#poor interviewer didn't even get to publish their interview

[divineprank]

Solving a 25 year old mystery...

Very early on in the game, we're informed that if the Kokiri dare step outside of the forest, they will die. That's a fairly heavy statement, but it does line up with more lore that we end up picking up as the game carries on. Anyways, this forest is a secluded, protected and magical place, a small haven that is effectively cut off from the rest of the world. As we carry on through the game, we learn that anyone who is lost within these enchanted woods--anyone who is NOT a Kokiri--will twist into one of two creatures: a Skull Kid if you are a child, and if you are an adult you will transform into a Stalfos. Why this happens is still a mystery, but one can guess it's likely connected to the Deku Tree's magic and the Kokiri being a vulnerable race. They're so precious to the Great Deku Tree; he views them as his children after all, and his children MUST be protected!

Makes sense, right?

So why is it, at the end of the game, we actually see a bunch of Kokiri outside the forest, partying it up with Guru-Guru at Lon Lon Ranch? They're spinning him on his organ grinder, and we even see a lonesome Mido situated next to a heartsick King Zora, both of them missing their special person.

Q: The Kokiri tribe is outside the forest at the ending. And the Zora too...

A: This is because Link's success has wiped out the evil forces, and the range of the Deku Tree Sprout protecting the forest has been expanded. The Zoras do not need to be immersed in water all the time. (Kawagoe, Cinema Scene Director).

And there it is! The answer to a burning question that many people have been wanting to know for twenty-five years now! The worst part is, this interview was published in an April 1999 issue of Nintendo 64Dream Magazine! We've had the answer to this question given to us only FIVE MONTHS after the game launched, and yet still to this day I think it is one of the most-asked questions about Ocarina of Time! Funny how things happen that way, huh?

[Source!]

...Aaactually, since I mentioned it...

Remember the cute little boy who is practically enamored with Dampé, the grave keeper? The one whose father you give the Keaton mask to and the very same child you give the Spooky Mask to?

According to this very same Dream64 magazine interview, this child ends up going missing before Link wakes up seven years later. In fact, five years after Ganondorf had invaded the sacred realm, this poor kid ended up taking it upon himself to search for his missing father, (the Hylian soldier stationed in front of Death Mountain's gate - the guy you trade the Keaton mask to!). Upon searching the forest for his father, he became lost and tragically succumbed to the forest's curse. He transformed into a Skull Kid at eight years old and apparently had an encounter with Link. He didn't bother to attempt communicating with Link, asking if he knew where his father was because Skull Kids don't trust adults. He attacked Link instead and I hate to think where that ended up.

Q:  Where did the little stalker in the graveyard go when you were in your time (became an adult)? A: Five years later, when he was eight years old, he wandered into the Lost Woods in search of his missing father and got lost. At that time, he became a Skull Kid. Skull Kid don’t talk to adults, so when he encountered adult Link, he just attacked him and didn't ask him what happened to him. (Koizumi, 3D System Director).

Grog is actually mentioned in this magazine, too... You know, the "People are disgusting!" guy? After we are given the medicine from the Odd Mushroom he had given us, we don't get to see Grog again. Instead, Fado appears and tells us that everybody who enters the forest turns into a Stalfos. Everybody. Stalfos. The dark and frankly unsatisfying conclusion to Grog's story, just after giving the poor fellow an ounce of hope, is quite jarring and it only left folks with more questions.

Q: What happened to Cucco Lady’s brother after he gave you the mushrooms?

A: Fado, the Kokiri girl who is waiting for you, is saying a meaningful message. "They all become Stalfos.” That's right, everyone who wanders into the Lost Forest becomes a Stalfos and lives in the Forest Temple. What? What about the human Link? Well, they are not Kokiri... Why is that? (Koizumi, 3D System Director).

While it's not a lot of information, we are given a piece of lore that gets my imagination firing off... Why would Grog--or any Stalfos--be drawn to the Forest Temple? Interestingly, if you show the Skull Mask to some of the Deku Scrubs, they will refer to the mask as looking like their "sacred forest totem". Could the Stalfos be related?

And for THAT matter... Why does the Skull Mask look so similar to Phantom Ganon's face?

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

I'm piggybacking a bit off of the last ask of asking for writing tips but I have an odd question... Am I the only person that struggles actually PICKING a book? It's the absolute bane of my existence because I feel like I can be so picky... Don't get me wrong, I love being a bookworm, and I'm trying to get back into reading physical books but it's so difficult to find a real taste of what the book is like without being completely spoiled or something... I miss when backs of books had an actual summary and not just NO.1 NEW YORK BESTSELLER!!!! It's so frustrating... I've been trying to get back into it by re-reading fond chapter childhood books read to me (The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane & A Wrinkle In Time). But at the same time I'm also trying to get into more "adult" books that isn't... Well, you try googling "adult books" and see how that goes, I didn't think too hard about what a poor decision THAT was. But I'm working up the courage to read Cat's Cradle right now to start with "Classic Authors" I guess!

Anyway I'm rambling here, I guess my question is... How do you pick out the books you read? I don't really have friends that read many books to recommend to me :')

Thank you in advance, Bog! I hope you get a callback from that interview soon!

no ok actually you've mentioned something that's been bothering me for a while - What The Hell Do Y'all Mea, Books Don't Have Summaries Anymore???? i have not once in my life found a book that didn't have a summary. i was in barnes & noble recently and everything i looked at had a summary. i have literally never seen a book without one in my life of reading & looking at new books on a regular basis

softcovers have theirs on the back. hardcovers are on the inside of the sleeve - lift the cover and it should be printed right there on the inside flap! summaries aren't legally required but both the author and Especially the publisher(s) know that no one's gonna buy a book without a summary. trust me, all books worth reading have a summary. if a book doesn't have one, it's probably not worth your time anyway. you just gotta know where to look!

so my answer to how i choose books... i read the summary lmao. if it seems interesting, ill either write it down to get later or ill get it there and then.

Before the summary though, i look for any titles that jump out at me from the shelf. then i look at the thickness. i like a bit of meat in my literature, so i tend to shy away from thinner books. thicker ones grab my attention more easily. then i look at the cover - if it interests me, then ill read the summary. i don't have specific tastes in title or cover. as long as it makes my brain "hm" thoughtfully, ill take a gander!

and really, if you have access to a bookstore (chain or not, ive found plenty of bangers in tiny used bookshops) or library, the best way to find a book is to physically browse. even if you dont buy anything, you can take pictures of books / write them down to buy online. but going to the store lets you search them out, examine the length, cover, title, summary - and easily put it back on the shelf or keep it. i hate shopping online bc there's ads, you can't examine the product, nothing really stands out since it's all portrayed similarly, there's limited pictures instead of the physical thing, and photos can lie.

plus, everything is (typically) meticulously sorted by genre & age range. when you go into a section with literature aimed at adults, you'll find exactly that instead of smut novels lmao. real life bookstores can be more accurate than online searches. & there's just something so good about walking through shelves, searching for that one book before you know it exists, smelling the paper... yeah...

[thenightling]

DO NOT BUY THIS EDITION OF FRANKENSTEIN! This is a sexist and ignorant dog whistle and as a fan of the actual Frankenstein novel, I am furious.

1. First there is the false implication that Percy Shelley co-wrote Frankenstein. He did not. In fact Mary Shelley revised the 1818 text in 1831. That's AFTER Percy's Death.

This sexism was brought to you by such "reliable" books as "The Man who wrote Frankenstein" which was written by a very sexist conspiracy theorist who once claimed that AIDS was spread through pills. That conspiracy theorist used dummy accounts to positively review his self-published books on Amazon (seriously, go check if you want) and his main reason for believing Mary Shelley didn't really write Frankenstein is his claim that she was "uneducated."

Percy wasn't a novelist. He was a poet. Mary Shelley actually wrote many novels after Frankenstein, it's just that none were as successful as Frankenstein. Just because she wrote her greatest novel while her husband was alive doesn't mean her husband secretly wrote it.

He also claimed a woman cannot have written a man's perspective so well and she wrote from the perspective of three men. Victor Frankenstein, The Creature, and Captain Walton.

By that same reasoning Stan Rice must have written Interview with The Vampire, not Anne. It's a sexist and classist equivalent of the classist conspiracy theories that Shakespeare couldn't have written Shakespeare because he was "Too poor and ill-educated" to have been that creative.

2. One big problem with novels like Frankenstein and Dracula being in the public domain is anyone can re-publish them any way they want, even with this sleezy and misleading presentation.

3. Frankenstein wasn't really a science fiction novel even though Google and this blurb claim it is. Frankenstein, the novel, never warned about the advancement of technology.

There's no hard science in the book. Victor wasn't studying biology. He was studying metaphysics and he never graduated.

(Metaphysics degrees aren't even currently recognized in the US. You can only get an honorary one from institutions like ULC).

Victor found the secret of life while reading the works of Agrippa and Paracelsus. A self-proclaimed sorcerer and alchemist.

The Creature is more like a Dungeons and Dragons Flesh Golem with a soul than what you see in most of the movies.

Its main morals and themes had nothing to do with "Playing God" or "the advancement of science." No. That overly exonerates Victor Frankenstein and those The Creature interacted with. Victor's main crime was rejecting his creation as soon as he came to life, which may have been a metaphor for what we today call Postpartum depression.

The themes were about parental responsibility, the futility of revenge, and the need to forgive.

If you have a shred of integrity or respect for women do NOT buy this edition of Frankenstein that falsely credits Percy Shelley and feels like it was being described by someone who only watched the 1931 movie. (The more accurate to the book film adaptation is the 2004 Hallmark mini-series version starring Luke Goss as The Creature.) If you want a good edition of Frankenstein, I strongly recommend the 1831 version republished with Bernie Wrightson's gorgeous illustrations accompanying it. That one is exceptional and respectful to Mary Shelley without falsely crediting Percy Shelley.

Here's the blurb that was attached to the awful edition:

"That’s right, the very first science fiction novel is also a work of transhumanism, though I’m not sure Mary Shelley would have used the term. After all, the monster wouldn’t even exist without technology. So even the earliest sci-fi novel was trying to warn us about the dangers technology poses to our humanity."

[synchodai]

I agree with you completely. I also think the team helming this thing aren’t very mature and they put their tantrums into whatever part they write, ignoring everything else. Like you can always tell when Hess is running things, Daemon all of sudden does things to paint him negative that he never did, or couldn’t have done in the books. And when Ryan is in charge all we get is Allicent propaganda throwing in Rhaenyra wherever he can to push that ridiculous fixation on them he has.

But both of them got so angry how much everyone loved Daemon. And they didn’t want us to or think we should. There’s interviews you can almost hear them pouting 😆 These people are supposed to be professionals and they are making their job personal when it definitely should not be.

The result is a mess and a whole season that Ryan says is Daemon atoning for the sins of his past. It’s all ridiculous. And I don’t even know what they are doing with Rhaenyra. Omg Blood and Cheese, their ineptitude is broadcast so loud in the decisions made for that.

It truly is a shame HOTD was not written by true professionals that are good at their job, and understand the responsibilities of it. The amazing writers we could have, and should have had.

Firstly, I appreciate you sharing your thoughts with me, anon! Thank you.

Secondly, this is nothing on you, anon, but I'm not really onboard with the fans' tendency to assume things of individual writers or paint them as dumb hacks who are outright disrespecting the source material. Fire and Blood isn't a sacred text and poor adaptations aren't a crime, so I try not to speak poorly of them as individuals and focus my criticism on the work itself. (And while I think HotD could have been better adapted, I still think it's good overall, especially in the realm of 90s fantasy lit adaptations *cough*Wheel of Time*cough*)

I've received a couple of messages like this one that have been even more accusatory (for a lack of a better word) towards HotD writers like Condal and Hess, and I've left those unpublished because I didn't want to give space to that kind of vitriol. I published this ask because anon here is tame in comparison and still had criticism grounded in the actual show. I know a lot of ire directed at the showrunners comes from things they said in supplementary interviews or their social media — stuff that I don't really read or seek out, so I don't really engage with discussions on the show's paratext. (Although I do see some of that in passing on my dash sometimes, it's mostly contextless snippets that are hard to comment on.)

Condal, Hess, Patel and whoever else are just one person in a massive crew. Cinematography, acting, directing, and even marketing all play a huge role in the final product. Yes, Condal is the showrunner who is ostensibly in charge of keeping everyone executing the same vision and for that, he deserves to be criticized if not everyone is on the same page. But I also don't know what external forces he's beholden to. Season 2 of HotD was filmed during the 2023 WGA Writers Strike, so that could very well have contributed to the lack of continuity and character cohesion that could have been ironed out by on-set writers.

I understand the fans' frustrations because I am MEGA frustrated a lot and the whingiest of whingers when it comes to HotD. But whether we think their work is good or not, the writers who worked on this are still true professionals in that this is their living. And prior the Writers Strike, they weren't even making a very good living out of it and had to fight to be involved during production. Before that, most shows would just have writers churn scripts pre-production and never involve them again.

Please, do criticize the show! Analyze the writing and pull it apart to your heart's content! Criticize Condal's adaptation choices and ability to run a show (without making assumptions about their person ofc because we don't know them). But also keep in mind that HotD is a huge collabarative work and writers make for easy scapegoats.

[lordmartiya]

A More Discrete Calling Out, a Miraculous Ladybug fanfic

Summary: What if Ladybug had been calmer and more discrete in calling Lila out for her day 1 lies?

Hey, it's me again for @mlsecretsanta exchange, this year for @lajudit I'm basing Lila's characterization on her Volpina appearance, plus the idea she's just a teenager doing teenager things. I mean, who didn't do stupid things at 14? Now on with the story.

Lila was happy with her first day at the new school. She had made an impression on most of her class (though not the class representative. The poor girl was horribly sleep deprived, and there was nothing to gain from waking her up), got the class hottie’s attention to listen to her (and to top it off he was the only son of Gabriel Agreste. A possible in for a modeling career), set up a massive prank that would make her the talk of the school, and got a cute fox-themed necklace. She knew nothing could ruin her day now.

Then a hand grabbed her and pulled her in a side halley, and she was face to face with a hotirate Ladybug.

“Uh… Hi?” Lila said.

“Hi, best friend.” the superheroine said, her voice dripping with sarcasm (maybe she hadn’t appreciated the prank). Then she pulled out her yo-yo, that apparently doubled as a communicator, and showed her a video – the interview with Cesaire, straight from the Ladyblog. “Care to explain?”

“She published it without verifying?!” Lila whisper-screamed, looking in horror at the yo-yo.

“Wait, what?”

Lila started hyperventilating. This was bad, her castle of cards was going to collapse the wrong way, and she was going to need to lock herself in her house until she was twenty! Or go for that weird plan and turn her hair into a wig while fabricating some identity and use it to get a new life, and-

“Calm down and breath with me.” Ladybug said as she put Lila’s hand on her back.

And from there Ladybug helped Lila out of her panic attack. Because of course one of Paris’ Heroes would learn to help with panic attacks.

“So… What was supposed to happen?” Ladybug asked once Lila was calmer.

“Just… Just a big prank.” Lila admitted. “My mom’s a diplomat, so we move around the world all the time, and when I get to a new school I like to try and see what I can get my new classmates to believe, and with the new class full of big names and a girl that thinks I’m actually a friend of Prince Ali rather than friendy acquaintances I decided to go big, and the Alya Cesaire calling me out was supposed to be when I pulled the rag from under everyone! She was supposed to check with you before publishing, and then give me the chance to tell everyone to guess which of my tales were true!”

“Why did you think Alya would do that? Or even could?”

“Well, I thought the exclusive interview…”

“One of her friends had accidentally deleted a video for the Ladyblog, found me, and asked me for the interview to repay her. Alya had already saved a copy, but I did it anyway.”

Lila’s palm met her forehead at terminal velocity.

“Then why didn’t she hunt you down?” Lila asked. That was what she would have done, publishing such a video with the notoriety of the Ladyblog could be suicidal.

“Because when I’m involved she stops thinking things through, and rationalizes after the fact.” Ladybug replied, exhasperation (and fondness?) clear in her voice. “I mean, the whole Lady Wi-Fi incident happened because she thought Chloé Borgeouis was me in spite of seeing me saving her in my second outing, and right after she came up with the idea I had Lucky Charmed a fake Chloé to throw off investigators…”

That was surprisingly plausible, if one didn’t know Ladybug can’t conjure living stuff – something she actually had only explained in the exclusive interview. Lila wondered why the heroine was so sure Cesaire had come to that idea only after the Lady Wi-Fi incident. Better not ask, such a train of thought could potentially lead her to stumble on her secret identity and she didn’t want nor need both the knowledge and the danger of knowing.

Speaking of knowing...

“Were you into my school’s library earlier?” Lila asked, remembering the flashes of red she had spotted.

“NO! Why would I be there?! There was nothing for me to look for!” Ladybug denied. Badly.

“Well, my guess was that you have some kind of surveillance in place due the far too many Akumatizations and spotted a certain suspicious thing or were after me for the interview, but now…” Lila made a point to try and tease Ladybug if she ever had the chance again, her faces were adorablehilarious. But pleasure could wait, she had more pressing things to do. Like giving her a certain book. “Nevermind why you were there, you certainly spotted this.”

“Why do you have it?”

“There’s Chinese-style drawings of what look like Miraculous and their users, every page has enough nonsense in nyctography to make me think it’s a code based on Chinese writing, and one page had a drawing that looks weirdly like an ancestor of mine that family lore says wore that exact costume, was involved in weird stuff, and liked to play with illusions and tricks. There’s enough to make me think it has to do with Miraculous, meaning you would want it and I was in the right place to help. Also, I need to ask my grandmother about family lore.”

Ladybug blinked for a moment, processing how she just stumbled on someone who was apparently related to a past Miraculous user, then summoned a micro camera through her Lucky Charm.

“I’ll make copies of all pages, then you give the book back to Adrien before his father goes mad.” Ladybug explained.

“Wait, you decide what to conjure?” Lila asked.

“I can, but it’s usually better left to the magic. Also, no more lies about us being friends, that could turn out to be dangerous if Hawk Moth believes it.”

“But that one wasn’t a lie, it was a prophecy.” Lila replied, pointing out how their interaction had more or less made them friends after Ladybug saved her from a mess partly of her own making.

“Just… Just try and stay safe.”

________

Given the circumstances, Lila had abandoned the plan to impress Adrien. Sure, he was cute and well connected, but a boy she barely even knew wasn’t worth a friendship, even a tentative one. Though she had given him a scare by asking him where the book was before giving it back – seriously, that was an obviously antique book. And you keep antique books safe, no matter how much or how little someone was willing to pay (and if someone had paid three millions and two hundred thousand dollars for Action Comic #1, she didn’t even want to Imagine how much this book could be valued if the right people found out about it).

The next day at school she had been approached by Gabriel Agreste’s secretary (and almost certainly the actual bodyguard. The other guy was large and intimidating and moved quite gracefully for someone his size, but this woman looked like someone who had killed before), who informed her the scare was the only reason Adrien was simply grounded after school for a week and politely asked not to do anything like that again.

Then, after collecting herself from the second most terrifying encounter in her life, she went to class and fessed up on the attempted prank chain – better face some anger now rather than face a castle of cards that could collapse the wrong way and turn her into a pariah any moment. And of course Alya Cesaire was pissed.

“Alya, did you check with Ladybug before publishing that interview?” said the pigtailed and really cute class representative, one Marinette Dupain-Cheng, right as the Ladyblogger was about to start.

“Uuuuhhhh…” Cesaire replied, her rant stopped before it could start.

“It’s my fault. I thought she could contact Ladybug with ease, and did the wrong thing.” Lila admitted.

“If I could I’d have already asked her her real identity.”

“By how she reacted to the interview, and no, we’re not friends” or rather she wasn’t gonna admit it in public now that it was true “that would be the fastest way to piss her off.”

“But how can she get rewarded for her heroism?!”

Oh. Good intentions and utter ignorance of how countries dealt with that. There were international regulations about that, as nobody wanted to either enrage a superhero or force them to quit to make a living.

“Obviously through the special account she got from the City of Paris, with money coming from either the state police or the defense budget, as per United Nations regulations.” the blonde Chloé Borgeouis, class bully and daughter of the mayor of Paris and the Queen of Style, obnoxiously pointed out. And reigniting Cesaire’s anger by pointing out that fact in the worst possible way without being vulgar.

As Marinette moved in to prevent an argument, Lila decided she liked it there. Sure, it hadn’t gone as expected but her classmates were interesting in the right way. And who knew, maybe she’d get to stand out for more than her mother or her tales.

[andiatas]

Russian princess's flirtation with Stellan Skarsgård: "Handsome"

Princess Olga struggles to make ends meet and dreams of appearing in "Big Brother". In an interview with Dagens Nyheter, she says she is disappointed that they do not pay for the interview but happy to get publicity in Sweden, which she hopes will reach Stellan Skarsgård.

- He is very handsome, she says.

Photo: Dagens Nyheter

Princess Olga, 74, is related to the Russian Tsarist Romanoff family, who were assassinated by Lenin's Bolsheviks in 1918. Her father was Andrei of Russia, grandson of Tsar Alexander III and nephew of Nicholas II, Russia's last Tsar.

Like most other surviving Romanoffs, her family fled Russia when the Revolution began in 1917, and the Russian Civil War raged. They managed to get to the Crimean Peninsula, where the family had a residence, and then, with the help of the British Navy, they managed to get to Great Britain.

Olga Romanoff grew up in Great Britain on the Provender House estate dating back to the 13th century and is more likely to be considered British than Russian. She has previously stated that she only knows three Russian words.

In an interview with Expressen in 2019, she talked about the tough growing-up years where well aware that large parts of her family had been murdered, she was teased for her background as a princess.

The family became poor

Her childhood, she says, is reminiscent of "Downton Abbey".

- I recognized my mother's way of speaking when I saw it. She was born in 1908, and she came from that era. When going to London in her Rolls-Royce, she used to call and ask them to send a driver down here by train. Then, when he had driven her back in the evening, he had to take the train up to London again.

She belonged to high society in Great Britain, and her mother pushed for her to marry according to status - preferably to Prince Charles. As you all know, it didn't turn out that way.

She did marry and had several children, but has been seperated for 30 years. In 2000, she moved back to Provender House to take over the management of the estate and got a bit of a shock.

- I always thought that I was very wealthy and that my mother had lots of money, she has previously said.

It turned out that the family was anything but wealthy. After her father died in 1981, her mother struggled to make ends meet. The consequence was that the goods almost fell into disrepair.

"Stellan Skarsgård, yes he is very handsome"

Extensive renovations have been required over the years and are still needed. Olga Romanoff's solution has been to open up and rent out parts of the house. But it has also been to [opening up/becoming public].

Through Romanoff's family ties to the British royal house, she has appeared in the television series "The Queen's Cousins", "Keeping up with the Aristocrats", "Celebrity Big Detox", and the documentary series "The Royal House of Windsor".

But when she applied for "Big Brother," she got the nob. She tells DN that her sights are set on "I'm a celebrity... get me out of here," which is described as a celebrity variant of "Robinson."

- You get to do funny things like eat kangaroo penises. Although they have certainly been sterilized. And they pay well. Nigel Farage is said to have received a million and a half pounds to participate.

She has her sights set on getting paid well. In the interview, she expresses her disappointment that DN does not pay her for the sit-down.

- But on the other hand, I get publicity in Sweden. Who knows, maybe I'll find a Swedish boyfriend. What is the name of the actor in "Mamma Mia"? Stellan Skarsgård, yes, he is very handsome.

Article by Johan Bratell for Expressen, published July 3, 2024, which is a summary of an interview (behind paywall) by Dagens Nyheter, also published July 3, 2024. Translation and editing for clarity is done by me.

[luminalunii97]

Can I be happy for 5 minutes without the regime's lobbyists fuckin it up?!!! apparently not! I watched the Time video yesterday and then went to Instagram to see a lot of posts like this. I realized I haven't read the article which unlike the video was filled with misinformation. Halfway through it takes a wild turn into lying. I knew I shouldn't have trusted Time. Seriously, you almost did it but then you didn't.

This is the nth time a misleading or misinformative article is published in western Media. This is how the regime manipulated west for so long. I remember years ago, when Iranian feminists tried to talk about all the sexist misogynistic ways of the islamic republic, people like Azadeh Moaveni were there to shut them up with sophistry and fallacy. Claiming wild lies like "it's our culture". Misogyny is no one's culture. It's a cancer. And when women try to fight it you should stand with them not against them.

This is Hoda Katebi, a NIAC member. She has posed as such a good poor Muslim woman of color in west for so long. No one dared to criticize her because they'd get an islamophobe label fast if they challenged her. Look how unashamedly she lies here. How she defends the mandatory hijab and undermine the violence Iranian women deal with everyday in Iran. She's wearing clothes that are NOT considered a proper hijab in Iran. Back then the hijab rule was if not more, as strict as today. You've seen Mahsa Amini clothes when she was arrested. Her style was more modest that what Hoda is wearing here and is claiming "not tempting for lashing". But even if she wasn't unabashedly lying, that's not the fucking point. If only a certain group of women are safe in Iran, aka hijabi women, it's discrimination and IT'S NOT OK.

People like Hoda and Azadeh have tried to show a mellow image of the regime for years in west. Showing pictures of women with loose hijab to west to say "see this is how women dress in Iran and no one bothers them". While in reality even if some women dressed like that, they were doing something illegal, and were in danger of getting arrested and punished. I hope you've seen the morality police brutality videos that ended up getting so out of hand it caused a young woman's death. In reality I had to check "Gershad" app on my phone everytime I wanted to leave my house even though my clothes have always been a lot more modest that what Hoda has shown in her pictures of Iran. (Gershad is an app that was developed by people for people. It's a map where you can report anywhere you see a morality police car so that others can avoid them. It wasn't always 100% accurate, but it helped!)

In another blood boiling bullshiting by her, she suggested the way to help iran is to disband sanctions and "don't worry because NIAC is on it"! Because that makes sense! How can we stop a regime that's murdering women and children and violates every human rights ever?! By giving them financial and political power!!!!! So that they can violate human rights better and with less worry!

Farnaz Fassihi is another NIAC member who tried to convince USA to lift the sanctions by writing that notoriously misleading "out of reach dreams" article in new york times. And I just realized her co-writer, Vivian Yee was the journalist who wrote the other misleading article about morality police getting abolished.

In case you don't know what NIAC is, it stands for National Iranian American Council. It's a council that unofficially aids the islamic republic regime to push their propaganda in USA and west. Their number one priority is to fight anything that could lead to a regime change. Therefore they try their best to convince west that Iranians are only protesting for reform. Meanwhile we're screaming revolution here.

NIAC influence needs to be restricted in US so that Iranian people and activists can raise their voices. But we've seen the opposite of that happening. They get invited to various interviews and conferences and they have journalists in famous publications like new york times. Please share the word to help stop their reign.

Ps, most iranians are pro sanctions at the moment at least because we're trying to break the regime financially, therefore the calls for national strikes. Anyone with a little common sense would understand that sanctions help the cause now. Other than that, sanctions sound sinister because they've made people poor. But almost all of them directly targets IRGC, the terrorist organization that kills people in iran and in middle east, while using their share of profits in almost every industry in Iran. They're killing people with rubble bullets! Do you think with lifting sanctions they'd use money, power and nuclear energy for humanitarian causes?!

[slimeydreamer]

Jasper Bluewright: A tale of Plagiarism

I had just moved into a very shitty apartment in New York City. I had managed to get a job in the city as an intern to an editor for a large magazine company. I didn't hate my job per say, but there were many days in which I wished that my boss (the editor) never woke up.

A common way I spent my free time was through writing short stories that kept me entertained. These stories weren't anything that I wanted to be made public; they were just a way that I handled my stressful job. I often wrote these short stories at a hole-in-the-wall cafe in Queens. I liked the atmosphere of the place, since it was warm and inviting. The coffee was delicious too.

Between the cafe and writing, I was able to handle a whole two years working for the evil editor. My stress levels had decreased significantly, my panic attacks had gone down by 50%, and I was able to line up a better position at a closer job. All seemed to be going well in my life. That's when Jasper Bluewright started showing up at the cafe.

Jasper Bluewright seemingly grew famous overnight for his harsh opinions towards Social Classes. He had written several books about income disparities in America, with him trying to convince his audience that any day now, the "evil lower-class" could rally up against the "defenseless rich", which is why America must get rid of the middle class further. He often tried to prove these claims by "watching lower-class people in their natural habitat", which was essentially him going to common areas in New York, writing about what he saw and spinning the story to be poor VS rich (with the rich coming out on top, of course). Jasper seemingly decided the cafe was the target for his next book.

Jasper himself was an odd man. His face looked like a rich man from the time of the Founding Fathers, but then you looked at his outfit, which was a look ripped right off a Balenciaga runway. After entering the cafe and seeing my laptop, Japer decided to "interview me" for his book, which was mostly him just gushing about how amazing it is for him to be born rich and grow even richer off his novels. He then demanded to see what I was writing to "prove" that the work of a poor woman was nowhere near as interesting as the work of a rich white man.

Jasper then read one of my short stories, and immediately changed his tune. He told me that "despite my condition" he was willing to offer me a position at his publishing company (my condition being that I wasn't rich). Before I could blink, all of the stuff in my apartment was moved into Jasper Bluewright's publishing company. I recieved my own desk, my own intern and a paycheck worth four times my paycheck from my other job. All I had to do was sit at my desk and write whatever I wanted. After a few weeks of working at this new job, and not seeing Jasper anywhere, I managed to catch him promoting his new book on TV. The premise of the book was something I had written. I later managed to swipe a copy of the book from my job and read it. It was word for word one of my short stories.

Immediately, I contacted a lawyer about the plagiarism and a trial was set up. Despite me being able to prove Jasper had stolen my work, the public outrage was intense. Fans of Jasper Bluewright's work were convinced I had made up the entire story to piggy-back off his success. It seemed like nothing could change their mind. Eventually, after the trial was dragged out for weeks, Jasper was officially charged with plagiarism. He was also found guilty of using ChatGPT to write his other novels.

In the end, I was able to get "Jasper's" book placed under my name as the author, and live decently off the money from the book. And Jasper Bluewright was sentenced to attend multiple writing classes at a community college (where he later was expelled for using ChatGPT again).

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

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[THREAD]

The most perfect (and almost unbelievable) metaphor for affirmative action: The lives of Allan Bakke (a white guy who challenged racial quotas at UC Davis) and Patrick Chavis (a black guy admitted to UC Davis under affirmative action the year Bakke was rejected). 

After Bakke won his SCOTUS case in 1978 (which ended the use of *overt* racial quotas in university admissions), he finally was accepted at UC Davis medical school. He graduated and eventually began practicing medicine. He kept a low profile, and didn't give interviews. 

Years later, the NY Times, still stinging from Bakke's victory, published a long and glowing account of a “thriving” black UC Davis medical school graduate named Patrick Chavis, noting how he had benefited from the school's old affirmative action quota system. 

Dr. Chavis' story was also featured on TV programs, and senator Ted Kennedy called him a “perfect example” of affirmative action. It was even suggested that Dr. Chavis had achieved more than Dr. Bakke, who graduated a few years after Chavis at UC-Davis. 

State Senator Tom (“Mr. Jane Fonda”) Hayden asked his fellow Californians: “Who made the most of his medical school education? From whom did California taxpayers benefit more?"

Here's Dr. Chavis. He seems nice, doesn't he?

But Dr. Chavis wasn't nice — he was a terrible and spectacularly incompetent doctor, and perhaps, if this is possible, an even worse human being. If the fawning reporter for the Times had done his job and just asked around a little, he would have gotten an earful. 

At the very least, the reporter might have at least been bothered to go down to the court house and dig up records that showed that Dr. Chavis had been sued for malpractice twenty-one times, and had paid settlements on some of those suits. 

But when the NYT has a thesis as important as this one, it usually doesn't want to be hobbled by contradicting evidence or cognitive dissonance. 

Highlights from Dr. Chavis' storied medical career included botched operations at his clinic which killed patients and left others in permanent pain, and — this is rather striking — hiding a patient in his home for two days after she nearly bled to death at his clinic. 

Dr. Chavis' incompetence and disregard for human life finally caught up with him in 1997 when a patient bled to death after he performed a “fly-by-night liposuction” on her and then “disappeared.”

Patients later said they were afraid to report him because of his celebrity. 

With an obviously dead patient and a conspicuously missing doctor on their hands, the California Medical Board California finally acted. Later, that same year, they revoked Dr. Chavis' license. 

In their decision, it cited the doctor's "inability to perform some of the most basic duties required of a physician" and his "poor impulse control and insensitivity to patients' pain."

Special weight was given to that last item. 

A tape recording surfaced of Dr. Chavis chanting "liar, liar, pants on fire” at his patients while they screamed in agony — an extremely idiosyncratic way, to say the least, of soothing them and expressing disbelief at their claims of excruciating pain. 

All told, the California Medical Board brought 90 counts of misconduct and “gross negligence” — probably fair to say a bludgeoning of the Hippocratic Oath — against “the perfect example” of affirmative action. 

If you're finding any of this a little hard to believe, well, I can't say I blame you — it *does*strain credulity.

But wait, it actually gets weirder — PREDICTABLY weirder.

Because, you know, racism. 

That's right, the truly lousy doctor and even lousier human being, now-just-plain-Mr. Patrick Chavis, reached into his back pocket and pulled out the race card, blaming his bad fortune on a particularly virulent strain of structural oppression — “white envy.” 

That sounds interesting. Maybe something the NY Times might want to investigate?

You'd think so, but no — this time the suspiciously silent Times didn't feel it necessary to send a reporter to Cali to capture the thoughts and feelings of its former cover boy. 

So whatever happened to Allan Bakke? Dr. Bakke is retired, finishing his career the way he started it, quietly and with integrity — as an anaesthesiologist at the world-renowned Mayo Clinic. 

Postscript: Patrick Chavis was murdered by carjackers on the streets of Hawthorne, California in 2002, at the age of fifty. He had gone out for an ice cream cone. 

Bakke decision legacy: Very little changed in the UC system. It continues to quietly practice (and quietly celebrate) institutional racism against whites and (especially) Asians.

Just ask the Korean kid who got a 1530 SAT and didn't get in, and the Hispanic with a 960, who did. 

An excellent article (which mentions the above example of the rejected Korean-American applicant) about the persistence of racial preferences in admissions at universities in the UC system .

[jonathanbyersdeservesbetter]

jancy in journalism

jancy would be such a powerhouse couple in the journalism field bc both already went through so much shit that dangerous things just don't phase them anymore. exposing hawkin's lab? that was just the first of many. they would be the first people on the scene getting stories, taking photo evidences and making sure that the media and powerful people don't get to cover it up. Nancy, with her extreme sense of justice (that sometimes it's dangerous to both herself and others) would do anything to get these stories out so victims would get justice. she ensures that every bit of relevant detail is recorded on audio, paper, photos, and video if possible and makes multiple copies and stores it in various, obscure places that she only tells a select few so that if one is destroyed or stolen, she has back-ups. if plan 1-3 falls through, you can bet she has back-up plans for back-up plans. nancy numbers her plans because the alphabet only has 26 letters.

jonathan climbing to dangerous places and getting up close and personal so he'd not only get the best shot, but the most accurate and showing people evidence of what happened. since this would be the late 80s-90s, photoshop isn't really a common thing yet so photos and videos are really the irrefutable evidence. nancy is so proud of jonathan whenever he publishes his photos because while written words can be fake, photos can't (at that point in time). he takes up video-recording as well, and spends a lot of his time improving his skills on taking the best photo/video in record timing so nancy's efforts in contacting victims, getting them into these exclusive but dangerous opportunities are not wasted once the time to get the word out comes.

at first, jonathan wasn't willing to go through this with nancy. he wanted to do rock photojounalism, he wants to listen to music and learn about the bands he interviews because they are what got him through life all these years. music was his only escape for so long and he wants to know why, why does he love it so much? why do they love it so much to make it their lives? but then jonathan thinks about el and her lost siblings, about will and his mom, about himself, that if only they received that kind of support and voice to get help for themselves, and maybe they wouldn't even be in hawkins at this point. maybe el would've been jane and moved away with her mother and they would've never met, and the upside down would've never seeped into hawkins because el never opened the gate. while in the grand scheme of things, a poor family from a small town abused by the man in the house wasn't the most tragic thing in the entire world when you think about the upside down or those in war-ridden countries who may not even make it the next day, but then jonathan remembers those days he went hungry because joyce got sick and couldn't work her regular hours and he gave his food to will, who was so small and sensitive and got sick often. or when what hurt the most wasn't when lonnie beat him or burned his cigarettes on him, but it was seeing him joke around with the officers when joyce finally got her courage to call 911 just for them to laugh at her and call her crazy, that maybe she was the one who put those bruises and just didn't remember.

it was this kind of corrupt power that seems to get into the hands of the worst people that jonathan thinks maybe he can understand a little bit. that maybe he wanted other people to not feel this way or go through this anymore. he got out, so why can't they? if they need just a bit more help, why not? after all, they've all got shared trauma, what's a little more?

their families and friends are worried for them as they travel to dangerous places because unlike the upside-down, these are humans. they're powerful, power-hungry people that would do anything to keep their position, and they're human, unpredictable and have done more evil things than eating people. they're people who can turn an entire country against two 20-somethings from hawkins, indiana, and most importantly, their families and friends can't be with them if that happens. they can't fight through this with brute force because it's the military, it's words, it's power and politics and who-knows-who. no one from hawkins has that kind of power no matter if they saved the world three times already, no matter if they did more for the world than these wannabe leaders that only care for themselves.

anyways jancy as a power couple not only in hawkins but the WORLD. i always thought nancy would make a great investigative or political journalist that won awards and almost die a good handful each year because have you seen her??? and jonathan would tag along bc he admires her ambition and secretly always wanted to help others and make good changes in the world even if he acts aloof and timid. but then i thought closer about it and ofc why wouldn't he???? he's felt powerless all his life and was controlled by the societal circumstances that perpetuates poverty and abuse, and jonathan thought he'd continue the cycle in s4 because that's the only thing he can do with the resources he thought he has. but he just doesn't realize he doesn't have to be stuck! he has a loving family, friends, and hush money from the government definitely helps a lot now. s4 jonathan is a a different person in a different position from s1 jonathan. so he realizes this as he got older and then upside down was finally dealt with and gone, and he's like, wow! i can do something about my life AND other's life! i only got to this point with support, and if i can do it it, others can do with a little help. also, nancy is ambitious and smart af and has so much righteous anger in her small little body that all she needs is a supportive partner. if that partner shares the same values as her and is willing to put in the world, what's changing the world compared to saving it?

[burner-of-ships]

so i read Lies We Sing To The Sea, and honestly i do not think this book was worth all the drama that surrounded it.

it's a perfectly fine YA fantasy, even complete with a love triangle. i read it in 3 days, it wasn't exactly mindblowing but it was engaging enough and the ending genuinely surprised me. i liked it, but probably won't read it again.

and the entire tag for the book is just people who haven't even read it screeching about how the author, Sarah Underwood hasn't read the Odyssey, and is from England.

and now i feel the need to rant:

right away i'm going to brush away the England point, because it feels like just another symptom of this weird hatred of England that's overcome tumblr in the past few years. sometimes it's funny, like yeah, we are pretty shitty, the monarchy and the British Museum suck, and that should be talked about. i'm not going to act like i'm oppressed because people online make fun of a country i just happened to be born in. but it so often slips over into classism. you lot make fun of poor brits way more than the people in power. funny British accents? working class accents. gross British food? poverty meals. it's punching down.

admittedly, i have no clue what Sarah Underwood's finances were or are like, before or after she sold her book. but my point is that i'm not entertaining this idea that her being English inherently makes her worse, because i don't trust this scorn to be warranted anymore. from white Greek people especially. sorry, but the BM having a few of your statues does not make you an oppressed minority any more than me being from the north of england makes me one, and it's frankly embarrassing for you to keep acting like a non-Greek writing a story set in Ancient Greece is at all equivalent to actual cultural appropriation.

it's not her fault she got a publishing deal and you didn't. be honest for a second, that is what you're mad about, isn't it? that she has a bigger megaphone than you right now. there's no shame in it, all of social media is about trying to grab attention, and drama is good at that, but let's not get too aggressive towards those who don't need to get mad on the internet to get that attention.

as for the not reading the Odyssey thing... first of all i read that whole interview and i can say right away that that interviewer did a shit job. she misspells the name of Jessie Burton, another Greek myth reteller, for christs sake! if the interviewer seemed to Underwood as thick as she seems to me, i don't blame her for fumbling a bit. talking to idiots is hard, and we have no idea how accurately she was portrayed, considering the people publishing the interview clearly did no research or spell checking.

and as someone who has read the Odyssey... no, you really don't need to have read it all to write a story set hundreds of years later, with only one character in common, a character who is given barely any characterisation in the original text. there is one chapter in this book that retells a part of the Odyssey, and i think it did it excellently. you don't need to read about Polyphemus or Circe or Nausicaa to write about the lives of those inside the palace. we don't know how much the author actually did or didn't read, but to me reading the book, it seems like she read enough.

the people who are acting like you have to know the Odyssey inside and out to write anything remotely related to it are snobs, plain and simple. not everybody was lucky enough to get an education in classics. it circles back around to this issue of classism in the UK, only private schools and i believe seven public schools teach ancient languages or classics. picking up The Odyssey from a random bookshelf and reading it with no prior knowledge of the time and place it was set in can be hard! the customs were completely different than they are today! with nobody to explain xenia or nostos or epithets to you, it can be daunting! some translations have great forewords that can help with that, but not all.

is the book a masterpiece? no, it's a bloody YA book! have you seen the absolute deluge that market pushes out? there are plenty of mid books padding out the genre, and this is just one of them. i can name half a dozen better greek myth retellings or YA romance-adventures, and i do always recommend you read the actual classics if you think they'll interest you. all i'm saying is that the book doesn't deserve the absolute slating it's getting, and that Sarah Underwood certainly doesn't deserve this harassment or review bombing. does anybody deserve that, just for writing a silly YA book? sometimes we need to take a step back from the bachannal and really think about who or what we're ripping to pieces in our frenzy.

i'm not gonna sit here and insist you read Lies We Sing to The Sea or praise Sarah Underwood. for all i talk, i can't reach through the screen and touch you, you can do what you like with your time and energy. but if you do share your thoughts or leave a review, then yeah, i think you should have at least read a couple of chapters, at the very least to avoid showing your ass by parroting blatantly false statements. and if you make up your mind on how you feel on it after only a few chapters... well i don't think you have much of a leg to stand on when you complain that she drew conclusions without reading all of the Odyssey.

[knownbyanothername]

there really is like..... an epidemic of older 'qerky' white women abusing younger afabs and telling them it's part of feminism to let them be abused

(putting this under a read more bc of abuse mentions and some slightly more... i guess it turned into a vent? but more in the sense that i started thinking about things. tell me if more warnings r needed)

and to clarify (I'm gonna put that I'm also white and afab so everyone knows where i stand) I'm also well aware that people like this also tend to be horribly transphobic towards transfemmes. and the reason why i say white women is because it's....usually 'cis white woman who thinks by pure virtue as a woman they can like do anything and get away w it because they refuse to acknowledge their own privilege'

but the reason i bring that all up is bc i just remember this... weird as fuck writing professor i had that was basically 'quirky white woman' and was just on purpose extremely bizzare and abrasive because when asked she was 'being the professor she wishes she had' when in reality from my end it made it difficult to go to class and at worst made me absolutely terrified of her

i think of both publishing professors i had who acted as if all writers were dumb babies who needed ~o great publishers~ to make sure they didn't publish anything STUPID or UNMARKETABLE

i think of the business 101 professor i had who put all of us under extraneous circumstances and then justified it with 'well i had to meet my group at 3am so you can too' and acted as if she did some great job of shaping me up when in reality that single class burnt me out so bad it affected my whole college career and just taught me 'no matter how hard you work or how much you cry or beg for help, no one will care or see it so don't try that hard it's not worth it'

i think of the fact that even in college the worst isolation I've felt is from other women

i think about the women's space i emailed asking for an interview for a class project who couldn't even be assed to get my (essentially now deadname) correct when responding to me and talked down to me implying i was wasting their time. i never entered that 'women's space' once during my entire college career, both mortified and realizing i wasn't welcome

no one took the abuse i had suffered seriously because it was from a 'poor old lady' who i was expected to just support like a martyr until she died or i did something to myself. i was taught not to exist.

i think about the fact that every women who i confided in about my abuse in my hometown excused it in some way or another

i think about the fact that it's been mostly other women who essentially defined me as a 'failed girl', even my own parent, and bared me from traditional feminine things that i now finally feel like i can enjoy. it's a miracle i even got an autism diagnosis considering the (female) person i spoke to advised i 'likely don't have adhd' because of the fact i masked and had so many systems, essentially. i was ignored because i wasn't fun quirky, i was 'we're going to act as if you're a failure of an adult but no one will reach out to show you how to do anything'. the response i got from every group i interacted with, implicitly, (of women) was just 'get away from me you fucking freak' without saying that.

all the worst abuse I've suffered, in one way or another, has been from another afab. repeatedly, a circle of time that contorted me to other people.

i think about the fact that i fucking hate most lesbian circles because of how violatile they are, desperate to find the 'imposter' among them, that they make being an asshole their main personality trait.

so when i look at colleen i look at someone i know that at one point my college could have defended. i see one of my many FEMALE professors who decided 'quirky' equated to 'funny emotional abuse'. older women who I've seen repeatedly decide 'i can scold you for not being an adult to my standards but as the matriach I've earned the right to act like a child'

it's a miracle i graduated. well i did, but at the cost of any personhood of mine.

[littlelasagne]

Hi!!! I was curious about your editor job. When did you get into it? Did you do other kinds of work before it? What do you do every day in terms of tasks? What about fulfillment? Is it mentally stimulating? Do you think you get compensated fairly? How’d you develop your skills throughout the years, like were you always good at the tasks associated with being an editor? And maybe work-life balance? These are just example questions, literally anything you wanna say about it sounds perfect! From the way you talk about it in answers, it seems like you enjoy it quite a bit, and I wanted to learn more about it! I find hearing about this kind of stuff really interesting. Coming from a stressed 2nd year uni student who doesn’t know what to do with their life and likes hearing from people that have been post-grad for a while already :,)

Hey!

Long answer below 🤓

I know how you feel, I was totally lost and clueless during my 2nd year. All I knew is that I didn't want to go into teaching. 😅 I got into publishing about a year after I finished my masters in English literature. After I finished at uni, I was volunteering and working in the charity sector with refugees/asylum seekers and was happy pursuing that. On the side, I worked as a freelance editor using the skills I gained during uni. A entry level editorial job came up at a local kids' publisher writing and editing and I managed to get the job! Since then I've worked in two other kids' publishers.

It's a lottttt of work but it's a lot of genuine fun. There are times when I think, wow I get to read this cool story and suggest all these edits, and other times when I hate my life. I love working in children's books - I get to work with different genres as opposed to working at say, an adult publisher that does solely fantasy. In my current role, I work on structural and line edits of middle grade and YA books. In previous jobs I also did copy editing and proofreading.

I have to read A LOT. Constant submissions from authors and agents. While it is fun and I'm so happy to do this for a living, it is mentally taxing like any job. It's one of those jobs that turns a hobby into work 😭. A lot of reading has to happen at home too, my current job has a bit of a poor work-life balance. But it is sadly part of an editor's life and expected from time to time.

Working with authors is a highly fulfilling job. Editors don't get a lot of credit or recognition, but every book you buy has had an editor behind it. Some books may require a ton of rewriting and reworking, all thanks to an editor helping the author and guiding them. It's so satisfying to have a book you edited published - seeing it go from a word doc to a printed book on a shelf. I will say, it's not a high paying industry 😅 but I can't see myself leaving it in the near future.

It's hard to say how I developed my skills for it. Editing can be subjective, and can depend on experience. I've not had any formal editing training, just my degrees in English and a handful of years experience. Reading widely and being able to understand plotting and logical thinking/problem solving is really useful. My manager has been editing for 25 years, and she instantly knows what needs fixing in a first draft. It takes me some time to think things through 😅 I still have a tonne to learn but I'm getting there!

Are you interested in publishing? I don't know what you're studying or where you live, but deffo make use of your uni's career services if you haven't already!! Or even just talking to your tutors for advice. I did, and managed to get interviews to various jobs and advice on grad schemes (even tho I didn't want to do them) that helped me feel a semblance of control lol. There's so many options out there that you may not know about, and you may end up somewhere you never dreamed of, like I did. 😊 You'll be fine!!!

[allisonirish]

Just William

Chapter 2

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of Child Murder, Grief, Incarcerated Parent

Word Count: 1,444

Disclaimer: This story does not follow Scott Cawthon's FNAF games or books. However many of the characters and events are the same or have been adapted. These characters do not belong to me, but the rearrangement of events and character adaptations are my own works.

I hid in my room for the next couple of hours, hoping to stay unnoticed by my family...and William. Sitting on my fuzzy purple beanbag at my wooden desk, I tried to bury myself in a piece of artwork I was finishing. Drawing and painting had become my way of "coping" and it turns out, I'm not too bad at it. I'd even started doing commissions, starting with illustrating children's books and more recently doing posters and murals for businesses.

Despite my numerous complaints, when I turned sixteen, mom told me it was time to get a job. So I interviewed and started my brand new job waitressing at Applebee's. I lasted two months before my manager got sick of my "hopeless negativism". Whatever that means. I didn't really care though, I hated being around all those people who despise me and I told mom so. If I'm being honest, I was too hard on mom last year. She deserves better than me. Tired of fighting with me, frustrated at Michael's poor grades at the time, and exhausted from working three jobs, she gave up. Told me to stay home and be lazy if that's what I wanted. I felt good about winning that battle for about twenty-four hours, that's when the guilt really set in. After apologizing to my mother and with the help of a friend, I began to submit my artwork to publishing companies and after just two weeks, got hired to illustrate a children's book called Bigfoot Loves Pizza. Goofy, I know, but it was a moneymaker and it made mom happy. I was also offered a job as part time waitress and full time graphic designer at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza 2.0. This was shocking to my entire family since the restaurant was owned by...Charlie's dad. And Charlie's dad shouldn't want anything to do with me.

My sweet solitude, sadly, didn't last long enough. A soft knock echoed from my door and I saw Michael slowly peek around it.

"Hi, Lizzie," He walked into my room, dragging his feet. "Mom says it's time for supper."

I inwardly groaned. Mom had been planning 'our first family dinner in nine years' all week. She even dragged me into mashing the potatoes for one of William's old favorites. Cottage Pie. I personally don't like the stuff, less because William likes it and more because I'm not a fan of ground meat. It looks too much like cat food for my taste.

"Tell her I'm busy." I went back to my drawing. It was a large, purple robotic rabbit with a red bow tie and electric guitar. Bonnie the bunny was an animatronic that William made for his first restaurant, Fredbear's Family Diner before I was born. Except now he was one of the main mascots for the restaurant I worked for and I was drawing Bonnie with large, red, star-shaped sunglasses, playing the electric guitar, and surfing a gnarly wave on a red and purple surfboard. Behind Bonnie were the emboldened words

Catch the Last Wave of Summer Fun at Freddy's!

"That's cool." Michael stared over my shoulder. "Is Bonnie your favorite?"

"Yeah, I like Bonnie okay." Bonnie had been Charlie's favorite. I focused on some dark shadowing under Bonnie's sunglasses. Suddenly, I heard a crash behind me and nearly jumped out of my seat. Whipping around, I saw Michael trying to pick up my violin case and music stand he had knocked over.

"Okay, buddy," I helped him put everything back into place. "Maybe we should go down to dinner."

Michael grinned and dashed out of my room, sprinting down the stairs in front of me. As I followed him my thoughts stayed with my violin. Music had become my other way of dealing with my emotions. Music was something I could get lost in, let every single drop of hate, anger, and shame pour out into a song before they can stream down my face. Art is more about control. It's the precise bits of emotion that are patiently and deliberately depicted on a page.

My mother sat at her usual spot on the left side of our large, oaken kitchen table, beaming over the steaming casserole dish in the center. At the head of the table, sporting a barely noticeable smile, only detectable by the slight dimples forming in his cheeks, was William. Michael had taken his spot next to mother and I wanted to kick myself when I realized my normal seat was right beside William. I slunk over and sat down, making sure to scoot my chair a good twelve more inches away from him. I pretended not to hear the sigh I got from my mother and ignored the conversation between her and William about how she hoped he would like dinner, and how he was sure he would and oh how delicious it looked. Michael mentioned how I helped make it and I gave myself a headache trying not to roll my eyes. 

Throughout the rest of dinner I tried to soothe my headache by drinking several large glasses of iced tea and water, and basically ignored everything that came out of William's mouth. He acted nice...too nice. He asked mom about how the house was holding up, if there was anything he could fix, how Michael liked school, how his summer break was going, and what he'd been up to lately. I had just finished my food and was looking for a chance to escape, when William turned to me. 

"How was your school year, Elizabeth?"  

My gaze cut sharply to him, startled. His eyes were shifting, flowing in waves of blue softness and aquamarine steel. 

I shrugged, "I don't go to school."

"Why doesn't she go to school?" William's face bore a hilarious appalled look. 

"Elizabeth is homeschooled," My mother cut in, "and she does mostly college classes online." 

"Because I don't want to spend my time around imbeciles." I mumble, earning a glare from my mother. 

"We just didn't see it as the best option at the moment." Mom gave me a 'don't you dare say another word look'. 

"But Michael goes to school?" William was obviously confused.

My mother was fumbling for words. "Michael does better...socially than Elizabeth. It's just easier for him to...be around so many people."

"You got that right." I mumbled again. 

"Elizabeth Annette," My mother's face threatened corporal punishment if I opened my mouth one more time.  

I bit the inside of my cheek, lifted my chin in defiance, and dared to speak anyway. "Well it's not like it's my fault I can't go to school. In fact maybe I should go to school like Michael!" 

My voice was mockingly cheery and I hoped William caught every hint of sarcasm.

"I'm sure being the daughter of a child murderer will make me immensely popular in school. Who knows maybe I'll even be the homecoming queen and for my speech I can tell the story of how my father stabbed my best friend in her sleep! Wouldn't that be lovely!" 

My voice tipped into a British accent  when I said lovely and I knew my degradation of William had gone too far. My mother's face was a mixture of shock and rage, her fingers gripped hard onto the table, turning whiter than I thought possible. Michael cowered beside her looking as if he was about to cry, and William...WAS SMILING AT ME?!? His pearly white teeth flashed at me, although the grin did not meet his eyes and I could see the indention where his teeth were pulling at the inside of his cheek. 

"Yes, I can see why you wouldn't want to go to school, Elizabeth." He stood slowly, purposefully, but i caught the slight quiver in his hands. "Now if you'll all excuse me I believe I need to go out for a quick fag." 

Mother stood and retrieved the cigarettes and lighter I didn't know William had from the kitchen counter. He had never smoked when I was a child. 

"Thank you dear. Dinner was lovely..err...delicious." He walked out the front door without another word and through the window I saw a small flame glowing. 

I almost sighed in relief until I saw my mother glaring at me. 

"Young lady," If looks could kill I'm sure she would've burned a hole through my head. "We need to have a talk."

With a strength I didn't know she had, being several inches shorter and leaner than I, my mother held my wrist with a pressure that I was sure would leave indentations on my very bones, and towed me to her room. I was in trouble now.

[5sosxqueen]

Poor Lad Is Very Sick

~Part 1~ , Part 2 > , Part 3 >

Enjoy!

Warnings: depictions of illness, vomiting, coughing, difficulty breathing, mentions of hospital

Written in 2018

Published (Wattpad) - Feb 11, 2018

Word Count: 1442

Updates are every Tuesday and Thursday

Also Available on Wattpad and AO3!!!

Part 1:

Michael's POV:

      Luke and Ashton had gone to an interview so I was practicing with my guitar in the back room of the bus when I suddenly heard "Hey Michael...?" I looked up toward the voice and saw Calum in the doorway. Something about his appearance seemed wrong. He was slouching slightly, he was sweating, he kept grabbing at his collar like it was choking him.

     "Hey... You ok there Cal? You dont look so good." I got up and walked up to him to get a closer look at him. He shook his head as I approached him. "What's wrong?" I grabbed his shoulder and felt the heat radiating off of him. "Calum? You're burning..."

     "I think I'm sick. I don't know what's wrong with me. I just don't feel right." He was shaking from standing so long.

     "Let's sit down, ya? Come on." We sat down on the couch. "Now tell me what's going on."

     "I feel really cold, I don't have that much of an appetite, I'm exhausted, and I can't get a good breath in." As if to prove his point, he brought up his fist and coughed into it. "And that." He scrunched his face in pure disgust and looked over at me, causing me to chuckle lightly.

     "Sounds like you might have either a cold or flu bud. Why don't you go lay down for now?" He nodded.

     "Ya ok. Sleep does sound nice right now." He smirked and slowly stood up, before going into a fit. I was smacking his back as he coughed and hacked heavily. "Uggghhh *cough cough* this *cough* is so ann- *cough* annoying." He stopped coughing after a few minutes. "Thanks Michael. I'm going to sleep now." The poor lad looked so drained after that fit. His clothes were almost soaked through with sweat. I followed him out to the bhnks. Even though it was practically only 5 steps away, I wanted to make sure he got to his bunk without any problems.

     "Yell for me if you need me. I'll be right in there. I'll try to keep quiet." I helped him into the bed and tucked him in.

     "Alright thanks Michael. Love you bro." I smiled.

     "Love you too Calum." I rustled his soft hair, before going back into the back room. I decide to just watch some telly on low volume so I could hear him if he calls me. After a while of even more coughing, it died down and turned into soft, little snores. I ended up finding the live interview that Luke and Ash were doing and started watching that.

     I watched it for about 15 minutes before I heard my name called, followed by horrid sounding coughs. I ran over to the bunks and saw Calum attempting to get into a sitting position. I quickly helped him sit up. And he immediately slumped heavily forward from the coughs, trying to breathe. "Calum, you can't do that sit up straight for me... I know it's hard, but you got to try for me. Can you do that?" He nodded and leaned back. I sat beside him on the bed and he leaned into me, his body jolting with every powerful cough. His face was bright red and the viens in his neck were bulging. Suddenly the coughs got even more violent, causing him to jump with a strong gag. He placed a hand on his stomach and tried to breathe, but his breathing was to frantic to calm himself down. I jumped up and grabbed the small bin from the back room and set it in front of him. He continued to cough extensively into his cuffed hand. He gagged with each cough and before I knew it, he took the hand from his mouth and reached for the bin, the fit only getting worse. Coughs turned to gags, which turned to dry heaves and wretches.

     He spit out some phlem and mucus and it didn't look right. I sprinted to the bathroom and grabbed some toilet tissue. I walked back over to him. "This is going to seem really weird, but I need to spit in this next time you get the gunk in your mouth." He nodded and coughed into the scrunched up toilet tissue. He coughed really wettly and spit into it. I took it and opened it up, as gross as it was I needed to see it. I sighed and tossed it into the bin and rushed out of the room, taking the phone out of my pocket and dialed Matt's number. I watched the tv intently and watched as Matt pulled his phone out and ran out of the room to answer my call.

Matt's POV:

     My phone started to ring in the middle of the interview. I took it out and looked at the caller I.d and my face drooped

____________________________________

Ma- Matt, M- Michael

Ma- "Hey Michael, everything ok? I'm in the middle o- what am I hearing in the background?"

M- "Calum. He been having a fit for around 20 minutes. He's on the verge of being sick Matt. He's been spitting out mucous and I had him spit into a was of toilet tissue and it wasn't good. Last I heard, green with red swirled in it, isn't a good combo."

Ma- "Pneumonia..." I sighed out.

M- "Seems like it." He said solemnly.

Ma- "Alright, I'm going to let the interviewer know that we need to cut this short. We will be there as soon as we can. Try to keep him comfortable in the meantime." I hung up the phone and briskly walked back into the room and over to the interviewer.

____________________________________

     "I'm sorry, but we are going to need to cut this short. Somethings come up. I need to take the boys home." I whispered to her. She looked up at me and nodded.

     "Ok go. It's ok." She looked toward the camera and said "OK everyone, we are going to have to cut this off here. I'm sorry guys. Thank you so much for coming boys." They looked up at me with shocked and confused faces before getting up and shaking her hand. They walked over to me.

      "Matt what's going on? Why did you pull us?" Ashton asked, concern evident in his voice.

     "What's happening Matt?" Luke also asked.

      "Michael just called me and told me Calum is really sick. We need to take him to the hospital."

     "WHAT!!" Both boys shouted and ran out the building toward the van in an instant. They didn't want to waste any time getting back to the bus so any questions they had were asked in the van in the way there.

      "What's going on him? What are his symptoms?" Luke asked as soon as I slid into my seat.

      "Calum is showing signs of pneumonia. He's been coughing really bad, almost to the point where he's been sick. He hasn't yet, but Michael says he is really close to puking." We pulled out of the lot and started our 45 minute journey back to the bus.

Calum's POV:

      Oh God I feel so horrible. I have not stopped coughing for around half an hour. "H-hurts..." I suddenenly felt a stabbing sensation in my chest.

     "What hurts Cal?" I placed my hand on my chest. "Fuck!" Michael cursed loudly causing me to jump. "Sorry." I coughed and gagged harshly for another 20 minutes before I felt bile rushing up my throat. I grabbed the bin and shoved my face into it just in time for me to choke up vomit. I heaved and felt Michael rubbing his hand on my back. "I'm sending Luke a text explaining that you've been sick." I nodded feeling to sick to lift my head up. A huge wave of vomit splashed to the bottom of the bin as I began to cough yet again. I reached for Michael and found his leg and gripped it tightly and he looked up from his phone and set it down to rub my back again.

     I really didn't feel right, but between puking and coughing, I couldn't tell Michael anything. I couldn't even get a word out at that point. I felt like I might pass out. I knew that I was not getting remotely enough oxygen.

     Matt, Luke, and Ashton came onto the bus after yet another 20 minutes and as soon as Matt saw me he rushed over and he and Luke got me standing and brought me out to the van. Ashton and Michael watched over me while we were on the way to the hospital.

[kadeuxhyeonju]

KADEU: INDIVIDUAL TASK

; FOR THE RESISTANCE, FOR LOVE, OR FOR MYSELF? An Interview with Vega Gem Owner, Lee Hyeonju

Tell us about Hyeonju’s involvement with the resistance! Did leaving for six months affect his standing?

Hyeonju taps clawed hands against the wooden meeting table that is situated in the secret meeting room of the Vega Gem. His eyes are narrowed in thought as he reminisces his return from overseas three years prior.

“Hmm. A bit, I suppose. I left a notice of my departure with some of my trusted informants. Told the leaders I’d send word of my return when I found what I was looking for. I was hardly missed, though. There are plenty of informants and financial backers for the resistance. I was one of many and I’m not wounded by that knowledge. Six months is a long time to be away, to not be out of the loop. It’s only natural that my standing had fallen a bit by the time I returned. But it didn’t take me long either to reach that original standing.” He smiles wickedly. “I might have been gone for a time, but I assure you I was still very much in contact with many of my connections. And connections are everything if you want to be a good informant.”

How does he feel about Mallick leaving as a leader?

At that, the smile slips from Hyeonju’s lips. He stares down at his hands and is silent for far longer than is comfortable. The ice in his whiskey clinks against the glass as it melts. Finally, the hybrid answers:

“I’m happy for him. Truly. He’s a dear friend, him and his brother, Devjay. He’s responsible and cares for the Clubs in a way no other Clubs Ace has. I’m sure he’s needed as an Ace far more than as a resistance leader. Is this not the change the resistance has been seeking and fighting for for so long?

“Nuisances the both of them for leaving like they did, though. There’s a whole in our leadership…but I can hardly blame that sad, little kitten for that. What happened in Clubs was…unexpected. Mallick isn’t perfect. With that said, I suppose I’m a bit disappointed that we can no longer run in the same circles. Not with that Ace of Heart watching for any connections to the resistance. It’s a shame that everyone knows Mallick was a leader for our group. Now I can’t tease him alongside Devjay.”

Does the Vega Gem sell enough for him to maintain his status as a financial backer?

Hyeonju scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“I suppose you’ve heard those silly rumors about His Aceness no longer visiting my shop? Contrary to widely held belief, Joui’s patronage does not make or break my business. I earned my title as best jeweller in Kadeu long before His Aceness came around. And I’ve kept it, I’ll have you know. When I returned from my trip, Alexei bustled in with six months worth of inquiries as to when I would be back and when I would be taking on commission again.

“Sure, I used my savings I stalked away for the resistance to go on my impropmtu trip, but the last three years of non-stop work have more than made up for the sudden loss of funds for those six months.”

Is he more or less involved than he was before he left?

This time Hyeonju leans back in his chair, head tilted back as he answers, as if bored by the question.

“I wouldn’t be much of an informant or backer if I sat on my ass, now would I? I still gather information through my network. There’s ways to pass on those kinds of things without being caught, you know. And the money? I’m a Heart. No one thinks twice about someone like me ’squirreling’ away money. It’s easy to to pass on funds when the entire continent thinks your faction is full of nothing but theives and greedy bastards. Though…” He pushes forward and leans against the table, arms crossed, a furrow between his brows.

“I haven’t been able to communicate much lately with the leaders. Not after what happened in Club three years ago. Not after Mallick came out as a former resistance leader. In fact, unless it’s one of my regualr informants who doesn’t raise any red flags, I don’t see much of anyone from the resistance. It’s almost like I’m communicating with ghosts…”

Did he apprise Idris of his involvement with the resistance?

Worried, contemplative expression twists into one of suspicion and…protectiveness, perhaps? Hyeonju answers, but his flash of fangs is almost threatening. His eyes glint with something dangerous.

“How do you know about Idris? I suppose it doesn’t matter if you won’t be able to speak of it later.

“Yes, I told him. I told him of everything I’ve been up to these nearly 50 years since I last saw him. I told him things I never would have told him when we first met. I told him of my life. What is spoken to Idris will never leave that Fae’s lips. I trust him. So I told him.”

Hyeonju leaves it at that, refusing to answer any more questions about the Fae.

How does he see his position changing or evolving in the future?

The hybrid, wound up tight from the previous question, relaxes just a bit. His eyes take on a curious look.

“Changing? Evolving? What could I offer that I haven’t already? I certainly won’t offer my life. I joined this cause so I could keep it, thank you. The only way I could see any type of ‘change’ or ‘evolution’,” he mocks, “is if they decided to appoint me as a leader. And I assure you I have no interest in having so many lives under my care. It takes all my effort to look out for myself. I leave that work to those like Mallick and Fallon.”

Do any of his personal goals relate to the resistance itself or the movement?

Ah, this is a tried and true question Hyeonju has no problem answering. He speaks without hesitation.

“The movement. The resistance is simply a tool to get what I want. Isn’t that what it is for everyone else? If I put my goals into an entity of such impermanence, I would lose sight of my goals the moment the resistance fell apart. It’s a fool’s belief to think your goals are what make up the resistance. It’s the unspoken agreement between us all to work together to achieve our individual goals.

“What are my goals? The same as always. Freedom. Not the kind that requires you to run away to attain it. The kind that lets me rip out the throats of those who would dare strip it from me in the first place.”

With that, the interview concludes. Hyeonju holds out a hand so suddenly it startles the interviewer.

“A horribly invasive chat that was. Let’s never do it again shall we?”

The interviewer nods quickly, not liking the look in the hybrid’s eye. They make a beeline for the exit. A manabeast appears before the interviewer suddenly, sending them sprawling across the floor. The scramble back, trying to get away from the large, vicious beast. Behind them, claws sink into their neck, drawing blood. They can feel it running down their back, soaking their shirt. Hyeonju’s voice murmurs pleasantly in their ear even as the manabeast growls only a few feet away.

“Did I not say earlier that I wouldn’t allow you to speak of any of this? Letting you live is too much of a gamble. I apologize, but I’ll make it quick.”

Chills go up and down the interviewer’s spine, their heart beating in double time. A deep chuckle rumbles in their ear.

“What a shame, sending a human into a fox’s den.”