#like i pronounce it fine but a random letter gets added in

[pookiepiss69]

idk if it’s bc when i was younger i didnt learn how to speak english until i was like 6 but i cannot pronounce certain words for the life of me AND IVE GONE TO SPEECH THERAPY TWICE.

[natequarter]

potential flaws of an english spelling reform:

the biggest problem is dialects. not only does english have a shit ton of dialects, it has multiple prestige dialects. this isn't necessarily a problem for reforming inconsistent consonants, but rather for those goddamn vowels

think about all those splits and mergers! mary-marry-merry. trap-bath. strut-foot. etc. you fundamentally cannot reform english without making it either a) dialectical b) wrong for 90%+ of speakers or c) a dysfunctional mess, which is pointless because english is already that

specific sound changes like yod coalescence and rhotic (or tapped) r can pose a big problem as well. even though we don't pronounce r in all dialects, we generally note it down: warm, car, etc. how do you reform spelling for both rhotic and non-rhotic accents? and yod coalescence. nobody ever brings this up, because rhotic r affects american english (and some british accents, though some have different r sounds entirely) and yod coalescence affects british english, and most youtubers making spelling reforms are american in my experience, but many english people don't pronounce, say, due/new/tune like americans do: /j/ comes in so that due is a homophone of jew in british english, which it may not be in american english. if you reform new to be spelt as noo, then that fails to reflect the pronunciation of new as /njuː/. but i digress

frankly, a lot of spelling reforms are just ugly. please stop

some parts of english do currently reflect the etymology of words. it's a lot harder to see the relationship between oblige and obligation if one is spelt eblàij and the other is spelt obligàshen

people really like getting rid of the letter c and using k/q instead. why? what do k and q do that c can't? get rid of the digraph qu, get rid of k, use c to represent /k/ and use s for /s/ and z for /z/. k and q are rubbish letters

bringing back or finding new letters isn't necessarily useful. yeah, sure, you can revive þ, but is there a need? we already have p/b/d, which all look very similar. adding the thorn in is just confusing, and the digraph th doesn't need a reform. it would be cool to differentiate voiceless and voiced dental fricatives, but a) ð is the superior letter, and b) th literally works fine. nobody is complaining about this except conlangers! th, ch, and sh are all valid digraphs; all you need to do to fix them is eliminate tch, make th/ch/sh have consistent sound values (e.g. spell chandelier as shandelier), and the problem is solved

overall, there is often a desire to eliminate or introduce letters perceived as 'useful' or 'useless,' but the letters people want to introduce might be confusing to people who are dyslexic or don't recognise it, or the letter people want to remove is... literally fine, and could easily be solved with an accent or two

nobody ever accounts for stress patterns. english has very inconsistent stress patterns, but we could fix this by sticking an accent over stressed letters like in spanish. let's say circumflexes, because circumflexes are cool. attâck. rêquisite. insîstent. ôrange. refûte. obviously these are random examples, but you can easily clear up the issue of stress in this way

some spellings reflect grammar, not pronunciation. this is a bit like the problem of etymology: we spell the endings -ing and -ed to make them regular. -ed isn't necessarily pronounced as it's spelt; it usually ends up sounding more like a /t/ or a /d/. but we spell it like that to make constructing the past tense easier. of course, you could always reform it to -t or -d. then you could have words like laughd, or screamd. but people don't tend to think about that

people need to be able to learn your system! any orthography which becomes transformed or, god forbid, a different script, is going to be impossible to implement. we have too much literature in our current spelling. it would be expensive and unpopular. any change must be something within our limits

ultimately, i think the only plausible spelling reforms are of english's consonants/stress patterns. vowels are just too variable, but we could probably standardise some of those godforsaken silent consonants, irregular stress patterns, or inconsistently spelt consonants without fracturing england as we know it or just scaring the shit out of our audience. reform isn't impossible. it just isn't operable in the way many people want.

[maybe-solar-powered-calculator]

☼☼ SOLARs MAGNIFICENT CATALOGUING OF TAGs (!!!!) ☼☼ (all added to the bottom of this post for navigating convenience! like the letter labels in a dictionary!! alphabetical order not guaranteed.)

[ THIS IS HARD TO READ ON LIGHT MODE!! if you opened it in another tab n it showed up with a white background, go here instead! ]

act 1: the sun is a deadly laser (i am, unfortunately, not.) >>> SELF TAGS! stuff that i made! or something like that! .. scribblings on the wall (text posts) // the deranged ramblings and annotations within the confines of my prison. .. solar.png (my art??) // patterns akin to primitive cave drawings. .. hammers this to the top of my enclosure (pinned/info stuff) // warnings, hazard signs, beware of dog, etc

act 2: empty plastic organization bins (chaos abounds in the lair) >>> SORTING TAGS! only my soul knows how i choose the tags for each post. i would say my heart, but that things squishy. bleh .. q (queue) // pronounced "kiu". what is going on with english. do i even want to know?? .. cool graphics tag (nice pictures) // visuals of any sort that i particularly like!! gif shitposts? best art ive seen in my lifetime?? Here Goes .. the divine compels to Art (inspo) // subset of cool graphics that i wish to consume- ahem. to study under a microscope and learn from! .. rattling metal bars with a stick (stimboards or gifs) // trakatrakatraka heheheheee .. bag (bug tag) (insects and insect-adjacent friends) // snails is also buges to me. thank you for understanding .. HSFGDHJ (hsfgdhj) // cackling like the terrible gremlin that i am. no im not good at keysmashes, yes i always use this predetermined one .. see also: hall of fame (fav, the best ones) // i would frame these and put them in my wall if i had the guts to .. see also: fine china cabinet (hehehehe) // things that would go to hall of fame, but for Mysterious Reasons(tm) i am instead snatching to the Display of Shinies .. look at this later tag (remind me to do it..) // useful, interesting, and/or free stuff i want to come back to. sometimes just ideas .. distillate for gender extract (Gender,,,) // i am putting these in. the spirally overcomplicated glass tube thing and injecting the resulting compound into my bloodstream like some sort of wretched hrt .. gnawing the bars of my cage (WOOFWOOFBARKBARK /pos) // (I AM NOT BEING NORMAL ABOUT THIS) - you know how cats nibble the corner of things sometimes. yeah,, .. resonant frequency (something got in my eye ow gimme a sec) // (Squishy Heart is at it again. FEELINGS (ack)!! GET THE BROOM!) .. rules to live by (good advice) // Wise Words from mad prophets. we are on this website after all

act 3: rng (random name generator) >>> SUBJECT TAGS! i like giving silly names to some of them. .. wild metal on the dash (metal sonic!!) // statistically, i purposely go search for them most of the time. sometimes he does be on my dash tho...... .. benrey spotted (beny) // confirmed gamer sightings .. cherry flavored halls (lil hal!!) // id swear there was a black and red type but eh. thats the next closest thing i guess .. hermit crabs and/or traffic cones (hermitcraft/traffic) // yay silly block people doing Crimes!!!! .. tango of the tek variety (tangotek) // you know the one and only .. honkhonk (sky:cotl) // HONKHONKHONKHONK (hi) .. the bl(orb)os (portal) // sometimes a guy is just spherical in nature. sometimes theres many of them! (mostly the cores, but also general portal tag)

act 4: There Might Be More!! I Probably Forgor! I Will Add Them Later!

[marril96]

When in Rome...

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Summary: Your and Rowena’s moment of fun is ruined when an alternate world hunter starts making unreasonable demands.

A/N: Set after 13x21.

Editor: @miss-moon-guardian​

*****

Things were hectic at the bunker, and if it wasn't for your and Rowena's tiny, same-private space, you would have gone insane. The two of you settled on a pair of chairs by the library, invisible to the swarm of people around you. It was more for your benefit like hers; Rowena could handle herself amongst people just fine, having done so for almost four hundred years.

As an introvert, you were finding it difficult. There was too much noise, too many people. They were like ants, swarming you, surrounding you, technically harmless but not enough for you to let your guard down. They may not have wished you harm, but the majority of them were still hunters. As such, they couldn't be trusted. Just because Rowena had helped them didn't mean they posed no threat. The two of you were witches, and that was enough for them to want you dead.

You were supposed to be on your way home by now. With the rift taken care of and everyone back home and safe, you and Rowena had done your part. But there were still a few things the Winchester needed help with and Sam had asked Rowena to stay for a while longer. She agreed, and thus you were stuck. You weren't going to leave her here alone, the only witch in a sea of humans. Leaving her alone had gotten her brutally tortured and murdered by Lucifer the year before, and from then on the two of you had agreed to stick together as much as you could. Where one went, the other followed.

"You have to work on your pronunciation," Rowena said. You were having difficulty with a spell and had asked her to help you out. Anything to pass the time.

"Gaelic is hard," you said.

"It is," Rowena agreed, sympathetic. She was a great teacher, endlessly patient, quick to calm you down every time you got into one of your I-quit moods. "Would it help if I wrote down the phonetics for you?"

"Yes, please!"

She smiled. "Alright." You handed her the piece of paper the spell was written on. She took a pen from the coffee table and started scribbling on the back. "When we get home, we're starting Gaelic lessons again."

"Okay." You'd handled Latin just fine, but could never grasp Gaelic. It was a difficult language to learn. Pronouncing it was all but impossible. "There's a language school in town. Maybe I should sign up for Gaelic lessons."

Rowena looked at you, deadpan, serious. "Don't insult me."

You grinned, which prompted a smile to break free on her mouth. "Just kidding. You're a good teacher."

She raised an eyebrow. "Just good?"

"Great. Awesome. Gorgeous." Her face lit up; the way to Rowena's heart was through flattery. "Sexy. Lovely. Adorable."

"Adorable?" she questioned.

"Most adorable." You booped her nose, and she scrunched up her face, confirming your words. Adorable. Adorablest. Goodness, you loved her! "God, you're so precious!"

She playfully smacked your arm, cheeks flaming, red as her hair. "Am not."

You pouted. "Ow! No violence!"

"Then behave."

"So mean."

"That's right. I'm mean. Not adorable, and certainly not precious."

"Sure." Your tone was dripping with sarcasm. Rowena rolled her eyes with all the drama of a theater actress, a practiced, seasoned one. "Think I'll ever be as powerful as you?"

The thought came to you out of nowhere, though it wasn't the first time you'd pondered it. Rowena was a powerful witch. One of the most powerful witches in the world. Was it possible for you to acquire such power? Birth hadn't gifted you nearly half of it, but was it possible to amplify what you had? Was practice and studying enough? Or would you forever be a regular witch, no different than any other in the crowd?

You were okay with being ordinary, but it would be a lie to say you didn't aspire to be like Rowena. The woman could make gods fall to their knees, could make archangels tremble in their vessels. One word, and what she wanted was hers. Who wouldn't want to be like her?

Many witches would kill for a chance to study under her. You were dating her. All you had to do was ask, and all her knowledge, gathered through centuries of hardship, was yours.

You just needed skill to harness it.

"Aye," Rowena said without a moment's hesitation. Completely and utterly sure of her response, as if you'd asked if the sky was blue or if bees made honey. She just knew it, and she was certain of it, and it made your heart swell up with warmth. "You're a natural-born witch, just like me. You're skilled, and you work hard." A smirk grazed her lips. "You have a great teacher, after all. I don't see why you wouldn't be like me. Power is taken, not given. Remember that, dear. I was born with potential, just like you. It was up to me what I did with it, and I made the most with it because why wouldn't I? It was mine for the taking."

She made it sound so easy. So effortless. Want? Take. Have. The end. If only you were gifted with such confidence. If only you were so sure of your capabilities. You weren't a bad witch by any means, but your power was still raw. Untamed. You still struggled. In comparison to Rowena, you were a peasant.

To be fair, almost every witch was a peasant in comparison to her, but that didn't make you feel any better about yourself.

"You're really good at pep talks, you know that?" you joked, trying to lighten the glum mood that befell you. No use beating yourself up over something trivial. After all, it was just magic. Your magic, that worked perfectly fine the way it was. However much you wanted it, you didn't need limitless power. You weren't helpless; you could defend yourself if you were in need. You could fight. You could have fun. So what if you couldn't seek out and kill reapers? It didn't make you any less of a witch, no matter what your insecurities said.

"Shut up!" Rowena said, a traitorous giggle — one of the most adorable, precious sounds she could make — escaping her mouth.

"You should pursue it as a career," you teased.

It earned you a glare that had to have killed before. The kind that scared everyone but you because you knew her enough to know she was all bark and no bite. A yappy puppy that loved to put on an act in attempts to be tough, all the while melting into a puddle at the softest touch.

You pecked the tip of her nose and blew her a kiss as she shot you another glare. The corners of her mouth twitched; she kept it shut, lips a thin line, giggles begging for freedom that would never come.

"You know what my favorite spell is?" Your eyes wandered to a bookshelf across from you, right behind Rowena. You focused on the spine of a random book; a leather-bound one, with neat writing and intricate lines trailing around the letters. As old as you and Rowena combined, possibly older. Beautiful in that way old, well-loved books were. Your hands rose up in the air, palms open, and you said, "Liber."

Magic stirred within you, a warm, comforting rush of delight, and the book shot out from the shelf, straight into your waiting hands. Your mouth dissolved into a grin as you clutched the book to your chest, heart brimming with pride, with wonder. No matter how many times you performed the same spell, it never ceased to amaze you.

"Lazy-arse," Rowena commented.

You shrugged. "Why should I get up when I can just say the word — Liber—" you glanced at another book, and it, too, jumped into your hands "—and voila! It's here."

Rowena shook her head. "I should have never taught you that spell."

"Hey!" you protested. "I'm a practical girl."

"You're a lazy girl."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

She sighed, shaking her head.

"It's fun and you know it! Liber!" This time it was a journal, written almost a century ago by some Man of Letters. You set it on your lap, atop the other two books. Rowena couldn't help it — she chuckled, and you shot her a smug glance. "Told ya."

"It's not—"

"Could you stop?"

The two of you looked up, startled by the unknown voice. A man was staring at you. He was tall, hair a scruffy brown, clothes hanging on him like curtains — Sam and Dean's borrowed flannel, too big for his skinny frame.

Rowena frowned. "Beg pardon?"

"Could you stop doing magic?" His voice was strained. Politeness as fake as the smile he was trying to put on. "Please."

"We're not doing anything bad," you said, baffled by the request. Unsure how to approach it. "We're just having fun."

He swallowed. Cleared his throat. Swallowed again. "Could you please not do it?"

Why did that please sound so accusatory? So insulting? As if he wanted to call you a bad word and opted for a pleasantry instead, hoping you wouldn't notice.

"Why should we not?" Rowena asked, daring him to shed the mask and say exactly what was on his mind. Challenging him the way she always did, never one to back down.

"It's making me uncomfortable," the man said.

Rowena raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"We're not doing anything to you," you said. You didn't even know his name. Up until now, you'd never seen him before in your life. Plenty of people had rushed in through the gate; you were more focused on Rowena, tired, at the end of her strengths, than the swarms of strangers bursting in through the rift.

"I don't like magic."

The man's cheeks flushed, a faint tint of shame staining them red. It was hard to believe he had any shame, saying things like that. For all you knew, it was as fake as everything else about him.

"Or witches." Instantly, pulling on a ridiculous smile, he added, "No offense."

People always said that, as if the phrase somehow made the blatantly offensive thing less offensive. As if it made it okay just because someone said (and lied through their teeth) they didn't mean it.

You stared at him, flabbergasted. Rowena's face was the picture of offense, but there was a flicker of amusement in the small smile on her mouth. She'd heard it all before. All the worst insults, she knew by heart. Nothing surprised her anymore. The audacity of the man, though, made her want to curse him right then and there (you could see it in her eyes, the desire to let her magic roam free, to unleash it upon him), but she kept herself in check. No need to make a scene — yet — over an insolent man.

"I don't mind you… doing whatever it is you do," he said. "Just, please, don't do it in front of me."

"Then don't look," Rowena said simply.

He tilted his head. "What?"

"If our magic bothers you so much, don't look at it. Surely you are able to look away?"

A nervous smile. "In my world, witches—" the word was spat out as if it were dirty, foul "—don't hang around hunters. And they don't use their magic around us, if they know what's good for them."

Was that a threat?

"This isn't your world, is it?" Rowena said, cold as ice. Tone a thinly-veiled threat.

"I'm just saying I'm not used to seeing magic being used so openly," the man said with an innocent shrug.

You couldn't resist a retort. "And we're not used to being threatened so openly." Two could play this game.

"I'm not threatening you."

"Yes, you are." You weren't going to back down, either. Rowena had taught you well. Alone, you would have cowered, maybe ran away, but with her there, you had nothing to fear. She wouldn't let anything happen to you. She wouldn't let a stranger — an ungrateful hunter — lay a finger on you. "Leave us alone."

He held up his hands, a feigned surrender. "I'm not doing anything to you. I just want you to stop using magic around me."

Looking him straight in the eyes, you held out a hand to your side and exclaimed, "Liber!" The book — a random paperback — flew perfectly into your palm. Not taking your eyes off the man, you laid it on the others in your lap. Does this bother you? your gaze said. Challenged. Dared. Does it make you uncomfortable?

It apparently did for he shifted his feet awkwardly and took a large breath. "Please, don't do that. I don't want you any harm. I just don't want to be around magic."

"You're the one who approached us," you pointed out.

A gulp. "Like I said, in my world—"

Rowena cut him off. "Shall we find you a way to go back?"

He stared, baffled. "What?"

"You seem to miss your world. Would you like us to help you go back?"

"Wha-that's not what I'm saying!"

"Witches fear you in your world, do they not? Isn't that what you want?"

"I don't… that's not what this is about. I don't want you to fear me!" The tone of his voice, his demeanor, the flicker in his eyes said otherwise. "Just stop using magic! How hard is that?"

"You didn't mind our magic when it kept the rift open for you and your people to come here," you said. "Maybe we should've let it close and left you in that war-torn shithole."

A vein on his forehead popped, face flushing an angry red. "I didn't ask for your help!"

"Why'd you come here, then? You could've stayed home. No magic there."

"You don't know what it's like to see everything you've ever known destroyed. The people you grew up with dead. Your home shattered to pieces."

"Sounds horrible." It truly did. "Seems you're better off here. With witches."

"I'm not used to your kind."

"Get used to us, then."

"Your kind is unnatural." He spat it as if it were filth.

There we go. "So you do have a problem with witches." Surprise, surprise.

"I don't want you here," he said. As if his opinion held weight. As if he had any say in the matter.

You couldn't hold back a laugh. "Sam and Dean are our friends." Acquaintances? Allies? Who was counting anymore? "We've been here long before you. If that bothers you, why don't you leave? You're living here for free. You're wearing Sam and Dean's clothes and eating their food. You don't get to make any demands."

"Who are you to talk to me like that?" he spat. "You're just a witch!"

"And you're an ungrateful bastard!"

"Watch your mouth!"

"Or what?" Rowena said. "What are you going to do, boy?"

The hunter leaned in as if to whisper a secret. "Sam and Dean won't always be around."

"That's right," Rowena told him, looking him straight in the eyes. Making her own threat clear. "They won't."

He laughed. "You're pretty feisty for a witch. Knew a few of them just like you. At the end, they were all begging for mercy."

"I don't beg."

"Yet."

"Leave us alone!" you shouted, purposely loud, having had enough of this. You'd agreed to stay on Sam's behest, but you'd never signed up to be harassed. You weren't going to let some lowly hunter threaten you.

All the chatter in the Bunker instantly stopped. Heads turned your way. Eyes observed you, curious, confused. The hunter froze at the sudden attention, caught off guard.

"Is everything okay?" Sam asked, walking over.

"This guy's threatening us," you said.

"What?" He eyed the hunter, who put his hands up.

"She's lying."

"She is not," Rowena said. "This nit won't leave us be."

"Is that true?" Sam asked him.

The hunter sighed. "They were using magic. I just told them to knock it off."

"We were just having fun," you said.

"And I told you I don't want you to use magic around me!"

"It was a simple bloody spell to pick up books!" Rowena snapped. "We weren't hexing anyone!"

Sam looked from the two of you over to him. "What's the problem?"

"The problem is, they're witches!" the hunter said. "How can you let them into your house?"

"They're friends," Sam said defensively.

"They're witches." His face twisted with disgust. "And they were using magic. Doesn't that bother you?"

"No. They weren't doing anything wrong."

"Their entire existence is wrong."

"Fuck you!" you spat.

"Okay," Sam said, holding up his hands. "Okay, let's all calm down."

It was easy for him to say. He wasn't the one being insulted.

"I want them gone," the hunter said.

Sam turned to him. "They're not going anywhere. Like I said, they're friends, and we need them."

"I don't need them."

"That's fine, but this is Dean and I's home. They're welcome here." He pointed up the stairs. "If you don't like it, there's the door."

Warmth swelled in your chest. Rowena smirked victoriously.

The hunter was flabbergasted. "Are you seriously siding with witches over a hunter?"

"Yeah," Sam said without a flicker of a doubt. "I am. They've helped us a lot. If it weren't for them, the rift would have closed and none of us would be here right now. I understand your reservations, but they're not bad people."

"You're crazy! This world is crazy!" Sam shrugged. The hunter rolled his eyes. "Suit yourself. I'm not hanging around witches."

He slid up the stairs and slammed the door on his way out so hard the walls shook. You sighed in relief. Good riddance.

"What was that all about?" Dean asked, emerging from the kitchen with a sandwich in his hands.

"One of the other world guys didn't like our rules," Sam said.

"Sucks to be him," Dean commented, took a bite out of his sandwich, and went back to the kitchen.

"You guys okay?" Sam asked.

"Aye," Rowena said. "A wee hunter doesn't scare us."

"Sorry about that. Most of the guys are really nice. I swear, this won't happen again."

You sure hoped so.

"Don't worry about us, Samuel. We're big girls."

You nodded, though it felt nice to know the Winchesters — for once in your life— were completely on your side.

"You're always welcome here," he said.

"We know," Rowena said. "Do you happen to have any more of that scotch from last night?"

Sam laughed. "Sure. I'll get you some."

"It would be much appreciated."

You quirked up an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

She shrugged. "That nincompoop exhausted me. I need a drink."

You supposed that was fair. Maybe you could snag a glass as well.

And, hopefully, you could head home soon.

As welcoming as the Winchesters were, there was no place like home.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie​ @oswinthestrange​ @songofthecagedmoose​ @apurdyfulmind​ @getthesalt-sam​ @metallihca​ @salembitchtrials @jay-eris​ @hellsmother​ @elizabeth-effie​ @shadowgirl-vsb​ @rowenaswife​ @wonderifshelikesroses​ @xfireandsin​ @liddell-alien​ @hotdiggitydammit​ @lae-lae​ @darkhumorsblog​ @angel7376​ @cherrypierowena​ @evil-regal-vampiress​ @collectorofsecretsandsouls​ @angel-e-v-a​ @a-queen-and-her-throne​ @carryon-doctor-lock​ @fangirlxwritesx67​ @rowenaslilwitch​ @midnight-lestrange​

[orihara-infobroker]

Seclusion Day Eight

“Izaya, what on earth…?” Shiki asked as he re-entered the apartment with an armful of packages.

Izaya practically bounded over the couch to take the packages from him. “Oooo packages. Exciting!” He replied as he carried them to the coffee table. 

“Did you go on an Amazon shopping spree?” 

“Maybe.” Izaya sorted through the packages, setting one larger box aside. “That should be your new laptop. I’ll set it up for you later.”

Shiki moved beside Izaya, sliding a hand in the pocket of the raven’s slacks to retrieve his pocket knife. “And the rest?”

Izaya grinned and grabbed one at random. “I’m not sure. I may have just added a bunch of stuff to my shopping cart. I don’t think this is everything, either.”

Shiki eyed the pile, arching a brow. “So impulsive.” He sat beside the raven, reaching for the boxed laptop and cutting it open as Izaya opened his first package. He pulled out several pairs of what looked to be underwear with a smirk. “You couldn’t run back to your place? Or do some laundry?” 

“These are the fun kind.” Izaya held up one pair to reveal how little there was to them. Shiki gave him a considering look.

“Model them?” 

Izaya smirked. “After I sort my mail.” He reached for another package as Shiki returned his focus to unboxing the laptop and various accessories that Izaya appeared to have ordered with it.

“This is a lot more than a laptop, Izaya.”

“If you’re going to work from home, you should have a proper set up for your office,” Izaya replied with a sniff. “You’ll see. Once I set it all up for you, you’ll appreciate it.” He emptied the next package onto the table, scattering an assortment of cat toys across it. 

“Ah yes, it wouldn’t be a proper shopping spree if you didn’t spoil your cat too.” Shiki set aside the laptop to sort through the toys, finding a box of silvervine sticks. As soon as he opened the package, Tsuki appeared from whatever spot he had found to hide in. Four days of roaming Shiki’s apartment had made him less skittish. Shiki held out the stick and Tsuki immediately began to lick at it and paw at the executive’s hand. Shiki relinquished it, watching Tsuki flop under the table and continue licking and chewing vigorously. 

Izaya had moved on to another box while he played with the cat, eyes lighting up as he pulled back the flaps. Shiki smiled at Izaya’s reaction, turning his gaze to the contents. “I thought these wouldn’t come in until next week.” He began to pull books out of the box, stacking them on the table. Shiki counted twelve by the time he was done.

“I think you have a problem.”

“I’ve seen your bookshelves. You can’t judge.”

“I don’t usually buy this many at once.”

“Usually?” Izaya accused him with a smirk. Shiki smirked back, shrugging. He examined the pile then immediately liberated one of the books, intrigued. 

“I didn’t know you liked historical fiction.” Izaya attempted to reclaim the book but Shiki held it away from the raven.

“It sounded interesting,” Izaya replied evasively. “I picked up Yokoyama’s new book.”

Shiki ignored Izaya’s obvious attempt at distracting him. “I suppose with your love of mythology, historical fiction wouldn’t be too far of a stretch. This one looks interesting. Set in Ireland? I don’t know much about Irish history…” 

Which was, of course, more than enough to get Izaya talking. “This series takes place very early in Irish history. It’s almost more mythology than history in some ways. The author really weaves together the Irish folk tales with their actual history. They talk about the faeries, like Celty, except in Irish mythology, they weren’t always called faeries. They were believed to be an entirely separate race of people called the Tuatha de Danaan… I might be mispronouncing it. Gaelic is weird. Did you know that we’ve all been pronouncing Celty’s name wrong?”

Shiki frowned. “What do you mean?” He didn’t like the idea that he had been mispronouncing the courier’s name all this time. That would be very rude and he would need to apologize the next time he met with her.

“Well in Gaelic the letter ‘c’ has a hard sound but we’ve all been saying it with an ‘s’ sound. I asked her about it and she told me that Shingen suggested it years ago since she couldn’t remember her own name. So because Shingen didn’t know how to pronounce it properly and Celty didn’t care, we’ve all been saying it with an ‘s’ instead of a ‘k’ sound.”

“I see. So Celty is fine with it being said that way?”

“Yes. She accepted the pronunciation as Shingen suggested it.”

Shiki gave a thoughtful hum, cracking open the book. “Will it be particularly difficult to read, then?”

“The first book in the series wasn’t bad. It’s an English writer so the only thing I’m not sure on is the Irish names sometimes.”

“Do you have the first book?”

“I might have brought it with me. If not I can go get it from the apartment.” 

Shiki handed back the book. “I’ll give it a try.” 

Izaya grinned. “I didn’t think you liked historical fiction, either.” 

Shiki smiled. “You didn’t know I liked watching cooking shows either.” 

Izaya wrinkled his nose in irritation as he turned back to the packages. “Always full of surprises.” Shiki chuckled and picked a random package, dropping it in Izaya’s lap. Izaya read the label then grinned and handed it back to Shiki. “This one is for you. Perfect outfits for our movie marathons.”

Shiki gave Izaya a suspicious look as he opened the package. Izaya checked the other packages, pulling out another similarly sized one and opening it as well. Shiki pulled out the orange and black fabric, revealing a tiger kigurumi. “Really?” He gave Izaya an unimpressed look.

Izaya pulled out a black cat kigurumi and held it up with a grin. “Give it a chance. They’re really comfy and you’ll look adorable…”

“Yes, because that’s what I aspire to. Looking adorable.”

“Pleeeeeease, Haruya?” Izaya pleaded and Shiki sighed.

“You’re such a kid.”

“Lots of adults wear kigurumi.”

“Sounds questionable.”

“Just once? For me?”

“Just once.” 

Izaya beamed at Shiki’s grudging acceptance. “Don’t worry, I got one for Akabaka too.” That brought a hint of a smirk to Shiki’s lips. With Izaya’s particular sense of humour, who knows what he might have picked out for Akabayashi. That alone made it worthwhile.

“You going to be wearing your new sexy underwear too?”

Izaya gave Shiki a smirk. “Of course.”

Later that evening, Izaya was curled up on Shiki’s lap, waiting for Akabayashi to join them. He hadn’t been bothered at all by Izaya’s declaration that they wear kigurumi for their movie watching. He’d just given Izaya an amused look and taken the package into the washroom to change. 

“I have to say I’m a bit disappointed in your choice, Izaya,” Akabayashi announced as he entered the living room in his lobster kigurumi. “First of all, it’s not a crab. Second of all, it’s kind of predictable. Not that I don’t like it but I was expecting something insulting like a pink unicorn.”

Shiki snorted at the sight of Akabayashi in a lobster kigurumi.

“Well, I couldn’t find a crab one.” Izaya sniffed disdainfully. “And the point of this was not to be insulting. It was for fun.”

Akabayashi grinned as he settled on the couch. “I thought your idea of fun was finding ways to insult people.”

“Not all the time.” Izaya pulled out his phone. “Selfie time!” Shiki groaned while Akabayashi leaned in. 

“I did not agree to pictures.” Shiki protested but Izaya was already snapping the photos. 

“That you agreed to this at all is amazing,” Akabayashi teased.

“He was very reluctant,” Izaya informed Akabayashi. “Now what movie are we on?”

[cath-with-a-c]

This is the comment I woke up to on Friday morning. The amount of bigotry hiding behind the almost polite and seemingly thoughtful wording is astonishing. 

I’ve responded to it already, informing the individual behind it that I won’t be discussing the points of the comment with them, as they’ve resorted to personally attacking me, which is...dumb. I mean, attack my work all you like, it either helps me grow as an author by learning from my mistakes or as a person by growing a spine and defending my work. But coming after someone who has no connection to this and can’t defend themselves because they are no longer with us? Low and disgusting. (Also wow, they’ve taken the time to find the only truly personal post I have on tumblr, and it’s more than a month old, what a commitment to come off as pathetic, really)

Anyway, while talking to that particular individual is out of question, I still kinda wanna address the certain things in the comment because wow, my first queerphobic comment and an excuse to talk more about “Nothing and Everything”, my boys and myself? How can I pass that?

(this is like... a long-ass one... prepare yourselves)

(I’m gonna refer to the commentator as “Fox” and, probably, “them” because well, I don’t know what their preferred pronounce are)

NB! I’m using the term “queer” as an umbrella term to mean everyone who isn’t strictly straight and/or cis-gender.

Let’s start from the top

1.

The best part about slashfic writers is that when they write about child abuse, child sex abuse, and drug and alcohol abuse while including gay characters, is that they’re really writing about the lives of gay men without realizing it. To you, gay men being abused and that being the arbiter of their homosexual identity is too homophobic to fathom. But you still confirm it in subtle ways, and that always brings a smile to my face. 

Now, English isn’t my first language, so I might be missing something, but If Fox meant being the arbiter of as in defining, being the reason for, than no, it’s not homophobic. It’s just dumb. One, there isn’t a single relevant scientifically accurate study on the abuse causing someone to “turn gay”. Two - there might be a correlation (and it’s not necessary there, I’m just guessing), but the cause and effect will be the other way around, queer kids get abused more because they are queer, not become queer as the result of the abuse. And, most importantly, three - in terms of sexual orientation, you can’t turn someone queer, as well as you can’t turn someone straight. It’s something you are born with and discover as you go along. 

And also the other two queer characters, Rob and Penny, weren’t abused by their parents and/or other family members, but we will touch on that later. 

2.

“The Brotherhood had no problem with homosexuality” - Of course not, and neither do the Templars. It’s the Current Year. You can marry/have sex with whomever you want, whatever you want, whenever you want.

Ignoring the fact that this was taken out of context, and the whole phrase has a slightly different meaning, there are two things that are factually wrong with this statement. First - even in the Current Year, there is a ton of places where being openly queer is dangerous, from the countries that have “anti-gay” laws (ranging from “you can be gay, but stay quiet or go to jail” to “die a horrible death for being gay”), to certain, let’s say, traditionally oriented places in the US. Second - this is not Current Year. The bulk of the story takes place between 1998 and 2003, this phrase is taken from the chapter taking place in 2003, 16 years prior, things were, let’s say, slightly different.

Also, I don’t understand why Fox tried to make this sound sarcastic, we are talking about two societies, with one canonically being for freedom and choice and the other one relying on public favor to propel their agenda, of course, none of them will have qualms with the GRSM community, 

3.

“Honorary gay parents of a gay kid” - Well no wonder the kid is gay. Look at the environment xe/xim/xer grew up in.

I like how Fox uses the non-binary pronounces referring to Penny, when the only thing that has been said about her/them is “I’m into girls.” Also out of 16 kids on the Farm, only 3 are confirmed to be queer. They’ve all grown up in the same environment, so that statement is... meaningless. And in case Fox was referring to Rob and Des turning Penny “gay” well, they’ve also been close with Sam and he’s - what a shock - straight! So again - meaningless.

I’m gonna skip Fox shitting on my friend’s art, again - such remarks are low, pathetic and not worth discussing, let’s get to the juicy stuff. 

4.

It’s amusing, no, to have a pansexual – an individual who is attracted to ‘all genders’ - writing about gay men so much? How many genders are there? Thousands? 51? All on the spectrum? Regardless, tumblrinas are as big on their sexual identities as they are on their activism. In this case, we have a person – presumably female – getting wet over two dudes banging. I’m simply wondering if they packed enough lube and had their enemas. Maybe it was hidden in their stash?

Well, as a matter of fact - they didn’t have lube in their stashes because the only way to get it was to essentially ask one of the adults going to the city to get it for them, can you imagine a 16yo asking something like that? Death from mortification would be the most likely outcome.

Seriously though, I write what I like about whom I like. The only thing it has to do with me being pansexual is that I have more confidence in writing non-straight characters and relationships because I know it’s fine, and my queerphobic background can’t silence me anymore. Also - Desmond isn’t gay, he is bisexual. Rob is gay, true. 

The amount of genders is still up for debate, in my personal opinion it’s all on the spectrum, and the only reason gender issues don’t come out in fiction as much as sexual orientations do is that gender in a lot of cases is a more personal thing than orientation, that’ll inevitably reflect on the inter-character dynamics. A lot of genderqueer people are fine with using male or female pronounces, which to an outsider would put them in respective categories. There are, of course, androgynous people, trans people, non-binary people and others for whom gender and the perception of their gender are important in day to day life - and there are more and more stories featuring them.

Also, on the note of pansexuality - it’s not “attraction to all genders,” it’s having an attraction to the person regardless of their sex or gender, those labels play an insignificant part in me deciding to pursue a relationship. (Also also there might be like a ton of things to discuss in regards to how sexuality relates to gender identities, but not here, not now)

And yes, I’m afab, so yeah, “female” and I do “get wet over the two dudes banging”. Fox got me. Now what? Shame Fox seemingly can’t conceptualize that I “get wet” because I wrote those boys in a story that contains a hard emotional journey full of heartbreak, and I do revel in the short happy moments they’ve got together. The sexual/sensual part is hot because it’s those particular two guys, not just random two guys. 

Oh, and the last thing here - I don’t know if it’s news for Fox, but not all people in a homosexual relationship engage in anal sex. Especially teens in their first relationship. Just saying.

Let’s skip another personal attack part, here we go, sorry that the phrase is broken up

5.

she educated a pansexual SJW into confirming every negative and dirty secret in the gay community: a brutal, abusive father, societal ‘homophobia’, drug and alcohol abuse, and feeling inadequate compared to heterosexual people.

Tbh, this is the part of the comment that had me confused for a moment, as I mistook Fox for one of the “hardcore gay” people, that think that with letters added to LGBT and by putting everything on the spectrum we somehow affect negatively the “real” gay community. The next paragraph cleared this shit for me tho.

Right off the bat - SJW isn’t a dirty word, Fox shouldn’t try to sell it as one. And I won’t label myself as a SJW, because as of now, I lack the commitment to the cause. 

For the next part, I’d really, really like to quote a line from one of my fav vines “Bitch, where?” but for the sake of politeness, I’ll go with “Citation needed,” because from all of the things mentioned, the only one that is really prominent in the text is the “brutal, abusive father”. Societal homophobia isn’t exactly in the text (pay attention, teen Rob is cautious about adults being homophobic, it’s a valid fear a lot of queer teens have prior to coming out, but the general atmosphere isn’t homophobic. If I wanted it to be, adding a scene of public shame/shunning for someone caught in the act wouldn’t be hard), no drug and\or alcohol abuse (1 scene of teens trying drinks for the first time doesn’t count - surprise, teenagers try drinking), and feeling inadequate is mentioned once as a fear of a nine-year-old Penny, who has no frame of reference other than heterosexual behavior of the others, and is corrected almost immediately by Rob.

6.

Was this about Assassin’s Creed? No, not really. Despite you being a HUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE fan, you don’t really respect these characters. Miles is a douchebag, it’s true, but he’s respected even by Otso Berg. That should tell you something. 

(I’d like to see an example of Fox-approved, really-about-Assassin’s-Creed fanfiction, for a future reference, but alas, they’ve commented from as guest)

Interesting how me not liking or respecting Bill, canonically abusive douchebag known for alienating people because of how cold and manipulative he is, translates into me automatically not respecting every other character in the series. 

Also, I don’t see how Otso Berg respecting William as an opponent should sway my judgment. I’ve mentioned here on my blog that I like Garnier de Naplouse as a villain - how self-assured he is, and how much quiet intelligence he has. Do I like him in general as a person? No. Do I respect him? No. He tortured people. I relished in seeing Altair murder him. 

With Bill, him being a douchebag and abuser is a deciding fact for me, I do not respect abusers, no matter how great they may be. But tbh, on the leadership front, I can’t quite decide if Bill is a fine leader given the circumstances, or if the number of instances of him being canonically shitty as a leader is big enough to call for his removal. 

7.

You crafted him into a predictable homophobic dad, albeit he isn’t Christian. I was waiting for the Bible to be thrown at Desmond.

Again - citation needed. One instance in the text of Bill being homophobic. Not abusive, not overly-demanding, but homophobic. 

(Spoiler alert - there isn’t one.)

As for the Christian associations - well, it’s in the tags. Literally. In this story, the Brotherhood is a cult, like the JWs, or the LDS church, but with Creed instead of a holy book. And I guess I succeeded in conveying the feeling.

8.

In another Tumblr post, you wrote about how William is very abusive to Desmond, and how that is inexcusable. You bring up Nikolai and putting his child out in the cold as punishment, and earlier, cited Philosophy Tube in regards to solitary confinement (which really shows a lot). How do you explore this concept?

I wonder what me citing Philosophy Tube shows, except for maybe that I find Olly to be a very pleasant narrator and that the themes he touches on are rather interesting (Olly is precious, protect Olly).

I think I was rather unsubtle with showing what exactly abuse, inflicted by Bill, did to Desmond. And not, not “turn him gay”, about that in a moment. I don’t delve like deep into what was happening in Desmond’s head because this story is from Rob’s perspective. Not Desmond’s.

This story isn’t about the relationship between Bill and Desmond. It’s about Desmond not living in a vacuum all those years on the Farm.

Write William being SO abusive he turns his son gay. You make him so homophobic Desmond reacts by engaging in self-destructive behaviour and, in turn, becoming your average gay man. Your OC, Richard, Robert is merely the bridge.

“Bitch where?!“ (c) 

1. Desmond isn’t gay. He is bi (because I’m keeping it as close to the canon as I can and I love Elijah to death). It’s in the tags, and it’s in the tags rather than stated because Desmond’s sexual orientation isn’t the point of this story, 2. Bill isn’t homophobic, at least not openly. There’s a different issue within the Brotherhood, the fact that they expect everyone born into the Brotherhood to have kids of their own. This is the source of Rob’s unease and perceiving adults as not reacting positively him or any other kid in a queer relationship.  3. If I wanted Bill to come off as homophobic, I’d portray him like that. Using slurs, for example.  4. Bill abuses Desmond not because he thinks his son is gay - he thinks his son is weak. In general. Not related to orientation. Like in the fucking canon. I’m merely turning the abuse factor up to eleven. 5. No one abused Rob, his father is shown in the text to be one of the best parents on the Farm - and Rob is gay. No one abused Penny, her family is mentioned briefly, but I specifically did it in a way that shows that they are nice - and she is a lesbian. Another boy, Colin, got abused by his strict mother - and he is straight. Desmond got abused by his father - and he is bi. There is no correlation between abuse and being queer.  6. Desmond's self-destructive behavior came from him being abused on a daily basis for most of his life and having no way out. Again, if it was linked to his orientation Rob would do that stuff too. He doesn’t.

9.

You make these characters gay because, as a ‘queer pansexual person’ you can. But you don’t really make them human. In fact, every single negative stereotype you want to protect yourselves from our oh-so-bigoted society are confirming them, while simultaneously denying that they exist.

In short, everything and everyone acted the way I expected to, and was written the way I expected a queer pansexual to write them: meaningless, with only the sexual identity taking place. Funny how that’s the only identity politics that’s allowed. Everything else is oh so bigoted.

I’m not denying the existence of the stereotype, I’m just not acknowledging it as valid, because it’s not. It’s like blaming violence on video games - you’d be hard-pressed to find a youngster who doesn’t play a semi-violent game of some kind, with blood and murder, but every time someone brings up that another shooter was playing those games, they forget to mention how many youngsters play and don’t commit murder as a result.

The same way Fox keeps bringing up the “abuse turned Desmond gay” without acknowledging that there’s a ton of straight teens that get abused worse than Desmond in this story, or the two queer kids right in the text who weren’t abused.

It’s also funny that Fox is adamantly holding to the “sexual identity” thing, despite the fact that it came up only in 5th chapter (with 4 chapters before that having nothing to do with sexual orientation) and it’s not even an identity/orientation thing. It’s the “relationship between Rob and Desmond” thing and “Desmond is clinging to as much happiness as he can because he has none” thing. The only time orientation comes up in term of identity it’s when Rob talks to Penny and thinks of himself as a closeted gay man, but it immediately switches back into the “relationship between two people” again. 

10.

You call yourself an AC fan? 

Yes. Yes, I do. Ain’t nothing some bigot on the internet can do about it ;)

(If you read this through to the end, I applaud you, thank you for your time <3)

[one-true-houselight]

It’s me, doing stand up!

I cut out the spelling of my name for privacy reasons. Also, the bit that’s cut off the the end is just me saying that I never went skiing again, and that now I just do safe things, like trying to enter the adult job market. 

Transcript under the cut, and if you are so inclined, my Ko-Fi is in my bio. Thanks!

Hello everyone, I am Erika, and tonight I will be performing All Star by Smash Mouth.

I’m kidding, no one would want to hear that. I cannot sing.

(from the crowd: I would!)

(laughter) You don’t want to hear me sing, I promise you.

Alright! Hi! In actuality, I am Erika (last name, pronounced ko-kek), and you’re like ‘ooh, we get a last name now, a mystery, and you’re like it’s an interesting last name too!’ That’s probably because you’ve never seen it spelled out. Let me walk you through my last name (ko-kek), alright, are you ready for this, are you ready: [redacted spelling]. Yeah! Four Ks! That’s a lot of Ks, and they’re in a real strange order. If you- if you noticed, uh, it’s the same set of four letters twice, it’s [redacted spelling] but you may have also noticed that’s not how it’s pronounced! Cuz you know, that would make sense. This is apparently from, like, changes in immigration, that you know happen, which, this is according to my uncle. But my grandfather, who lived in the Netherlands in the 40s (yeah, those 40s), pronounces it like Ko-Kek, so I’m inclined to believe him.

Now, having a weird last name in school is always kind of a crazy existence, though I will say, most of the time when people are like ‘oh, that’s a weird last name’, it’s because people are racist, or at the very least are being like  ‘oh, I’m gonna put Western Expectations on things that shouldn’t have them’, but as you see, my last name, is Dutch, as I mentioned, and Dutch white people, which I am one of, have done some incredibly awful things, so I don’t feel bad mocking it. So we continue on. So, this, so with my last name in roll call, we could change my last name to [silence] and it would sound the same. Let me, let me walk you through…Let me walk you through a roll call, so like the teacher’s up here, and they’re like ‘Alright, let’s see…we have Ferris Beuller? Oh you showed up, very good, alright. Harry Potter? Oh, you didn’t die, that’s fantastic. And then, Erika…[long silence]. And I’m just over here like ‘oh yeah that’s me, hi.’ Now sometimes, I like to speed it up, and rather than say here or present or anything, I’ll just say my last name (Ko-kek) to like, speed up the conversation so it’s not like, uh, Erika, long pause, here, oh, how do you pronounce that?, Ko-kek, it just speeds up the process. So, I’ll go, they’ll go Erika… and I’ll say (Ko-kek). The problem is they’ll get confused sometimes. They’ll look at me and they’ll go ‘Oh, is that here in Dutch?’ No. But you did your best.

And not only does my last name have enough Ks to stop a substitute teacher dead in their tracks, my first name? Erika? Also with a K. My sibling is Kat with a K, my mother is Karolyn with a K, though that’s not her fault, she kind of like, came into it and was like ‘oh, I guess this works out’. And my father…is Doug. But, but, he has a middle name that’s very strange and has a K in it so it all works out, it’s fine. So, if you’re ever like reading something, and you’re looking at it and you’re like ‘huh, there should be a K in this word’, it probably wasn’t a typo, my family just needed to name another child and just like, stole it.

So, I do have to say I’m Erika with a K a lot, because most people will assume it’s with a C. Or, more recently, two Ks. Which is kind of fun, but it’s also at the same time like ‘I’m drowning in Ks, please don’t give me more!’ But no, so I say Erika with a K a lot, which means I realized something really really cool. That rhymes with Erika with a They! These are the puns the queer community was built upon.

I do use they/them pronouns, and I even wear a little tag for it, it’s right here, it’s very nice. Um, and, it’s just kind of weird sometimes, because people will sometimes not use my pronouns, which kinda makes me sad. But I’ve realized something. I was just assuming they were reading the tag and just being rude about it. But recently, I’ve realized that they’re just not reading the tag. The way I’ve realized this is I’ll be like, walking through Target, and someone will be, like, looking around, and they’ll see me and they’ll see the tag and go ‘A ha! A worker!’ And they’ll be like ‘Do you know where the towels are?’ And this is very strange for me, mostly because I know where the towels are. So I’ll go ‘Ok, they’re over there in that corner, but I don’t work here, please.’ And, and they’re like ‘Oh, I just assumed you did because of your name tag.’ Now there’s a couple of problems with that. My ‘name tag’, as they put it, doesn’t have a name on it, which means they clearly didn’t read it. The other big problem with it is that most stores or places of business have a sense of decorum, or at least consistency in their design. My tag, on the other hand, while I love it very much, how do I put this, it doesn’t look good. It looks like if an eight year old magpie with attention issues made it at summer camp. This is basically how the making of my tag went: I’m was just sitting there and I’m like ‘Alright, I’m gonna put five shiny things on it. Wonderful, wonderful, this random piece of gaff tape? That has to go on, that’s, like, that’s key to the whole pronoun tag process. Now, for the words. And I start writing, I’m like ‘they/them and-’ oh my god. What if I could fit more shiny things on it? I’m still writing, I don’t know what I’m writing at this point, it doesn’t look good. Oh, I could put more shiny things on it, maybe I could like, steal a rock and somehow affix that to it…And then I look down and I’m like ‘oh, I finished the words, guess I’m gonna just put it on my shirt!’ And it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine. So, a lot of people don’t read the tag, but a lot of people do, and I have a lot of wonderful friends and family who support me very much.

Though, being openly trans can be, can get a little confusing sometimes. Sometimes I’ll tell stories about being in the Girl Scouts, and be like ‘Ha, that’s funny for obvious reasons!’ and people will be like, ‘oh, it’s the girl thing!’, and I’ll be like ‘no!’. Because the Girl Scouts are actually super cool about trans girls and non binary kids, which we appreciate very much, especially because it gives us a very good reason to buy Girl Scout cookies, beyond just buying something to fill the hole in your heart.

Crowd: support the gays!

Exactly! But no, the weird part about it for me is the scout part. Let me tell you a story. So one time when I was sixteen years old, I was a camp counselor for a bunch of small children, and we went to a playground one time. So I’m wandering around, like you do, like making sure the children don’t like, die, and I see two girls sitting under a tree, and they’re doing the whole, like,  ‘rub two sticks together to start a fire’ thing. So I go ‘I’m gonna wander over and see how they’re doing’, and I’m like ‘How’re you doing, kids?’ And they look at me and they’re like ‘Erika? Why do you rub two sticks together to start a fire?’ and I’m like ‘Well, that’s a very interesting question, so you see, there’s a fire triangle, and the fire triangle has heat, fuel, and oxygen, and you have to have all three because fire is just adding oxygen-‘ And I just go on this like, five minute tangent about, like, talking about the science of fire, and you’re probably sitting there thinking like. Erika, explaining how fire works is like, the most scout thing you can do, and normally I would agree with you. Except. I talked for five minutes about the ins and outs of fire science, and neglected to mention fire safety. So I realize this, and I’m like ‘oh no, I’m going to start a wildfire by proxy’, so I just start yelling fire safety tips with absolutely no context. So I’m like, ‘You need a bucket of sand!’, I didn’t tell them why they needed the sand, I just said you needed one, and I’m like ‘build a circle of rocks on the ground!’, and they’re just gonna do that and go ‘I can build fires for the rest of my life, perfect!’ And then I’m sitting there, so like, another counselor is walking behind me like ‘two minutes left’, I’m like ‘Oh no, I have two minutes to like, save my entire town’, and I’m like ‘You should probably have an adult present’, and then I realize I probably should have mentioned that first, and I was like, ‘alright, just imagine I said adult present first, and just, and then put everything else, remember everything else, but remember adult first, it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine.’ So, luckily, my town has not had any reports of wildfires. But suffice it to say, I am not exactly scout material.

I am going to finish out the night by telling you a story from my scouting days. I was about eight years old, and we went on a ski trip. Now, let me tell you a little thing about eight year old Erika. You may have noticed that up here as a 20 year old, I’m a little bit lanky, my limbs do weird things as I run about the stage like an excited golden retriever. But see, I’m like, at a controllable lanky now. When I was eight, I was just gangly. My limbs just changed like, lengths every day, sometimes by multiple feet. So I’d be like, walking along, and I’d like just, kick a doorway, or like I’d be sitting and raising my hand, you know how like, you sometimes hit your hand on your desk, and you did it like, once a month? I did it twice a day. And people would be like, ‘Erika why do you keep hitting your hand on the desk?’ and I’m like ‘Cause my hand wasn’t there before! It was over here, I don’t know what’s happening!’ It was like I was living in a world of cartoon physics that I didn’t have control over. So I’m just like, ‘I guess I’m walking and my arms over here now, great!’ So my scouting troop looked at this, and was like ‘you know I think would be a great idea to do to this tiny, eight year old, whatever this is? We’re gonna stick a piece of wood, long, skinny, really slippery piece of wood on each of their feet, and then we’re gonna push them down a mountain.’ So, uh, you can probably tell where this story is going.

So, we get to the mountain, and I have my skis, we had to like, wait in a really long line, and I’m like, ‘oh, I’m so excited to go skiing’. So I’m walking around and I’m like, ‘alright, this is very exciting’, I see there’s a ski lesson about to start, and I’m like ‘I should probably do that because I want to make sure I know what’s going on’, so if you’ve never been skiing before, here’s what a skiing lesson is. You have a large group of people that want to learn how to ski, and you have a very excited person ready to tell you about skiing. So, you all go with them, you walk sideways up the mountain because you know, whatever. And the person, the very enthusiastic person, tells you a lot of really good skiing tips, and I, an eight year old with undiagnosed ADHD, sat there, and uh, kind of cycled between looking at the person, watching their mouth move, and having my audio processing like, on the ski lift, OR, I would be watching them, and a skier would go by, and I would watch the skier and be like, ‘oh, maybe I can pick up some tips from the skier’, absolutely ignoring the person that’s just giving me the tips for free. So I did not pick up a lot of good ski tips, but I did pick up one, and this is, this is, I will always remember this. He was like ‘alright, if you’re going down the mountain, and you want to slow down or stop, you make a triangle with your skis.’ And so I was like ‘alright, I’ve got it. I make a triangle with my skis to go slow, great, fantastic.’ So then, I’m like, ‘alright. I know everything there is to know about skiing. It is time to get started.’

So the first time I fell a lot, which, you know, of course you fall a lot, it’s you first time, and like, who knows what skiing is. The second time I also fell a lot and you know, I’m still getting the hang of it. Third time, also fell a lot, but you know, it’s fine. I’m just going to like, skip to the end, because I fell most of the times. It was less of me skiing down the mountain, and more of me just falling over and over again until I reached the bottom. But then, the last run of the day, I’m like ‘alright, I’m gonna do this’, I get about three quarters of the way down the mountain and I haven’t fallen once. And I’m just sitting there like ‘oh my god, I’m the skiing master. Oh my god, I’m gonna go to the Olympics. It’s gonna be great.’ So I am, I’m going down the mountain and, if don���t know if you know this about physics, because I wasn’t stopping and starting by just falling down constantly, I actually picked up a little bit of speed, which was really nice. But at this point, I was going a little bit faster than I intended to go, and I was like, ‘Huh. I kind of want to slow down now’, so I go into the little card catalogue that is my mind and I’m like ‘a ha! Triangle equals slow! Perfect!’ So I, I look down at my skis because I want to make sure I’m doing it right,  and I’m like ‘alright, ready, here we go. Triangle.’ And nothing happened. Now the problem with this is, is that I was eight, and didn’t have critical thinking skills. So I looked at this situation, and I said, ‘huh. This triangle is not working. But it’s the only thing I know about skiing, and since I am a skiing master and know everything, this can be the only solution.’ So I double down on the triangle.

Now here’s the thing. I tell this story a lot, and one time I was telling it and I got to this part, and my friend looked at me and said the following: ‘You were doing the wrong kind of triangle!’ Which is a baffling thing to have yelled at you. So I was sitting there like ‘what are you ta- Was I doing an isosceles? Should I have been doing a scalene? Like, did you want me to yell the pythagorean theorem at it? I don’t know what you’re telling me!’ So she could not explain it, so we moved on. So then I told this story again, and another set of friends was like ‘Erika. She meant you had to do a triangle like this.’ And I was like, ‘oh, because that would actually stop the, oooooh.’ So now, twelve years after this story happened, I now know how to ski. So that’s cool, but back to me being eight years old.

At this point, I am going even faster than before, somehow, going much faster than any eight year old pile of limbs should ever be going, and I go ‘this is bad, I can no longer, uh, control which direction I’m going’, which is bad because I’m heading right for a circle of snowboarders. And so I’m I’m, I’m like, trying to turn and I can’t and I’m like ‘oh no’, so I just kind of look up at them, because I am approaching them at quite a speed, and I just start screaming, ‘HEY! YOU GOTTA MOVE! I CAN’T STEER!’ So they look up at just this banshee shriek from up the mountain, and they go, ‘huh. we should move,’ and they do, as well as they can, because they only have one piece of wood instead of the two that I was privileged to have. But they manage to make it out of the way, and I don’t hit anyone, and I continue down the mountain.

At this point, I literally, like, sit down on my skis and dig my hands into the snow in an attempt to stop myself, which works slightly better than the triangle, which isn’t saying much. So at this point, I have basically reached the bottom of the mountain, and I have reached, and at the bottom of the mountain there was a straight-away, and at the end of the straight-away there was a barrier of snow. Now the barrier of snow was about one, one and a half feet. The straight-away…I’m not really good with distances, but it was at least two feet, we’ll go with that. So I reach the straight-away, and I look up for this at least two foot distance. And I see this barrier of snow and I’m like ‘Ah. Here’s where my journey will come to an end.’

So I’m heading down this straight-away, I’m slowly slowing down, but I’m still going at quite a speed, and I’m like, ‘oh, it’ll be a little bit of an impact, but it’ll be fine.’ So here’s what happens. Here’s the barrier of snow, here’s me, here I go. Wheeeeee. And I hit the barrier of snow. And I go up and I go over it into the super secret special hill that they don’t show anyone, because it’s covered in bushes, and rocks, and leads to the parking lot.

So, at this point, I am now somersaulting down the hill, you know, fun times, and I’m grabbing bushes, I am desperately trying to like, not die, and at this point, I decide, I’m like ‘you know what would be a good, you know what would be good at this time? A flashback of my life.’ So my life flashes before my eyes, and it finishes I’m like ‘huh. That didn’t last as long as I thought it would.’ So I’m tumbling, and I’m just like ‘I’m gonna die! It’s fine!’ So I reach the bottom, and I kind of sit there and I take stock of everything, and I look around and I’m like, ‘Hey. I’m alive. I just wasted a life flashback, do you know how expensive that it?’ So I’m sitting there, and then I realize something. I realize that in my current state I cannot move because all of my limbs that change size all the time are tangled together. And I can’t get out of my limbs because my arm is so that like, I would have to hook it around my foot, but my foot is currently eight feet long because there’s a ski attached to it. So I’m-You know those like, Cracker Barrel things, the like, little metal puzzles that you play with for five minutes then give up because you want to play the peg game? I looked like one of those.

So I go into my mental autopsy, which you know, all eight year olds with anxiety have, and I go ‘we’re gonna just change the cause of death to…starvation.’ Which was very very silly, of course, because I would of died of thirst before I died of starvation. So I’m laying there, waiting for my eventual fate, and I look up into the parking lot I landed next to, and I see two guys walking towards me. And I go ‘huh. Interesting,’ and I go back to my mental autopsy, and I recross out starvation, and write ‘murdered in the snow, while tangled in my own limbs.’ So I’m just like, ‘there’s nothing I can do’, so I just kind of look at them, and they’re looking at me.

Luckily for me though, they were just coming over to help, because from their perspective, they had just seen a screaming ball of just, extremities, shoot over the barrier, tumble down a mountain, and then just lie there motionless for a while. So they walk over, and they’re very nice, they help me out of my skis, and they’re like ‘Do you, do you need to go into the lodge?’ and I’m like ‘Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.’ So I, so they walk me into the lodge and we find my mother who’s there, hello, hi mom, and, and she’s like ‘what happened?’ And I’m like ‘I don’t know.’

[richincolor]

Interview: Patrick Flores-Scott

Today we welcome Patrick Flores-Scott to the blog. He was kind enough to answer a few questions about his writing life and his newest novel, American Road Trip, which is making it's way out into the world today. I loved American Road Trip and reviewed it here last week.

Summary: A heartwrenching YA coming of age story about three siblings on a road trip in search of healing.

With a strong family, the best friend a guy could ask for, and a budding romance with the girl of his dreams, life shows promise for Teodoro “T” Avila. But he takes some hard hits the summer before senior year when his nearly perfect brother, Manny, returns from a tour in Iraq with a devastating case of PTSD. In a desperate effort to save Manny from himself and pull their family back together, T’s fiery sister, Xochitl, hoodwinks her brothers into a cathartic road trip.

Told through T’s honest voice, this is a candid exploration of mental illness, socioeconomic pressures, and the many inescapable highs and lows that come with growing up—including falling in love.

Have you had any memorable and/or life-changing road trips?

Definitely memorable. My parents drove us—me and my sisters—from our Seattle area home to Wisconsin for a reunion when we were all teenagers. Three hormonal teens squished in the back seat of a Ford Fairmont. Middle of Summer. Vinyl seats. No air conditioning. Two out of the three—mortal enemies. Seventeen hundred torturous miles. We camped the whole way. I definitely drew on that trip as I wrote the book.

I’ve actually been through all of the towns and most of the freeways and highways from American Road Trip. I taught in Los Angeles and would drive home to Seattle for the summer. And I also drove from L.A. to visit my sister and her family in El Paso, Texas a couple times.

I’d have to say that most of my road trips up and down the coast (including a trip to the Rose Bowl with friends in college) were as fast or faster than the trip in the book. It was always about getting there. I still feel that pace and those freeways in my bones. Although those experiences ended up being great for the writing, I’d love to do a slow, touristy version of a trip down the west coast with my wife and kids some day.

American Road Trip delves into the issues facing a family who is welcoming someone back after military service. Is this a situation you were familiar with or did it require a lot of research?

There are no vets in my family. I was inspired to start writing this story in 2009, after the housing bubble burst and the economy collapsed. I’m a big NPR listener and at that time there seemed to be so many stories about vets returning from Afghanistan and Iraq. Most of the stories focused on the difficulties of adjusting to civilian life and the tragedy of vet suicide and the treatment vets were receiving at the VA.

There was one story that really launched me into the book. It featured a mom reading a gut-wrenching letter her son wrote to her and his dad before he took his own life. I started researching and listening to all the stories I could. Early on I also was moved by this short movie, Poster Girl. It showed a young vet suffering from PTSD. The thing that got to me—besides watching her battle against the overwhelming demons that followed her back from war—was her support network. This small group of older vets took her in. They counseled her and accompanied her to VA appointments and really seemed to be keeping her alive. Those real-life vets inspired Tio Ed and “The Group” in American Road Trip.

There was a lot of digging through stories online and websites where vets would share their stories, often in search of support and camaraderie. Same with websites for families attempting to find resources to help them cope. I talked to vets and family members and with some folks who work at the VA. My father-in-law is a psychiatrist who has had a lot of experience working with vets so he was a big help as well. I worked on the book for a long time, but there were changes made, even at the last minute, because of feedback I received regarding vets and their care. It was important for me to get that aspect of the story right.

The portion of the experience Manny’s family went through when he came back from war that I connect to personally, is that of being a kid experiencing a family member dealing with mental illness. I feel that in my gut. Also, even though no one dies in the book, the threat of loss hangs over the story like a dark cloud. Much of the time I was writing the book, I was dealing with grief brought on by loss in my family.  So a lot of very real, very strong emotion collided with—and became entwined with—all the new information I was taking in about vets and their families.

I also brought to the writing a profound belief that sending a person to war—whether they go willingly, or not—is the biggest sacrifice you could ask an individual to make, and sending a loved one off to war is the biggest sacrifice you could ask a family to make. So as long as we’re a country that chooses to send people to war, we owe it to them and to our whole society, to meet them with an overwhelming amount of easily accessible care, from the time they return home, for as long as they require it.

I love that you focus on sibling relationships and even go way beyond the nuclear family. How did so many family members become part of this story?

Teodoro is the protagonist. But for some reason, from the very beginning I envisioned Xochitl, the sister, being the person who activates the road trip. She was always the one who believed that Manny—who returned from war unmoored and adrift—could find his bearings via a reconnection to long-lost family. That’s no cure for PTSD, but in the story those re-connections do lead to support that is meaningful for everyone.

Also, at one point, the book was going to be, in part, about the role repeated stories and lore play in unifying families. I made up Avila family stories and wrote them in this heightened style, my attempt at magical realism, and I spread them throughout the novel. Each time I wrote one, it seemed to expand the world of the Avila family. When it became clear that the stories were just too much and I had to nix them, some of the characters from those stories found their way back into the novel. Even some of the stories found their way back in, but in a style that fit the rest of the book.  

Xochitl was a new name for me, but I was happy to find someone online who made a video about her name. It is really beautiful in both sound and meaning. Do you know someone named Xochitl or was this just a random pick related to the family history and culture?

I had a student named Xochitl and I really loved that name. My wife, Emma, picked Xochitl for her confirmation name. You’re supposed to pick a Catholic saint’s name, but she went with Aztec instead. (I think it’s so cool that she did that.) It means ‘flower,’ which is sweet, but the written name looks so strong on the page. I wanted to Xochitl, the character to be STRONG. She needed a name that looked and sounded strong. You say, SOE-cheel. A teacher friend told me she had a student who gave up trying to get folks to pronounce it correctly, so she told everyone, “I am so chill.” Doesn’t quite have the same umph.

The book used to start with Xochitl coercing the guys into the car for the road trip and T describing his sister’s name, telling the reader the pronunciation and saying how that name that starts with an X looks as crazy as his sister is. It was fun writing but eventually it didn’t fit and I’m fine making the reader do a little work to find out how it’s pronounced.

Since writing the book, I came to learn that there is a singer-songwriter, Xochitl, out of Sacramento. She is great. Check her out on Youtube. And Xochitl Torres-Small is now running for Congress in New Mexico. Send her your support, people!

Xochitls are coming on strong. Very soon everyone will know exactly how to pronounce that name.

Change can be a challenge at any time in life even when it doesn't involve trauma. You've made a geographical move and a switch in careers recently. What have you learned about yourself through these shifts?

Wow. It’s been four years since I quit teaching and we moved to Ann Arbor for my wife’s job at the University of Michigan, and I’m still learning. I’ve learned that I need to get out and be social. I have a great and loving little family. But I need to reach out more often to the many people who have opened their arms to us since our move to Ann Arbor. I’ve learned that being a writer and stay-at-home dad seemed to really work for me when my youngest son was in preschool half day. Now that he’s in Kindergarten, it’s a long day and I get stir crazy and I’m feeling like I need to get back to a half day teaching job—mostly for social reasons (but also for added income until this writing thing takes off). I’ve learned that I really need a network of writing friends—and I’m SO LUCKY to have eventually found them here. Don’t tell the whole world, but Ann Arbor is a phenomenal town for connecting with writers.

Do you have a special connection to amazing green chile cheeseburgers?

My wife is from Las Cruces, New Mexico. We go down there with our boys twice a year. About ten years ago, my in-laws took my wife and me to the town of Hatch, and to Sparky’s restaurant, the barbecue and burgers place I write about in the book. That first Sparky’s cheeseburger is what started my addiction to green chile, and specifically, to green chile cheeseburgers. I recommend that everyone travel to New Mexico and eat their way through that state. Enchiladas, gorditas, green chile stew. The use of local chile, green and red, makes it a unique and transcendent regional dining experience. My mouth is watering as I write this. If anything, I undersold the glory of New Mexican green chile—and New Mexican cuisine—in the book. It’s amazing, but you have to go there to experience the real thing.

[radramblog]

Top ten digits

This is an idea I’ve had in my back pocket since back when I rated all the letters of the alphabet. That was a while ago, fuck! Back then I was in the mood for shitposting, but today, we’re all about perfectly serious legitimate analytical content.

Anyway we’re going to rate the numbers from zero to nine. As it turns out, this is a lot harder, because somehow numbers have even less personality than the letters of the alphabet, but I hope you can trust in my opinions.

Number 10: 8

I think I dislike the number eight for the same reason I dislike Thursdays. In that it’s completely arbitrary and I don’t actually know what sourced my dislike. Maybe it’s because it’s one of the harder times tables to memorize as a child. Maybe it’s because it’s really hard to get it to look nice with my shitty handwriting. I don’t really know, frankly.

But because 8 is infinity, it has to go as infinitely low on this list as possible. But also as infinitely high. Fortunately, though, this is my list and my rules, so I can contain it only to the bottom of the list.

Number 9: 6

6 is a number clearly filled with demon magic. Both the commonly accepted numbers of the beast have a plethora of sixes, it’s one half of the filthiest number imaginable, and it’s simply a massive pain in the ass to handwrite on labels since you have to distinguish it from 9 somehow.

As a result, I am required to put 6 low on the list to cater to the more conservative members of my audience. I think it’s best to adapt my content for any potential viewer, regardless of whether or not they align with my political or religious beliefs, and as such it’s best if 6 stays relatively low. Now any evangelicals can rest safe in the knowledge that I’m clearly not a Satanist- assuming, of course, they made it past my constant swearing.

Number 8: 0

0 is the void. It is a circular representation of nothing. A donut of the absence of value. This is perfectly okay.

However, the field of mathematics is determined to make this perfectly crafted null pointer have actual meaning. They put it before things, behind things, between things, and they do it the greatest disservice of all: putting a slash through it to distinguish it from an O. The nerve!

I am determined to make the oblivion bagel nothing again, such that it can reclaim its rightful place as the nadir digit. Nadigit. Until then, it will have to remain near the bottom of the list. And I will keep using fun words for “nothing”.

Number 7: 7

7 is associated with luck, which would be fine enough, if that particular facet of its existence weren’t marred by its further association with casinos. For the unaware, I despise casinos and generally just really don’t like gambling in general, and so those triple-7 slot machines bring the number itself under my most withering of gazes.

It’s also just a huge pain for maths. Like, I’m sure the list of prime numbers would be a lot nicer and cleaner if 7 didn’t exist and randomly poke holes in the thing. It’s a frustrating number that looks cool but makes things so much harder.

Number 6: 4

Much like with 6, I can’t put 4 too high for cultural reasons. Four Is Death due to a similarity in how the two words are pronounced in a fair few east Asian languages, and I don’t want to curse this list with that one. I distinctly remember the condo building I lived in some 14 (!!!) years ago having a floor 3A and a floor 13A specifically for this reason- which is interesting, because I know some other places also omitted 13 for its own associations. I don’t think they did 12A and 12B, I think they just skipped straight to 15.

Which is kind of a shame, because aside from that association it’s a pretty good digit. It has a couple of different common shapes that are equally valuable and distinct, it’s a great number for groups of people for both group dynamics and for playing video/board/tabletop games, and it has Good Math Synergy. But it’s not good enough for higher up on the list.

Number 5: 1

One is in the middle of the list because it is every number. It is the alpha to which we have no omega because numbers are weird. This means it carries every negative association of every single number, and yet also every other positive association at the same time. Does the weight of their blessings outweigh their sins? That will be a judgment I leave to you, dear reader.

Number 3a: 9

Nine is fun! Who doesn’t like nine. If eight’s the Thursday of numbers, nine’s the Friday. It’s the fun version that you like to have at parties. It’s the one you see a lot because it’s almost the next level up- like how things always sell for x dollars and 95 cents (or 99 cents if you’re in some weirdo country that still has pennies or local equivalent) or how people just use loads of them to communicate something being really big.

9 is as large as you can get within a single digit. And as an absolute unit myself, I feel a kinship with it.

Number 3: 2

Two is like one but only half the time, which is kind of ironic when you think about it. 2 is interesting, because its so fundamental to maths that it makes things very clean and easy, and yet not so fundamental as to be useless sometimes like with one. Who wants one of something? If two’s an option, fuck me up.

Two gets a lot of value from being where it is. It’s the first prime number (because people are monsters), it’s the first even number, it’s the first number that can actually do something when multiplied. All because it’s the second number. That’s big dick energy! Silver’s always been better than gold anyway.

Number 2: 5

5 is inherently advantaged as a result of our base-10 number system. That is, it’s half of everything which makes its maths really useful and also really clean. Adding 5s is only going to end you up with two ending digits, so it’s easy. You can multiply by 5 by just doing by 10 (which is obviously piss-easy) and halving it. 5 is fuckin easy mode, and I can respect that.

I think the entire reason we have 5 as so important is because we got 5 fingers. Like, surely, right? The reason everyone was like, yep, 10 sounds like a good baseline, is because that’s when they ran out of fingers to count on?

God why did I put this number here I don’t even remember I just like 5 let me have this one

Number 1: 3

There’s human psychology thing that I know I’ve seen from a reputable source but I cannot find now, where people just like number three for some reason. Give average John a list of random things from 1 to 4 and he’s probably picking three. Man, fuck average John, he’s an asshole.

I am the average John. He’s me.

[sairinnosekai-blog]

A quick revision.

i am just going to pretend someone is actually reading this and try to review what i have learned so far in order to summarize my humble knowledge ad learn better in the future.

i have already  been studying Japanese for a few months now so i am already finished with beginner level Japanese ( i am a beginner master L(*^*L( ) since a while ago and i have recently started to take intermediate level lessons.

in the beginning, just like any other language i started by memorizing letters and numbers which is not as easy as it sounds, there are three Japanese alphabets which are as the following:

hiragana: simplified Japanese letters. there are 46 hiragna characters.

katakana: mainly used to write foreign english words, or as otakus call it “engrisu” which means it might be written in japanese but it’s pronounced like english with slight changes (for example america = アメリカ). or the word computer which in japanese is pronounced computa~ there are 46 katakana characters.

      3. kanji: the devil of japanese whom everyone fear. there are thousands                   of kanji out there and some kanji have more than one pronunciation                     depending on the word. there are a bunch of kanji that are “commonly                 used” probably around a thousand or two and those are the kanjis you                 need to start with and what any japanese teacher will teach you first. i                 will take my time to explain kanji better in a later post. just keep in mind               that it may not be easy but it’s definitely not impossible to memorize kanji.

the numeric system on the other hand is really easy in japanese and it follows a set pattern that never changes.

after learning these things you start to get into grammar and you will also start building your vocabulary. beginner grammar is relatively easy because they mostly follow a formula. but that is not always the case once you get into more complex grammar, you will also start to learn how to conjugate verbs and adjectives and you will learn that one simple word can come in many forms. but just like grammar, there are rules and patterns for conjugation so you will be fine. just do your best and don’t give up so easily.

the beginner vocabulary might not be easy because japanese words are very unique in pronunciation and they are also very different from english. for example who would imagine that “milk” would become “gyunyu” or that a normal word like “ambulance” would turn into “kyukyusha”? i personally think japanese pronunciation is very cute.

beginner level vocabulary is very important because it’s heavily focused on words and sentences that you will use daily, unlike intermediate and advanced which just teach you random words that you will probably never use in normal circumstances, like the word “nebula” which is “seiun” in japanese. like seriously, how often do you use the word nebula?

this is generally what you will go through once you get into the black hole of japanese, i will surely discuss certain things more deeply in later posts but that’s it for now. thank you ghosts for listening. 

じゃあまたね!!

[owls-whimsical-city]

Yellow Robes

What happens when someone substitutes his or her lost alchemic ichor with abyssal essence? What effect would it have them? Or perhaps deamonic power is simply for the desperate and daring? Sometimes taking a walk on the dark side unearths secrets the old generation hid.

In a canyon of blue flowers lit by a pale red and purple sky were the signs of sustained conflict, earth thrown about and vegetation uprooted. Two figures stood opposite of each other, one of pale skin and dark glowing eyes and the other a tanned, green eyed Valkyrie shrouded in gold light. Both bore the marks of bloody injuries, and both were heaving quite visibly. Raising her sword, the Valkyrie screamed “Calamity lord Singe! I will kill you here and end your descent into corruption!” In response, a cold, calm and tired voice retorts, tone matter of fact “Heh, would you look at that, another fool sent to their death. The flowers will be your grave here.” The calamity lord raised his pale blue great sword and clashed with the Valkyrie’s gold illuminated long sword and buckler, sparks flying in all directions burning anything in their path.

To a time before the title of calamity lord, Singe was a student at the Bliss Arcanium University. There he led a pretty normal life pursing his theoretical degree in a five-year program. Coming up the steps to the main building, two males dressed casual clothing walked up the steps. “Hey, will you be coming to the club meeting tonight? I think May got a new book again.” In a neutral voice, he responded back “Is that so… sigh… alright, I will come by later tonight.” The other male added, “I can’t stay for long though.” when they reached the top stairs. The two parted ways. For the winter semester Singe had taken advanced mathematics, ichor theory and arcanium brewing. He was majoring in arcana theory and minoring in alchemy. It was the middle of the semester, and the midterm for all three courses had been administered early in the fall, and thus there was a little cool down right now. Of course, many would say that it was foolish to take both advanced mathematics and ichor theory at the same time due to the amount of work required.

 When morning courses were over the two met again for lunch, along with two other friends. Walking up to Singe Markoff and Lixen Ziker was Ellie Walker and May Weatherford. “Hey guys, are you looking forward to tonight’s club gathering? I just got a new book and guess what, it’s written in the Crelick language.” In response, Ellie retorted back with an “I hope you can read that May.” Out of nowhere, Lixen started to complain with “Damn, I hate having magic theory in the morning. They always make you summarize at least three chapters a week for reading.” This time it was May’s turn to speak, “What, you can’t handle three chapters?” “Not when it’s three chapters from Arcana Theory: Elements & Faith, Magic Handling: Arcanium Shaping and Domain of Power: Chemistry & Magic. Do you know how much work that is Ellie? It’s a lot.” Ellie admonished him with her words in a playful tone, “Sheesh, quit complaining already.”

 Finally it was the last course of the day for everyone. Ellie was the first out, next Lixen and Singe, followed by May. Ellie would meet the three at the old weeping willow in front of the mixed sex dorms. When May finally arrived, she noticeably excited. “Great, everyone is here now. Now we can head off to our fun zone!” Her expression was that of unbridled excitement, almost like a child given a new toy. Both Ellie and Singe thought just from her face that she must have really wanted to dig into her new book tonight. May promised to meet up again and left to bring the book from her room while the others continued on to the underground section of the dorm, towards a hidden, unused room.

 The room must been really old and quite unused for some centuries because when Lixen and May first found it hidden beneath the dorm building, it was dusty with cobwebs and old, rotten wooden furniture filled the room. The air was musty with time, and any that was found in the room was rusted beyond repair. It took time, but the two cleared out the room and spruced up with a bookcase and various old and new texts and scrolls, with several shelves littered a wide variety of ritual materials in glass jars, plastic bottles and herbs bags. Lixen and May kept the room hidden, and one day Singe came across it by mistake due to following the two at night skulking off together. It didn’t long for him to find their little secret, and, while somewhat furious at first, Singe invited, followed by Ellie at a later date. The four became friends not long after.

 Singe, Lixen and Ellie arrived before May popped into the room. Her face was alight with curiosity. In her hand was a leather book, showing signs of age. “Huh, you sure that isn’t going turn to dust the moment we open it?~” Lixen teased her upon sighting the ragged book May had in her hand. “Now now, it’s fine. You don’t need worry your pretty little head.” May placed the text on the table. “Now, lets see the splendour of this text!” May and Ellie were the first to examine it. It was old, and state of the ink fading showed it. Fortunately, the written Crelick language was still readable, but the language itself wasn’t easy to understand either, as it shared characteristics with Latin and early Kufic script. Specifically, the placement of the vowels and lettering was of critical importance as it could have many meanings if not read correctly. After awhile, May and Ellie deciphered enough a section to read the chapter title and get a basic understanding of the text. The section roughly focused on spirits, fay, deamons and the like; spiritual entities for the most part. Several names were mentioned in the passages of the chapter, some of them were pronounceable, but others were not. It would take more time to decode those names. May finely settled on the name Razel the Guide. The name was accompanied by an image of a human figure with four wings and two sets of eight inch back sweeping horns. Most of the colour was faded, aside from a few patches of yellow pigment. “Ummm… May, will this take any longer? If so, I’m going to skip out on this night.” Singe was standing by the bookcase leafing through the various books. May merely responded in happy tone. “You’re staying silly because I have chosen Razel the Guide.” She walked over to the bookcase, and stood in front of Singe. “Besides, I promise it will be ffffuuuuunnnn~. So please Stay.” May had pleading facial expression. Singe eventually gave in with a weak nod of the head.

 Now, the first step to protecting yourself was to ensure that you received no backlash effect if the spell was unstable. Spells had a chance of becoming unstable due to improper mixing of energy and alchemic ichor. It was especially so with summoning rituals. Sulphur and blue chalk were required for the outer protection circle, aluminum and sand for the inner circle, and salt for the inner most details. The ritual reagents themselves were placed in six small brass bowls that were arranged around a six-pointed star. “Alright, does that cover everything for the reagents we need? May?” Taking a quick glance back at the book page, May said, “Yes… I think so.” “That sounds confident.” Lixen’s voice had a hint of sarcasm. “Oh, we also require crushed Wolfs Bane and Dead Sea salt. My bad.”

 With the all the components gathered, all four started to chant. The reagents were lit ablaze and the Crelick words were spoken aloud. Time passed… the chanting continued for a bit… and nothing. “What… that was… disappointing, nothing came out.” May’s emotions easily showed on her face, while Lixen was indifferent to the result and Ellie was stoic but determined to know why it failed. Singe was the only one who looked tired. “… All right, nothing showed up. I’m dead tired.” Singe headed towards the table. “We better start cleaning, unless you wish to fool around some more for whatever reason, May.” She had gotten over the disappointment. “ We’re keeping up the protection circles at least, just in case.” “Alright, then I will head out early. I will help out next time.” Lixen casually said, “Yeah, We can handle it.” After an exchange of goodnights, May, Ellie and Lixen stayed behind, while Singe to go sleep.

 On his way to his dorm, Singe felt like he was being watched. The air was slightly cold in the dorm hallway. A small ray of light spilled across the hall from an open door, lighting up only a narrow band of the darkness. From the looks of it, he hazarded that most people were either in their rooms or out. Those that were in their rooms were most likely sleeping, hopefully. There was one more flight of stairs to go before the fifth floor. Upon reaching his shared sleeping quarters, his roommate met him at the door. “Singe, that you?” “Yeah, it’s me Coleman. No need to be scared.” “Well then, get in and close the door already. It’s already 20:45, and it’s cold out here.” “Yeah, will do.” With that darkness returned to the hallway, like it never left.  After closing the door behind him, Singe commented on his roommate’s choice of sleepwear. “Hmm, you’re lucky I got used to you sleeping naked because I don’t anyone else would put up with you.” “Maybe you’re right. Glad I have you as my roommate then.”

 Singe was faced with a black desert with bright green monolithic structures rising out of the sand. The ocean was a shade of red akin to a cherry. The shadows seemed to shift in a haze to darker shades at random. Larger shadows moved on the horizon. In the distance was an approaching figure that wore an open black and yellow threaded robe with black pants. They would almost perfectly bend in if it weren’t for the yellow of the robe. The figure had four horns and wings, glowing blue eyes and pale white skin. “Hello Singe, you seem to be doing well. You haven’t got lost I see in this mess.” The figure spoke in a soft, hushed voice that was clear as day. “Wha… Who are you and where I’m I?” “Who am I?” The figure furrowed his brows, the blue pinpoint irises disappearing for a moment. “I’m Razel, and as for where you are, you’re dreaming. This is a very strange dream. Have you ever been here before?” Now that he mentioned it, it was a strange dreamscape. “Do you dream of alien structures and black deserts?” “… No, not really. Why?” “… Just curious.” Keeping his distance, Singe started speaking again, “So it worked… did we actually summon you Razel?” “No, you did.” “Me?” “Yes, you were the only one that looked interesting.” Razel’s form, while clearly defined, was almost plain if not for the horns and wings.

 At first the feeling was minor, like a faint itch. However, as the conversation went on, Singe started to notice said sensation much more strongly, a feeling of peacefulness and attraction? He was going to ask, but Razel interrupted him before he could say anything. “Ah, so you have finally noticed the affect.” “Wha… what affect?” “The feeling of calm, and maybe an attraction towards me?” The robed figure seemed like it was faintly smiling Singe’s realization, and it now spoke with a playful, kind voice. “Do you find it strange?” “Yes I do. I find it very strange. Ca… do you want to explain?” “When I touch the minds of humans, some are indifferent, but others aren’t. Of those few, even fewer are attracted to me, and I do like to sometimes indulge those feelings.” Without realizing it, the distance between two was shortened. Somehow Razel got closer seemingly without moving. With the increased closeness, the sensations only got stronger.

 Without saying a word, Razel reached out their left hand, caressing Singe’s Jaw lightly. The touch was faint but soft like his voice. Why didn’t he jump back in shock? Perhaps it was because their touch felt like fine silk, soft but electric. The sensation felt good, and soon Singe closed his eyes. “I see, so you do enjoy my touch. I thought so. Normally people would not allow me to get so close, nor touch them for that matter. Yet you have. Why is that?” While pondering the question of why, Razel stroking became stronger, rubbing Singe’s check with his thumb and caressing his hair the other fingers. “Is it perhaps that you enjoy my company and touch that much?” Their palm was now resting on their jaw. It felt so pleasant like he was melting. Before long, the conversation fell into silence, with Razel warping both of their arms around Singe and cuddling with him.

After awhile, Singe opened his eyes, realized that he got swept up with the soft, electric touch. He found his muscles fully relaxed under the care of Razel, who only giggled at it. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. I won’t do anything unless you want me to do that is.” “Rea… really?” “Yes, I’m not forceful. For example, this must feel good.” The situation was still confusing, but the soft touch of Razel’s skin was very reassuring until their hand lightly brush Singes tented pants. A soft, low moan escaped his lips “Hmm, do you want to come with me since you’re so into this? I promise to bring you back if that is what you desire. How’s that?” Singe was like a cat enjoying it’s patting, especially when he murmured his approval. And with that darkness slowly crept inwards from the corner of his vision as Razel held him, all the while they lightly rubbed his dick though the tented fabric. Soon the inky blackness tinted everything.

[squirenonny]

7, 8, 11, 12, 13, 14. Voltron and/or Mistborn.

[Autistic character ask meme]

Voltron (Keith, Pidge) first, then Mistborn (Steris, Vin, Spook) below the cut because this got really long haaaa these aren’t special interests at ALL

Voltron

7. what calms them down?

90% of the time Keith calms down with some kind of physical activity (i.e. training). Mostly stress builds up as a restless kind of energy, paired with frustration that very easily turns to anger, and fighting is just… the fastest way to get it out. Plus, training is totally acceptable for a paladin, so there’s that. Other forms of physical activity that Keith finds calming: hiking, cave diving, jogging, pacing. (The other 10% of the time, he calms down by being incredibly still–star-gazing with Shiro or Pidge are favorites, but he’ll also sometimes just…. lie on his bed and let his mind wander.)

Pidge calms down by getting tf away from people. Normally that means going to work on robots/computers/other random projects down in Green’s hangar (or in their bedroom back on Earth), but it could also mean reading, listening to music (or intergalactic transmissions), or watching a movie while wrapped in the biggest blanket they can find. I also like to think Pidge sketches a lot. Mostly technical drawings, but sometimes just random things. (I mean. Voltron with a flaming sword + ladybug + whatever else ended up on their notepad.)

8. Do they know they’re Autistic? if so when & how did they realise?

Pidge absolutely knows they’re autistic. They were diagnosed relatively young, probably in elementary school, after a teacher noticed Pidge’s social and communication difficulties and talked with the Holts. So in a way it feels like they’ve always known. Certainly as long as they’ve been aware of people outside their family, they’ve known they were different, and they had a word for that pretty early on.

Keith doesn’t know he’s autistic. Maybe he’s very early in the process of self-diagnosis: getting to know Pidge brings him past the ‘all I know about autism I learned from Hollywood’ stage, and he’s started to identify with certain autistic traits, but he hasn’t had more than the occasional flash of ‘maaaaybe I’m autistic??’ followed immediately by that kind of embarrassed denial so many of us get. (That, “Come on Keith, get over yourself, you’re just an introvert, stop trying to be a special snowflake.”) We’ll get there.

11. how do they prefer to communicate? are they non verbal/have periods of being non verbal? do they use sign language? do they talk? do they prefer text, etc?

Pidge tends to be hyperverbal and doesn’t usually have difficulty with spoken language, but they do find typing to be more efficient. They’re less likely to ramble that way, and they feel more in control of their words when they can edit them before they send the message.

Keith is partially nonverbal. He goes nonverbal when he’s stressed or angry, and when he’s tired/confused/otherwise emotional or low on spoons, words can be hard to come by or get mixed up. (Also, regulating tone is just. The worst.) He doesn’t have a preferred alternate form of communication, mostly because he’s never thought of it, secondarily because he’s self-conscious about communication issues and would rather just be the “brooding emo silent one” than call attention to it. (I do think that eventually he and the rest of Team Voltron would start to develop a kind of sign language–probably a mix of military handtalk, ASL, and Altean Sign Language, because I doubt anyone else in the castle is fluent in any form of sign language.)

12. Is there any senses they struggle with particularly? (hearing, taste, etc)

Pidge has texture sensitivities, especially in clothing and food, but otherwise their hearing is the most sensitive. Buzzing/beeping/humming/other “white noise” gets on their nerves VERY quickly. They use their noise-cancelling headphones a lot even when they aren’t listening to transmissions or music.

Keith is touch-averse. There are certain people/circumstances that don’t bother him (shoulder-touching, Shiro in general, honestly Hunk most of the time, because Hunk gives such tight hugs that it’s deep pressure, which is nice.) Glancing/incidental/light touches–especially when unexpected–are the main issue.

13. their special interests?

Pidge: computers/robots/programming, conspiracy theories, especially aliens. All sorts of creative things–mechanical projects, crafts, legos, building card towers?? Basically anything where they put stuff together to make other stuff. Pidge is a beast at McGuyvering shit.

[Keith’s SIs answered here]

14. are they open about being autistic or do they prefer to keep it to themselves?

Pidge is open about it with friends. It’s not something they would want classmates or acquaintances knowing about, but they tell the other paladins pretty quickly, and they have it in their About on Tumblr and Twitter.

Keith still isn’t even convinced he is autistic, so Pidge (and a little later, Shiro) are the only ones who know he’s even questioning it.

Mistborn

7. what calms them down?

Steris: The biggest way for her to calm down is to be in control in whatever way she can. That might mean making a schedule, organizing a room, or just researching something related to her current project. Being proactive in general helps–she doesn’t really unwind, per se. She can *be* relaxed, but taking a break for the purposes of stress-relief is counter-productive if she hasn’t already de-stressed to a certain level.

Vin: Physical activity, having a set routine or at least a stable set of rules she can live by. Tactile stims are also good–cuddling with Elend, petting TenSoon, letting her mistcloak drift around her. She finds the mists especially calming because it’s the right combination of control, activity, solitude, and low-level sensory stimulation.

Spook: Being in a social situation without necessarily being expected to interact is very relaxing–he likes to have people around, though for most of the series conversations/remembering social norms is more stressful than it is helpful. He like observing–observing his friends or keeping watch. There’s something soothing about looking out through the mists and listening to background noise (the things that aren’t important enough to focus on).

8. Do they know they’re Autistic? if so when & how did they realise?

Spook and Vin for sure no. I highly doubt the Final Empire has a concept of autism or… anything, really. I feel like Steris is aware that she’s neurodiverse, even if she doesn’t have the words for it (or the same words we do…) I guess it would be the equivalent of self-diagnosed. She realized growing up that she was different and sought out other people (or their writings) who had similar experiences. She’s identified where she struggles and developed coping mechanisms in the interest of control.

11. how do they prefer to communicate? are they non verbal/have periods of being non verbal? do they use sign language? do they talk? do they prefer text, etc?

Vin doesn’t have any specific communication issues as far as forms of communication. She is reluctant to share things about herself, and she struggles with code-switching (living on the streets vs. joining a crew vs. mingling with the nobility), and is cautious with her words when she doesn’t feel safe, but it’s not because of a specific difficulty with verbal communication.

Spook has occasional nonverbal episodes–which were much more pronounced when he had the added anxiety of only speaking Eastern Street Slang. He doesn’t pick up languages quickly, and he has a considerable amount of social anxiety centered on the way he talks, which provoked quite a few nonverbal episodes early on in his time with Kelsier’s crew. They diminished as he learned the language. Social anxiety plus his sensitive hearing (tin + autistic sensory issues = augh son your poor ears) means that I imagine Spook having a tendency toward sign language.

Steris, like Vin, doesn’t have specific problems with verbal communication, but she does find written communication to be more precise than spoken word. Speaking is more convenient, so it’s her default, but she very much enjoys writing letters.

12. Is there any senses they struggle with particularly? (hearing, taste, etc)

I don’t see Vin having any particular sensory issues. She’s pretty adaptable, so when she does have issues it’s because something’s new and she’s hyperaware of it–i.e. longer hair, formal gowns, ect. Mostly tactile issues when it’s anything.

Spook. (Spoooook.) Okay, full disclosure: blame Hero of Ages for this, but I headcanon Spook having a lot of sensory issues even before he snapped. He’s big on control and focus because he has to be. Tin is useless to him if he can’t learn to block things out because it’s so easy to push him into overload. And most of the time he’s fine. Unless he’s low on spoons–then things get iffy. Sound is particularly bad, and bright lights.

I think a lot of Steris’s sensory issues are food-related. Nothing is particularly bad, so she mostly just deals with sensory stuff, but she has strong preferences regarding taste and texture, so she likes to be in charge of the menu as much as possible.

13. their special interests?

Vin: Vin has been so focused on survival for so long that she doesn’t have special interests in a traditional sense, but she does get hyperfocused on things–learning the rules of her current surroundings, learning how to use metals, fighting, ect. She goes all-out and gets obsessed with things once she’s put her mind to learning them. The mysteries surrounding the mist spirit and the Well of Ascension were sort of SIs in their own right (though, again, partially born of necessity.)

Spook: people. He spends so much time observing that he tends to develop special interests for people or places. That slum down the block from the safehouse where he knows everyone’s name and who just had a baby and what the current biggest threats are. That noble family he’s supposed to be watching and their staff and their schedule. Vin was a special interest when she first arrived, and that flared into a crush briefly before the hyperfocus eased and their relationship became more natural.

Steris: Politics is the biggest. She knows everything because of long, intense study. Who’s who, the major rivalries and alliances, expectations and common missteps. How to say what she wants without saying it outright. This extends into history and law a little bit, but it’s very much focused on the interactions between the major Houses and other players.

14. are they open about being autistic or do they prefer to keep it to themselves?

Doesn’t really apply because I don’t think Scadrial really has a concept of autism yet (especially in the original trilogy era). Steris is pretty much “This is who I am, deal with it.”

[waldowski89-blog]

02-02-19 - Work?

Here I am again at my desk with half an hour to waste. I actually would rather use that time writing these diaries than playing an app game. I feel like that can be a waste of time… although I do now crave a go on some.

Eurgh, what can I really write here anyway? I’m at a standstill here. I need to write something creatively. Actually, maybe I could look at doing a competition for writing a short story online. That might be fun. Gosh, I long for my University days. Back when I had some real work to worry about. Not this drivel of mine. Blergh anyway I’m being too depressing. What to do, what to do. This only wasted five mins. I think I will play a couple of apps. It’ll only take ten minutes, I think.

I need to set up my whiteboard too. I’ll take a walk today too. “Take” that always sounded funny to me. How does one take a walk? Certainly not lying down. Okay that was barely even a joke. Sorry. I’m taking the piss as it were.

5 seconds into SeaPort and there’s an ad to double rewards. I wanna watch it for the stuff. Frick though, it’s glitched. I don’t want to watch a three minute ad. Why can’t they sort this out properly before implementing the change? I don’t (well I do really) have the time for this. Gosh I love typing random nonsense. Thank god a thirty-second ad has now loaded this time.

Talking of implementing things, Apple seem to have implemented a thing or stricter grammatical help in Pages. Maybe they’ve seen the ads for that Grammarly thing on YouTube that’s always on. You know the one with the really stilted actors who are probably reading some random stupid idiot’s review from the internet. “I like grammarly” “It’s really good” “My dog has worms” etc…

Thinking of how to get back on Twitter. I make everything so complicated. I want to do a few Gifs that tell a kind of story. Like the terminator regaining its mind or something. I also like the crawling one but that was kind of me during my hospital time. Just crawling on, regardless.

I watched Billy Connolly 1994 this morning. It was good. It kind of gives me nostalgia from my childhood perhaps. Like it’s kind of sunny out too. It’s a bit… almost a bit like the six weeks holiday. I must work though. I don’t know if this counts as work but it feels right at least. At least perhaps. I’m never sure of anything really. It’s quite sad in all aspects… OH SHUTTUP ANDREW WE BOTH KNOW THAT’S BULLSHIT! Just get on with it all. Dumbo. I want some AirPods badly. I know I’d use them all the time. Maybe even when out walking too. They’re quite concealable you see or hard to notice I mean. Good keyboard. It’s not so bad typing on this keyboard once one gets used to it. It feels a little small for me though. I’d like to try out an old laptop I have though. Just to see if it’s any more comfortable. [Edit 13-02-19: This is because of a book I was reading about writing called: “How to Write Your First Novel” by Sophie King. The book mentioned trying different tools, as it were, to write with. Keyboards, pens, etc… Funnily enough, I usually write my blogs out by hand before typing them up. A keyboard is faster, however, as the writer goes on to also say herself.]

[Edit 18-02-19: I’ll put in a quote here from the book… oooh, this is like university again. King (2014: 10-11) writes:

“Writing Tools Personally speaking, I write best on my laptop. In fact, I can’t write very well on paper any more. But that’s because I’ve been using my keyboard for years now thanks to my original training as a journalist. I find it faster - my fingers fly across the letters in a way they couldn’t if I wrote on paper and that means my pace is more immediate and I can get my ideas out without forgetting them.

The golden rule about writing on a keyboard is to always, always, back up. This means saving your work somewhere else apart from your computer in case it breaks or is stolen. One tip is to email yourself with your novel file. You should then be able to access this from another computer if something happens to yours. I do this - and I also email it to my daughter with the words DO NOT READ! Alternatively, you could save it to a memory stick, although you need to make sure you don’t lose it.

However, I have friends at the top of the Bestseller lists who can only write on paper. They then type up afterwards. Some people pay others to do that for them, although obviously this is going to cost. However - and forgive me if this sounds basic - an agent and publisher won’t consider a piece if it isn’t typed.”

That was a long bloody quote but I believe most of it was relevant. It’s 19-02-19 now… no joke. It was already late anyway.]

This is almost a Tumblr a day speed. JUST WRITE PEOPLE! WHATEVER IT MAY BE ABOUT IT DOESN’T MATTER! I want this to be inspirational in a kind of way. Not just dreary drivel but like I’m slowly getting somewhere. Somewhere maybe out of my comfort zone but safe. If you know what I mean. Like a steady income job kind of way… hint hint. Getting paid for diary entries. How luzurious. Ha Lazurious. I meant Luxurious.

I think also the barrier may be that I think it won’t go anywhere. As a dream it stays perfect and the “what if” can be a good outcome. Reality has a way of sucking life out of you sometimes. In any case let’s move on. To what I don’t know.

YouTube has automatically gone onto Pogo music. It’s really good music and the edits are amazing. I’ve linked them before on Twitter but I could put a few at the end here too. Yup (this makes me happy), another Tumblr here has just formed by luck and happenstance. I don’t even need to release this yet. I can stack them. I definitely want to hand write one at some point too though. For this Wednesday. That’s 6th February 2019 dependent on when you’re reading this. I love all this because it feels somewhat productive. Don’t judge me too harshly please. This is what I spend my time doing I just never feel confident in publishing any of it. I have like six-thousand notes on my phone too. Most of which are jumping off points (harhar) and ideas for short stories. I should work through all that too. This IS my work now. I love it and you. NOW SHUSH MUSHY.

Anyway, wow, from The Terminator (which I must watch again) to all this mushyness. AHEM. now I’m stuck on what to write. Stream of consciousness this is. Oh that’s a point, I want to be doing Waldowsky Readses. So that will include maybe Jane Eyre for starters I believe and my Tumblrs when I get around to it all. I’d like to read Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland too. Talking of Pogo that’s what they use in their vids sometimes. I love when Alice says: “That explains the troubles that I’m always in.” For me it’s heartbreaking. A realisation of one’s predicament in life or just existing I mean. That explains it and she tears up. It’s like (MGS REFERENCE INCOMING) when Otacon says: “It’s no use.” Like fighting as hard as one can and then grinding to a slow halt. Although it’s like settling. Like a night of struggling and then the sun rises. You just pip the post. That’s what it takes. All until you cannot fight anymore and settle in. Acceptance of one’s position in the world. In any case, shuttup now thats just over one thousand words. BIG HUG! See you sometime soon on here. On the line.

My name’s Waldowski/y and thank you for reading this, whoever you may be.

I may explain the Waldowsky thing later on. For the time being let my reasoning be that I just think it looks better that way. It suits me that way. You can pronounce it how you like by the way but it simply can be exactly the same. Or with an emphasis on the SKY. That sounds nice, wall-doe-sky. It sounds a little silly which is fine and suits me perfectly too. Silly is good. Weird Al oh yeah Grumps had him on that I haven’t watched okay thats’s the end I’ve gotta go now… not really but shush. Join in the charade. DARE TO BE STOOPID!

Bibliography (oooh, spangly):

King, S. (2014) How to Write Your First Novel, Robinson.

Links:

POGO - Bloom

POGO - Carpet Ride

POGO & JEESH - The Trouble

POGO - Grow Fonder

POGO - redruM

Bonus