#sorry those posts were my last word on the subject and i said i wouldnt answer more anons

[impactrueno]

i wasn't sending you anons but guess you just like having someone to blame. lmao

there's no way you don't realize the irony of sending me this message anonymously

[violetnotez]

Actions Are Louder Than Words- Pro Hero! Deku x Reader

So Im currently StruGgling through a Bakugo fic rn, which Im so mad about...so here’s  a quick Deku rewrite of mine until I post that fic!

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2500+

Warnings: mentions of wounds

Summary: Izuku comes to your home mysteriously one night, injured and in his hero suit- and you’re the only one who can fix him up.

One Shot

(RULES |  MASTERLIST| REQUESTS OPEN!!! :))

For some reason, your room was extremely hot.

It made sense, in the middle of July, but you hated it. Your clothes stuck to your body like glue, making every movement feel sticky and humid.

You had decided to go to sleep at a late time, hoping that maybe when the sun went down, the coolness of night would suppress itself into your room.

You had opened up your window just a little to help with that, which brought the sounds of the city to your room. You were on the 4th level of your apartment complex, so the sounds weren’t so loud that you couldn’t stand it. You looked out, feeling a luke warm breeze, imagining your best friend, Izuku Midoriya, doing his daily hero rounds, that infectiously warm grin plastered on his face. You smiled to yourself.You secretly loved Izuku, every since he told you about One For All. The fact he trusted you with something so important, and finding out he was the one doing all those good deeds pushed your over the edge. You had began to like him before that moment, because of his sweet and respectful demeanor (not to mention he was extremely attractive), but you were in the awkward of stage of where you didn’t know where your heart stood. But now, it knew exactly where it wanted to be: standing next to Izuku.

You sighed, feeling reality sink in. Izuku would never go out with you, you thought.  Izuku was too good for you- you were his loyal best friend, nothing more, nothing less.

This thought made your chest throb, but you would get over heartache. You always did. 

You left the window open, the curtains billowing slightly in the warm breeze. You crawled into your sheets, feeling the soft cool of the material, knowing that they would soon turn warm due to your body heat. You thought, drowsy from staying up so late now,  that it would be best to go to sleep soon, and with that, a wave of slumber took over your body.

You felt as if you had slept for 10 minutes when you abruptly woke up to a loud crash in your room. You jumped up in your bed, feeling your shirt sleeve slip down from your sleep sluggish body. You looked around for the source of the noise, fear clawing your stomach in an iron grip. You almost screamed, but your throat closed in from terror. There was a dark outline of a body on the floor, looking like it jumped into your room from the open window. You stared at it, not believing what had just happened. Your eyes adjusted to the darkness, hearing the cars below you honk and the engines whir. 

You began spotting details: a gloved hand, red boots, teal fabric… “Deku?” You asked thickly, your voice sounding groggy from your nap.

The body pushed itself off the floor, laying itself against your dresser.The person sighed in relief, looking at you with huge eyes that glinted in the street’s warm light from below.

“Hi y/n,” the person chuckled nervously, the voice immediately soundly like Midoriya when he was flustered.

You heard a grimace in his voice as he grabbed his side.“Izuku!? Are you okay!?” you asked in shock, feeling way more awake than before. This was one of your worst fears- him getting hurt. It was bound to happen, with all the shady characters he’s always fighting, but you couldn’t bear the thought of Izuku getting attacked- or worse.

“Yeah Im fine- just- mmph- got a little scratch, nothing bad, Im fine...please don’t worry-.”

You jumped up , tearing the sheets away from you. You crouched next to Izuku, seeing the light scratches littering his face, illuminated from the streetlights below.

“If you were fine, you wouldnt be in my room.” you replied with a sad smile, trying to keep your voice down in order to not wake up your neighbors.

You freaked out inside- Izuku Midoriya was in your room, hurt, but in full hero gear. Izuku Midoriya. Had to be in your room. Your crush. You felt the heat rise in your face, cursing yourself for always acting like some love sick school girl around him.

“I’m sorry, you know I wouldn’t want to put you in any danger on purpose, its just I needed a quick escape, and I just saw that your window was open, so I-

”“Jumped  in?” you finished his sentence.

“Yeah- something like that,” he laughed quietly, looking slightly at the floor, but laughing seem to be too excruciating because he made another painful grunt.

“Izuku,” you pleaded, losing your weak joking manner, “what happened? Where are your hurt?”

“No, no, I’m fine!” he insisted, looking at you with fear, failing at convincing you.

You gave him a look that clearly showed you didnt believe a single thing that had just came out of his mouth.

“Izuku,” you told him sternly, “tell me. Please.”

“Im okay I swea-”

“I swear to God Izuku Mirdoriya if you say your ‘fine’, which your clearly not, I will call your mom.”

You knew the last person he wanted to drag into this was his mother, and you didn't want to either. She was a sweet woman, but extremely overprotective of Izuku, for all the right reasons. You knew Izuku didn’t want to worry her, and even though you felt a little guilty for being unable to tell his mom all the things she should probably know that happens to Midoriya, you couldn't bring yourself to break your unspoken promise. 

You didn’t want to play the “Mom” card on him, but you could tell Midoriya was in alot of pain- anything you could help him with, you were going to do it. Whether he admitted to it or not.

“No y/n, please,” Izuku said quickly, fear suffocating his voice. Guilt rose in your stomach, but you shoved it down as he asked, “you wouldn’t, right?”

“Izuku…” you sighed as you hugged your knees to yourself. You didnt want to- but there was a considerable difference between want and need.“You know I wouldn’t tell her unless I needed to- if your hurt only a little, we can fix it- but if you need medical attention, of course Im telling her. But for right now-if youll be quiet and let me help you-I wont say a word to her.” you added the last part as a slight joke, smiling so Izuku knew you weren’t trying to intentionally be mean.

 He chuckled, stating softly, “You always are the one that wants to fix me up.”

 “It’s what I do best,” you smiled.“Alrightie Deku-lets check the damage.”

 You quickly changed the subject, seeing that you had brought Izuku’s wall down and you could easily sneak in to get to what you needed to do.

Izuku sighed hesitantly, stilling holding his side. He raised his hand slowly, showing a cut in the side of his suit, the fabric fraying back. You gulped, suppressing panic, and this time, anger.Who could do this to Izuku? YOUR Izuku?

You quickly got up to reach for your nightstand, feeling Izuku’s eyes follow you. You grabbed your phone, bringing the flashlight to its brightest level. You were focused and nervous at the same time, your hands trembling at the thought of touching Midoriya.You sat back down in front of him, pointing the  light at his chest. You didn’t look at the angry gash across his chest, but at those big green eyes that somehow always make your heart stop beating.

“Is it-okay-if I….” you stumbled, nerves coming through thickly in your voice.

“Sure,” Midoriya replied an octave too high. He cleared his throat, trying again. “I mean-yeah yeah, go for it….”

You smiled to yourself, thinking how much of a cute dork Midoriya was, even when he was injured.

Even though Izuku was hurt, he could only focus on you. He felt comfortable with you, but extremely nervous. He never had a girl so close to him before, especially one he liked- the  “like like” kind. He hated himself for thinking it was a good idea coming into your room at 1 in the morning, dragging you into his problem, and the fact he was actually, in some ways, enjoying this- you giving him your full attention, the feeling of your hands brushing his skin- made him shiver in the best way possible.Your hand shook as you gingerly reached to pull back the ripped fabric on his chest, while the other held the flashlight as steady as you could.

“Tell me if I do anything to make it hurt, Kay?” You instructed. 

Izuku simply nodded, and you braced yourself for the worst.

Your expression was as if made of steel, determined and persistent.You gently drew the teal fabric away more , showing more skin. The slit of fabric was a clean one-it was hard to see what was under. All you could really make out was bruising and a cut-but couldn’t really assess the damage.

“I can’t see anything- the cut is too covered in the suit,” you exhaled as you moved away from Izuku, making him feel almost cold without your hand on his side.You looked at him, hoping he couldn’t see the red rising in your face. You had just thought of a solution to your problem, but didn’t know how Izuku would take it.

“So-I’m gonna grab a first aid kit- but I’m gonna need you to-um,” you cleared your throat, nerves coating your throat like a thick film, “I need to you to-take off.. the suit-“You wanted to kick yourself for actually saying this out loud. You sounded stupid! Asking him to take his suit off! This was too intimate, too weird for your relationship dynamic- but you secretly hated yourself more for wanting it to happen.

You panicked, trying to revise what you had just said, “You don’t have to take off the whole suit- just to your waist-you seriously don’t have to do this, I don’t even know why I said it, we could figure something else out-“

“I’ll do it,” He interjected quietly, looking straight at you, making your heart jump.

Izuku was terrified to say the least at the thought of showing his bare chest to you, but- he liked the feeling of your skin on his. It felt like such an adrenaline rush. He was intoxicated by the feeling- it was like everything was at peace with the world as his skin tingled with a charged energy he couldn't describe.

“It’s better if we do it like this,” he added, “If I have to go to a hospital, it’ll be all over the press tomorrow. I dont really care to see myself all beaten up on the news,” He smiled weakly, attempting at making the mood lighter so you wouldn't feel as nervous.. 

“Okay,” you exhaled, smiling back,  relieved Izuku didnt take anything you said the wrong way, “if you say so.”

You stood up, trying to avoid Izuku’s gaze.“I’m going to go get the first aid stuff, and you just-” You waved your hand around Izuku, motioning up and down at his body. “So- yeah,” you added in a nervous laugh, brushing your hair away from your face.

He smiled at your obvious flusteredness, grateful he wasn’t the only one.

Walking to your connected bathroom, your head swarmed with doubt.Maybe- this was a bad idea. Maybe he should go to the hospital- he could be really injured and you both would never know until it was too late. But… Izuku didn’t want anybody to know… and you promised you would help him until he needed actual medical attention. Worst comes to worst you could call All Might- he’d know what to do. Until then, you’d take care of Midoriya yourself.

You entered your bathroom, and rummaged in your cabinets until you found a white plastic case with a large red cross emblem on the front. You grabbed the handle, pulling it close to you and tiptoed out of the room, praying your neighbors didn’t hear you from the other side of the hallway.

Izuku was in the same position as you left him, except that his suit was gathered around his navel. You could make out Midoriya’s bare shoulder, a shadow in the dim glow of the streetlights below. You quickly looked down, feeling heat rise to your face, not knowing what to do.

You sat back next to  Midoriya, rummaging in the box, trying not to look at him. You never really thought of it, but  Midoriya was super fit. Like- to the point that you wondered how the hell someone could have so much muscle.  Midoriya was built extremely thin and lanky- how was that even possible?!

 Your cheeks instantly got redder.

“You alright?”  Midoriya asked sweetly, making your pulse jump up.

“Yeah, Im fine- actually I should be asking you that, youre the one with the injury,” you stated, trying to keep your voice under control as you looked for stuff- god, you were a mess right now.

“Im fine if youre fine,” he answered innocently, giving you a reassuring smile which made you think you couldnt love him even more- he was injured, and he was making sure you were okay.

God why was he such a good person?!

You gave a small smile thanking him.

”Thanks,” you said, as you tied your bed hair back.“Im sorry I cant turn on any lights, I just dont want my annoying neighbors complaining about me again, there honestly crazy…”

“Oh, youre good!” he whispered, “Just- thanks for doing this for me. You really dont have to do-”

“Midoriya, please, you literally cant walk.” you stated sarcastically, knowing full well Izuku could probably take the pain but you werent letting him go home over your dead body.

“Thats true,” he chuckled, wincing again from the pain. You went to touch him, not knowing what to do to leviate the pain- except, fix it.

“Alright, we need to see what’s wrong- ready?” you asked hesitantly, trying to sound strong.

Midoriya nodded his head, a determined look on his face.

“Ready.”

----------------

Requests open!!!

[adavenhaikyuu]

If The World Could Stand Still

Summary: 

Painfully familiar green eyes stared at him from across the hall. For a moment, Oikawa felt like he was dreaming, like one of those nightmares that’d leave him waking up in a cold sweat even as he mourned losing them to the daylight. Why was Iwaizumi here? And why did he have to be Oikawa’s new roommate?

“Hi, I’m Daichi,” the words broke him out of the green-eyed spell he’d been under, Iwaizumi looking away.

“Iwaizumi,” he bowed his head in greeting, eyes sliding back to a still frozen Oikawa. Daichi shifted next to him, shoulder gently bumping into his. “Do you two know each other?”

“We’re childhood best-”

“Yeah, we used to live near each other,” Oikawa cut Iwaizumi off, ignoring the frown his words earned. It wasn’t a lie and it’d been too long for them to still consider each other their best friend. Even if Oikawa’s heart ached at the thought.

Pairing: Iwaizumi/Oikawa

Chapters: 1/~

Word Count: 2238

Link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28072911/chapters/68776866#workskin 

“Don’t be dismayed at goodbyes. A farewell is necessary before you meet again. And meeting again, after moments or a lifetime is certain for those who are friends.” - Richard Bach

*************************

“Iwa-chan?”

“Yeah, Tooru?”

“Why does the sun have to rise?”

*************************

Rain drizzled from a dreary sky, splattering against the foggy window panes. Oikawa’s head lolled against the slightly chilled glass, his eyes flickering open as the last tendrils of sleep slipped away. A fuzzy haze still clouded his mind, the hour-long bus nap not nearly enough to make up for two sleepless nights. He groaned and pushed himself upright, shuffling his feet until they hit the duffle bag on the ground.

It wasn’t like he’d meant to stay up for so long. How could he have known a new hero would move into town? And the bastard had been such a pain too…

Oikawa huffed and pulled out his phone, swiping through the series of texts and social media updates in his notification bar. Clicking on the one from Kuroo, Oikawa leaned his head back against the glass, ignoring the way his ribs ached.

[Kuroo:] Sure ya dont need me to come today? You took a beating last night so I wouldnt mind helping you move your stuff in

[Oikawa:] I know better than to let your mangey paws get on my stuff

[Oikawa:] I lost two hats last time! Two!

[Kuroo:] You said you didnt like them!? I was helping, you cant still be mad

[Oikawa:] I can and am.

Snapping the phone closed, Oikawa let his eyes slip shut. That alley cat was dumber than he looked if he thought Oikawa would fall for that trick again. They’d been partners in crime for too long for it to still work. Besides, it wasn’t like Kuroo had gotten away from their encounter with Anzen, or whatever he was called, injury-free.

The damn bastard had already joined up with another hero when he'd confronted their infamous selves in a jewelry shop, ruining two weeks' worth of planning and leaving them both roughed up. The whole incident was made worse because half his injuries were a result of Oikawa getting distracted by how hot the new hero was. It wasn’t fair!

The bus squealed to a stop, ending any hopes he had of getting more rest. It was a good thing he’d already lost his roommate for the semester so he could crash after getting all his stuff in the dorm. The school had attempted to make him room with someone, something he highly opposed.

Oikawa didn’t want anyone else sharing his space, especially not the rando the university initially tried to stick him with. One text conversation with the guy and Oikawa was convinced he’d only ever used three-in-one shampoo and body wash. That wasn’t the sort of environment Oikawa needed to be living in, it’d be bad for his skin.

Plus having a roommate wasn’t exactly conducive to keeping his nightly escapades a secret.

Convincing his no-longer roommate to request a room switch had been child’s play compared to what he usually convinced people to do. The next two roommates the university had tried to throw at him had been similarly dealt with. Thankfully, they’d stopped trying after the third person requested out within the month since room assignments were sent out.

Oikawa had already sent most of his items to the dorm and he hefted the one duffle bag he’d brought with him as he stood, waiting his turn to exit the bus. Fresh air from the open doors swirled around him, clearing the mild ache in his head as he breathed in the damp wind. Slipping into the aisle, Oikawa held his duffle close and shuffled off the bus.

Rain dripped onto his head and a shiver passed up his spine at the chill. It was far colder than it should be for the end of summer. Looking up, Oikawa narrowed his eyes and breathed out, daring any more rain to fall on his perfectly styled hair.

Naturally, the rain obeyed.

Campus bustled with activity despite the rain. Students huddled under umbrellas with maps while their mom hovered over their shoulders and their dad held the boxes, slowly getting soaked. He grinned at the girls he passed, catching their reddening faces as he threw them a wink and a wave before carrying on toward his dorm. It never hurt to start the fan club early. The suspicious glares from their fathers made it all the funnier. One last bit of family drama before the child and parent parted ways.

Coming to a stop outside his new home, Oikawa fished out his phone. Throwing up a peace sign, he smiled and snapped a photo. It needed a filter, but it’d work for today’s Insta post. Typing up a quick caption, Oikawa posted the photo and re-pocketed his phone as he turned back to the stairs.

A shoulder knocked into him and Oikawa stumbled forward, hissing as it jostled his bruised side but catching himself before he could hit the stairs. The other guy wasn’t so lucky. Books tumbled out of the box he’d been carrying and spilled onto the wet stairs.

“Sorry!” The other guy said, already scrambling to pick up his fallen items. Rain continued to fall on the books, soaking into their pages despite the guy’s best efforts. Crouching down, Oikawa picked up the books nearest him and let the faint breeze dancing around him ruffle the damp pages.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” the guy said, coming to a stop in front of Oikawa. He was kneeling on the wet pavement (wasn’t he worried about his pants?) with his unboxed books filling his arms, not an umbrella in sight. Water dripped off his dark brown hair into his matching brown eyes making him look quite similar to the many dads he’d passed on his way here. Instead of handing the books back, Oikawa took a few more off the precarious pile, earning him a confused look which he repaid with a dazzling smile as he stood.

“Need some help?” he asked as the other guy also got to his feet.

“Yeah, thanks. I’m Daichi,” the guy bobbed his head in greeting, his own smile lighting up his face. Oikawa tilted his head, eyes taking in the rest of the fairly plain-looking guy.

“Oikawa.”

“Thanks, Oikawa, but I can take it from here." He gestured to the books Oikawa was holding. Glancing down at the wet cardboard box on the ground, he raised a brow. He really doubted the guy could handle it all. Well, his mother had always said one good deed would be repaid with another.

"I'm on the top floor anyway, so I can carry them if you want," he shrugged and readjusted the books so they were easier to hold. Daichi's eyes widened.

"That's where I'm going too. Maybe we'll live near each other," Daichi grinned and started up the stairs again in lieu of accepting his offer, Oikawa trailing behind him. A drop of rain hit his shoulder, an icy shiver crawling across his skin. Breathing out, Oikawa let a few more drops of rain fall on his clothes, a warm breeze dancing around him to keep out the chill.

He couldn't exactly walk in completely dry, could he? That’d be suspicious now that someone was paying attention to him. He already regretted offering to help.

The rain still didn't dare touch his hair.

“So what’s your major?” Daichi asked as they entered the lobby and made for the elevator. Pushing the button, Oikawa leaned against the wall and shrugged.

“History, you?” It’d been his best subject in high school, something Kuroo always complained about, and it gave him plenty of time to dedicate to research without people getting suspicious about what he was looking up. Plus, it didn’t require a lot of math classes. Even thinking about that subject made Oikawa shiver.

“Biology, I want to get into Vet school in a few years,” he smiled and Oikawa realized many of the books they were holding had to do with animal anatomy. Maybe he could convince Daichi to get him some medical supplies. That might make getting his jacket wet worth it.

The elevator dinged and slid open, both of them shuffling inside along with three other students, pushing Oikawa to the back corner near the window. He watched as the ground slowly fell away, the elevator bringing them higher and higher. They stopped two times before reaching the seventh floor, Daichi and Oikawa stepping out into their new shared hall.

“What’s your room number?” Oikawa asked. Daichi fumbled for his key, nearly losing several books off the stack.

“Seven-twenty-nine,” He said, reading off the tag attached to the key and straightening out the pile. Oikawa’s eyes widened.

“I’m seven-thirty,” they wouldn’t be suitemates he noticed while walking down the hall, odds and evens were on opposite sides, but they’d still be across-the-way neighbors. What a coincidence.

Their rooms were at the far end of the hall next to the smallest of the three study/recreation rooms on this floor. Oikawa recognized his boxes piled next to the end door on the right. A door that was suspiciously open.

Kuroo wasn’t moving in until tomorrow and he hadn’t told the alley cat his room number. He could have asked someone for help figuring it out but something in his gut told Oikawa it wasn’t Kuroo he could faintly hear moving around in the room.

Had the University really given him another roommate? So much for good karma after helping Daichi.

“Looks like your roommate is already here,” Daichi commented. Oikawa hummed and set the books down next to Daichi’s door. Readjusting the strap of his duffle bag, Oikawa whirled around and came face to face with the absolute last person he’d ever expected to see again.

*************************

“What do you mean?”

“Why does the sun have to rise? Why can’t we stay out under the stars forever?”

“Aren’t you afraid of the dark?”

*************************

Painfully familiar green eyes stared at him from across the hall. For a moment, Oikawa felt like he was dreaming, like one of those nightmares that’d leave him waking up in a cold sweat even as he mourned losing them to the daylight. Why was Iwaizumi here? And why did he have to be Oikawa’s new roommate?

“Hi, I’m Daichi,” the words broke him out of the green-eyed spell he’d been under, Iwazumi looking away.

“Iwaizumi,” he bowed his head in greeting, eyes sliding back to a still frozen Oikawa. Daichi shifted next to him, shoulder gently bumping into his.

“Do you two know each other?”

“We’re childhood best-”

“Yeah, we used to live near each other,” Oikawa cut Iwaizumi off, ignoring the frown his words caused. It wasn’t a lie and it’d been too long for them to still consider each other their best friend. Even if Oikawa’s heart ached at the thought.

“Ok-ay, well, I’m going to let you two talk. Thanks again for helping with my books,” Daichi smiled at the both of them and escaped inside his room. That’s all Oikawa wanted to do right now.

So much for his plan to catch up on sleep.

Oikawa ignored Iwazumi and picked up one of his boxes, moving past the other boy to enter his new room. It was decent sized, nothing extravagant. Two twin beds sat against opposite walls, dressers situated at their ends and two desks nestled side-by-side between them in front of the double windows. To the left of the door was a closet and to the right, a sink next to the door leading to the bathroom.

Iwaizumi’s things were already scattered on the right side of the room, so Oikawa made his way to the left dresser and set his box and duffle on top. He’d have to reevaluate where to put his gear now that he had a roommate. Especially since he didn’t think Iwazumi would be as easy to run off as the other guys.

Turning around, Oikawa once again found himself face-to-face with Iwaizumi. His heart leaped to his throat. Two boxes of his stuff were in Iwazumi’s arms, something Oikawa tried very hard to not look at. He knew his type and he knew who his type was based on. No reason to torture himself. Brushing past Iwazumi, Oikawa went to pick up the remaining box and bring it inside.

“Too-” Iwaizumi paused at the glare Oikawa sent him, “Oikawa...how’ve you been?” The question came out rushed like it wasn’t what he really wanted to say. Not like Oikawa cared what he wanted to say, his mere presence was enough to bring back the memories he’d buried long ago.

It wasn’t fair. Was this karma for his extracurricular activities? Why couldn’t he separate Iwaizumi from those thoughts? Why did it have to hurt looking at him and remembering everything that’d passed?

“I’ve been great, how about you?” Oikawa said, setting the box next to the sink, a bright and oh so fake smile lighting up his face. The green of Iwaizumi’s eyes dimmed as he easily accepted the lie as truth.

Oikawa didn’t know if he should be relieved or cry.

*************************

“You make the nighttime safe, Iwa-chan.”

“But the sun still needs to rise, Tooru, you know that. Why don’t you want it to?”

“It’s not the dark I’m afraid of anymore…”

[thepoliticalpatient]

RBG’s death all but guarantees the loss of the ACA

Last night was almost as hard and scary as election night, for me.

I will try to keep this brief as I can and so will be focusing on the impact of RBG’s death on healthcare policy in the US. Her death is a tragedy in many other ways, of course. She was a groundbreaking and iconic figure in the judiciary. She was forced to continue working through numerous illnesses and on her deathbed because she was in the position of serving as a 5′1″ human barrier between our already terrible reality and a much more terrible one. and And of course, her death will have numerous awful political consequences in subjects outside of healthcare. I will not be touching on any of that here. I’m sorry, I know it’s incredibly gross to move straight into the politics so fast, but there are millions of lives on the line and we have no time to lose!

The case against the ACA, now called California v. Texas, will start oral arguments on November 10, one week after the election. I have already written a number of posts on the background of this case - this one explains the basis for the case, and this one describes how the lower court has already ruled.

Obviously none of us can tell the future, but before RBG’s death, most folks were pretty optimistic about this case working out in favor of the ACA 5-4. All 5 justices who ruled in favor of the ACA in one of its previous challenges, NFIB v. Sebelius, were still on the court. Obviously this has now changed.

So the case will be heard starting on November 10. From there we should probably expect it to take months to come to a decision. Let’s talk about scenarios:

Trump and Senate Republicans manage to force through a nominee before the election

We all remember 2016 when McConnell refused to hold hearings for the nomination of Merrick Garland to SCOTUS because it was an election year. That seat was stolen by Neil Gorsuch after Trump’s election.

Surprising nobody, McConnell is a hypocrite. RBG’s body was still warm yesterday when he started politicking, releasing a statement indicating that he intends to fill the seat before the election.

If he succeeds, then of course the ACA’s chances are very slim of surviving a challenge in a 6-3 majority conservative SCOTUS.

We delay the confirmation until after inauguration

There is a nonzero possibility that this confirmation can be delayed until the new president is elected and inaugurated.

Republicans have a 53-47 majority in the Senate right now; they need 50 votes to approve a SCOTUS justice (Pence breaks ties).  Prior to RBG’s death, several sitting Senate Republicans stated that they would oppose voting on a nominee during the 2020 election year in order to be consistent with what they did in 2016. Take for instance this absolutely chef kiss video of Lindsey Graham:

https://twitter.com/vanitaguptaCR/status/1307153104941518848

I want you to use my words against me. If there’s a Republican president in 2016 and a vacancy occurs in the last year of the first term, you can say Lindsey Graham said let’s let the next president, whoever it might be, make that nomination.

Other Republican Senators who have made similar statements:

Lisa Murkowski: https://www.alaskapublic.org/2020/09/18/alaska-senator-murkowski-said-friday-she-would-not-vote-for-a-justice-ahead-of-election/

Chuck Grassley: https://thehill.com/business-a-lobbying/410686-grassley-says-judiciary-panel-wouldnt-consider-supreme-court-nominee-in

Susan Collins?: https://twitter.com/jmartNYT/status/1307112333253148672

Mitt Romney? Mixed signals. There’s this, https://twitter.com/JimDabakis/status/1307120855454044160, but his staff denies it: https://twitter.com/LJ0hnson/status/1307129082971385858

Sorry my sources aren’t better on some of these; this is all I’ve got right now. We will have to listen to what these 5 say over the next few days. We only need 4 of them to vote no. If any of them conveniently “change their minds” they will probably cite McConnell’s logic that this year is somehow different because Obama was a lame duck in 2016. Susan Collins and Lindsey Graham in particular might be pressurable because they’re both facing very tough challenges for their seats this year. We should keep the pressure on by pledging donations to their opponents, Sara Gideon and Jaime Harrison, in the event that they make the hypocritical decision to approve a nominee less than 2 months before an election.

I know we can’t trust these people as far as we can throw them but we have to try. What other choice do we have?

Another factor here is the special election in AZ. Martha McSally was appointed to John McCain’s seat after his death, after she previously lost her election against Kyrsten Sinema. She is being challenged this year by astronaut Mark Kelly, who is polling very well. If he wins, because of special election rules, he could be sworn in as early as November 30, reducing the Republican majority in the Senate well ahead of inauguration day.

McSally has already stated that she will vote for a nominee before the election: https://twitter.com/SenMcSallyAZ/status/1307123253845032960

Unfortunately, merely delaying the confirmation of a new justice won’t be enough to save the ACA

The situation is every bit as bad for the ACA against an 8 justice court as it would be against a court with a new conservative justice. In the case of a 4-4 tied decision, the lower court’s decision holds. And the Fifth Circuit’s ruling was that the fate of the ACA should be left to district judge Reed O’Connor, a far-right activist judge who already ruled that the entire ACA should be thrown into the garbage.

The only hope it has is if we both delay the confirmation of a new judge, elect Joe Biden, elect a Senate that will not be hostile to his nominee, and get that nominee through, all before the case is decided. The case will begin with oral arguments on November 10.

A legislative salvation for the ACA?

If we get control of both branches of Congress and the presidency, there is a very easy way to save the ACA. The entire case is null and void if we reinstate the individual mandate’s tax at any amount over $0. A $1 tax would save it. A Democratically-controlled Congress could pass such legislation with a simple majority.

But maybe we should just let it die?

Some members of the left seem to think it’s not such a big deal if the ACA goes under. Their argument is that without the ACA, the case for Medicare for All will become more urgent. They don’t care about the chronically ill and disabled people who will die without protections in the meantime. And besides that, what chance does M4A have of surviving a 6-3 conservative SCOTUS? The fucking ACA, as insufficient and centrist as it is, has been challenged mercilessly in the courts by conservatives. This is the third major SCOTUS case they’ve brought against it. M4A would fare no better. In fact, we can expect to say goodbye to any possibility of keeping any progressive policy within our lifetimes under a 6-3 conservative SCOTUS.

So what do we do?

For now, we put the pressure on Murkowski, Grassley, Graham, Collins, and Romney. If you live in AK, IA, SC, ME, or UT, call their offices every damn day until they commit to voting no on any judge nominated before Inauguration day.

Phone numbers:

Murkowski: (202) 224-6665

Grassley: (202) 224-3744

Graham: (202) 224-5972

Collins: (202) 224-2523

Romney: (202) 224-5251

For folks who do not live in those states, pressure your Republican Senators even if it it seems hopeless, and make a lot of noise about donating to the above 5′s opponents if they vote yes. Volunteer to phone or text bank to ask constituents in those 5 states to call those Senators. There’s still plenty you can do.

Then we must do everything we can to elect Joe Biden and a Democratic Senate. Vote on November 3. Phone or text bank for Biden. Adopt a Senate race in a swing state here: https://votesaveamerica.com/adopt-a-state/

If they push a nominee through, it’s time to pack the courts

If they’re going to change the rules on us and confirm a SCOTUS justice in an election year, then we will change the rules on them the minute we get power.

Adding more justices to SCOTUS does not require a Constitutional amendment. It can be done through legislation, and it has been done many times before:

1789-1807: six seats

1807-1837: seven seats

1837-1866: ten seats

1866-1867: nine seats

1867-1869: eight seats

1869-present: nine seats

Even the threat of opening the door to court packing might be enough to convince some Senators not to move forward with this scheme.

But again, in order to pack the court, we need to elect Joe Biden, flip the Senate, and keep the House.

Let’s get to work.

[acosmiccomedian]

OK long ass Hollowknight post because I've been thinking about this for actual days now

So this is gonna be a long ass splurge and all but bare with me here, I'm writing this up as a timeline from hallownests sort of beginning up to where the Pale king would show up based on all the lore my nerd ass consumed from obsessive playthroughs

So, in the beginning hallownest was split into 7 sort of kingdoms, but only 5 "Higher beings" existed, and we will start with them

The first is Unn, the Verdant god of leaf and vine, taking up her place within green path and what would become the queens gardens as her territory, her mosskin held to a sort of traditional kingdom structure, with knights and priests and other such stations

The second is what would become the Radiance, her peaceful tribe of moths taking their residence within and on the crystal peak and what would later become the resting grounds, her subjects linked via their dreams in a sort of communal intelligence

The third is the White lady, and while there's nothing that explicitly would say so, I personally believe she originated in the cavern that would become the city of tears, the pale god of root thriving in the endless downpour.

The fourth is likely the King of Deepnest, who may have been known as the Blackwyrm but that's speculation as well, either way the king and queen of Deepnest held strong in their own section of the world, their kin described as among the most intelligent of bugs on their own.

The fifth and final "higher being" was Vespa, queen of the Hive, her subjects unified in a hive mind with her at its head, creating a great civilization in their own right.

While not lead by higher beings, 2 other civilizations came to be during this era of hallownest,

The shrumal, a fungal kingdom of a truly communal intelligence. Larger shrumal having larger portions of this communal mind, with smaller ones having less, but all were truly connected and communicated via the prevalent spores throughout the wastes and what would become the waterways, feasting on the runoff and waste of the other civilizations above them.

Then was the final and most obscure kingdom I only really refer to as "the ancient caste" or "Void kingdom" who did not devote to any higher being or communal sense but instead worshipped the very darkness within the bowels of the world, the Void. This kingdom likely originated in the ancient basin or potentially within the abyss although that seems unlikely.

(Its sorta worth mentioning that kingdoms edge may have been ruled by the lord fool even at this time but there's nothing saying he didn't come later either or that he was a higher being or anything)

For some time at least, these 7 disparate civilizations remained in a stable lock-step. All keeping to their own spheres of power.

The Ancient caste, likely as a result of the all-consuming nature of the very force of nature they worshipped, one day shattered this stasis by seeking to expand their dominion across the whole of hallownest, their knowledge of the Void and Soul giving them an edge against the bugs they would face, but they faced 2 major obstacles right away: Deepnest and the Hive.

I base this on the prevalence of soul-totems, which we know through lemm are the work of this kingdom, throughout hallownest, of which few to none existed within these locations. However they were able to push up through the Shrumal kingdom, the shrumal not being as fierce or strong in any was as the beasts of Deepnest or the Hive.

Once through there, it's likely the White lady wouldnt have put up much resistance to their expansion, potentially even letting them through without resistance as she is a fairly passive entity and many of the totems can be found within this cavern even when it becomes the city of tears.

Circumventing the hive the ancient caste sought to go under it, reaching as far out as the caverns beneath where the nailmaster would eventually take up residence.

However their progress upwards continued strong, pushing into the leafy groves of Unn, but her kin resisted with much more force than could be said of the moth tribesmen.

The pacifistic moths would likely have been as lambs to the slaughter before this all-consuming army, eventually forced to beg the Radiance herself to save them. (Keep in mind this is heavily speculative, but I base this on the Radiance recognizing the Knight, a being of void, as an "Ancient enemy", and the word ancient is used most often in reference to this kingdom).

The radiance would have brought victory, blazing a path through hallownest and shattering the Ancient caste's civilization, driving them to obscurity into the abyss.

The Raduance herself however was greatly affected by this, I believe she was so injured from the fighting that her physical form was "killed" forcing her to retreat into the Dream-realm, giving her followers the final command "Remember Light". The moths would build the statue at hallownests crown and seek to further unlock the secrets of the dream realm as a result of this, eventually crafting the dream nail. This is also likely when the first moths began to take up arms, although still few would do so.

So at this point hallownest was in a sorry state, the Radiance was more or less dead, Unn would have been severely weakened from the fight and retreated to her lake to recover, and the White lady was further isolated within her forest of root (probably), the Shrumal had lost a great deal of Biomass. Both Deepnest and the Hive however were in fairly good shape and could have even expanded, but for the wisdom of Vespa and the King of beasts to not expand beyond what they could reasonably control.

It was during this time period then that the Pale King would arrive. Whether he knew the weakened state of the kingdom or not, there was no other power that could or would resist his sudden arrival and rapid expansion of the lesser insects that lived within Hallownest, those that may have been overlooked by the other higher beings and their tribes suddenly had minds with which to think, and all were drawn to his immense power and pale light.

The White lady, also a Pale being, would be taken for his Queen and the cavern she inhabited would become the City of Tears, and She would be gifted the Queens garden area as a personal retreat, further Weakening Unn and assuring her Gradual fade from power.

The moths, Seeing this new, more bright light forgot the radiance, Sealing her away and devoting themselves to the Pale king (if you want to blame anyone for the infection, its them).

The subjects of Unn, weakened and no longer in contact with their god, yielded to the king, but maintained their devotion to her.

The shrumal also yielded to him, believing his Prescience able to shield them from yet another catastrophic war in which so much of them would die.

Deepnest and the Hive utterly rejected the new King, Deepnest going so far as to go to War with the king when he attempted to expand into the territory, while the Hive merely cut themselves off entirely.

The Mantis tribes also resisted, but struck a deal with the King to guard against invasion from deepnest in exchange for their Independence.

The Pale king built his palace away from the city, in the Ancient basin, likely to keep an eye on the Abyss and to grant himself the privacy to devote to his own projects.

And thus came the Era of the kingdome of Hallownest, the Pale King controlling and Leading the vast majority of the region into a sort of Golden age, which would last until an experimental mining operation in search of a possible new energy source would infect the mind of one miner with the Image of the Radiance, her light distorted and Angry after being forgotten, sprung forth as the plague and brought the Kingdom to ruin.

[miraculous-writings]

sh

This will be my last message to you. You have the poorest interpreted skill I’ve met. What I was saying in my post was how brave some writers were to address r*pe issue in their works, and it was not a bad thing to include them because it gave the fiction world more variety. I’m sorry but the world is not black and white like you see, it’s gray, it’s ugly, it’s cruel and it’s dirty but what these writers do is they see beauty among the dark and they try to describe how the characters break free from those traumatic situations and move on. Instead of facing this issue, you just run away from it and label everything with the tags r*pe bad and disgusting, you’re bashing everything that involved with it. To be honest I felt sorry for the majority of writers out there who can not live up to your expectations, who only want the Hajishun tag to be as clean as a snow. Your attitude is what tear this fandom apart, no writer deserves to be called garbage because of what they write for their fav cp. And instead of accepting that, you boyscott the fics like they’re some kind of disease. Lastly, stay out of my tumblr as I’ll do to yours and leave people’s fics alone.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Funny how you wanna insult my interpretation skills when you can’t even write/type in proper fucking english, your grammar is as bad as a fucking grade schooler’s. 

No, it’s not “brave” to post r*pe. R*pe is not variety. There is no beauty in r*pe or in anything that happens with it. There is no beauty in being traumatized and having to work your entire life to try and deal with it. There is no beauty in it, and you are a fucking disgusting swine for even implying that. People can write characters moving on from traumatic situations fine but there is absolutely 0 reason for anyone to ever write the actions out. And frankly if you’re just writing them moving on from it then chances are it wouldnt even need to be tagged, it may not even need to be brought up at all. 

There’s a difference between running away and just plain knowing better. I have been through it countless times. I have PTSD from it. I know how to handle the situation, and I know when and how to approach the subject. 90% of people who write r*pe have never gone through it and romanticize all the aftereffects and trauma as if its nothing and you can just move on after a month or because you found a new S.O. and it somehow ~*erases everything that ever happened*~

I 100% guarentee you no matter who wrote it, it was not accurately depicted, and was only used as some unimaginative conflict for the story bc u just couldnt come up with anything better. 

My expectations, especially for this fandom where the majority of the writers first language isn’t english, is VERY low. All I expect is a semi-readable fic without r*pe or assualt. And if it does have it, at least tag it. 

Many people didn’t tag their SA’s, and then over half the fics are all r*pe. I don’t care about any excuse you give, it’s never necessary. Especially for a fandom like Tsukiuta. 

Also, I’m not boycotting anything. Never was. Still not. Never will. Because like I said, people can write what they want. The same way I can complain about what I want. You are just idiotically and mindlessly putting words into my mouth. 

I’m still gonna be severely disgusted and dissappointed in the fandom. And I’m allowed to say that on my own blog. Especially since I hadn’t even tagged anything. You know on a post on my own blog where I’m allowed to post whatever I want, all negative opinions, even if it hurts your little r*pe fic loving feelings. I don’t care. 

Also BITCH I DON’T EVEN WANNA BE ON YOUR TUMBLR I NEVER FOLLOWED YOUR SHITTY ASS ACCOUNT IVE NEVER EVEN READ A SINGLE ONE OF YOUR DAMN SHITTY FICS I DIDNT EVEN KNOW YOU HAD AN ACCOUNT UNTIL YOU FOLLOWED ME TWICE JUST TO GET MY ATTENTION SO I WOULD SEE YOUR PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE POST!!!!!! YOURE LITTERALLY!!! SO FUCKING PETTY AND ANNOYING YOU MEAN NOTHING TO ME JUST FUCK OFF!!!

[cs-discourse]

here we go

https://cs-discourse.tumblr.com/post/179953845684/uuuuwuu-every1-whos-concerned-abt-biased-judging

ok this attitude has been pissing me off long enough that it's time for one of my Big Ole Posts (tm) about how shitty this is! thanks. 

uuuuwuu every1 whos concerned abt biased judging in comps is just soooow entitled !!!1 i cant bewieve ppl wouldnt want some1 whos literally explicitly stating at this point that they trust their friends more to "demonstrate dedication to the character" they assign to a design to b an influence in judging comps !!!!!11 bc artists Never weigh in on other artist's comps, so obviously thes ppl just want fwee merc designs !!!1!!1 also my last braincell just died pleas h

so here's the og post in question for quick reference

i honestly have no idea why people keep bringing up this idea of bias in judging competitions because, while i do think there is a type of bias that certainly exists, i think a lot of so-called "bias" that people have is ... not whatsoever like what people think it is lol. artists are people and there's always going to be SOME kind of bias no matter what you do, because it's literally fuckin impossible to NOT be biased. by that i mean:

your taste in plots/types of characters/medias influence your judging

quality of writing or art can influence your judging

the person who's applying for the adopt you may have previous judgement about

even if you say you aren't biased, you STILL have preferences and tastes in things that you prefer more than others, which in of itself is a kind of bias

people who know you (friends for example) will naturally know what your taste is. 

a competition is judged based on what form the artist thinks is best, right? 

NEWSFLASH EVERYONE'S IDEA OF "WHAT'S BEST" IS DIFFERENT FROM PERSON TO PERSON ..... "BEST" is literally the most subjective thing there is, and while i agree that there are certain aspects of art and writing that you can use as objective measurements of tangible skill, it's... still subjective. what people think is "best" will vary from person to person because we all have different tastes. so, essentially, this boils down to the idea that the winner of an adopt competition will ALWAYS be the form the artist liked best, because that is what the artist perceives as best. so like. when people appear biased in adopt competitions towards friends or certain circles, it's probably because they're literally friends because they have similar tastes in things, and therefore the form the artist likes best is naturally going to be from someone who shares similar tastes. 

so whenever i hear about """bias""" in competitions i just kind of roll my eyes tbqh because it's usually followed by complaints of "BUT I PUT IN SO MUCH EFFORT" or "I WROTE SO MUCH MORE THAN THE WINNER" uhhhh. if adopt contests were won by effort alone it wouldn't be a contest, it'd be an endurance test lol. literally just "who has the most time to waste writing out 60000k words of absolute meaningless fluff"... because, i hate to break it to you, but ANYONE can write 5000 words of mindless drivel that has literally no substance to it. 

now in caps for emphasis. takes a deep breath

THERE IS NO SKILL NEEDED TO BLOAT YOUR WORD COUNT. 

YOU DO NOT NEED TO KNOW HOW TO WRITE WELL TO WRITE 5000 WORDS.

YOU JUST NEED TO KNOW HOW TO TYPE AND PUT SENTENCES TOGETHER.

quality > quantity, always. like, i'm sorry you put in so many hours of effort but, those people who win with MUCH smaller wordcounts... did they not work to get as good as they did with writing? you put in 5 hours into one tryout. but others, take me for example: i have been writing for over 10 bloody years. i've worked hard to improve my writing, so you can't tell me i "didn't put in as much effort" as you because i did. i put in YEARS of work to get better so doing simple things would take me LESS time now. inb4 IT'S UNFAIR! dude, the literal definition of a contest is for the best to win. it wouldn't be a contest if it wasn't like that lol. it'd just be charity. what you should be doing instead of complaining about it is ASKING FOR CRIT and WORKING TO IMPROVE like a good sport? i get that it's discouraging but you should be prepared to lose when you join a contest. it's valid to be upset about but the moment you say you deserve it more than others JUST because of your effort, then i have a problem. 

and you know, there's gonna be times where i think a comp winner is objectively less skilled than other tryouts. honestly i just kind of shrug that off on account of different taste lol. sometimes that's just how it be, bc of those predetermined biases i mentioned before, and maybe a judge and i are just in completely stages of life so what i call quality might not appeal to the judge. that's also fine. anyway this really got off on a tangent but i'm leaving it in bc i think it needs saying. back to the og post

 > i cant bewieve ppl wouldnt want some1 whos literally explicitly stating at this point that they trust their friends more to "demonstrate dedication to the character" they assign to a design to b an influence in judging comps !!!!!11

wtf didn't i address this in a different post

here let me link it for you

https://cs-discourse.tumblr.com/post/179841459154/post179838988303-the-difference-is-that-you-have

which was replying to this: https://cs-discourse.tumblr.com/post/179838988303/179837734509-idk-anon-i-kinda-agree-with-the

i said it once but i'll say it again: artist entries aren't main adopts lol. people don't work for artist entries. all you fucking do is post on one like "can i have this pls" .. there is... no effort put into that lol. main adopts you WORK for. it's a CONTEST. claiming an artist entry is NOT a contest. if a bunch of little nasty gremlins come running up to me like a hungry horde trying to be the first one to claim my design, i think giving friends first pick is COMPLETELY FINE, BECAUSE WHAT DID ANYONE ELSE DO TO "DESERVE" THAT DESIGN? nothing. you did. nothing. you're literally coming here with this attitude that NOT GIVING THINGS AWAY TO STRANGERS FOR FREE SOMEHOW EQUALS BIAS? i literally do not understand your logic whatsoever. like. i'm trying really fucking hard. at least with main adopts the "payment" is the effort you put in trying to answer the artist's prompt. i know i sound super dumb repeating myself but i don't know how much simpler i can make this concept tbh

and this is EXACTLY why i say ya'll are fucking entitled because merc and any of the kal artists could be making REAL $$$$ selling their own designs and adoptables and art and NOT deal with all the bs ya'll throw at them. they're literally here because the ENJOY MAKING ((( FREE ))) CONTENT for you, and they're not obligated to do this. they can stop whenever they want. if you had to pay per hour for the length of time collectively worked by ANY species artist staff, the lot of you would be fucking broke. i'm actually constantly shocked that species artists work like, 8 hours or more on some of these gorgeous designs just to give them away for free in a contest. 

so, yeah, as someone who hasn't spent my entire life on CS (i've only been here for a year and a half), ya'll seem pretty fucking entitled to me lol. the world outside CS rarely gives out such gorgeous designs in write-to-adopt contests so i'm honestly baffled at the amount of bloody entitlement i see

>bc artists Never weigh in on other artist's comps, so obviously thes ppl just want fwee merc designs !!!1!!1 

this part i don't actually understand what you mean. do you mean they... help judge other comps? or like, enter them? i don't get what you mean by "weigh in" but listen, lol. just because something DOES happen doesn't mean it gives you a good reason to assume the worst. i mean... of course it happens. it's statistically impossible for skewed contests and bias to NOT happen, because there's always going to be cases of it happening. but like, what proof do you have that merc will be biased lol? like, real proof? because your main point i've basically debunked and don't believe in at all. do better than "i cant bewieve ppl wouldnt want some1 whos literally explicitly stating at this point that they trust their friends more to "demonstrate dedication to the character" they assign to a design to b an influence in judging comps !!!!!11" because this doesn't make any sense to me for the reasons i already listed above lmao. if artist entries were supposed to be contests they'd be contests. what the hell makes you important enough to get first dibs on a stranger's work. ARTIST ENTRIES AREN'T EVEN MADE TO BE GIVEN AWAY, THEY'RE MADE AS ARTIST ENTRIES.... LIKE.... JESUS i struggle to understand ya'll

anyway im done here, if you wanna actually talk and debate this hmu on discord at lysander#9229 bc if you actually talk to me instead of spew this hot mess on the blog i might actually listen to you and change my mind and be nice about it instead of being a condescending bitch. 

wait one more thing

>also my last braincell just died pleas h

yea clearly

p.s., why do you ppl keep going to the blog to give critique on merc's designs when on literally every other design merc makes there's this:

https://www.chickensmoothie.com/Forum/viewtopic.php?f=38&t=3950980

here i even linked it for you. idk why it's so hard for yall to give constructive crit like decent human beings

[strawberryspeachy]

Also im sick of obnoxious japanese eaters

Things ive found out are myths here

1) everyones nice.

No. Everyone smiles hard to cover up whatever assholery theyre doing - if theyre supposed to be nice to you. Public people are the same as usual... except theres alot more shoving

2) everything about school

They don’t pay for school. Its free. Just like ours. Except private school. Just like ours

They are not MORE overworked in school nor do they study more. Their rules are much loser. And just like the states, teachers have no real authority- but unlike the states - the students do not fear repercussions. They can be touched though but thats more because japanese people think its fine to touch each other a lot - ya know. Just dont hug as an adult - but all other invading of some kind of private bubble is fine

3) SLURPING No thats not just a “it shows you love the food!” Bs. Just like the states, the people you hear disgustingly slurping just eat loud and are gross... imo... people here dont seem to think its gross but far more people eat like civilized humans and dont slurp everything from solids to actual liquids.

K like every time the past two days ive had to be near people slurping their fucking food and as a person who HATES hearing people eat... its why im bitching here. LETTUCE DOES NOT NEED SLURPED

4) just anything they call “culture” they used a pretty word to cover for “thats just the dumb thing we do here” its literally like if we said aggressively speed driving and cutting people off is new yorkers culture

Japan has a lot of history and traditions. But mostly they have a lot of bs that theyre just too stubborn to acknowledge and change so they lable it culture. Any changes they make are pretty much like when my great grandmother got a cell phone.

She only turned it on to charge it and make a phone call - leave a voicemail saying that she called - and then would turn it back off. It wasnt ever even on long enough for her to need to charge it.

But in her mind no one could complain that she didnt have one. And the only emergency in her mind was her needing to call you - not vice versa. She wouldnt use it for any other purpose and generally resented its existence. She hated watching anyone else use their cell phones to check the time or take pictures or play games or have lenthy conversations.

Yea. Thats basiclly japan with everything new. They have it. But they dont use it , and its possibilities scare them so the old ppl say its not allowed to be used unless the old people need to use it

Sorry man i hate everywhere i am. My aparment is next to a bar that looks permanently closed during the day. I had no clue it was there till after i moved in and the loud karaoke blared into my window every damn night

My train line is a nightmare and if you wanna see the worst japanese people can be. Ride the train during rush hours

My post office is far away and they refuse to ring my doorbell when i have a delivery and instead just leave slip - if you dont hike over in their made up time period they throw your stuff away

No one will actually help you with serious stuff. They just smile and say sorry and run away — customer service. Yea. Not customer service. They could just as easily be a manican with a smiley face - itd serve the same purpose.

Theres too much paperwork constantly all the time about everything

Nothing is online

Another thing that prompted me for this “this is japanese chocolate”

Cool. I got that its japanese. Im in japan. Everything people point out for me “its japanese____” fucking imagine if we felt the need to point out every damn item as “american” in the states. Why? What is the meaning of this?

They gave me a table to sit at at this school. A table. That they make lunch on and put all their supplies on. A dude just kicked my chair as he came over for some shit. Why am i sitting at a table? Very very few japanese people ive worked with dont make me feel like an adopted pet dog that theyre not sure if itll bite. Dog. Not new person. They literlly have the children fetch me...

And ive grown so so very tired of being asked questions with the intention of having me overhype japan while maintaining that im so stupid that i know absolutely nothing about the country

98% of japanese people assume that you think of japan like youve never even heard of their country before arriving and that you just arrived two days ago

Also. Maybe they think their test scores and clases are so much more difficult because they cant seem to fathom that most other countries schools function the same way as theirs

Yesterday a teacher said “ah theyre so overworked. They have alot to remember” i thought she was about to tell me how many units were on their exam or something... no “english, japanese, science, math, history, pe, food class, art! Too many things. Theyre very overworked”

..... are you for real? Im pretty sure every fucking school has those subjects if you switch out japanese for the countries native language.... this is NORMAL

Im sorry. I know the reason anyone talking to me like this might not like me. Cause im not gonna go WOWWW SUGEII?!?!? So much stuff!! Poor them!

No. Yeah? Thats school...

Look im not an asshole to my kids. If they can manage to tell me any information about their life in english or simple japanese i can translate - i act surprised/ or am if their english is super good.

But adults... no man. Learn some stuff about the outside world. Youre not specifical

Also dating boys here is just like back home except they wont block you and they respond less

Instead of getting “nice” “oh” “idk” and “maybe” as there fading messages - they just leave you on read. Or give you some random information that you didnt ask about that has no relevance to the ‘convo’

Also also. “Speak slow” they dont say this in a ‘my english is not good so speak slower’ way. They say this in a ‘i felt really good about my english until you spoke at a normal pace and my classes and ass-kissing white dudes have taught me that enlgish is spoken slow and percisely so if you dont speak with a japanese accent, your fast english is wrong’

Whatever but like... could you return the favor by speaking japanese slowly. Speak it the way you want me to speak english....

Telling them to speak slow results in something like

... nihon..de〜 nan mabdnshsnabsjsnjsbshssnbsjsbsjshsh ka?

Woah ok... something in Japan... couldnt catch the rest of that

Id be more understanding of this. Its hard to speak slow. Lets both acknowledge this and not - teachers compalining to principals and boys... (1) sending me a fucking video on how to speak my own damn language properly

Also. Do you know how upsetting it is to listen to a student say something perfectly but before i get to praise them - have the japanese teacher jump in and “correct” them...... no no dude please. I know youll have a fucking meltdown if i say no your ways wrong. But now this student is so confused desperately staring at me positive theyre correct and all ive come up with to do is smiling and nodding at them while repeating the way they said hoping the japanese teacher wont notice/get offended

Also togo food... if its not american fast food... generally you cant take it to go... its sad. I have no friends. I just wanna take this home to eat in front of my tv. This isnt serious. Its just a minior inconvenience

Also joking... my japanese isnt good enough to joke. And... idk how... cant explain. The other day a student asked whats my favorite food

And another went hamburger?!? Mcdonalds!!?

I wanted to comment.. but. At least elementary students understand sarcasm. Their teachers dont. And whether the middle schoolers understand and just dont care is up in the air.

Oh! And. I was right last week when i didnt trust my teachers saying that the obvious bullying was just a misunderstanding and the obvious targets fault. Another straight up teacher said some kids have left the school because of bullying and theyre really awful when left alone in the rooms... i told him thats why we cant go unsupervised in america. Japan says the students are just perfect upstanding citizens, so much more caring and mature than other students. Nope. Middle schoolers will be middle schoolers no matter what country.

[crown-eater]

A maze of pain and insane fantasies

Over the course of the past week, ‘Choly had been making a genuine effort to start moving into Cecil’s apartment beyond simply leaving a few belongings here and there as he came and went. Things hadn’t quietened down on the Bell front, but his landlady had served him yet another "final notice” that felt more ominously terminal than the others that had come before it. So between acclimating to his metagenesis and running errands for Bell, Chalcedony, and the Tellurides, he had found himself doing his best to at least scavenge the important things.

Like the leg lamp.

The leg lamp caused a huge fuss, and it ended up in the garbage at least twice. Cecil hated the thing, but it was one of ‘Choly’s most cherished possessions, one of the few things he felt his mother’s hoarding habits had yielded to benefit. He had no idea why it existed, or what cultural significance it might have had, but it was his and he loved it. Ultimately the lovers had to agree to disagree, and the leg lamp moved around the apartment as Cecil repeatedly disowned it. ‘Choly always returned it to the side-table beside the daybed he’d taken for his own.

'Choly had a sizable collection of physical copy novels, including his most prized possessions Roadside Picnic and Crash, the former of which being a nearly verbot relic and thrill token, a tangible piece of Quarter history. But, the stack of roughly a dozen novels paled as child’s play compared to the walls of Cecil’s apartment so densely lined with bookshelves that he also used them as sectional dividers. Cecil had been spelunking to rescue books since childhood, and he cultivated two very different collections from the life’s work: one at the physical copies wing of the library, a good third of it his own additions, and a second at home. His private collection was comprised of books which catered to his own personal interests, including many books too damaged to donate or too controversial to air in public.

Unprecedented for ‘Choly was the experience of a good Wi-Fi signal in a private setting. Cecil had left ‘Choly to the task of unpacking a couple of boxes while Cecil went to work for the day, and once ‘Choly felt like he had gotten sufficient progress, he treated himself to Web surfing unabated.

The notification sound of his chat app startled him, and at first he was disgruntled because an unfamiliar username was messaging him.

9augen: hey you havent been posting very much lately

9augen: everything all right?

9augen: this is rev by the way

«There you are, you stupid ghoul,» he thought to himself. «So you went silent for over a month and came back with a new username. Clever.»

ketherphorbia: *i* haven’t been posting much lately?

ketherphorbia: welcome back to the land of the living

9augen: not quite

9augen: i was just wondering. isnt like you. didnt even make a journal post

9augen: usually you vent if somethings wrong?

ketherphorbia: you’re honestly the only person who’s noticed the radio silence, ironically

9augen: why wouldnt i notice? youre my favorite for reasons you know

ketherphorbia: ...i guess if i can dish to somebody, it’d be you

ketherphorbia: i, well

ketherphorbia: i did it. i tried it.

9augen is typing...

9augen: whatd you get your hands on???

ketherphorbia: the junk that’s making all the stalkers sick. fluxeldrin. turns out my assumptions were wrong. it’s not what made the supermarket geek

9augen: ...

9augen: the slag does it do to a dreg then

ketherphorbia: a lot of what it did really slagging sucks. i’ve mentioned my joint disorder before. all those symptoms are magnified to a fault. i...

ketherphorbia: i kinda literally fall apart now

ketherphorbia: on the plus side, it did make me a meta. a really shitty meta, but ME. a META.

9augen: magic fall apart powers sound incredibly useful to me

9augen: haha pics or it didnt happen

ketherphorbia: yeah i thought you were as hard over this as me, you dreg

ketherphorbia is sending a file DSC39082_100-3493.JPG.

ketherphorbia: it stretches pretty far actually

9augen: fuck--

9augen: shit--

ketherphorbia: did i break you? you should see tricks my dick can do now

9augen: i--

ketherphorbia: i really need to take pics of that, but i’ve been kind of nervous to post ‘em anywhere

9augen: slagging cocktease the fuck man. im at a finnegans

ketherphorbia: sorry

9augen: no you arent. one of the reasons i love you

ketherphorbia: yeah no you’re right. you know me too well

9augen: ive told you before i think youre cute right

ketherphorbia: slag, the skin thing makes it hard to disagree with you

9augen: i never sent you a pic of me did i

ketherphorbia is typing...

ketherphorbia: i’m taken, y’know, but no. you haven’t.

9augen: i know. youre a chouay nasty little creature now like youve always wanted. maybe not the next clayface. but you still have got this teratophilic dregs heart pounding hard tonight

ketherphorbia: ...i try

9augen: theres a reason i havent sent you a pic before, but the reason i was quiet for the past month makes things a little more comfortable. i used to be pretty selfconscious about photographs

ketherphorbia is typing...

ketherphorbia: i have no idea what you could even possibly be going on about. you trying to tell me something happened last month? are you going to tell me what happened or not

9augen: The vampire stuff isn’t an act anymore.

ketherphorbia is typing...

ketherphorbia has stopped typing.

ketherphorbia: WHAT

9augen is sending a file DSC92734_101-2245.JPG.

ketherphorbia cancelled the file transfer.

9augen: the slag did you do that for

ketherphorbia: vampires don’t show up in pictures

9augen is sending a file DSC92734_101-2245.JPG.

9augen: very funny bugdick

ketherphorbia: ...a hybrid...?

9augen: im more lamprey than anything else. but theres a lot of nuance to the cocktail. fine tuning

ketherphorbia: ...gives a whole new meaning to ‘body modification.’ how the slag did you even get that done last month? isn’t that stuff banned?

9augen is typing...

9augen: slag i hear somebody griping at the waitress about the smell of me. like some dead thing crawled out of the bay. shes probably going to kick me out. i should get going anyway

ketherphorbia: rude. you a wifi hopper too then?

9augen is typing...

9augen: parting thought for you though. i want my mouth all over every inch of that metahuman skin of yours. just imagine all the perfect lancet marks making lace out of you.

ketherphorbia: you show up in pictures. i really doubt i could keep you away just by not inviting you in.

9augen: im pretty sure they just called the cops. not the evening i was anticipating

9augen: i gotta get a bite to eat. later dreg

9augen: and would you really do something to keep me away? ;)

ketherphorbia is typing...

9augen is offline.

ketherphorbia: did you just--

‘Choly nearly flung the reader once his friend logged off without further answers. Had Rev just implied what it had sounded like? After a minute of trying to calm down, he opened the vampire’s selfie again and stared. He’d snapped that picture in the Finnegan’s. Time-stamp aside, ‘Choly could recognize the newsprint-plastered walls in the background--that was a frequent Wi-Fi lurk for him. The fact the two shared a stomping ground but had never initiated meeting in person haunted ‘Choly a bit. But now, his friend was a lot less inconspicuous.

He decided to make lunch instead of try to linger on the chaos that just thrust itself upon him. Hours later, he was checking his mail on his reader, and had gotten correspondence from a 9augen email. The following thread of emails were exchanged over the course of just over two months.

▼ ▼ ▼ ▼ ▼ ▼ ▼ ▼ ▼ ▼

To: ketherphorbia@geemail.com From: 9augen@tricity.co.dv Subject: Sorry to have cut out on you like that. —————————————

I suppose I do owe you an explanation, Kether. We’ve known each other long enough, and we trust enough enough. Yes, I did get the work done last month. Yes, that kind of work is verbot. Yes, I’m supposed to keep hush-hush about it until the coast is clear. But, I know I can trust you with the knowledge that the movement is still very much alive and kicking.

You like stories. How about some non-fiction for a change?

I didn’t know what to expect when I went to see him. Aside from what little understanding of splicing I had through news coverage, all I knew of it had been vampires in my coven who’d had the fortune--and I use that word in both senses--to have had work done while it was still legal, to become more like themselves and live as the creatures of the night they were in their souls.

There’s still a lot of under the table activity. Alleyways, clinics. People get work done however they can sneak it. One girl came into this one club a few months ago, even, said she’d traded a few sexual favors for the funds to get a splice that’d emulate albinism for her and would cut her teeth. She was having great difficulty keeping herself from feeding directly from the flesh afterward. They hadn’t used sterile equipment, and the last thing she wanted was to contaminate the coven or its donors. She became a pariah for her limitations after the coven learned of the blood disease. Requiring blood be drawn, rather than be capable of drawing it oneself, is weakness, and in one of us weakness is revolting. And she wasn’t strong enough to accumulate the funds to go about seeking a cure, to dig herself back out of her self-imposed grave.

I was so wary of botched jobs, of diseased implements, of cut dosages... Everything after the ban went into effect sounded too good to be true, that anyone might ever have the chance to get work done again by someone with both the credentials and accommodations to do it and do it well. A friend of a friend was in with one of the underground grafters, got us private referrals for a new project, at a cut rate due to it being a test procedure. None of us was given the same time. The location was a residential address, an apartment in the lower-mid of Union City. Nice, but still obviously it was an aging complex. A feathered girl greeted me and, after confirming I was alone, ushered me inside. Despite being a residential space, the whole place was set up like a laboratory. It was prodigious.

I went in with a lot of specific plans in mind. I told the grafter the things I wanted. Heavy on the bat serum. Wolf eyes. I had the money and the opportunity, and I was going to get exactly what I wanted out of it.

Turns out, I only thought I knew what I really wanted out of it.

Let me tell you. This Linnaeus is the most intimidating, persuasive, and completely dominating individual you will ever have the pleasure of meeting. He’s also probably the most brilliant. I couldn’t even begin to guess what species he’s got in him. In the month since, I’ve been told he specializes in splicing with extinct species. I would call bollocks on such a claim, but it sounds crazy enough to be one-hundred percent true.

After hearing the particulars of my desires, he thought a moment, paced. He pulled up a chair next to me and coolly asked me what vampire species I could name off the top of my head--besides the vampire bat. On the spot and overshadowed by his overwhelming aura, I could only stammer out something stupid, like mosquitoe or flea. I can’t remember exactly what answer I gave him, but I clearly remember his trite, patient laugh that came of it. At that point, he pulled out a graphics reader and tried to pitch to me an entirely different angle. I can only guess that an artist can draw so many of a thing before becoming tired of repetition, regardless of it being a commission. And I am starting to believe that the species I desired for the work simply didn’t push the envelope enough to fit the bill of his particular... project.

This was so much more than just getting the features of bat and wolf. This was about becoming myself. He’d deliberated the best way to give me what I’d be happiest with, and I had the impression he had the entire animal kingdom to sample from--within reason, of course, as he’s working within the shadows of the law. He told me briefly, without going into significant detail, that he was working on harnessing the strengths and idiosyncrasies of all life, going beyond the animal kingdom. It certainly sounds promising, whatever he means.

Ultimately, we came to the agreement that my splicing job would use the pacific lamprey as its base, but that I would get the vampire bat ears I’d sought coming to see him. The underlying work is complex, but everything is so finely tuned to enhance everything else. Cave salamander, and a strange anemone-like creature called a tunicate. Did you know the cave salamander has cultural roots with the Roma? The gills along my neck are mostly superficial, and the lungs don’t do much either--all that’s in my skin now. The nasal structure has a bit of a sonar thing to it, from both the salamander and lamprey; every smell is intense now. Slag, my mouth is filled with teeth now, cheeks ringed with lancets. Linnaeus tells me the tunicate helps with bloodborne pathogens. I later found it also helps with whatever I get exposed to in the bay.

Doesn’t help with the smell, though.

I’m glad that I could reach out to you, and keep correspondence with you. It’s taken a lot to get used to being aquatic, but I regret absolutely nothing that I’ve left behind. Living near the docks has been a slagged blessing. Perfect hunting grounds, and nobody bothers me so long as I stay off shore. I think you’d love hearing about the weird shit I find at the bottom of the bay. Believe it or not, it’s good money. Pawn shops hardly ever have the nerve to question where I got waterlogged goods. Not that it’s smart to question me. With this lean, cartilaginous skeleton, the splicing also yielded me significant height gain, mostly in my torso. The lengthening of my body was necessary to accommodate swimming muscles, but I slouch horribly so it’s hardly obvious just how tall I stand until I straighten up.

I so enjoy the shock value of doing that. Norms haven’t seen the likes of this nascent wave of chimeric hybrids, so I must be some kind of unholy cryptid to them. As though I’d continue unfolding in other ways were they to truly rile me. Admittedly, I do. ...But it’s rare to get a glimpse of the inside of my mouth.

I would love to meet you in person finally sometime. Get acquainted with one another’s new-found inhumanities. Get to play with that skin of yours. Show each other in person what the other’s body’s limits are. Maybe include your boyfriend in fooling around, if he’d be interested. I promise I won’t eat you, either of you, except perhaps in the most platonic sense. I cherish you too much.

Though really, I must admit, the hardest thing about adjusting to this wonderful luck of mine was finding a waterproof reader. Not that I get good Wi-Fi reception in the better half of the bay, nor that I’m able to recharge it without venturing onto land. I just don’t want to slag it up if I get it wet, you know?

This got meandering. I’m going to cut it off here, and leave everything open to discussion. It’s good to be back in touch with you. I wonder if, now that you’re what you write about, that you’ll write about yourself instead of just for yourself.

                                 --Don’t be shy.

▼ ▼ ▼ ▼ ▼ ▼ ▼ ▼ ▼ ▼

To: 9augen@tricity.co.dv From: ketherphorbia@geemail.com Subject: Re: Sorry to have cut out on you like that.  —————————————

>I suppose I do... >You like storie... >I didn’t know w... >There’s still a... >I was so wary o... >I went in with ... >Turns out, I on... >Let me tell you... >After hearing t... >This was so muc... >Ultimately, we ... >Doesn’t help wi... >It’s taken a lo... >I so enjoy the ... >I would love to... >Though really, ... >This got meande... >--Don’t be shy.

I hope you understand how overwhelmed I am with all this.

I still don’t get how I didn’t pick up after all this time that you were in the vampire scene. That... kind of actually manages to make you even creepier than before. In a good way. I promise in a good way.

Understandable, then, I hope, just how jealous I am of you and what you have. This skin and bone deformity is nothing compared to having become an outright monster, complete with the appetites of one.

Slag it all, man.

You’ve got to tell me everything.

What was it like? To have the serum take effect? You must have been conscious.

Describe it to me.

Your semen must be very salty.

▼ ▼ ▼ ▼ ▼ ▼ ▼ ▼ ▼ ▼

To: ketherphorbia@geemail.com From: 9augen@tricity.co.dv Subject: Re: Re: Sorry to have cut out on you like that. —————————————

>>I suppose... >>You like s... >>I didn’t k... >>There’s st... >>I was so w... >>I went in ... >>Turns out,... >>Let me tel... >>After hear... >>This was s... >>Ultimately... >>Doesn’t he... >>It’s taken... >>I so enjoy... >>I would lo... >>Though rea... >>This got m... >>--Don’t be...

>I hope you unde... >I still don’t g... >Understandable... >Slag it all, ma... >You’ve got to t... >What was it lik... >Describe it to ... >Your semen must...

Spouting off Ballard quotes at me. You must be a wreck...

Creepier than before? I suppose. You’ve always known my predilection for the classics. Fang and claw have always been a preference over tooth an nail.

What was it like? It was an utter entheogeny, my friend. Do you know what a grafting gun is like? To aid in the serum’s administration, it isn’t a single needle but six very fine-gauged needles, in a pneumatic hypodermic gun. In that medical implement, the approximation to vaccination is one which makes me smile to this day, chemicals which carried with them the proverbial antibodies which would make me capable of fighting off the plague of a chronic illness otherwise known to the public as “humanity.”

Linnaeus and his technician had before the procedure harnessed me like a modern Saint Andrew, the cross-like restraints having evolved thoroughly alongside the medicine which required them; their robotic cuffs could expand or contract, as could the distance of each of the hydraulic arcs of its aureole, which envelopd the entirety of the body of the device and acted as its structural integrity in the absence of a characteristic saltire structure.

He’d said that it had been difficult to replace this harness in particular after the ban, also said it had been necessary to be procured again. Implications lingered that the ban had bankrupted his agency, though there was something more to the specialty of this device. There had been incidents in the movement’s embryonic state, before he had implemented such measures as protective bondage.

He did not, however, go into further detail.

In deliberate irony or not, he went for the throat for the injection site. The serum itself felt much like a typical intravenous application, well-chilled and somewhat astringent. Heavy in the veins. Its seeming effervescence was not from gases, but of its heterogeneous components under high pressure. The syringe hisses pneumatically when it fires its contents into you One would suppose that someone with an aversion to needles would panic at hearing that sound in the sense of an injection; though, panic might be too considerate a word. Especially inches from one’s ear.

If he had not been referencing a phobia of needles in his practical necessity for the ring-like restraint system, however, it was the resultant agony of a teenage growth spurt, magnified across the span of the boughs of species, and sped up within a frame observable to the naked eye. It was as though I’d never truly experienced the metamorphosis to the adulthood I’d been meant to undertake. As a normal human being acclimates to his changing body, he might have his shins ache, or be inexplicably hungry, or suffer from bouts of hormone swings. All these things are exponentially worse when your cells are shifting between species, and trying to settle comfortably somewhere in between.

I never realized just what kind of masochist I was until that night.

Bone became cartilage. Skin became mucous membrane. Entire organs restructured themselves. There were entire minutes I could not breathe. My jaws dissolved, for the most part; simultaneously, the total surface of my expanding mouth sprouted dozens of rings of razor-sharp thorns. Nearly three times the vertebrae now comprise my spine. I was suffocating, and I was starving.

The metamorphosis extorts a great energy from a hybrid.

The feathered woman was the one to release me from the cross, whispering forth pedantic blandishments as I sank to rest on all fours. As I glared up at her, the extension of my external gills must have seemed more a threat display than a cry for oxygen. My head swam, but all of me needed to. I was too dizzy to take in anything either of them said, though I clearly recall the doctor finding some distinct pleasure and pride in how completely the serum had taken. “You’ll learn to breathe again,” I remember him admiring as the two of them permitted me at last to shove myself out the door and down the street.

I was fortunate that their secret clinic was so low in the city’s bowels, so close to the river. I didn’t care then how rank the water was, how I knew in my heart even just a fraction of the stuff might kill me. Water. I needed water. I don’t remember how I ended up at the dock, or how I ended up in the bay. I imagine I mostly flopped by inertia. The salt only stung for a moment, as it caught me off-guard; but then, as my faculties began to seep back into me, I could tell that the saline levels were facilitating my ability to breathe and take in the water.

So I was a saltwater fish now? I remember asking myself. It’s a good thing I’m a Jersey devil, then, I guess. I remember the insistent hunger, too, and that even then, my veins burned violently, especially those in my skull.

You know me well enough to know what state in which that experience left me. You also know me well enough to take pride in knowing this is an erotic work crafted for ketherphorbia, written for your own eyes only.

I suppose it’s not entirely out of line for me to return the favor, and ask you to describe your metagenesis.

A celebration. A coronation of wounds inflicted against the iniquity of manhood.

We’re both creatures now. More alike than either of us thought previous. Am I right?

I want to see more of you.

▼ ▼ ▼ ▼ ▼ ▼ ▼ ▼ ▼ ▼

To: 9augen@tricity.co.dv From: ketherphorbia@geemail.com Subject: Re: Re: Re: Sorry to have cut out on you like that. —————————————

>>I hope you... >>I still do... >>Understan... >>Slag it al... >>You’ve got... >>What was i... >>Describe i... >>Your semen...

>Spouting off Ba... >Creepier than b... >What was it lik... >Linnaeus and hi... >He’d said that ... >He did not, how... >In deliberate i... >If he had not b... >I never realize... >Bone became car... >The metamorphos... >The feathered w... >I was fortunate... >So I was a salt... >You know me wel... >I suppose it’s ... >A celebration. ... >We’re both crea... >I want to see m...

There are no words to convey just how arousing that sounds. I guess the best compliment I can give is to divulge the mighty fine time I’ve had rereading that last email. I can only imagine how the fuck the man knew how bad your autoerotic asphyxia was. Maybe he noticed the rope-like bruising on your neck... I’ll get off your case, but I won’t stop getting off on your case. :)

You want to know how it went? The story’s one testament after another of my own clumsiness and stupidity. It started with a date with Cecil at the coffee shop on Garden Center. The woman spearheading Tri-City’s EPA presence had decided that same shop would be where she would unwind after the day she’d been having, and a point of conversation with Cecil resulted in her burning ears shouldering in to both drop information and grab some of her own from us. One thing led to another, and I ended up with enough information to suggest not just where the Supermarket Geek had taken his spill, but what it had been he spilled in.

I vacillate whether I have hindsight not to have researched my facts further before acting upon them. But it was enough for me, that the conversation had yielded an unprecedented factoid, to the point that said information spurred a particular writing session.

I don’t know if you read the “Quarter Oysters” wip I threw up on my blog a while back. I’ve written more recent things, but there are a number of reasons I can’t share them. Really, though. I don’t know. Maybe I can share them with you. You’ve already made me an accomplice to slag all of verbot shit. Turnabout’s fair play...

Any rate... After writing “Quarter Oysters,” I snuck out of the house and broke into the dump site I’d had described to me. The place was littered with toxic waste drums. In several spots, they were stacked up over a story high. I’d never seen such a thing be so organized as this. Many of them were leaking to spite their order. Some of them even glowed. There were two guards stationed, and I managed to duck them once; they’d almost found me the first time because I’d slipped and thrown out my knee, but I chewed on the shoulder of my shirt and reset it while in hiding. I found a drum of Fluxeldrin cordoned off by tape, and I had my tippling cane with me, so I had a vial to sample of it. I’d have taken more than one, since the cane contained four, but I already heard them coming for me, and I couldn’t hide fast enough. So, I only took the one and hastily reassembled my cane, rather than risk getting caught actively stealing it. They threw me out of the Yard, but they thought I’d just been a snooping idiot cripple. For once my youthful look and decrepit demeanor benefited me. They had no idea I’d smuggled my prize.

I shambled down the street and found myself a safe place where I could mull things over in private. The place was run down, even for a half-completed apartment complex. I’m not even joking, it was creepy as hell. Someone had been living there, I’m sure of it, and from what I saw in the rotting pressboard cabinets, I’m sure they were cooking drugs or bombs or something. There was even a nasty spring-box mattress there. And a bathtub, but not attached to anything. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen the kind that installs into where the floor and wall meet when it’s just a free-floating hunk of fiberglass, but they are unsettling as hell when they’re not installed.

My reader was going dead because I’d used it as a flashlight while retrieving my prize, so I couldn’t really research after the fact. I knew Cecil would freak if he found me in possession of the stuff, so I had to act on it then and there. I didn’t have enough to rub it into my skin and get even coverage, so I decided like an idiot I had to drink it for maximum effect. Fluxeldrin glows an aggressive lime green, is oily like antifreeze, and smells like rotten cut flowers but worse. The consistency of it made it cling to every surface of my innards that it came into contact with, and the smell and taste of it had me fighting all compulsion to regurgitate every last drop of it along with all my organs. I flung the vial after downing its contents, too caught up in the moment to realize the recklessness of it. Fighting the urge to vomit, hands on my mouth trying to keep my lips clenched tightly together, I ultimately collapsed on the mattress, not even caring about the grime.

When I awoke, there was blood on the mattress where my face had been, crusted up around my nose and mouth. I threw out the same knee again upon trying to stand--but this time, I threw it out as though the joint weren’t actually connected, and I spilled out on the cement floor. I really wish my reader hadn’t been dead by then, because I would kill right now for a photograph of something that can make me vomit. And I mean I puked to the bile, the way that the fall had disheveled my leg. Couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I managed to get it back together, and gather my belongings. Putting my cane back together, I barely managed to get to my date with Cecil for lunch the next day.

I bullshat some stupid excuse about having had to hit the yards early that morning for something time sensitive. The night before he’d suggested that he could get me a job working at the Central Library, and after lunch he dragged me up there to show me around. I was interested in doing all this, really I was... but it was so hard with all my joints feeling like every surface was over-oiled. With fifteen minutes to closing time, I ran into the Geek trying to use his library card for the first time. Meeting him, I can guarantee you he’s a stalker too. ...I made an idiot out of myself and really shook him up trying to get him to eat my finger splints. I’m still messed up over that.

But that doesn’t even get to the verbot shit. The stress of having slagged up first impressions with the Geek had me pretty literally falling apart. All the physical problems my joint disorder’s inured me to, that all’s magnified by what the Fluxeldrin did to me. Worse for wear, I ended up trying to get in with Dr. Bell before the All’s Well Clinic closed for the evening. I didn’t manage it. So, I did the logical thing and broke in through the back door with the intent to “borrow” some pain pills, and wait out the night to see him first thing in the morning. The first week I was like this was the most excruciating, man. This condition has the unprecedented ability to drive me to do just about anything to alleviate these systems, when they flare up. And breaking and entering a pharmaceutical storage wasn’t outside the realm of what felt acceptable in my present state that night...

I fell face-first into Bell’s racket. He’s the only doctor in the city with knowledge of the metahuman condition, and the only one whom I can reasonably see helping me cope with what the Fluxeldrin did to me--but it comes at with a high price tag. I know his deal, but he has that B&E hanging over me. If I don’t do exactly what he says, he’s got ways to make my life hell. And he’s got me running shopping errands for him for the truck he cooks for his projects. He’s the heart of the Quarter, I just know it.

I’m so torn on the right thing to do because my dick doesn’t want what’s taking place to ever stop. I guess I’m telling you not just that I trust you not to tell anybody, but that I want some input on what kind of person it makes me, to be going along with this madness to avoid the fallout of shaking the foundation everything’s tentatively scattered upon. I’m scared, Rev. For Bell’s victims, for me, for Cecil. For everybody who’s ever gotten sick in the Quarter.

This got really long-winded and meandered into a “from one friend to another” situation. So, to make it up to you, a quick and dirty recap:

I broke into a stalking yard and stole a flask of fluxeldrin. And drank it. I drank something that fluoresced neon lime green, smelled and tasted like rot, and felt like gasoline. Something I knew could kill me. Something I knew was banned in its industry of origin due to its health hazards. I drank that. And it made me the shittiest meta that will likely ever be.

It’d be nice to meet, but I’m not sure how that would even work. You said you’re a fish now, but you’d be a fish out of water... Even I know better than to go anywhere near the toxic soup that dares to call itself Hudson Bay...

▼ ▼ ▼ ▼ ▼ ▼ ▼ ▼ ▼ ▼

To: ketherphorbia@geemail.com From: 9augen@tricity.co.dv Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Sorry to have cut out on you like that. —————————————

>>Spouting o... >>Creepier t... >>What was i... >>Linnaeus a... >>He’d said ... >>He did not... >>In deliber... >>If he had ... >>I never re... >>Bone becam... >>The metamo... >>The feathe... >>I was fort.. >>So I was a... >>You know m... >>I suppose ... >>A celebrat... >>We’re both... >>I want to ...

>There are no wo... >You want to kno... >I vacillate whe... >I don’t know if... >Any rate... Aft... >I shambled down... >My reader was g... >When I awoke, t... >I bullshat some... >But that doesn’... >I fell face-fir... >I’m so torn on ... >This got really... >I broke into a ... >It’d be nice to...

Delight is in the details. Oh, would I have never expected a short story written explicitly for mine eyes alone--let alone with such minutiae of gauche detail! Were it under suspicion of being fiction, I would think you a master for the unfortunate believability of your tale; that the course of events you’ve described can’t not have happened.

I’ve been around the coastline of the Quarter since my rebirth. The scent you described is very potent for this nose, these gills. If I were to hazard assumptions, I do believe the stuff has begun to seep into the water table, into the river. Of all the areas of the waterways around this city I can’t tolerate, it’s there, believe it or not. Something about it is fundamentally repulsive, and no matter what it is, I can’t shake what feels like an archetypal fear of it. So, for you to so casually narrate your deliberate pursuit of obtaining this Fluxeldrin business, and so flippantly have imbibed it... Well, I harbor a revolting admiration for you.

You do find yourself between a rock and a hard place, I imagine. Several. Or maybe, you simply find yourself hard between all these rocks. I won’t force details, though I can certainly read between the lines. It’s difficult to say. But, knowing you...I needn’t remind you how often we’ve shared the fantasy of some pandemic mutating the masses like some fabric-rending reality, culling the unfit. Everything is perfect.

The world is fluorescing into wounds, as you so describe.

To say you’d kill for something graphic enough to make you retch. I’d love to see it, too. Systemically disarticulate you, just to watch what you’d do. Stretch out that stuff that used to be your skin, curious how translucent it is, admire the veins.

Calling the bay an unapproachable toxic soup, though? I survive just fine in it. It’s all I have, Kether.

Regardless.

I’m sure we can determine a way to make this work.

[survivormarmoreal]

Episode #9: "we're here for the messy bitch game play right" - Annabelle

Tribal was f*ckin wild. Like didnt see that coming and Nicole we literally never talked so dont come for me. 👏

So far Nicole’s attempt hasnt affected anything. And plus Sharky took more of the heat and more blood on his hand and I did for coming up with the Nicole vote. Like im scream team to the end but like it works better for me if people dont see me as a huge threat right now unlike Sharky. I think i might be in a good spot and with an advatage with this immunity hopefully i can win.

Well... I refuse to be booboo the fool right now. I have conflicting information currently about who voted me so guess what? I am not gonna trust anyone LMAO. Everyone is denying and pointing the fingers at others and its fucking pissing me off. Like just own up to voting me so i can have a clear target my fucking god. Like goodbye see you soon!

from my confessional cause i just went off in it LOL about the last tribal: i know brian and sharky did not vote me nate and bryce are being fishy maynor seems non exsistant keaton is literally opening his big mouth and getting himself in more trouble i trust anna enough and nick thinks he is "iconic" for an idol play like boi con-fucking-gratulations that you can do something many have done before you

Like, im so done with these people, just let me play my idol in peace smh

So I basically threw this challenge. I just put myself for most of the positives and I put Keaton for most of the negatives. With a few random answers sprinkled in. I get so nervous about really trying on Touchy Subjects because Im worried about revealing my alliances and stuff. This way I just look cocky. And Keaton and I are already on bad terms so me putting him for the negatives might piss him off but probably not anyone else. Ugh

ok so me snapping and voting matt is really annoying KJFHDSAKJFDHS idk why i did that! i was crazy back then... so current thinking is that me/matt/keaton voted matt. and then nicole did keaton and everyone else did nicole. i dont think anyone suspects me but like they woudlnt tell me if they do FJKASDHFKJ apparently matt thinks that nathan did it and anna thinks that it was keaton and maynor and im just like :| FSAJDHFKD. also this comp is about to ruin me like my answers are def gonna make ppl hate me and plus i wrote myself for some good ones which i never do but idk im just really feeling myself so cant wait for the crushing weight of reality to knock me down a peg or two when i get like "next voted out" "doesnt deserve to be here" AFJKSDFHKAJ but maybe not... anyways i recently got obsessed with shakira again like.. im thriving

https://i.imgur.com/5o6sz3j.png when i tell u i screamed JKDFASHKJAD

Okay so Touchy Subjects ALWAYS blows up my game. Like I got all the ones that make people target you. Running the Game. Biggest Snake. Physical Threat. I even somehow managed to get "Trust the Most" and "Best Liar". HOW!? And now I'm super worried because if I wasn't on everybody's radar before I sure am now. And I have no idea who I can trust after those rogue Matt votes. I even feel slightly sketched out by Nick. He's acting...weird. And he keeps telling everyone there is a war between me and Keaton. Which I guess is sort of true because Keaton is throwing my name out there. And obviously I would rather him go. 

everyone is so extra JKDAHSKFJ matt making a post about how the ppl who are lying and saying they didnt vote him are personally effecting him are terrible like.. ok sorry for not exposing myself get over it u got 3 votes one of which were ur own and maybe if u were more active and didnt reply with one word responses no matter how hard i tried to get u to speak i wouldnt have thrown the vote on u. im just like so over his entitledness that ppl confess to him like who do u think u are KJFHADKJFDH. i feel like maybe im being too mean so if matt reads this after the game im sure ur just in ur feelings or w/e and u did say u had personal stuff going on but like thats not an excuse to go on tirades in the tribe chat when no one but u cares.

keaton is the worst person ive ever met (and i know zach :s) weird of him to choose white ppl saying the n word as his hill to die on but um i got the cannon ready to aim and hes going :airplane: to jury.

OK, so basically Annabelle wins immunity!  Good for her, but she's literally not doing enough for me to feel beyond happy for her kjHD... like she's nice and I like her, but at the end of the day, I really don't think she's doing much to propel herself and she's just getting kinda lucky... considering the first and now second immunity have been somewhat luck based... ya....

Keaton's the name being thrown into the mix already (it's only 9:11pm), and I really am fine with that this time around!  I like him, but I think he's just someone who can easily go now and it not be bad for me in the future.  He's already thrown out Sharky's name and basically called out Sharky to his face, so I'm kinda shaking in my booties.  As long as it ain't me, I'm happy enough to listen, but I just don't want any big surprises like the Matt votes, again.

Sharky has been thrown out as the biggest threat in this game right now, and while I think it's very apparent to everyone, I can't have him going anywhere right now.  No fucking way.  I love the shark man.  He's my favorite... he cannot go anywhere... I need him!!  So buh-fucking-bye, Keaton!  I may like you, but it's not enough to keep you.

Keaton is trash.

Let me elaborate on my previous confessional. So first Keaton tries to call me out for mentioning his name which I didn't do (I did admit to it to save the drama so thats partially on me) but he tries to call me out in public after the vote. Gross. Then after the challenge he starts gunning for me hard. He wants to claim I was doing the same but I wasn't gunning for him very hard. Because i didn't care if he went. He wasn't an ally but he wasn't a threat either. until he started trying to tear me down. Also let's be clear this all started because EVERYONE thinks he's rude and annoying. Then he tries to come for me in pms calling me out for spreading lies. Which again I NEVER DID. So I straightened him out on that. Then he tries to do the "If I don’t get you out now I never will and then we all lose." which is BULLSHIT. Don't get mad and angry with me just because I'm playing better than you. CHILDISH. Then in the tribe chat he says "As a player he can burn. As a person he's enjoyable." IS HE TRYING TO MAKE ME HATE HIM!? First of saying I can burn makes me want to really drag him. Also bro you and i don't talk you don't know shit about me as a person. You did that just to feed this "Feud" thats going on. STFU. Bye. Whichever one of us goes I'm glad I won't have to talk to his KIRBY LOOKING ASS anymore. I wish Marie had stayed.

Okay I can't lie I'm super nervous about this vote. I just don't trust anyone. I'm talking to Annabelle now and was like "I'm down to vote for anybody" because I'm not sure where she's at and I want her to know I am a vote for her.

Well. Good thing is that i wasnt dragged with with what Nicole said which is good with me. I didnt get any touchy subject which is also great. My two best allies Sharky and Keaton both did which means they’ll be targeted before I do. Which is awesome. Me and Nathan dont want to see Keaton go so we got Annabell and Bryce to be with us for a 5 person voting block thats going after Matt. Thats right, Matt is going home. Keaton plan was to try and distract Sharky and fight with him and have both of their names on the chopping block. This means that Matt wont see this blindside happening. And if Sharky has an idol, he’ll waste it cuz he won’t be getting any votes. Its gonna sbe wild af. Be ready.

Its been very quiet this morning. The plan has been set so im hoping that nothing else shatters the plan. The idol search doesnt like me as it likes Nick. Only thing i found was an advantage for next immunity which was an extra point butnit was touchy subject so i kinda threw it cuz said my name for the ones i felt where really bad. And i want to give a shout out for host Drew. You are an amazing and cool person.

OK, so Nathan has been going behind me and Sharky's back to target Matt... and I'm just shook to my fucking core.... bless Annabelle's big heart for telling Sharky because it gave us some room to snap hard.  I know Matt has an idol, and I cannot wait for him to pull it out at tribal.  I think that Nathan is thinking very short term and thinking him not telling me and Sharky is just some move he can make on his own, but as the Touchy Subjects' results showed us, Nathan thinks he's running the game but Sharky is actually doing it.  Getting this info... what a fucking legend...

Annabelle doesn't want to be screwed because of this whole situation so Sharky wants to avoid voting Nathan out but I lowkey don't care.  Nathan keeping me out of the conversation makes me lose all trust in him.  I know I'm not the target, but it doesn't change the fact that he's trying to run the game behind my back.  It's not going to work, sir.  It won't.

Ok... I'm angry, but I'm going to have to control that anger and turn it into making the best decision for my game and that will be to work with Matt and Sharky till the end.

Brace yourself this is going to be a LONG ONE. So last night I basically went to Anna and tried to save my ass because I really haven't been sure how genuine our alliance was because of our history together. She basically kept saying she was in a tough spot and this and that and so I outright asked her if she was considering voting for me. And she was like absolutely not. Which is such a relief. HOWEVER! She confesses that Nathan has created a secret plan to vote out Matt. He specifically told everyone not to tell me and Brian about it. EXCUSE ME? Aren't we in an alliance dude? So thats really pisses me off. But supposedly they have the majority for this plan. So that means I don't have to worry about myself as much. But I don't want Matt to go. Especially after this proved that he's one of the only ones I trust. So I'm thinking out of 9 votes we have 3 we can maybe use the steal a vote or something to try and get a majority. CUT TO THIS MORNING. I tell Brian about this secret plan and Brian tells me Matt has a freakin idol!!! So now we can use his idol and even if there are 5 votes left Matt/Brian/Myself control that vote then. Now the tough part...I need the vote to stay on Keaton because if it goes to anybody else Anna is going to think I screwed her over. And I promised her that her telling me wouldn't bite her in the ass. I also need this to stay TOP SECRET because if anyone finds out I leaked the plan they are going to come after me and I love Matt but I don't want to destroy my game to save him. So we need to have Matt use his idol and all 3 of us need to vote for Keaton.

God these people. I am VERY sure I am getting votes tonight and it's ok. Why? Cause I have an idol fuck these cunts. If not the WOOO love a minority!

i'm playing a super dangerous game right now but it's ok hopefully it works out we're here for the messy bitch game play right and i also just like play better in chaos so let's keep it that way once the game gets boring people will think of me.

Y'all I'm feeling real shitty about this week. I still feel super in danger. i feel like everyone is lying to my face. But I'm also worried for Matt. Luckily he has an idol so he'll be safe but the fact that he's catching votes at all is concerning. I hope it's Keaton going out but you just truly never know. This could be my time.

So it seems Matt might be an option for the vote but the questions I have are: Do I trust Matt enough to tell him he’s getting votes? Am I willing to make an early move? How will this will effect me moving forward? And when thinking between Keaton and Matt... I think I know my decision…

The shit hit the fan. Somehow Nick knows the hidden real plan that it was going to be Matt tonight. Keaton keeps lying to Bryce that he’s doing Sharky but Bryce is the number we have to have majority over Matt. Keaton is being sketchy kinda. Hopefully the plan goes according and Matt goes because last time he was doing a witch hunt for those 2 votes. Im going to be drinking at tribal tonight. Shit is too stressful.

Keaton is idoled out in a 6-3 vote.

[tainolibrary]

Spiritual Elitism or Respecting Tradition

“I have come come across more online fodder and Fuckery than I care to admit to. I have seen huge groups of people from neo pagan white witches to hotepian American African descendants taking creative license and authority over well established living and breathing traditions that have survived and have been surviving and thriving with priesthoods. Take that last part in yall... LIVING AND THRIVING PRIESTHOODS!! We are not talking about the entire greek pantheon with old ruins of temples of glorious times past. We are talking about multiple lands in the diaspora by which Africans were brought and left in motion strong rooted legacy by which some of us were initiated into operating within and entrenching ourselves in the work to keep it going so that future generations can use it to benefit themselves and others. And here come along any ol body who has access to a mouse, a keyboard, monitor and such to come scooping on in and COLUMBUSING what was already there and established. These are some of the very “progressive” folks who can understand Christopher Columbus was not shit and gets the credit for “founding” America which was already inhabited. They will not nor can they even try to see that they are themselves inserting them into a space as guests and possible heirs and trying to upsurp what has already been rooted. Listen here.. You aint coming up in my house and uprooting anything, and if you are successful in your attempts you are catching these hands or this good ol juju. On my amazing friend and Sister friend, Okantomi’s @spiritualteabath page on IG, there was a post about upheld traditions and how to navigate to and through them. Out comes vegan Susan from accounting who does yoga all her life, eats granola and dried cranberries and owns several rescue animals decides to come in and give her testimony of how Orisa has been speaking to her all her life. Once told by several initated priests that there are certain ways one is called to the priesthood or lifestyle associated with orisa worship she decides to perform her well rehearsed routine... Sparkling mayo-tinged bleached tears and indignation. Miss Susan, aka @seekyoursoul333 on IG proceeds to post the following: “The only thing I take issue with is spiritual Elitism. Those that judge anothers path by their own ego. Their need to feel they are special or more entitled to a path than another. To me, if the spirit of any path calls you, you should listen. Develop your relationship and understand what is between you and the Orisha, God, Goddess ect, is between you and them. What relationship another of anyone’s business but them.” @SpiritualTeaBaths responds again, kind as ever: |” Yes, Orisha worship is now universal. The Orishas are worshipped by people of all races and national origins, but legitimacy depends upon adherence to established orthodoxy. Lukumí/Regla de Osha (AKA Santería) has a very rigorous orthodoxy. Heads are marked in very specific ways, by ritual specialists who are priests of divination. It is possible to have connections to many Orisha, but in that system only one owns your head; and it’s not something that you can just be told by a practitioner. What we view as capricious is the desire of outsiders to interact with these deities while disregarding the systems of worship the Orisha established for us thousands of years ago. I don’t suggest that you have no affinity with Oshún. However, if she had actually called you you’d be experiencing such terrible upheavals in your life that you would be forced to seek initiation. It’s a common thread across all traditions, people get initiated because they must. If you’re ever interested in reading about Orisha worship, I can recommend some great books. Ki Oshun agbe o.   I understand your perspective, but it is antithetical to every tradition of Orisha worship. Orisha religions are systematic and hierarchical. Their “fundamento” (foundation) consists of “regla” (rules and order), “Awo” (secret, sacred knowledge), and “licencia” (ritual authority) among other things. These are intact systems of worship that are links in an unbroken chain that is thousands of years old. They are orthodox and structured. They are neither random, nor are they eclectic. Their structure and orthodoxy were established and maintained at great personal cost by “lagba-lagba” (revered elders), mandated and guided by the Orisa themselves. As a communal system, initiated have a responsibility to ensure the integrity of these traditions. So yea, it is absolutely the business of others. Just as my practice is the business of others. Orisha cannot be separated from its culture, orthodoxy, or priesthood. Orisha worship is hierarchical. It is your sense of privilege and entitlement that has created your misperception of elitism. If you ever become involved in any form of orthodox Orisha worship, your perspective will shift. P.S. I view exchanges of this nature as enlightening and beneficial. It helps me to understand your perspective, and it exposes you to the tenets and orthodoxy of Orisha religion. ” Others now hip to Susan’s trail of entitled tears and tantrums are getting riled up and calling her out.. and here she goes again:“And there comes the “entitlement” and “privilege” words. No, I’m sorry it is not your business. I think Im’ probably going to take an Orisha over you. If you want to talk about what matters, I’m going to follow what the Orisha has led me to and not you. I will never tell another what to do in their spirituality and you maybe should do the same. You are frankly making judgements about relationships you know nothing about. Religion is man made. I do not follow a religion. I go where I am led as everyone should. My path is mine alone. I am involved in Santeria. And yet Oshun has come to me, as a child. Showed me things I should not know was not exposed to. So  yeah I’m going with Orisha here. You are free to practcie as you are led. We all are. That is not entitlement or privilege.” Now yall... I read her response and all of my hairs stood up and I felt the heat in my ears I get just before I am about to THUMP/FIGHT/THROW HANDS. I had to breathe through it. The nerve of this unititated ass woman talking to other priests about what she gonna do with their deities they serve and have been trained to serve and her relative free access to all that is based on a feeling of being “led.” Here is my thing, can you imagine walking into a sweat lodge or Pow Wow and through on cultural/spiritual regalia and just jump on in dancing the dances no one dances or danced, singing songs no one sings or ever sung and performed ceremonies/rituals no one ever uses in that group of people? Would you enter a Hindu temple and offer steak to the Gods there in offering because you felt compelled and led by spirit to do so? Would you enter a Catholic Churh throw Koolaid in their Holy Water and tell them the holy water shall now be red like the blood of Christ and its ok because spirit led you to do so? No you wouldnt and you would do so at the cost of possibly catching a Tanya Harding to Nancy Kerrigan to the knee cap bust, or some generational curse ensured to your descendants fro years to come. You do not get to enter spaces, that inhabited and established and simply request or demand changes. You have to be a part of said culture or group before you can even earn a right to say anything about anything and then even then you must earn your way to having a reputable name enough by your community to admonish such.. This is the nonsense I am seeing here that boggles my mind. You just gonna come in and make it what you think it needs to be and damn anyone else whose job it is to retain and ensure the survival of said traditions. You treating our tradition like you are the “Do Good” LA rich folk who want to stop the Yulin dog eating festival in a country you have nothing to do with. A people you havent yet got to know or emerse in their culture enough to see the hows and whys of anything they do. You just gonna throw your entitlement and privilege around to judge it from the outside looking in and then demand from the top of your lungs what you want to happen. GIRL BYE!!! SIR, FARETHEEWELL! Sayonora! Adios! Au Revoir! and Any other language you need to get the hint. This was my final word on that thread and I stand by it 150% in the spirit of, “WHAT YOU AINT FITTIN TUH DO IS!” “My biggest issue will be entitlement. If you are truly being "led" you will have been led to a community, an ile, and more than likely ocha if not the first preliminary steps leading into initiation. You don't just meditate and orisa come visit or just dream and these deities just come around. I'm convinced 99.9% of what's appearing to people are spirits who work with or in alignment with said deity or their energy. Or are appearing in a fashion in which is comfortable or significant for the person to accept and/or visualize. Some spirits may appear Oshun-esque but many spirits exist in the unseen realm or in the bodies of water. There are ways we as priest confirm if orisa is calling someone. There are ways as priests we call to orisa to incite, to calm... we even have ways to let them know what we doing..as far as lifting them up off the ground or taking off the lid to the sacred vessels that hold them.. yet these folks think they can just meditate and light a yellow candle and poof first image of femininity you see is an orisa simply because you called their Name and set an intention?! GTFOH! Don't google, YouTube, or Wikipedia orisa subjects and then form rituals around that or speak with authority online or otherwise. The truth of the matter is you are a child parroting grown folk business and ain't yet started sitting at the grown folk table. You still eating with the other children pontificating. I need folks to truly respect the legacy of ancestors and not cherry pick how they want to honor them. If it's ancestors you rever then rever the foundations of legacy they left by way of tradition. Follow the protocols that have been existent for over 500 years and don't feel entitled to practice or know what so many priests have busted their ass, bank, or otherwise to learn for the benefit of their community. Every practitioner of medicine must do apprenticeship, internship, tests and finally a review by their expert peers until they are deemed capable to practice.. Anyone else attempting to practice medicine without said license is considered illegal and liable to be jailed. Think about that because the same applies here.” - David Sosa Original source: https://www.facebook.com/notes/david-sosa/spiritual-elitism-or-respecting-tradition/10155887653642736