#like those posts about things people in customer service have accidentally done

[hakuryuu]

you know when you read something so funny that you skip laughing and go direct to crying

[christiannerd]

IBS is a disability

TW for discussion/vent about how a disability affects me, and mention of having to hide pain

Disclaimer: I am new to Tumblr, and have yet to watch an etiquette video. If I have accidentally said or done anything I wasn't supposed to, it was entirely unintentional, and I deeply apologize. I will correct it as soon as I am made aware.

Warning: long post ahead (under the cut)

IBS should be considered a disability. I know a bunch of people in the disabled community online already consider it one, but legally it's not considered one.

Sure, im still able to have a job and do my school work, but that doesn't mean it doesn't make those things harder than it would be for someone who's digestive system isn't a mine field.

What happens when I have a flare-up at work? Which, by the way, has happened before. I can't just take a 2 hour bathroom break in the middle of my 8 hour shift! So I just stand there. in pain. ignoring the pain. keeping that customer-service smile on my face so the customers don't notice I'm in pain.

One time (before I had my meds, so the pain was a lot worse back then too) I was working a shift and my boss stationed me in the elevator. Literally the most useless job I could have been given, I was just there to press the buttons for customers. (I had a more important role at one specific spot in the shift, but that lasted like 5 minutes). I had a flareup towards the beginning of that shift. I could tell this was going to be a multi-hour bathroom visit, so I couldn't do anything about it until I got off work. I was in so much pain that I just wanted to curl up into a ball and cry. But of course, I couldn't do that. I had to stand there, and smile, and keep working. So not only was I having to smile through the judgemental stares and comments bc I was being paid to press elevator buttons, but I had to ignore being in agonizing physical pain as well.

Its not that my IBS stops me from having a job, but it probably effects my performance at my job. Who can focus in that much pain? Sure that day focus wasn't really an issue bc I was just pressing elevator buttons, but in any other position it would have been a major problem. And if I dealt with the problem to make the pain go away, I'd lose several hours of work, on a consistent basis, and probably be fired for it.

And as far as school, hygine, and social life goes, I lose several hours out of my day, every day, to being stuck in the bathroom trying desperately to make the pain go away. You think that doesn't effect my ability to find time for homework? You think that doesn't effect my ability to make it to class? You think that doesn't effect my ability to take care of my body in other ways?

I very often have to choose between going to class or taking a shower, because the time I was suppose to be in the shower, I was on the toilet. I often have to choose between getting my homework done, and spending time with friends, because the time I was supposed to be doing homework, I was stuck in the bathroom. I know homework vs social life is a common time balancing problem for students, but for most people it's "less time with friends to get the homework done", but for me it's very often "no time with friends to get the homework done". It's so isolating. If I didn't see these people at church, and at club meetings, I'd probably never get to see them. (and yes, I have missed or been late to those bc of my IBS as well)

My IBS has kept me up until the middle of the night before. It's made me miss class. It's made me late to things. It's made me miss exams! (Thank goodness my professors were understanding enough to let me take it another time).

The only ways I can manage my IBS is by taking meds, and/or severely restricting my diet. My pills help me be able to avoid some of the pain from eating food, but like any disability aid, it doesn't help 100%. Without my meds, most vegetables are completely out of the question. So is a long list of fruits, and so many other things. Even tea hurts me! Coffee too! Meds help, but I'm still in pain. Less pain, but still pain. And im still spending hours in the bathroom. 1-2 hours at a time, instead of 3-4, but it's still countable in terms of hours.

This is a lifelong condition that I was born with. If any other part of my body was effecting me this way, no one would doubt that I'm disabled. Heck, this effects me more than some of the recognized disabilities that I have! How is this not a disability?

[lorbanery]

I was randomly recommended a video about mysterious "fake towns" and figured why not, I just needed something to listen to and half-watch while I mended a pair of toddler pants.

So it opened reading an old 4chan post by this guy describing hsi experience accidentally driving into one of these "fake towns", getting creeped out, and leaving the next morning unable to find the place on GPS or google maps or anything. It reads like a creepypasta which, to be fair, I would probably write it like that too if I stumbled on one of these places and had no idea what was going on. My first instinct was that it was one of those essentially Company Towns that the military built near a couple of military bases for the families of soldiers and officers stationed at the base that were eventually abandoned. But then he encountered a couple of people, who also kept cropping up as he tried to interact with other businesses around "town", at which point I realized it was probably one of those areas the military maintains for official exercises. The internet apparently agrees with me.

I mean, I was thinking about those mini-towns they built to test nuclear bombings; but apparently they also maintain more towns like the one the OP described to train for, like, raids and shit like that.

Anyway, as the youtuber was going through the beats of the story and matching up why it made sense, I had to turn it off.

At one point, the OP went to a couple of different fast food places trying to get dinner, but naturally didn't find anyone working until he went to the McDonald's where he was able to get some off-brand chicken nuggets before finding someone (the cashier from the McD's) at one of the hotels to give him a bed for the night and directions back to the highway the next morning. When he checked up on his financial statements after this adventure, he never saw any charges come in for the food or hotel.

The youtuber's interpretation of this was, essentially, "Of COURSE they didn't charge him for anything, otherwise he would've known something was up!"

...

Now, I'm not saying that the two folks manning the McD's and the hotel weren't doing the absolute bare minimum to make OP think he hadn't accidentally stumbled onto essentially an elaborate movie set. But I'm fascinated by the implications of this half-thought out explanation. Like, you've accepted that this was a fake town, as in it's all buildings and physical infrastructure without anyone actually using the space as home; you've accepted that McD's was not making food because you acknowledged that the off-brand nuggets were probably something they just grabbed from the mess hall and passed off to OP to keep up kayfabe. But also, in your version of this scenario, the McD's and the hotel are set up to and fully capable of taking payments????

The two put upon soldiers in this universe can barely be assed to come up with a reason why the person at McD's looks exactly like the person at the hotel. They fucks they have to put on a customer service face are running on fumes. The literally dumped some microwaved cafeteria nuggets on a tray purely in the hopes that the OP was only looking for dinner and that he'd get the fuck out once he was done. But you think that the military cares so much about extracting the occasional $10 from random lost citizens that they went through the trouble of setting up the POS on the register, setting up employee accounts in the POS, training the kayfabe guards on the register, setting up a bank deposit, keeping cash change in the till, just for the rare occasion of some random civilian driving past the gate and insisting on eating dinner in the ghost town instead of just turning around and getting back on the highway? And the only thing stopping them from charging OP was that his financial statements would come back with a charge from "McDonald's store #43802-MB, Area 51 3/4" for "mess hall nuggs"?????

That makes more sense to you than the kayfabe guards just going through the motions of doing a transaction and those registers have probably never even been turned on, if they actually even work in the first place??????

Just. You clearly spent the Least amount of time actually thinking about this.

[twstd-aoba]

About this blog + rules

Due to unknown circumstances, Aoba has been isekai'd to the world of Twisted Wonderland...

RULES/INFO

Despite the fact that Aoba is from an 18+ game, the mod is not comfortable with nsfw/explicit roleplay

The basics - no homophobia/racism/transphobia/sexism/etc etc

Due to personal and mental issues, the mod struggles with memory and losing track of time. Please be patient between rp's, and feel free to @ us in a thread we haven't replied to since we likely forgot

Ships and flirting are 100% welcome, just be clear about it since mod doesn't want to accidentally assume things (just ask in the tags or message us directly - whichever works)

Base account is @the-hunted so follows will come from there

You don't need to know the character (aoba, in this case) to interact! We welcome everyone

AOBA INFO

The man himself!

Name: Aoba Seragaki Nicknames: Bluespotted Puffer (by Floyd), Monsieur trois visages (by Rook - it means Mister 3 faces) and more to be added! Pronouns: He/Him Gender: Male Age: 17 (2nd year - aged down to fit into twst) Height: 175cm/5'9

TWST SPECIFICS

Dorm: Octavinelle "Hey - why do these fish people want me to work for them? Man, at least I've done customer service before..."

Signature Spell/Unique Magic "I don't have one of those? But I think Scrap would count - let me tell you about that." Aoba has a special ability called Scrap, which allows him to mix his consciousness with other people's through his voice and use it to control them, though he can also destroy them and leave the victims in a comatose-like state. [Heh... stolen from the wiki]

Class: 2-E "I really like Jade - no not like that (I think) - but he's really interesting! Listening to him talk about mushrooms is cool, but I don't think I would ever let him cook for me." "Riddle is alright too. I don't mind all the rule stuff as long as he doesn't force it onto me."

[Alright... Here's to hoping I didn't forget anything]

let's go back to his nickname from Rook - Mister 3 faces, and to that ability, scrap.

Scrap is usually in a controllable state, however a separate state of his identity, dubbed Shiroba, appears to come out when he loses control.

There's also Ren, a part of his consciousness implanted in a robotic dog allmate (an allmate is like - a phone but better and it comes in the shape of an animal)

"I feel like there are voices coming from inside my head rather than from outside it." - Aoba in dmmd

[#no1 quote mod relates to]

SHIROBA (previously Sly Blue)

Name: Shiroba (previously known as Sly Blue) Traits: Sadomasochistic, violent

TWST SPECIFICS

If I were to rp Aoba overblotting, he would fully become Shiroba

Unsure if this is canon or not, but here, Aoba doesn't remember what happens when Shiroba is fully in control

Ren

Shown are his allmate form (dog) and his Rhyme form (human).

To make this easier for those who don't know DMMD and for the purpose of RP, let's just say he's always Ren (dog form)

Name: Ren Traits: Helpful, stoic, purposeful, calm

TWST SPECIFICS

Nothing really, just letting you know that Aoba here isn't aware that Ren is part of him, and just thinks of him as his allmate companion.

Tags!

|twstd aoba answering| - for asks to the blog

|thread of aoba| - will be added to the end of an rp thread once the rp is over (there's a high chance mod forgets to do this lmao)

|twstd talking| - when mod is yapping about something out of character

|aoba interact!| - when making posts for others to interact/start an rp with!

|twstd aoba introduced| - info posts, like this one!

More to be added as mod thinks of them...

Mod!

Hhi, I run @rookonthehunt and (to be added) alongside this blog! I'm bisexual & bigender, my pronouns are he/him, although they are always subject to change xD. On that note, she/her is okay, though not preferred. Please do not use neutrals like they/them. I like writing and drawing, and am Pagan!

I consider myself a small time cosplayer (Rook and Epel from TWST, Sei from DMMD and Sunday from HSR are my victims so far. Viktor from Arcane is next...) I dunno what else to say really LMAO.

[sixthwater]

🎮Synastry and: the Friends III🎮

Alright lets bring in some more friends!!! We're beginning the friend portion of this series. I'm not quite sure how long this will be, but we're starting the ride so strap in.

Note: This is using and based off of personal experience, I will be using specific people and referencing them throughout the post

Me & "Jen" 's placements

☉: Cancer / Aries ☽: Taurus / Scorpio ☿: Cancer / Taurus ♀: Cancer / Pisces ♂: Virgo / Leo

I can't believe I have a real life Jen Harding!

Fun fact x3: I'm an INFJ & she's an ENTP, you know how that plays out

👾 Overlays

Me: Sun & Mercury in 9th / "Jen": Sun & Mercury in 2nd

This may be the first time in this series where I am straight up very stereotypical in how these overlays play out. We both LOVE traveling and talk about visiting so many different places nearly all the time. "Jen" herself is someone who has traveled at least once every year whether to visit friends or family, so this overlay is absolutely perfect for her. When I was first visiting her to see if I wanted to live here, she busted a spontaneous road trip on me that I agreed to and we didn't have a single argument the entire time (did we try and make it to our stop in one day? yup. did we almost die? yes but thats bc trucks suck.) and we realized then that hey if we can be stuck in a car that small for that long, on a road trip, and not hate each other for four days then we can probably room together with little difficulty and here we are. We also tend to accidentally drift into a lot of deep conversations about politics and the way the world works. It's never really philosophical it's more detached. As for the second overlay, "Jen" tends to buy me lots of things. I wouldn't place it as a security thing, it's more of a appreciation and love language so to speak. It's not really gift giving either? I'm trying to dance around this without throwing out vulnerable conversations we've had haha, but it's the best way she feels that she can express her care/love for me.

Me: Moon in 7th / "Jen": Moon in 9th

These overlays kind of work together for us. There's a big aspect of us seeing parts of the other that make us feel safe to be ourselves around the other (I hope that made sense), and causing the effect you get where you suddenly drop your customer service voice. Or where you'd go out of your way to do things you wouldn't do normally because it's that person (think of like, "well you've been sad so I did _____"). Whether it's because I'm annoying as fuck or she feels safe (reason: pending) but I'm able to get her to be vulnerable every once in a blue moon and express actual raw emotions beyond just being 'okay', and I feel comfortable enough to not have to be extremely defensive 24/7 and just be despite some problems later. We also both see qualities in each other that we don't necessarily want to have in ourselves, but we appreciate them because they help catch the cracks and flaws in ourselves. I can be extremely worrisome and tense about a lot of things, while she is much more easy going and willing to take risks. We help to balance the other out when we need it.

Me: Mars in 11th / "Jen": Mars in 7th

Not a lot to put for this. "Jen" might feel this more since she has 7th house placements, but I have my silly like aqua rising so-- we both agree that we don't like being attached at the hip and sharing All of our friends. While we do have a lot of the same friends and we've done a lot of things with those same groups we just don't want to intertwine our lives that much. She does take the initiative to invite me to things and gets on my ass about being alone when I can just invite myself or ask her for group activities. While I try to remind her not to over-extend herself with too Many group activities or being there for all of the people that she knows. Besides that I like to drag her around to do silly little tasks sometimes.

**NOTE: Me: Venus in 9th / "Jen": Venus in 1st, this really just kind of adds onto the first two paragraphs so there's not much to put into these overlays

Quick Note: Our suns square each other & our moons oppose each other. So we can often approach the same situation from completely different viewpoints and frustrate each other despite speaking the same language from an outside point of view. We also have different ways of expressing our care for each other and emotions. I usually cook, clean, converse (read: unpaid therapist), etc. On the other hand "Jen" will do more physical things like hang out with you, buy you gifts, joke around, etc. So because of that very fun combination of squares and oppositions it's a constant "Ooohh I get it.....wait what?" between us

🧩 Aspects

Mutual Sun Square Mercury

Remember that "wait what?" I was talking about? Yeah it's because of this and an aspect I will be talking about in a second. So many times we will be talking and I will get frustrated because she is not understanding what I'm saying, or I can tell we're talking or thinking about the Same thing or she thinks I'm not. I'm fully aware it happens to her too without me even having to pull this up, but the second I did I laughed my ass off because, yeah duh. The most recent example I can think of is us talking about, Something dealing with the work environment? I can't remember, but I (poorly) explained something and she said "Well no (etcetcetc)" and I vividly remember thinking "I just fucking said that" lmao. This aspect is, well 1) something that requires patience and Talking because that's how we always solve any issues and 2)...no actually patience is all. Pause, take a step back, and think about if the other person really meant what they said. Are they really ignoring you? Probably not, just talk it out and go back over what You said as well. You might just be speaking two different languages tbh. However it doesn't help that we have:

My Moon Squared by "Jen" 's Mars

The amount of times I get hurt and go silent after comments she makes is unreal it's kinda funny. I'm much more openly sensitive than "Jen" is, and she can brush it off a lot faster than I can. There are certain topics where it will hit harder than usual roasts and insults and I pull back into my shell mode and it ruins the mood lmao. Now, I'm not saying you should take this aspect as something light-hearted and that you're just a sensitive person and to forgive the mars person, they don't mean what they said (rolling eye emoji). With anything in life, take a step back, assess what's going on with a level head, and figure out for yourself if you're reacting appropriately and then decide for yourself your overall move/decision afterwards. While yes, certain comments do hurt me (we talk about them), I do also know that she cares about me and doesn't intentionally mean to hurt me (because? we talk about it), so this is just another thing for me to remember that: communication is very important and while I'm not going to just suddenly Stop being sensitive because it's who I am, this is just another aspect at play in our relationship.

Now listen we have a SHIT ton of negative aspects like it's not even funny, but we got some good ones in there too

My Sun Trine "Jen" 's Moon

This kind of wraps up everything I wrote in regards to the moon overlays. If it wasn't for our hard aspects, we wouldn't have to really try with our friendship because this tight aspect just sort of...does it for us. Once again, we feel very comfortable with each other, and we just sort of vibe? Like we're not really bothered by each other and what we want to do (there's a lot of "well what do you want to do" and it's mainly because we want to make sure the other person is happy and content). We both want to make sure we're emotionally okay and tend to make the other become more comfortable with their vulnerable side without even realizing it (except me bc I'm into astrology hehe).

Honestly, despite how fucking Annoying they are, I'm glad we have those harsh aspects because if we didn't have them then we wouldn't even bother to get to know each other beyond the superficial (but these easy aspects REALLY help to balance them out)

Another thing that can be very helpful! I have my a Leo DSC, "Jen" has an important angle in the same sign. Same for Aquarius. We have a bunch of vertex & chiron aspects as well. A mix of harsh and easy aspects, but I'm only staring at the tight aspects of course, still a good decent amount, so I can see how this is still working out despite the amount of harsh aspects we have compared to easy ones. Plus the modalities etcetcetc.

NOTE: Please remember to take these posts as reference. I personally am more accepting and willing to deal with harsh aspects due to my personal life experience and for what I just explained before. My words should not be taken as fact (no one's should?) and you should be looking at these posts in a way that you can help navigate your own synastry to help understand what might be the source of something in your relationship. If someone is treating you in a way you do not like, do not make an excuse for it in the name of astrology. Love yourself first, you're with you until the day that you die.

Honestly if you've seen Dead to Me, Jen & Judy's relationship sums ours up. Especially the clip where Judy shuts down and Jen goes "are you mad at me because it's okay to be mad at me" and Judy says "she doesn't really feel like talking right now", that has happened so many times to us lmao.

Fun note for "Jen": if you're reading this I got you bubble tea its sitting in the fridge :)

[xmint-conditionx]

☆ flanked ☆ prologue | knj

(verb) flank - 

guard or strengthen (a military force or position) from the side.

attack down or from the sides, or rake with gunfire from the sides.

☆ pairing: soldier!namjoon x widow!reader; namjoon x fem!reader ☆ word count: 2K ☆ summary: you’re a recently widowed military spouse who is stationed at camp walker, south korea. you’re dealing with the tragedy of your husband’s recent death, and in the process, you accidentally meet a k-pop idol you’ve had a crush on for years. who knew you’d both be at the same post while he’s doing his compulsory service? who knew he’d be so damn nice? who knew it would be impossible to get him out of your head? ☆ warnings: mentions of death, public embarrassment, military death, adult language ☆ a/n: hey everyone c:i’m really happy to be reuploading this fic; i’m going to set a goal of updating it once a month. this is my baby, and i want to do it right, so if it doesn’t come as predictably as i want it to, apologies in advance, but i really hope you enjoy what i have! 

this fic starts of intense and will only get more intense. i very much recommend double checking the warnings list because there’s gonna be some pretty heavy stuff in the prologue here and going forward. please do keep in mind that this is purely fiction and i do not want (most of) this to actually happen to anyone. it won’t all be sad though, promise! i mean it’s namjoon we’re talking about: the biggest goofball on the planet. there will be eventual smut, but we have to build up to it, now don’t we? thanks luv, enjoy!

Here you are, in the quaint little convenience store and dry cleaning shop right outside of post, on just another cloudy Winter Wednesday. However, today is a little different, because you have made it to the front of the line and have begun violently crying. Not one of those shedding a single tear cries, but a terrible cry that has taken hold of your entire body. A shaking, snot-faucet, fist-clenching cry. Nothing truly lamentable has happened, except for an inability to recall the Korean word for receipt. You’ve lived at Camp Walker for just shy of two years, so it’s safe to say your ineffectiveness in vocalizing your needs isn’t for lack of knowledge. Despite your quickly-grasped and quite thorough knowledge of the language, the overwhelming sadness and anger you possess about your situation somehow has evaporated away all your Hangul proficiency. Which has left you looking utterly incompetent. Of course a breakdown is in order. All you needed to do was pick up your dead husband’s dress blues for fucks sake, but you can’t remember how to speak and now you’re embarrassing yourself and wasting this poor lady’s time and why does this have to be so goddamn difficult.

The people behind you in line are now beginning to stare in a strange mix of confusion, concern, irritation, and apprehension. Perfect. You exit the line and begin sputtering out desperate attempts at the lost word, so entirely wrapped up in your own stupid brain that you fail to register the approach of a tall man in an American style ACU. A deep and calm voice eases out of the truly tree-sized man in front of you.

“Ma’am, do you need some help?” he asks.

Your vision is tear-ruined and the last thing you want is pity. Pity is exhausting. 

“Oh, you’re gonna help the poor little sad girl, huh?” you spit out at him, not even bothering to look up, “just tell me the fucking word for receipt please. That’s all I need.” 

Despite your downright rudeness, the man replies without hesitation. “Yeongsujeung. Are you sure that’s all I can help you with?” You look over towards the counter to see that the lady has begun helping other customers, and you really aren’t looking forward to waiting in line again. No pity, you remind yourself, so you shake your head at the man and meekly muster out a “gamsahabnida” as you stare at the floor, too embarrassed at your lack of composure to make eye contact with your new acquaintance. 

He just sighs and says, “Ma’am, would you mind if I stood in line for you? It might feel good if you sat down for a minute. I promise it’s not a hassle. I’m here to get my dry cleaning too.” 

Jesus Christ, what is this guy? Some kind of mind reader? Who is that observant? Or are you just that obvious? You really, really don’t want more help. That’s all people have been trying to do for the past week. Coming by your house with food, offering to walk your dog, so many informational pamphlets about therapy, every person saying that they can be a listening ear if you need it. But you don’t. You just want to be left alone already. Nothing anyone has said has been comforting, because they don’t actually know what it’s like. They just don’t get it. And it’s nice that they want to help and are actually trying, but fuck. It mostly just makes things worse. But your head hurts from the exertion of crying, and that’s all it takes to convince you that you might actually want to sit down.

You wipe your eyes and finally feel like you’re allowed to really breathe again. You look up at the kind man to thank him once more, this time more sincerely, and in that instant, you’re sure you’ve gone insane. That’s got to be it. The death of your husband has thrown you completely off your rocker. That’s the only explanation for what stands before you. You’ve finally had a full psychotic break and are currently hallucinating in the corner store. You’d honestly burst out laughing if your throat wasn’t raw, because standing in front of you is a man who looks remarkably like Kim Namjoon. 

You haven’t thought about this man in years, and his dark shorter haircut instead of his usual longer locks is probably the most confusing matter about the whole thing, oddly enough. You recall in your mind the photocard you have of him from when you bought one of their albums several years ago. The luscious long blonde hair in the photo is shockingly different to the style that he’s sporting now. If it weren’t for his signature dimple greeting you alongside his small sincere grin, you’d almost have never recognized him. 

Oh my god. And now you’re standing in front of him, and he’s standing in front of you, and he’s so much taller than you thought he would be, and you’re having a meltdown in a cornerstore, and he’s so much more handsome in person, and now you’re staring into each other's eyes and this can’t be happening. 

It can’t really be him. You’ve just gone completely mental. You know the leader of BTS began his compulsory military service about a year and a half ago, but the chances of you crossing paths is still nearly impossible. You begin to tell yourself that he’s just a doppelgänger and your recent distress and suffering has made your brain desperate for serotonin. It can’t really be him. You’re just crazy now. That would be easier to deal with, at least. 

You half don’t believe it’s him and half don’t want to believe it’s him. If it is him, you sure as hell don’t want to make the interaction any more weird than it’s already been. If it’s not him, you’d only be embarrassing yourself further. The best, and really, only course of action to take at this point, because you absolutely do not trust your words, is just to nod your head and avert your gaze as you walk to the little bench by the door. You try to focus your thoughts on literally anything other than your brain’s manifestation of a pop star. It almost doesn’t happen, but as peace comes, you mentally thank yourself for your long-time practice of mindfulness. It would have been an impossible task had you never done this before. By the time he gets to the front, you’ve successfully managed to calm down and focus on your breathing. You’ve got yourself convinced the man simply looks similar to Namjoon, and that’s it. Nothing to get worked up about.

As you rejoin the man, he greets you with another warm grin and gestures to the counter. Shit. Are you ready to talk again? He’s insisting you go first, and you notice the little dimple poke out again. His lips are so… pillowy. Oh god, are you staring? You shake loose of his grasp on you and in practically perfect Korean, apologize to the lady for before, tell her the last name and details on the order, and tell her you’re sorry about misplacing the receipt from drop off with the order number on it because it’s... been a really long week. She nods, seeming relieved you didn’t burst into tears again and goes in the back to search for your items. 

The tall serviceman next to you now speaks to you in Korean. “That was impressive. You’ve been here for a long time?” 

“Only two years.” 

“Well I suppose you really didn’t need my help then,” he says and chuckles a little. “I’m glad to see sitting down was able to help you relax.” 

The lady hands over the dry cleaning and you thank her. As you pay, tears begin to swell in your eyes again. You’re holding the things your husband will be buried in. You can’t stop yourself from picturing it all… the funeral, his cold body, whether you’ll have to hold a closed casket ceremony, his poor mom, how long the receiving line is going to be, whether he would want flowers or not, wondering if you’ll be able to put his little award stripes on his suit jacket in the right order or if you’re going to have to get help… again.

 Being so wrapped up in your thoughts, you don’t notice your new acquaintance giving the lady his ticket. He turns to you after she’s walked in the back. 

“Lucky husband, getting his dress uniform picked up for him. You really know how to spoil a man, huh?” The seemingly innocent comment shoots fire through your veins. The woman returns with his dry cleaning and they go through payment as you let the anger boil inside of you. He is oblivious to the metaphorical bombs going off inside your body. You stare a hole into the man’s head as you spit out “My husband is fucking dead.” 

You turn to leave and don’t look back, not giving him a chance to process your revelation. He makes the connection a moment too late, but he’s quick to catch up with you in the parking lot, this time speaking English. “Ma’am please let me apologize. I didn’t realize...” 

You continue walking to your car; you don’t want to look at him again. “I don’t need an apology from you. It doesn’t matter.” 

“Please, I had no idea. I was trying to make small talk; I never would have said that-“

You whir around and glare at him. You were done. “I get it, okay? Just stop feeling sorry for me already. I’m tired of it. Thank you for waiting in line for me. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a fucking funeral to plan.” The words come flying out and with each new sentence, you see him recoil again and again. His eyes are full of remorse and... understanding? You hold his gaze longer than you wanted to, and time stands still. What are you doing?

You’re fumbling with your keys, trying to manage the electronic key fob to unlock your car. He takes this opportunity to scribble some words and numbers on a paper he has clumsily fished out of one of his many uniform pockets and extends it out to you. Is he really trying to give you his number right now?! You’d be really flattered that a man this attractive is making a pass at you, if you hadn’t, you know, just told him your husband fucking died. You furrow your brows and roll your eyes, ready to chew him out again. 

“Here, this is the name and address for a group therapy session on post for people who have gone through recent loss. We meet on Thursdays. I don’t know how much longer you’ll be in Korea, but you’d be welcome. I promise.”

You just stare at him dumbly, unable to process this information. Therapy? You’d been given so many pamphlets on loss that it made your head spin. The only thing that thoughts of therapy has done for you in the past week has brought up terrible associations.

“Please. Take it.”

His eyes are pleading. You can’t bear to see the desperation any longer. Breaking away from his heavy gaze, you take the scrap of paper. With one last thank you, you get in your sedan, throw the dry cleaning into the passenger seat, and lock the doors. 

With your head in your hands, you start to cry again. Why do you have to be so mean? Thinking of the man, you turn to look in the rear-view mirror with a gentle hope that he’s still behind your car. You don’t know why you’re disappointed when he isn’t.

Thursday is tomorrow. You can make it until then.

[nessabear05]

A Day To Remember, a Nea x Yui Oneshot

#2k21BVryKnd

#SilverRescueTeam

#SRT

This is a commission collab I did with my friend Fizzie! Basically, we came up with the idea that we give each other characters and a third or first-person POV to go off of, and we write a story just based on those. She posted hers a day or so ago, so go check it out and give it some love!

Fizzie’s Story: http://aminoapps.com/p/u8pxte

Keep in mind…she doesn’t know the plot ;) But I decided with the number of characters she gave me, I would do an AU where they just have a girl’s day! She gave me Nea, Yui, Laurie, Claudette, and Meg to work with! Hope you enjoy girl!

Also uh....had to add a little side ship of your OTP since I know how much you like Quendette :)

Word Count: 1,929

━━━━━⊱✿⊰━━━━━━

The weather was perfect today. The sun was shining, no clouds to be seen...it was just a great day to get out and do something. And that’s exactly what this group of friends was doing. But they weren’t going out just as a last-minute thing, this was all planned out months in advance. And it was going to happen no matter the conditions.

Why so dead set on going out? Well, today was an extremely special day for two girls, in particular, those girls being Nea and Yui. The two had been dating for...well what seemed like forever. But they had been dating for around four years maybe? Ever since the beginning of college. And well...within the next couple of days, they were going to get married. And who else would be a part of their wedding if not their group of friends they had been with basically since they were children?

Now, things weren’t always great for this group of girls, but honestly, it always worked out in the end. And today would hopefully be no different. The five of them were just supposed to go out and get their nails done, then go to lunch afterward. And it was all supposed to go according to plan, but you know, nothing could ever go perfect, especially not with this group.

━━━━━⊱✿⊰━━━━━━

It had all started this morning, and can you guess who the first one to screw up was? If you guessed Nea, you would be correct. The girl had forgotten to set her alarm the previous night, and Yui had gone to spend the night with some of her old friends from Japan that had flown down to America for the wedding of their friend. They had stayed at the hotel, but they weren’t coming with them to get their nails done today. Since it was just going to be the two bridal parties together.

And as anyone could have guessed, Yui was not that happy to find out that Nea had forgotten an alarm on a pretty special day. But, Nea had apologized profusely as she ran around the house quickly getting changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt, all while their three friends Laurie, Meg, and Claudette giggled at the couple’s antics. The lack of Nea being prepared did not make them late though, so that was a little bit of a bonus to the shitty beginning of the day.

━━━━━⊱✿⊰━━━━━━

When they arrived at the nail salon, everyone was no doubt, excited. Nea was talking with Meg and Claudette as they walked in, trying to decide on a matching color. Since the two were her bridesmaids, she wanted to make sure she picked out something they all liked. In the end, they had decided on a pretty light pink color. Since Nea’s dress was white, sticking with the traditional way of things. Well, as traditional as you could get with a lesbian wedding that is. The pink would match really well with the bright white gown.

Yui on the other hand was supposed to wear a white kimono, sticking with her traditional Japanese ways. She had a pink and white floral uchikake for the reception afterward, something her grandmother had worn at her own wedding, a garment Yui absolutely adored ever since she was a child. Now….she would get to marry the love of her life in it.

Laurie was her bridesmaid, being closer to the older woman than Nea’s two other friends. And they had both decided on a beige color for their nails, thinking it would look good with the white and the pink. Which, funny enough, were the colors for the decorations the two women had decided to be their main decor of the ceremony.

━━━━━⊱✿⊰━━━━━━

As they walked inside the salon, there weren’t a lot of people there, maybe like….two others? Since it was still pretty early, but since they were getting both nails and feet done, they didn’t want to be there super late in the day when more people would start popping up. Common decency at its finest.

They were lead to sit down by a worker after picking out a polish from the walls, deciding to get acrylics for their hands with gel polish instead of normal polish, so it would stick on longer. And...quite a few of them had short nails, mostly because of their jobs. Yui was a mechanic since she always loved bikes and cars, things like that. Nea was a painter, but not a normal one. She got paid to do graffiti art on bridges and such, something to make the town more lively.

Meg was a semi-professional athlete. She wasn’t too well known, but she made a pretty good amount of money. Laurie was a childcare worker, working at a school and her nails broke easily around young children, she had come to learn that the hard way. And Claudette was a doctor, and she didn’t want to accidentally be poking people with her nails all too often through the gloves she wore. So needless to say, they didn’t get to have nice long nails like some girls a lot of the time and wanted to make sure they stayed on for the amount of time they could have them.

━━━━━⊱✿⊰━━━━━━

They were sat down in the chairs to get their toes done first, one of the workers bringing over five glasses of champagne for them, one for each girl. And since they were all over twenty-one, they accepted it gratefully. Claudette wasn’t much of a drinker, but she would make an exception for this. It was a pretty special day after all, and she had taken off work for the next two days for the wedding.

Honestly, most of them had forgotten what it was like to just...be pampered like they were. It was honestly something they weren’t able to do often, being adults and such now with jobs to worry about. So it was relaxing while they just chatted, laughed, drank, and got their nails done. They did have a little incident where Meg almost kicked the nail stylist because the red-head was very much ticklish, but it didn’t seem to phase the person working on her. Only waving it off with a chuckle and saying it happens all the time.

━━━━━⊱✿⊰━━━━━━

They were there probably around….three and a half hours? Mostly because despite the early time of day, a lot of people seemed to come in quickly, and the girls had to wait to get their hands done. But, nonetheless, it was worth the wait, and the five females were very happy with how everything turned out.

Though they didn’t condone drinking and driving, Claudette didn’t really like the champagne, and only ended up drinking two or so sips before she couldn’t do it anymore, finding the taste too strong without a chaser. And Nea was more than willing to finish it off for the smaller girl.

This also meant Claudette was now their driver for going off to lunch. So, they all piled into Laurie’s car, Laurie in the front with Claudette while the other three sat in the back, Nea and Yui sitting beside each other holding hands while Meg stared out the window, asking where they were going for the thousandth time since they left the salon. And the answer was the same each time. It was some little small-town restaurant that Claudette’s boyfriend, Quentin, owned. So not only would they get a discount, but he made pretty awesome food.

━━━━━⊱✿⊰━━━━━━

It didn’t take long to get there, the place only slightly packed for the rush hour of lunchtime. And they quickly got out of the car, heading inside while chatting, obviously having to tease Claudette about coming to the place her boyfriend worked at.

As they walked inside, they spotted the curly-haired brunette behind the diner immediately. He had on his usual bright smile, his smile only growing bigger when he saw the five walk in, but it was definitely aimed towards Claudette.

“Hey, guys! Welcome in and have a seat wherever you want. I trust you guys to not take any unneeded space,” he said, more concentrated on the plates of food he was currently trying to carry. Quentin had changed a lot since high school. He wasn’t as shy as he used to be, and he had grown a lot taller almost six feet, and his hair had grown out a little longer. Needless to say, Claudette made a really good choice when she decided to start dating the nerdy kid.

The five took a seat at a booth, Meg, Laurie, and Claudette on one side with Nea and Yui on the other sitting beside each other. They chatted as they waited patiently for Quentin to come over to take their order, the boy handing off the plates of food to his co-worker, and ex-girlfriend Nancy. They had ended off on good terms, Quentin finding out he was into Claudette. And Nancy was totally fine with that, considering she and Quentin had been friends since childhood.

When he did come over, he let his customer service facade drop, his smile still there but seeming just a little less fake. He leaned down to press a quick kiss against Claudette’s cheek, causing the girl to giggle quietly and her friends to coo at her, “Alright….I’m guessing you all want the usual? Tea for you babe, water for Laurie, Sprite for Meg, iced tea for Yui, and a coke for Nea?” he asked, earning nods and smiles from the five girls. He wrote it down and walked off quickly, not before giving a quick congratulations to Yui and Nea. He hadn’t had much time to see them running his diner. One that his friend Steve had said he should open and most of his friends had pressured him into it. It was one of the best decisions of his life if he was entirely honest.

━━━━━⊱✿⊰━━━━━━

They sat and chatted for an hour or so, eating the food that was paid for by Quentin, despite the objections of everyone at the table. But, the brunette was kind that way...even if he was a little more than annoyed when he saw the tip left for him by the five women. Since the day was over, Claudette was going to drive everyone home with Laurie’s car, and Quen would pick her up when he was done with work in a couple more hours.

Nea and Yui were the first to be dropped off since their house was the closest, the engaged couple giving hugs and promises of seeing them tomorrow bright and early to go to where their wedding ceremony was supposed to be held. And after the goodbye’s, waved as they watched their three friends drive off down the road.

Nea turned to her smaller fiance, a small smile on her face as she slipped her arms around the woman’s waist, pulling her closer and pressing a kiss against her forehead, “I ever tell you how much I love you?” she asked with a small tilt of her head, and Yui could only giggle at Nea’s antics.

“You say it all the time darling....but I guess there’s nothing wrong with hearing it again..” she told her as she leaned up, arms wrapping around her shoulders to kiss her properly, lips pressed firmly against Nea’s. If this is what she was getting for the rest of her life, well, then she got pretty damn lucky.

[coeurdastronaute]

Either/Or: WWC

“Jess?” 

“Yes, Ms. Luthor?” 

Squinting behind her glasses, the CEO peered at her schedule on her computer screen and furrowed as she read, but failed to comprehend the words under the seven o’clock time slot that seemed to take up majority of her evening. There should have been nothing there. She carefully kept track of every second, trusted her secretary to do the same, and suddenly, she had to be somewhere on a night when she could have been home. 

Leaning back in her chair, Lena Luthor scrolled and clicked on the offending task highlighted in a deep forest green. National City FC. 

National City Fire Council?

National City Financial Committee?

National City Freedom Conference?

“What the hell is National City FC, and why is it taking up 3 hours of my evening?” 

“The team you had us buy a few months ago. It’s their home opener.” the secretary explained, filing a few things in the drawer in the closet in Lena’s office. 

She didn’t bat an eye at such questions. It was her job to know those things, to take care of things, like when her boss came in with a circled article from her ride into the office, and told Jess to fix it. This somehow included a struggling council measure to bring another sports team to the city and help the underfunded women’s program develop. 

There were no follow up questions to how it got done, as Lena was immediately onto the next thing, but for Jess, there were hours spent meeting with officials and the in-house entertainment division to see how accumulating a women’s soccer team would diversify their holdings. This meant weeks pouring over spreadsheets and crunching numbers until the small team that was created for just this singular task, that again, came from a circled three inches of newspaper print, developed a plan to make it a success. 

“What did I do?” Lena asked, looking up from her computer as her assistant continued her work of pulling and rearranging to prepare for end of month reports. 

“You gave me an article about how the city wanted a team but couldn’t drum up the money to commit, and they were going to lose the bid for an expansion team.” 

“That sounds somewhat familiar.”

“You said that expansion and bringing professionals into the city was how we continued to grow.” 

“I’m sure I did.” 

Quickly, Lena googled the team and found a few headlines praising the companies initiative to help grown equality within the sport, to bring jobs and joy to the community, to expand programs for children and sports, to bring a championship to the city. It was all news to her but still made her smile. 

“I put together a team who did everything from polling to scouting locations to permits and projections,” Jess explained as Lena scrolled. “You helped pick out the colors and design the logo.” 

“I did?” 

“No,” she chuckled. “I did all of that. It’s been my pet project. I played in college, you know.” 

The webpage was green, deep and royal. A white logo with the crest of the city and an outline of a roaring bear over it sat in the corner. The banner had the team picture with rows of tough and smiling girls looking back. A schedule followed and links to tickets. It was an actual thing. 

“You did all of this?” 

“I delegated,” Jess explained, handing over a folder. “Take a look at this so you have your talking points.”

“This got past the board?” 

“A bit of community outreach, your name on the field, the logo on the jerseys, community services, tax breaks, and city-wide gratitude. It went a long way, and was a sound investment, set to see returns as early as six years.” 

“Are you sure you don’t want that promotion?” 

“I’ll just take another raise,” the secretary smiled as her boss looked over the papers in the folder. 

“This still doesn’t explain why it’s on my schedule though,” Lena decided, closing it and laying it back on her desk. 

“It’s the inaugural game. You have to go show your support.” 

“I don’t like sports,” she reminded her. “That’s why I created an entire division of this company to manage such things.” 

“You wanted more photo ops, and I’m creating that moment for you.” 

Jess was right, which was something Lena still wasn’t particularly fond of admitting. Ever since her brother’s implosion and her ascendence to help the company two years ago, it felt as if her full-time job wasn’t being a CEO but rather a figure head looking to make people believe that she was just as strong, just as capable, just as, if not moreso, credible as the leader of a multi-billion dollar organization. 

Lena looked back at the file on her desk and sighed, invariably giving in. 

“Fine, but I’m not going to wear a jer--”

Smiling, Jess held up her personal jersey with DANVERS printed in big white letters over the number eleven. She wiggled her eyebrows and tried to hide her amusement. 

“It’s to support the team.” 

“That’s not even my name.” 

“You don’t play for them, just own the team. You don’t get your own name on it.” 

“I couldn’t get a custom one? I don’t even know who that is.” 

“This is your star player, Kara Danvers. Got her in the expansion draft. She’s amazing. Led the league in scoring the past three years, only been in it for four.” 

“This is soccer, right?” 

With a heavy sigh, Jess tossed the jersey across the desk. 

“Keep reading. I’ll have the car here at six.” 

Lena smiled to herself as she held up the jersey, happy to have her name on it anyway with the logo of the rebranded L Corp. She never got used to seeing that, her accomplishments come to fruition. Somehow she accidentally bought a sports team, and though she wasn’t thrilled about having to spend her evening not at home on the couch, she was excited to see what her assistant created, excited to have done something for the city she grew to call home. 

Not the biggest sports fan on the planet, Lena looked back at the screen with the team on it and found number eleven and gulped slightly, deciding that sports couldn’t be that bad. 

XXXXXXXXX

The music blasted in the headphones, so loudly that nothing else could be heard, not even a thundering heartbeat or heavy breathing. The world and its honks and horns and yelling and voices and city chatter completely disappeared to nothing outside of the stadium, outside of the pitch of fresh grass. 

Before the first fan would be welcomed, before they thrust open the grates on the concession stands, before the lights were tested and left on, a single player began her routine, sitting in the stands alone and taking in the world around her, as soon it would be chaos-- screaming people on the sidelines, lines calling changes and plays in the heat of the moment, chirping from those coming to disrupt her home. The soccer player’s head nodded to the beat of the song as she prepared, washing the rest of it away and focusing, centering herself. 

The stadium was beginning to breathe again, with works appearing, setting up for the sell-out crowd. By the time the first few teammates began to filter out to warm up, Kara was warming up, making her way from side to side with a light jog, stretching muscles and coming back from her solitary centering. 

“Are you getting nervous yet?” Nia asked as she sat on the ground, working hamstrings into something more tenable. 

“I’m getting excited,” Kara corrected. 

She was a leader on the team, and she took the responsibility very seriously. That included measuring her responses for the younger teammates, making sure that she was always on. It also meant that she played her heart out and left every ounce of energy on the field. She was going to lead the league again. She was going to keep her national team spot. She was going to accomplish great things, just as her parents always told her. 

“I’m getting nervous,” her teammate confessed. “Sarah Lance is a terrifying defender. And Foster is a sniper.” 

“But you’re Nia Nal,” Kara smiled, helping to pull her goaltender up. She didn’t let her escape though. She held her shoulders in her hands and gave her an intense look. “You are a brick wall. You are unstoppable. You are a fortress. That’s your goal, and no one is going to score today.” 

“I know.” 

“I don’t think you do,” the captain disagreed, grinning a little wider now. “Hey, Allen, tell Nal what she is.” 

From over her shoulder another teammate immediately chimed in. 

“Nia Nal is a force to be reckoned with! She’s not allowing one point this entire year.” 

“See that?” Kara grinned, turning back to her goalie. “Everyone already knows it.” 

“I know,” Nia nodded, a little less worried and a little more serious. 

“Good. Let’s run some drills. I’m no Foster, but I’ll try to make it hard for you.” 

Leadership was a role Kara felt both thrust upon her and eager taken up, as if it were second nature. She didn’t think about it, not directly, but often her time was spent planning her moves within the team to make them successful. It showed on the field. 

On the pitch though, Kara was completely untouchable. She was focused on her goals and she was ready for anything. She was the captain, the heart, the everything for her team, and she gave her all because for so long it was all she had. 

“Danvers, lets go,” the coach’s voice called as the player finished getting ready, completing the final tasks of her routine. “I need you for some press stuff.” 

“I thought that was after,” Kara furrowed as she trotted over to Cat Grant as the rest of the team finished up in the locker room. 

“Opening day means a lot of parading around,” she explained as they walked through the corridor. “You know this team is precarious at best. We have to do everything we can to appease the money bags.”

“I was going to do some appeasing on the scoreboard. Try to put on a show.” 

“If you could do both, I’d appreciate it.” 

“You know I can.” 

With a comparable grin, Cat nodded and tugged open a door that led to a lobby area, where post game interviews would be held, where the team would meet before the huddle, only this time it was nearly empty save for two women. 

“Ms. Luthor,” Cat held out her hand as she approached the striking woman that Kara was stuck staring at. “It’s an honor to have you out here to see our first game.” 

“I’ve heard you’ve done amazing things. I’m excited to watch,” she smiled back, clasping Grant’s hand with both of hers. 

Dimples were there, right on her cheeks. There was also red lipstick. Cherry red and full on the lips. And her eyes. The green of the jersey was absolutely perfect for making her eyes seem like never-ending forests. Kara cleared her throat when she remembered to swallow and looked away from her face quickly, afraid of gawking too long, though her own cheeks grew a bit warm with the observations. The problem was that looking anywhere else was just as bad. Skin-tight black jeans betrayed hips, and the jersey was enough to not hide her chest, and Kara wanted to pluck out her own eyeballs. 

While she introduced her assistant, Kara looked helplessly at the door and shifted on her feet, hoping to avoid the weird feeling in her chest and head. 

“This is one of our stars, Kara Danvers. She’ll be doing some press with you after the game, so I thought it’d be better to look as if you’ve met before.”

“Good thinking,” Lena smiled and held out her hand. “It’s a pleasure.”

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Kara nodded, curt and polite enough, the handshake not lasting very long. 

“I will confess I don’t know much about soccer, but I’ve done my research on you,” the money explained. “Jess was telling me how brilliant you are, and I’m excited for you to share your talent with the city.” 

“Me? Yes, um. I am as well. Excited. I love this city. My second home it is.”

With a funny look on her face, Lena just nodded and turned back to the coach, her glance following a beat later as Kara looked away, her cheeks full firetrucks. 

“I wont interrupt anymore of your prep time,” Lena explained. “Thank you Cat.” 

“Enjoy the view from the owner’s box.” 

“I get one of those?” Lena asked, her voice going a little low as she asked her assistant. 

Kara lingered for a moment as her coach made her way back toward the lock eroom to prepare. She met Lena’s lok and offered another shy smile before hurring to turn around. 

“See you later,” she offered and cringed as she turned around. 

The entire walk back to the locker room, Kara hung her head, oddly confused about the very short but very weird meeting. She didn’t know what to do or what she had done, just that she had a game to win and now knew that Lena Luthor existed. 

XXXXXXXXXXX

“Good evening National City!” the CEO cheered from the edge of the pitch, a giant television of herself played just behind her for everyone to see in the sold out crowd. 

The sun was beginning to set behind the city, the stadium sitting on the edge of the water with a view of the skyline and the lake behind it. It was all so new and clean and nice, that Lena took a little bit of pride in the fact hat she had some hand to play in it all even if she wan’t acutely aware of it. 

“I am so happy to introduce you to your National City FC!” 

The crowd roared again as she smiled into the microphone and surveyed the edge of the field with the waiting players and their tiny equivalents. 

“It has been an honor to be part of bringing the next great franchise to our wonderful city, and I know these women are going to make you all so proud!” 

The cheering was awfully addicting, and Lena was going to try to figure out how to get twenty thousand people to follow her around and agree with everything she said. 

“What do you say we get this inaugural season underway?” 

Lena smiled and waved, handing over the microphone to the emcee. The deep voice began to introduce the team as the owner walked off of the field toward her assistant who smiled, much too knowledgeable about the fact that her boss was actually having fun despite her inability to admit it. 

“You looked good out there,” Jess nodded as Lena stood beside her, shielding her eyes from the squint of the sun as she looked at her team. 

“Sports aren’t that bad,” Lena shrugged. 

Despite herself, the CEO found Kara Danvers in the lineup, a little girl standing before her as they did the anthem and introductions. Even though everyone was quiet and preparing for the game, the little girl was antsy. Kara held her hands and lifted her up slightly, swinging her a bit, her shoulders and biceps straining. Lena swallowed as she watched Kara giggle with the little girl, and wondered how someone could exist that was insanely hot and also a big old goober. It didn’t seem fair. 

“Let’s get to the box,” Jess offered, interrupting the absolute dehydration Lena was experiencing and hoping to hide. “We can go over some of the basics and I can finish explaining the strategy.” 

“I trust your judgement, but I should learn a few things for press. This is going to take a lot more of my face than previous expected, I guess?” 

“I was hoping a few showings of your face, and if we win, we’ll solidify the team. National City is lacking a prestigious championship caliber team.”

On the field, Kara hopped slightly before stretching out her legs and getting out the jitters. Hair pulled back tightly, her armband meant she was the captain, and she commanded her team with precision. 

“Is this our first championship team?” 

“I think so.” 

“This is a much more enjoyable investment than all those property deals and some of those research labs I have to hear about.” 

“Says the engineer?” 

“It pains me to admit it.” 

The whistle blew and Kara sprinted out, capturing the ball and immediately making her way toward the other goal. Lena’s heart jumped into her throat at the sheer force and speed of it all before she allowed Jess to tug her back to her box. 

“How much do you know about Kara Danvers?” Lena asked, hoping it as subtle enough to be taken as small talk. 

“It’s all in the folders.” 

The CEO nodded as the elevator ascended, and she didn’t dare to chance a look at her secretary. 

XXXXXXXXXX

No matter how many times she played, the adrenaline from a game was still mildly addicting. No matter how many goals she scored, the elation of scoring another was a fix that Kara Danvers chased perpetually. Nothing compared to it. 

After the final whistle blew though, after the game ended and there was nothing left to give, she found herself full of these things, and no matter how tired her muscles and body became, the high was slow to come down from. It did make everything happen quicker though, and somehow, not long after winning, and a hat trick under her belt, Kara found herself seated in the media room with the team logo behind her and her new owner beside her. 

“You must be fairly happy with the game tonight,” one reporter began, “any worries about the team as a whole that you will be working on this week at practice?” 

“We’re always looking to be better, and I can’t say we were flawless, but I’m so excited for where we’re at as a team, that I’m just going to bask for the evening before we get back to work in the morning.” 

The group chuckled slightly as the PR director called on the next hand. 

“Ms. Luthor, how important was it for this team to get a win tonight? Was it validation for your involvement? Vindication maybe for all the naysayers who were against the expansion?” 

“I can honestly say I haven’t paid any attention to anyone who was against this project,” Lena smiled as she earned a laugh from the audience. “It’s important to win as many games as possible for any team, let alone this team. We have a lot to prove as the new kids on the block, but I think Ms. Danvers is right, and we should celebrate and come back ready to continue in the morning.” 

For the life of her, Kara wasn’t sure why the mention of her name or the corresponding look from Lena made the tips of her ears burn, but she smiled awkwardly and tried to ignore it. 

“Ms. Luthor, what made you invest in this team and this  opportunity?” 

“The excitement in my advisor’s face when she talked about the team,” the CEO explained, nodding to the woman Kara didn’t remember officially meeting. “I can’t take credit for doing much more except being completely taken with Kara.” 

The player snapped to look at the CEO for the pause that seemed to last much too long. 

“Wait,” Lena shook her head and laughed. “Kara and her team. The sport really. The little girls that come out with the team. My advisor was one of those little girls, and she is now one of the most admirable and driven people I have ever met. If a team like this can give her joy and hope, imagine what it can do for all of the other little girls.” 

“How does it feel to have the most powerful woman in the world behind you, Kara?” 

“I’m quite taken by it,” she offered humbly with a smile, earning a laugh from the group and Lena in particular. “To be honest though, it is a truly empowering fact. To have someone with such kindness and tenacity as an example, it’s amazing.”

The pair shared a smile, and Kara looked back at the crowd, preparing for the next question.

next

[nikibogwater]

A Shot in the Dark: Chapter 2 (Author’s Commentary--pt. 2)

Read the fic here

Author’s Commentary pt 1

General Notes:

So this is the second part of my personal notes on Chapter 2. I had so much to say about Rivan as a character and his dynamic with Douxie that it ended up needing its own post. So pt 1 of the commentary was all about Douxie, Nari, and Archie’s scenes, while this part is exclusively about the antagonist introduced in this chapter. I don’t expect tons of people to be super interested in Rivan--he’s an original character whose purpose in the narrative is simply to give the protagonists a hard time, but even so, I put a lot of thought into creating him, and I had some notes. So...yeah, here they are. 

Rivan is probably the second most self-indulgent part of this story (the MOST self-indulgent thing is yet to come lol). He was my opportunity to craft a villain with all of the traits that appeal to me in such a character. He’s conventionally attractive, scarily adept at his job, calm, self-assured, and so freaking polite. The best part about creating him was the fact that I didn’t have to worry about giving him an agenda. Rivan’s not trying to change the world or force his misguided ideals on anyone. He’s just trying to do his job, get paid, and go home. He treats his career in bounty-hunting like it’s your average blue-collar job. While he has an excellent work ethic and wants to maintain a good business reputation, at the end of the day, it’s still just his job, and nothing more. The only thing that keeps Rivan from being a true Neutral is the fact that he's associating with the Lawful Evil. But as long as he gets his money, that’s all he cares about (maybe someone should’ve told him that the Arcane Order are more likely to kill him than pay him). He’s a Tired Soul who has been walking this cruel earth for far too long, and run out of things to live for.

Passage-Specific Notes:

The man in question certainly didn’t look particularly threatening. In fact, he looked like the kind of person Douxie would find unbearably dull, all business and academia and such. He lacked any trace of youthful energy or optimism, though his physical appearance suggested that he wasn’t a day past twenty-five.

In case any of you were wondering, I did do a rough conceptual doodle of Rivan’s general appearance:

Not my best, but it helped me nail down his prominent features. Also Fun Fact: Rivan has a professional fashion consultant who helps him with his wardrobe. Whoever that person is, Rivan probably trusts them more than anyone else, if he’s confident that they’re not sending him out in some kind of clown costume.

“Forest-child? I think you’re in the wrong city, mate,” Douxie chuckled, his fingers twitching with the desire to activate his magic vambrace. “At least, I’ve never heard of anyone like that. Certainly not here in the Big Apple.”

“...Haven’t you?” Rivan’s tone was irritatingly polite, as was the inquisitive head tilt that accompanied his words.

Rivan disarms Douxie in more ways than one. Writing their interactions was a bit tricky, because Douxie’s first line of defense when it comes to villains is his speech--he can be smooth and persuasive, or sassy and infuriating. But there’s no persuading Rivan here, and it’s harder to sass someone who is being perfectly polite. And Rivan is not the type to be infuriated, even by an upstart little punk wizard. So Douxie loses his first weapon mere seconds into their first interaction, which is why he starts to get genuinely snippy towards the end of the scene. 

“Mr. Casperan--” Rivan paused and turned his head in Douxie’s direction, though Douxie got the strange feeling that the man was not really looking at him from behind those sunglasses. “That is your name, right? That’s the name my employers gave me, at any rate...”

One of the first things I decided upon when it came to writing Rivan and Douxie’s interactions was that Rivan always sounds just a little like an exhausted customer service worker trying to placate a Karen. 

“...As for seeing...” Rivan sauntered over to Douxie and slipped off his sunglasses. The area around Rivan’s eyes was burned and scarred over, red, bumpy flesh stretched across the permanently sealed lids. Douxie forced himself to swallow the bile that rose in his throat. “...I’m afraid I haven’t done much of that--at least, not with my eyes--since the late nine-hundreds, when your kind attempted to wipe the Shades from the earth.”

I was actually kind of hesitant to incorporate Rivan’s handicap into this story, because that’s the kind of thing people can be sensitive about, and I wasn’t real keen on accidentally hurting someone’s feelings. But my beta reader told me to go for it--his disability is an integral part of his character and a crucial element in shaping how the plot unfolds. And since this is a fantasy, I wasn’t completely bound by the laws of real-world accuracy--Rivan can’t see anything with his physical eyes, but his specialized magic allows him to “see” the world around him almost just as well. I also like the fact that, in spite of what happened to him, Rivan has kept pushing on, becoming a successful bounty-hunter even in the face of seemingly opposing odds. There have definitely been times where targets managed to give him the slip for a few days because of his lack of physical sight, but he always persevered and still managed to bring them in at the end of the day. He may lack empathy and passion, but he’s a trooper, and he doesn’t let what happened to him keep him from succeeding. 

So that’s all for Chapter 2. Next week, the conclusion! Thank you all for reading (and again...I’m so sorry!). 😅

[phantom-le6]

Film Review - Mulan (2020)

As I noted in my previous film review for The New Mutants, I’ve temporarily postponed working through a backlog of TV show reviews to tackle a couple more film reviews.  With The New Mutants having been the first of those two films, I now give you my review for the second, which is the live-action remake of the Disney classic Mulan…

Plot (adapted from Wikipedia):

In Imperial China, Hua Mulan is an adventurous and active girl to the disappointment of her parents, who hope that one day she will be wed to a good husband. As a young woman, Mulan is forced to meet with a matchmaker to demonstrate her fitness as a future wife. Mulan, flustered, attempts to pour tea in front of the matchmaker, but a spider causes a panic from her little sister Xiu, accidentally causing a mishap that destroys the kettle, leading the matchmaker to call her a disgrace in front of her family.

To the north, an imperial outpost is invaded by Rouran warriors, under the leadership of Böri Khan. They are assisted by the witch Xianniang, who uses her magic to pose as a surviving soldier and report the attack to the Emperor of China; he then issues a conscription decree ordering every family to contribute one man to fight Khan's forces.

Imperial soldiers arrive in Mulan's village to enlist recruits and her father Hua Zhou is forced to pledge his service as he has no sons, immediately keeling over in front of the soldiers due to his bad leg. Realizing that her father has no chance of survival, Mulan flees with his armor, horse, and sword to join in his place. Mulan arrives at the training camp, which is run by Commander Tung, an old comrade of Hua Zhou. Alongside dozens of other inexperienced recruits, she ultimately becomes a trained soldier under his tutelage without exposing her true identity.

The Khan's army continues to advance, forcing Tung to end training early and send his battalion to fight. Mulan chases some troops on her own, but is confronted by Xianniang, who mocks her for pretending to be a man. She attempts to kill Mulan, but her attacks are stopped by the leather with which Mulan's chest had been bound to hide her identity. Mulan removes her male disguise, returning to the battle just as the Rourans begin attacking her fellow troops with a trebuchet. Mulan uses discarded helmets and her archery skills to maneuver the trebuchet into firing on a snowy mountain, triggering an avalanche that buries the Rourans.

Mulan rides back to camp and rescues Chen Honghui, a soldier she befriended in camp. Unable to hide her true gender any longer, she is expelled from the army and begins her return home. On her way, she is confronted by Xianniang, who reveals that she was also shunned by her people and fights for Böri Khan only because he treats her as an equal and that no one else does. Additionally, she reveals that the attacks on the outposts have been a diversion, as Khan's true plan is to capture and execute the Emperor for having his father killed. Risking execution, Mulan returns to her battalion to warn them of the impending capture. Tung decides to believe her, and allows her to lead a unit to the Emperor's palace. 

Xianniang uses her magic to assume the appearance of the Imperial Chancellor and persuades the Emperor to accept Böri Khan's challenge to single combat, while removing the city guards from their posts. The guards are murdered, and the Rourans prepare to burn the Emperor alive. Mulan's unit distracts the Rourans while Mulan goes to save the Emperor. Khan tries to snipe her with an arrow, but Xianniang, sympathetic to Mulan and disenchanted from Khan, transforms into a bird and sacrifices herself by intercepting the arrow. Mulan kills Khan, but not before he disarms her and destroys her father's sword. She frees the Emperor, who offers to let her join his personal guard. She declines the offer and returns to her village. 

Mulan is reunited with her family. An emissary from the Emperor, under the leadership of Commander Tung, arrives to present Mulan with a new sword, while making a personal request that she join the Emperor's Guard.

Review:

Apparently, this film got really slated by Chinese audiences for numerous historical and cultural mishandlings and errors, so before I get into looking at the film itself, I’d like to point out something about Disney films in general.  News flash, ladies and gentlemen, most of them are not original stories; the majority are based on historical legends, folk tales, fairy tales and story books, and not a single one will ever be spot on to what it was before.  Frozen?  A very loose adaptation of Hans Christian Anderson’s story The Snow Queen.  Snow White?  The original version of that story would read more like a horror film than children’s animation.  101 Dalmatians?  The Disney animated feature is very dumbed down and stream-lined compared to the novel. Given this, no one should expect any Disney film to be historically or culturally spot-on.  This is what Disney does, and always has done, and you have to keep that in mind every time you watch these films.  Plus, films are by their very nature made up, even when based on true stories.  Cultural and historical accuracy is what documentaries are for. 

Now, having said all this with regard to managing one’s expectations of Mulan in terms of its historical and cultural inaccuracies, I’d also like to point out that while the film is by and large a remake of the Disney animated classic, it’s not a remake like we’ve seen from Disney before now.  With the likes of Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin and the Lion King, the films have been adapted in a way that preserves the basic genre, plot and overall identity of the original film, simply adding to or adjusting as necessary to make the film effective in a photo-realistic format.  With Mulan, however, the remake focuses more on Mulan’s struggle in having to go off to war and become a solider, so this martial arts war film aspect ends up removing the musical aspect of the film, though fans of the original film will recognise variants on key songs within the score of the film. 

To my mind, taking out the musical elements and a degree of the cartoonish comedy through the elimination of Mushu was a very good move.  War is a brutal, bloody business that isn’t an appropriate environment for characters to be breaking into big musical numbers in.  Even the animated version of Mulan understood this by keeping its musical numbers confined to Mulan’s civilian life and time as a trainee conscript. Once the soldiers were confronted by the aftermath of war near the end of that film’s second act, we don’t get another song until we’re going into the end credits. 

That being said, I do feel that the film starts poorly, with the various scenes of social awkwardness around the film’s start and middle, ranging from the matchmaker debacle to Mulan’s various efforts at pretending to be a man all being scenes I didn’t enjoy.  These weren’t so bad in the animated version (well, the matchmaker was, but I digress), and I think that’s because animation is a medium that slightly diffuses that kind of awkwardness in a scene.  In live action, it’s a bit too close to real life, and as an autistic person I have enough moments of social awkwardness in my own life; I don’t need to see it in the things I watch for purposes of escapism and general entertainment. 

However, outside of archaic marital customs and the worst soldier’s drag act since Hugh Laurie in the Blackadder Goes Forth episode ‘Major Star’, the film still has good points.  The film’s other scenes are well-acted by all concerned, the fight scenes are well-down and the scoring is very good.  I also like the addition of the witch character of Xianniang, and linking her to Mulan through the idea that it is showing a mastery of chi energy for combat despite being woman that causes ostracism for both women.  This adds to the underlying moral of gender equality that is the core of the Mulan story, from original legend to animated film and on into this live action remake.  In addition, the actress who voiced Mulan in the original animated film has a cameo in this film introducing Mulan to the Emperor near the end of the film, so we also have a rare ‘passing of the baton’ moment not common to Disney remakes. 

Overall, Disney has created a decent remake of Mulan despite the loss of its musical genre in favour of more action and a greater focus on the war element of the story.  It’s just unfortunate that, for me at least, the awkwardness of some scenes makes the film an uncomfortable thing to sit through during parts of the first two-thirds, especially given their importance to the overall plot and concept of the film.  Frankly, I think the makers of this film needed to find a substitute for the animation medium in terms of diffusing some of that social awkwardness, and frankly retention of a talking dragon might have helped a bit.  Overall, I’d probably give this remake about 7 out of 10.

[realtalkingpoints]

Opinion:  How social media and the Obama administration lead to the Impeachment of Donald Trump.

Placed historically, the real explosion in social media use occurred during the Obama administration. Advances in technology were allowing developers to create new platforms and new versions of old platforms faster and faster, each time learning from previous builds.  Big data was coming into it's prime, learning more about user habits than ever before. For the first time in history, millions and millions of people had not just cell phones in their pocket, but smart phones that could access the internet.  And cell phone services, along with internet capabilities were expanding to handle the new demand.  The Obama administration created subsidy programs offering low cost or no cost smart phones and service providers to low income households that qualify.  And apps for phones were developed, to be small versions of popular websites, to run fast, efficient, and anywhere people wanted to pull out their phones and surf them.  The stage was set for a social media explosion.

All different kinds of platforms were introduced.  We know the most popular ones, because they've gone viral and turned into the worlds most powerful platforms, and some are still growing.  Perhaps startups today, will topple the giants in tomorrows media fad. But what we know now, is that people love to chat with each other, and interact with each other in real time, at the speed of the internet, across continents.  People want to share stories and photos, promote businesses, and discuss the news of the day.  The people of the world have never had an exchange of information that was this fast, this easy, and this accessible to literally billions of people.  It was only a matter of time before news and politics moved at the pace of social media, and not the other way around.

Having not done or even read any case studies, and cannot conclusively say, but it seems obvious to me that younger generations were the first to adopt the internet, and social media.  If you have seniors in your life, it's no secret, that they struggle at times with internet technology.  The internet didn't even exist for most of their life, and now suddenly in twenty or thirty years its users have gone from thousands of college geeks and researchers, to billions of excited people trying to find one another.  Our youngest generations don't know a world without the internet, some don't know a world without smartphones, google or twitter.  And when a new platform idea comes along, even one with a seemingly silly name like 'Twitter', there's plenty of young people comfortable enough with internet and smart phone technology, to give it a try.  They don't fear the unknowns, the hacking and 'spying' and data collection that has the older generations so apprehensive. To the younger crowd, the worst that can happen is they don't like it and they delete the app.  But the good ones don't get deleted.  The ones that are effective at capturing people's attention with reality tv type stimulation and peer to peer interaction, grow exponentially into massive social media networks. According to my theory, the first massive waves of users were younger.

These days, younger means more progressive, more liberal in political leaning.  Their comfort level with the internet means they look there first to answer any question they might have, or for things the want to purchase.  They have developed a sense of enlightenment, confident that they can find instantly, the answer to any of life’s mysteries.  While waiting for a latte, while sitting on a bus, beach, or the couch at home, they can satisfying their deepest curiosities, and perhaps too often, accepting the veracity of the information delivered to them without question.  

It doesn't take a genius to see the gold mine of opportunity that influencers of all types saw in social media platforms.  Millions upon millions of young impressionable minds, looking for answers and perspective from their peers.  Advertisers and retailers have embraced the social media craze, inventing creative new strategies to reaching new customers, specially those willing to try something new.  It has literally created new industries because someone tried something, told their friends, and now everyone is selling it.  For example, what is 'goat yoga'?  Don't know, just google it.  Its a thing, it's out there, and it owes it's success to social media.  It's a revolution in the exchange of information like never before in history.  Before long, social media would also be recognized as an essential tool in the fight over politics.

How better to potentially reach millions and millions of people with your political message than to put it on social media, and allow people to share that idea just by clicking a button.  It's too easy.  In the 2008 Presidential election, Barack Obama harnessed the networking power of social media for the first time in a Presidential election.  Using still developing platforms like Twitter and Facebook, he connected with millions of young, progressive thinking voters, most of whom were willing to share his message with their peers. It was a major advantage to his campaign, since supporters of his opponent, John McCain were much older on average, and therefor much less likely to even be on social media.  It gave a free soapbox to Obama that was heard by millions and millions of progressive Americans, and it was virtually all his.  The voices of opposition just weren't there.  The hoards of young impressionable minds thought that everyone agreed with the exciting ideas they were hearing from an enthusiastic Barack Obama.  They had accidentally created their own media bubble of like minded, similarly motived, ideologues, all enjoying a strong confirmation bias.  Slowly, the older more conservative Americans did adopt social media platforms, but they had a lot of catching up to do.  When re-election came around, Obama's opponent in 2012, Mitt Romney made a modest effort to connect with supporters on social media.  Reporting at the time was something like $8 million by Romney vs $45 million spent by the Obama campaign on social media advertising.  It was clear, that the social media advantage was still firmly in the hands of the progressives, and the number of users was growing rapidly.

A skillful politician, Obama quickly learned how to generate large swells of social media activity to support his various agenda items.  I'm sure they had lots of data, certainly from intelligence agencies, about the habits of trending topics on social media.  Being the first American presidential administration to preside over a social media crazed nation, there must have been moments of epiphany with regards to the reaction(s) of social media communities on various policy decisions and press releases.  As Facebook has acknowledged, social media cause the Arab spring.  How much the Obama administration had to do with that is still up for debate.  Ideas were ready to go viral in their respective communities, they just needed to be put out there at the right time, by the right influential people.  

Just as politicians saw the obvious advantages to social media messaging, so did the press and news media.  Journalists would use their own social media accounts to post their news stories and build followings that would supplement their print or tv audiences.  I would assume the same principles apply, that younger more progressive journalists migrated toward the platforms first, giving them a jump on their older more conservative counterparts.  Furthermore, the fact that these platforms are presumed to be populated first with predominantly young progressives, the approval rate and popularity of ideas and stories reported by early journalists on social media is likely skewed towards liberalism.  Many of these young progressive reporters and the networks employing them rode the social media bubble to prominence and challenged their older more conservative colleagues on the national stage in popularity ratings, often successfully.  The result of this effect was a national news media that favored a  more progressive, liberal narrative.  An unfortunate side effect of this, was the reality that popularity of news stories among social media followers, not accuracy or factual reporting, was driving viewership ratings.  As news outlets realized that their new social media followers enjoyed stories about successful progressive policies and praise for the Obama administration, they began to build their staff and organizations around a strategy to deliver just that.  Seemingly out of no where, Obama became the darling of the liberal press and social media.  

The endless stream of positive feedback from the press and social media had it's effect on the Obama administration.  They soon realized that blunders and mistakes could get washed up in a circular round of praise and applause on other topics of the day, while the bad news went completely ignored by a majority of the news media.  Their audience simply didn't want to hear the bad news, so they just didn't report it.  Knowing their misdeeds would go largely forgiven by a lapdog media, the Obama administration began to push the norms of public approval with their progressive policies.  The highly controversial Affordable Care Act, was signed into law despite zero Republican votes for the package.  Republicans were waiving their hands in the isles of congress, shouting as loudly as they could that the math didn't work, and that millions of hard working middle class Americans were going to carry the burden of this bloated package.  But they didn't have the social media push or news media support to get their message out, and those Republicans were labeled as one of many hateful stereotypes by the social media mob. Other Obama moves like the targeting of conservative non-profit groups by the IRS during the 2012 presidential election, and the dreadful Iran deal, which should have received much media scrutiny, all got passing grades from news reporters and their social media echo chambers.

It was probably during Obama's second term, conservatives woke up to realize that social media was where the real conversation is.  Not that they hadn't been participating thus far, but as a whole, the conservatives had been sluggish to migrate toward social media platforms.  But watching liberalism taking over news media, and frightened for the future of their nation, conservatives began to challenge progressive liberals on social media in numbers large enough to cause a stir among their ranks.  And many of them reacted poorly.  Platforms that had long been safe spaces for liberal rants and conservative defamation were suddenly being challenged by patriotic Americans who showed up and said, 'I disagree, here's why, and here's the evidence'.  The young, progressive ideologues who had populated social media en masse had never needed evidence to back up their opinions, nor encountered such opposition to their group think, and began to lash out at their new critics.  Twitter battles flared, and for the first time, young progressive social media users were forced to examine their hardened ideals in the light of contradicting evidence.  But many of them had taken very public, emphatic positions based on liberal policies and news reporting that they had taken as gospel.  For many liberal ideologues, backing down from their stated positions was more injury than they could conceivably sustain, and instead would band together with their news media heroes to defend their proclaimed moral high ground at all costs.

Enter Donald Trump.  No stranger to the media spot light, real estate developer and reality tv star Donald Trump was a natural at using news media to reach the American public.  He saw the trends and recognized how to maximize his influence.  He grew his Twitter audience with constant engagement and used even bad press coverage to get his message out.  Much like Obama in 2008 and 2012, Trump used social media to achieve victory in the 2016 presidential election, this time by appealing to the millions of new, perhaps more conservative minded social media users, who felt alienated and bullied by the entrenched liberal social media mob.  The liberal reaction was swift and often unruly.  Think Women's March, Antifa, and Russia Collusion.  Unable to manifest their desired reality through social media and news stories, the liberals resorted to real world activism in an all out effort to undo an election result that they could not fathom.  They looked to their hero Obama and his collection of bureaucrats installed in the nation's intelligence community to dig for evidence that he had cheated the election.  We know now, that multiple efforts (likely underhanded in nature) to sabotage his election were underway.  The social media mob and their news media cohorts pushed relentlessly to add credibility to claims of Russian Collusion by the Trump campaign and worked 24/7 to drive incriminating headlines into the homes and minds of Americans.  Biased, partisan investigations lead to a special counsel investigation that progressives hoped would finally get the goods and rid them of the surprise President that had popped their media bubble paradise.  But this time, the social media push was from the right, and verifiable evidence of corruption and bias of investigators was plastered on social media for everyone to see.  Conservative news media had finally landed a foothold on social media platforms and began to tell its side of the story to an American public eager to hear some truth.  

Robert Mueller's special counsel investigation ended with no hard evidence that the Trump campaign colluded with Russians to cheat the 2016 election, delivering yet another heavy blow to liberal America, who had spent many years under Obama, assuming that their positions would always be supported by bureaucrats and news reports.  Trump blamed 'the deep state' for the internal attempts to sabotage his presidency.  He asked the DOJ inspector general to investigate the investigations that had targeted individuals from is campaign, and the IG report has confirmed, that many inside the FBI and DOJ were willing to bend or break the rules to obtain surveillance approvals on Trump campaign members.  This provided conservatives with yet another huge victory over their liberal activist counterparts, who still can't believe what is happening.  Many of the young progressives who had driven the political agenda through social media activity had never experienced a news cycle that they couldn't control with their activism.  And many liberal politicians and deep staters who relied on the media mob for support and cover for their potential misdeeds had never considered what they would do if suddenly all the negative news stories actually got printed.  Claims of political favoritism, liberal election rigging, and big money foreign policy peddling are now a daily occurrence, and both the politicians and the media mob are in a panic.

So that brings us to our current situation.  The liberal's last stronghold of power in American government resides in Nancy Pelosi and the House of Representatives.  They have engaged in partisan investigation after investigation, hoping to find something to re-ignite their liberal base, that would warrant the removal of Trump from office.  Impeachment.  Special counsel and IG investigations delivered reports that devastated the credibility of the liberal news media, along with politicians and intel personalities that still claim Trump is the one lying.  Seemingly out of nowhere, a whistleblower report lands on the desk of discredited intel committee chair Adam Schiff, that President Trump has been bribing the Ukrainian government to interfere in the 2020 presidential election by investigating Joe Biden.  Unable to stunt the flow of news and information the way they once had, media mob liberals are as aware as there rest of us, that the origins of said whistleblower complaint are highly questionable, and that there are credible allegations of Biden's mis-dealings in Ukraine.  Indeed, congressional impeachment hearings produced a parade of witness testimonies that stated, one after another, they had heard from others, sometimes others who had heard from others, that the president had done something wrong.  Literally no one was able to testify that they had been instructed to withhold foreign aid to Ukraine in exchange for an investigation of the Bidens.  American news polls show Americans are tiring of the endless investigations of Trump and the push for impeachment. Once again, the liberal news media and the progressive social media ideologues had been unable to sway the news cycle in a decidedly favorable direction.  But they pushed hard.  So hard in fact, that Nancy Pelosi, Adam Schiff and Jerry Nadler are moving forward with the impeachment of the president of the United States of America.  

It appears that they will have the votes in the House to impeach the president.  Democrat house members appear to be unaffected by the lack of hard evidence against Trump, or the mounting pile of evidence that this was a setup to oust Trump and protect a swamp of corruption from being exposed by impending DOJ criminal investigations.  Instead, a Trump re-election is what they fear the most.  Most Democrats in Washington see impeachment as their most destructive tool in the fight against Donald Trump.  Impeachment is their destructive response to a power vacuum they never saw coming.  Having become complacent with years of favorable media coverage, and friendly social media audiences, the liberals and Democrats let their corruptions run unchecked.  They did not predict the storm that is Donald Trump, or the urgency with which the conservatives would take to social media to defend truth in news reporting and accountability in government.  The Democrats have lost control of the narrative and they know it.  They now see no other option but the Hail Mary impeachment of Donald Trump.  Polls suggest it still won't prevent his re-election, but they are out of ideas, and out of time.  Considerations that this impeachment on flimsy evidence will lead to many unfounded future impeachments are not in their calculation.  This is purely desperation.  I for one, hope that the news media, social media and the American public will punish the Democrats for decades over this irresponsible abuse of their constitutional authority.  

[cs-discourse]

I do not wish anything but good things upon Dia and everyone else involved with this, and I hope that Dia is doing okay and wish them the best moving forward, and I don’t know too much about Rise since I was never a part of it since I never really cared for it, but a couple things.

One, if people paid for their cats, it is not them feeling entitled to them or someone else’s art. They literally fucking are. They bought that with money they earned. That isn’t an entitled Karen. If they didn’t buy it, it is still theirs. They won it or claimed a free service option (I have no idea how Founders worked so the free service may not be totally correct but still my point stands) that was offered to them, and it is theirs. You can’t give someone a gift and then just take it back. Rise isn’t one of the special circumstances where that’s okay, nor was it accidental. While someone made the art, it now belongs to whoever bought it, or whoever it was given to, because they now own it. If the species wasn’t closed I can understand not wanting to allow selling, but if the species is closed, that’s really just a straight up dick move, especially if the people paid for it. There’s only so much you can do with something very community based without the community, and if people lose interest, there’s no way they can get that money back and at some point, it may be money they need. While there doesn’t seem like much can be done if that rule is broken, Dia is a mod on CS, with sway, and they could probably have a user banned for breaking that species rule. I’m not saying they would, but that abuse of power is possible. Also, not allowing them to be used on other sites is also really not okay? It would be more understanding if Dia paid for them herself, but from my understanding, people pitched in to pay for the lines currently used, so there’s not even that excuse. I read the closing post, Rise cats are now considered regular OCs, and it’s not right to constrict the use of their official reference like that. If it were to not upload to places like imgur or Pinterest, that I get because the credit becomes untraceable then, but what if now that the species doesn’t exist someone wanted to develop them elsewhere? There’s no longer any reason to police that and as a species owner myself there really isn’t any justifiable reason I can see to not allow that.

Two, as someone else has said already, Dia took that custom for currency, and if she wasn’t certain about something, she absolutely should have asked for clarification. Most people who take commissions that I’ve seen, references are super important, and if there’s not enough, they ask. They don’t talk it over with other staff members, they go directly to the person and ask. If there was no “surprise me” or “I really do not give a shit about what you do outside these things”, she should have gone straight to Faded to clarify. That is on her. She also says to Fadedfyre that that’s the problem with people ordering cats with technical terms and she wants it to go away. If it’s a problem, then if she was unsure and this has happened before and she doesn’t want it to happen, then she absolutely should have asked for clarification. It’s good she offered to change the eye color, really good, but this could have been avoided if she had asked. It also could have been avoided if a reference had been provided to begin with, but Dia still should have asked. Anxiety is also not an excuse for making someone do extra work or entitling you to it, but from what I saw that was not what Fadedfyre was asking or doing. They explained, asked if anything could be done, and even in their rude reply did not demand or ask for anything to be fixed. They didn’t seem to come in expecting something to happen, just wanting to see if something could be done.

Three, yes, Fadedfyre was rude and really shouldn’t have been like that, but they admitted and acknowledged they were and aren’t acting like it was okay to be rude, and I am also not saying that it was okay, because it’s not, and it’s a huge no. However, they weren’t asking someone to remake it, they were merely asking if anything could be done. That’s not a “demand” for someone to change it. A month also isn’t a super unreasonable time. No where near ideal and definitely a long time, yes, but not insanely unreasonable. It should have been dealt with sooner, but there is so much that can happen in a month and so many reasons why it couldn’t have been dealt with sooner. Real life is a huge one. Personally, since October I’ve been super busy with things and struggling to fix things and I’ve only had a few moments of spare time, and just this month, my cat died, I’ve gone back to the place I was mentally a few years ago which is the worst place I’ve ever been, and my gecko completely surprised me with two babies out of fucking nowhere when I thought her breeder hadn’t ever bred her and I didn’t think eggs could even survive in her tank and I was proved very wrong. I’ve not had any space to breathe. So much can happen out of nowhere and take all your time and energy and a CS species probably isn’t near the top of your priority list. Fadedfyre expressed that they’ve had a lot of in person stuff going on and had anxiety and it took a lot to get them to message Dia, and while I have no idea what is going on for them, I can completely understand where they’re coming from with that. Anxiety can cause you to take ages to work up to being able to do things, and when you’re already going through heavy shit it can take even longer. That anxiety (and excitement) can also make things take longer to realize. You can rationalize, tell yourself that you’ll like it and that it’s not really that bad and your feelings will pass, and then they don’t, and it’s been awhile and you have to accept it and want to see if you can do something about it. Authority figures are also so insanely difficult to approach and Fadefyre said Dia reminded them of people that were not good in their life and that made things harder. To me, Ria definitely comes off as a terrifying authority figure that gives the typical emotionless authority copy paste authority person responses, so I know to me it would take weeks to be able to say something, because I do not do well with people like that, and people like that played a massive hand in fucking my life up and now I instantly distrust anyone who is like that because my only experiences with them are the people who ran my school promising me that nothing would be done, and then the next day sent a fucking policeman to my house to force me to school when I wasn’t able to go in because my anxiety was just too much and I just couldn’t force myself to go. Dia’s comment on anxiety really should not have been made and feels so so unsympathetic and not understanding. I am sure Fadedfyre wanted to address it earlier, but for many reasons they simply couldn’t, and saying “oh I know anxiety makes it hard but if you do it sooner anyway the person will take it better and this thing will go better” really does not help. It’s something that is already known, and the wanted result, but it can’t always be achieved and saying that just makes you feel even worse and as someone with anxiety I can assure you we feel bad enough about it on our own and that’s part of why we take so long. Fadedfyre really should not have responded the way they did but oh god I can see why that caused a snap. That sentence next to a smiley face would have set me off too if it had taken me ages to work up to things because thats the attitude the people at my school had and it’s a hurt I’m still healing from. Brushing off someone’s anxiety like that isn’t cool and it may just be me but Fadedfyre’s apology for Dia reminding them of those two teachers seemed really genuine. Also, I may be blind but I don’t see where the art was insulted? It was never called bad or terrible or shit, just the judgement was a bit harshly criticized. The blocking is justified but as a staff member and species owner, it feels really premature. In authority positions you need to be open and a point of contact, and if you have to block someone it’s best to refer to someone else or at least wait a bit longer to see if there’s an apology or explanation.

Four, NaCI shouldn’t have been told they had to judge them. Things didn’t go as planned and they weren’t in the place for it and someone should have at least been allowed to take over if they volunteered. Also, Dia deleting the post and saying staff should be the ones to answer questions when it wasn’t that also was not okay.

Five, if Dia really didn’t tell the staff either, that’s also not good. She should have at least told them beforehand or made them aware she was considering it.

I don’t think anyone should be mad at Dia or hateful towards her for closing Rise because you need to do what you need to do for your mental health and I cannot stress how important your mental health is, but that doesn’t mean people can’t be upset or critical of what happened because Rise is something that meant a lot to many people. Just be respectful no matter how you’re feeling.

I apologize for how long this is and mods, even if this isn’t posted and I imagine it wont be, I am so truly sorry you had to read all this. You guys are cool and I’m sorry to have made more work for you and wish you all the best and hope you have a most wonderful year.

[luulapants]

WIP Wednesday

I’m changing things up this week! This is the first section of a WIP I’ve had waiting in the wings for a while now. It’s a Stackson space!AU.

I need to do a lot more writing/plotting/planning before I start posting it, and it probably won’t start going up until I’m done with Of All The Ghosts.

The computer woke him with soft, melodic chimes as the lights in his cell slowly brightened. “Good morning, Stiles,” the computer said, an ever-cheerful female voice meant to be soothing to his ill temper. “It’s time to get ready for your day. Would you like to see your schedule now?”

The first morning, it had tried a terrifying, noisy alarm bell, and Stiles had woken in a panic that had only tripled when he realized where he was. In the end, they’d had to sedate him, and he’d been useless for the rest of the day. So now he got the calm and pleasant approach. Why that wasn’t the default was beyond him.

“Let me wake up a little first,” Stiles grumbled at her. Her, they were supposed to call it. STACI. Starfleet Transport Artificial Communication Interface. Like it wasn’t a carbon copy of every other goddamn AI interface in every other goddamn transport company in the galaxy.

STACI let him be until he was half-dressed, blearily brushing his teeth over the undersized sink on the back of his toilet. As she spoke this time, the wall panel next to his bunk lit up with his daily schedule. “You’re expected in the mess hall in nine minutes. After breakfast, all trainees will be given their first assignments. It’s a very exciting day.”

Stiles spat his toothpaste. “Do I not look excited?” he deadpanned at her.

“No.”

He rolled his eyes and pulled up the top part of his jumpsuit, zipping it up to his collarbone. It was a truly hideous garb, brown canvas with black stitching and STARFLEET TRANSPORT emblazoned across the back. Around each bicep was a black band that read TRAINEE.

As he laced his boots, STACI rambled on at him, flashing information on whatever screen he was more likely to accidentally look at in his current position. “After assignments, trainees will go to individual study rooms to learn about their assignments. Over the next week, you will become an expert on your customers to ensure they have the best Starfleet experience possible. After lunch, you will have one and a half hours of ship maintenance class followed by two hours of customer service seminar.”

Customer service. Stiles rolled his eyes so hard it was a wonder he didn’t strain something. He stood and headed for the door of his cell. Even runny oatmeal was better than listening to this shit.

The door to his cell didn’t open. “Stiles, I think you’re forgetting something!”

Stiles turned around, scowling. The computer was waiting for him to figure it out on his own, but he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction.

On the screen next to his toilet-sink, a picture of a comb appeared. “It’s always important to look your best when you’re representing the Starfleet family!”

Heaving a sigh, he stalked back over to his tray of toiletry supplies. “Family my ass. I’m a fucking slave,” he grumbled under his breath. STACI must have heard him, though, because a little zap of electricity stung at the tender inside of his wrist. Stiles gasped and dropped his comb back into the tray, looking up at the nearest camera in the corner of his cell. He glowered.

“Hurry, Stiles! You’re expected in the mess hall in two minutes.”

----

Stiles had skated a fine line during his sentencing training so far. Belligerent enough to be labeled problematic, reduced price, possibly in need of further training, but not quite bad enough to be re-sentenced to a mining asteroid. Not that the colonies would want his scrawny ass anyway.

Aside from the omnipresent STACI, there were guards, trainers, analysts – all of them stiff-backed Starfleet employees that looked down their noses at Stiles and the rest of the compulsory workers, compos. Their jobs were specialized, dignified, possibly even well-paid. Stiles and the rest of them, though? The poor shmucks that actually had to get on the transport ships and kiss customer ass for the duration of a space voyage? They weren’t getting paid, unless you counted the time. Stiles had two years on his sentence, two years that didn’t even start until he was trained well enough to work off his debt to society.

“Worried about your assignment?” Isaac asked over breakfast. Stiles could tell that he hated being here as much as the rest of them, but Isaac had a gift for seeming downright respectful in his disdain. Subservient, a more critical side of Stiles called it. Smart, if he was really being honest.

“Maybe,” Stiles relented. “Why, are you? Because you shouldn’t be. You’re such a fuckin’ sweetheart, they’ll stick you on one of those private luxury cruisers, serving champagne to rich sorority girls on spring break.”

Isaac ducked his head to cover up a grin, always careful not to react to visibly. “I dunno. I’ve been lousy in ship systems class, so I think I’ll get stuck on a big ship, you know? I wouldn’t want it to be down to me if something went wrong.”

Stiles tapped his spoon against the rim of his bowl idly. “Nothing wrong with a big ship. Plenty of other compos to keep you company.”

“Yeah, I guess. What about you? You’re pretty good with the ship systems.”

With a snort, Stiles scraped the last of his oatmeal out of the bowl. “Yeah, but I’ve got ‘behavioral issues’ written all over my profile. They’ll probably shove me in some electrical closet in the bottom of a freight ship. Get gang-banged by freight haulers for ten months heading out for a moon on the edge of the system.”

Isaac cringed. “They wouldn’t let you get hurt on a ship, would they?”

Stiles lifted a dubious eyebrow at Isaac because, really, he was the sweetest, naivest little lamb to ever get caught sneaking controlled substances onto an interplanetary shuttle. Stiles suspected he’d been holding it for someone else and refused to give them up, but he didn’t have much to back that up beyond Isaac’s pure, beautiful soul and how shitty the rest of the world was. “Isaac, I dunno how to tell you this, but I really don’t think these people give two shits what happens to us as long as we can keep working.”

The fact that his control bracelet didn’t shock him for the statement made Stiles think that, not only was that probably true, but Starfleet probably wanted them all to know it.

Image from @ao3commentoftheday​

[commander-passiflora]

Miscommunication

Day 2 of Valentine’s fic week! Today’s prompt is Memorable Dates, so this is kind of a brief history of Toril’s relationship with Erlend, who eventually becomes her husband, but this is like. Early early days kinda thing. This is like awkward baby Toril though, before she was all confidence and swagger. It was really fun to play with that part of her history!!

Again, this is also posted on ao3, so here’s a link for that for anyone who prefers. Thanks for reading! <3

“Hi, um, is this--sorry, I’ve never been to Lion’s Arch before. I’m looking for a blacksmith?”

Erlend sighed from his place behind the counter. Normally at this time of day, he’d have someone else watch for customers while he tended the forge, but right now he was working on a design for a rather expensive axe someone had commissioned, so he had the distinct pleasure of fielding stupid questions from random LA tourists.

“Well, I’m a blacksmith, and this is my shop, but--” he said, turning to face the woman.

What he saw stopped him dead in his tracks.

She was large, tall even for a norn, with silver hair down to the small of her back, held neatly in a braid. She didn’t fit in with the tourist crowd in the slightest--this was a woman on a mission, that he could be certain of. She was clad in heavy, bulky combat armor, with a shabby iron sword strapped to either hip, and her eyes held...something. Something he couldn’t put words to. A power.

“But…?” the woman echoed as he stared at her, wide-eyed.

“But...it’s very dependent on what kind of services you’re looking for,” Erlend said, shaking his head to bring him back to reality. “My prices are a bit steep for the average adventurer.”

“Ah, well, it’s a good thing I’m not the average adventurer then,” she said with a smile that he could’ve sworn stopped his heart for a second or two. “You wouldn’t happen to be Erlend Holgerson?” 

“That’d be me,” he said. “I take it you’re here to commission something, then, if you’re seeking me out specifically.”

“That I am,” the woman said, reaching out a hand for him to shake. “Name’s Toril. Tainesdottir. I saw you eyeing my swords, and that is exactly why I’m here. They’re terrible. I need better ones.”

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Toril Tainesdottir. I’d be happy to help you out, but I have to warn you, it’ll be a few months before I can get to work on any new commissions.”

“I’m willing to wait,” Toril said. “I want the best, and everyone says that’s you. These swords are going to see quite a bit of use; I want something that’ll last.”

“Is that so?” Erlend inquired.

“Yeah, um, I was just recruited to the Vigil. About two weeks ago now, I guess, and my first official mission is soon, so I want to go in ready for whatever they throw at me. Make a good impression, climb the ladder, you know?”

“Sure, but like I said, I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to get them done with such a quick turnaround.”

“I understand,” she said. “That’s not what--I mean, joining was what made me want to get--but I--you know what? I am making a terrible first impression here. You must think I’m an idiot.”

“Not at all. I try not to make a point of judging customers in general,” he said, “but honestly, you’re a refreshing change from my usual crowd.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I mean, I became a weaponsmith because I wanted to make weapons, but once you have enough of a reputation, you start getting inundated with orders from rich snobs who want showpieces. It’s a pleasure to have a proper fighter seek me out.” 

“Well, I promise your work will see plenty of fights in my hands. I’m going to be a legend, you know,” Toril said.

Erlend laughed heartily.

“I believe it,” he said. “Well, I can go ahead and get started on a design for you, even if it’ll be awhile before I can really get working on it. You have some time to talk shop?”

“Sure, but could we do it over lunch? I’m starved.”

***

“So you’re a revenant?” Erlend said, taking a sip of ale. “I’ve never met a revenant before. I’ve heard of them, o’course, but I sort of thought they were just a tall tale.”

“Well, we’re certainly not a common bunch,” Toril laughed, “but we exist. In my case, I ended up in the Mists because of Bear, and she was the one who set me on the path. I’ve heard all sorts of stories, though, of how other people got started on theirs.”

“What, do you have meet ups or something?” he joked.

“Not exactly, but since there’s so few of us, sometimes we seek each other out to train and swap tips. Personally, I’m a bit more of a ‘figure it out as I go’ type, but I’ve helped out a couple kids who were just getting used to it after an accidental foray into the Mists. It’s hard to cope with. Changes you.”

“Well, I’d love to hear more about it,” Erlend said, “but let’s focus on the swords for now, if that’s alright with you.”

“Yeah, of course, absolutely. Maybe I can tell you about it another time,” she said, and Erlend felt his heart flutter. “What do you need to know to get started?”

“Well, for one thing, what’s your budget look like?”

Toril chuckled and said, “How about you tell me what you think it’ll cost when all is said and done, and I’ll deal with it? Your work is the best. I’ve been saving for months to commission you.”

“Ah, that’s--you’re too kind.”

“No, seriously,” Toril said. “I’ve been planning this for a while.”

“Really?”

She nodded. “Mhm. Everything really kicked off for me about a year ago, when I won the Great Hunt by slaying Issormir. After that, I was lucky enough to have Eir Stegalkin take me under her wing, and she recommended that once I was able, I come to you. Been saving every bit of spare change since then.”

“You’re Eir Stegalkin’s new protege?” Erlend asked, eyes wide. “I’ve heard so many great stories, but I never--wow, it’s--it’s an honor.”

“No, no, don’t do that, please. You’re the first norn I’ve met in ages to not lose it when they heard my name.”

“Fair enough,” he said. “I can understand that. I’ll let it go, on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“You tell me your version of some of those stories yourself.”

She smiled, radiant and genuine and world-spinning. 

“I’d like that.” 

***

A week later and Erlend was meeting her at a practice field on the edge of the city. Turns out, it’s a bit hard to design weapons for a combat style you’ve never seen, and Toril agreed to give a demonstration. He was nervous, honestly, his stomach full of butterflies. Something about her was just...captivating.

“So the basics of how revenants fight are pretty out there,” Toril explained. “We, um, channel energy from the Mists, and it allows us to use a wide variety of skills.”

“So you use Mist energy to improve your combat abilities?”

“It’s...more than that. I channel specific people. Or beings, I guess. Their spirits. And they allow me to use their knowledge and strengths and skills to improve my own abilities in combat. Or, well, they don’t all allow it, per se.” She chuckled. “Sometimes it’s more that I just strongarm them into it.”

“I’ll be honest, I’m not sure I understand,” Erlend admitted. “Can you just show me?”

“I can certainly try,” she said. “Be prepared, though. I’ve had some people tell me it’s a little...disturbing.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he just shrugged and gestured toward a practice dummy. She smiled at him, winked (he thought he might faint at that), and then closed her eyes and drew her swords. When she opened them, they were glowing with a bright blue fire. It was like nothing he’d ever seen.

The same blue flames licked her wrists as she shadowstepped to a target and sliced it in half with a quick motion, sending sand spilling to the ground. She turned, raised a hand as if calling something down, and a moment later, a brick road--or magic shaped to look like one, anyway--was materializing before her, crushing three of the dummies as it went. She turned to another--the last one, now--and shadowstepped to it, before darting in and out of the Mists, delivering quick strikes faster than he could keep up with. When she stopped moving, she crossed her swords and conjured a chain, sending it flying to wrap around the target. Raising her hand again, she called down--he wasn’t sure he could describe it. It looked like the spirit of a dragon, but that was--that was ridiculous. Wasn’t it? 

It must have been real enough, because when it beat its wings it sent the target flying across the field. After a moment, Toril turned to him, panting, and sheathed her swords with a grin. He watched with fascination as the fire slowly disappeared from her eyes. 

“Yeah, I--sorry. I know it’s a little much,” she said, looking down as she approached him.

“No--I--that--” Erlend stammered. He took a deep breath, collected himself, tried again. “That was the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen. You’re incredible.”

“Oh, um, thanks. I, uh...I’m not used to compliments. Most people seem really creeped out by revenants.”

“People tend to fear things they don’t understand,” Erlend says. “Me, I’ve always liked a good mystery.”

Toril raised a single eyebrow, and for one tense moment, the smith thought he may have overstepped, until her rough facade gave way to a tender smile.

***

They met up a few more times, here and there. It was always at her invitation and under the guise of talking about the swords, about Toril’s combat skills, about what it’s like to be an oddity, what it’s like to forge a legend--anything that could be dismissed as strictly business. Erlend thought that was all it was, really. Business. She was fascinating and wild and dangerous and beautiful, and he was a smith born and raised in Lion’s Arch and distanced from his own culture for so long that every time it came up with Shiverpeaks natives he learned something new. 

This time, she’d asked him to dinner, and how on Tyria could he say no to that? 

Toril told him about her first mission with the Vigil--a resounding success, of course--and about her mentor, a stern norn Warmaster who had made a point of keeping her ego in check. He told her about some rich bastard who’d stumbled drunk into his shop and demanded Erlend make him a fine greatsword within the fortnight. 

“So hey,” Toril said at one point, a little serious to fit within the laughter they’d been sharing, “I wanted to, uh, talk to you about something.”

“About what?” Erlend asked, just a touch nervous.

“Oh it’s--it’s nothing bad!” Toril assured. “I don’t mean to make you worried, it’s just that--well, with where this seems to be going, and seeing as I really, really like you, I think you should probably know that, um, well...I have a girlfriend?”  

“You have a girlfriend?” Erlend parroted.

“Yeah, well, see, we have this, uh, arrangement, I guess you could say. We both have other partners. Or, well, can. She’s the only one I have currently. Unless, y’know…”

“I, um--forgive me, please,” Erlend said, “but is there--is there a particular reason you feel I should know this?”

“Oh, um, were you not…? Like, I thought you were maybe interested in me, and I’m more than a little interested in you, and...you know…”

“Are you--has this--have we been going on dates?” Erlend babbled.

“Haven’t we been?” Toril answered, now just as confused.

“I thought this was--I didn’t think you were--I didn’t want to presume anything, but well, you’re so--and just--”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Toril said, holding up a hand in an attempt to calm him, “it’s alright, Erlend. Stuff like this happens. Miscommunication and all. I’ve been asking to see you because I like you. I think you’re sweet, and you understand me, and you have this grounding sort of energy about you that I can’t seem to stay away from. I thought I had communicated that, but I suppose not well enough.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Well, y’see, you walked into my shop and I--” Erlend tried, took a deep breath, started again. “When I saw you, I think my heart stopped for a minute. You’re absolutely, stunningly gorgeous, and funny, and a badass, and just absolutely otherworldly, but I don’t go after customers. It’s rude. I’m not the type for that, bothering a lady just trying to buy a weapon. Too many other assholes out there who like to do that sort of thing. If someone makes the first move, well, I’m not opposed, but...I enjoy spending time with you, but I just assumed someone like you wouldn’t really be interested in...well, me.”

“Why on Tyria would you assume that?” Toril asked.

“Your life is so...I don’t know. Interesting? I’m just me, and you’re, well, you.”

She reached a hand across the table, placing it over one of his that had been fidgeting nervously with the wood. 

“Didn’t you hear the part where I said I like you?” she asked with a gentle smile.

“It may have gotten a bit lost in there somewhere,” Erlend admitted. 

Toril chuckled and lifted his hand, holding it in both of hers. 

“Every bit of time I’ve spent with you, I’ve enjoyed,” she said. “And I’d like to spend more time with you, if you’d like to spend more time with me.” 

“I...yeah. I’d like that, too,” the smith said, nodding awkwardly. After a long pause, he added, “So what do we do now?”

“Well,” Toril said, smiling brightly, “how do you feel about ice cream?”

[marvelous-avengers]

saturday

a/n: goodmorning!!! this is totally self indulgent and i wanted it so here it is!

summary: You like to sleep in and don’t get to. Bucky is a lil worried. Modern/post-college au     

pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

warnings: fluff fluff fluff and some funnies (i tried). so self indulgent for me, but i hope you all enjoy

Saturday.

A morning for blinds pulled all the way and sleeping in. For relaxing and taking advantage of the one day off after working your ass off for days on end. Your plan on Friday night was to avoid all life, grab a glass of water and sleep in until God knows when the next morning.

But God isn’t so helpful.

Being awake at the rip time of 9:27 in the morning might seem like a gift, but it’s fairly disappointing when you’re only sleeping in two hours after you’re usually awake and getting ready. You groan and stuff your face into the pillow, already frustrated with how the day is going.

You had accidentally left your floral string lights plugged in, the soft lights hanging above your bedframe. Maybe the light woke you up? Your pillows were comfortable, a little weird from your tossing and turning in the night. Your cheeks feel warm, but not ‘I’ve just woken up and it’s so nice in my bed’ warm. No, they were ‘I feel a little overheated and dry’ warm. The worst kind.

You groan again, throwing the covers off and sitting up, rubbing your hands over your face and through your hair. Your bare legs are happy with the little air floating through your room, and you stretch your socked feet, toes cracking. There is no reason you should be this warm in the morning. You stumble out of your room and over to the thermostat in the living room, the damned old fashioned thing, and see that the red line is teetering around seventy-five degrees.

You scowl at it.

“Fuck that,” you mumble, turning it down to a reasonable temperature at around sixty. You rub at your forehead again as you head back up the narrow stairs to your room, using the bathroom on your way before climbing back into bed.

Your roommate and best friend Wanda, god love her, loved to be warm. She was usually cold, and with the recent chill that blew through the city, bringing a heaping pile of snow with it, she had a habit of turning up the heat while you were at work. The only real problem is that because your apartment is two levels, and at the top of the small three-floor complex, the heat rises to the top floor, which is where your bedrooms reside.

So it got very warm up there, for no reason other than simple physics.

The building was older, with renovated apartments, but yours has been lived in by friends and friends of friends for the last six years, so it hasn’t really changed since then. Everything worked, but the heat was the wonkiest.

You think back to last night, noticing that it was teetering between warm and too warm when you got home, and Wanda had turned up the heat while you had been at work. Again. You turned it down to a reasonable level, watched some TV together and then went to bed.

She must’ve turned it back up after you went to sleep.

Another thing that is the result of a too warm room is waking up earlier than you’d like to.

You burrow yourself in your bed, turning until comfortable, as you close your eyes and try to let sleep overcome you again.

---

Bucky notices that it’s just past eleven am and he hasn’t heard from you yet.

Not that he’s worried–you usually send him a meme or a ‘goodmornin’ cutie’ text when you’re up and ready to tackle the world. He’ll send you one as well–which he did this morning–you just haven’t responded yet.

He stares at his phone as watches the number change to 11:09.

Strange.

He knows that you’re usually up by now. You either go to work or are trying to get errands done, whether it’s grocery shopping or picking up your developed film rolls. He remembers, because you complained about your favorite shop closing and now you have to walk another few blocks for mediocre service.

He tries to remember if you had previously mentioned any plans for the day that would cause an absence. He usually saw you every other day; you lived close enough and worked in the same area, it was easy to see you. That was part of why your relationship was so good–you talked a lot in person and hung out frequently enough, but had your own lives and jobs that kept you busy.

He starts to wonder if you might be upset with him, and that’s not a fun hole to climb into. 

Bucky thinks he’s a good boyfriend. He shows up when he says he will, surprises you on occasion with flowers or a treat, and he walks you home when he can. He is a good boyfriend, and he doesn’t think he’s done anything particularly dumb or awful or forgetful this week.

So why hasn’t he heard from you today yet?

He stares at his coffee in his mug and thinks hard. He knows that you were working a lot and that with a few conventions and conferences in town, work must’ve been busier than usual. Which is good for the restaurant, but not always great for the people working. Because guests can be rude and awful and more than once you have come home angry or upset with something a customer did or how crazy the restaurant was.

Some part of his mind, the sane part, reminds Bucky that it is your day off and that you are probably just in bed. You get into habits where you need a day for yourself, where you turn off your phone and just sit and read and do things to take care of yourself. Dealing with tons of people all week, for days on end is very draining and you need to isolate yourself sometimes until you are ready to do it all again. This might be one of those days, you might just need some time for yourself.

But as the clock on his phone ticks closer to eleven thirty and he still has nothing from you saying that you are alive and well, the worried part of his brain takes over.

Bucky throws a jacket on over his hoodie, laces up his shoes and is out the door.

---

You don’t sleep another wink, and it’s frustrating and disappointing.

You loved to sleep, and sleeping when it’s cold out is arguably the best. You get to not wear pants, pull the blinds over, and curl up under piles of sheets and blankets and knock yourself out until noon.

But not when your roommate turns the fucking heat up.

You’re not really mad at her–just frustrated. Frustrated that your sleep has been interrupted by temperature, for god’s sakes, and it seems so lame and unforgiving. It’s why you like fall and winter, but you also hate it because seasonal affective disorder is the realest thing there is and has not been kind to you lately.

Anyway.

Your body aches just the slightest, so for the last two hours you’ve been scrolling your phone mindlessly, thumbing through books and tossing and turning with your eyes closed to try and nap. You are determined to not to anything today. But between covering yourself and throwing the covers off of you, the warmth still evident in the air, you haven’t slept another wink.

You’re so distracted by trying to sleep and you’re almost there when there’s a gentle knock at your door.

“Babe?”

Your head turns up in confusion. Bucky?

It hadn’t taken him long to walk over there. He had used his spare key to let himself in, toeing off his shoes and tossing his jacket on a kitchen chair. He’d listened for any hints that you were awake, but got nothing. All the lights were off when he came in, so he guessed that everyone was still asleep. Seeing your keys hanging on the wall next to the door, he let out a sigh of quiet relief.

He barely made any noise as he climbed the steps, the carpet capturing his footsteps. Even in the darkness of the second floor, he found your door easily and announced his presence with a gentle knock.

“Babe?”

His soft voice shocks you fully awake and he knocks for a second time. “Babe, are you awake?”

“Yeah,” you answer, and you don’t see his shoulders relax. You sit up, rubbing your face again. Your skin still feels warm, and you hate it.

“Oh.”

“Oh?” He hears you rustle as you get up and unlock the door, opening it to reveal his pretty face. His eyes quickly take in your form, clad only in an oversized shirt and your socks, messy hair on top, and he visibly relaxes. “What do you mean ‘oh’?”

He blushes lightly, scratching the back of his neck. “I just got a little worried when you didn’t answer me this morning. Thought something was wrong.”

“God, you’re so cute,” you groan, grabbing his hand and pulling him into your room. When you shut the door behind him, he wraps you in his arms and hugs you close, hands warm and soothing on your back. You stuff your face into his neck, humming and breathing in the scent of Bucky that comforts you always. When you pull away, you tilt your head and press a kiss to his lips. “Sorry, I was trying to sleep in. I didn’t see it.”

“‘S okay,” he says, hands running up and down your back. “I figured, I just got a little worried. No biggie.”

You smile, cupping his face and kissing him again. When he pulls away, Bucky’s face is scrunched up. “Why is it so warm in here?”

You roll your eyes and fall back onto your bed, and Bucky sheds his sweater. “Because Wanda turned up the thermostat again and heat rises. Which in turn, woke me up on my day off.”

“I’m sorry, babe,” he replies, sitting next to you and placing a hand on your leg. Your eyes are closed, hands folded over your stomach. You look tired. “Do you want to go back to sleep? I can leave if you want.”

Your eyes shot open and you grab his hand. “Noo, don’t leave. Stay and nap with me. Please?” You pout slightly, and Bucky chuckles.

“Okay.” He leans down and kisses your forehead, earning a happy noise from you. Then he stands up and walks over to your window, cracking it just enough so that a small breeze floats in. The temperature in your room immediately drops and you smile at him, situating yourself correctly on your bed. He strips down to his boxers and chuckles again as you make grabby hands for him. He kisses you again before curling behind you, wrapping one arm around your middle as the other slips underneath the pillows.

Once you’re settled under the covers, you let out a massive sigh, and he tightens his arm around you. “Better?”

“Much.” You interlace your fingers with his, bringing his hand up to kiss it before placing it back against your chest. I love you, thank you. Bucky kisses your shoulder, nuzzling the back of your head. I love you, too. Your breaths even out in minutes, and a warm feeling erupts in his chest as he too, relaxes into unconsciousness.

A perfect way to spend a Saturday.

[yogaposesfortwo]

Teachers and Studios on Bringing Their Yoga Classes Online

If we were told a few months back that all studios would be closed, retreats cancelled and public classes banished we wouldn’t have believed it. Yoga Teachers and Studios livelihoods rely on their students to show up and when this isn’t possible, times can be worrying.  It is astounding to see the yoga industry evolve to offer classes online, whole studio timetables now available online and teachers and students working together to bring yoga to our homes when we need it most.  We caught up with some Yoga Teachers and studio owners in our network to hear about how they have adapted to the change. For those who are feeling overwhelmed by the change, we hope that this piece will lift your spirits – because we are all in this together, collectively hoping to share happiness, health and love to one another, however we can.

Jess Horn

What are you offering? I am offering my full schedule on line, x 6 – 8 classes a week, with live streaming, donation based classes. I’m also providing some free content including short videos and some Relaxation evenings/ home retreats which I’m hoping to help as many people as possible relax, connect with their bodies, de-stress and manage anxiety. Also to provide a sense of community and move away from fear into connecting with hope, love and the best qualities of humanity. I’m also going to put together a short course – Introduction to Meditation –  for the home office – How to navigate these uncharted waters with more ease. What challenges have you faced or what have you been surprised by? I’ve been surprised at how much it’s helping people. I’m getting really positive feedback and its great to see how many people are keen to join in and embrace new technology!  I have faced a few teething issues (like muting myself accidentally half way through a class!) But each time I do it, it gets a little easier! What is your advice would you like to share to other teachers and the yoga community? If you’re a teacher, now is the time for seva, (service) and your students need you now more than ever, so do reach out to them. As teachers we have the toolkit, the science of yoga, to help them to regulate their nervous system through their breath and find space and calm amongst these crazy and uncertain times. Don’t be afraid about being on line, if its new for you, it can be challenging, but start small, maybe doing a little live, or even pre-recording a video and sharing. You don’t need loads of fancy equipment, or a huge space and it doesn’t matter what you look like, just be authentically you! Remember Done is better than perfect! So move through the self doubt as the world now more than ever, needs your yoga!  I know that many of us rely on our teaching for our income so do ask for a donation / payment if you’re offering full classes. Maybe offer smaller free offerings or donations for those who struggle financially. At this time we need to dig deep, double up on our self care and practice what we preach! If you’re a student of yoga, reach out to your teacher and tell them what you’d like them to share and how you can support each other. We don’t know how long this will go on for, so we need to all pull together and provide support for each other and the yoga community! 

Trisha Champaneri

What are you offering? All my classes are online now – so that’s mainly yoga flows and meditations.  I’ve got something going on every day as I’m trying to keep busy and my regular clients are really needing their practice more than ever.  I’m streaming via Zoom and IGTV and my schedule is on my website. From Monday EVERY DAY at 8:30am, I’ll be offering a daily meditation and motivational video on IGTV.  I want to help people get their ducks in a row early doors, so they align with their intentions and get the most from their day.  This type of grounding work is so valuable and consistency is absolutely key. I’ve got clients that will put this on for their kids too when the schools close.  Hopefully it will set the tone for the day and give some structure to the people who follow it regularly.    What challenges have you faced or what have you been surprised by? Teaching online is TOTALLY different to teaching in real life.  I don’t think I’ve ever fully appreciated that and I’m massively out of my comfort zone!  I am learning something new with each class and it’s really giving me a sense of purpose at the moment.  It’s also given me a real respect for anyone that has ever put themselves out there online and shared this type of work.  It takes guts.   Another challenge is the logistics of course.  Generally I’m okay with tech stuff, but wouldn’t say that I’m the best, so I’m having to learn a lot on that front too.  Currently I’m taking donations for classes (from those who can afford to pay) via my website, but I know that this could be a lot slicker, so I’ll aim to refine that in the next few days.  Classes are obviously free for key workers.  I am pleasantly surprised by the way in which we’re all supporting one another.  The teaching community, small local businesses, everyone really, we’re all rooting for each other and I love that.       What advice would you like to share to the other teachers and the yoga community? Wash your hands and don’t touch your face.  Seriously though, If you’re thinking of doing something similar, DO IT!!!! You can set up streams for your regular students if you’re not comfortable with opening the net wider.  Honestly, it’s easier to set up than you think.   I’d also ask people giving completely free classes to question what that says about the value that you place on what we offer as practitioners.  For sure at the moment, there will be people who cannot afford to pay and they should not have to. But there will also be people who can afford to make a contribution and they absolutely should.  We are all turning to these practices to ease the heightened feeling of anxiety. How can that not be worth something?  Essentially, as I am learning, you just need to back yourself and get on with it.  I know teaching is a very personal and vulnerable thing, but what you offer can and will help someone.  If you have the capacity to do this, then you must, particularly in this time of need and uncertainty. I wish you all the best of health and am sending high vibes to everyone. 

Paula Gardiner, Space2be and The Yoga Lighthouse

What are you offering? We’re offering on-line classes to all of our members. We have also created social media groups where our teachers are sharing videos and free resources. I am in the process of expanding our on-line offering with some pop up events to learn new fun skills eg. quiz night, knitting group , arts and crafts, strictly come dancing classes (learn some basic steps). A variety of activities to keep our members active and inspired. What challenges have you faced or what have you been surprised by? Technology! Communicating with members via so many different ways WhatsApp, Texts, Social groups and making sure everyone has seen the communications! Also making so many quick decisions – not knowing if they are right but no time to procrastinate – trust your intuition! I have been so surprised how important classes are to people a familiar face. How well the on-line classes have been received. I did one I loved it. Connection is so important right now. It’s amazing what we can do in a week if we have to! What is your advice would you like to share to other teachers and the yoga community? Advice – it doesn’t have to be perfect just get something up and running asap. Keep your community close, involve your Teachers, ask for help, communicate not just email get on video pick up the phone. Think what else do customers need. Kindness will go along way so think long term not short term.

Nicole Andrews, FloYoga

What are you offering? We are running a full schedule on Zoom that is booked through mind body from Monday onwards. We started with some donation based classes on IG live for the last few days to trial out how online would work with our community. What challenges have you faced or what have you been surprised by? Really surprised by how much people wanted us to continue at home and its been so amazing the amount of support from our community and beyond practicing at such a challenging time with us and donating to help keep us alive! Challenges are things like music and how to set it up and use it online, how to see if everyone is getting what you are teaching and it is clear or the level etc in class, we hope to get some people using webcam when we go on to Zoom to combat this. What is your advice would you like to share to other teachers and the yoga community? It can be nerve–wracking especially the first couple of times, but like anything new it just takes practice and then you get more comfortable. It’s almost like a reminder of what it was like to start teaching all over again, and has you questioning everything as it’s live for the world to see! Without the ability to have live feedback from students in the room you don’t really know much till after. So really believe in yourself and what you’re doing, it can be daunting as there’s so many offerings but it’s no different to the options in person. Don’t compare yourself to other offerings online, let’s all support each other where we can and enjoy this new challenge! The post Teachers and Studios on Bringing Their Yoga Classes Online appeared first on Yogamatters Blog. Author: Yogamatters Source: https://www.yogamatters.com/blog/teachers-and-studio-owners-on-bringing-their-classes-online/ Discover more info about Yoga Poses for Two People here: Yoga Poses for Two Read the full article