#same thought process as Sunday: he could be a shit unit and I would still get him

[cheriafreya]

my brain at 4am: holy shit HSR x Fate Stay Night collab next year.......

[helliontherapscallion]

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Thursday (Part 2)

Monday     Tuesday     Wednesday     Thursday (Part 1)     Friday     Saturday     Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: panic attacks, swearing, puking, concussions, mentions of injuries/bullying, homophobia

Word count: 5,138

After school, you were sitting on the couch as you furiously typed on your keyboard at an extremely fast pace. You were on a roll with these essays, they were probably going to be finished by the time you had to go back to the school to get on the bus with the team. You figured that you could even finish Annie’s essay and get started on Sammy’s US history presentation on the sociopolitical climate of the United States in the mid twentieth century to today. However, instead of covering a variety of topics like the rubric requested you to do, you were only going to talk about the significant events that happened to the LGBT+ community starting with Stonewall and going to Obergefell v. Hodges. You were also going to go in depth about how even if there are more opportunities available and more laws set in place to protect for LGBT+ people in the present then there were in past, members of the LGBT+ community still suffer heavy discrimination in the workplace and in the public. With receipts of course, the assignment required a minimum of three pictures per slide, and the group chat was a perfect source.

After that was done, you would email Sammy’s teacher (you had her last year for US history and you knew that she had a son in the grade below you currently transitioning from female to male) that you were the one that did her project and send screenshots of Sammy calling you slurs. Luckily for you, you had receipts of her being transphobic in the past that you could also send. Everything was effortlessly falling into place for you today. 

As you were typing, the front door swung open and two overly excited fifth graders ran into the house and up the stairs. A tired Schlatt followed them. “I will never know how the hell Phil keeps up with them.” 

“I dunno, maybe because he’s already raised three kids before.”

You watched as your uncle jumped and whipped his head over towards you, his hand clutching his chest. He lightly glared at you, “christ kid don’t do that, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

You smirked at him before turning back to your laptop to continue typing the essay. You were almost done with the conclusion paragraph on Annie’s essay and you wanted to get to Sammy’s presentation as fast as possible. As you were typing, you felt a warm air fan across your neck and your uncle’s voice right next to your ear, “whatcha typin?”

You lept off the couch and almost fell into the coffee table before steadying yourself and deadpanning at Schlatt. “I was typing an essay before you interrupted me.”

He snorted, “it looked like you were on a roll, just thought I’d see what my beloved niece was writing. Can I read it?” 

Your eyes lit up as an excited grin split your cheeks, “yeah, but lemme catch you up real quick. Adrian, Sammy, and Annie got mad at me a few days ago and wanted me to do some homework for them as a sort of payment. But after they pulled that little stunt in the lunchroom yesterday, they decided to be little bitches to me and call me slurs. So naturally, I decided to change the essay prompt into an in depth analysis about discrimination LGBT people face from their peers on the daily. My english teacher’s really against homophobia and the project’s worth twenty five percent of our overall grade, so it’s perfect.”

While you were rambling on and on about your detailed plot for revenge, Schlatt couldn’t help but be proud of the person you’d become. A major part of him was impressed that you came up with a detailed plan so quickly, that meant that his cunning nature was rubbing off on you and that made him ecstatic. Sure you mentioning not being straight was new to him, but he was prepared to accept you for whatever you identified as. He didn’t care how people identified, he just cared if they were good people. And his niece was one of the best kids he knew. He’d let your slip up slide for now until you felt comfortable enough to properly come out to him. 

“That an amazing plan, fuckin brilliant. Though, you could do more.”

That piqued your interest, “I’m listening.”

“Do you have any blackmail?”

Your eyes glinted with sudden understanding, “why yes I do, uncle dearest. I just so happen to have thousands of texts from them talking shit about each other and basically the entire school. And them being incredibly racist. They would be destroyed if that came out.” 

“Two things. One, never call me that again. Two, perfect. Keep it as leverage if they try to do something. You don’t pull out all the good cards in the first round, you wait for the right moment to strike so you can win. You need to constantly defend yourself against other players and anticipate their every move. If you leak everything right now, you won’t have anything to use against them if they have something up their sleeve you didn’t know about. Patience is key in things like this.”

You absorbed every single word that came out of his mouth like it was the holy gospel. Although he was your uncle and you loved him with all your heart, but he was a sly bastard when he wanted to be. He knew his way around fighting and manipulating people just right, so you were incredibly happy that you were on his good side and he absolutely adored you. Though questionable and morally gray, he was giving you advice because he cared about you and you’d be an idiot to not heed his advice. 

“That’s genius, Uncle Schlatt. What would I do without you?”

“You’d get along just fine without me, you would’ve gotten there eventually. You’re smart. I’m just givin you a little push in the right direction.”

“I honestly would’ve never thought about waiting, I was so dead set on getting revenge that I would’ve just leaked everything all at once. I want them to feel how I felt when they were around me. I-” you paused. Would this make you the same as them? You’d be screwing up all their grades, Adrian’s job, and Sammy’s athletic career. You came to the chilling realization that you’d be the same as them. You’d be as manipulative as they were. “...Uncle Schlatt, would that make me the same as them?”

“Fuck no! You’re always gonna be better than them no matter what. When they’re at their best, you’re always gonna be a whole lot better than them. They deserve what’s happening to them, it sounds like they put you through so much shit the past few years. I actually think you could do a whole lot worse to them if you’re willing to put more work in, but it’s your plan and if you think that what you’re doing is too much,” he darkly chuckled, “you wouldn’t like my idea.”

“You’re right, they deserve everything I have planned for them. God, I don’t know what I was thinking, ‘would that make me the same as them,’” you mocked what you said earlier, “what a load of shit. Anyways, thanks Uncle Schlatt. I’m gonna get back to writing this. They’re due tomorrow and I wanna finish as much as I can before I have to go.”

“Alright, whaddya want for dinner? Phil’s gonna be like thirty minutes late from work so I’m cookin tonight.”

Oh no. No, no, no, no. That man can barley cook boxed mac n cheese, let alone anything else. He’d burn down the house if you left him alone in the kitchen with the stove. “On second thought, why don’t I help you with dinner? We can make some chicken alfredo.”

“Awe, you’d rather hang out with me than finish your homework? Ya really do love me. C’mon let’s start.”

The process of making dinner was… interesting. Multiple times, Schlatt almost spilled boiling water on himself and he even managed to burn the pasta while it was in the water. How he even managed to do that you’d never find out, you had your back turned cutting up vegetables and herbs at the time. That was when you subtly started to take over in the kitchen, giving him smaller tasks while you handled everything else. You felt bad for Tubbo, his father can’t cook for shit. 

By time you finished, about an hour passed and Philza had come home and changed out of his work clothes. The two adults sat at the table discussing something that you didn’t pay attention to while your brothers and cousin were in the living room waiting for you to finish dinner. Finally, you set the table and it was time to eat. 

Because you couldn’t have many fatty foods before any matches or practices, you had made a separate plate for yourself that only had plain pasta, chicken, and broccoli. You were surprised with how well it turned out, you were following an iffy recipe you found on the first link Google brought up. 

After dinner, you went upstairs to put your uniform on and pack a little bag full of things you might need: a small blanket, some snacks, a water bottle, and a portable charger. Oh, and fuzzy socks and a pair of crocs. You could never go wrong with fuzzy socks and crocs. Feeling a vibration in your pocket, you pulled out your phone.

Hales : )

(Y/n), I’m omw to your house

Gonna give you a ride to the school

(Y/n)

Hales you don’t have to give me a ride, I can drive

Hales : )

Don’t care

Omw, be there in like 7 mins

You swiped out of yours and her conversation and opened up the family group chat

(Y/n)

I don’t need a ride to the school, Haley’s giving me one

She’s gonna give me a ride home too

Dadza

Alright, thank her for me

Tell her I said good luck too!

Uncle Schlatty Patty

Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do

Dadza

(Y/n), do everything he wouldn’t do

Uncle Schlatty Patty

Fuck you I’m a good influence

Dadza

You’re really not

Wilby

^^^^

Technology Sword

^

Uncle Schlatty Patty

Fuck all of you 

You heard Haley’s car pull into the driveway and dashed out of your room with your bag. Just as you put your hand on the doorknob, a hand stopped you.

“Coat.”

You grumbled as you reached past Philza to grab your coat. After you slipped it on, you were pulled into a hug. “You’re gonna do great out there. I know you’re gonna win this, we’ll be watching in the stands.”

“Damn right she’s gonna do good, she’s my niece after all.”

Schlatt pulled you away from your father’s hug and tried to ruffle your hair before you swatted away his hand, “don’t. You have no idea how long it took me to get a perfect ponytail. I have an ungodly amount of hairspray and bobby pins in my hair right now.”

“Fine. You’re gonna kick their asses tonight.”

Tommy and Tubbo pushed past Schlatt and both tackled you into a hug making you stumble slightly back. 

“Kick their asses good (y/n)!” Tommy cheered, making you crack up before one stern glance from Philza completely stopped you. “Tommy, don’t say that. (Y/n), not funny.”

“Alright, Haley’s waiting for me. I gotta go, love you guys!” As you turned to walk through the door, you could hear your family following you and shouting “good luck”. You felt heat creep up on your cheeks as Haley rolled down her window and wove at your family with the biggest grin on her face. 

“Thank you! We’re gonna take home the gold for sure!”

You hopped in her car as she rolled up the window and chuckled. “I love your family, they’re always so full of energy. It’s refreshing to see compared to how boring my family is.”

You glanced at your entire family gathered on the front porch. Tommy and Tubbo were practically vibrating with excitement, Wilbur and Techno calmly smiled and wove at you, Philza was grinning widely at you as you saw his mouth forming words that you couldn’t hear or read, and Schlatt was grinning cheekily at you. You raised your hand to wave at them as they vanished from view when Haley pulled out of your driveway. You smiled softly, “I love em too.”

The car ride was relatively quick with the same soft indie pop music floating from the speakers and an easy going conversation with Haley about the match tonight. You both thought that you could beat the other team if everyone focused 100% and played exactly like you guys did in practices. If everyone did that, you would be unstoppable. 

Luckily for you and Haley, you were the first ones in line to board the bus so you two got the back seat with Zara and Jazzy sitting across from you guys. The hour long bus ride passed quickly and lively with you four passing around your phone and playing some mad libs, you were sure that by the end of the last game you four were laughing and crying. Sometime in the middle of the trip, you noticed that Haley would start to lean on your shoulder and continuously glance at you as she laughed. You desperately wanted to believe that it was because she liked you, but she was straight and she was your best friend. She was probably trying to make sure you were having a good time. 

When the team had gotten to the opposing school and left the locker room to stretch in the gym, you could hear your family start to scream your and Haley’s names from the front row next to you, Tommy and Tubbo being the loudest amongst them with Philza trying to get them to quiet down so you could focus. You felt your cheeks heat up as you smiled at them and Haley wove enthusiastically back at them. Zara was laughing at you two. Stretching went by in a flash and before you knew it, you were on the court facing the opposing team. 

The first match was won by the opposing team by five points. The second match stretched on and on until it was won by your team narrowly by two points. The team was going to have to shape up in the third match if you guys wanted a chance at winning, the opposing team was good. Before the third match started, Coach Williams called for a time out so you guys could talk about strategy. Before Haley could go back onto the court, you pulled her aside.

“Hales, we need to do what we practiced. The other team won’t be expecting it at all, I’ve been setting you up this entire game. They’re never going to expect you setting me up for a spike.”

“When are we going to do it though? We need a better plan.”

“I’m sure the opportunity will come and both of us will recognize it. We just can’t do it too early in the game though, that’ll ruin their surprise.”

“(Y/n), I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“When do I not Hales? We gotta get gold this year.”

The third round went by with both teams constantly swapping places until you both were tied fifteen to fifteen. You saw the ball flying towards Haley, giving her the perfect opportunity to set you up for a spike.  “HALEY NOW!” 

You watched as her face hardened in determination as she pretended like she was going to spike it by jumping high in the air and stretching her arms back, making the opposing front row players all gather in front of her. Much to their surprise, she launched it towards you as you leaped up and went for the kill. The stinging of the ball hit by your wrist and the smack sound the ball made when it slammed onto the open gym floor was something you’d never forget as the crowd around you went wild over the unexpected play. You could hear the high pitched screaming of Tommy and Tubbo over everybody else. Glancing at them over your shoulder, you saw them jumping up and down on the gym floor and looking at you with awe filled eyes and gaping mouths. The rest of your family looked at you with similar expressions, their cheers echoing in your mind. Winking at them, you turned back to your team and went straight to Haley. Clapping a hand on her shoulder, you pulled her into a quick hug, yelling over the raving of the crowd. “HALEY WE NAILED THAT!” 

“HOLY SHIT I DID NOT THINK THAT WAS ACTUALLY GONNA WORK!”

“You have such little faith in your setter! You wound me Hales.”

“Well, I would have more faith in you if you weren’t chaotic on the court, sweetheart.”

You felt yourself surge in happiness at the nickname, but you couldn’t afford to focus too much on it. Your team only needed one more point to win best in the state and go to nationals. It would be the first time in your team’s history if you reached national level, and you’d be damned if you were the one to screw it up for them. 

The last rotation went on for a while, each team fighting tooth and nail for the state championship title with clashing determination. You tried your best to block every hit and try to set Haley up for a spike, and you were successful for the most part, only missing a few blocks. You saw the setter adjacent to you set the spiker up for a spike and jumped up in time to try to block it, your arms stretched upwards and your palms out. Only, the ball didn’t hit your hands. It collided painfully with your nose, ricocheted off your face with a thwack and sailed over to the other side of the court. Your head whipped back as your body followed suit and flew backwards onto the floor. Without giving you any time to react, your head bounced back and cracked against the polished hardwood floor of the gym. Everything went black. 

“...(y……”

“..(y/n)......”

“(Y/n).”

You faintly heard someone calling someone’s name over the continuous ringing noise. Was it your name? It felt right, so it had to be your name. You peeled your eyes open to see a blurry figure hovering over you. It was swirled with tans, browns, and backs. After a while of the figure repeating your name, it slowly became more recognizable, albeit appearing twice in your vision. It took you a while to figure out who this was before your muddled brain recognized Haley.

“Hales! There’s two o’ya. Twice as beautiful babe…” You slurred out as you attempted to smile at her.

“Oh thank god, PLEASE WE NEED A DOCTOR SHE HIT HER HEAD!” Her usually angelic voice gritted against your brain like sandpaper making you cringe as pain exploded in your head.

“God babe you’re so loud, why’s so bright? I-wha's goin on?” You blearily tried to move your head to look around only to be stopped by a pair of large hands on each side of your head gently holding it in place. You moved your laggy eyes around to look at the figure. He was a blonde man with blue eyes and a hint of stubble on his chin. His eyebrows were knitted together and he looked… he looked… your brain worked to figure out why he looked how he looked. Who was he?

“Please don’t move hun.” His muffled voice was baritone. You squinted at him trying to figure out who this man was.

“Who th f-fuck… why?”

“I’m your dad hun. Do-do you not recognize me?” You made a noise in the back of your throat as your stuffy brain finally put a name to the face.

“Dad- wha’s goin on? I’on feel so good…”

“Shh, I know, I know. Just stop moving and talking. Everything’s fine. I’m here. You’re okay.”

“Mmk… Dad, where are we? I’ont know- you’re so quiet.”

“Stop moving so much. You’re on the floor in a gym. You just won your team the state championship. Now stop talking please.”

Huh. So that’s why everybody seemed to appear from above you. You strained your eyes to look around you, but you could only see your dad’s face hovering above you. “Shit I- who’s aroun’ me? Where’s Hales?”

“I’m right here sweetheart. I got the doctor, Mr. Minecraft.”

Your dad’s face moved away from your vision so fast that it made your head spin and your stomach twist. Another face appeared above you that you once again didn’t recognize.

“I’m Doctor Martin, can you tell me your first and last name?”

“Uh, (y/n) Minecraft?”

“Good, what month are we in right now?”

“Nov-November?”

“Close, it’s late October. Can you tell me who this,” he pointed to your dad, “is?”

“S’my dad Phillip.”

“That’s your dad Philza.”

The questioning stopped as he suddenly shined a blinding light into your sensitive eyes. You hissed as you tried to move your head away from the offending light only to be held in place by your dad’s hands. Your head spun as you moved too quickly and a wave of nausea hit you, making you groan and move your arm to cover your eyes. Your hand was stopped by something warm and soft wrapping around it and holding it tightly. Everything was so overwhelmingly and painfully bright and loud. You wanted to make it stop. 

“Mr. Minecraft, your daughter appears to have a concussion. I don’t have the tools on hand to determine the severity of it, but it’s worrying that her pupils are asymmetrical, she’s delirious, and has slight memory loss. I understand you live about an hour away from here, and it’s alright for you to take her to a hospital closer to your house. Make sure you keep her alert.”

Your delirious mind only registered about half of what came out of the doctor’s mouth. You mumbled gibberish as you once again opened your eyes to look around. You were only briefly able to crane your neck to the left. Several figures large and small were standing behind your dad. Your family, your mind supplemented. Slowly, your mind was starting to recognize your surroundings even if there was currently double of everything and everything was blurry.

“I’m going to help you stand up. Do ya think you can do that?”

“Yeah Dad.” You lifted your upper body off from the ground with a gentle hand on your back helping you sit up. Fighting the wave of nausea that slapped you in the face, you reached up to rub at your eyes. A hand once again stopped you. You peeked your eyelids open and lightly glared at whomever stopped you. “Hales you’re lucky you’re so cute I woulda slapped you. I like holdin but you’re bein annoying. Stop.” You attempted to make your voice sound firm, but the words that came out of your mouth were slightly slurred.

She was silent as she helped her dad haul you to your feet. Once on your feet, you saw the room spin and felt yourself start to sway slightly. An arm wrapped itself around your shoulders and pulled you close to them so that your weight was supported. They were a little taller than you were making it easy to lean on them. 

“...Can you walk?” A deep, monotone voice rumbled the chest of the person you were leaning against. 

“Mhm. ‘M not weak.” Though your limbs felt like they were made of molasses, you placed one foot in front of the other slowly. The person moved alongside you, “you’re doing so good, keep going.” That sparked familiarity in you as you stopped in your tracks and tried to look up at the person you were leaning against making the person tighten their arm around your shoulders when you almost fell over.

“Tech?”

“Yeah, it’s Technoblade. Just focus on walking. You’re almost out of the gym.”

When you realized that you were out of the gym, you sighed in relief. It was so much quieter and darker. Though it was still relatively bright, it was better than the gym. 

“S’better.”

“When we get her to the car we can give her some sunglasses or something if it’s still too bright for her.”

“Wilbs-”

“Focus on walking.”

You huffed in irritation, “don’ tell me what to do bitch.”

You felt Techno’s body jolt slightly as he chuckled, making your head throb at the sudden movement. “Just walk.”

When you walked outside, you shivered as you felt the cool air nip at your exposed skin. Right, you were in your volleyball uniform. “I’ll go pull the car around, you guys stay with her.” 

You saw a tall brunet start to walk away from you. Uncle Splat? Uncle Schmat? Whatever his name was, you were sure he was your uncle. You tried to snuggle closer to Techno, craving warmth but never being satisfied. Where was your uncle? 

After a while, you saw a car moving towards you and blinding light pointed right at you making you cringe away and groan. Techno started to slowly walk towards the car. “C’mon (y/n), you’re almost there. When you’re in the car you can relax.”

“Tommy, Tubbo, and Techno, you’re in the back row. Schlatt can drive and Wil, you’re taking the passenger seat. I’ll stay with her in the middle row so she can have some room to lay down.” Tommy and Tubbo were with you? Why weren’t they talking, they usually were very vocal.

“Tom, Tubbs didja like the game?”

They didn’t say anything as they climbed into the car. Did they not hear you? 

“They’re just… tired (y/n).” Your dad’s voice reassured you as he took Techno’s place holding you up. 

“I wanna nap. ‘M so tired.”

“You can’t sleep yet. We gotta get you to a doctor first.”

“Mm. Makes sense.”

“Let’s get you in the car hun.”

As he helped you climb into the car, you felt an overwhelming wave of nausea wash over you making you lose your balance and almost faceplant into the cloth seats. You felt yourself being gently, yet urgently taken out of the car and led to grass as you felt your esophagus shorten. Something burning made its way up your throat and spewed into the grass. You felt someone rubbing your back as you puked up your dinner. 

When you were done, you reached up with a shaking hand to wipe your mouth. “You feelin better? Think you can get back into the car or do you need to sit down for a bit?”

“Car.”

After some difficulty, you were successfully in the middle row of the car laying down with your head on Philza’s lap. Soon enough, your shoes were taken off and a blanket was draped over you. 

“(Y/n), what do you remember?”

You scrunched up your face as you squinted at Philza’s face. “I remember playing volleyball with Hales. She’s so pretty, she’s straight though. I remember the other team hitting the ball, me jumping, then nothin. Wha’ happened?”

You watched as Philza winced, “well, you got everything right so far. You got hit in the face with the ball so you fell and hit your head on the floor. You were passed out for a minute before you woke up. It was a pretty nasty fall, we’re going to the hospital now. How’re ya feelin?”

“Head hurts, ‘m seein two of everything, an I can’t think.”

“Do you know what a concussion is?” You nodded in his lap slightly, “you probably have one.”

After a while of talking, you were slowly starting to come to your senses and your speech was clearing up, but your head was still too stuffy to think about what you were saying before you said it. You didn’t have a filter.

“Do you wanna tell us about your week so far? Do you remember most of it?”

“Mhm, it was shit. On Monday I had a panic attack and Adrian, Sammy, and Annie were being bitches to me all day. They fucked up my back. On Tuesday, they got mad at me for ditching them and they had me do their homework, had another panic attack, and Haley told me that someone took pictures of our boobs ‘n stuff and they were gonna leak it to the school if Haley didn’t stop hanging out with me. Haley and I almost kissed, but she’s straight. Pulled an all nighter and Wednesday I accidentally came out to Tech and Wil and had another panic attack. Annie, Adrian, and Sammy took more pictures of me through my window, Annie outed me to the entire school and slapped me. Another panic attack, skipped the last two classes and felt like shit the entire practice. Today Adrian and Sammy told me to kill myself and I had another panic attack. ’S about it.”

As you were going through your week, the hand that was previously gently stroking your hair had frozen as the car was enveloped in a tense silence. Luckily, Tommy and Tubbo were passed out in the back seat so they didn’t hear how bad your week was. Everyone awake knew that you had a few bad days this week, but they didn’t know the full extent of it. You watched as Philza’s expression had turned downright murderous, but you didn’t really care. You were busy talking about your week.

For the rest of the car ride, Philza asked you simple questions like what your favorite color was, your favorite animal, basically your favorite everything. Eventually, the car pulled into the hospital parking lot and Philza helped you get out of the car. “Schlatt, can you take the boys home so they can get some rest? I’ll stay with her.” 

“Yeah, I’m on it. Don’t cause too much trouble (y/n), we all know you can raise hell.” He watched you for a reaction, but when you didn’t react, he coughed. “Well, I’ll see ya later kid. Good luck.”

The car drove off leaving you and Philza at the front of the emergency room building. “It’s gonna be a long night (y/n).”

“I gotta finish Annie’s essay and Sammy’s presentation though.”

“No you don’t, I’ll email your teachers.”

You two checked in with the front desk before moving to sit on the uncomfortable chairs. It was going to be a long night. You were so tired.

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[dreamrecorder]

When the earth crumbles to dust.

Alternatively: "Until then, we will find each other again." <|||>

fluff & angst shot, reincarnation au, modern au

| Zhongli x Guizhong | Zhongli x Reader |

Warning: ptsd, panic attack

He came to learn of the name of the young woman with billowing sleeves. Guizhong.

Zhongli realized, that the Goddess of Dust has become a prominent turning point of his life. Back then when he lived the title of the God of War, he was vicious, cold, and unfeeling. However, because of her, such attributes mellowed and eventually died out.

When the goddess died, cutting off her final words, grief and despair washed over the man. Such emotions, he had not felt before. But because of her, he feels. He felt these foreign yet strong emotions run through him. All these emotions, for her.

Yet, it was too late, Zhongli realized.

It was hard for him to stand back up after her death in the field of wilted glaze lilies. Yet the man hardened himself, as he is the very embodiment of the earth. Thus, he protected her people and his which would later unite to what is Liyue today.

Perhaps, if he had not met her, Liyue would not exist.

However, to this day the memory of her death still haunts him. What would have she said, if she completed her final words?

'If you can unlock it-' then what? If the man was being honest, he was not sure if he wanted to hear those words. However, truth be told Zhongli does know how to complete the puzzle Guizhong had left him.

He was just scared. Afraid even. The Memory of Dust... Zhongli was afraid that if he unlocked it, it would also turn into dust, just as the goddess did. This is why he did not bother unlocking the artifact as it is his final memento of his love... Zhongli knew that the time will come when he is ready to open the artifact. As such, the God of Contracts made a contract to himself.

...

There was a time, actually, when he was ready to unlock the secrets of the Memory of Dust. However, a certain someone made him rewind his emotions of grief and longing all over again.

A woman with long, snow white hair and a pair of red eyes- along with the skill of crafting and constructing proven by the floating chamber above Liyue. Everything about that woman reminded him of Guizhong. It just pains him. In fear of feeling grief again, he avoided her as much as possible. But it didn't help him any further preparing himself to open the Memory of Dust.

So, he waited, abiding by the contract Zhongli made for himself.

...

Sipping tea, Zhongli finishes typing the last of his speech for a seminar regarding the history and culture Liyue. He leaves the cafe, with the next destination in mind- the local museum of Liyue. As a man of culture, Zhongli finds visiting the museum a pleasant experience. However, today's visit made him empty.

Just as he was gazing on a painting of glaze lilies, a young woman with billowing sleeves, stood by him.

At first, he had not paid you any attention. He only did when you spoke.

"You know... when I painted this, most of the time I think something's missing. Even now, actually."

Zhongli's gaze focused on the woman, and he swore he saw her. He gulped.

"I think... the scenery is perfect by itself already. What would you have added if you think your piece is still lacking?"

You pondered a bit, white hair shfting as your head tilted. Your red eyes, suddenly deep with wisdom.

"I don't know..." you began as doubt laced your voice. "I thought of two different scenarios before... But whatever scenario I choose, their outcome would be the same. They would make me... sad?

I'm not gonna lie, I like how this piece turned out. To others, it would seem that scene conveys serenity and happines, but to me... It just seems so... empty."

Zhongli hummed in understanding and agreement, as he, too also sees the emptiness in the painting despite the great skill and detail in it. It was missing her. The painting was empty, just like his heart. "If you don't mind, would you like to share to me what you wanted to add?"

You met the man's eyes and a flick of familiarity whirred in your head, but you ignore it. "Maybe another time? I'm just here for a quick visit the director."

For some reason, Zhongli felt disappointed. "I see. Perhaps another time then. I'm usually here every Sunday evening."

"Sure, I... I think I can work with that. See you then." And with that, you left. Leaving the man in the dust.

The next time Zhongli met you, it was another Sunday evening. When proper introductions were done, again, there was that flick of familiarity, but you did not bother. Once the both of you are seated in the benches just outside the museum, you showed him your laptop. When you did, you saw the the way Zhongli's expression shifted into a familiar sadness. It was almost like the expression you make whenever you face the empty painting.

"The field of glaze lillies, you see... I dream of it a lot. But not as the one displayed in the gallery. There were always two scenarios in the same field of glaze lillies."

Nostalgia filled Zhongli's entire being and he felt the Memory of Dust hum softly within him. It gave him a sense of comfort. The first picture was that of him and Guizhong in perfect likeness of their appearances. And the second... The second was also in perfect likeness of her death.

Observing the man's reaction. Something- sank into you. A realization. "Why... why do you look like him?"

The question brought Zhongli back to reality and quickly recovered himself, replying that it must be pure coincidence and chance. But he knows that you are her.

You were suspicious at his answer first, but brushed it off. Then your phone rang. Looking at the caller, you stood up. It was time for you to leave again.

"It seems that our time together has come to an end. As for the paintings, forget about it, would you?" Then you turned around, about to leave.

Those words... those words were also what Guizhong uttered when she-

The bench creaked as the man abruptly stood up, grabbing your wrist.

"D-don't leave..." Zhongli croaked, feeling... things again.

There was a desparation in his eyes you couldn't ignore. Your heart was beating loudly in panic. Don't leave? Why? Observing the man again, you decided that your worries were not of your priority. Zhongli began to sweat profusely, his grip tightening, his breathing labored, his body shivering, his eyes clouding.

"Shit, calm down, Zhongli. I'm not leaving. I'm not leaving..." you said with a reassuring tone as you sat the two of you on the bench. His grip was still on your wrist but you didn't mind. "Come on work with me, Zhongli. Breathe with me. There, inhale... exhale... inhale... exhale..."

Inhale...

Exhale...

Inhale...

Exhale...

You're not leaving. You're there. You're alive. You're alive. You're alive. You're aliveYou're aliveYou're aliveYou're aliveYou're aliveYou're aliveYou're aliveYou're aliveYou're aliveYou're aliveYou're aliveYou're aliveYou're aliveYou're aliveYou're alive

"You okay?" Your voice brought him back to life again. Trying to reassociate himself, Zhongli took note of his surroundings. Then, he took note of how your hands held his.

"What's this?" The question piqued his curiosity. You knelt down the floor and lifted something, but he could not see. He took another note again, his heart felt emptier. Emptier...

The Memory of Dust!

When you were back at his side again, his panic rose when he saw you holding the memento. His instonct told him to take it back, but the way you held it seemed... right.

"This... How did you get this? I had this when I was five then it suddenly went missing when I was sixteen. How did you get this?"

Zhongli steeled himself. It was now or never. "D-Don't you remember me...? Guizhong?"

And just like that, your name from long before along with the artifact unlocked the memories which presented themselves as dreams haunting you for so long.

You saw everything. A great golden dragon by your side. A man and a crane on a high mountain peak. Battles and deaths. Ballistas. The floating chamber. The death of the dragon. And most of all, the man by your side with you in a field of lovely glaze lillies.

With tears streaking your cheeks, you gingerly held the now glowing artifact. "Are you not going to open this yet?" You asked the man with a teasing grin and an equally teasing tone towards him.

Zhongli, still processing, could only blink at your question. "W-what?"

You chuckled at his state. "Has your brain finally eroded, Morax? I asked when are you going to open the Memory?"

Morax?

Zhongli swiftly pulled you into a hug as he buried his face on your shouldef. He was holding onto you for dear life as you reciprocated the gesture as well.

"It's really you..." Zhongli murmmured, voice muffled, when you took notice of the interval shivers of his body.

"Come on, please tell me those are happy tears?" You asked curiously, still caressing the long hair of his. Zhongli could only nod and you laughed once more.

The moment the man nodded, the Memory of Dust crumbled away and Zhongli understood.

A/n: brain dead thoughts empty but i need more guizhong lore but happiness is the way to go lol

[themissingmarvel]

Kind Regards, Detective [Part 4]

(A prelude of sorts. It’s another long one because it’s 1:38 in the morning and sleep eludes me the way it eludes the reader. Life imitates art. Anyway, things are moving and I do promise the next chapter is going to be kind of a big deal. Also I created an image I’ll be using for the series that I can’t introduce yet but it’ll also be tomorrow ((sunday??? idk)) so we shall see. Anyway, thanks for reading if you do, and ask to be tagged if you want. And if I forgot to tag you, yell at me.

Pairing: Detective Loki x fbi!Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Descriptions of violence, swearing, awkward flirtations

Catch up: [Part 1] // [Part 2] // [drabble] // [Part 3] 

Once the phone was plugged in to her laptop at the station, the encryption starting, Agent Cairns let her know it would be a few hours to get it all sorted into something they could use. He’d be encrypting the data and replicating the phone digitally to the laptop so they could use it as such without triggering the GPS. Hours, he said. Hours.

There was a feeling of anguish now in her body and she didn’t like it. David had become exceptionally quiet as he sat across the table this time, not next to her, going through the evidence that had been cataloged and documented. His face was fixed and she knew he was gone. She supposed it was fitting.

Taking the phone that was too large to fit in the pocket of her jeans, but that was on the table, and pressing a few numbers on the touch screen, she held it to her ears. It rang once.

“I thought you might have been ghosting me. You know, this is exactly why I disabled my Tinder account.”

The voice was smooth, though not as smooth as he wanted it to be. She imagined Adrian was like eating a Snickers when you wanted the chocolate mousse. Satisfying, tasty, but not really what you should be going for. 

She sighed, “You disable it three times a year, Adrian. Four, last year,” she shook her head, realizing she was falling into that same damn trap, “Listen, I got an email that the toxicology reports was taking a while. Is there a reason or is the agency backed up?” She wasn’t being smart with him, but serious. Focused. Enough so to miss the blue eyes looking up carefully and studying her. Watching her. Seeing her fidget as she shifted her weight from one foot to another as she stood instead of sat.

A brief pause played out and Y/N didn’t like it, “They found something. It’s not something we usually find, ladybug. Weird timing, though. The results came through about twenty minutes ago.”

Her heart stopped.

“So what did they find?” She knew there would be a run-of-the-mill sedative, aware the autopsies being done would find puncture marks on the bodies. Aware that this would be basic. God, it had to be.

“I honestly didn’t believe it, but they found a nerve agent in the bodies. I mean, it was still fresh so it was used recently, but it’s fucking VX, Y/N. Who the hell manages to get their hands on a nerve agent like that, let alone enough to kill twelve adults, and no one notices?” It was hard to rattle a man like Adrian. He was a few years older, but his cases had been gruesome. Not on purpose. He was given the affectionate nickname of the Grim Reaper, that Y/N never used, whenever he was on a case. This was not going to help his stats.

Pressing her hand against her forehead she winced and closed her eyes, “Do I actually need to ask you to find out if any labs or agencies reported anything missing?”

He sighed, “We both know that any companies that have something like this aren’t going to report it going missing. That kind of legwork takes weeks. It’ll be defense companies and agencies and that shit takes time. I’m sorry, ladybug. I am.” He was genuine this time. He was an asshole, but he felt bad. He knew a missing nerve agent wasn’t something anyone announced when they could cover it up.

Without a word she pulled the phone from her ear and ended the call, no goodbye, not to Adrian. Not today. Instead, she stared at the screen and spoke softly, “He took their breath away.”

By now David’s eyes were tearing into her, feeling the concern, the worry, the panic and able to piece together enough to know that it wasn’t good, “Who did?”

Y/N looked over at David, her eyes suddenly tired, “They were doused with a nerve agent, called VX. It literally shuts down your respiratory system and you die gasping for breath. It’s military grade, David. It’s considered a WMD by the United States and it was used to kill twelve random fucking people staged in a church.” 

The room was eerily silent as the two stared at one another. David was trying to understand what she had just said. Well, he understood it logically, but on the level of how someone commits murder, it was beyond comprehension, “How- I mean, it’s- but-” not even David could verbalize it.

Raising an eyebrow she kept her body lax, “How does someone get their hands on it? Honestly, what I’d like to know. But… this isn’t just some psychopath, David. This man isn’t a criminal as we understand him. And it almost doesn’t matter if we can even find someone willing to admit the chemical went missing, since the decay rate takes forever. He could have had this in his closet for years. And now he’s disabling phones?” 

Fear was a hard one for Y/N. Not because it was a difficult emotion to consider, but because it meant she was vulnerable. Being scared was one thing, but fear was permeating. She had seen so much and read so many different files. She wished, suddenly, the place had been a massacre. She wanted to be able to look at blood splatter marks and stab wounds. Signs of a struggle. But no. What they had was a fucking stack of romcom blu-rays, perfectly preserved bodies, a chemical agent banned by the United States Government, and missing phones. This wasn’t just ‘some guy’ anymore. It never had been. And maybe she always knew that. Maybe she knew when she had read the flowers were bred to be black, naturally, or that the letters were signed with perfect penmanship to each individual agent. But now it was real.

A ding came through, a text from Adrian that told her they were sending in a dozen 2-PAMs in epi-pen form. A dozen. Fuck. She wanted to thank him for even getting his hands on any, given the state of the world, though she supposed the FBI would also be sending over a nice little note forbidding them from disclosing the information with anyone on the case, other than the two of them. If word got out someone had this in their closet? No.

It had never been in David’s nature to be the caretaking type, but something roused him. Maybe it was the look in her eyes, the way her body had stopped fidgeting entirely and had become rubber. Perhaps even he had seen her hand shake. 

Pushing his chair back, David stood, “I’m hungry. And so are you, hamburger alarm be damned. Let’s get Chinese.” 

____

She had been quiet on the drive over to the restaurant David liked to go to when no one was around, and it was mid-afternoon by now. A few people were in the place, but nothing dramatic. A small table by the back was where the two had been seated, Y/N fidgeting nervously as she was clearly trying to process what was going on.

He didn’t like seeing her this way. 

“The usual to start?” A young woman approached, perhaps early twenties, David smiling appreciatively at her as Y/N looked away.

He nodded, “Two. And some tea,” he smiled, a smile that was genuine but nothing dramatic, a smile that meant he was actually smiling. Soft. Small.

It seemed to perk Y/N’s attention, “You really don’t strike me as the tea type. And why did you order my food?” Her face contorted as she felt herself pulled back to reality.

David grinned, “You weren’t answering so I got you egg drop soup. Relax. And tea is good for you. I think,” he smirked.

Y/N couldn’t help but scoff with a smile, shaking her head as she looked at him, “You’re so strange, Detective.”

He grinned, “I’m not the one who wanted a fairy tattooed on my ribcage.”

Her face was bright as her eyes widened, “Absolutely no, Mr. Neck Tattoo!” Her voice raised, though jovial. Bright. Warm. He liked it. It felt like how he expected tea was supposed to taste. Good for you. 

Smiling still, he thanked the waitress as she brought over two small cups of soup, the tea coming shortly thereafter. David poured the hot liquid into the small, white ceramic cups, one for each, “Fair. You’re a little weird too, though. It’s nice,” he lifted the cup and took a sip, glancing at her over it. For a second, the briefest moment, he could have sworn he saw her blush.

Picking up the spoon she had some of the soup, rather taken at how good it was. In her time traveling, she found that wasn’t uncommon for small, unassuming spots to have some of the best food around. Nothing you’d find on the Food Network, but delicious none the less. Good because it wasn’t trying to be. Because it just was.

“Your work with Dover and Birch was good shit, David. Little messy, but good,” she raised an eyebrow at him.

He leaned back and smirked. She liked that smirk. It told her he liked what she was saying, that he was listening. That he agreed with her and that he was present. It was a smirk that reminded her of the lingering smoke from a dying cigarette, brief, soft, but strong if you stood close enough. It would bring back memories and haunt you if you weren’t careful, “Hardest case I ever had, next to this. Parents sure as shit didn’t help.”

A soft chuckle left her lips as she nodded, “Family never does. Well intentioned, always. But you know what they say about the road to hell,” she held a hand up, “paved with good intentions.” 

They talked, after. For longer than either intended. It had been so long since anyone touched him the way she did. He didn’t think of the random women he had met in bars miles outside of Conyers where no one knew who he was. In this moment, of a strange kind of tragedy and trauma, he found himself bonding with a woman he had wanted to hate the moment he read her name on a piece of paper. 

And in truth, she felt similarly. She had been so unsure of what lay ahead in Conyers, beyond knowing she was unwelcome. But this didn’t feel like unwelcome. Detective Loki felt like strong arms she had once felt keeping her close, though this time she felt safe. She knew in this moment, the man across from her could protect her from more than just the bad guy around the corner. Shared trauma did that. Bonded you. She understood that a man like Detective Loki wasn’t a common occurance in the world and he was the thing you wished for when you finally caught the clock at “11:11”. 

The drive back had kept them both in a better space. Not to say either were ‘ok’ by any means, but they were better. An emotional connection, on a level one could never really quantify. It was one forged on battlefields, they both knew. A connection in the midst of war was one never forgotten or loosely held together. It was iron. It was solid.

Back at the precinct time moved fast. It was bearable only because they had each other, now. Focused on a sheet of paper, David would be briefly interrupted by Y/N shoving another one in front of him wordlessly, telling him without say so he needed to read it. He did. And he did the same to her. He had told himself that sitting next to her as they worked was so he could stay focused, but somehow he knew it was more than that. No bullets were flying at her head but he wanted to keep her safe just the same. He couldn’t hold her. He wouldn’t. 

Again the precinct had died and again the two had been left alone, waiting for that damn phone to be done processing and encrypting. 

And it was.

A soft ‘beep’ alerted Y/N the laptop had finished and the phone was ready for review. Popping her head up, her neck aching and her back sore, she felt her stomach suddenly rumble. Looking at the time, she saw the clock read ‘9:26pm’ on it. Concern washed on her features as David pulled his chair so close he was touching her, the woman reaching at her phone first and glancing. Her alarm had never gone off. Squinting, she shook her head, “Fucking technology… all right.” 

Putting the phone down, she opened up the application that looked almost identical to any cellphone interface. Shaking her head she sighed, “Technology is so weird… OK. So. If you were hiding something, where would you put it?” She spoke aloud, though not necessarily to David. She knew he was close, his leg against hers, shoulder-to-shoulder as they read the screen together.

“No chance we’ll find an app or some- oh, nevermind…” David trailed off, almost about to joke that people weren’t really stupid enough to put a dating app or a hookup app on their phone that blatant. But they were. And they did. 

Y/N glanced at him, “People are always that stupid, David. But the question is why a married woman has Tinder on her phone,” she double-clicked the app, bringing it up. No login required, IT had made sure of that, but she was curious what was on there. Deaths hadn’t been made public, save for a family’s choice, so the chance of someone ‘unmatching’ due to it was low. Both were rather surprised at the number of matches, however. Conversations littered the page and the pictures used were ones that you could perhaps make out who it was if you knew. And they did. But the profile requested someone for something ‘discreet’. 

Scrolling was unpleasant, at best, and Y/N rolled her eyes. Men desperate for hookups, many unanswered messages. Some answered. Some even with meetups planned. And of course the profiles messaging her were inoccuous. Other people looking for hookups. David documented any dates he saw, making sure to follow up with the individuals. No last names and private profiles made it hard, but they had something to go off of.

Beyond that, there was nothing, “If someone did meet her on this… he’s unmatched her. And if he’s good, he’s wiped himself. We’ll need to ask specialists in DC to get a release from the company to get records. See what we can scrounge. I’ll get that going, you keep browsing the phone. You’re a smart guy, you’ll know it when you see it,” she smirked briefly at him, David hiding his grin as she stood, the detective pulling the laptop to where he was.

Getting up, Y/N pulled out her phone, typing up a few quick emails on their encrypted and authorized server, the one that didn’t use Conyers’ piss-poor security. A few quick clicks and she sent out the requested information, reading a few others regarding 2-PAM being sent to the station for the morning. 

Fuck, that was fast.

“Ladybug, you OK? Hung up on me. Worried about you.”

Frowning at her phone she felt that tug again at Adrian. That desire to be close. Knowing he’d always just flirt. Like her sister told her once, Sometimes the asshole falls in love with you and sometimes you fall in love with the asshole. So eloquent.

“Fine. And don’t call me ladybug on here. You know this gets monitored.”

Ding!

“Should I text it to your cell then? Finally gonna give me that number?”

Shaking her head she clicked off the phone. That had been a point of contention with Adrian. He had her work phone, but her private one was her own. The flirtation was done in the office and she knew, knew that if he had her private line she would fall. Fall for a man who was emotionally incapable of being connected to her. She didn’t want to fall for a Snickers bar.

It was another hour of phone scanning and scrolling through emails she had been sent, knowing the autopsies would take longer to get back. Twelve bodies was a lot, and while patterns emerged, it took time. And families were involved… it was never easy. The job never was.

Her stomach roared, suddenly, wincing as she felt the ache of not having eaten. Even the detective looked up, raising an eyebrow, “Need to get some food?” 

Holding back another wince of pain that came from neglecting herself this long she nodded, “Probably. I should… I should head back anyway. You’re welcome to see if you find anything on the laptop but the app itself is pretty telling. See if we can deep scrub and get more data from it. Sort of ideal.” She sighed, pushing back her hair as she felt the need for sleep but the vague understanding it wouldn’t come. A fickle mistress.

Was it disappointment? David frowned a bit as he watched her, “I mean… I can drive you back. If you want, of course. We’ve got a three-star Taco Bell nearby,” he forced a smile. 

But Y/N felt herself tighten, her body, her thoughts, her emotions. He was pulling at a piece of her she didn’t like to think about. The piece all those boys in bars and officers in other districts never understood. He was fighting to fit in her life and she was finding that in only a few days he was doing a great damn job at it. She needed distance. Space. Safety. But he was safety, wasn’t he? God, this was complicated.

A thin smile painted itself onto her lips, “Raincheck. I’ll grab some takeout nearby. Hell, even some Ramen from the gas station sounds good. But I’ll meet you back here early. Get some rest, David.”

With that, she collected her things, not watching as the man who fought to keep the world out was fighting to keep it from overwhelming him now. There was chaos, and fear. Of course. But there was trauma. And there was a woman he felt so compelled to keep safe that it was unclear why, exactly. She didn’t remind him of some kid he knew growing up, or even one of those stupid ulterior motives. He felt a part of her that was good, and of all people he knew keeping the good stuff good was important. That was his work. She was an agent, though. Nothing stays pure forever.

As she packed her files into the rental that felt familiar and foreign, she didn’t think about what tomorrow might bring, or what the world held. She was distracted again. Words spoken to her in passing, a man getting to know her. A man with eyes that glowed when he was focused and who blinked more than most, tight blinks, when he was upset. Nervous. Scared. Angry. He had his tells. 

And as she drove back to her hotel with an acute awareness she wasn’t sleeping tonight, she ignored the tug at her gut that told her something was wrong. The calm before the storm. The flickering lights before the power goes out.

Sometimes you fall in love with the asshole.

But sometimes the asshole falls in love with you.

( @escapingthoughtsandsecrets @is-it-madness @oscarflysaac @detecellie @peccobagnaia​ @fgtakbrjbdl​ )

[fmlfpl]

Lineup Lamentations - GW35+

Our Transfers, Captains, and Starting 11s for the week!

—

WALSH

TRANSFERS:

OUT: Kane and Calvert-Lewin

IN (for -4 points): Firmino and Benteke

Welp, Kane and Mou hooked me again - nothing new there.

DCL I still love and it is quite upsetting that I didn't own him this season when he was getting all his points and did own him for a strand of just straight blanks and nothingness since the restart. Oh well. I'm sure this is not the last of DCL in my team, and I will look forward to owning him next year. If anything, maybe this barren spell is a blessing in disguise as it may keep his price down a bit and prevent him from having much preseason buzz...

As shouted on the pod, it seems like its a nice time to reunite with old friends. Benteke picks himself, love him so much and maybe he bangs in the revenge game. Just a fun punt.

Bob has been pretty fucking bad for FPL but I love him and haven't owned him all season. I can stomach a few blanks from the lad, but at least I don't have Kane anymore. It's probably not a good sign for my rank that I'm using the tv guide as a significant factor in my decision making process but hey, whatever brooo. I am definitely worried a bit about him starting against Burnley but he did just rest against Villa so maybe he'll be good to go for the duration. Another old friend and someone who I get a lot of xJOY from watching - there is nothing that I've seen from him that leads me to believe he'll get in the points, and I don't think there is some hidden gem here for the run in by any stretch, but I like him so I'm getting him. Basically I figured it's more fun to have him than to start a third Wolves defender..again...and also seems cooler and more fun than any other defender so let's do it :)

GK:

de Gea (SOU)

DDG didn't have to do much so he got a clean. Great job by him and United. It's a good sign that when Ole makes his five subs he's bringing on Fredrick and other shithouses and kind of killing the game dead which doesn't make the last handful of minutes feel so nervy.

Soton are good, though, and I could see them scoring, but with the way United have looked they still feel like a good place to back for cleans. He's not making any saves really to speak of but 3 cleans in 5 from the restart is right about where I thought they'd be.

DEF:

Maguire (SOU)

I am going to roll with the slab over Saiss to keep my shares at 2 for United and 2 for Wolves cleans. Same kinda shit with DDG, he's been individually bad as per but the team is dominating and I see that continuing against Soton.

Dock & Boly (EVE)

Really, really, really, really, really good fixture for a clean.

It's always hard to imagine where an Everton goal could come from and this fixture is no exception. As long as they don't get caught on a counter ping long ball, which they shouldn't do with the extra CB, they should be ok. I expect them to be in cruise control for this game and fully dominate and control it. Whether or not they themselves score, fuck if I know or care, but clean sounds good.

MID:

Sterling, De Bruyne, and Foden (bha)

Besides Raz, no clue if the other two will play 30, 60, or 90 but either way I expect this game to be an absolute fucking.

Rolling with the three City friends till the end seems good, and they are good.

Harry Potter plays some insane stuff and if he rolls out something similar here as he did do against Livp it could get silly. An early goal and the weed hanging their heads could mean many more to follow. That's the hope, anyway.

Bruno (SOU)

Ya, ok bro. Shitting points at the moment. Cool.

Pulisic (shu)

This is suddenly back to being a rough attacking fixture, but with the way Puli has been going recently I'll always back him to return against anyone. Sheffu midfield seems like it could be problematic and they as a team should beginning to feel it in their legs. Chelsea still need to win every game and Sheffu are kinda done for the season so hopefully they are on it and Puli running at Basham et al is too much for them to handle.

FWD:

Benteke (avl)

Back to his old stomping ground with Villa absolutely needing 3 points in this one I could see some goals for us. Just a fun play for me and again gives me something extra to cheer for on Sunday when I wake up to watch the game :)

Firmino (BUR)

He did put them to the sword in the reverse fixture..not that I usually put any stock in such a thing, but hey, it did happen so just reporting the news.

Without Mee I could envision him being difficult for them to contain with his movement so maybe he is going to get in there with some points. It wouldn't stun me to see him on the bench for like Minamino or some shit but hopefully not. Also is nice to have one of Alon's favorites in there to boot. Go get em Bobby.

CAP:

Sterling (bha)

Raz never in doubt.

Didn't start last game...and Jesus has just started a few in a row...so there's a reasonable chance he's playing striker. Love the fixture here and the stars seem to have aligned for the cap shout.

He's been playing really well lately so it makes this a really easy decision for me.

—

ALON

TRANSFERS:

OUT: Alexander-Arnold and Calvert-Lewin

IN: Saiss and Vardy

Off with the hyphenated names they’re banished from my team for rest of season no hyphens fuck it.

Dropping Trent feels akin to dropping Kevin: I’ve probably made a big woopsies here and he’s gonna start 4/4 or 3/4 and haul because he’s the best but... maybe not? Maybe he gets rested/rotated for Burnley as we expect and maybe Liverpool don’t clean rest of season as I personally expect and then I’m doing ok?

Maybe... maybe... 

I’m also just going partially with gut on Vardy vs. Bournemouth more then anything else. Form is some sort of mystical lover and every time she’s in our grasp she slips away and every time we think she’s gone forever she reappears... Hoping the form angel pegs Vardy’s butt-hole this weekend and he hauls.

GK:

Ederson (bha)

Was Eddy worth the funds out the gate? Probably not... But I also know my own weaknesses and I’d’ve probably somehow have talked myself into some shit-can like Foster on no cleans and alas here we are.

I’ll take the points and genuinely expect a clean in all four remaining matches from Citeh.

DEF:

Doherty & Saiss (EVE)

Sheesh this feels yuge. Double Wolves into Everton come on Wolves. Don’t have anything to say I’m just on my hands and knees praying for this clean man...

Maguire (SOU)

Tough one for me to read.

Part of me thinks that the chaotic style of Southampton’s attack will have The Oaf on toast but also part of me thinks ManU will just strangle them to death with their elite possession and passing breaking the press all the time and Soton will be huffing and puffing by 45′... Not sure how this goes but yeah I duno.

Go get’em big guy.

MID:

De Bruyne & Mahrez (bha)

It’s very realistic that neither of my City dudes start and that tilts me off so hard just thinking about watching City do The Seaweed 6-0 or something and not be a part of anything fuck meeeeeeeeeeeeeeee REEEEEEEEEEE!

Martial & Fernandes (SOU)

I still think that these two are the best two ManU guys to get. Tony looked great despite not scoring and what can we even say about the lad Bruno he can’t not run into points right now.

Pulisic (shu)

Gonna be tough to break down but also the possession and pressure should be relentless from Chelsea here.

Hopefully Pulisic taking 9000 touches in the box leads to some FPL points that tricky little fucker I love him.

FWD:

Vardy (bou)

Come on Vardz.

Not a thing I often say but come on you Vardz. Take the Cherries apart baby.

Jimenez (EVE)

Walsh talked me into this (keeping Jim) on the pod and it made a whole lotta sense to me.

Sometimes in life you just need to talk it out with someone you trust like your pod partner and then you can see more clearly and here we are. I actually feel great about a Wolves bounce-back against an Everton side with no midfielders.

Jim should be getting lots of chances and touches in the box and get the fuck in there. Overdue for a pen too maybe Keane or Mina does some mad shit? I haven’t given up on you yet Jim. Let’s go.

CAP:

Vardy (bou)

Whatever, right?

I mean I think capping either of my City guys is completely unreasonable this week (for the record I would cap Raz over anyone this week) so it’s between basically Bruno, or Vardy for me this week...

Why would I cap Bruno there? What’s to be gained? He’s owned by everyone and will be capped by everyone. It’s not fun and it’s not how I play the game.

I see weeks like this as an opportunity to both have more fun and to go for a maybe under the radar cap shout huge chunk rise if he hauls and Bruno is held relativlely in check... No pressure Jamie no pressure at all... Just... save me... Plz...

[arthurmorganthings]

Red Roses.

Pairing: Lenny x Sonia

Summary: Lenny Summers spends Valentines Day with an old fling.

Warning: mentions of sexual content, slut-shaming, mentions of racism/lynching. ANGST.

She’d known he was coming by the context of his letter. His messy manuscript was hard not to miss either, it was so difficult to decipher some of his words but knew just what would get Sonia to capitulate to him all over again.

I’m in Blackwater. Since bad business in the territory of Lemoyne, I had to cut off all contact with you Sonia. Them crackas was gonna have me swing for a justifiable crime—you know better than anybody the law is never in our favor. But I do wish to see you with what time I have left. And so please consider disappearing with me, I don’t wish to have you working saloons anymore. I do however, want to build life with you.

- L.S.

He never did learn to write properly but the simplicity of his letter was enough. Straightening the creases of her skirt, Sonia placed a cigarette to her soft lips. She poised herself diligently near the stair’s banister that led to a game of blackjack upstairs, the other working girls began the day shift in lieu of Sonia.

She waited, keeping men warm in exchange while passing the day. Her heart still so content on seeing an old companion she knew since they were beggars in Lagras.

How she missed being a country girl, in spite of the marsh being humid and full of snakes. Momma did say not to venture out to far, she always did anyways. Lenny was never as daring as she was back then—she missed Lagras.

Here, she has her fair share of racism, however, to most that were passing through from other countries—Sonia was a rare flower ready for spring, and at its peak, is when the flower blooms.

Had she learned the art of opening up, she’d then can agree with the stranger—Sonia was blinded by her own beauty.

Nightfall taints the sky and still no sign of Lenny Summers. Sonia placed herself at the bar, drowning her woes at the bottom of a bottle. Just as she placed another quarter for more alcohol, a calloused palm was placed gingerly onto her’s—his lips grazing the shell of Sonia’s ears, enough to make hairs stand up.

“Since when have you become a drunken fool?”

No doubt in her mind at all, it was him. Still as arrogant since days in the Bayou, she seen right through him, “Since when did outlaws became so confident?” Her response earned her a chuckle. She glanced at him for a moment, noticing the small changes in his vabrato alongside the structure of his jawline. He was on the cusp of becoming a man.

He sat next to Sonia. “Happy Valentine’s day, my beloved.”

How could she forget? Valentine’s Day. Legs pried open by strangers, she began to desensitized herself to it. She sighs, ordering two whiskeys—on the rocks.

“I don’t celebrate shit.”

“So you gone leave a brotha’s bed cold on the only night I get to see you?”

“You so set on thinking I’ll lay you, it’s incessant. You sure becoming a bandit ain’t get to your head?”

Lenny laughs wholeheartedly. “I still see you can’t take satire, as much as what we used to do back in the marsh. It’s insessant.”

Sonia blinked as the barkeep coughs, awkwardly handing Sonia her drinks. She passes a glass, and in tandem they cheer—to the life they lead.

The pungent taste of liquid engrossed in her tongue and throat, Sonia was never one for hard liquor anyways. A beat of silence ensued as Lenny spoke, “You remember the first time, after you came home from Sunday school, you came over to my house a—“

“Lenny.”

“Hold on. Let me finish, you came over, complaining about how God wasn’t white, she was Palestinian.” His laugh was insufferable, causing Sonia to look down so he couldn’t see her blush.

“She wasn’t. God is a woman.”

“Yeah. And I’m the president of the United States.”

“Lenny, you mean to tell me a black man isn’t capable of leadin’ a country?”

Lenny was speechless at the rhetorical question. He gulped down the rest of his drink, pondering. “Maybe when we’re all dead there’ll be a time when we can dream that big. But I can’t see it now Sonia.”

Her gaze softens, a bit disheartened and dejected, “Lenny.” She closes the distance, her forehead touching his as he closes his eyes, “Why you gotta think like that Lenny? Ain’t a damn thing a White man couldn’t be able to do without a black man’s bluprint.”

His lips danced around her neck, softly licking at the nape as Sonia’s hairs stood, “I—I don’t have much to lose anymore. I only ask that you make this Valentine’s Day alive for me.”

“Lenny you know you’re gonna hurt me in the process.”

“You serious Sonia? I’m in love with you.” He looked around to see if others were listening in before his voice dropped a few octaves.

“You’re the mother of my child.”

“You gotta keep remindin’ me of that? He’s MY son too. I was eighteen.”

“How many times I gotta prove to you that I’m a changed man Sonia? I wanna see my son!” His voice projecting causing Sonia to look around embarrassingly.

“You’ll see your son, I just want you to stop. This.” She gestures disgustingly. As if being in a gang projects more about his morality than being a working girl. This fumed Lenny.

He grew quiet, scoffing. He flung a bouquet of roses in front of her, meaning to surprise her, had this went correctly. Lenny stared shamefully, nose flared, “And I guess you made a name for yourself whorin.’ Don’t ever judge what you don’t know, woman.”

He couldn’t look at her anymore, the same woman he’d fell head-over heels with back when she was in rags, he grew to look at with disdain—in the finest clothing. What a waste of a beautiful woman.

He sauntered out of the bar, before mounting his horse he felt a grab onto his arm. He looked over to see Sonia, tears filled to the brim of her eyes. Lenny frowned. “Let me go woman.”

“Please don’t do this Lenny. You know that life ain’t for me.”

“So the life you lead is?” He inquired, still angry. “You know you always was the sortin’ type for smarts. You shoulda’ stayed in school.”

“I want my son with me.” He adds. “I don’t want him being raised by you.”

Sonia’s eyes widened, had he known the weight of his words, had he held a baby for nine months without the help of a man, had he KNOWN.

He’d feel how she felt. “Just a few minutes ago you wanted to be with me. You wanted me to, lay you.”

“That’s before I figured the type of woman you are. You hurt people, but you can’t help it can’t you, Sonia?”

A beat followed, she never meant to hurt anyone. This wasn’t how Valentine’s Day was supposed to end. They both knew it.

Lenny spoke again, “I wanted to make sweet love to you girl, to make you relive feelings I thought you had. I must still be a fool for you.”

She seen it in the way he looked at her, Lenny was done waiting for a woman that had no intentions of being with him. Sonia still remembers the sheets she laid in when it all happened. As he rode off Sonia recalls everything.

Though penniless, Lenny somehow managed, a price on his head, to get them both a room in Rhodes—last Valentine’s Day.

She was a fool for letting him go.

Had only roses taught her the art of opening up, he’d stay.

Maybe.

-

PART 2, MAYBE LOL. THIS IS FOR MY BBY @famderlinde 💗💗💗 HAPPY VALENTINES DAY LOVELY

[brianjameson]

October 31st

12:15am

It’s officially Halloween and my last night in the apartment.. I’m drinking my Midnight Blue tea and going to have white in a bit. I have Jar of Hearts radio on Pandora currently. All of these songs playing are really speaking to me and making me feel like Nick is still around. Currently Death Cab for Cutie-Someday you will be loved is playing and just really hits right in the feels.’

I changed all the addresses on my accounts again to my moms address.

I packed up a little more earlier today and knew it would be hard for me to pack and understand that this is all over. Tears kept flooding my eyes as I put more and more things away. I took a moment to sit down and cry it all out to be able to continue to do everything. I took some things to storage and figured I’d wait until later to finish everything.

I got home and showered. I sat in the shower and cried and realized it would be my last one here. I thought of all the times Nick and I showered together. The times we would be showering quick to go to a party or go somewhere fun. Whenever I park in my parking space I still look at the bathroom to see if the light is on. I know it won’t be on but I used to always look for the light to be on because almost every time I’d get home, he would be in the shower. Just a habit of mine still.

As the water kept running I just sat there staring at the handle in disbelief that now I have to face reality and this is all real now.. I know in my heart I don’t feel we have broken up but reality slaps you in the face and reminds you that indeed this is real and it’s happening whether I feel it or not and it just hurts a little bit more..

I finished showering and went to Sonic to get food. I was fucking starving and that’s where we went most of the time when we wanted to pig out. I figured it would be good to eat the meal we used to have and come home and watch Below Deck. Our most watched shows together were Below Deck, Live PD, Impractical Jokers and American Horror Story. We even saw impractical jokers live lol. Since Below Deck was on tonight I figured I’d finish watching it since I probably won’t be able to finish the series.

When you really break down this situation this is the way it looks and feels to me.

I dealt with death in the beginning..

I went to the memorial, I spoke all the words I had in my heart in his honor and mourned. I went the places he and I went to for more closure and will continue to do so.

Now I’m dealing with the breakup..

The move out, the packing of boxes of everything we shared and living somewhere else without him.

That’s why this is so hard, it’s losing someone to death and a breakup at the same time. It’s like getting heartbroken all over again one last time.

Everything still feels like it just happened yesterday and I still find myself crying wherever I drive or run into something that reminds me of him.. I just feel so tormented by emotions that it gets to be a little too much at times and really makes me question life and everything happening in general.

This situation really fucking sucks. This is the one time I do feel angry at Nick because packing everything is frustrating since we had so much shit and it hurts going through everything and getting emotional every 5 seconds.. We put this place together and built a home for ourselves just to tear it all down.

I’m experiencing so much emotion that I start to feel like I can’t deal.. It makes me wonder if I’ll ever be able to move on and if I do how will it be? Will I have found how and will I be the same?.. I have so many questions with none answered. I still wonder why this happened to me and why he would do what he did… We were going to be fine, everything was looking up and things were about to be really good and now it’s all over and I have to learn to live without him and grow without him.

All we want is someone to love us, someone to show us love is real and to care for us but no one tells us or prepares us for the what ifs..

Thursday Nov 1st 11:30pm

Yesterday I had to move out of the apartment.

I barely ate anything because of how stressed I was about the move. I went to the storage unit first thing in the morning and dropped off whatever else I could do alone. I wanted the experience to be intimate. I didn’t realize I had so much shit until it became never ending. We really accumulated so much shit in a matter of 2 years. I was shocked how much stuff we had.

Thank God for my friend Tiara and her boyfriend and my brother to help with all the heavy shit. I’ve been really sick with allergies and just been weezing and coughing.

The move took a total of about 12 hours to do…. It was rough.

This move was extremely emotional for me. I wish I didn’t have to leave. I would of stayed there until I was ready to move but I just couldn’t afford it alone..

Once everything was pretty much in storage. My brother and I went back for one more trip to get the last of everything.

I walked through the empty apartment looking around at how empty it was and remembering when we first got our keys and went to look at the space before moving in.

I figured it was time to start closing the doors. Something in me was just signaling to close the doors, I felt like I’d get closer to closure if I do it.

I went to the bedroom and decided to start at the closet with the goodbye process. I stared at the closet and began to cry thinking of all those times we would be getting ready together and I would ask for his advice on what to wear or he’d ask me a million different times what belt with what shoes he should wear.. I closed the closet door and stood at the doorway of the bedroom staring at the room where we spent every night together sleeping. I looked at all the dents on the floor from where the bed was and just thought about how he would wake me up in the middle of the night from cuddling me. Even though he was a big guy, he loved to be cuddled. Nick was really really gentle and even though he was big and intimidating he was the biggest teddy bear and loved to be held.. I turned the light off and took the remote with me, it’s the one thing we really shared together and I wanted to keep that.

I walked to the den and thought of all those memories of how he would always be taking my picture for my Instagram and for the companies I would shoot for. I thought of how it looked like a garage when we first moved in because of how much shit was piled in it. I would get so mad at him for it! Lol. One of the last thins I remember asking him was why he made so much room in the den and he replied saying that it was because he knew I wanted to have a social media room and wanted me to have more space.. I closed the door and went to the kitchen.

I thought about all the times we cooked together or on Sundays when we would be hanging out at home doing nothing and I’d make us breakfast or if he knew I had a long week ‘he’ would make us breakfast. I thought of all those times I’d come home in a bad mood and no matter how upset I’d be he would always ask if I was hungry and if I wanted him to make me something to eat. I would always make a big chickpea veggie soup and it was one of the last things we cooked together and I remember so vividly that day because he didn’t want me touching the soup at all, I could tell he was trying to learn how to make it all on his own! I told him that night that the trick was in the spices and when it was finished it’s as if I had made it, he definitely got it down with the spices and didn’t over do it. I turned the light off and went to the living room

I sat on the floor in silence trying to contain myself and just thank him for everything and again started crying.. I finished the water bottles he left behind on his last day. I left those for last because I knew I’d need them for this last day. I mainly kept them because it was the closest to a last kiss that I was going to get and I guess I just wanted to save that for last..

The living room holds the most amount of memories since we spent so so much time there. All I thought of was how we would watch all our favorite shows together or how I’d cook dinner and we would sit and have dinner on the coffee table and watch our shows or a movie. I’d lay my arm next to him and he would scratch my arm or how I’d want to cuddle next to him and we would somehow someway find a way to both lay on the couch together. Normally when I’d lay next to him like that I’d fall right asleep because of how comfortable I was. We would discuss things going on in shows or movies while laying on the couch and just really spending quality time together.

I realized more and more as I saw the holes in the walls, how much Nick actually did for me.

There was a light fixture that he installed for me so I could do hair at home and when Christian took it down I saw how many holes were drilled and all the wiring Nick went through to hook it all up for me.. That’s true love…. He went through so much to help me so I could follow my dreams and be happy..

I started to talk to him out loud and just hoped he could hear me and hear how sad I am without him and how I just miss him a lot.

The last place to go to was the bathroom.. The 1 thing I grabbed last was his mirror and razors from the shower.. I know how much he used those and I just kept getting images of when I’d come home and find him showering and shaving.. He would always yell “HI BABE!” or I’d go in there if he didn’t hear me come into the house and I’d scare the shit out of him lol. I closed the door and was getting ready to leave.

I stood at the doorway staring down the hall that lead to the living room thinking of how many times I came home to hear him greet me. The times I would come home drunk from being out with him all night and how the first thing we would always do is throw our shoes off, take our pants off and lay on the couch. I thought of how much I was going to miss the apartment and how much I wish I didn’t have to leave.. Before I got too carried away with my tears, I kissed our place goodbye and left..

Closing these doors helped give me a sense of peace knowing that there is no door open anymore. Everything has been closed now and now I just have to move forward. I don’t have a choice but to move forward.

I thought I’d be really bent about having to move in with my mom because I’ve just been on my own for so long that it kind of sucks having to go back home. But to be honest, I’m really not that upset. I’m glad to be home and glad to have a loving family. There’s people who don’t even really have family so I really can’t complain. The holidays are around the corner and it’ll be good to spend it with my family. I know my mom wanted me home and always missed me so it’ll be good to be home and helping her out with whatever she needs. I know she feels so awful about this situation and I���ve never seen her so worried for me.. I can tell it’s hard on her because my mom has always known me to be the strongest person and the strongest one in the family but she knows if I cry over anything it’s because I truly am very hurt. It takes a lot for me to cry, it’s not that I don’t like to or want to it’s just that I tend to separate emotions and rationalize things before allowing myself to cry.

I’ll be with my mom for a few months and if I need to stay another year then I’ll stay another year but my goal is to really save as much as possible the next 3 months and try to buy property. After having to move and deal with all this shit and dealing with leaving somewhere I didn’t want to leave, I will never again feel like that. I want to buy my own home so I can do whatever the fuck I want to it and to never be told I have to leave or have rent raised on me. Obviously if I have to rent a condo or something then I will just to have my own space again but the goal at hand right now is to power save and work my ass off double time to make this happen.

I want to thank everyone who’s supported me through all of this and helped me with anything and to mainly stay above water. I love you guys and thank you so much. ♥

“Something always brings me back to you. It never takes too long. No matter what I say or do I’ll still feel you here till the moment I’m gone..”

“I sing myself a quite lullaby, let you go and let the lonely in to take my heart again..”

Closing the Last Door October 31st 12:15am It's officially Halloween and my last night in the apartment.. I'm drinking my Midnight Blue tea and going to have white in a bit.

[fuckcyberlife]

DBH Fic Recs

Some faves below the cut.

The Artist by KyDesert

"Sometimes, you’ve gotta fight your own battles, kid.”

And fight he did while he lay on Hank’s sofa, swaddled in blankets and unable to move. Too hot, but much, much too cold. Motionless while the last of CyberLife’s programming tore through his systems and made his hands ache to complete one final mission.

Damn did Hank wish he could be there to help the kid fight this one.

Lidocaine by SgtSalt

Markus is a caretaker. Markus is a nurse.

Markus is an android, and androids don't need either of the jobs he was created to do, because they can't feel pain.

A character exploration from Markus' POV, as he figures out what makes him - and other androids - uniquely alive. Features reflections about Carl and developing a rapport with Connor, who has a confession to make. Starts pre-canon and ends slightly post-canon.

seven, five, three, five, seven by WonderAss

Being alive is a messy process. Connor is confronted again with the double-edged sword of higher thinking when he starts displaying the first signs of a disorder.

empty-handed by silverhedges

Connor hunting Markus, successfully.

“The first time Markus hears of the android detective is from the TV they stole and managed to illegally rig up in the main living room.”

Getting Ahead of Deviancy by lapsi

The FBI begins to infringe on Lieutenant Hank Anderson's investigation of the TV station hijacking, in the form of the newly established Deviant Science Unit. The Bureau's answer to outbreaks of deviant behaviour, this unit collects data on deviant androids in order to understand and preempt criminal behaviour. So, Hank has no fucking idea why they've zeroed in on a non-deviant android, his partner Connor.

(The Mindhunter x Detroit: Become Human crossover that nobody asked for)

Empathy (and other dead weight) by CynKLBouns

Sure, now everyone wanted to hold hands, give out flowers, and pretend machines were real boys and girls or some shit. As if they weren’t hunting them through every city like rats just a month ago. People going nuts over their crusade one moment, stinking up the streets with the fires, and all of a sudden everything just fucking stops as though anything changed.

Nothing fucking changed.

A machine was still a machine, no matter how fancy its program.

How to be Authentic by StoriesFromDust

Hank was at work. Connor should be at work. He frowned from the sofa, staring at his jacket across the room. He liked that jacket. His favorite part of being woken up after uploading to a new build was when he put the jacket on and fixed his tie. He was mad that it had betrayed him, become something that marked him as less-than-a-person.

Changed the name from 'A Loan I Can't Repay' as I got farther in the story and figured out the ending. Sorry if it confused anyone!

Fear Response by joudama

Gavin Reed’s eyes narrowed, and the man was almost vibrating with a barely-contained rage. But there was also something else in his eyes, a “blink-and-you-would-miss it” tremor of something else, enough to make Connor pause and analyze the other man.

Clue: Slight widening of the eyes, with the whites showing around the irises.

Clue: Increased breathing, but shallow breaths; not the faster, heavier breaths associated with anger and rage.

Clue: Increased heart rate.

Clue: Loss of facial color due to constriction of capillaries, and a resulting vasodilation of central blood vessels to muscles.

Analysis: Gavin Reed was afraid.

Further Analysis: Gavin Reed was afraid of him.

of all ghosts by BeepGrandCherokeeper

In the moment, he’d defined the statue as religious – but androids have no distant gods who require worship, only their human creators. Reverence is as far outside their limited scope as any other emotion, and yet…

“In the bathroom,” Connor says, testing the waters. The deviant looks up at him abruptly, moving with a speed that blatantly indicates interest. “You left something behind. An offering. Why? What purpose does it serve?”

“So I’ll be saved,” it replies. “rA9. The first. The only one who can save us.”

Mind-Blowing by Reddooo

“I mean it, Gavin,” Hank said. “If Price even looks at you funny, if he gives you any shit—” He took a step closer to Gavin to make sure that the younger man was listening. Reed began to fidget considerably by the proximity, but it didn’t seem to be from anger. It was almost as if he was getting upset, “—you come to me immediately. Do you understand?”

Gavin didn’t answer. He hadn’t looked over at Hank since he started talking to him directly. Chris and Connor exchanged glances. Connor’s interest was more than piqued. Hank was acting almost… protective? Was that the word? Protective over Gavin?

“Gavin?” Hank called again and Gavin’s attention finally snapped to the acting captain.

“Yes. Hank. I understand.”

---

An accident at a neighboring precinct has two departments sharing office space, but Gavin and Hank have murderous beef with the guest lieutenant and Connor is determined to find out why.

stay out of trouble by yellow_caballero

Unemployment was not the best thing to ever happen to Connor, but it was high on the list. The best thing to ever happen to Connor was the sight of a Corgi wearing a small cowboy hat leashed to a post in front of the liquor shop. The second best thing to ever happen to him was the emancipation of his people from slavery and the opening of negotiations for equal rights. But unemployment may come in at a solid third.

march of progress by Calamitatum

Connor could fill a book with the things he doesn't know. One of Hank’s big, thick paperbacks, pages worn with age, covers creased and coffee-stained.

"What?" Hank grouses once, when he catches him looking. "They’re well-loved, at least."

Connor looks at himself, smooth plastic and pressed clothes. No creases, no stains.

Tonic by psymyn

The reclining chair had been a gift from Hank—something about housewarming—and Connor has never felt the need to get anything else.

All of Detroit is Lonely by steadycoffeeslow (Salimity)

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Hank’s non-alcohol addled brain was reminding him he hadn’t told Connor anything in particular at Stratford Tower. Last he could rightly remember, they were both watching that deviant’s speech and Connor hadn’t shared his thoughts with the detective. Connor had clearly been thinking of something, but of what, Hank couldn’t decipher. A part of him, at the time, had hoped that the deviant’s message had swayed something in Connor. Hank sure felt that it had swayed something in him.

Can androids and humans coexist? As Connor and Hank cope with the rapidly changing political climate of Detroit, their choices threaten what peace the partners have forged. Updates Friday-Saturday-Sunday

The Novelist by Satirrian

Androids did not feel. His mind was cold metal and white plastic. He was nothing more than a mission. The time was 1207 and Lieutenant Anderson was due to arrive at the station. Connor predicted that there was a 67% chance that Lt. Anderson had not arrived at the station.

Some new cases come in that make Connor wonder what deviants really are.

passing time. by shorelines

Androids don't sleep. They don't eat. Sometimes, they don't even die. So what do they do, with all that time?

The hobbies and histories of three androids, now and into the future.

Uncanny by MercuryPilgrim

It’s strange, how RK-800 is more unnerving as a Deviant than he ever was as a machine.

Meanwhile... by wintercoat

Connor is loitering in his peripheral vision, his officious shoulder angel. “What are you doing, Lieutenant?”

“Questioning my life choices.”

Christmas, 2038 by phocion

The mostly peaceful Android Rebellion of 2038 ended with tentative success, but now the androids must carve out a permanent place in a wary society. Markus, trying to hold on to that hard-won freedom, gets drawn into Hank and newly deviant Connor’s investigation into a string of complex thefts and murders. With far too many coincidences for comfort and old enemies resurfacing in the shadows, Markus has to figure out fast who he can trust. Letting North blow everyone up is starting to sound like a better idea every day…

--

Mostly an excuse to write more Markus and Connor interactions, now featuring triple the angst, double the Tracis, allegedly naked confessions in a public restroom, and a furby.

error by ZombieBabs

An error message, angry red and insistent, fills Connor’s field of vision.

He blinks, but diagnostics reveal no malfunction. And yet, the error message persists.

It buzzes like an old neon sign, refusing to be ignored.

warm and waking by puppyblue

Connor is not a deviant. He has also been programmed with the ability to lie.

November Cold by floweryhanzo

He's not answering the messages, but by now, Connor knows where to find him.

Fish in a Bowl by ConnorRK

“So as long as it’s not the face, it’s fine, huh?” Reed says. His free hand is suddenly on Connor’s neck, fingers soft against the line of his jaw, and the press of skin is hot. He lets it trail down the front of the CyberLife coat, and Connor can’t stop the shiver of his plates as they respond to the light pressure. “I’ve heard that before.”

(Connor is forced to work with Gavin on the deviancy case when Hank is injured and relegated to two weeks of desk duty.)

Faulty Buzzer by spitfireoo

Connor glitches out and can’t wake up. Hank finds him unresponsive on the couch and remembers the last time he had to carry a son.

Five Times Gavin Receives Kindness and +1 Times He Tries To Give It Back by Lady_Origami

It's hard to continue hating a person when said person is apparently a rather kind soul. Even if that person isn't a person at all, but an android with the same job as him.

101 Things (about Lieutenant Hank Anderson) by MoonlightPastime

“Good morning, Hank.” The Lieutenant grunted, mouth buried in the mug already. Connor glanced towards the tv, led flickering for half a second it took to turn in on. This was also ‘routine’ now. Another thing Connor now knew.

Non-verbal before consuming at least 2.76 fluid oz of coffee.

In which Connor does even more 'homework' on Hank.

Castaways by SilverKnight16

Connor grit his teeth. Why was he making this difficult? “If CyberLife knew that deviancy had the potential to end human lives, they had an obligation to their consumers to protect them from the danger as soon as they were made aware. And if CyberLife knew that deviancy was the formation of self-awareness, then their attempts to stop it are tantamount to genocide.”

“And if you were programmed to hunt them down, that makes you an accessory to murder.” Hank swigged again.

Connor stiffened, Thirium 310 churning loudly in his audio receptors.

--

Like a piece of driftwood in a hurricane, Connor, Hank, and everyone else stranded in the eye of the storm have to navigate something much bigger than themselves--or die.

Validation by spiderstanspiderstan

Post-revolution, androids in the workforce require bi-annual validation. Connor has just turned six months old, and is going for his first.

He does not like it.

Hands Stained Blue by PorcelainPlayground

After the car crash that changed their lives forever, Hank Anderson ends up buying an android to help care for his son, Cole. Being short on money, Hank turns to a collection of second-hand androids and stumbles across Connor, who quickly becomes the second son Hank never knew he wanted.

Too Long, Lost Cause by staringatstars

Fowler knows he didn't stop being Hank's friend when he became his captain. He's been trying to help him for years, but it's starting to seem like the old Anderson isn't coming back. If anything, he's only getting worse.

And he'd hoped giving him a partner, even an android partner, would help get him out of the rut he'd fallen into, but now he can't help but wonder if his latest plan to reignite the fire in him hasn't worked a little too well.

The 5 Times Gavin Was An Ass and the 1 Time He Wasn’t by HelsSoBlue

5 times Gavin was an ass and elicited a response from Connor. And the one time he wasn't an ass.

or

Connor has had enough of Gavin's shit, and Hank is loving every moment of it.

A Strange Comet by windyfiend

Connor's dedication to Jericho's mission -- and his guilt over having hunted his own people -- has him working tirelessly every moment of every day and night. He's given himself no time to breathe, let alone live his new life.

Hank's got something to say about that.

Man’s Best Friend by ryouseiteki

Can one small change affect the course of a Revolution? Connor takes a left instead of a right at the Detroit Police Department reception the morning of his first meeting with Hank.

Connor's brow furrows as he accesses the new ID and doesn't see Lieutenant Anderson listed under Handler. In fact... he is listed under Handler and instead of being under partner or associate, he's been placed above a Trainee named-

"FuzzButtIncoming, come." The android calls out, and through a slot in the door on the other side of the room, a tiny bundle of fur almost buried under a DPD K-9 Unit vest comes gamboling up to stand beside it.

Someone had desperately wanted its initials to spell FBI.

Guillotine by assistmediagnostics

"Then I'll crawl back to Jericho," and as if to exemplify this fact, Simon puts one hand on the graffitied wall, puts his right foot forward, drags his left foot behind it. Rinse. Repeat. It takes him an inordinately long amount of time to walk five feet and by two feet and six and a half inches, Markus is already shaking his head.

"I'm not leaving you behind, Simon."

it's anchored to my racing mind (maybe you can slow its stride) by bibliomatic

Connor's programming tells him he's wrong for being deviant. The new world tells him he's wrong for thinking he's wrong for being a deviant. The result: he feels bad about everything.

Hank's history has led to untreated depression and a roster of coping mechanisms that consists pretty much entirely of alcohol and a partially loaded gun. He isn't really equipped to handle an anxious android on top of that, but he can't bring himself to abandon him either.

The result: Connor moves in.

The result: They begin to help each other.

The result: They fall in love.

((aka conflicts between Connor's opinions and his programming lead to moral OCD, which he deals with badly; he moves in with a still-depressed Hank, which who isn't doing so hot himself; together they learn to deal with their problems and each other a bit better))

cool shit by niltia

Hank hates when Connor puts stuff in his mouth for instrumental analysis. The forensics department personnel, on the other hand, think it’s the best shit ever.

MCR.exe by hopelesspapaya

Cyberlife is about to make a deal with the State Department, but all they have is a prototype with a buggy social module. They stress about that, while Connor tries his best. Meanwhile, Markus learns to play the piano, and develops the artistic taste of an angsty preteen. Kamski and Amanda Struggle through it all.

Canon-era crack taken seriously.

[thepandemicinterviews]

Erol, August 30 2020, Sydney

The only way I can write is to talk to people. As I write this, I’m listening to Italian DJ Freddy K say to his audience in the streets of Berlin, as well as techno fans all over the world, “United we are beautiful.” I don’t know much about techno, but I feel uplifted and inspired seeing this man doing what he loves, doing love, giving a little bit of love to whoever may be listening. Erol introduced me to Freddy K during the course of our interview. From March to June, Freddy K played music live for an hour every day for 100 days, uploading the recordings to SoundCloud for everyone to enjoy. In his interview with Monument, he pronounced, “together we are something … alone you are simply a DJ.” In 1993, at age 21, he began his Virus radio show where he tirelessly played music for four hours every day. 

Everything was a bit more tangible, a bit more believable back then. I am talking in general. Back then, information was absorbed before having already been dissected within a matter of seconds, bounced around the world, lacerated and shoddily put back together by some Twitter commentator. These days, people read Facebook comments before deciding whether to read the article. Algorithms are no longer what you learn in primary school maths. We are post- everything.

I talked to my new friend Erol in my new and improved garage on a long hazy Sunday evening. We spoke for an hour and laughed a lot, at times delightfully interrupted by my housemate Citi. It’s difficult to summarise what we spoke about, but I encourage you to read all of it. The thing that stuck with me the most is Erol saying that everything that is experienced is reality. Categorising, simplifying and disseminating all these divergent and infinite realities: the process of constructing ideology.

A commenter on Freddy K’s 100th radio show said, “Dancing together is the most ancient form of society, it is a human and now also a post-human thing, we cannot avoid it.” I like to think in the distant future, when notions of truth and reality become laughable relics of a previous “humanity,” our deformed bodies will continue dancing forever.

C: What do you think 2021 will look like?

E: That’s a good first question. I think a lot of things will probably go back to how they were in some ways.

C: Do you think we’re already starting to do that?

E: Yeah. My brother works for an airline and he told me that basically from the beginning of next year, countries are just going to open their borders because they just have to for the interests of global capitalism. It will kind of force countries to go back to normal because there’s too much money being lost with closed borders and restrictions that it’s just unsustainable. So from next year, that’s what he thinks. Flights will kind of go back to normal but there’ll be face masks, obviously, and temperature checks and some countries will have mandatory quarantine depending on where you’ve come from or transited through. So that’s like one side of the thing – that’s like the international flow of people, being probably the most drastic thing. One of the most drastic things. Otherwise, I think people are really – assuming that in a lot of places cases don’t go out of control – I guess, people are really good at forgetting things and kind of…

C: Getting used to things.

E: Yeah. Getting used to changes really quickly, and it just becoming normal. Which is kind of what we saw in the past five months or whatever.

C: Especially in the past two months I feel.

E: But even when lockdown first happened, within a couple of weeks it was kind of just like, oh yeah, this is just how it is. And you just kind of accept that. And a couple months later when the restrictions first eased, that just became a thing where you could go to a bar spaced out and hand sanitiser and that was just normal. That’s kind of where we are now. And then I think, assuming there are no crazy outbreaks in Australia again like in Melbourne, then it would kind of be like people would just forget what it was like a year ago.

C: Yeah, going out every weekend.

E: Yeah. I think people just kind of adapt to circumstances really quickly without reflecting, I’ve found. At least personally. I’ve talked to other people and there’s lots of like, just kind of accept the circumstances.

C: What’s the alternative?

E: In what way?

C: Like is there an alternative?

E: An alternative 2021?

C: To accepting the circumstances. Is there a way to take action?

E: I always thought that the pandemic might be an opportunity for, I don’t know, systemic change. Something idealistic like that. But it’s like not.

C: It’s not! I was reading this article about Michael Moore saying that Trump will get re-elected and that everyone needs to wake up. And that terrifies me. That date when we watch it, and it’s just another four years. It just made everything worse rather than better, maybe.

E: I thought that as well. When he first got elected – seems like he could get elected again. I don’t really know enough about US electoral politics.

C: It’s so flawed that he could get re-elected.

E: Is it a flaw? It’s not like rigged, necessarily.

C: It is.

E: Yeah, I guess the electoral college system.

C: Also like Russian interference is real, and him being against the postal service is definitely strategic.

Citi arrives.

Citi: Erol, I have no idea what I’ve walked into, but what is the most obscure meal you ate that you wouldn’t have eaten if it wasn’t for Covid?

Chloe: That’s an amazing question!

Erol: That’s a really good question. Better than your opener. Obscure meal?

Citi: Yeah, just a meal that wouldn’t have taken place if it wasn’t for Covid.

Erol: You mean like the food, or the people?

Citi: Whatever. You can interpret it however you want to interpret it.

Erol: I’m so bad at thinking of things on the spot. Okay, I guess here’s one. Have you guys still not been to the Pantry?

Chloe: No.

Erol: I went and got these frozen pork steaks for like a dollar, or something. They’d been frozen just before they went off, I guess. They’d passed the use-by date frozen in time. I had those and then Tom came over, and he wasn’t going to eat, but I was like, can you help me cook these because I don’t know what to do with them. And then Tom just scored them and seasoned them and put all this random shit on them that I would have never have had otherwise. That I didn’t know you could do to a rough piece of disgusting meat. And then I cooked them and ate them alone and it was quite nice, surprisingly. So he came and saved the meal. Pantry food goes alright. It was an absurd meal though, I have to say.

Citi: That’s a great answer.

Citi leaves.

C: Have you been keeping in contact with people from around the world?

E: Yes I have, which has been cool because I do think of myself as someone who’s bad at keeping in contact with people when I’m not with them in the same city and seeing them. So I’ve just always thought that was who I was and I was okay with that, and I would occasionally message someone who I haven’t spoken to in ages and catch up with them. But surprisingly, because I have lots of friends in Berlin and around Europe and even in Canada, I’ve had catch-ups with them way more than I thought I would have otherwise.

C: Have you been comparing experiences?

E: Yeah. I think there’s definitely that kind of cliché of, oh yeah, everyone’s going through a similar thing which is true to an extent. It’s a very unique experience where everyone is in a similar position because there were lockdowns all over the world. So that was definitely true. And then, I guess in Australia I was always thinking about like – our government’s response was in a lot of ways stricter. There was – still is –enforcement with fines which lots of countries didn’t have. At least in Germany, I know there was a big – like as restrictions started to ease people just went back to normal. I’m thinking mostly about partying and holding raves and stuff. That just happened straight away, and I was kind of jealous of that because it didn’t happen here. Rightfully – it shouldn’t. There have been a couple of outbreaks at raves which would just be terrible if that happened here. When I message my friends I’m like, yeah we still don’t have any parties. We’re still just at people’s houses.

C: It’s going to be that for a while!

E: I’m optimistic that it will change in the summer, maybe.

C: But will that be bad? Will we feel guilty?

E: Yeah, you will feel guilty. But this is the thing that I was kind of saying before, that things will probably just go back to, to a large extent, how they were. Assuming that even if there is no vaccine by early next year, I think – as we’ve kind of seen in New South Wales already, that will just ease a bit more. Governments will make decisions, and they already have, that are more in the economic interests than in the public health interest.

C: It seems like the news recently has been a lot of anti Queensland being so hard on their borders. I’ve seen a few articles about that.

E: And before the Melbourne outbreak happened in late-June/July, it was a lot of pressure – everyone was like, this thing is over, it’s done. And then, when that happened that was kind of like a wakeup call, and there were some outbreaks in Sydney and stuff. But now it’s kind of going back to where it was in the rest of the country.

C: Yeah, like it was a necessary wakeup call. Which is terrible, but probably would have happened later at some point? So hopefully it doesn’t get as bad from here on. But it will depend a lot on the international borders. So if those open up, I guess we have to live with this?

E: So I was planning to go back to Germany in May next year to do an exchange. And it seems like the uni is just assuming it’ll go ahead. Like everyone’s just operating on that assumption. It’s kind of interesting to see how that forward-thinking, like forward-planning – because it kind of just threw everything out of whack in terms of like, any plans ever, forever. Just destroyed in a matter of weeks. It’s kind of crazy to think about. I want to say liberating? Because there’s no – you’re not locked into anything.

C: There’s no free will! This little virus ruined the whole world [laughs]. It didn’t mean to.

E: So we’ll see if that goes ahead. It’s been kind of nice – at least for a while there, I was like, well no one’s really doing anything in the world, at all. No one’s having that much fun anywhere. I’m at home and so is literally everyone else in the world.

C: Have you taken up any new hobbies? Do you have more time now as a result?

E: I haven’t taken up any hobbies. I’ve been busy with Uni and work, which is definitely a good thing. It’s good to keep busy because I definitely would’ve had a very different experience if I wasn’t super occupied. So I even took on an extra subject for Uni, just because I was like, I want to speed up my degree and everything’s at home, online, there are no exams, they’re all take home things. So can’t be that hard. It was pretty hard, turns out [laughs].

C: Yeah, it’s crazy. I remember studying for my exam, 48 hour exam, like what can they do to make it hard? And they did make it hard! It took me a whole night, I pulled an all-nighter.

E: Yeah, same. But it was kind of nice because I was like, well, there’s no point studying heaps because the exam’s going to be on a very particular part of the course. I can just learn that part of the course in the – we had 72 hours. Which was like 72 hours of hell! But I think probably less stressful overall than doing a two-hour exam that you have to cram for.

C: Yeah, I mean it taps into a different kind of learning and memory. Like I think I’ve retained more information from the course as a result, rather than cramming it and just rote learning everything.

E: Interesting. All of my exams are open-book exams normally anyway, which is really good. But the stress is you make a really good set of notes. I was very pro doing the take-home exams and that’s why I took an extra subject. So I found I was just at my desk all the time, which was kind of repetitive, obviously, but not terrible. I moved house at the end of June. My last place was much smaller and my desk was really uncomfortable. The ground was like sloped, so I was always on a slope and I had a bad back, which you don’t want at 22.

C: I have a bad back as well.

E: It’s tough, backs are really important.

C: Just gotta exercise more.

E: Yeah, well, who’s going to do that. My new place is really nice. The thing I rave about – I guess you haven’t been there during the day – it’s north-facing, so that the whole courtyard is fully in the sun during the day. And the back rooms and kitchen are really sunny. The last place was not north-facing, so there wasn’t much sun. And that just made a huge difference to my mood and how I’d go about it. I’d just go and sit in that room at the back, or in the courtyard and do work. That was really nice.

C: I’ve been doing that as well. Have you been working from home?

E: I’m working like three days a week from home, kind of. I had classes and work and online lectures. So it’s been a lot of that. But now I’m on holidays for a couple weeks, so it’s much nicer.

C: Do you have trimesters?

E: Yeah, we have trimesters. So that was Trimester 2. Trimester 1, the lockdown happened halfway through, and that was really interesting to see the rapidly unfolding changing situation. The uni was like, oh, it’s fine, we’re open, and then they were like, no, we’re not open. Everyone go home. In a matter of days.

C: Yeah, I remember being in my French class, and then being in my English class on the Thursday, and them saying, just be mentally prepared if Uni shuts down, if the campus shuts down. We were all kind of like, ahh, surely that’s not going to happen. And then within a matter of days it shuts down.

E: Yeah, wow.

C: It’s a weird feeling. But now we’ve come to a point where we’ve just accepted it. It’s not like surprising.

E: Exactly. I felt kind of guilty about this feeling – I still do – but as it was unfolding in real time, obviously it was a terrible thing happening in the world, but it was really exhilarating to kind of watch the live updates.

C: Absolutely. Yeah, for sure, and now it’s like kind of boring.

E: Yeah. I was on that live feed, checking the live cases. Obviously those are people’s lives, and all the terrible things that happened. But I was like, I feel like I’m in a movie!

C: Yeah, me too.

E: Stuff’s happening, Germany’s closed its borders. It’s like an apocalyptic thing that’s real life.

C: Everyone in the world is living through it. It’s like, we haven’t had this before in our lifetimes.

E: Absolutely not. I read something that even world wars weren’t really world wars, they were mostly European wars. It didn’t affect the whole world. Whereas this literally affected the whole world.

C: Not one country unscathed.

E: Yeah, I thought a lot about the feeling you’re in a movie or something. It’s not real, or whatever. Trying to grasp the reality of the situation. And especially with everyone being in their own houses, in their rooms, absorbing everything through a screen the whole time. Like how is that reality? That’s how you’re processing information, hearing things about the world, processing that, and then existing in that and experiencing it. Like everything is through a screen and through some mediated technology. And it just felt like our whole world before 2020 was kind of leading up to this moment, where people were absorbed with social media. Like everything becoming less and less tangible and understandable and more chaotic, and things are happening and politics is going crazy. And then all of a sudden, a pandemic happens. It just takes it to a logical extreme of where it was heading already. And then it’s like, when that happens, how do people react in that situation? Oh yeah, there’s like a mental health crisis unheard of before.

C: And conspiracy theorists, I think, is linked to that.

E: Oh, definitely. The whole thing about truth. People trying to work out and navigate if something’s truth. Lots of people said with Trump’s election and Brexit and stuff, and all this alt-right scepticism which is also deeply linked to the conspiracy theories, it’s like we’re in a post-truth world or something. Fake news and stuff. These were all massive terms thrown around in 2016 when this stuff happened.

C: We’re seeing it all come to its most extreme form.

E: It just keeps going. It’s like, well where to from here? Can we go back to truth? I wrote an essay about this for international relations. Like what postmodern, post-structural theorists had been kind of thinking about the world, and world-politics generally, and looking at representation and how meaning is constructed. All of this kind of – is it bullshit or what are they even talking about kind of theorising. And then I was like, oh this kind of does make sense in terms of thinking about these past few years, and then everything just becoming more… There’s no fixed points of meaning, like thinking about what is legitimate. It’s completely unmoored, detached.

C: The line between reality and satire has become so blurred. Everything is ridiculous, absurd.

E: Yeah, our humour online is like ironic, or post-ironic. No one even knows.

C: No one knows.

E: And maybe that’s the point, like you’re not supposed to know. So it’s really hard to process this. But it’s like, well, I still do my daily tasks. I still get out of bed, turn on my laptop in the morning, and log into that lecture or whatever. Scroll Instagram in the evening. Maybe TikTok.

C: You go on TikTok?

E: Yeah, I go through phases of downloading it. Scrolling for like three hours straight, be like, that’s terrifying, and delete it straightaway. That happened a couple times. It’s really fascinating. That’s like the next level. Because it’s just people producing content and it just mirrors forever around the world, and they use the sound from one video over and over again on different videos everywhere in the world. Depending on how the algorithm works, you can access some very niche topics. Like random interests. My friend said somehow the algorithm thought she was an amputee. Kept showing her amputee content.

C: That’s crazy.

E: And another friend was saying she keeps ending up on Pakistani TikTok, and just seeing Pakistani content. But she kind of enjoys it and it’s really interesting to look at. It’s now being banned in the US which will probably mean the end of it for a lot of Western countries because a lot of our content consumption is driven by US tastes, I think. It’s a bit scary but true. Yeah, there’s a lot happening. I guess that’s a good way to link back to what does 2021 hold, because where to from here?

C: Do you think we can retain our sense of reality? I think so. I hope so. There’ll always be like a smart minority, maybe. Maybe it’ll become more and more of a minority.

E: I feel like some of the point of that thought is like, well, actually there is no distinction between whatever we were just talking about and reality. They are all what is experienced and what is reality. There never was an objective truth, or something. There never was something that made sense. But it’s just kind of thrown up in our faces more and more that we’re now seeing this. I don’t know, there’s always been lying as the bedrock of politics. Always.

C: Skewing reality.

E: And the media is an essential part of creating that kind of reality and assumptions and common understandings of things like invading Iraq in 2003. It was like, they have weapons of mass destruction and everyone’s like, yes they do, all of a sudden, because President Bush said that. And then, let’s invade Iraq illegally. Is that post-truth? Like why didn’t we think of that like that? But maybe this advancement is just us realising more and more that this is how we experience reality. I don’t know if that makes any sense.

C: That makes a lot of sense. I can’t remember what it’s called but like Althusser – have you read Althusser?

E: Yeah.

C: My course that I did last semester was called Text, Action, and Ideology. So I thought a lot about that. How ideology is created. It’s all manufactured by people in power.

E: Yeah, absolutely. And then the subsequent question is, well, what does that actually mean for how I exist or conduct myself or do things or make decisions. I just think it doesn’t change anything. Thinking about things in this way, whatever that way is.

C: Yeah, we still have to exist practically.

E: I don’t know, it’s kind of jarring. Whenever I think about politics I always get to this pessimistic thing of like, oh well, people are just idiots and there’s nothing you can do about that. I don’t know, there might be a climate catastrophe in the next hundred years. There’s probably not much that we can really change. Maybe there is, but what, I’ll go to rallies, vote for good candidates. Like, cool, let’s have a revolution. How? How are you going to do that? There’s like a military. How are you going to overthrow the military to change the fundamental order of capitalism? Like, nope. And then it’s like, well what do I do then? Yeah, I guess I’ll turn my laptop on and attend this lecture in the morning [laughs].

C: That’s very much how I think as well.

E: I guess everyone thinks like that.

C: Some people think they can make a difference. And I admire that and I respect that. But this is reality. We live in a society.

E: We live in a society [laughs].

C: It’s kind of fucked. But it’s always been fucked. Humans are fallible. And things have been worse in the past.

E: I think about that a lot, like what’s it been like in the past compared to now. Because people always seem to think that the now is the worst.

C: But it’s been worse.

E: But it has been worse, yeah.

C: I don’t think I would be able to exist as comfortably as I do a hundred years ago.

E: Definitely. Yeah, it is kind of a thing of hope, maybe. Hope in quotation marks. The things that we take very for granted now are still very new in the inventions or creations of progression in society. Who knows what is actually possible, even in our lifetimes.

C: What’s it going to be like when we’re old? It’s terrifying.

E: Yeah, it is a bit scary. The thing about forgetfulness, like people just forget what it was like. Personally, I forgot what it was like in December/January, what like 8/9 months ago when we had apocalyptic bushfires. And Sydney was covered in smoke for months, and you couldn’t do anything. And summer was terrible because it was blanketed in smoke. And that was like, whoa, this is real, this is climate change, it’s really happening. But that’s kind of been forgotten, straightaway. Even if there wasn’t a pandemic, probably would be the same. Bushfires have disappeared, the smoke disappeared, back to normal or whatever. It’s a bit disappointing, maybe.

C: What’s been positive in your life because of Covid?

E: I guess I moved out from South Sydney to around here just before lockdown happened. I was able to see friends who live around here really easily. It was kind of necessary. Tom and I just went on heaps of bike rides, absurdly long. I wasn’t really a cyclist at all, never became a cyclist, but we cycled to Mosman, random places, because it was the only thing you could do in April/May. I guess I became closer with a few people which was nice. I think I’ve just been really lucky all around. I have quite a few friends who suffered pretty badly with mental health stuff. Even retaining their jobs and stuff. Just the isolation of it. I think I’m a person who is pretty extraverted and needs some social things happening. But even with that I was still pretty good. I think I’ve gotten through pretty well, which I’m pretty fortunate and thankful for. I just realised how precariously so many people live under our late-stage capitalism.

C: I feel the same because I kept my job of four years throughout. I kept working at least once a week throughout the height of lockdown, so it was a bit of normalcy to ground me.

E: Yeah, fully necessary. My friends in Berlin, lots of them are migrants. Lots from Turkey, who don’t have much job security, or just general security, because your Visa is tied to your job, or tied to study. And with exchange rates, even if their families could help them, it wouldn’t be possible to stay long-term without a job. So that became such a defining thing, whether you kept your job, whether you can kind of retain your life, or if you have to move home. Thankfully most of them were able to get by. That’s something that’s really bad as well in Australia with international students, just complete abandonment.

C: How do you feel about New Zealand’s response compared to Australia?

E: I think a lot of things – just really clear government messaging…

C: Just really like – I mean, it’s because they’re a small country and they all feel kind of linked together. It wouldn’t have worked here.

E: There’s no federal system there. Whereas here, there’s lots of differences of opinion between state and federal governments which is a thing that’s hard to work out. So that’s probably helpful. And yeah, being a small country made it easier. Immediately, they were like, okay, it’s Stage 3.

C: Yeah, I talk to my friends all the time and they are just like – they know exactly what the levels are, and they just uphold that. I feel like they’ve overreacted a little bit. I don’t know, that’s a good thing overall, but it’s like, you’re kind of out of touch with the rest of the world. But that’s good for you, you’re just kind of this isolated little country.

E: Little island. Islands. Yeah, that makes such a huge difference because there’s so many people in a country. There’s millions of people. They all have to get a message and follow a thing. Even in Victoria when they went into really harsh lockdown, how do you get everyone to know the rules and follow the rules. The police response I think has shown that it’s not necessarily effective to just fine people. Because it’s just not how a society functions, to retroactively punish for things rather than having a solid public health campaign. And the reaction a lot of the time, this kind of conspiracy reaction is like, the police are coming and fining you and entering your homes and checking up on you. And it’s this very forceful kind of state action. Whereas in most European countries, there’s no fines for not complying with directions. Whereas we still have fines here in New South Wales. Which are just used at the discretion of the police, which is just such an issue. Like the Sydney Uni protest against fee hikes. And they fined however many people there, and arrested them, whereas the classes were still ongoing – a class with 60 people and there were 50 people at a protest, socially distanced. Again, maybe just something that’s really showing us the realities of how our society functions. Very punitive.

C: Keeping the social order. Police state.

E: Yeah.

C: It’s hard, because how do you balance that.

E: It is a very delicate thing, but the period where Black Lives Matter took off around the world, and there were very few, like 0-2 cases [a day] in New South Wales, and they allowed one protest to go ahead – the huge one, but then the other ones after that they completely clamped down on and arrested and fined people.

C: It’s not about Covid… There’s so much more going on.

E: Oh, yeah. Just kind of throws it into your face. This is exactly what this country is built on. This should’ve been light-hearted! Should’ve talked about raves, I want to go partying…

C: What kind of music have you been listening to?

E: I guess, my electronic music taste is mostly just standard techno. Pretty like, not mainstream, but in terms of people who listen to techno, just standard stuff. Whereas, since coming back to Sydney I’ve, through Tom and others, been broadening into different horizons with electronic music, like more edgy experimental stuff. Which has been really cool. Check out their new compilation [laughs].

C: Josh is on it!

E: Really? Oh true. Do you know what track is his?

C: I don’t know, I haven’t seen the tracklist.

E: Yeah, I have been listening to a lot of different music. Actually, this might be interesting for you. There’s an Italian DJ who lives in Berlin, kind of standard techno stuff. Still really good music. But he kind of is part of a community of people, mostly a queer community. And obviously clubs shut straightaway, and he started, in March, a daily radio show/podcast, where he just plays tracks for an hour and puts it on SoundCloud. Every day. He did it for a hundred days. Which I was like, how the hell could you do – not even skipping one day. And every day, on time, 3pm. It was really kind of uplifting in the moments where you were just sitting at home, and you’d just hear this Italian dude being like, you know, we’re all in this together, don’t worry! Like I’m inside too, or whatever. But let’s listen to some good music.

C: I feel like that’s Italy, like that’s want we want from Italy. They went through the worst of it and have come out like, it’s all okay guys!

E: Yeah, it was really nice. And he just felt super real, because he’d talk about the weather that day. Like, it’s a nice sunny day. Oh, it’s a grey day, it’s okay guys! And then the last episode was like – the hundredth was the last episode, so that’s over three months every day. And restrictions had eased a bit, and he played his show in this setup they have where it’s just a room on the side of the road. It’s a DJ booth and they play a live set just there and people walking by could just watch this person they’ve got playing. They had him there, and a fair few people, socially distanced around, kind of dancing around him on the hundredth episode. And then everyone was crying at the end. I just thought that kind of community thing…

C: I cried about Italy. And when they all started singing on their balconies, I was like, this is beautiful.

E: Did you see the thing in Sydney? There were like two singers, two guys, who sang “I Still Call Australia Home”? Like from their apartment to the other apartment. Somewhere in a rich part of Sydney. But it was still nice. Pretty heart-warming. That’s the thing, when you’re so kind of downtrodden, really simple things can lift you up.

C: Yeah, like baking bread? I haven’t done that.

E: I didn’t do that. I didn’t do any of the standard things.

C: I didn’t either. Too busy.

E: I really didn’t do anything different a lot of the time, having been at home. I read some books. Reading books is nice. I’ve been trying to keep that up, which hasn’t been going too badly actually.

C: Good.

E: Yeah, books are nice. I recommend books [laughs]. I read a book in the park today, it was really nice.

C: Erol endorses books.

E: Like literally anything. Just not right-wing politics books. Most other things are quite nice. Fiction, like reading stories is nice.

C: I like reading non-fiction, like essays.

E: Yeah, essays are cool. I find a non-fiction book, like a whole book about politics –

C: It doesn’t have to be about politics. But I guess everything is about politics.

E: Yeah. Just like a non-fiction whole book, I’m just like, it’s a lot of things.

C: I like the kind of in-between non-fiction and fiction. I think that’s where the good stuff is.

E: Yeah, do you have any recommendations?

C: I’m reading Wayne Koestenbaum. It’s just a bunch of essays where every sentence is just so well-constructed and ridiculously good. He’s inspired by Susan Sontag and that kind of writing, so. He’s a gay man who lived through the 80s, lived through the AIDS epidemic and all of that, Andy Warhol scene, so it’s interesting. And he’s very smart.

E: I’m all about book recommendations. I endorse recommendations.

C: You recommend recommendations [laughs].

E: Yeah, I recommend asking for recommendations. If someone’s read something that’s cool, I also might enjoy it, maybe.

Citi arrives again.

Citi: I’ve come to eavesdrop.

Chloe: We’re endorsing books and recommendations. We recommend recommendations. This is going to be a great interview written down. This is the longest interview [laughs].

Erol: I’m sorry!

Chloe: No, it’s fantastic. It’s been an hour!

Citi: I take recommendations, so I’ll have to pay attention.

Chloe: This is going to be the best interview. Thank you Issy.

Erol: Really?

Chloe: I think so. It’s so meta. I love it. We’ve gone places.

Citi: How does it end? Does it end?

Erol: It never ends. Does anything ever end?

[wanderingkat]

Velvet Echoes Interview

Loud and ready to bring back a British Invasion, I interviewed the Velvet Echoes who have an infinite intention to scale the Indie/Garage/Rock genre with cut throat beats and vocals you'll remember years from now. Without another sordid tale of love lost, Velvet Echoes bring forth a fulfilled testament of incendiary melodies and iconoclast ambition.

1.) First off, how did the band name come about?

George: The name came about through messing around with words we thought sounded cool. We came up with an awful name 'Velvet Indarma' which made me die inside every time someone asked what we were called. So, in the end, I came up with Echoes and wallah...velvet echoes were born.

Luke: I actually have no idea (laugh) I wasn't part of the band during the naming process (hysterical laughterJoss: We had a vote on various band names that we felt suited the future of the band, and Velvet echoes was a blend of the two winners. Or at least that's how I remember it.

Simon: Well, early on our name was ‘Velvet Indarma’… I don’t think any of us knew what ‘Indarma’ meant we just found it on a random word generator… The word ‘Velvet’ I think came from us thinking about great bands like Velvet Underground and the image the word conjures… it’s a soft and classy material…also, it’s a juxtaposition as we can also be quite heavy, raw and dark with our music. We had a line-up change and wanted to drop ‘Indarma’ so we replaced it with the word ‘Echoes’ when we started taking the band more seriously.

2.) Simon, Luke, Joss, and George could you tell us more about your backgrounds in music? Were all of you in previous bands before?

George: I was in a band called Marmalade Sky and before that, I was in a school band called Open Doors. Both were a right laugh but this has definitely been the most intense but enjoyable. Never really got into reading music or proper guitar lessons. Just use to watch the guitarist in my last band and learn from him. Then the rest has just been learned by ear, I reckon.

Luke: I've actually always played as a solo acoustic act, just covering bands like The Courteeners, The View, and the occasional Kooks track. But I've always been writing and incorporating my own songs into my sets and playing with a lot of other musicians just randomly.

Joss: I've been playing guitar since I was about 11. I remember listening to Nelly Furtado on the radio and thinking " Yeah I'm going to be a musician". I don't know why. I'd always been into biology up till then. I've since played in all sorts of bands ranging from jazz to heavy metal because I enjoy experimenting and learning new techniques.

Simon: I started playing the drums when I was 11 and have been in multiple bands playing different genres. All of them fell apart after time and before we started this band I drummed for a short amount of time in Georges previous band ‘Marmalade Sky’ in which we became better friends. That time also opened my eyes to the level of standard you have to be at to make things work. Each musical project I’ve been a part of, even when I’ve not been the drummer. Has come to shape the way I play in Velvet Echoes which is pretty cool.

3.) As far as influences go (Oasis, The Stone Rose, The Jam, Led Zeppelin and etc...) are there any other influences that would be a bit unusual that the band has incorporated into the sound you have now?

George: For me, a Spanish band called the Hinds have influenced me more recently. Bowie and the last shadow puppets also.

Luke: Well I listen to a lot of music so I imagine some of it does come through. But I think because each of us has a different taste we all bring something different to the table making the sound our own I guess. (wink)

Joss: I suppose each of each brings our own influences and interests to shape our sound more than anything. I was always told a good bassist is a solid bassist so I focus more on being rhythmically tight with Simon more than anything. I do love the Beatles though so Paul McCartney is definitely an influence.

Simon: Everyone in the band has different influences which are great, especially when we are able to merge them into our music. I’m influenced by artists like Taking back Sunday, Falling in Reverse & I am really into a band called Boy jumps ship at the moment which has shaped my drumming on some of our newer songs. Since our first E.P; which was probably more in the stylistic realms of the bands you’ve listed we’ve defiantly gone more anthemic. I think the choruses have a slightly more pop influence and some of the more musical parts have a more atmospheric and epic sound.

4.) What do you feel happened to British Indie-Rock? Because I'd say within the last handful of years there has been a definite quiet surge among this particular genre and area.

George: I'd say it's been a bit shit since the 90's. People got bored of guitar music but I feel like that's slowly changing now bands like Catfish & The Bottlemen are doing well. Even though Ed Sheeran isn't indie he's still bringing the guitar back into fashion which I feel will have a positive knock-on effect with the indie scene. Fingers crossed anyway.

Luke: I think it's gonna be huge. We're leading the charge and indie-rocks gonna be in the top of the charts instead all that bullshit that’s in there now. I mean what the fuck is a Nicki Minaj even supposed to be? Rank.

Joss: I think it just progressed as does any fashion, fad or scene. It never really ended, it just changed.

Simon: Bands like Oasis, The Stone Roses & Blur paved the way for the Brit pop scene which had massive success but naturally more modern music has since taken the limelight. I think you’re right that the British indie-Rock is starting to come back around. It’s similar to fashion I guess…things that are timeless become popular again and are revisited and often with a twist.

5.) While working with John Cornfield at Sawmills Studio, did Cornfield help bring out the Velvet Echoes natural sound or stir up some unknown territory?

George: John was great. He got the best out of us for that moment in time, and he has the sound we asked for in terms of production. Having said that, I think next time we will be a bit more experimental and try out new territory.

Luke: We actually learned a lot with John, it was a real eye opener of a week. He made the sound we already had bigger there's so much experience to be taught by him so I'm pretty sure he rubbed off on us a lot without us realizing.

Joss: John was a beast in the studio. His experience allowed us to just relax and play creatively. We let John put his own stamp on our sound and I think for this E.P it's the right sound.

Simon: Working with John defiantly brought out a sound that we already had and displayed it to us in a way that we never imagined. His initial playback sounded massive and that was really exciting for us. It allowed us to relax a bit more because we were reassured that we were moving in the right direction. This encouraged us to put forward even more ideas. It was such a privilege to work with John and a real highlight of the band's career so far. I think he just brought out the best in us.

6.) Even though Velvet Echoes is still a young band, what would be two major critical components you've all learned being in a band?

George: I'd say have a laugh even when it's hard. You're in this because it's your passion and your dream, but I know personally I can take shit too seriously and that ruins it for me at times. But I'd also say you all need to work together. You're in a band because you don't want to do it alone. That goes for the good times and the bad, so you have to stick together and be a unit.

Luke: the first would be how much work we all have to put into being in this band.The second is the exact amount of beer I can drink before being 'too pissed' to play a gig (laugh)

Joss: Teamwork. We're a bloody team. We're brothers and we act like it. Love, hate and everything in between.

Simon: At this stage, everything is still a learning process. I would say one of the main things is self-discipline and trying to use the creative time we spend together productively. When you are four good friends it’s easy to get half way through a band practice only to realize that you have spent three hours ‘Mooing’ like a small herd of lost buffalo which we can all agree isn’t overly productive in the studio…. Other than that, balancing everyone’s work schedules with practicing, gigs, studio time and general promotion commitments is always a challenge.

7.) With the release of an EP soon which means new material of course, in what direction is the band taking? More chorus based songs, catchy riffs, etc...

Luke: Just massive sounds and massive chorus I guess, there's no one same sound to our music really, one song will be a wall of sound and epic and another could be funky bass lines and sleazy lyrics.

Joss: We're looking at developing our hooks. Memorable lines in a piece that you can just hum or whistle to a mate, and they can instantly recognize, are what make classics in my opinion.

Simon: The new material is more upbeat and I think is more reflective of the band's personality. We will still include songs that are dark in subject matter and rocky in origin but we are also experimenting with lighter ‘hook based’ material which has evolved in our songwriting recently which is a contrast to our previous darker material.

8.) When can we expect a full-length album to emerge? And is there a possible album title being thrown around at the moment? George: I'd say that this EP we concentrate more on being as epic as possible and having quite an anthem-esq kind of sound. But as one of the main songwriter of the band, I'd say that's going to change again in the future. But for now, we will your this EP and try and get our name out there as much as possible. Next time we might be rawer though! Who knows.

Luke: I think we're thinking about it individually but I still think we've got a lot to learn about ourselves as a band before an album is going to be ready (lol)

Joss: Best not ask me for an album title, you won't know whether I'm serious or not! As for an album itself, I don't think it'll be on our agenda till there's a need for it. At the moment there's a shift is the public's listening patterns and I think the number of people who listen to an entire album start to finish is declining. I could be wrong but I don't know many people that listen to a full album nowadays.

Simon: We have talked about a full-length album and have enough material to make one. However, I don’t think we will produce a full-length album until we are absolutely confident that it will be the best that we can do. We still have a lot of developing to do as a band before we reach that point. We haven’t discussed a name for a full-length album but we have decided on a title for our latest E.P…  That said when you take into account the impact pf E.P’s, YouTube and iTunes the necessity for a full-length album at this time doesn’t seem to be at the top of our priorities.

[eyez-ff-blog]

○○ eyez | twenty-two

“This week, we’re going to talk about the two ‘f words;’ family, and fear.”

Jermaine let out a soft sigh as he sat in the plush office, glancing around at the different artwork on the crème colored walls. He looked down at his watch before he tilted his head, glancing back up at the woman that sat across from he and Beija. Her short, brunette and bobbed hairstyle seemed to frame her slender face, and she was dressed professionally in a pants suit. Her wedding band seemed to gleam in the sunlight that shone through the windows. Pictures of her husband and children sat on her desk in pristine display, and the perfection of the surroundings seemed to freak the man out.

Dr. Hills was the couples’ counselor that Jermaine had found after a long search for someone to help out with the road to better health. With the past couple of months of visits, it seemed to help things with not only Beija’s own issues, but there were things J was discovering about himself that he never thought he had before. But today would serve to probably one of the harder days. “Jermaine, how was life for you growing up?” Dr. Hills started on him first.

“It was cool. Despite things that may have been happening with my mom, she made it so that me and my brother were able to have a happy childhood,” He answered simply, not entirely sure of what part to emphasize or explain.

“Last week, when we touched on regrets, you said you had mixed feelings about leaving Fayetteville for New York because your mother had been dealing with things at the time—do you feel protective of your mother?” The doctor asked, and he felt Beija’s hand slip into his.

J laced his fingers with his love’s, and he relaxed against the couch as he cocked a dry smile. “I mean, who isn’t protective of their mama? We always wish we could hold the household down so they don’t have to, at least for a day,” He glanced out the window that sat to the left of him, taking in the views of the city he called home. “But at the time I was focused on one thing—my music and school. I knew I was going to college but I knew I wasn’t making it in music by staying home,” He said softly.

“Does your protection of her connecting to your father and step-father taking their leave from the family unit?” The room grew silent.

J gave a soft shrug before he glanced down at his lap. “Shit...maybe. Sometimes I felt like ‘damn, y’all old ass men and you not man enough to care, so I got to,’ you know? It was a pressure I put on myself,” He said.

“Hm...” She began to write down on her clipboard, and Jermaine felt that weird sense of vulnerability that at this point, he didn’t feel comfortable sharing. Even with as open as he was with Beija, even she didn’t dig this deep. But he was trying his best to embrace the discomfort until it became comfortable. He had to set an example—if he trusted the process, he had hope that Beija would be moved to do the same. “Okay, Beija. What about you? What was your childhood like?”

“It was a happy one at some point,” B began, and Jermaine took the time to listen as he glanced over a her. “Had my parents—married, still married. I have...had, four brothers. We lived down in middle-class Houston, and we were happy. Went to private schools, had traditional weeks—chores and family time on Saturdays, church on Sundays, Sunday dinners, the whole nine. It was damn near cookie cutter,” She nodded.

“But then your brother was murdered,” Dr. Hills interjected.

J felt Beija squeeze his hand, and he squeezed in response before his thumb slowly brushed against her knuckles. “Yes. Rashaad was murdered,” She gulped softly after responding. “Then we kind of lost our way,” She explained.

“Can you explain what that means?” The doctor asked, and Beija frowned as she looked down at her lap. “Take your time, sweetheart. Or you don’t have to answer right now,” She added.

Beija was quiet for a moment, and Jermaine slowly scooted to turn towards her. His other hand slowly covered hers, and he sat silently as he awaited her answer or confirmation that she wasn’t ready to touch upon it. “It started with my parents. Of course, no parent should have to bury their then 14-year-old son,” She explained. “My father felt ashamed...he was an officer of the law at one point. He was proud of serving the community. He just lost the passion and quit after one of his own killed his son. That guy worked with my dad everyday. He had been to our house for dinner,” She sighed. “And then somehow, my brother got mistaken for a criminal. Because he was black...he died for being a black boy,” She mumbled.

“And how did your mother cope?” Dr. Hills asked.

“Cope?” B laughed painfully. “I don’t think she knows what coping really is—I learned that about her. She kind of just pushed it to the side. She did enough to get through the funeral, but after that she kind of just fell off. She stopped really responding to the world around her. Time stopped for her when we lost Rashaad,” She responded.

“Jermaine...can you relate to this at all?” Dr. Hills looked to J to show support.

“Not with a family member, but I’ve lost friends due to gun violence. Whether it was from another dude coming at them on some street shit, or if it even was a police officer, I’ve lost people,” He said softly. “Sometimes I felt stuck in a void of time, a void where I wasn’t quite sure if anyone else was aware of or cared about the loss,” He explained.

“That could be what your mother is going through,” Dr. Hills placed her attention upon Beija again, connecting the dots between the situations explained. “Now tell me—did the behaviors of your parents fall upon you and the rest of your siblings?” She asked.

“My brothers and I lost touch with one another quickly,” B scratched the side of her face as she spoke, sitting back against the couch. “My oldest brothers fought all the time. My dad had started drinking by that time and my parents constantly argued and fought, so my brothers blamed each other for it. My younger brother was probably the only one who tried to give me his attention,” She explained. “I think he just wanted to be loved and comforted, but I was too busy blaming myself,” She grew quiet again, and J grabbed the tissue box from the nearby table, sitting it in her lap.

“You explained night terrors to me as an occurrence through your depressive episodes. Describe that to me,” Dr. Hills pressed.

“Uhm,” B grabbed a tissue and dabbed at her eyes briefly. “It’s the day he died—July 4th. The dream goes through like, that particular hour,” She mumbled. “And he dies. He dies in my arms every single time. And he looks at me with this expression—almost as if asking me why I let this happen to him,” She explained. “Even though I know at 25 that there was nothing that 12-year-old me could have possibly done without possibly endangering myself too, something within me blames myself. I can’t explain why,” B huffed softly.

“And you mentioned in our individual session last week about the incident at ‘The Sheltuh’ down in North Carolina,” Dr. Hills said, and J raised his eyebrows slowly, seeing as he was kind of in the dark when it came to the solo sessions Hills had with Beija. “Would you like to talk about it in front of Jermaine?”

Beija began to gently tear at the tissue in her hand, and J tilted his head as he leaned over, resting his elbows against his knees. “You don’t have to you if you don’t want to, baby,” He reminded her.

“I need you to know,” B said immediately after. So her silence wasn’t resistance or hesitation, and J could only assume it was her trying to find the words to say. “I had the dream again...and you were in it. You were the one they murdered,” She said, and his face seemed to soften. The most strange sense of heartbreak and dread filled him, and it quickly turned into a flurry of concerned questions that swirled in his brain.

Even with all of his mental questions, only one stood out enough for him to voice it. “Baby, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He asked, and she sucked her teeth softly.

“What was I supposed to say? ‘You got killed in my dream’ or something? I...it was hard enough having the dream, Jermaine. It went exactly how it always went until the very end—I saw your face. You laid in my arms, you were bleeding,” Her voice began to quiver. “You looked at me, and you were in so much pain. And you called my name—and your tone was asking me why. I was afraid to tell you because you wouldn’t do anything but try to convince me it wasn’t true. But you possibly dying back in March is so much different from Rashaad—I wasn’t 12 when I saw you being manhandled by some officer,” She said. “I’m grown now, and if something had happened to you, it would have been a situation I know I could have stopped. The shit is on my conscience now,” She sniffed as she grabbed another tissue to wipe her face with.

“Beija, we all have those fears and those wishes that we could shield the ones we love from harm,” Hills had come to sit on the other side of Beija, rubbing the woman’s back slowly. “But you have to let that idea go. You cannot always be in control,” She explained, and J felt a strange sense of relation to what had been said. It seemed to be somewhat of how he operated through life; if he wanted something to happen, it had to be on his terms.

“When I stop being in control is when things begin to fall apart. Nobody else should be able to alter my fate but God,” Beija argued. “No one should be able to take what I feel is mine...” She trailed off.

“That’s true. People shouldn’t be able to interfere with what one may feel God set for us. But that’s the tricky thing about humans—you can’t control them. You can’t make them do or not do anything. And sadly, there are people in this world who will do harm to you and the world around you. You can be doing everything right, and people will still attempt to destroy you,” Hills began to explain. “I think that’s what you and Jermaine have in common. You both have things about your family lives that has given you this need for control—not to take advantage, but to protect. You both want the best for those you love, and if you can keep it in your control you feel responsible,” She added.

“But we can’t be responsible for that, can we?” J finally spoke up.

“You can’t. Not if you want to be healthy in the mind,” Hills said before glancing over at Beija. “Do you fear that you’ll lose Jermaine in the same manner as Rashaad?” She asked.

“I fear that I’ll lose him in general. I don’t deal with relationships like ours for a reason. It’s not just the need to focus, it is the fear of loss. No matter what J’s background is, or how successful or educated he is—white people see a nigga. They see a black man, and that shit scares them. Their fear fuels a need to eliminate. That fucking scares me,” B admitted. “And I am realizing more and more that I am not in control of what happens when he walks out of my apartment or his own. When he’s out in the world, he belongs to them. And what they do with him out of adoration or fear is at their discretion and control.”

“I feel that Jermaine feels the same about you,” Hills looked at J, who seemed to be unable to make eye contact with either woman. “Am I assuming correctly?”

“Yes. Just not in the same sense,” He mumbled. “I’ve already told her I’m afraid of her getting into so deep of a depression that she thinks about suicide, let alone trying the shit. But now that I sit here and think about it, her being a black woman is also a worry. Even guys who are black and grow up in black culture still seem to hate black women. She has little protection and she has so much more to lose than me,” He clenched his fist slowly and released it, repeating the motion out of his own need for comfort. “So I keep her close, and it’s easy to since we work in the same label and field. If I keep my eyes on her then nothing can happen that I can’t stop from happening,” He finished.

“You both have this need to protect one another—and you have a distrust in the world around you. That is something we need to encounter and defeat together. Your distrust in the world can quickly translate in a distrust of each other’s strength and it can serve to hurt your relationship. So let’s work on that next week,” She said as she stood up.

After the couple bid farewell to Dr. Hills, they headed to the front of her office to pay what they needed to for the session. Before long, the two were headed back to Beija’s side of town. The car ride was long due to traffic, but eerily quiet—it always seemed to be that way after a therapy session, but J couldn’t help but to constantly think about some of the things he was beginning to learn. Did he really feel so inclined to control the situation with he and Beija? It made him question himself and try to figure out what things he needed to change and work on so that the fear of him losing her didn’t overshadow what was supposed to be beautiful about them. He refused to move by fear any longer, and it shamed him to know it was so deeply embedded within.

He glanced over and saw Beija sleeping in her seat, her head leaned against the window as her soft breathing became more noticible now that Jermaine was paying attention. He reached over and ran a hand over her hair gently, looking back at the road before making his way towards her apartment building.

He parked his car and once he woke B up from her sleep, they headed into her building and up towards her floor. Once they approached her apartment door, he watched as she unlocked the door and headed inside behind her. He closed and locked the door behind them before he followed her, sitting down on the couch as she disappeared into the bedroom. Some moments later she returned more leisurely dressed, and laid slowly across his lap.

“You okay, B?” He asked as he ran his hand up and down her back. “You’ve been so quiet,” He noted, just hoping she would say something to calm his jittery nerves.

“Yeah. I’m okay,” She responded as she glanced back at him briefly. “Today was just a lot, as usual. But I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the dream. I just got so shaken up thinking about it that I kind of just...repressed it. I hate thinking about shit like that,” She explained.

“It’s cool. I get why you didn’t, but I really need to know. You can’t just be suffering alone,” He yawned as he watched her reach for the remote, turning on the tv. “But go ahead and relax, I know today was heavy,” He said.

“Fuck yeah it was. I hate even thinking about that day,” She said, and he watched her closely as he continued to rub her back. “You really surprised me, though. I didn’t know you felt that way,” She spoke of his earlier confessions at therapy, and he leaned back against the couch.

“Yeah. I like to know that things will be right with you. Can’t really wrap my mind around the fact that I can’t always protect you,” He chuckled dryly before letting out a sigh. “But I guess I gotta chill on that—I want you to know that I do trust that you can do things yourself,” He said.

“Honestly? I know you know that. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be together,” B chuckled softly. “I’m not looking to be nobody’s damsel, so if I thought you felt that I was less than sufficient then there would have been no way we’d work,” She shifted a bit to get comfortable against him.

“I feel that. I don’t want no helpless girl either so hey, I guess that worked out for the both of us,” He gently patted his hand against her behind, hearing her laugh softly. “So is that why you wanted me to come down for the 4th in Houston?” He asked curiously.

“Why—because of my brother? That’s part of it, yeah,” She admitted, and he nodded as he leaned back against the couch. “But I actually want you to meet my folks, duh. They’ve been asking about you for the longest,” She said.

“Word? That don’t make me nervous,” He chuckled softly. J had been thinking about meeting her family ever since she brought it up, and he could only hope that her family would like him.

“Why?” She playfully whined before she rolled over onto her back, keeping her head nestled in his lap. “I mean, my dad might be a little bit hard on you but what can you expect? I’m the only daughter he got, and for some reason niggas act crazy as fuck for their daughters,” She chuckled.

“That’s because at one point we was running game on a lady, just saying,” J shook his head as she began to laugh. “If I have a daughter I know I’mma lose my damn mind,” He said.

“Oh, Hell. And most likely I’m gonna fight you. Don’t be giving my little girl a hard time,” B argued, and he grinned as she pointed at him, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not playing, Lamarr! We gotta make sure she’s raised right, and I don’t mean just chastising her,” She explained.

“You right, you right. But it won’t be her I won’t trust, it’s these niggas. Fuck, what if we had a son instead? That’s...harder to me,” He paused as he gave it a moment of thought. “Yeah! It’d be harder.”

“Mhm. But either way we’ll be fine. Because thankfully our babies will have parents that have some common sense. And if daddy wants to act up, mama will pop him in his swollen ass head,” B said, and he rolled his eyes.

A thought crossed his mind before he smiled gently. “Hm...so I’m daddy now?” He asked, and she sucked her teeth before reaching up to mush his head.

The two laughed before Beija shook her head slowly. “Nigga, you gotta earn that. Don’t play!” She giggled before she rested back against him.

[ghostofasecretary]

hooo boy, this week. it would be good to record things that happened this week, because Feelings are happening about said things

Sunday:

attempted to plan things with the Rat Bastard. that failed

applied to Wellesley

really, really, really did not do my ADLs

watched ASoUE

decided that, instead of homework, i should…hang up pictures? spent four hours hanging up pictures with help of parental unit

and then i had a bunch of new stuff on my wall

Monday:

no school! everybody panic! breaks are terrible and no one should have one!

finished ASoUE

plans with people. talking to people. people are good

GOT OBSESSIVELY LOCKED INTO CLEANING

like. usually i am able to focus on stuff for a while and then stop, but here? no. i moved everything in my room. i went through a substantial amount of papers of me, being a dork from 7th grade til last year, and felt extremely awful about all of them

i hate throwing stuff out! it is very good to do so, but also, ugh

moved and collapsed a bunch of stuff

got freaked out by how empty and new my room is

hung up new art

got extremely pissed at the movie “V for Vendetta,” because THAT IS NOT OKAY TO DO TO PEOPLE, HOW THE FUCK, WHAT KIND OF ABUSIVE SHIT SHOW, i don’t really have flashbacks but if i did, uh. yeah.

made some rice

had a panic attack in the shower, as one does

just felt really really terrible for mostly indiscernible reasons, which probably round to “breaks: they aren’t good”

felt okay by the time i went to bed, though

Tuesday:

fuck tuesday

did my homework in the morning because brains, what are brains

hey the principal needs to talk to you and your mom! for reasons! apparently!

HEY GUYS MANDATORY SURPRISED UNSCHEDULED SENIOR MEETING RIGHT WHEN YOU ARE SCHEDULED TO LEAVE WITH YOUR FRIEND

OOPS NOPE NOW THAT IS CANCELLED

then i got to see Joe, which was lovely

we went to the best coffee shop and hung out, and bullied each other into making lists, and we talked about our vastly different suicidal feelings and how i just sort of - process my suicidal intent as background noise, not really anything, like pain, like habit - don’t feel suicidal in the same way i don’t feel like a redhead, and i showed him all of rusalkii’s “the paint pettiness” tag because it is fantastic, and so that was delightful

then we went to an art studio so he could work on photos

i derped around and read poetry and walked out on the freaking awesome porch and admired pretty spiderwebs and sunlight

and then settled in to read for anatomy

and then Joe came in and did stuff in the computer lab, which was nice

AND THEN

hahahahahahhahhahah

a girl! blue eyes, blond hair, tan skin! name of “Maddy!” came in! to sit next to me!

like, i have a couple of things that basically always trigger me and they are all pretty unfortunate. like, being complimented by authority figures, especially in private, makes me want to die. certain bible verses. people making animal noises. churches, as a general rule. but the number one thing which upsets me is people who remind me of Maddy

like, fictional characters named some variation of “Madison”? yeah. can’t read Worm because there’s a short blond blue eyed bully with that name

people with a certain facial structure, even, if i’m having a Bad Time

which! guess what! the past couple of months! i have been having a Bad Time! for a while i could not go to coffee shops without screaming because tall black haired people had snub noses, okay, it has not been a fun season for the Traumz

and, to top it all off, i don’t actually remember her face or how she spells her name! i don’t! i just remember how her full name sounded/really accurate animal sounds/wanted to be a surgeon/blue eyes/snub nose/ambivalent coloring/blond bob, stacked, she didn’t use conditioner and then she did???/had duck pajamas at one point/SUPER AWFUL THINGS SHE DID AND SAID TO ME AND THEN THE THINGS I DID AND SAID FOR HER, hahahhhahaaahah!

so. had a really long and quiet panic attack

frantically texted Joe to ask if he knew her last name, which he did not

it was so horribly triggering, mother of g-d

then she left

and i cuddled Joe a bit, and he was v calming and good, and we talked about random shit and his photos and The Future, and i read him the english major articles and stuff, and overall it was quite distracting

and she came back, and then we left, and we had a brief interaction but it was...fine

and we went down in the elevator

her sign in didn’t include a last name

we walked to the car, and drove further in, and walked til we got to the gelato place in the deco building

the ice cream barista was v v v cute and relatively interesting and recommended pen&ink for tattoos

i really enjoy Joe, he is a good bean and a good friend and Quality

we walked back

i shouted “you go, running man” at a dude who was running very quickly, which was an Incredibly Impulsive decision and then something i felt shitty about, but it was also kinda funny

and people kinda were screaming as we neared the car, so that was weird

i wouldn’t have gone out unless i were with Joe

but it was nice

and i kinda. felt shitty and lived with it, and didn’t think about stuff, and we talked about How To Comfort Ghost When They Are Dead - Joe has improved a lot and it’s nice to have these discussions - and i helped plan for Joe, and he tried to reciprocate, because trying to help other people is really hard to do well, and i really really love my friends and i love Joe and i love feeling comfortable and safe and alive around people. it was good

and i was home by 8

and my sister had moved to my bathroom? which doesn’t sound like a big deal, but also. ugh. i moved downstairs, despite it requiring a lot of leg movement for me, because she is so exhaustingly untidy. i had to force her to clean up, which was unpleasant

and i think this is when i learned about the subject of the mystery meeting? mr. Post decided i could not fully join the alum association because i am not a christian, even though he had earlier said i could! and i was never less than honest about who and what i am! and so either i could do something half baked or i could do nothing. so. wasn’t that a lovely surprise to top off my day :/

and then i went upstairs and my room was empty and i was empty

got to sleep by 9:30, which was at least one good thing

Wednesday:

i was so tired and everything was 10x harder

by lists, this was the busiest day of the week. gotta love that.

got to school at 7:15, due to my mother’s job

did classes

ugh

N, another good bean, immediately got why i was so stressed and was super sympathetic and also asked if it was the Maddy, and i hadn’t thought of that, and i don’t know, i don’t know, i hate my brain doing this to me

we had a super passive aggressive and rather inefficient senior meeting led by the principal, which exposed School Drama

and a disturbing view of how classes work, but that is another topic

i asked good questions and it was incredibly obvious that certain people were at fault and other people were acting decently and still others had no idea that this was happening and did not enjoy the guilt trip and scrupulosity triggers and, in fact, the knowledge of other people’s stupid high school bullshit

who doesn’t get their drama done in 5th grade and get super traumatized and decide to never do that again? honestly

AND THEN

(warnings for a lack of clarity in the next section, because rage)

ms. Cathey yelled at us for being “selfish”

and said we were “spoiling your reputation”

and more importantly, “spoiling my reputation. this reflects badly on me and my job.“

FUCK YOU

THAT IS NOT HOW YOU TREAT KIDS

THAT IS NOT HOW YOU LEAD PEOPLE

the only reason classes have a reputation is because you tell other classes about them

ALSO: PLEASE DO NOT INSINUATE THAT OTHER PEOPLE ARE BEHAVING SELFISHLY WHEN, IN FACT, THEY ARE ACTING LIKE PEOPLE AND YOU SEE YOURSELF AS A DIVINELY APPOINTED MEDDLER AND THUS THEIR PROBLEMS ARE A SELF CENTERED ATTACK ON YOU, AS A PERSON

you know the only person who was really, lastingly hurt by this? her aide, who spends 8 hours in her office and has her ear as no one else does and has noticeably become more like ms. Cathey in the last year

this is a fucking adult. a 30 year old woman. yelling at high school seniors about how they are selfish for attempting to solve their own, mostly self generated problems, without talking enough to the person you hear most from, who is probably being influenced by your own propensity for inefficient, ineffective, and frankly inaccurate communication

YOU ARE BAD AT YOUR JOB AND BAD TO PEOPLE AROUND YOU AND I WANT YOU TO BE FIRED, PLEASE STOP BEING AROUND PEOPLE WHO ARE EASILY HURT, PLEASE STOP BEING SO DUMB, JUST. Fucking stop.

(that’s not very kind, but at this point i am incredibly angry with her and my anger is justified, and so i will have to construct a positive case in defense of her, that’s good practice. once i graduate, though, i am asking for her to be fired)

no one came out of that meeting with anything resembling sanity

and then my meeting with the principal got cancelled

and i went to a coffee shop and hung out with The Coolest Dietz, which was pretty great

except i was, as noted, dead and full of rage and anxiety

but mostly it was awesome

and then i had philology club

and then i took a friend home

and then i took a bath

and then i figured out how to dress for prom

and then i had that kind of dissociation that’s so stark and unsubtle it can’t be anything but dissociation, where your hands aren’t your hands and your body isn’t your body and you aren’t alive, at all, really, you’re a floating falling non being in static space

and then i read someone’s trauma blog a bit

and then i talked to a person

and then i failed to do things, because exhaustion

and then i went to sleep really early

Thursday:

did not have homework done, which was unfortunate but could be fixed. also did not have headache medications.

why?

because who has the energy to remind people multiple times of your pressing need for medication

it was an understandable mistake, but also. ugh.

PAIN HAPPENED

skyped my principal while i had a migraine. that was…fun.

i don’t feel like detailing it but it went well, i guess, and we decided a thing, mostly

apparently i am “groundbreaking” or w/e

remember how compliments from authority figures in private make me want to die? yeaahh

laid in the dark while in pain for a while

got meds at 12

read about s t o y a, because why not

got increasingly horribly anxious about my freaking homework for Friday

talked to a person; said person attempted to help and had me do some ADLs, which was good

got an SD card, which was a surprise but a good one

still did not even begin to do things. SO. TIRED.

stayed up til 11, decided this was unproductive because i could not move

went to bed

Friday:

decided to go to school even though i had done nothing and was dead, because i have a fun Dr. V class on Fridays

read the German in a rush before school

went to class

went to break. oh! turns out! we’re streaming the whole inauguration! and today has no schedule! and Mr. Post’s secretary isn’t here, so we can’t ask her why!

i hate surprises

one of my two classmates is incredibly, incredibly pro-Trump

it’s so exhausting.

the other was absent

we read some stuff, it was good, the fact that i didn’t have my homework mattered less than expected

Dr. V did not actually call me and The Coolest Dietz, who decided to hang out in our classroom, quote man-hating dykes unquote, but holy shit, that was hilarious

and very inaccurate, in Dietz’s case. after he left Dr. V began talking about how he could “clean up nice” and “all the boys at our school must be blind,” which was even more hilarious

(also this saga was a bit awful, but there are things that you forgive in order to live in the world, so)

S U R P R I S E

YOU HAVE TO GIVE A SPEECH! 

SORRY THAT I, THE GREAT MS. CATHEY, DIDN’T TELL YOU THIS

ALSO I GAVE YOU BLATANT MISINFORMATION ABOUT THE BANNER, SORRY

WHO DOESN’T LOVE FUN SURPRISES

ALSO I WAS GONE ALL DAY BECAUSE I WAS GETTING MY HAIR DONE, LOL

called a college b/c application bullshit

prepared for Teh Prom

was at Teh Prom

it was exhausting and i was temporarily blinded due to masks

Surprise! the person who made last year’s third quarter miserable with her wedding showed up and hugged you from behind! gotta love it!

she wasn’t at my table, thank fucking god

sat next to M and K, and M wanted to talk about 3D printing and K wanted to write notes, and it was altogether pretty satisfactory

the food wasn’t great, but it existed, so that was good.

i waltzed with Joe’s little sister, the same K, which was pretty fun

wrote a lot of notes, always a delightful Teh Prom activity

i wrote a speech in the car on the way there

THAT WAS SO ANXIETY INDUCING

it was a Work for me and my co-banner-bullshit-committee-member to divide the speech into a nice, thematically appropriate thing, BUT WE DID IT

THANK GOD

and my jokes carried! and we played off of each other! i fucking love public speaking

and the NOA thing happened

it was surprisingly not awkward, if anxiety-inducing

and then it was over

and i went home

and i was home

and i slept

Saturday:

slept for 12 hours and woke up at 11

good talks in the morning

mostly was a person

felt bad

did laundry

took a bath

cleaned my room some more

went to a tea shop, which was nice

cleaned some stuff

read about how to resist Trump

goofed around on tumblr

drank a delicious oatmeal type mocha and had an extremely filling triple layer chocolate mousse

went home

ate a lot of food

kinda crashed

talked to people

realized HEY, i feel like an automaton or a cyborg and usually that means i am festering

wrote this thing! thanks again, rusalkii, you are a delight and an extremely helpful human

now: put up laundry

slep

i don’t know how i feel, still, but i now understand the magnitude of shitty stuff which has happened. the thing on Tuesday has made everything 10x harder, even though i was able to ground and be comforted and think the past was post, it still sucked a lot. and there were other triggering things this week! there was a frankly ridiculous amount of pain and also walking!

surprises kill me so much and so thoroughly and i never remember this.

next week will probably be hard. i might not feel it. i first thought i wouldn’t react for a while, but i seem to be reacting a bit. maybe something will pop up later and maybe it won’t, who knows. it’s okay that things suck.

a few quotes: not the spring dawn: i strained, i suffered, i was delivered. this isn’t the present. nature isn’t like us, doesn’t have a warehouse of memory.

lucky nature.

(not everything has to bloom. that’s how gardens work: you plant seeds, you wait. something imperfect grows, still, maybe.)

[flauntpage]

Your Wednesday Morning Roundup

The Flyers went down three goals early, then scored five straight, just to give up three more goals in the third period to lose 6-5. How freaking lovely.

At least Nolan Patrick scored his first goal of his NHL career! But it doesn’t cancel out a stinging loss like this.

Anthony will have a recap of this game later this morning. It’s the fourth of the season, and Flyers Twitter has already reached the point of ending their existence on Earth because the Flyers blew a lead. Also, Dave Hakstol appears to not be a popular guy amongst the Flyers fan base.

The Roundup:

Check out the latest Crossing Broadcast, which discusses the Flyers loss, along with a handful of other topics.

—

The Sixers made it official Tuesday, keeping Joel Embiid until 2023.

Extending Embiid was definitely worth it, as Kevin Kinkead explains:

The process wasn’t created to get the Sixers into the playoffs, it was created to compile the assets necessary to compete for a championship.

Not extending Embiid would’ve been the most risk-averse decision an NBA team could’ve made. Where else are you putting that money? Are you overpaying for Tim Mozgov or Al Horford? There’s risk in chasing high-priced mercenaries, too. Everything comes with some degree of uncertainty.

But a healthy Embiid gets you closer to a championship, and if you’re not winning it all, you’re not winning shit. The 10-72 Sixers won the same amount of trophies as the 48-34 Hawks a few years back. Philadelphians who have experienced one championship parade since 1983 should be able to appreciate that.

His contract may be good for the Sixers as well:

For the Sixers to curb the ultimate value of the extension, it would take the triggering of several severe circumstances detailed in a 35-page-plus contract. Embiid’s unique career trajectory — missing his first two NBA seasons with successive foot surgeries and playing only 31 games in the 2016-17 season — created a pathway for Philadelphia general manager Bryan Colangelo; Embiid’s agent, Leon Rose of CAA Sports; and the National Basketball Players Association to work together on creating a complicated and creative contractual agreement. The dramatic impact of Embiid’s brief but dominant debut season left him as the only rookie since Wilt Chamberlain to average at least 28.7 points per 36 minutes played.

Here’s how a perfect storm of calamity would have to unfold for Embiid to earn any less than the full $146.5 million: Across each of the final four seasons of the extension, ending with the 2022-23 season, the 76ers could waive Embiid for a financial benefit if he’s lost because of a contractually agreed-upon injury that causes him to miss 25 or more regular-season games and if he plays less than 1,650 minutes, league sources said.

Specific injuries are laid out in the contract and include only past problem areas with Embiid’s feet and back, sources said. Embiid has to miss 25 or more regular-season games because of injuries in those areas, and play less than 1,650 minutes, for Philadelphia to have the option of releasing him for cost savings.

Kinkead also has a recap of Monday night’s loss to the Celtics.

So he’s signed, Ben Simmons looks great (for the most part), and…wait for it…a Sixers top draft pick is hurt! This time, it’s Markelle Fultz and his shoulder.

Fultz is listed as doubtful for tonight’s game against the Brooklyn Nets at Nassau Coliseum. Embiid is probable. Game tips off at 7:30 and is broadcast live on 97.5 The Fanatic.

—

The Eagles continue to get ready for Carolina tomorrow night. Lane Johnson will probably be out for the game with a concussion, leaving Halapoulivaati Vaitai at right tackle. Meanwhile, Fletcher Cox is still uncertain if he will play tomorrow night. He’ll decide on his game status later today:

Cox didn’t issue any declarations about playing on Thursday. Given that he just started practicing again after a two-week absence, and that the Eagles don’t play again after this until Monday, Oct. 23 against Washington, one would guess Cox and the medical staff would have to really be convinced he is 100 percent before letting him make the trip.

Cox wouldn’t say if he expected to fly with the Eagles to Charlotte Wednesday.

“It felt good out there today, just to get out to practice and move around a little bit. I haven’t been on the field in a couple of weeks,” he said. “I’m not a doctor, I’m not a trainer. Those guys have been doing a really good job of treating the injury and trying to get me ready to play a game.”

To prepare for Cam Newton, the Eagles used one of their practice squad wide receivers to mimic the dual-threat quarterback.

Sean has his Three and Out post, which includes the offense beginning to find their identity.

Doug Pederson has been making strides as a head coach in Year 2.

In a small roster move, the Eagles brought back defensive end Alex McCalister to their practice squad.

Skip Bayless: Still an idiot. Are you surprised?

Get a glimpse of what the media is saying about the Birds.

—

Besides the loss last night, the Flyers hired their new in-arena host. She likes EDM, and so do I. Good fit.

—

Villanova head coach Jay Wright is receiving this year’s John R. Wooden “Legends of Coaching” award.

Protesters rallied on Temple’s campus against the university’s plan for a proposed stadium on their campus.

—

In other sports news, the US soccer team embarrassed themselves and the entire country, losing to Trinidad and Tobago 2-1. They won’t be in the FIFA World Cup for the first time since 1986. ESPN’s Taylor Twellman went off and tore a new one on the entire United States Soccer Federation. As he should:

Here's the full Taylor Twellman rant: http://pic.twitter.com/3YOAQrTKmY

— Max Wildstein (@MaxWildstein) October 11, 2017

Panama won thanks to this phantom goal to help kick the USA out of World Cup contention:

Esa bola nunca entró ¡Árbitro vulgar! http://pic.twitter.com/9xyrrZIzWt

— TDMás (@tdmas_cr) October 11, 2017

I’ll chip in my two cents being a moderate soccer fan and follower of the game. My dad is a huge soccer fan and was heavily involved with my township’s soccer program when I was a kid. This sucks. I’ve always been excited to watch the World Cup and watch guys like Landon Donovan and Clint Dempsey go out and play against some of the world’s best. When I was a camp counselor after my senior year of high school, we ended early to watch the second half of the Germany-USA game. They lost, but ended up advancing to the knockout stage.

Development in the United States is still fractured. Blame this on Klinsmann, blame this on Bruce Arena, blame this on the players looking like absolute crap last night. But you also have to blame the system. US Soccer needs to get their act together. As Twellman mentioned, they need to get a plan together with MLS, USL, the NCAA even, and their youth development programs to create one system to help the sport grow nationally for international play.

We’re the best at American football, literally because we’re the only nation that has a full-time league (Canadian football is different). When we won bronze at the ’04 Summer Olympics in basketball, there was outrage over that and a overhaul. Doesn’t this country want to be the best in everything, with the attitude of “gold or nothing”? Why is this not there in soccer? The entire world plays this sport, and we can’t beat a small island team?

I hope this creates change for the better for the sport in this country.

Elsewhere, NFL commissioner Roger Goodell sent a memo out to all 32 teams discussing the national anthem protests:

Like many of our fans, we believe that everyone should stand for the National Anthem. It is an important moment in our game. We want to honor our flag and our country, and our fans expect that of us. We also care deeply about our players and respect their opinions and concerns about critical social issues. The controversy over the Anthem is a barrier to having honest conversations and making real progress on the underlying issues. We need to move past this controversy, and we want to do that together with our players.

The Vegas Golden Knights held their home opener, which began with a moving tribute to the city after the victims of last week’s shooting.

Four games for 81 yards. That was Adrian Peterson’s career with the New Orleans Saints. He was traded to the Arizona Cardinals for a conditional draft pick.

A Florida man went to the hospital Sunday night after burning a Dallas Cowboys jersey:

At the hospital, deputies spoke with a couple who admitted they were watching the NFL game and agreed to burn the losing team’s jersey. However, the man decided to wear the jersey as it was burning.

A witness told Sebastian Daily, “He was set on fire after losing a bet on the Cowboys game … Skin was hanging off his arm and back.”

A labor union has filed a complaint against the Cowboys. They believe owner Jerry Jones was violating the National Labor Relations Act.

Philip thinks ESPN should have handled the Jemele Hill situation differently.

—

In the news, Eminem had some words to say about President Donald Trump:

The FULL verse that EVERYBODY is talking about! @eminem BODIED THIS! #HipHopAwards http://pic.twitter.com/zoS0wEwjQF

— BET (@BET) October 11, 2017

Drexel University placed one of their professors on administrative leave after tweeting his thoughts about the Las Vegas massacre.

North Korea hackers allegedly stole war plans from South Korea and the United States.

Britt McHenry and Joe Banner got into a Twitter war. Both had some good jabs about each other in there.

Your Wednesday Morning Roundup published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv

[iblackgirlanonymousblog]

                                                         PRIDE

The fight for LGBT rights has been long and arduous here in the United States and abroad. Here in the United States, June is celebrated as Pride Month. The tipping point for the fight for gay rights were the Stonewall Riots in New York City. The police raided the Stonewall Inn, a gay night club in the city, that sparked a violent clash between the patrons, police and those in the community. Yet, many years after Stonewall, Pride month would be marred with a tragedy. Pulse Nightclub in Orlando Florida, where music was blaring, patrons singing, dancing, drinking and enjoying a night with friends. No one could have predicted what would happen next. A gunman opened fire and took forty-nine lives. This would mark the deadliest mass shooting in U.S. history.

I grew up Southern Baptist in the south. I never understood why it was such a problem for people who identified as LGBT to be accepted. The preacher I grew up with never preached against it. This does not mean I never heard a slur against them. As a little girl, they always made me wince. When I moved away to a smaller city I encountered people in the church who spoke ill against the LGBT community. I went from not only wincing at the utterance of slurs but at the people who spoke ill of those who were part of the LGBT community. There wasn’t really any social media when I was young. There was dial-up internet and the most we had was Xanga (I’m aging myself), MySpace and Black Planet. There was really no way (at least where I lived) to learn how to be supportive of someone who was working through the coming out process. You literally just needed to not be a shit person. During high school a classmate of mine came out to his parents and they kicked him out of the house. That moment changed me. I was friendly with this classmate and I remember how frazzled he looked. This young man was vivacious and fun and when he showed up to school that day, clothes askew and he clearly hadn’t slept, I vowed to myself that I would never be silent again.

When I was twenty-one, I walked out of the church I had been attending since before I started undergrad. The preacher had been slowly but surely pushing my buttons. A few days after the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA) had been ruled unconstitutional I attended Sunday morning service. I remember being so excited by the DOMA decision. The country was starting to move forward regarding LGBT rights. Opening the door for the future decision in Obergefell v Hodges. There I am sitting in the same pew I sit in every Sunday. The preacher began his sermon and makes the statement that the world is troubled because of the DOMA decision. I tensed up. He then began to rail against gay marriage. Here is where he made a mistake. In the middle of this sermon he states something to the effect of, “If anyone has a problem with what I’m saying they can leave.”

That was all I needed.

I picked up my bright white sweater, my purse, and walked out in front of the whole church. I didn’t even put the obligatory finger up when walking out. My whole body was on fire. I felt like my chest was going to burst. This church had a great deal of college students who attended it. There were students in there who are part of the LGBT community. How could he stand in that pulpit and preach those words? Years later I attempted to go back to that church. I guess there was a small part of me that thought since the world had changed so would he. I was wrong. I haven’t set foot in that church or any church since then. Fast forward back to the night of the Pulse Nightclub shooting. I sat in my house, glued to Twitter and the news, and I wept.

Hate like that doesn’t happen overnight. It’s taught in churches, in homes and in American culture.  When we see a person, who is part of the LGBT community on television they are the fun friend, the loud friend, the flamboyant person. They are a prop and not seen as a real person. Make them a person of color and it’s all downhill from there. Pulse happened many years after Stonewall. Yet the fight that was fought then, is still being fought today. The fight to be equal. The fight to be seen as human. Forty-nine people lost their lives because that gunman believed in the hate he was taught.  I like to believe that there is more good in this world than evil. It may not seem like it now, goodness knows the world is stressful. However, hate won’t win. Love will always rise to the top. In the words of Harvey Milk, “Hope will never be silent.” If you would like to learn more and/or donate to the onePULSE Foundation, click the hyperlink for more information.

Post by,

S.A.

[downinfront]

Nobody won at the Oscars

Not the viewers at home, who, between the red-carpet coverage and the show itself, were subjected to at least five and a half hours of Oscar-related coverage, a slog by any measure.

Certainly not the embattled, crowd-pleasing musical La La Land, which took home a handful of technical awards, Best Song (for the earworm “City of Stars”) and two biggies (Best Actress for Emma Stone and Best Director for Damien Chazelle) before seemingly winning Best Picture ... at least until it became apparent that Moonlight was the real winner, and presenters Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway had been given the honest-to-Christ wrong envelope. This became apparent, by the way, in the middle of the goddamn acceptance speeches from the La La Land crew, who were forced to hand over their trophies, literally mid-sentence, to the producers of Moonlight.

Not Moonlight, either, by the way. The night’s ostensible victor is something rarely seen in movies today: An immaculately-made, three-act coming of age drama about a gay black man that directly tackles issues of race, addiction, poverty and sexuality. A Best Picture win should have completed an improbable journey poised to make a significant impact within the industry. Instead, its moment comes at the expense of some well-dressed dorks who were in the middle of thanking the people who enabled them to chase their dreams. (To their credit, they forked over the hardware like professionals and got the hell off the stage.) Even Mashershala Ali, the beloved Moonlight breakout who won Best Supporting Actor in the night’s first presentation, admitted to the Hollywood Reporter that the whole thing kind of bummed him out.

Not the Academy, whose sausage-making process was put on painful display in real time for all the world to see. It’s always taken as a given that someone has to lose at an awards show, but dangling the carrot in front of a group of affable, hard-working people only to snatch it away was a bracing glimpse at the cruelty behind the curtain.

Not Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway, a pair of goddamn living legends who used Occam’s Razor (his envelope read “Emma Stone - La La Land,” she assumed it meant “La La Land” and went for it) and left Beatty to come across as a doddering old man attempting to sputter out a justification for why the La La Land crew had totally gotten hosed.

Not host Jimmy Kimmel, who began the show with some surprisingly barbed ribbing of everyone in attendance (cut to Mel Gibson with murder in his eyes), only to steer the proceedings headlong into a way-too-long bit involving tourists in a bus and yet another installment of his endless blood feud with Matt Damon. Kimmel put on a brave face for the Best Picture fiasco, but it was clear there was nothing he could do to save it; he was conducting a train that had already run off the rails and into the ravine.

Not Matt Damon, by the way, who may have taken more hits than anyone during the night. Admittedly, Kimmel hijacking the orchestra to play Damon off during his presentation speech was funny, but the extended skewering of Damon’s work in We Bought a Zoo came off as too mean-spirited, especially when Damon sheepishly countered into the microphone that he was actually proud of that performance.

Not the arbiters of good taste, who must now choke out the phrase “Academy Award-winner Suicide Squad” when referring to that infamous film. (It won Best Makeup, a distinction that’s hard to dispute on merit, but still.)

Not the poor bastards who handed the wrong envelope to Beatty and Dunaway (apparently, two envelopes are created for each side of the stage, depending on where the presenters enter from). They’ll be buried under the Hollywood Bowl before the week is out.

Not Casey Affleck, who won Best Actor for Manchester By the Sea, thus emerging whole from a storm of controversy over years-old, previously-settled sexual harassment allegations that resurfaced late last year, both threatening to derail his campaign and serving as a favorite argument among the Twitter crowd for why Denzel Washington should win the Oscar instead. Judging by the early reactions to Affleck’s victory, that sentiment hasn’t faded. Despite having ridden the performance of his career to defeat industry legends, beloved veterans and promising young talent, Affleck’s win, and his reputation, now has a big ol’ asterisk attached to it. (This is to say nothing of course of his alleged victims, who certainly lost by having to watch him win.)

Not Viola Davis, who won Best Supporting Actress in a walk for Fences despite willfully subjecting herself to category fraud (hers is a lead performance in every sense of the word) so she could face the likes of Nicole Kidman, Octavia Spencer and Naomie Harris instead of Best Actress’ formidable three-headed dragon: Early frontrunner Natalie Portman (Jackie), late-breaking dark horse Isabelle Huppert (Elle) or eventual winner Stone.

Not Film Twitter, which mutated La La Land vs. Moonlight into White People vs. Everyone Else early on in the awards season and took that already-flimsy comparison to its limit, rapidly revealing itself as the very worst kind of Twitter during the broadcast. The narrative seemed to be that the times were too fraught for a frothy throwback to win Best Picture over a gay coming-of-age story, so each win for La La Land was treated as nothing less than a setback for social justice on a national scale, to to the point where everyone took up arms over the fact that a fucking musical won Best Original Score over Moonlight’s atmospheric backing track.

Not Samuel L. Jackson, who revealed on the record that he bailed on La La Land after 20 minutes, and ultimately had to give a visibly disgruntled presentation of that same Best Original Score award.

Not white people, at least according to the aforementioned Twitterati, for whom Moonlight’s victory is liberal America’s long-awaited revenge for ... Donald Trump, I guess? Still not entirely clear on that one. It also remains to be seen exactly which white people took the L here. Certainly not the three credited producers who technically won the Best Picture award, all of whom are white. And not Daniel Katz, David Finkel and John Hodges, the three heads of Moonlight distributor A24, who now have a Best Picture winner to call their very own and will likely reap as much, if not more, of the benefits as Ali or director Barry Jenkins.

Not Hamilton mastermind Lin-Manuel Miranda, whose EGOT bid was denied after Moana’s “How Far I’ll Go” lost to “City of Stars” in the Song category. (Auli’i Cravalho, who plays Moana and sang the song, was one of the night’s few winners for her seamless, mid-note recovery from being whacked in the face with a flag.)

Not the United States of America, who tuned into the broadcast Sunday night to see some good-natured back-patting by Hollywood types, and maybe a little recognition for the movies they shilled money out for and responded to, and that’s it. Instead, they somehow got roped into yet another rehash of Donald Trump vs. Hillary Clinton after the Super Bowl and the Grammys, and it was just as exhausting as it was the first three times around. The ass-backwards way it ended wasn’t any better. Even if the supposed champion of White America lost for once, you were still subjected to the Hillary effect, watching a bunch of people who followed a dream and did their very best only to have defeat snatched from the jaws of victory; they only made it to the stage to hand over the glory and shove their heartbreak down their throats where they hoped nobody would see.

And finally, not the people who thought the outcome of the show would somehow lead to a seismic change overnight. Tomorrow, Donald Trump will still be President. Asghar Farhadi, the Iranian director of Best Foreign Language Film winner The Salesman, still won’t come into the country while the specter of the travel ban lingers. The stupid wall will still be in its planning stages, despite the elegant civil disobedience of presenter Gael García Bernal. Cultural events can galvanize change, but a quote-unquote black movie winning the Academy Award is not gonna speed up what is clearly becoming a long, fraught process. The damndest part of it is, in six months, nobody will remember who won the Best Picture Oscar, but in a dazzling display of irony, they will always remember the movie that lost it.

Shit, the only person who really won this thing was Donald Trump. At least he knew better than to watch in the first place.