#so for the time being i am happy to consider myself one quarter of the way thru ethubs herstory

[lorephobic]

according to my calculations i am finally one quarter of the way thru every* video with the potential for etho & bdubs interactions which is. crazy. there are so many videos.

[bainshiewrites]

[LF Friends, Will Travel] I have the most important job

I have the most important job.

My name is ALICE and I am the AI co captain of the U.S.S Hope. Well technically my identification is a 40 character long alphanumeric serial number, but that's not very easy for a none AI to say and it includes the letters ALICE, so ALICE it is, as I have decided.

My job as co-captain is to keep the 327 people aboard the "U.S.S Hope" safe, happy, and sound. My job is to keep the parents safe as they try their illogical hardest to kill themselves over some crazy idea. Parents might be the wrong technical term: a person's father or mother. If I was being accurate to the biological analogy, my parents would be a lava lamp and a 30 second fluctuation of atmospheric noise found on Earth, but neither of those have taught me quite so much about the world or about myself as humans have. So I consider humans my parents. Besides, the lava lamp never paid child support.

I have the most important job.

I spend my time cycling through the various tasks I'm in charge of: maintenance and monitoring to make sure that everything on the U.S.S Hope ran perfectly. I spend my time making minor changes to the systems, tweaking a power flow there, updating a value here. No major issues have appeared since I ran these protocols 300 seconds ago and I logically know the vast majority of my changes are superfluous; but changing something, anything, provides a strange calm. Technically the protocol before making any change is to confirm these with my co-captain, the human Andrew Hasham. However I have long since learned that most of my parents don't particularly care that I changed the room temperature in sector 5A72 from 21.2°C to 21.1°C in order maintain optimal comfort, that to constantly ask for such approval is "Annoying". Andrew is the human captain, an embodiment of humanities chaos and therefore suited for such matters. I am ALICE, the AI captain, an embodiment of machine logic and therefore suited for such matters. I believe such an arrangement works well.

I respect Andrew deeply. I could logically argue his competence to a 99.994% degree of certainty, the educational and service record doing most of the heavy lifting in such arguments. But the real reason for my admiration is far less binary. His quick thinking and calm friendly demeanor regardless of the situation. His ability to make every member of the crew feel worthwhile, myself included. The fact that he'll passionately make illogical arguments such as the placing of cold sweet acidic pineapple on savory hot pizza. His bravery and self sacrifice. Andrew's actions during the god plague had allowed thousands to get to stasis chambers in time, thousands who wouldn't be alive today without those actions. To save one of my parents makes you a hero, to save thousands makes you divine.

I have the most important job.

I sense music coming from one of the living quarters, shifting my attention to that part of the ship. A Claire Smith: Age 215, Degree in linguistics, current job title "Head of Xeno translation aboard the U.S.S Hope". The music seems to be from the instrument she brought with her, an oboe: A woodwind instrument with a double-reed mouthpiece, a slender tubular body, and holes stopped by keys. I spend 0.26 seconds contemplating the ethics of listening in. From a protocol standpoint, Claire has not engaged the privacy field, making my listening in perfectly fine. However based on previous usage of said field during times of performance, personality analysis, and general negative remarks about her own ability, I calculate with a 74.81% degree of certainty that this was a mistake. In the end I choose to "play dumb", enjoying the break from my ever watchful vigil of the ship.

She really is quite good, years of practice evident from the competent mastery of the instrument. There's something special about a human played instrument, something I have never been able to replicate. Being an AI I could summon a 200 piece orchestra and play each part perfectly as written, but to do so causes... something to be missing. The mistakes in every performance is what gives the music life: A note played 4 microseconds too early here, the volume 0.004 decibels too loud there. It really is something I've been unable to create, experiments surrounding creating random intervals of offsets and errors ended up sounding wrong, for a reason I'm unable to clarify. Out of everything that is what I missed the most while my parents were trapped in stasis: their music.

"Alice, can we get your opinion here?"

The interruption drags me away from Claire's music, making a note in my long term storage to praise the humble musician at a later date before shifting my consciousness to where I had been summoned. Four humans sat around a table in the common room, various alcoholic beverages in hand. Fernando Olson, Orlando Bass, Krista Romero and Ora Harvey. According to their personnel files all part of the engineering team and all having formed a friendship on attending the same university. The conversation between them was boisterous, analysis of their body language suggested moderate intoxication and they all seemed to be discussing Fernando in a light hearted teasing manner commonly found among close friends. I used the room's holographic projector to appear in front of them in my chosen avatar. I obviously didn't need to do this to communicate, but my parents all preferred to see what they were speaking to and it was my job to make them comfortable.

"Hello Krista. How can I assist you?"

The human who had called me turned to point at Fernando with a beer bottle filled hand, a large grin plastered across her face "You see Alice we were having a argument, and since you are a hyper intelligent being with a brain the size of country containing all of humanities knowledge, we must ask you oh great one: Fernando's new haircut, yay or nay?".

I made my avatar gesture as if it was thinking, waiting 8 seconds as if contemplating the question. Of course I already had compiled my response a mere 0.13 seconds after hearing the query. The haircut in question was objectively, mathematically and scientifically terrible. A strange flop of hair that was somehow both too short and too long all at the same time. In a way it was a representation of humanity in general, a chaotic enigma.

"Studies have shown that styles similar to the one worn by Fernando Olson increase sociability, resource gathering and mate finding." I pause for exactly 1.24 seconds, waiting the optimum time for my initial sentence to sink in before continuing "In particular positive results were seen amongst members of Mephitis mephitis, or the striped skunk."

Laughter erupted among the group, even Fernando the subject of mockery joined in. The general positive atmosphere of the room increased, body language amongst the four humans suggesting further enjoyment as the playful mocking continued. This in turn caused my own flurry of joy. This is why I was here, to keep the 327 people aboard the "U.S.S Hope" happy. Keep them comfortable. Keep them safe.

I have the most important job.

I leave the humans to their recreational activities, preferring to move my focus back to the ship in general and keeping tabs on everything happening inside. My parents went around doing nothing out of the ordinary. Iris Doyle was petting his dog while looking out into the stars. Phoebe Greer had just finished thanking the food dispenser, even though I have explained to everyone many times that it was just a machine. Hector Blake was... I disconnected the power to the panel the engineer was working on, calculating with a 97.1% probability that being electrocuted wasn't his plan. All standard human things. Or was it Terran things? I had never gotten why my parents changed their name as soon as they made it into space, but even after all these years there is still so much I don't understand about them. Like how while in space they will refuse to wear any uniform with a red shirt.

I hear two humans walking along one of the ships many hallways discussing our current journey. The mission of the U.S.S Hope was one I knew very well. The ship was a diplomatic envoy to our closest galactic neighbors, the adorable Hatil. While I and the other AI have had plenty of contact with Xeno lifeforms, this would be the first official diplomatic mission for the Terran Conclave, both human and AI together, as it always should have been.

The chatter among my parents was enthusiastic, excited. As a child all of them would have dreamed of meeting extra terrestrial life, and finally after much delay it-

ERROR: WARP FIELD COMPROMISED.

Alarms blared and the entire ship groaned as the U.S.S Hope was deposited unceremoniously into realspace. Confusion entered my programming as to what could cause such a thing. Normally such a warp field collapse is caused by two ships attempting to travel through the same space, but nobody should be here. This mystery would have to wait however, as sensors showed we were surrounded by over a hundred vessels. I noted that they were worryingly spread perfectly apart, preventing us from warping back out. That required my full attention instead.

I have the most important job.

"Alice, status report, what the hell just happened!"

I allow myself to appear on the bridge next to Andrew, the rest of the room empty since we weren't scheduled to arrive at our final location for at least another day.

"We were dropped out of warp, reason: insufficient data. Currently surrounded by 154 vessels matching Hatil design. Weapon positioning suggests military utility at a 94.2% probability, reduced to 74.97% when taking into account the vessels technological capabilities."

It was interesting seeing the Hatil vessels, the technological disparity was immense. They had little to no electronic shielding meaning I could see everything, and nothing impressed me. An average Terran civilian ship would outclass these things. I send out a hail to what seemed to be their lead ship.

"Do you think it might be a convoy?" Andrew asked as worry and concern covered the co captain's face. "A show of force to escort us?"

"Unknown. They are not responding to our request for communication, even though I can confirm they have received it. Reason for the Hatin actions: unknown."

This worries me. While our current vessel outmatches everything in front of us, quantity is a quality all of its own. If I was inhabiting any other military vessel nothing would worry me, but this was a diplomatic envoy: my parents had reasoned that turning up to the Hatil home world with enough weaponry to crack a planet might be taken the wrong way. I notice a surge of power from several of the Hatil ships, it taking me 0.76 seconds to realize what exactly was happening. I slam the thrusters hard as the U.S.S Hope lurches sideways, narrowly avoiding a barrage of rockets. Protocol dictated that I should have confirmed this decision with Andrew, but I decided that discussion of command structures would wait until everyone wasn't dead.

I have the most important job.

"What the hell! Alice, hail on all frequencies that this is a non-military excursion and get us the hell out of here!"

It was taking everything I had to keep the ship unharmed, calculations being done in the billions in order to find the safe path through the barrage of lasers and warheads. Their technology wasn't up to par, but all 154 ships were firing at once. I felt a shudder of error messages and warnings as a stray laser impacted the ship.

"Negative Andrew. All paths are blocked and no response to our communication. Warping out would intersect with a Hatil vessel, breaching the core."

Casualty reports were now flooding in as I continued to dip and dive. 9 dead, 17 injured from the first barrage. Dead included one William Blake, age 311. Geologist on the U.S.S Hope. Would always water the plants in the common room even after being told I could handle it. Would call me "Allie". Dead included one Mary -

I forcefully terminated that processing thread, pausing it for later. Right now I needed the extra CPU cycles. I needed to advise Andrew.

"This action from the Hatil seems to be premeditated to a 97.55% degree of certainty, suggested action is to attempt to punch through their bombardment in order to find a warp path. Requesting authorization to go weapons free."

This caused a moment of delay, the look of dismay on Andrew's face obvious. I knew exactly what he was thinking, as it was the same thing I was thinking. This wasn't how it was supposed to be, we were supposed to be reaching out to the stars for peace, for friendship. Not to start a war.

"Do it".

I have the most important job.

My first attack was devastating, a shot from a accelerated low yield railgun. The thing barely counted as a weapon, mostly used for any larger pieces of space debris, yet it tore a hole through the Hatil vessel, breaking apart almost immediately. I half wondered how such a vessel could be considered space worthy.

Not that this changed how bad things were. As I spun and dodged through thousands of missiles and lasers with millimeter precision, hit after hit kept slipping through: a Hull breach there, a disabled weapon here. There were just too many of them no matter how effective my small amount of ordnance was.

Adjust vector. Fire torpedo d2. Seal off sector 6f4. Adjust vector. Send medical aid to 6f5. Adjust vector. Calculate spin. Fire rail gun. Move power from torpedo a1. Seal off sector 6bb8. Fire suppression to 6bb9. Adjust vector. Fire torpedo c1. Adjust vector.

I was struggling to keep this going, no sign of an opening to calculate a warp path appearing in the Hatil attack. No matter the technological disadvantage, their tactics were rock solid. I was dismissing heat warnings by the hundreds, thinking was starting to hurt. The specification of the ship wasn't made for this level of processing, my CPU would be literally glowing red with heat at this point. But I couldn't stop, if I stopped calculating the ships path, if I stopped mitigating damage, if I stopped directing aid… more of my parents would die, and I couldn't let that happen.

I have the most important job.

"There! Focus your fire on the ship at heading 233, 54, then make a break for it!"

I focused on the ship in question. I couldn't see any special reason to focus my attention there, but Andrew's instincts had never been wrong before. I fired the railgun, the target breaking apart like all the others, before a secondary explosion emitted from the debris, causing the three closest Hatil ships to veer off out of control.

A wave of relief passed over me as I saw it: a gap. I can't logically conclude how Andrew knew that this ship in particular was carrying an extra load, but that doesn't matter. I just needed to rush through this break in the ambush, then warp out of here. We were basically home fr-

A major explosion rocked the U.S.S Hope, as a warhead slammed against the bow. Any other day I would have seen it coming and mitigated it. But right now I was running so far above acceptable heat levels that warnings had turned into actual faults. A creeping dread filled my programming as I realized power to the primary impulse drive was gone. There was a backup, like everything my parents built, but the speed was gone. I could no longer take advantage of Andrews instruction.

"Andrew, our main impulse drive is down, reducing our speed and maneuverability to 53%, our weapons capability is at 35%, and structural damage is starting to reach critical levels. My estimates suggest the ship will be structurally unstable in 10 minutes."

He knew what I was saying. Logically I was unable to foresee a strategy that had an even close to reasonable chance of success. I continued piloting the ship in its current crippled state, missiles and weaponry being flung by both sides through the void. Andrew paused while wracking his own brain for a solution, before pressing a button on his console a mere 3 minutes after the U.S.S Hope had been forced out of warp

"This is Andrew Hasham, your captain speaking. Abandon ship. I repeat, abandon ship."

I have the most important job.

I let Andrew focus on evacuating the crew while I focused on buying us as much time as possible. While my speed was far reduced the amount of weaponry being thrown at me was far smaller: during those short 3 minutes I'd managed to reduce the number of Hatil ships to under a hundred. My parents were also quite well drilled, and within a minute escape pods were ejecting from the ship and it wasn't long before Andrew was the only life form left on the U,S.S Hope: strapped into the last remaining escape pod, just waiting for me to transfer to the AI Transfer Core on all such vessels.

ERROR MOUNTING /dev/sdb1 TO /usr/alice/backup/transfer, UNABLE TO WRITE TO DISK. RETRY/IGNORE/CANCEL?

"Andrew, the connection to the AI transfer Core has been damaged on this pod. I'll find another way down."

I attempt to launch the pod with Andrew in it, only for nothing to happen. It took me 0.23 seconds to realize that my co captain was holding the manual override down.

"Alice, I'm not leaving without you, what are our options?"

I knew there weren't any. Gathering the tools required to fix the connection would take more time then we had and moving my programming to non specialized hardware is a good way to get a digital lobotomy. I considered arguing against this illogical action, I was perfectly fine on a broken ship, but I knew the human well enough to know he wouldn't budge. Damn Andrew being… Andrew.

Then I had an idea. A terrible idea. Something I should never do to my co captain. It took me a full 2 seconds to decide before implementing it. I decided to lie.

"I can transfer myself to the navigational computer. I won't be able to do anything during this time, so you'll have to launch and pilot the escape pod yourself. As soon as the lights stop flashing, go."

All a lie, but Andrew had no engineering experience and my statement seemed plausible enough. I reached into the controls and spent the next 9 seconds flashing random LEDs, making a few components whirr for good measure, before going silent.

For 4 seconds I did nothing, hoping the human would fall for my ruse, 4 long terrifying seconds, until I finally saw Andrew's escape pod shoot away from the ship. My name is ALICE, I am the co captain of the U.S.S Hope and for the first time in a while I was alone.

I have the most important job.

I gave myself a few seconds of satisfaction watching the hundreds of escape pods shoot away, each with their own life forms on it. Not as many as there should be, but I'll deal with that later. Next I turn off all unneeded systems, venting the atmosphere and feeling the relief of the cold vacuum of space wash over my CPU. I wasn't very worried. While trying to still escape with the main ship was plan A, there were plenty of undamaged AI transfer Core's connected to various locations. Those things were indestructible outside of getting hit by a supernova.

Worst case, I float around in space for a bit until someone picks me up. I knew Andrew would be furious once he realized what I had done, and I did hope he would forgive-

I track a salvo of missiles not aimed at me, a few nanoseconds of confusion leading to anger, horror and fear. They were aiming at the escape pod, at Andrew's escape pod! What kind of monster shoots at an unarmed vessel! I have no real options, no tricks, no magic plan. I take the only reasonable option and power the secondary impulse drive to full throttle and throw the U.S.S Hope into the line of fire, taking the brunt of the attack.

I feel everything go dead as the explosions rock along the ship. Impulse drives: Down. Weapon systems: Down. Life support: Down. The warp core was at least still running as those systems had the most redundancies built in. I was now ALICE, co captain of the universe's most expensive paper weight. Even worse, I could see more Hatil ships turning to track the other escape pods. There was nothing I could do. They were all going to die and there was nothing I could do. There was no-

I had a warp core. Maybe it was the heat damage on my CPU, but I got a stupid idea. A dumb idea. A distinctly human idea. Atoms really didn't like being in the same location of other atoms which is why warping into things was bad. Warp core breaching bad. Planet cracking levels of bad.

But such an explosion would give the Hatil fleet something else to worry about, something other than hunting down my parents.

I then calculated the chance of an AI Transfer Core surviving such a blast.

ZERO POINT ZERO ZERO ZERO ZERO ZERO ZERO ZERO ZER-

I stopped the probability analysis. It didn't matter, it wouldn't have any impact on my decision. I calculated the perfect location to warp into for maximum damage and least interference with the escape pods, bypassing the repeated errors about the stupidity of what I was about to do. I gave myself 9 long seconds, sorting through memories and experiences granted to me by the crazy illogical humans of Earth. Apes so lonely they used their chaos to trick a rock into thinking. I sadly realized I'd never get to compliment Claire playing ability.

I wish I could laugh right now as this really was quite humorous. A hairbrained scheme of illogical stupidity and self sacrifice. It's my job to stop humans from doing those. I think about the humans on the escape pods, their music, their silly requirement to thank inanimate objects. I wonder if my parents would be proud of me for coming up with such a human idea.

My name is ALICE and I am co captain of the U.S.S Hope, inputting my final command.

I have the most important job.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Undercover (part 2)

Part 1

Summary: She just wants him to leave her alone.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: im sooooo sorry for the amount of time you had to wait for this part, but i promise ill try to write faster 😉

(again, its been almost one and a half years since i read the books, so theres a possibility i write something thats not canon. so if you see it, no you dont 😉)

anyways, enjoy!

•○🌑○•

Shoving her clothes into her bag was not the best idea, considering it was only increasing the amount of work she'd have to do later on.

But it sure made her feel better, and who was going to stop her?

Dropping the lumpy backpack to the ground, Y/n stalked back over to the small cupboard she had been given, and ripped out the leggings, pants, shirts and anything within reach of Y/n's slender fingers.

A knock on the door drew Y/n's attention, and she scowled at the unmoving thing.

"What?" Y/n snapped, pushing her clothes into the poor bag.

Y/n was sure that were the bag a living being, it would have cursed Y/n to hell and back for the torture she put it through.

She was also sure living in hell would have been a better option than going on a mission with Kenji, that too as a last resort.

No one answered back to her angry inquiry.

Reigning in her groan of frustration, Y/n stomped to the door and nearly ripped it off its hinges as she opened it.

There stood Kenji, with his signature asshole smile on his ugly little face.

"Are you deaf?" Y/n hissed.

He had the audacity to blink at her, raising his eyebrows, like she was being unreasonable.

She probably was, but who cared about that?

"I think I should be the one to ask you that."

"What do you want?" Y/n sneered.

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorframe, his shit eating grin unwavering. "Just wanted to make sure you hadn't died of happiness that you were going to be working with me-"

The door slammed in his face before he could let more bullshit spew from his disgusting lips.

Y/n could hear his soft laugh through the wooden door, and she cursed Castle for the slow renovations.

Most of the Omega point had been upgraded, given metal and good quality doors through which sound was hard to pass unless people spoke through a microphone. But Y/n, as her luck would have it, had been assigned a small quarter in the part of Omega point that would be last to get upgrades.

It also did not pass Y/n's notice that the part Kenji lived in was the first to be renovated.

"Don't get too excited Y/n!" He yelled through the door, and Y/n whipped around, glaring holes into the worn wood.

"The only thing I'm excited about right now it killing myself."

"Nice one Y/n." Kenji laughed, loud and free.

Y/n said nothing, her anger dissipating at what she'd just revealed to him. Hoping that he would leave, she defeatedly walked back over to her backpack and dumped all its contents on her bed, settling down to fold them all neatly.

A moment of silence passed, and there were no sounds other than the soft rustle of the clothes on Y/n's lap.

Though a moment was all she got.

"You're joking, right?" Kenji called out.

Y/n ignored him.

"Y/n?"

"Go away Kishimoto."

Maybe he could hear the defeat in her voice, maybe it was the way she did not really scream, but he began knocking on the door frantically.

"Hey! Y/n!"

When Y/n did not acknowledge him, he suddenly began pounding on her door. "Y/n. Open up."

"Fuck off."

"Tell me it was a joke and I'll fuck right off."

"Leave me alone."

"Say it Y/n. Say that you-"

"I am not going to hang myself Kishimoto." Y/n yelled, frustrated, before mumbling to herself. "At least not today."

"Fine. I will leave, but remember, this conversation is far from over."

"If you don't leave right now, more than this conversation will be over."

A pause.

"And what's that?"

"Your life."

He laughed, and it slowly faded away like he was leaving, just as a small smile faded onto Y/n's face.

Asshole.

•○🌑○•

General Taglist: @cassie6392 @harrystylesfan2686 @eve175

Kenji Kishimoto Taglist: @kennedy-brooke @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter

[spitdrunken]

currently i'm really busy with writing for my thesis, which unfortunately leaves me with little creative juice... ive been engaging with other people's creations a lot more rather than writing for myself, but have some assorted thoughts on things ive enjoyed recently below, for anyone who is interested. feel free to send me asks about anything that's mentioned, but because of the above, might take me a bit to get back to u <3!

these aren't really x reader thoughts, just rambling! if you read this, thank u, i am giving you a kiss on your forehead/hug/fistbump/handshake/whatever words of affirmation you have been wanting to hear today. pick your favorite!

(Pokephilia mention) Pokémon Legends Z's announcement!! It'll be forever until it's released (which, as a true Pokémon fan, I'm very happy about BAHAHAH), but I'm so excited! Very curious how they are planning to implement, what seems to be, citybuilder elements... If Emmet shows up in this game, I'm going to be super delighted, but I honestly doubt it. Either way, it's made me think a bit more about the twins, and Poképhilia stuff in general as well! It's such a shame/pain the main tag is blocked... one day I will start and stick to my intention to write, like, porn about all the Pokémon, haha. A dream...

(cannibalism(????) monster eating??? mention. consensual!) Dungeon Meshi really was as much fun as everyone mentioned! Don't really see myself writing fic about it, except for a very specific idea I had... I like the thought of Laois 'obsessed with eating monsters' Touden got to meet a monster (AKA Reader) who is equally obsessed with the idea of being eaten!! Maybe a mermaid, or something like that? It's his one chance to eat a humanoid monster! Though the others probably won't believe him when they tell him that it was 100% consensual, and are judging him harshly LMAO

Welcome Home updated! Very happy about this. Though I don't connect them publically, I actually have written quite a bit of WH fic and my sfw sideblog for it used to have more followers than this one LMAOO. Maybe one day I'll write NSFW works for it, but I dunno if there's interest... Plus, I very much fall underneath people the creator would consider 'unwelcome' in their squeaky-clean fandom or whatever, but they have like a quarter million followers now, lol. Anyway, Wally is, as has been said many times before, the Most! He draws me in <3

And also, poor Eddie, lmao. It's very interesting to me, with the inclusion of the Narrator, that the characters seem to be forced to steer in a specific direction, if that makes sense? To upkeep a certain mask. I wonder if 'as above, so below' is a reference to that, in the sense that whatever is dictated by the stronger forces of narrative, is what shall occur 'below'-- In their world. Like, the animosity some of these puppets have for each other!!!!! Some of them are just straight up Not Friends, lmao.

I need to play more of it, but if anyone is reading this, go play I Was A Teenage Exocolonist. I expected it to be waaaay more popular, especially on Tumblr, but it's so underrated? The writing is wonderful, the characters are well-defined, and the art is breathtaking! Please take a look at the trigger warnings, cuz there are a few that are definitely applicable, but it's soooo good... If it has to be said, I romanced Dys first, lmao.

I am watching The Apothecary Diaries right now, just started today, and can I jsut say... I'm such a fan of all the women in this show!! I love the perspective it gives on court life a lot! Maomao definitely is pulling in all the men AND women, huh.... i appreciate that. Jinshi also 100% wants to get degraded by her, huh. Maomao is the sexywoman of this show.

[tryslora]

Nate vs. the Edits

I have a ton of posts partially written, and this particular one will probably touch on some of those themes. Particularly the concept of time (and how little of it there is in a week).

So. Apologies in advance for that. I have swiss cheese brain. I might not even remember if I’m repeating myself. Maybe y’all will forgive me, or maybe not. I figure readers are happy enough to click next/close and move on. <3

The topic I’m thinking about today is how editing and drafting can be inherently antagonistic.

It’s no secret that I owe multiple books right now. I have two that need to be drafted: the next in the Seven Lakes series, so my indie publishing life doesn’t fail before it gets off the ground, and the next Welcome to PHU book, otherwise known as Nate’s book, which uh… I should’ve started drafting two years ago.

It’s also no secret that I am working with Duck Prints Press to bring out paperback editions of the PHU books, starting with the Twinned trilogy. Commit to the Kick is already in print through DPP, and the second and third books are in progress. We’ll Kickstart print editions once they are edited and ready to roll.

Editing is… hard. I mean, it’s probably hard for everyone, but it’s really hard for me because it is one of my mental breaking points. My brain assumes that when something is drafted, it’s done, and making big changes (or even small changes that have big effects) is hard for me to do. I am more than willing to admit to this fault.

It means that when my brain goes into edit mode, drafting mode goes POOF and disappears. And well, vice versa.

Over the last year, I’ve done a lot of work in learning how to edit, and I’ve gotten better at it. I did a first round edit of Into the Split to handle some large issues before DPP starts working on it. I did a big overhaul of a short story and turned it into a much better version of itself that I could submit to a market. But during that time, I couldn’t draft.

Part of that was time being a finite commodity, and part of it was that editing makes me overthink everything. And for Nate’s book in particular, there is a lot to overthink.

Nate’s book (Run Together, or RT in acronym form) is a book where it would be very easy, and possibly even a good idea, to have multiple narrators. While I had considered it briefly for Pels’s book (Not Your Guardian Angel), in the end, that one was a stronger book for being a single POV. This one I can see all the ways that having all three characters allowed to speak could make it stronger. Cass internalizes so much. And Dax… we’ve hardly gotten to see into his head at all in the PHU ‘verse so far. We know about how he handles his Talent, and that he’s a football stats vending machine. But seeing into his emotional side would be nice, especially considering the things he needs to work through during this storyline.

Every time I started working on the book, I thought about all the pieces that had been broken in ITS and needed to be fixed, and I stalled. I couldn’t wrap my head around the best way to tell the story.

I dubbed this problem “Nate vs. the Edits” in my head, which seemed like a decent title for a bout going multiple rounds in my brain with heavy fighting and damage. Like. Yikes.

Editing makes me analytical, and drafting requires me to shove my analytical parts into the background, letting the foreground take inspiration without failing under the anxiety of the details.

I have always trusted my subconscious when drafting. I have a brain like swiss cheese—I can’t hold details in my mind on purpose, but if I trust them to be there (like programming to a base case for recursion—yes, I know this makes no sense to anyone but me) the story works. I can recall things if I don’t try to recall. Trust my subconscious to fill in the blanks.

Right now, I have “outlined” the first maybe… quarter? third? of Nate’s book. I split a few of my pieces of the timeline into enough information to be able to draft three chapters. Except I feel like they aren’t quite right. The pacing is off.

I’ve lost the ability to write for the joy of writing the serial, for the joy of rolling around in drafting fic about the characters who live in my head. Or, I haven’t lost it… not completely. But I’m struggling with it, and yes, continuing to second guess myself. I’ve become my own gatekeeper, constantly concerned about whether I’m doing it right.

Ironically enough, this also affects editing. I haven’t opened the file for MF that I received a couple of weeks ago because I’m a bit afraid of what I’ll see. Like. They are edits and there are already notes in there that I just have to either agree with, reject, or find a different way to do it. Easy peasy, right?

HAH.

Instead, I’ve decided to use blog posts as my palette cleanser. I’ve spent the last half hour after work accomplishing nothing more than eating dinner and reading half a volume of manga. I know I need to write something so here I am, putting words on a page in hopes that it breaks the fiction loose.

Nate’s rattling around in here somewhere. So is Adam (for the 7Lakes book). They are ready to roll. It’s me that’s stalling.

A part of me thinks that when I’m retired, it’ll be easier. Mornings for drafting and afternoons for editing, or vice versa. Chores as palette cleansers between tasks. I hope that turns out to be true.

But for the moment, I’m squeezing in writing and editing like a teenager hiding my viewing of racy videos—hiding in a closed office for thirty minutes and praying I can get to the end before the time is up. Stealing away and closeting myself with my tablet, spewing words onto the keyboard, spilling my mind like blood from a wound.

/exhales

Yeah. I’m full of weird analogies. 

I know that there’s no secret to this. Yes, we all believe that we have a muse when we write, but we also have to put in the work. Editing is work. The paralyzation comes with the territory, and it means I’m learning. I am discovering what I’m doing wrong (and right!) and I need to internalize it.

No magic formula, just… patience. Doing it anyway. Pushing through.

If I have to edit and re-edit the first chapters of RT, it’s okay. It’s a serial, but I always try to get 4-8 chapters in before I start posting. I have time to fix things.

And somewhere, somehow, I have to do the editing for MF, too.

Two entirely different parts of my personality vying for what little time we have.

Best let them get to it, then, huh?

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[theinfinitedivides]

this is so random but i would love to hear your opinion on mydramalist as a fellow asian drama lover. because it’s obviously well known as a reliable wiki of sorts in dramaland but i beg to differ. (the only plus i feel being the summary and cast list for info)

i mean, i’ve not seen a single comsec w more than two brain cells as a whole? there’s always complaints about female leads rooted from misogyny, they are never happy about story progression, and i just find so many of them kinda dumb sorry lol. like zero media literacy to be found, insufferable arguments, etc. the star ratings are rly just given to popular dramas w high profile actors too.

and i personally find it disheartening that so many ppl end up referring to mdl when considering dramas because so many gems are then lost and not given appreciation.

anon. anon anon anon if you know the way i sat straight the f*ck up when i saw the notification and then read through this ask bc yes. yes to everything here that is exactly it. almost three fourths of what i've watched this year was either 1. not received well by the general MDL crowd (Moon in the Day. where is the taste brethren to not like MITD and not even for reasons that actually make sense), 2. received well but had a good chunk of people bitching in the comment section, or 3. received well but had the main point of the show (and its relevant characterization) go over their heads. (The Worst of Evil aka TWOE comment section, i am f*cking looking at you. i can count on one hand the number of people who understood what that show was supposed to be about) the one fourth that managed to escape was bc the toxicity did not reach the comment section and everyone was pretty f*cking civil. alas if only it could be like that all of the time

case in point for the ratings example, since we've already briefly tackled the lack of media literacy—j-dramas on MDL are notoriously rated much, much lower than either k- or c-dramas. half of the time that's bc there are less users watching (and rating) them therefore the average is lower but the other half it's bc people simply do not understand good media when they see it. don't get me wrong there's some freaky ass sh*t in the j-drama world that i would not touch with a Grinch level pole but to see MDLers out here talking about how slow j-dramas are and that nothing's happening. have you considered that you are either watching the wrong genre or you shouldn't be watching j-dramas in the first place bc their entire setup and general narrative framing arcs are not your style. have you even thought about that for six seconds or are you too busy expecting it to read like a typical tropey rom-com k-drama with your trending oppas. (no hate on my tropey rom-coms with [most of] said oppas, i need them when i don't want to think i just want to see sh*t on my screen and scream about hot people and the Hand Umbrellas in the Rain and the Back Hold when the male lead catches the female lead before she falls and you have the fifteen second focus on their faces just looking at each other)

and the misogyny. oh God do not get me started on the dichotomy that was the Cult, as we affectionatly called ourselves, on the feeds while THEE sageuk of the year My Dearest was airing (beloved show [that i still need to finish. JangChae i'm sorry ily life hates me like the mf it is 😭], beloved commentary on the feeds. they saw the vision on the feeds) vs the sh*tshow that was the landmine field of the comment section (the takes i saw on Gil Chae, Eun Ae AND Ryang Eum respectively.......... the misogyny wasn't enough we had to add the homophobia into the mix. buy one get one free deal fr fr). you mad man. that sh*t was insane there was a point i banned myself from scrolling farther than the cast section until the show finished airing. i kid you not on average they didn't have even half a braincell. maybe a quarter of a quarter of one. f*cked up just say you are not decent people and go

this is not to say that all of MDL is like this. i have gotten tuned into absolute masterpieces of content (and have tuned others, amen) bc of a comment comparing a show i'm watching to another one or a review being posted in the feeds about a film with less than 500 people interested. i have reconsidered my choice to not watch something after having spirited discussions in private messages discussing the pros and cons of the premise and whether they managed to get it done without f*cking sh*t up. i still contribute semi-regularly by adding relatively unknown actors and crew members to the database so they can get the credit due them. if you know where to look, you can get some good sh*t out of that place. problem is most users who are new to both the site and East/Southeast Asian cinema as a whole don't know where to look, and the cycle continues, and the ratings continue to be skewed/bloated and no one pays attention to the plot, if there even is any to pay attention to.

tl;dr: begging people to not let MDL be the be all end all for their drama recs a la 'well MDL doesn't like it so i won't watch it'. babe we have said MDLers complaining about how the ratings on Viki are too high but in my entire time watching dramas i've found that in the past two to three years the Viki ratings are making more sense than the MDL ones. sit with that for a sec. when you're done branch out and see the world (literally and cinematically), i promise you will be a better person for it

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for triggering my friends traumatic memories, bullying people online, doing dealings with a mafia boss and causing mass destruction to property?

(That all sounds unrelated but trust me on this!)

I (17M) am a Vigilante- so sue me, I know it's not legal but I know I'm not the AH on that front so no lectures please!

I enjoy tinkering and engineering, I have made many designs that I use in my Vigilante work (gloves that are guns, trampoline shoes, etc), but I was getting a little uninspired. So, I had an idea to try and get a bomb so I could try and reverse engineer it to make more bombs, you see? I knew the best way to get one would be through the black market, and I knew of a mafia boss who lived nearby so I figured the best way to get a bomb was to ask him.

He (20-300M) (I don't know how old he is, he's like a demon, they basically live forever) agreed to give me some bombs in return for all the money I had in my bank account, which I was more than happy to give. A week later, one of his henchmen (30ishM) gave me a bag of bombs in an exchange in a warehouse and I was set!

On the side of my Vigilante work, I enjoy making fun of people online. Something you should know about me is I hate people with weird names. They're always.. they're just odd. I had found one of them online and was making fun of him, as I do, and then moved on with my life. Unbeknownst to me, that man was the mafia bosses husband, who quite coincidently knew who I was.

Around this time, my mother figure (26F) was arrested for poisoning the water supply to our city and abandoning her Hero duties, subsequently working with Villains. Tensions were pretty high between myself and my best friend (17M), who I consider my brother, because of what our mother figure did. To try and help our mother figure, he joined the mafia boss to try and get her out of prison.

However, I didn't like that one bit. We argued about this, where I mentioned how he was turning into his abusive, alcoholic and now deceased father. He lost it, went all furious and we stopped being friends. The mafia boss learned about this and wanted to use it to his advantage, so he ordered his henchman and my best friend to kidnap me. I had, unfortunately, glued myself to a chair just the day before, and was unable to get away in time.

I was brought to his basement, where he proceeded to torture me, telling me that this was for what I did to his husband. He also ordered my best friend to rip off my arm, which he did.

I died shortly after that, from blood loss I guess, and I don't know what happened for a few weeks, but I got revived thanks to some machinations I know very little about.

I guess the decay or whatever had got to my head, or maybe the torture, but I decided to get my revenge on the world by using the bombs I had gotten previously to blow up a city. I was unfortunately only able to blow up around a quarter of it, before the man who revived me killed me again.

I was pretty satisfied to go down then, but out of guilt or something he revived me, and now I'm spending time in prison. I thought I was justified in what I was doing, but apparently I'm not according to some others?

Idk, AITA for all that? I don't think I am personally, I'm too cool to be an AH but I'm just curious what others think.

[circusgoth-dotcom]

The Storyteller and The Constable

Ship: Gabriel Caradog Angevine x Ichabod Crane

Word Count: 857

Summary: Gabriel and Ichabod had quickly become allies after his dispatch to Sleepy Hollow, mostly because Gabriel had found himself instantly smitten with the man's looks and mannerisms. Unfortunately, Gabriel believed there would be an unavoidable clash regarding their histories and personalities, so he began to present himself in a way that he hoped wouldn't "scare" Ichabod off. False appearances can only last so long. CWs for suggestive themes, alcohol mentions, themes of low self-worth/esteem, brief death mentions.

Tag List: @canongf @futurewife @dudefrommywesterns

Things had changed for Gabriel Angevine since Ichabod Crane had come to Sleepy Hollow. The young constable had been sent to investigate the brutal decapitations of the father and son Van Garrett, and the Widow Winship. While this consumed most of his waking hours, he still managed to find time to procure a few allies in the misty town... Gabriel among them.

Gabriel had always been known as the town’s storyteller, a master of words... and a master of promiscuity. As he grew closer to Ichabod, he began working hard to keep particular stories out of the man’s earshot. He’d done damn well, too, considering he was now spending time aiding in the investigation instead of spinning yarns around the fireplace. He could’ve almost passed himself off as someone worthy of Ichabod’s time if it hadn’t been for those drunkards.

“Angevine, we need a good story in these trying times! Where’ve you been lately?”

“Yeah! Oh, I know a good one, somethin’ that’ll make that horseman look like a sheet ghost...”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Osmund?”

“I believe I am, Daniel. Angevine, tell us about the time you shagged the Headless Horseman!”

Gabriel, who had been up to that point ignoring them and wiping down the tables in the guest house’s tavern, immediately froze. He knew Ichabod was still in the room, finishing a nightcap before retiring to his quarters. Glancing over, he saw confusion and embarrassment blooming on the poor man’s features. Gabriel stalked over to the bar and whipped the offending patrons with his towel, causing them to wince.

“I’m sure you know it by heart, nowadays, why don’t you tell it to yourselves?” He snapped before retreating to the store room behind the bar.

“What’s up with him??”

“He has been acting strangely...”

Ichabod, being a good and true friend, set aside his drink and pressed after him, excusing himself to the bartender. He found Gabriel anxiously twisting the dirty cloth in his hands, standing with his back facing him. He hadn’t realized he had been followed until Ichabod cleared his throat. He dropped the cloth on a nearby counter, taking a shuddering breath as he looked over his shoulder.

“Mr. Crane, I... you don’t need to confront me. I’d understand if you silently kept me out of the rest of your investigation.”

“Why would I do that?” His brow furrowed and his dark eyes were filled with questions. Gabriel turned fully toward him.

“Because I’m filthy. I can deny it no longer, there was no point in trying to make myself palatable for you.”

“Why would you change yourself for me??” Ichabod stepped closer.

“I liked you the instant we crossed paths, and I knew a man like you would not want to associate with a man like me, so in the hopes that I could get to know you better I ‘cleaned’ myself up.”

“And what kind of man is that?”

Gabriel scoffed. “Me or you?”

Ichabod shrugged. By his expression, Gabriel knew he was trying very hard to comprehend what was happening before him. “Both.”

Gabriel released another trembling breath, leaning back against the wooden counter. “We’re from two different worlds. You, from the city, the cobblestone, you have your pick of the harvest. Because you’re a gentleman. I, from the less developed country, the dirt, happy to take what he can get. Because what other choice do I have?”

“I think you’re m-more than that,” Ichabod rushed to get the words out of his mouth and still tripped over them, like a child running down an uneven slope. He swallowed. “You’ve shown me you’re more than that.”

“What you’ve seen of me is a farce--”

“Not completely,” Ichabod had taken Gabriel’s arms in his hands, their faces inches apart. They blushed. “Pardon me.”

“Mr. Crane.” He was lost in that woodsy gaze, the eyes of a fawn or a hard-working steed. Their chests heaved slightly before Ichabod finally let go, backing off. He absently felt for something in his pocket.

“Is it true? That you had... relations, with the local ghost story?” His ears were pink and his lips were tight. He couldn’t look at him this time, so Gabriel shut his eyes.

“No, it’s not. Just another one of my stories. For some reason, everyone got a kick out of it, even if it was one of my most vulgar. I guess we all need to indulge in the strange every once in a while... perhaps that’s what keeps us sane,” Gabriel answered firmly. Ichabod nodded, looking relieved, though he sounded slightly hoarse when he next spoke.

“You’ll have to tell it to me sometime.”

Gabriel’s eyes flew open in surprise. “Perhaps you’re not as straight and narrow as I assumed, Mr. Crane.”

“You can call me Ichabod. I don’t mind.”

He smiled and reached for his hand. “Very well, Ichabod.”

Ichabod closed the gap, feeling the feather-light touch of Gabriel’s cool skin against his own, pockmarked from memories best forgotten. “I like you very much, Gabriel. I wouldn’t want to miss out on your company in this town, plagued by mysterious death.”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

[sweetheradevil]

AUGUST COURT REPORTING THOUGHTS

Hiii :3 since court reporting takes up most of my time, I wanted to do a monthly write-up on my thoughts. I have a lot to say and I feel bad for subjecting all my friends to my yammering about it HAHAH

Current Speed: 140-160 WPM

The 2024 summer quarter has been the most challenging by far. This is the longest I've been stuck in a speed level (June-September) and I have had many, many frustrating moments with my typing abilities. I hit a wall for most of July, so I am currently two levels behind where I want to be. Fortunately, it looks like I'm just about to exit my 140s.

Despite my exasperation with my typing, I feel like this wall presented me with an opportunity to slow down and actually engage with the court reporting community as a whole and learn things about this career I wouldn't have considered if I had just continued speeding along.

In my stupor, I began talking to other reporters to learn why they pursued this career, what they struggled with as students, and also how things will start looking once I go out there and start working myself.

But before I get to that, I kind of wanted to talk about a realization I had about court reporting as a whole. I never doubted that this was the career I wanted, but I feel like being a court reporter in the era of misinformation takes on an entirely different meaning. With the rampant use of AI by people on the internet, peddling of malicious/false ideas, and the intake of large bodies of information, there's a distinct charm about being able to take down something verbatim. This is by no means me condoning the justice system (because as we all know, there are so many issues with it); however, I am glad that I'm a court reporter because should I come across injustices in court, I am taking that down on paper. I am preserving the history of the courtroom and in a time of rampant misinformation and downright manipulation of information, that is so important to me. I plan to work as an official in a courthouse (because to be so honest being my own boss sounds like hell on Earth) so I'll be present for so much stuff that happens.

The internet was once an endless source of knowledge, but now its function has been severely limited by incorrect information, censorship, and paywalls. I used to be in awe at the vast amounts of knowledge I had in the palm of my hand, only for it to be rendered insufficient by all of this bullshit that's out there. It almost feels integral to my values that I will be sitting and preserving a vital part of history in the justice system. Perhaps my efforts will be useful for someone who needs to look back on the record for evidence of various misdeeds, because god knows we need it.

Having to go through court reporting school is hellish, but because I believe it's for a good cause, it's worth it. It also pays handsomely, which I'm very happy about due to financial strife my family has in my adolescence, but that's a topic for another day.

That is one of my biggest inspirations for trekking through school. Another is the fact that this almost feels like a refuge from the horrible job market most people are at the whim of right now. Most reporters chose court reporting as a second career after they were made miserable by their previous jobs. Most of the court reporters I've spoken to are single mothers who had a better opportunity at life after pursuing this career. I'm on the young side for going through court reporting school (most of my schoolmates are middle-aged) but I'm glad to see that there are opportunities for people beyond university. I'm kind of relieved I'm not in a field dominated by men that will undermine my abilities, but rather with other women I have a lot of solidarity with. I really do love this community and the path I'm on.

I'm so, so excited. I think I am just about to pass out of my 140s, so let's hope I can make it to my 200s by the end of the year. Yippeee!

[domjaehyun]

omg i was notttt prepared for smut in the first quarter and yet we're spiTTINGGG????? haechan u freak (me too i guess)

tbim making me feel so many things likeee it's all such a mess (which i love does that make me a masochist idk) and i feel so bad for every fucking character like yn is confused and haechan is a dick (in every sense) and winter is pretty self explanatory and then there's jeno who got dragged into it poor boy. and all of their friends myyyy god if i was one of them i would be torrrnn any decision they decide make regarding yn and hyuck it's like basically picking sides and i would feel so fucking bad if i had to

and i just want to add a tier of my fav your work of yours and idc if udc

1.pussy fiend (been here since it came out literally never leaving)

2.tangerine love (weirdly a very comforting fic likeeee what's wrong with meeee)

3.the boy is mine (new entry might even rank up based on the ending have so much hope for this one)

and i wanted the patreon contents sooooo bad but i live on the other side of the world and when the currency is converted its craaaazyyy im so sorry ill just have to imagine shit myself and support u morally ig if i am any help

OMG HEHEHE HI HI

yeah we’re spitting IN MY DEFENSE THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ONE LONG FIC I DIDNT MEAN TO COME OUT THE GATE SWINGING WITH SPITTING IN THE FIRST SCENE OF PART 5 😭 yeah me too that’s hot hehe

I’M SO HAPPY YOU SAID THAT that means im doing something right :D I DONT THINK IT MAKES YOU A MASOCHIST it makes you human. it makes you curious. feeling emotions is what makes life worth living (and hopefully the good emotions are powerful enough to make you stick through the bad ones) so wanting to read complex situations with a myriad of emotions makes total sense! it’s more realistic than, like, i am…… bc ideally i would never have angst ever ever ever only happy thoughts at all times :D and yeah they’re all going through it EVEN HAECHAN GIVE HIM A BIT OF GRACE!!!!

OF COURSE I CARE I LOVE KNOWING WHAT PEOPLE LOVED MOST OUT OF MY WORKS !!!!! now im going down 1 by 1:

1. pussy fiend — this is fair i love pussy fiend it’s perfect perverted lovesick haechan like what is wrong with that boy and can he date me

2. TANGERINE LOVE MEANS SO MUCH TO ME I ADORE IT HE’S SO . FJKGLDSJKGFJKLDKJ I CANT EVEN FORMULATE WORDS something abt that specific haechan is so dreamy. its one of the first times i considered like . him just knowing she likes him from the get go like in pussy fiend he figures it out at the end but in tangerine love he can tell like from the beginning and theres no playing around with her emotions, he’s just very earnest while still being hot and flirtatious and playful and i love that so much

3. HEHEHE well i hope it ranks up but i would understand if it stayed in the same place bc i am not sure how you want the ending to go,,,,, but i hope it goes the way you wanted!!!!!!!!! :D

AND i was thinking about this earlier but if you wanted to like . paypal/venmo/cashapp me the $6, i could share the tbim patreon content with you!!! like if you can’t do a monthly subscription i totally get it bc we’ve all got stuff going on !!!! i’ve already done it for one person and i wouldn’t mind doing it again!! if you’re interested u could come off anon and i could work something out w you? up to you though no pressure 💖 THANK YOU SO MUCH DARLING THIS MADE ME SO HAPPY have a great day ily 🫂

[celinetsengg]

Week #6 Reflection

What am I most proud of? What has humbled me?

When reflecting on my life, I think I am most proud of my recent developments in my positive outlook towards life. I think during a lot of high school, I was very focused on academics, as that was what my parents have been enforcing on me my entire life. During this time, I feel that I was too focused on academics and didn’t prioritize my social life or mental wellbeing. I think since senior year and coming to college, I have found a better balance in my social life, academics, and mental health. I think now, my outlook towards life is to focus on my own happiness and balance. Although this quarter has been especially difficult to maintain, during fall and winter I made sure to prioritize my personal well being. I always try to do things for myself, whether that be tanning in the sun, hanging out with my friends, going off campus to eat food, or just staying in my room and watching a movie. Furthermore, I have been trying to live by the motto that sometimes it is truly not that deep. I consider myself a chronic overthinker, and I often internalize my emotions, so I have been trying to live optimistically and with less worry. I also try to go and do as many fun things as possible, whatever that may consist of, which truly helps my mental health. I really try and prioritize giving myself a break to make sure I am well. 

One thing that has humbled me is my lack of time management. I definitely tend to procrastinate, which I was able to get by before during fall and winter quarter since I was not too busy, but now it is definitely affecting my schedule. I am always feeling behind, yet when I have some extra free time I tend to do other less imminent things or somehow fill it by doing something unproductive (ish, depending on the task). Time management is definitely something I need to work on. 

[bravewolfvesperia]

Dear Yuri,

I do genuinely hope that this letter finds you well. I wanted to, first off, apologize for not being able to visit the Lower Quarter as frequently as usual this month. Things have been hectic as of late and it’s left me with little, if any, free time to spare. The few times I have stopped by, you were always away either running an errand for Hanks or probably out harassing those two men from Captain Schwann’s brigade. By the way, the next time we see each other, I would like to have a word with you regarding this new habit of yours. But that’s a topic for another time. I’m writing to you for an entirely different reason today. 

The last time I stopped by the Lower Quarter, it was mostly just to check in on everyone, including you. Especially you. You’ve been on my mind consistently, especially as of late, and I thought it was simply because I was worrying about you. Which I am, please don’t assume I’m not. I want you to be able to smile and not feel as if you have to be stuck in the Lower Quarter your whole life. You deserve to be happy, Yuri.

I’m once again rambling. Worrying over you still isn’t the main reason why I’m writing this letter. Though I suppose it could be argued that it’s related. You see, while I was visiting the Lower Quarter recently, Sylvia pulled me to the side and … scolded me, I suppose. For a few reasons, actually. I don’t think she’s actually gotten onto me like that since we were younger. Regardless she had started rambling on about how I needed to be more honest with you and with myself. That I should stop making excuses about why I’m visiting the Lower Quarter and that when I did visit, I needed to be honest about who I wanted to see the most. 

I must admit, I’m not entirely sure what she means when she says “Making excuses to visit the Lower Quarter”. Because I am genuinely visiting to check on everyone. But at the same time… I think I understand where she is coming from. I do visit the Lower Quarter because I care for everyone there. I’ll love everyone within the Lower Quarter until the day I die. But there is one person in particular who I find myself more excited than ever to see when I do visit. 

I haven’t gotten to see him lately and I suppose the disappointment on my face may have given me away. So… Silvia made a suggestion. She suggested that I be honest with myself and if I can’t see the one I want to see the most, then perhaps I should write him a letter expressing my desire to see him along with how I truly feel. I didn’t have to ask for clarification for what she was referring to on that last part. 

And so… Here’s the truth, as plain and simple as I can get. 

I love you, Yuri, and I want to see you. I’ve loved you for many years now, even during our hardest moments together and I want to see you more than anything. I know this may seem like it’s coming out of nowhere but you have invaded my thoughts every single day since we were little. It seems like I can’t even have a normal conversation anymore without bringing you up in some form or fashion. I can’t speak with anyone without seeing your face flash through my mind. I think about you so much, sometimes, that it hurts when I can’t see you. 

I know that this might seem sudden but I have given this a lot of thought. It’s not an impulsive decision or anything like that. I love you. I truly do. I would say it a hundred times if you needed me to. You are my everything. 

When you receive this letter, please take your time and give my words some thought. You’ll have plenty of time, since I’ll be going on a pilgrimage soon and will be away from Zaphias for an extended amount of time. Hopefully, it will be enough time for you to consider my feelings and to think through yours. 

I pray that you feel the same for me as I do you but I also hope that if you come to the conclusion that you do not feel the same, that you won’t let it come between us. At the end of the day, you are my most precious friend, Yuri. Your friendship is more important to me than anything else and I don’t want to lose that if you decide that you don’t see me as someone you would want by your side in a romantic sense.

I apologize for dropping this on you and then immediately having to leave the city for a bit. I'm afraid this was probably the only way I would have the courage to tell you. 

I look forward to hopefully seeing you again when I return. (And if you need someone to blame for this, I'm sure Sylvia will be glad to hear any complaints. Maybe she’ll go easier on you than she did me.) 

Sincerely, Flynn

---

…Flynn stared down at the envelope in his hand with dread and unease. He was silent as he listened to the clock in the room tick as the time slowly passed by, edging closer and closer to the appointed hour. To the hour where he and his squad headed out on this pilgrimage. To the hour where he would be away from the capital for weeks, maybe even a month and a half. Maybe longer, depending on what needed to be done. 

Down to the hour where he had planned to stop by Yuri’s inn room in the Lower Quarter and deliver the letter before he left. At least, that was his plan. If Yuri were there, he had planned to hand him the letter personally but request that he don’t read it until that afternoon. If Yuri wasn’t there, he would simply leave the letter on his table for him to see when he returned. Regardless, his plan was to deliver the letter today.

At least… that was the plan. But the longer that Flynn stared at the letter, the more he went over its contents in his head. And the more unhappy he was with the final result. What would happen if he truly gave this letter to Yuri? Would he be happy? Disgusted? They hadn’t been on the best terms lately… Would Yuri laugh at him for this? Make fun of him for feeling this way? 

Should he have worded it differently? Would leaving right after delivering the letter hurt Yuri? Flynn tried to put himself in Yuri’s shoes but… it was difficult to tell with Yuri sometimes. As well as Flynn could read Yuri, he was also just as shrouded in mystery at times when it came to his feelings, especially intimate ones such as this. 

Was this all just a waste of time…? Was Flynn just kidding himself? 

The fog of doubt began to cloud Flynn’s judgment and suddenly, he felt sick looking at this letter. No, no, this wasn’t right. He couldn’t give this to Yuri. Not like this. Not right before he left. He needed to reword some things, cut out some of the things he wrote, truly try and convey his feelings from his head onto paper. And… he simply just did not have the time to do that right now. 

His shoulders slumped as he quietly moved over to his closet and pulled it open. Yuri had been to his room multiple times and sometimes even snuck into his room when Flynn was away in order to deliver stuff from the Lower Quarter for him so leaving the letter out where anyone could read it was dangerous. So for now, he tucked it gently into his closet for when he returned. 

And maybe, just maybe, when he came home, he could try and figure out a better way of telling Yuri just how much the man meant to him.

((Hi have a secret love letter for yuri to find at the beginning of the game teeheehee))

@mistralxsoul

Yuri had simply been checking for first aid supplies Flynn might have spare, hoping to grab some now and pay him back later if need be. After dealing with that weirdo assassin, it felt safest to bring more medical supplies along, and he knew he couldn't afford what he needed if guys like that were gonna pop up every so often. While he was positive Estellise could afford whatever they needed given her status, she was in a hurry to get out of the castle. That meant she wasn't going to want to stop at a store to stock up before they got out of the city. Since she was headed for Flynn anyway, it meant they could work out replacing any supplies they borrowed once she found him.

But as Yuri was checking around for what Flynn might have on hand, a paper slipped from the closet and onto the floor. Normally he would have simply picked it up and put it away, but as he leaned down to pick it up, he noticed... his name on it. Though he didn't mean to, he'd started scanning it, only to blank out at the words on the page and decide he should just start from the beginning. When he heard Estellise calling his name from behind him, asking him what was wrong as he'd stopped searching, he could only give a quick "uh, yeah, sorry, hang on a minute...". She was in a hurry and she might get aggravated, but Yuri couldn't stop himself from checking the paper that had his name on it.

Some of the words at the beginning were familiar. Things he didn't understand why Flynn would spend the time writing and not just telling Yuri. As the letter progressed, Yuri was starting to get confused. It wasn't like it was a bad thing if he admitted to Yuri that he wanted to see him and check on him. Why did the innkeeper want to talk to him about that?

But those pieces were coming together just from the "him" Flynn was mentioning. Fact was, Yuri would know if Flynn was, he didn't know, seeing someone? If Flynn had met someone and was excited to see them again? Not that Yuri was comfortable with that thought at all. The very idea of it turned his stomach into an awful feeling knot, and Flynn hadn't even said a thing about that in this letter. But again, either way... if there was someone, it wasn't like Yuri wouldn't have found out somehow. They told each other everything.

That feeling didn't last long though. For a moment, his breath had halted when he saw the right words. They were so certain that they were there more than once. At the same time, they were... familiar. Familiar because Yuri had them too. Yuri had also been that way since they were kids.

When Flynn can't see him... That was often now, wasn't it? They had gone from being together all the time to not very often. They could have stayed together in the knights. Maybe Yuri was the one who had been impulsive. Had left after one good man died. Didn't wait longer to help Flynn fix things from the inside. Should he have have... stayed?

And the words appeared again. They were serious. It reminded him of the journal Flynn used to write as a knight. How often Yuri's name came up in it. Here, it was similar, but it was either his name or the word "love" instead.

Since Flynn had already left on that pilgrimage, he did indeed have plenty of time to think this over. As much as the castle noble who had asked for his help wanted to get to him quickly, they couldn't guarantee there wouldn't be unwanted stops. Not only that, but they had to stop and rest along the way, on top of having a stop before Halure.

Still, Flynn said he would otherwise be away for a long time, which corroborated the noble woman's claim. If not for this girl asking for Yuri's help to get out of here, when would be the next time he'd even see Flynn? Yuri hadn't even been told he would be leaving. Nobody had, evidently. Surely Flynn of all people had a reason that absolutely nobody in the Lower Quarter knew he was leaving, and for such a long time... If Flynn had been for whatever reason upset at Yuri's behavior, he would have no doubt normally at least told Hanks he'd be gone for a while. If this was just a simple pilgrimage, why hadn't he just... said so?

As far as Yuri's own feelings though, he didn't... have to think through them. He already knew them. He just... didn't know what to do with them. Things were fine between them, generally. For the most part, things were the same as always, aside from Yuri getting into trouble the way he had been. That was... complicated, but... otherwise, he and Flynn had recovered at least a good bit from their days as knights. Yuri was content with the way things were, wasn't he?

...Wasn't he?

Is that Flynn meant? By thinking through his feelings? It wasn't untrue that Yuri was happy with things the way they were. He didn't think that he and Flynn would behave much differently if they... both confessed. Maybe that was why Yuri had never taken that step. Maybe he was scared. Maybe he didn't know what to expect. He couldn't pinpoint a single solid reason. He had just opted to be happy with the way things were, because Flynn would always be in his life.

Or... was he taking that for granted? Flynn was a lieutenant now. The higher into the ranks he got, the more dangerous his jobs would be. The more possible it was that... he could... die out there. Even if Yuri was okay with things being the way they were now, would he still feel that way if he'd never told Flynn the depth of his real feelings? All of these feelings were real, but they weren't... everything. He was happy with the way things were, but that didn't mean he didn't want... more than that.

Romantic...

What a weird word, and yet... it made sense. It made sense why Yuri, as a teen, had been so attracted to him and wanted to do things that weren't just friendly. Why those intrusive thoughts would pop up and distract him. Even now, it wasn't like he could ever see himself doing "couple" things with anyone else. He couldn't even fathom someone else knowing "everything" there was to know about him. Couldn't fathom telling anyone else all his deepest feelings.

Until now he hadn't noticed the way his heart felt like it had sneaked right up into his throat. How he could feel every singular beat. He was sure Estellise had said something to him by now that he'd completely blocked out on accident.

Right. They were supposed to be leaving. Yuri placed the letter back into the closet around where he'd seen it fall earlier before, quickly scanning the closet again for what he'd came here for. Distractedly, he'd managed to find some safely stored gels and took a few of each from the stash. Probably an emergency or "can't get to a store right now" supply. He would replace it later. If he didn't remember to tell Flynn he'd taken some, eventually Flynn would notice some were missing when he was back in his room again.

For now he closed the closet doors and tried to ignore the feeling of his hammering heart.

---

And there was Flynn. Had just helped him ward off some of those red eyes nuts, then shouted his disappointment in Yuri. Of course Yuri was going to hide his problems behind pretending he was pleased with the bounty on his head. But as Flynn kept going, Yuri found himself ignoring the blond's words and thinking more to that damn letter. How it had distracted him all the way here.

His feelings... He already knew Flynn's, even if it was on accident. Even if Flynn couldn't stop yapping about the bounty on his head, he... loved him. That wouldn't get between that love? But with his nagging, someone was bound to hear him sooner than later. Yuri huffed between both the one-sided bickering and how rushed he felt, but he had to do this now, right? If he waited... it just meant the longer they kept on with him knowing what he knew and not saying anything. That... wasn't fair to Flynn.

So he sighed at the spilling of words from Flynn and pulled him closer by the shoulder, pressing their lips together and trying to push aside the nervousness. At least it got Flynn to stop yammering on about that whole business. He could explain that later. Yuri would have lingered longer if it wasn't for the fact that anyone could show up at any time now.

When he pulled away, he managed a small smile, even as he hoped desperately that Flynn's feelings hadn't changed because of this. If they... If they had... they'd be better once this was all explained, right? Because recently, Yuri had done nothing different as far as the smalltime crimes, and... the rest was made up by... whoever wanted him caught. At the very least he'd been able to respond to Flynn's letter though. The "catch up with me" one too, in fact.

"I read your letter, asshole. More specifically, I found it on accident, but... yeah. I thought about it. About my feelings. So... when you get a chance... and when this mess is all cleared up... we can talk about it. Because... I... love you too. And no, I'm not saying this to distract you. I just don't wanna lose the chance and have to keep it in while I know about your feelings. To... go on who knows how long with you not knowing I know. That wouldn't be fair to you, especially since I know I wasn't supposed to see it, at least not yet, so... I'd rather you know now. We can talk about everything else first if you need to, just... I didn't wanna wait because of all that. I wanted to make sure you knew."

[toughsprinkles]

Over the last week, I've experienced many things. I've gotten new outfits from my church thrift store. Tried healthy eating for a day lol, spent time with my dog, and my boyfriend Josh. I've experienced happiness from household good being bought and a surprise trip to cerreta's chocolate factory. Which is located in Arizona. I got a full pound of chocolates which I am enjoying this week my very good spoils. I've decorated for halloween and the fall season, even candles and lotions included. All in all a good week all things considered.

I'm currently sitting at Starbucks writing my blog and finding a way to introduce myself to this blog....

I am Telisa LeFevre at this point. Someday I aspire to be Telisa Fralick, but we don't know everything before it happens or do we?

I am in love with Josh Fralick, and we have been together for a year and 3 quarters. lol Our anniversary is December 21, 2023. Which for a year of that I thought our anniversary was in January, because of official titling but all things said, but adventures not had yet, we are happy and content being together. We've experienced golf dates, food dates, store dates, and hikes, and even trips together. We currently live apart but hope to change that eventually. He lives an hour from me so his effort to see me is life changing and awe inspiring love. He has loved me through all my changes, even the toughest ones including:

Almost experiencing homelessness, suicidal thoughts, hospital stays, positive encouragements, two jobs over the last year, a move, and a new life goal.

I'm currently in college for Psychology: Addictions and Recovery. However I may change that later to Christian Counseling Bachelors degree. Depending on if I can handle the real life experiences of helping and mentoring those in addiction and recovery. I'm currently taking a Peer Specialist Certification Class to become certified to be a Peer Support Specialist in a therapy office. Peer support specialists work with individuals to help mentally ill, or addicts in recovery, or anyone who needs extra support, find goals and attain them themselves, all while rolemodeling and mentoring them in their recovery process throughout at time in their lives. I have wanted to be a peer specialist since I graduated high school in 2011.

I first found out about peer specialists when I was in highschool attending counseling as a teen. I attended counseling for behavioral issues, as well as a drug problem, and family genetic depression. Shortly after my drug problem arose, so did the symptoms of schizophrenia. Which I no doubt got from my father. In no way do I blame either of my parents. In fact they are very informed about my life and have major roles in my life. Anways, back to it. I had a peer specialist on my case during my time doing therapy and counseling, and he changed my whole view of peer support. He helped in my aid of getting clean, leaving a friend group that supplied, and aided me in going to therapy and counseling groups for my healing and benefits after my long hospital stay that led to very high dosages of antipsychotics for the schizophrenia and depression. I was eventually diagnosed with Bipolar Schizophrenia. Thus led a long 10 years of counseling and singleness, up until the time I met my ex. When I met my ex I was ready to date, it had been 6 years of singleness, and I was ready to experience life after many suicidal attempts and hospitalizations for those attempts. None of which fatal luckily. I stayed with that ex for four years. He wasn't abusive when it started. Just little comments about my weight, no big deal. Ha. Should have known. We ended up in his first abusive fight about 2 1/2 to 3 years into the relationship. He put his hands around my throat. I cried, and screamed for hours, never had I been put in a stance where my life or so much anger could be a danger to me. I've been smacked by a step parent once, but never like this. I stayed though, I was living with him, we just needed space, so we moved into a larger place, and things calmed down. By year four it was nothing but minor conversations and of terrible things sex as often as we both needed or wanted. But he was still abusive. He was about my weight, he was about me with talking to other men, I couldn't have friends without him thinking something. Then.... it happened again. Another time with hands around my throat, and I did the only thing I knew possible was to call the police. He went to jail, and a restraining order was placed. I spent months afterwards moving back into my uncle's place with my mom, and looking for new ways to get away from him. He knew where I lived, could "stop by" anytime he wanted to risk his court order and things just went south. My symptoms were bad, I was distraught and depressed.

All things considered my uncle and family were guiding lights to me.

My uncle suddenly passed that same year in 2023, in October. May he always rest in peace and his soul be delivered to Almighty God.

Because of my uncle passing, we had to move out of our house because my mother and I and cousins could not afford it. I moved to Arizona with my mother into my brother's apartment luckily for 6 months before we found a new apartment. I met my current boyfriend in November online on a dating site. He lived an hour away but he was sure he wanted to know me, and he spent every single friday with me that first year just to take me out on day dates, and it shortly turned into the love of my life.

My mother and I found another apartment and we currently live there on our second year leasing there. I know I'm 32 and live with my mom, but bro it is so expensive out there, and were working on a plan to get a modular home someday together me and Josh. I'm so excited to be alive, and be working toward being a peer specialist and someday a therapist.

This life has many joys, and struggles and strife, but I strive to be a happy, peaceful, fun loving, part of this world.

And that's me in a nutshell. A literal nutshell, I'm a nut. I'm cookee, and fun, and real. alive. Ready for pretty much anything. Maybe not everything but life is so worth living. Yeah love makes it worth it, we get it. Yada yada. But it's really passion, passion to pursue. passion to succeed, passion to worship the maker, passion to include those you love on your journey, and passion to just straight up be alive.

These are the tough times of our lives, and these are the sprinkles. Thus, toughsprinkles blog is here.

I'll be posting my mood, my poetry, my adventures with Josh, and family, and successes and fails of life, along with pictures of everyday things, and just random good things to find in life. This blog is a timeline journey of good and bad. Tough and sprinkles. Have a sweet day!

[percontaion-points]

Lifeblood chapter 11 & bonus chapter 5

Today's review might be difficult for some; reader discretion is advised

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Chapter 11

The vacuum tightens until I feel as if I’m being expelled from a birth canal…

Yo, what the fuck. 

Imagine being an author. You can write literally anything. And you sit down to write, and you choose to write THIS. 

When we reach the edge of the perimeter, Victor holds out his arms to block me. “You’re in charge, Ten, and you can go first, if that’s what you want, but I don’t like the thought of a Conduit in danger. Let me check things out per protocol? Just in case?” 

“No. I would much rather place myself—” 

“Thanks for understanding.” He pats my shoulder and rushes through the Buckler, gun aimed and at the ready.

Why did he even bother to ask permission if he was going to do whatever he wanted anyway?

“Thanks for understanding.” He pats my shoulder and rushes through the Buckler, gun aimed and at the ready. 

Well. Irritation flares, but I tamp it down. Is this how I come across to Elizabeth? Pushy and relentless? Sow and reap.

I have to start working with my team rather than bulldozing over everyone. They have more experience, collectively and individually. I can take a backseat...upon occasion.

Except that Victor also isn’t “working with the team”. He asked Ten what to do, and then did whatever the fuck he felt like doing. 

Shells are able to eat to better blend in with humans, but the food—or note, whatever—goes into a tube we have to empty later. 

I’m sharing this so that we can all enjoy the mental image of needing to remove chewed food from the “backdoor” of each body. 

For the first time, I’d seriously considered making covenant with Myriad. I’d wanted to be with him. What a mistake that would have been. I’d been one of thousands to him. What number am I to Killian?

Chapter 11 summary: As I’d predicted, Killian hit the “instant eject” spot on Ten’s shell, which immediately sent her back to Troika. Kayla was waiting for her with a new shell, but also with the news that Killian left Gingerbread tied to a tree near where they had been. So Ten goes back to the safehouse, and with Victor, Clay, and Liz, goes to get the dog. There’s a note addressed to Ten on the collar, from Killian. Ten thinks about how Killian warned of a spy, so rather than to risk anybody knowing what the note said (as trivial as it was), she eats the paper. 

Dior is happy to have her beloved pet back with her. They all stand around and talk about her upcoming trial, but there’s not much to actually say about it. The members of the spiritual justice system are neither Troikian nor Myridian, but exist outside of it to be impartial, so that’s good at least. 

Ten then make arrangements to teleport Dior to another safehouse. The only other person who will go will be Clay, who goes with them. They basically do a heavenly version of “Beam me up, Scotty”. But because it’s with that pure light, it reacts badly with the dark sickness in Dior, and causes her immense pain. 

Dior is surprised and then frightened when she finds out that they’re in the now-closed asylum. Clay and Ten don’t hide the place’s evil history from her, but only agrees to stay when Ten tells her that nobody will think to look for her there. They get her settled in the worker’s quarters, which have more comforts than where the prisoners were kept. As they’re finishing up, Ten randomly thinks about James, her first boyfriend who turned out to be from Myriad who was trying to trick her into signing by weaponizing sex. 

Bonus chapter 5

PPS: before you freak out, debriefings are standard operating procedure…and yours is scheduled to take place five minutes before now. Hustle!

Bonus chapter 5 summary: Ten decides to email Levi and tells him that there’s a spy among them. Levi responds that he knows, because he’s good at his job. He says that they’ll discuss it, among other things, at her debriefing in a few minutes. 

[source-of-support]

Wu Tang had it right.

You can laugh yourself into enlightenment. the side effects of what you’re doing is gonna determine how long you’re going to enjoy your enlightenment. - RZA on the track Enlightened Statues on Chamber Music CD

I’ve been living this Wu Tang enlightenment for a little while. The length was long. it’s still going, the flame lit.

I started down a different path. I had to. Some might say an argument that its necessary. to carry the flame wherever it may lead. Mine led me to Nihilism. Ignore what you think about the word and listen a sec. I don’t know what it means either. I just know this story to guide you to where I’m standing so you can see for yourself what I can’t explain, I’ve seen it a long time and hopefully you can see it too and if you follow me this far, a little further ahead is light.

When I was a youngin I was a swimmer. A poor swimmer, bereft of skill or speed. I just plopped in the water and waddled my legs and arms. So I was held back in the guppies, the YMCA’s designation for entry level swimmers. I was at an outdoor pool and saw these two fish that I knew well. The two guppies mascots in person. Now I’ll say this. I wasn’t naive. I knew they weren’t real fish. as most children wouldn’t. I however had the sudden vision that if they weren’t fish what were they? They were in a costume. they ?? people. So I said to my mom as she coaxed me to embrace them, There’s people in there. she said what? I said there’s people in those fish/costumes. (I can’t remember the phrasing at this part.)

We give our children a pretend world to interface with. I take it a step further today and have for a while. The world we live in is a pretend one. that money is valuable. those who break off from the game of pretend are homeless. some god damn game eh? Holden aside, and the hotshots aside, every story is an interface. The game being a game? Who am I talking to? Who are you that I talk with you? Do I have hope that by asking for help with my problems I’ll be saved from this nothing that is a life without games?

Another story. I was in elementary school and my mom gave me 2 dollars for lunch. Lunch was 1.25. I paid for lunch and said to myself. I like my friends. Let’s play a game where I can make them like me and give them a boon as well. I said come over here. I have a few quarters and they’ll be whoever’s who retrieves them. I gathered three or four people and threw my quarters in the air and a guy, Christian, said, you could have just given them to us. I was ashamed at my selfishness. I hadn’t considered they might dislike my game. But slapping hands and exchanging quarters for nothing wasn’t fun for me. It made me quite sad in the moment.

My eleventh grade teacher taught my class a word. it was a d- word. I forget it and am on the lookout for it. It’s an old word. before internet culture erupted into a cesspool of inbred references. The word was for someone who arranges the activities of their friend group. Say they go on a trip and it’s coordinated by this person and the word describes this person’s coordination and leadership.

This is all to say that underneath it all, like a blanket or rug that hasn’t been looked under for a while, the games we play the activities we like, the doers who create the rules for these games to preserve their esteem and officiality amongst such a diverse crowd and population, is a nihilism. A meaninglessness that is fought off by experiencing the nothing and relaxing. not convulsing. not evading it. or drowning it.

I’m aware now that there is a power that resides outside me that is a sort of natural physical and philosophical energy that draws from me and breathes into me curiosity. I used to cop out of relying on this energy. I said, If I had a friend who I could travel the world and relate to them the things I care about and they reciprocated, I’d be happy. Instead of venturing forth in brave ignorance to see what the world was, I relied on the energy of my fellow gamesman. Now I’m getting past the convulsing part. For me it’s caused by an unrelenting loneliness. But I know, from many recent experiences I am capable of holding a conversation. I’m unafraid of people. I’m afraid of the games they play but not the threat of their presence.

And with those stories told and my location being signaled. What say you? what do you see? Feel free not needing to respond. It’d be quite odd for this to be my first response I get from a tumblr post. Not a one person has talked to or dm’d me here. And this is my natural mode of being. To think and to express and be anonymous. To experience my solitude is getting easier. I thank you for your time if you took the time to read through this. I hope you feel okay.

Sources : Wu Tang Chamber Music Enlightened Statues RZA

Eternalized - Youtube . com Nihilism Encounter with Nothingness

And a long story I’ve been trying to get rid of and failing at doing so. The story of a man who cried a river and drowned the whole land. he looked so mad in photographs but I absolutely am him in the flesh.

[astrowonder98]

Turning 25, and about time for a quarter-life crisis.

What a mess social media has found itself in. Facebook and Twitter are either seen as a joke or in disrepair, Places like DeviantART want to experiment with AI art and it has hindered the site, and no one is in a prime position to take over and be the new place we can all hang out. The internet is going though a major painful metamorphosis and I am not sure how to feel about it... cause who the heck knows the result? Not me!

It's probably a fitting time as ever. This month will mark the big 25 (specifically July 7th, give Ringo Starr my birthday cheer, too.) and I have been doing a lot of thinking in my life about what I want to do and how I can do it while still being able to survive. And the honest to goodness fact is that I haven't come up with any answers, at least not any good answers that I can work with.

I'm going to try and make my thoughts on what is going on with me as simple as possible.

I've worked in the same dead end part-time job for the past two years. It's above minimum wage, sure, but it's not a living wage either. It's also a highly physical job. Most of the time I'm in the parking lot outside. In the burning sun. Lifting heavy objects and pushing carts. Despite it being part-time, I feel wiped out after the fact and not want to do anything else. This has frustrated people who wonder why this can possibly happen (my workplace and a couple of my close family.) The only reason I am still here at this point is because I need the healthcare.

In spite of a degree in Computer Science, virtually every application sent with using it in mind has never been acted upon, not even getting to the interview phase. Just rejected. What's ironic is that applications sent to other retail places have gotten quick responses back. People look at my resume with my degree and see more readily a sales representative than a software developer and it doesn't make me feel great...

All of this culminates in coming back home without feeling a thing. Completely emotionless. I'm in therapy for this, but it's been a slow progress to get to this point. And unless I do something drastic I might be stuck in a loop for a while longer, which stinks.

It was a mistake thinking that making art and creating stuff for people to enjoy would do anything to change that and hoping, somehow, it could turn into an actual career. I really held out hope in this avenue but have now reached a conclusion that it will just be nothing more than a hobby I do on the side. The fact that any original material (Always Lagging Behind, Rocket Board, and other original character art) I've created has gotten less attention and praise than fanart does not help in me reaching this conclusion (especially with my involvement in Pokemon Mystery Dungeons and Dragons: Dark Heroes.)

By extension, I accidentally made things I like to do for fun or should be relaxing as work I must do, and that's just not good for my mind, let alone anyone's mind. It's probably why I don't feel happy when trying to relax and try to enjoy things, but it also might be more complicated than that...

All of this has made me reach this conclusion: I need to make a change immediately. There are a number of things I'll be doing, but here are three things that are relevant to the internet world specifically:

Howie's Convenience - Clean Up After Yourself! will continue as I planned before making this... post? monologue? snapping point? I'll let you pick. I will pick the voices for the characters in late July, record with the cast, and then animate the thing whenever I get a chance to do so when I'm not doing whatever I can do get myself out of this hole I dug.

I'm now only going to use social media to post things I want to post. That's it. No looking at what everyone else is doing and liking and sharing.

Twitter and YouTube are now considered cold turkeys. YouTube will only be used for when I'm uploading something to the site. My Twitter accounts will just not be used altogether and will be closed July 31st.

I know those of you who care about what I do might find it very sudden. It honestly is. I have a bad habit of putting things off on most days and then somehow finding the will in me to actually make a drastic step to change my life. With how I worded some of this stuff, you might come to the conclusion that I hate my audience or other people for just liking what they do and they don't match up with what I want them to like. I do not. I hate myself for even wanting to humor that notion. It's not my fault people just have different tastes and likes. It just means I should just keep drawing what I like in that moment and be proud of what I make.

I'll keep posting here on Tumblr to keep you updated on that Howie's Convenience project I've only just now told you about on this site (another bad habit) but for the most part, consider this post as me acknowledging the mistakes I've made and doing what I can to get out of it.

I'll be seeing you around.

Erin Strouder (HeyStrouder/AstroWonder98)