limits their other opportunities.

So I really can't blame the guy for leaving. I just think the way he did it was shitty. If he had just told them he wanted to leave before S4 was written and already filming, I think things could have been a lot more amicable. But I guess money complicates everything. Dude probably made a good mil a year with obx, that's hard to leave.

Soooo yea. Just my theories and thoughts. I could be totally off, a lot of it is hypothetical. But I haven't seen a lot of these theories fleshed out as people talk about everything, so thought I would add my 2 cents.

[cinnamon-won]

Hi I saw that you’re comfortable writing omorashi, could you maybe do a sub!Yeonjun fic with omo involved please 🥺

Hold it | TXT Yeonjun (requested)

Minors DNI

Words: 1.5k

Description: Yeonjun didnt have strong bladder but still didn’t pay attention to your advice about drinking, so you decided that he needed to be taught a lesson.

Pairing: sub!yeonjun x dom!reader

Warnings: omorashi, humiliation, slight exhibitionism, teasing, a little fluff at the end +lmk if there’s more

Masterlist

⊱•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱

“Yeonjun, be careful of how much you drink!” You exclaimed, taking the bottle out of his hand. You knew about how easily your boyfriend’s bladder could fill up, but he always seemed ignorant to that fact about himself.

“Relax, there’s always public bathrooms around,” he said, taking the bottle of water back out of your grasp.

You would say you were surprised by his disobedience, but this is how he always acted in front of his friends. He liked to pretend he was the one in charge in the relationship whenever he was in front of them, that stupid male ego. But you knew the reality of just how obedient he could be behind closed doors. You huffed, praying he'd have an accident just so that you could rub it in his face that you were right and he was wrong.

When you all arrived at the beach, you got out excitedly and helped the boys carry all of their stuff to the perfect spot. As you set everything up, you noticed a change of expression on Yeonjun’s face which made you smile to yourself. The second you had your things set up, you pulled him onto the blanket and perched yourself on his lap, shuffling to get comfortable. His eyes widened as he held back a gasp.

Yeonjun held your hips still and looked at you with a confused expression. In response, you shrugged with a smile and reached for the pack of strawberries. The rest of the boys sat down and handed around drinks to help with the dehydration caused by the sun. you thanked them cheerily, opening the bottle and taking a sip before passing it to Yeonjun. He chugged the rest of the bottle and aimed it at the recycling bag that Beomgyu was holding.

The day went on with laughs and games, the heat of the sun making everyone drink continuously. A couple hours later, Taehyun suggested they all go for a bathroom break, but you say that you’re fine and remain comfortable in your position in Yeonjun’s arms. He seemed like he wanted to get up, but you were adamant in not moving.

“You guys go ahead,” Yeonjun said to his friends.

“Don’t have too much fun without us,” Beomgyu laughed as the four of them walked away.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Yeonjun looked at you. “What are you trying to do?” He asked.

“Nothing,” you shrugged, you mindlessly flipped your magazine.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Yeonjun said, attempting to move you so that he could stand. You tried to put your whole weight on him so that he got the message that you wouldn’t be letting him go.

“Y/n~” he whined, trying to push you off again.

“I’m sure you can hold it a little longer. We’ll go together in a few hours.” You reached for the snacks in the middle of your picnic blanket and began eating without a care in the world. Occasionally you would feed Yeonjun, or bring up a conversation.

Meanwhile Yeonjun was doing everything he could not to burst. He tried counting in his head as a distraction but lost count when you began shuffling in his lap to get comfortable again. The pressure of you on his lap was stressful enough and he just couldn’t take his mind off the full bladder that he was fighting against. Yeonjun’s legs trembled from all the effort he put in not releasing. His mind was foggy and he lost track of whatever you were saying. After a while, he began to wonder where his friends were and they were taking so long. Yeonjun could do with a better distraction right now. However, he was also thankful that they weren’t here to see him being such a mess.

“Y/n I don’t think I can hold it for much longer,” Yeonjun said, a pleading tone in his voice.

Yeonjun attempted to regulate his breathing but knowing that you were very aware of his dishevelled state was somehow turning him on. He prayed you wouldn’t realise how much his body was reacting to the situation, but he wouldn’t be able to hide it for long.

Suddenly he had an idea.

“Why don’t we go and play in the water?” Yeonjun suggested. “It’s really hot out here.”

Yeonjun thought he was a genius for this idea. He just had to go in the ocean and no-one would know; he would get his relief and save himself the embarrassment of wetting himself. What he didn’t know is that you saw right through his simple plan. Yet you agreed, formulating a plan of your own.

“Okay, let’s go,” You said with a bright smile. You stood up and outstretched your hand to help him up.

Yeonjun’s body trembled as he tried to stand up. The second he diverted his attention from his bladder to his balance, he felt a little pee release. He quickly looked down to see if it was visible, sighing in relief when he noticed that it wasn’t.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, pretending to be oblivious.

“Nothing,” Yeonjun said with a forced smile, putting his arm around your shoulders.

You caved into the hug, wrapping your arms around his waist. Slowly, you slipped a hand under the tank top and pressed lightly on his lower abdomen. This caught Yeonjun off guard. He let out a small moan as more urine was released.

“Y/n please stop teasing!” His eyes became teary as he looked at you in desperation.

“What do you mean?” You asked innocently. Your hand travelled down until it hovered over the wet patch on his pants. “I know you’re enjoying it.”

You pressed a finger down on the outline of his dick and he felt the wet material against him.

“So disgusting jjunie, you’re wetting yourself like a child,” you muttered into his ear, making him whimper.

“N-no I’m not…”

Again you pressed your palm down onto the wet patch and he gasped.

“Y/n please if you keep teasing me I won’t be able to control-”

“You never had control jjunie, I knew you were going to wet yourself. Didn’t I tell you to watch how much you drank?” You scolded, watching the different expressions on Yeonjun’s face.

“I’m sorry…”

Whilst one hand was on his crotch, the other went back to his abdomen. You pressed on them simultaneously, making Yeonjun fold.

“Please please I’m sorry! I should have listened to you,” he sobbed. Another splash of pee and a larger wet patch. When he had slightly regained composure again, he looked at you with blushed cheeks, covering his crotch with his hands.

“Come,” you said, pulling one of his hands away so that you could hold it. “Didn’t you want to play in the water?”

Yeonjun was reluctant to walk across the beach with wet pants. It was quite obviously not an accidental drink spillage, but you were relentless on your mission to make him feel shame for disobeying you. And a part of Yeonjun enjoyed it; losing control, being humiliated and teased.

When they reached the water, the splashing waves sent Yeonjun’s mind into overdrive. His legs quivered as he tried to keep whatever dignity he had left.

“Aren’t walks along the shoreline just so romantic?” You asked, giving Yeonjun’s hand a little squeeze. He almost laughed because this situation was far from romantic.

You pulled him along, letting your feet become covered in water. Yeonjun’s heart almost stopped, over-exerting himself to keep holding. You let go of his hand, crouching down to collect some water in your hands. You stood up again and splashed the water on Yeonjun with a giggle.

The mix of cold water on his body, wet sand against his feet and your teasing laughs were too much for Yeonjun to handle.

“You better not go here, Yeonjun,” You said threateningly.

“I can’t!” He whined.

“Hold it Yeonjun,” you said.

A tear slipped out of Yeonjun’s eye and he started stuttering frantically. “I- I c-can’t I can’t I can’t-”

And before you could prod him any further, Yeonjun’s beige pants became a darker shade of brown as the wetness grew in size. He stood still, too afraid to look at the damage. You looked him up and down, wanting to keep the image in your mind forever. The sight of Yeonjun standing still, the pee staining the front of his pants, his hair slightly covering his eyes, blushed cheeks and shame written all over his face.

“I’m sorry,” he cried, lowering his head.

You quickly jumped up to hug him, not caring about the wetness. You stroked his hair and comforted him, wiping away the tears. “It’s okay,” you said. “Accidents happen.”

You then pulled him deeper into the ocean until you were both covered in water from the waist down. You peppered him with little kisses until he finally broke into a smile.

“Where do you get these crazy ideas from?” He laughed, hugging you tightly.

“You enjoyed it too, don’t lie.”

“Maybe just a little.”

⊱•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱

Note:

Heyyy!! I can’t believe I didn’t see this earlier. I think there’s something wrong with my notifs :’) Anyways hope this was ok, I wrote it quite fast because I haven’t written in a long time. Thanks for getting me out of my writers block with this ask! 🩵

[flyingwargle]

sunaosa week day 7: past / future

suna stands in the center of his living room, hands on his hips, surrounded by boxes. after a long and successful volleyball career, it’s time for him to hang up his court shoes, fold the compression sleeves, and frame the jerseys. his retirement press conference went without a hitch, and so did his farewell party with ejp. all that’s left is to pack up his apartment, and move everything to his new home with his husband in hyogo.

it's the start of a new chapter.

osamu is in the kitchen, carefully wrapping the glassware in newspaper and old copies of volleyball monthly. he straightens to stretch his back, suna watching out of the corner of his eye. “everything good over there?” he asks.

“yeah. where are ya gonna donate these?”

“probably the nearby restaurants. “i’ll bring the cups to ejp.” they were always short on coffee mugs in the lounge, and most of his are in good condition. “washio said he’ll take the pots and pans, komori will take the air fryer, and nagito wants the blender.” osamu insisted they’ll buy everything new for their kitchen, which is why most of it is being pawned off.

“i put the pots’n’pans in a box fer him. he can just take it whenever.”

suna nods, then surveys the living room. they’re taking his tv, but donating the coffee table, couch, porch chairs, and shelves. the books and pictures are already packed, accolades safely wrapped and sealed. the bathroom is packed too, towels tossed with his clothes, toiletries spent. all that’s left is his bedroom.

it’s surprisingly cluttered, despite how little he brought with him. leading up to his retirement, he donated most of his training gear, along with clothes that no longer fit. he prepares a box and starts going through his desk drawers, filled with old receipts, invoices, contracts, and documents. osamu joins him, recycling bin in hand. “thought ya might need this.”

“thanks.” suna inspects each piece of paper before tossing it, just in case. osamu continues to pack the clothes in another box, an effort that suna abandoned halfway for a change of pace. they work quietly, until–

“hey, rin. look at this.”

suna turns around. osamu has a wrinkled envelope in hand, his name addressed on the front. it’s sealed shut, so he fetches a pair of scissors from the kitchen to slice it open. “did ya write me a love letter at one point?”

“actually…”

inside are three folded pieces of paper. osamu stares at the first page – specifically, the date. “ya wrote this…five years ago?”

he nods, joining him on the floor. “yeah.”

“were ya gonna send it ta me, or…”

“i was, but…well, you know what happened.” although many of their friends call them high school sweethearts, they broke up when they were 21, were exes for three years, and then got back together on new year’s on the cusp of the fourth. the reasons for their separation sound amateurish now – they couldn’t handle the distance, they were chasing parallel dreams, they couldn’t, didn’t, wouldn’t make time for each other.

while they were separated, osamu opened three more onigiri miya locations; suna played in the olympics and overseas. osamu won awards for his food and service; suna became sponsored by top brands and corporations. osamu starred in documentaries and television shows; suna was featured in interviews and press conferences.

when they met again during the new year’s party organized by inarizaki alumni, both agreed that it made sense to try again, now that they were older, smarter, better. it led to an engagement. it led to marriage. it led to this.

a life together, walking down a singular path.

“i was in chicago, i think. i felt homesick after eating at a japanese restaurant because their onigiri…reminded me of you.” suna’s arm snakes around osamu’s waist, resting his head on his shoulder to read his own writing, shaky kanji after years of writing mostly english. “i missed you, but i couldn’t tell you, so i…wrote you a letter.”

he remembers that night vividly. his teammates took him there for his birthday, where all the dishes were recipes passed down through the owner’s family. as he ate, all he could think about was home, but what came to mind wasn’t aichi, hyogo, nor shizuoka. instead, it was osamu.

osamu, who would video call him for hours while working in the kitchen. osamu, who would reply to his memes or shitposts with equally cursed content. osamu, who would sleep shirtless so he could absorb suna’s body heat, even in the middle of winter.

when home is a person that you can’t have, what does home become?

osamu flips to the second page. the kanji is messier, strokes uneven, with increasing amounts of hiragana to substitute the characters that suna couldn’t remember how to write. he is quiet, eyes traveling across the lines, pensive. then, he reaches the last page, which only contains a few lines.

when i’m with you, i feel timeless, because my love for you is infinite, no matter the distance or time. i used to fear what the life without volleyball would look like, but i’m not afraid anymore, because i know that it’ll always be with you.

“rin.” a hand finds his, the slim silver band digging into his skin. suna looks into osamu’s eyes, the same as he did on their wedding day, and sees nothing but love in its depths, an endless pool constructed of memories between them, from the first day they met at inarizaki, to now, sitting on his floor among boxes, packing a past to bring into the future.

“i never told ya, but in all those years…i never stopped lovin’ ya, either.” his voice rumbles deep and tight, the telltale sign that he’s holding back tears. “i knew why we had ta do it, but…if i were more selfish, i woulda asked ta keep tryin’, an’ tryin’, an tryin’. yer worth all my effort.”

“i wish we were both more selfish,” suna murmurs. “but look. we made it.” he puts their hands together, matching bands gleaming in the light. “you’re a successful business owner. i had the best volleyball run of my life. and now, we have each other. we’ll always have each other.”

the letter falls as they kiss, enveloped in one another’s warmth. there is one part of the writing where the ink is smudged, paper slightly wrinkled, relics of tears shed for a lost love, now a witness to a love that is eternal, that will light their way through the unknown, that will guide them to a new life.

together.

[asktheyigamaster]

You've got a degree in ancient Sheikah engineering, don't you? I'm curious, what powers the Divine Beasts? Must be something powerful if they can be dug up after 10,000 years and not need refueling...

The Divine Beasts are fuelled by a complicated knot of intertwined Ancient Sheikah tech! I couldn't possibly explain it to a layperson

that's not really true

WELL IT IS but more in a practical sense of categorically and straightforwardly...

I DONT REALLY KNOW OK

I didn't make the damn things! And the blueprints were very secret even then, as well as the first thing to go after then Princess decided she was done with the idea.

There are Environmental engines on The Beasts! I saw Vah Medoh generates some energy from wind turbines, I imagine Vah Ruta has some thermal ones and Vah Rudania might have some lightning catchers.

But that is definitely supplemental, for efficiency and energy recycling. I can't imagine something like that fueling SOMETHING LIKE THAT.

Main fuel is probably the same blue juice Ancient Sheikah were putting into everything back then - processed Light. And yes, pay attention, it's Light with a capitalized L. That stuff reacts to people, not things. So if properly sealed it could last until the the end of time. And no wonder it didn't get spent after 10 000 underground. Not like the Beasts were moving a lot down there.

But that's fuel! I wouldn't say it "powers" the Divine Beasts.

Fuel is just a part of the mechanism. No more no less then all the movy-pushy piston thingies. Can you really say something ""powers"" a machine if it can be full to the brim with the stuff and still immobile?

Nah, what "powers" the Divine Beasts for real are the pilots

Unlike Guardians, which have a simpleton free will of their own, The Big Guns wouldn't move an itty bitty inch without them.

Without pilots and empathic cores I mean. The craziest part of the whole Divine Beast project.

At once ludicrous and elegant solution to the problem of "We want Sages to operate these giant complex machines, but we can't have them trained as machinists for 3 decades."

The ancient Sheikah just made it so the machines in qestion could agree with the pilots! Easy! Simple as creating an artificial intelligent personality that instinctually feels its enormous mechanical body, but lacks a will to move it. As well as a telephatic link between it and a person, so all a Sage really needs to operate a Divine Beast is to "hit it off"™ with their ride and for the two of them to agree on what the Beast should be doing at the moment.

Pish-posh, easy-peasy, banana-squeezy. Developed and built the whole thing on a weekend afternoon, no sweat, no issue.

Totally didn't take a life time of effort and dedication form the greatest Sheikah minds of the time, maybe of all time, to complete. Perfect thing to use once and burry out of sight, out of mind.

[thegreatimpersonator]

How do you reason if taylor doesnt speak up about palestine in the near future? Because there’s an air of finality in her silence about this cause. Especially now that we know an israeli supporter (capital one) sponsored her US leg of tour, even her eras tour seems dirty. She is so quick to release new versions of ttpd (31 versions as of now), after billie indirectly called her out.

(Sidebar— yes billie may be a hypocrite to talk about wasteful variants of albums to be produced one after another to supplement chart topping. BUT she wasn’t wrong and not only was taylor in a position to set an example of reducing waste in music industry because of her titan status, she used that position to punch down further on billie’s release week, despite it not affecting ttpd’s #1 rank. Talk about stepping on her gown and taking her crown. Olivia creating a distance from taylor since the royalties incident has left a bad taste in my mouth.)

Also, its not helpful that she dated and defended a racist last year, wrote an album about him.

small tangent before i get to the main point: i've said this before billie isn't a hypocrite for the vinyl thing. i think y'all really need to start looking into the actual articles instead of just reading headlines or hearing out-of-context quotes. the entire article with billie was about sustainability and how she works hard to make her variants out of 100% recycled material so they're less wasteful. she wasn't saying she was against all vinyl variants in general, she was saying she's against people who make a bunch of variants and not put the effort in to make sure it's not wasteful like she does. she was just asking people to be more sustainable with their variants.

now to the main point: i've already made peace a long time ago that she's not a good person. when she doubled down on dating a vocal bigot who says slurs for fun and gets off to black women getting brutalized and tried to make it look empowering for her, releasing a song about anyone who doesn't like bigotry as 'vipers dressed in empath's clothing', and just becoming the embodiment of true white feminism and being a huge hypocrite, fully abandoning her activism and regressing to the generic apolitical 'remember to register to vote' posts that she made before she promised to do more, all that plus she's also been openly ableist with parts of ttpd in terms of using problematic displays of mental hospitals/breakdowns and using them as an 'aesthetic', mocking/invalidating other peoples addiction/depression but then asking for empathy with her own mental issues, working with and befriending multiple abusers, zionists, etc all while remaining silent on a genocide that is dependent on gaining traction and attention so people can raise money to help (also releasing the eras tour movie in Israel actively during the genocide, then later selling it to disney+ which is on the boycott list) but making sure she's still the biggest star in the world, maintaining her platform but never using it for anything important or good, asking for more money for herself and fully showing that charts are more important to her than injustice or helping fellow humans, and showing all the causes she once said she cared about don't really matter to her.

i've fully accepted that she's not gonna talk about the genocide she can easily help. and if by a shocking turn of events she does, we'll all know it's because she was losing fans not because she actually cares (which i know isn't the point, it's not about her, and her speaking up will help the cause so much so she still should; but i'm speaking in terms of how it reflects on her and her intentions). none of this should be surprising, i've seen a lot of people say this might be their last straw with her and that's completely valid, but my last straw was used up about a year ago. none of her new behavior is causing frustration to me because i was already frustrated to begin with. i don't need to reason with it because i did a long time ago.

[olderthannetfic]

While I do feel the entire "read books my X minority" can and often is useful, I also feel that it falls under that same sort of individual consumer choices over systemic change problem we encounter a lot. Because while it is good to expand your horizons and help support authors who might be disadvantaged in the current publishing industry, what is far more important for long-term change is addressing systemic inequality in the publishing industry. It's like how it's good to recycle as an individual but it's not going to fix global warming.

You cannot tell an author's race just by reading the summary or even the book itself. In this way books can be surprisingly equitable when reaching an audience in terms of an individual looking at a bookshelf and deciding what to read (though of course the contents of the books can impact a potential reader's choice to pick it up such as the main character being non-white, as well as what they've heard about what others think of the book which can be affected by the author's demographic). But how does the book get on that shelf in the first place?

And on how many shelves? How does it get to be advertised? How is it marketed? How does it get published in the first place? What of the internet and the algorithms? What of industry connections? What allows a book to be written, when that takes time and effort in a capitalist society where women often are assigned more domestic labour and class is heavily influenced by race and the lack of support we have for disabled people andandand–! And of course many authors have managed to write under even worse circumstances but if we're talking about the general trends in the industry, where the privileged merely need to be good (or not even that) while the disadvantaged must put in double the time and effort to get a foot in the door and still they might face discrimination from publishers who do not first see a book but are dealing directly with the author first–

Not to mention I am very uncomfortable with how marginalized authors need to expose themselves to the masses' scrutiny for judgment, often at great risk of harassment with focus put on really vulnerable parts of themselves, for even a chance at success now. Making them essentially sell their status as marginalized to the public is not a good alternative to the publishing industry not publishing or marketing books by marginalized authors.

This is basically just a long way of saying we need to deal with capitalism and get a UBI.

--

And like film and such, while it's nice to have a minority author or actor, it's a fuckload more helpful to have a major publishing exec or producer.

[squib-2006]

like a month and a half ago I wrote about Ninjago for a school essay and it has been itching at my brain cuz my teacher gave me an 80 on both the draft and final despite me adding three new paragraphs to it like he suggested and also having three people proofread it and say it was good. he didn't even tell me what I did wrong and it's driving me insane. so I thought I might share it here because I put a lot of effort into it.

(will include spoilers for Dragons Rising season one but not season 2 cuz this was written before it came out)

Ninjago Dragons Rising and How to do a Soft Reboot

When a show goes on for a while, it can become pretty stagnant. The way showrunners and creators try to fix this problem is with a soft reboot. They introduce new characters and locations to spice things up, or in the most extreme cases, they reset the entire story, but still try to acknowledge that everything that happened before still happened. This can have a polarizing effect on fans of the show, and it may, or may not, drive some fans away. In the case of Lego Ninjago, a show that has been going on for fifteen seasons as of 2022, the writers have a challenge in trying to do a soft reboot, while not sacrificing the history and appeal of the show. This is the first time I have seen a soft reboot that has managed to keep the heart and soul of a show while making things fresh and new.

One of the first things that they improved was the characterization. A lot of the time, if a show goes on for a while, the characters can suffer from Flanderization. “The act of taking a single (often minor) action or trait of a character within a work and exaggerating it more and more over time until it completely consumes the character. Most always, the trait/action becomes completely outlandish, and it becomes their defining characteristic, turning them into a caricature of their former selves” (“Flanderization”). This is often quite common in media that has gone on for a while. For example, one of the characters Kai started out as a hot-headed brave person, but as the show went on, he became more stupid and reckless.

The show fixed this by giving the characters a new purpose. Kai became a mentor to Wyldfyre, a new character in the show, and he became more levelheaded and enjoyable as a character. He isn’t the only character to benefit from new characters being added. All of the new characters serve a purpose to the show. Arin is one of the new main characters, he acts as an audience surrogate, specifically for the returning fans of the series. To put it in simple terms, Arin is a super fan of the main cast. This background allows him to make references to the older seasons, without it sounding forced or out of place. On the other hand, his counterpart Sora has the exact opposite role. She is the audience surrogate for newcomers. She isn’t from the original world where some of the main cast came from. Thus, she is able to ask questions that will fill in newcomers to the show on old lore from previous seasons.

Another thing that they did, that I haven’t seen in other shows, is expand the world. In the world of the show, there exists sixteen realms. The whole plot of the soft reboot is that all of these realms merge together, which makes one massive new world. This opens up a lot of possibilities, and the world that the show existed in before the soft reboot was already thoroughly explored. Adding the new area definitely adds a new layer of excitement to the show.

The show also had a problem with stale villains. They have recycled villains multiple times, and most villains are pretty bland. With the new show, they added the kingdom of Imperium, which has its own villain empress Beatrix. Her lackeys, Ras and Rapton, are both unique in their own ways. Rapton is a dragon hunter, who is obsessed with capturing dragons for fun. While Ras is a mysterious outsider from another realm, he has an allegiance to another unknown person, and this adds mystery to his character.

I have watched this show since I was in third grade. It has been an important part of my life for years. Every time there was a new trailer, I would spend hours looking over every little detail and theorizing what would happen next. Up until season 10, all the episodes would air on Cartoon Network, which was unfortunate since my family used streaming services instead. I was so excited to go to my grandparents and watch the episodes since they had cable. Eventually with season 11, they moved the show to Netflix, and I got to watch them as they came out instead of binging them all at once when I went to my grandparents’ house.

Unfortunately for me season 11 was extremely disappointing. The season had a good concept, but a poor execution. It also used a lot of tropes for the characters and failed to resolve the conflict in a satisfying way. This season is known amongst fans as one of the worst seasons to ever come out of the show. It was so disappointing to me, that when I saw the trailer for season 12, I just lost interest. The plot seemed boring, and I didn’t care for the character they were focusing on. So, I dropped the show and ignored it for about two years, until I saw a clip from an episode I had never watched. To my surprise, I liked it, and it was actually funny for once. I ended up looking up more clips and episodes, eventually watched the seasons I missed, and regretted giving up the show. Season 11 was just a rough patch, and due to me dropping the show, I had missed two of the best seasons the show had ever had, seasons 13 and 14. Season 15 was an ok season all together. Looking back a year and a half later, it was definitely made to tie up any loose ends that the show had before the soft reboot happened.

All this change and improvement is great for the series. When the creators first announced that Ninjago was getting a new TV show, and that it would be a soft reboot of the show, I was concerned. Soft reboots have a history of not really benefiting a show at all. It often ends up falling back on old ideas or introduces new ideas that don’t fit well with the show. As more trailers and clips started releasing, I was once again reminded why I love the show so much. The world and characters are amazing, and the story never fails to reel me in. This new TV series is a promising new step in a good direction. I personally can’t wait until the next season.

[onelastskip]

Just out of curiosity, how many MCs did you make for Keyframes? Can you tell us a bit about them? I'm interested to know :D

OMGGG HAIII!!!

Technicallyyy 4? I played through the game on all seasons but my other MCs aren't as fleshed out (and I haven't drawn them...) — but I'll talk about what I have anyway!

So obviously Chi was my first baby girl, autumn, romancing Percy straight away, I yap about her a lot already but here's a fun fact I haven't mentioned yet, her full name is Chi Huệ Aubade, very cool!

My next mc was Mika (she's sort recycled from olba, sorta not because I hate the idea of being unfaithful to cove, idk if that makes sense just the way my brain works) she's a summer and... well I was supposed to romance Elio... but then the Percy summer meeting hit me like a truck and I went for him again... now she probably won't get fleshed out but I'm thinking of doing a male mc elio summer run (for real this time, no percy shenanigans)

And then I have my spring mc, Nari, and- I will admit I was very close to reromancing Percy but no! they are a Jamie romance (slowwburn tho) cause I found the cupcake confrontation was so good with a spring personality. So they're uh, well to describe them, in a word, they're self-assured (technically two but semantics). They're extremely competent and they know it, they have a big ego and tend to be overconfident, brash and competitive. Andd they also have a crippling fear of emotional connection and an avoidant attachment style. love my little guys who are so smart yet so very stupid. Anyway their dynamic with Jamie is sort of teasing? They were expecting to be annoyed by him bcos of his reputation but they ended up liking him more than they thought. They have a sort of "people disappoint me" expectation, a lot of the friends and relationships they've had in the past were shallow (not for lack of trying? but nari really didn't put any effort in) they only really mesh with deja and cam and don't even try to form deeper relationships with others, the boys are the first friends they've made in a while, and their first time besides with cam and deja actually trying to connect with people. They're an ISTJ and fun fact about them theyyy are very good at chess.

And lastly my winter mc, Yumi (name pending.) they're my no romance route (or slowburn? it depends how it plays out I guess). They're... to describe them in one word. Chill (lol). They're an artist turned law student and they are very go with the flow. They are also doing a minor of sociology! They stopped painting in their last year of highschool because they were told they needed to start taking things seriously (they had pretty bad-average grades before). While they're generally patient and relaxed, when they do get angry, they are no holds barred, cussing out authority figures, not a single thought in that brain, they get very passionate when they're being confrontational. They're an INTP and fun fact about them they know how to skateboard.

WAIIIIT- I'M GONNA USE THIS ASK TO YAP ABOUT THE ENNEAGRAM (sorry anon my attention span is kinda fucked, ADHD ramble incoming)

Okay I've mentioned before Chi's a 2w3, little lore drop, she's got family issues (eldest daughter in an asian family /hj) but yeah there's a lot of pressure from that direction, that's part why she's doing a law degree (polisci? I forget how it is in america), she was rushed into picking a degree and just went with what she was best at. Anyway I should probably explain the enneagram oops, OKAY, so she has a type 2 fixation, which basically means, she's got a gaping hole where her self esteem is and she tries to patch that up by creating relationships (people pleaser...), that's why she tries to be as helpful as possible all the time, she's got a deep seated fear of abandonment and feels like she can only be loved if she's providing some sort of support (usually as an emotional dumping ground) to the other person.

Buttt, thankfully when she got to college she met Deja and Cam, who did NOT fuck with that kinda behaviour so she's slowly getting better, I imagine over the course of her time at college she gets better at loving herself and sets boundaries with her parents, fixes the relationship (the other drama is she has younger siblings who are still with them and yeah) idk I just like writing character arcs like this it helps me understand my ocs better I think

onto my other mcsss:

uhh Mika's a 7w8, but I'm gonna skip her since she'll probably get reworked into something else anywayyy

so Nari has a type 5 fixation, their whole deal is they need to feel competent, need to feel like they understand the world around them because it's a scary place and if something doesn't fit in with the way they understand things that means they understand nothing. Anyway, their little character arc would actually be centred on the relationship, it's a story about them accepting emotional vulnerability, letting down their walls, losing their rigid world view, and choosing to trust in another person and fall in love :3

Yumi (name pending) has a type 9 fixation, their problem is... well basically, on the surface, they're confident, calm, collected, composed (heh alliteration), they really seem like they've got it all together but internally they've resigned themself to being another cog in the machine. They've lost their passion in life and they're stuck in the pit of "it is what it is". Their character arc would probably involve them dropping out of college and pursuing something they actually care about, that being art.

[nocreativityfornames]

A rant from a tired Beel enjoyer

I can't find a nicer way to get into this, so I'm just gonna go all out and say it: Why did Solmare make our chats and calls with Beel so damn boring?

I swear, ALL this man ever talks to us about is food. No matter the situation, with Beel, it always circles back to eating somehow. He either wants an opinion on food, or he's asking us to accompany him to a new restaurant, or he's arguing with someone because of food. I mean, even our first call with him on NB it's just him calling us on accident when he actually wanted to order pizza ( a trope that has already been recycled from another call in the og game, by the way ).

And I have to say, it's tiring. It's tiring because I love this character so much and I was so ready to get better Beel content when NB came out. But no, the calls and chats with him have somehow become even more bland. And now when I get a chat notification from him I just get this overwhelming feeling of boredom, because I know exactly what's going to happen: it's going to be yet another chat where we talk about food. 🙃

You can just see there's no effort being put into these convos, especially when compared with the other characters, who we get to talk about a variety of things with. And this has been a problem ever since OMSWD, since the majority of our chats with him there were also about food. But at least we got some that weren't, for example, one of my favorites, where Beel confesses that the reason he had been missing was that he was taking care of this dying flower. Or the other chats where he talks to us about training and Fangol, or just little things like sleeping on MC's lap and wanting to do it again or whatever.

But on Nightbringer? I swear, all chats and calls so far have been nothing but repetitive and forgettable ( at least for me, that is ). And it bothers me soooo much because this only happens with him! We get plenty of different topics to talk about with the others, but Beel? Beel can only ever talk about food, or Belphie, which is… not great at all…

And it sucks because Beel has so much potential, being the lovable character that he is. But the devs only give 3 layers to him: The meathead, the family protector with survivor's guilt, and… Belphegor's twin brother 😐. That's all, we get nothing more and it's left to us to give him more depth and make him less one-dimensional.

It's disappointing, to say the least. And I haven't seen a lot of people discuss this before, so yeah.

[kgenvs3000w25]

BLOG 5: Interpreting the Super Bowl through Environmental Lenses

Unit 5 highlighted nature interpretation through science. As many of you may know, the Super Bowl is taking place today, one of the most watched sporting events. My family and I are big football fans, so, we are passionate about watching this event, even if our favoured team isn’t playing. Since there was no prompt for this week, I thought it would be interesting to make connections between the Super Bowl and the environment. 

This is my sister showing her support for our favourite team, even though we were away from home!

How does the Super Bowl affect the environment around us?

Since the Super Bowl is such a large event, many celebrities will attend, and they will be using private jets that expend a lot of fuel. There will also be many people in general travelling to the city from all around to see the game, resulting in excess carbon emissions. Excess carbon dioxide release contributes to climate change and global warming which then leads to further disruption of environments and ecosystems. With hundreds of thousands of people attending the city where the Super Bowl takes place, there will be large amounts of garbage and waste produced. Another major impact is energy consumption. This event uses mass amounts of energy to power the stadium, restaurants, hotels, lights, speakers, etc. Even the amount of people watching, via TV around the world, requires massive amounts of energy. With so many people in the city, there will be a lot of foot traffic and sightseeing. This could scare off wildlife and damage their habitats. I feel like so many people overlook the effects of this event and only see the fun/glorified parts. In a way, I think this relates to the TED talk from unit 5. The speaker ultimately takes something we see as just a simple feather and shows us just how meaningful it is and how it is more than just what meets the eye. In terms of the Super Bowl, we look at it as this fun sporting event with crazy commercials, however, the impact of this event is far greater than meets the eye, especially environmentally.  

How does the NFL work to reduce the impact of the Super Bowl on the environment?

Over the years, the NFL and the cities hosting the Super Bowl have implemented strategies that work to reduce their impact on the earth. To reduce the effect of this event, the NFL has created an environmental program called NFL Green. The NFL creates partnerships with local organizations, committees, and the government to put these strategies to work. To combat carbon emissions and ecosystem degradation, there are greening projects that plant trees, create gardens, grow produce and plant seedlings for reforestation. To reduce and/or combat the waste produced by this event, the stadiums will increase their recycling efforts. Waste diversion programs will also be created to keep the waste from entering the landfills. In terms of emissions and energy consumption, renewable energy is used to power these events. The NFL will estimate the amount of energy they are going to use at the event and buy renewable energy certificates that are equal to the estimation. 

As a football fan, I am happy to discover there are many ways the NFL and its communities are working to reduce their environmental impacts not only before and during the event, but for many years after. 

Are there any other strategies you think the NFL could implement to mitigate their impact on the environment during and after these events?

Official site of the National Football League. NFL.com. (n.d.). https://www.nfl.com/causes/nflgreen/

Schaal, T. (2024, July 19). Environmental impact of the Super Bowl. OWL AI. https://owlesg.com/2024/02/09/environmental-impact-of-the-super-bowl/ 

[stargazer-sims]

The Art of Redemption

(part 12)

previous // next // story index

—————

"Good news, children!" Stan bursts through the doorway of the guest room without so much as a knock. He doesn't seem the least bit shocked or bothered by the fact that Beth-Anne is curled up next to Nikolai in the big bed. "You're gonna love this!"

Beth-Anne drags her eyelids open a little further. She’s tired, and it’s an effort. "Jesus, Stan! Ever heard of privacy?"

Stan quirks an eyebrow. "What? I'm not interrupting something, am I? I didn't think you swung that way."

"The fuck...?" She seizes the nearest soft object she can reach, which happens to be Nikolai's grey teddy bear, and flings it at him. "Fuck off!"

Stan catches the bear neatly. He's laughing. "And all this time, I thought you were a morning person. You too, little Kolya."

Beside her, Nikolai groans sleepily. "This is a bad dream, right?"

"Do you often dream about being in bed with your coach?" Stan asks, his tone filled with mock-innocence.

"Oh my God. Please stop." Nikolai grabs the edge of the quilt and pulls it up so that only the top of his messy brown hair is visible. "I'm not in bed with her."

"That’s not what it looks like, but okay," Stan says.

"You know what I mean!"

"I call it as I see it," Stan says, "Anyway, it's fine. Whatever the two of you get up to behind closed doors is none of my business. You're both adults."

"Stan, enough." Beth-Anne tries to put as much steel into her tone as possible. She knows he's only teasing and she's sure Nikolai knows it too, but just because she enjoys Stan's sometimes inappropriate sense of humour, that doesn't mean everyone's going to appreciate it. It's fairly obvious Nikolai is uncomfortable, and Beth-Anne isn't keen to let that continue. "What do you want?

"I just wanted to tell you the good news," Stan says cheerfully. "We had a shit ton of snow overnight. Everything's closed. Schools, shopping malls..." He gives her a conspiratorial wink, as if the closures were organized specifically for their benefit. "Municipal sport and recreation facilities."

Nikolai peeks out from under the blanket. "You mean, the rink is closed?"

"All the municipal facilities," Stan says. "Rinks, pools, libraries, the recycling depot. Probably even City Hall. We're having a genuine, certified snow day, and personally, I don't intend to waste it lying around."

"We weren't lying around. We were literally sleeping," Beth-Anne points out.

"Details," Stan says. "Now, let's go. Haul ass, kids. Milena's making breakfast, and then we need to clear the driveway. Betka's work isn't closed, and the whole fucking world would have to end before they gave her husband a day off, so she's bringing the boys over to spend the day. It's gonna be great."

"Can we at least take showers and put on some clean clothes first?"

Stan grins at her. "Sure, if you want cold breakfast. Come on. Eat now, shower later."

And so, unable to argue with the force of nature that is Stanislav Kovac, they do.

She and Nikolai climb out of bed and trail Stan to the kitchen where Milena is in the process of making what might be banana pancakes. The warm, inviting scents of coffee and savoury sausage fill the room, and there's already a pitcher of orange juice, a carton of milk and an array of condiments on the table.

Beth-Anne has lost count of how many times she's sat in the Kovacs' kitchen and shared a meal with them. After her accident, she'd lived with them for several months while she recovered her ability to walk and her courage to face the world beyond the safety of their four walls. They helped her stay sober and sane, and their steady presence healed her in ways she's sure none of them have words to explain.

Milena and Stan and their daughter Alzbeta — known affectionately as Betka — taught her what it was like to be part of a healthy and loving family, and from them she learned that relying on others isn't a sign of weakness, that there's far more strength in the care and support of others than anyone could ever find alone.

She feels at home in the Kovacs' house and comfortable with their quirks as well as their routines. It's not strange for her to observe Milena at the stove, dressed in old gym shorts and one of Stan's shirts, preparing what she and Stan both insist is the most important meal of the day, neither is it odd for her to see Stan dancing gracefully around the kitchen in his ridiculous plush moose slippers that would be a serious tripping hazard for someone less agile and less aware of the capabilities of his body.

The vintage radio is tuned to a classical music station, and one of Stan's favourite pieces of music has just come on. Beth-Anne recognizes it. It's Les Patineurs Op. 183, by the nineteenth-century composer Émile Waldteufel, and she'd once skated to it in a competition. She suspects Stan may have skated to it at some point too. His dance looks choreographed, the movements long-remembered and clearly beloved.

Milena says something to him in their native Czech, and he replies in English, "Yes, I remember." He spins fluidly across the floor until he's next to her, and then he kisses her on the cheek. "I remember we both got something gold that night."

Beth-Anne smiles. She knows exactly what he's referring to.

Stan delights in telling the story of how he proposed to Milena. He'd been planning it for weeks and had even bought a ring, but hadn't actually presented it to her when he asked her to marry him. Instead, he'd given her his newly-won gold medal from Skate Canada. Apparently, he'd been too excited and full of adrenaline to wait for their next proper date and he'd proposed right there at the competition venue.

The first time Beth-Anne heard that story, she hadn't been the least bit surprised. It was perfectly in-character for Stan. What was also characteristically Stan was how he'd later taken that very same medal to a goldsmith, where it'd been melted down and refashioned into Stan and Milena's wedding bands.

"So we can always wear our greatest victory for the world to see," he'd said.

Beth-Anne loves that Stan considers his marriage to Milena his greatest victory.

We should all be so fortunate, she thinks.

She asks Milena if there's anything she can do to help with breakfast, although she already knows what the answer will be.

"No, it's under control," Milena assures her. "Grab a coffee and have a seat. This'll all be ready in a few minutes."

She fixes coffee for herself and Nikolai, and then joins him at the table. True to her word, Milena carries a huge platter of pancakes and sausage to the table a few minutes later. Stan finally decides to sit down as well, and they all enjoy some carefree chatter and the delicious food that's as filling to Beth-Anne's spirit as it is to her stomach.

After breakfast, she and Stan dress up to go outside and clear the driveway. Nikolai offers to help, but both she and Stan veto the idea immediately. He may be walking more confidently now, but there's no way they're going to let him shovel snow.

Milena says he can stay inside with her and help tidy up the kitchen. Beth-Anne is grateful to Milena for offering him a way to feel useful, and evidently Nikolai is too, because he happily acquiesces.

With Nikolai left in Milena's capable hands, Beth-Anne follows Stan out through the garage. They collect two wide snow shovels and then make their way outdoors. Stan wasn't wrong about how much it had snowed in the night. Yesterday, she'd guessed it might snow, but she had no idea they'd be up past their knees in it. It's still snowing lightly, with no signs of stopping soon, but if they don't start cleaning up now, it'll be that much more difficult when the storm finally does dwindle to its inevitable end.

For the first little while, they don't say much, other than to comment about how cold it is or how astonished they are by the unexpectedly heavy snowfall. By the time they've removed all the snow from the doorstep and walkway and the front of the garage, however, Stan seems more inclined to converse. They're clearing around his car when he says, "So, last night...?"

"What about last night?" she queries. "If this is gonna be about me and Nikolai sleeping in the same bed..."

"No, it's not," Stan says. "I know nothing happened. Well, nothing like that at least, but even if you did get up to something frisky, it's like I already said. You're adults. You do what you want. What I'm talking about was you screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night."

"Oh, God." Beth-Anne moans. "I'm so sorry. It's bad enough that I woke Nikolai. I didn't know I woke you and Milena too."

"You didn't wake Milena. That woman could sleep through World War Three. But, it took all my willpower not to run downstairs and check on you."

"And you didn't come down because...?"

"Because I remembered Nikolai was in there with you. Or you were in there with him, I suppose, since you didn't come up to the room we offered you."

"Yeah, well it was a little, uh... noisy up there for my tastes."

Stan snorts in his effort not to laugh. "Right. Apologies for that, but when your wife's rocking the boy-cut underwear and looking hot as fuck, sometimes you just gotta do something, you know?"

"I love that you still think she's hot."

"And why wouldn't i? Sure, she looks different than she did when we were eighteen, but so what? She's my benchmark for beauty. Everybody else has to measure up to her."

"You're amazing, you know."

"I know," Stan says, but then he turns serious again. "Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you're okay after the talk we had yesterday, and then whatever happened last night."

"Yeah, I'm surprisingly okay," she says. "I'm not cured, obviously, but I do feel better today. It was a pretty bad nightmare, but Nikolai looked after me. We talked afterwards, and he gave me some stuff to think about, whether he realizes it or not."

"What stuff?"

"For one thing, he seems to think I'm not going to end up being a danger to anybody. Maybe he's an optimist, but he thinks the kids are safe."

"Of course they are," Stan says. "Don't I keep telling you that? We didn't have you in anger management therapy back in the day for no reason, did we?"

"No. There was a reason. It was to keep me safe. And other people safe from me."

"Yeah, but it was also for your future, and you see how well it's worked out. You're like a second mom to some of those kids of yours.

"Nikolai said something like that too."

"So Nikolai tells you one time, and you believe him?"

"No, it's not that," she says. "It's not like I believe Nikolai and I don't believe you. It just seems easier to believe when I'm hearing it from more than one person, if that makes sense."

"It does," says Stan. "Not that I'm telling you to take a poll or anything, but if you did, I'll bet you'd hear the same thing from all your students' parents. I mean, the fact that they trust you with their kids should tell you as much."

She smiles wryly. "I just wish I could trust myself."

"That takes time, but you know what I think might help?"

"What?"

"Remember how you used to be," he says. "Look at how far you've come since I first met you, how much fuckin' awesome progress you've made as a human being, not just as an athlete and a coach. Not only should you trust yourself to do the right things, but you should be damn proud of yourself for getting it mostly right so far."

"Mostly right."

"Nobody's perfect."

"True," she agrees. She moves a few more shovelfuls of snow before she continues. "There was something else."

"Something else Nikolai said to you, you mean?"

"Yeah."

"And...?"

"I told him about Abby, and I told him how I got the scars."

Stan makes a sombre hum of affirmation. "That took courage."

"It felt like the right thing to do."

"How'd he take it?"

"I'd say he was shocked, but not totally surprised, and he said he didn't think any of it was my fault. And do you know what he asked me?"

Stan plants his shovel in the snow. He rests his gloved hands on top of the handle and leans forward a little, meeting her eyes. "I get the sense it's something you didn't see coming."

"You're right," she confirms. She pokes the snow a bit with the blade of her own shovel before sticking it into the nearest drift and copying Stan's posture. "He asked me if I've tried looking for Abby recently."

"Have you?" Stan asks.

Beth-Anne shakes her head. "No, but the more I think about it, the more I think maybe I should."

"Are you prepared for something like that? Like, emotionally and psychologically prepared?"

"No, but if I wait for a moment when I fell like I'm totally ready, maybe I'll never do it, and maybe this is something I need to do now, you know? Maybe it's the next step I need to take to move on."

"What if you find out something you'd rather not know?"

"Like what? The worst thing I could learn is something I already accept might be a possibility, that my sister died in the eighties. But, Stan..." She gazes at him intently, willing him to comprehend her sudden earnestness. "Stan, what if she didn't? What if she escaped that hell, and what if some foster family loved her and raised her like their own? I could still have a sister out there somewhere."

"This may not have a happy ending," he says.

"I know, but even if she doesn't remember me or doesn't want to meet me, or even if she really did pass away years ago, I think I'd feel better knowing the truth about what happened."

Stan presses his lips together as if he's deep in thought, attempting to come up with an adequate response. "I don't want you to think I'm discouraging you from doing this," he says at length. "You should, if you think it's what you need to do. I just don't want you to be hurt."

"I know," she smiles at him. "You always want to protect me, and it's one of the reasons I love you, but remember what you're always saying. We don't achieve anything if we're not willing to take risks."

"That sounds like the kind of motivational shit I'd say at the rink."

"It applies just as well to life off the ice."

He frowns, but she understands it's not because he's upset. It's because he's worried but also has to concede her point. "Knowing the truth likely would give you some closure," he says. "Maybe it would help you move on.

"Nikolai suggested Milena might be able to help," she tells him. "He said she might know how to get access to family court records and old documents from Social Services and stuff like that."

"Milena's not that kind of lawyer," Stan says. "But I'll bet there's somebody at her firm who is. I can ask her, if you want."

"No," Beth-Anne says. "I have to be sure I'm really doing this. I need to think about it a little more. When I'm sure I’m going ahead with it, I'll ask her myself."

Stan nods. "Okay. If you need to talk about it any more in the meantime, I'm here."

"Thanks," she says. "I'm grateful I can always count on you."

He smiles. "Hey, what's family for? No matter what happens, we've always got your back."