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insomniac-dot-ink · 5 years ago

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The Long Bus Ride

Genre: supernatural horror

Words: 5.6k

Summary: When her late night bus stops in the middle of a rolling fog cloud Frieda starts to worry. Then she starts seeing words being written in the condensation on her window and she truly gets unnerved.

A group of strangers must now try to get through the night as something seems to be outside.

content warning: body horror

---------

The bus was mostly empty that evening. That was typical with rising fares and the fact most people would have tried to be home hours ago. It was too early for the late night party crowd and too late for the normal working crowd.

The bus driver was a big guy named Ted, I knew him by his portly size and baby-smooth clean shaven face. He had youthful thick brown hair grown a little long probably for vanity’s sake and a large pot belly that sagged over the shiny tight black belt around his waist.

He always nodded at me when I got on and always stopped for people when they were running to catch the 431. He wasn’t always on time like the other bus driver-- Nory, but he also honked his horn a little less than him too.

I flashed my bus pass at Ted that evening with our usual nod and a lingering achy bitterness settling in my core. Deirdre’s daughter had come to visit again that afternoon and there was always too much nasty energy in the house on those days. I liked to keep things neat, both personally and professionally. I kept my purse organized into tiny pockets and my clothes sorted in bins by season and I never mentioned anything personal at my job.

Everything had its place, but it was harder to be politely indifferent to the household when they were throwing barbed words at each and asking my opinion. It bothered me to have to be anything other than “day nurse Frieda” to them. It blurred our relationship when they turned to me and said “tell my mother she needs to finalize her will” and so on.

Of course, Deirdre should and did need to finalize her will, but expressing that broke far too many boundaries in a messy way.

I was ready to be home an hour ago by the time I walked to the bus stop with the sun already carefully nestled behind the city skyline. The purple of a gloomy summer night was heavy across the horizon and I didn’t even both to check my phone watch. I knew my Friday night was almost already over.

My feet ached as I turned to walk down the aisle of the 431 bus headed to Oakland. My chin was sinking toward my chest like a balloon tug insistently downward by a toddler. An older man sat near the front.

He was a skinny, wiry man with a thick mustache and clothes with spots of what I hoped was motor oil on his patterned button-up and workman pants. He wore heavy boots and watched me with small eyes under enormous eyebrows that could have probably watched me as well for the sheer size of them. He had no bags or anything with him and he sat like there was a drill sergeant ready to bark at him if he so much as slouched a little.

No one else sat in the seats near the front designated for the elderly and pregnant. The seats themselves were blue and yellow with party designs on them like you might see at a tacky bowling alley. It was an older bus that hadn’t even been upgraded to “green” standards yet and rumbled like a thunder storm wherever it went.

In the middle seats was a mother and child. She was a middle-aged black woman with long beaded braids tied back in a ponytail and wore a bright pink shirt and a slouchy pair of comfortable looking jeans. Her daughter looked around 9 or 10 and had her hair pulled back in a tight bun at the top of her head. She wore a hoodie over what looked like leggings and carried a sports bag with her.

The mother was probably picking her up from something like ballet practice. The daughter was leaning on the mom while she absently stroked her head and looked out the window. Something about the easy intimacy of it made me look away quickly.

One seat up and across from the mother and daughter was a gently snoring man. He had a wild beard, knit cap, and fingerless gloves. I could tell by the smell alone that he was homeless and had probably been sleeping on the bus for hours now. However, I had smelled worse and his jacket and jeans weren’t as grungy or disheveled as they could have been.

Two other people sat in the back, but luckily neither of them had claimed the final spot in the corner of the bus near the window. A young woman was one chair ahead of my seat, a short white girl who looked around college age. I wrinkled my nose at her because she was holding a paper cup with what I assumed was coffee and her hands were shaking.

She had on a long skirt with mud splotches at the bottom and a pale blue shirt with a mustard stain on the front. Her long auburn hair was tied back into a ratty knot at the back of her neck. She had on huge glasses dangerously close to the edge of her nose and she was staring out the window with the look of someone trying to count the yellow street lines and failing.

Across from her in the other corner of the bus was a high-school aged looking young man with a huge bag blocking the seat next to him. He was Asian with ink-black hair that he had spiked, and wore all black with dark ripped jeans and a band t-shirt. His ears were covered by silver earrings draped over the lobes like angry criss-crossing Christmas decorations.

He had a tattoo of what appeared to be a wing on his neck and smeared eyeliner around his indifferent gaze. He was wearing small earbuds and listening to something with an audible thrumming base.

I ignored both the messy girl and the punk boy as I took my seat and got out my book for the forty minute ride home. It was another pirate romance story-- which my sister recommended because she assumed she knew my taste. The action scenes were fine, but the actual tension between the main couple was blase at best.

I had to make sure no one sat behind me during my bus rides home though because I didn’t need anyone looking over my shoulder and finding the words “he touched my wet throbbing womanhood.” To say the least, the erotic parts of the novels were not that good either.

It was better than scrolling my phone right then though. I hated work emails more than I hated mud trailed onto the carpet in my house or slow-walkers on the sidewalk.

I peeked out the windows sometimes to get a look at the city as the street lights and building lights and headlights erupted one by one in a pale cascade. We were getting closer to the Oakland Bay bridge and the lights threaded along the beams like spiderwebs of frantic energy all captured and blooming at once. I had an affection for the city despite being trapped there.

I hadn’t actually come to California to be a geriatric nurse again. I already spent ten years working as one in Louisiana when an old college friend had called me up and asked if I wanted to join his startup. It sounded like a fairy tale: join an up and coming tech company and watch as you get boosted past “middle class” into something glamorous and decadent. Kitt knew me and knew I was good with people and offered to let me run the PR department.

Of course, I hadn’t joined for the money or the fact I was that interested in PR. I had been working in a nursing home for almost a decade by then and it had started to wear on me. I liked listening to people, especially people who were made of stories, and the job had originally suited me fine. But there was this… shadow over it all that started to eat at me.

A shadow of loss, of empty words, empty places where a sharp mind used to be, empty reassurances that meant nothing, brief glimpses of grief so intense that it split people in two. That shadow loomed larger and larger the longer I stayed. It chased me as my favorite grandma’s hands started to shake and my favorite patient stopped being able to play piano. I saw it in how some of them stopped meeting my eyes when the months dragged on and their time was coming. I saw in the way they stopped remembering my name or their own.

No. I didn’t want to work as an elderly care nurse any longer.

Of course, I was also 33 and single, and a change sounded good. So I moved all the way across the country, got the smallest apartment I had ever lived in, and dared to be a little bold. I wore brighter colors, spoke out more in meetings, cooked spicier foods, I went on dates with women for the first time.

But all good things come to an end. Most startups don’t make it, no matter how many twitter algorithms you try to “hack.”

I looked out the window and ignored my phone as it buzzed. There were other reasons I didn’t check my phone on the bus as well. Cynthia still wanted to meet now and then-- to see if we could make it work after all. I ignored the buzz.

I was lost to the erotic adventures of a very loud and very incompetent heroine when I heard a soft gasp come from in front of me. I usually had a rule of ignoring everyone else on public transport, but there was something about the sharp surprised sound that made me look up.

We were on the bridge now and it was damp and dark out. I blinked a couple times as I noticed a thick cloud seeming to descend. Fog was all but normal in San Francisco so I decided to go back to reading my book.

A small murmur passed between the daughter and mother in the middle of the bus, “it’s alright…”

I looked up again and the cloud was quickly eating up the view and making the road ahead look shrouded and strange. Cars around us had already turned on their headlights and I could almost feel the bus slowing down as visibility ahead quickly disappeared.

I wrinkled my brow. I didn’t know much about weather, but we usually only saw fog like this in the mornings. I looked to the other side of the road and noticed that I didn’t see any cars coming toward us.

“Look mom,” I heard a small voice say and the little girl was pointing out toward the ocean. I tried to look out the window and make out the sea too, but only saw that same thick white. It was dense and shapeless around us and the bus was slowing down further.

“Where are the lights?” I snapped my head around and the punk kid had taken his earbuds out. His face was even more stony than before and his eyes were narrowed toward where the bridge would be.

I set my jaw as I realized I didn’t see any of the glowing yellow lights that should be at least breaking through parts of the fog. Even worse, I checked ahead of us and behind, I had never known the Oakland bridge to ever be empty.

There were no more cars on either side of us.

I gulped. The bus was almost at a standstill.

“Hey!” The messy college girl holding the coffee called up from the back. “What’s going on?”

“Yeah, what’s the meaning of this? We’ve all got places to be.” The working class man stood up at the front.

Ted the driver didn’t turn around and there was something about his figure that sat wrong.

“Where the fuck are the lights?” The punk kid was standing up now and craning his neck to look outside.

“Excuse me, sir, is there a problem?” The mother had dragged her daughter into her lap and the little girl was looking directly out the window at something with the utmost focus.

I shifted uncomfortably in place and watched the scene unfold. Something cold was trailing down my spine. I liked to keep things neat, and this felt like it was about to pick up my wardrobe and dump it outside onto my muddy lawn.

A couple voices kept demanding to know why we had stopped, and the homeless man somehow kept dozing. “Ooh,” the little girl touched the window and suddenly my eyes were drawn back to my own window.

The fog was dense to the point of nothingness, and beyond the fog seemed to be an even thicker night. I furrowed my brow and drew back into myself. Condensation was gathering on the other side of the window-- the type you might see when your warm breath touches glass.

A thin layer of white was spreading across the window and then I saw what the young girl was “oohing” at.

“Everyone, step back from the windows.” I heard myself saying, reasonably, in as a controlled manner as I could.

Little droplets had now formed on the other side of the glass and the white haze was thick and tangible. That’s not why I jumped back though. A perfectly formed fingerprint was pressed into the condensation there. A clear oval that was dragging down, down, down the window and creating one long, straight line.

There was nothing behind that finger. There was no body or hand or anything attached at all. Only the imprint that was meticulously drawing downward.

“What the fuck?!” The punk kid scrambled back from his window as well.

“What’s going on?” The college student said in a panic as more little finger tips pressed against the glass. Hands, but not hands. My heart squeezed in my chest and a flurry of possibilities went through my head: I was in a coma, I was asleep, I was asleep in a coma. I was dead.

I was dead and hell is a bus ride.

“Ah!” I jerked my head around again and saw the old man in heavy work pants standing by the front with his mouth wide and eyes as round as silver dollars. He was staring at the bus driver in the way one stares at their parents declaring a divorce.

“Ted…” I muttered and forced myself forward. I wrapped my hands around the bus poles with each step and the metal was almost freezing at each touch. I stumbled across the long space.

“Mommy, what is it?” The window next to the little ballerina was absolutely covered in those floating strokes carefully applied by invisible fingers. They were drawing spirals and zig-zags and something that I dearly hoped wasn’t a letter of the alphabet.

I made my way past the sleeping homeless man who still managed not to wake and all the way to the front of the bus where the old man was staring at Ted.

“He’s-He’s--” He stuttered at me and fell back against a metal pole next to the door.

“It’s alright, I’m a nurse.” I took a deep steadying breath. I had seen corpses plenty of times in my life and I knew how to keep myself focused on the tasks in front of me. Ted was slumped over and unmoving.

I reached for his arm first and picked up his limp wrist. I exhaled the second I reached his pulse and felt a faint thrum there. His skin was clammy and far too cold, but he was breathing. “Don’t look at the eyes.” The old man grabbed my shoulder. “Don’t look!”

I was never very good at averting my eyes when facing car crashes or jump scares in horror movies. He had a pulse. I needed to check for head injuries. I glanced at his face. Something was dripping down his cheeks in a steady flow.

I reached and tipped his chin up. I swallowed my scream before it could escape. His eyes were gummed shut with something black and bubbling. It was like tar that held both of his eyelids clamped closed and water was leaking out of the seams.

Droplets beaded down his cheeks and when I let his head fall again it leaked like rain down upon his lap. I stopped myself from heaving at the sight and looked downward. His foot was still on the gas, but we weren’t moving forward.

“Let’s go.” I ushered the old man away from Ted’s body. Something told me we shouldn’t touch it or be too close to it. We retreated back toward the other seats.

“E,” the little girl was tracing a letter in the condensation. Something outside was writing the letter E and then another letter next to it. “N.”

I walked down the center of the bus in a daze and the others looked at me. The disheveled college student stumbled toward us. “Is the driver alright?” I just shook my head and couldn’t find the words to explain that one of us was surely dreaming up a nightmare.

The punk kid was sitting in the center of the back seats clutching his bag to his chest and his earbuds were back in.

“Little girl.” A voice barked. I turned and suddenly I noticed that the homeless man had sat up and his clear blue eyes were darting around the space frantically. “Don’t touch the windows.” His voice was deep and smoke-beaten. “Again, again, again.” He repeated, “Don’t touch. Again.”

I looked back to the shapes being drawn in the window panes.

They were impossibly strange, but no sounds came from the drag of their fingers. In fact, I didn’t pick up any noises from the city at all: no honking, no sirens, no hums of life. I groped for the right words to try to make sense of this.

“Little girl!” The homeless man said sharply and he looked toward the closest window. “Don’t.” “Sheryl…” Her mother warned, but the little girl, Sheryl, kept tracing the letters the Things were drawing.

I watched in a trance, “T.” She said softly. “E.” I was watching the tip of her finger move when I caught the first glimpse.

My whole body froze like a jolt of ice pouring down my spine. Just beyond the invisible hand was a face submerged in the fog-- faint and shifting. It was hard to make out, but two black eyes drooped like runny eggs down it’s sunken cheeks and a mouth grotesquely frozen in a scream took shape for just a moment.

I grabbed for the mother, “everyone!” I found the energy to fill my words with urgency, “get away from the windows!” They all looked to me and I mustered every bit of my authority, “NOW!”

Reluctant shuffling followed. “Wait!” Sheryl protested as her mom picked her up and carried her to the center of the bus. “Wait!” She repeated, “it wasn’t finished.”

The fingers outside became more frantic as we retreated into the center of the bus as far away from the windows as we could get. They clawed and dragged and I could make out more and more faces, some with three fingers and some with seven. Faint outlines of the hands and faces morphed and danced just out in the darkness.

They never stood still or seemed to stop shifting and twisting as if unnaturally alive.

A shudder went through the small group as we huddled together like penguins being accosted by the arctic breeze. The punk boy was the last to reach us as he clung to his huge bag and entered the loose circle we created.

The old man was shifty-eyed and looked the most on edge. I kept an eye on him, as well as the homeless man who was hunched over into himself. “Again,” he muttered to himself. “Again.” The moments after we gathered were long and strained before anyone dared to speak and break the ghastly immense silence. “Something was wrong with the driver,” the old man finally announced as he looked to the fingers, “something is wrong here.” “Very wrong.” The college student echoed.

“Duh,” The pink kid said back with his teeth clenched.

“Perhaps it will be over soon.” I added softly, mostly speaking to myself.

“What’s everyone’s names?” I looked up as the homeless man finally broke himself upright again.

“What? Why?” The old man practically growled.

“Everyone here has got to have a name.” The homeless man’s blue eyes were still frantic and traveling faster than I thought they should back and forth across the space. “Got to have a name.”

“How do we know that will--” “Angela.” The mother spoke up. “And this is Sheryl. Have you seen this before?” She looked to him as if he must often see buses descend into hell before.

“I’m Rick.” He said without hesitating, “Angela, Sheryl,” he pointed to the college student as if to pose a question.

“Laura.” She said softly. Her hands were still shaking, but probably for different reasons now.

“Angela, Sheryl, Laura,” Rick almost sang and then prompted the old man to speak.

“I’m Drew.” The old man said hesitantly after a moment.

“And I’m Frieda.” I added as the punk kid spoke as well.

“I’m Jinu.”

A silence spread and I didnt know what I expected to happen from swapping names with a group of strangers. Sheryl was frowning deeply. She whispered, “We shouldn’t have left where they can see us.”

That made me look back to the people I was stuck with and I opened my mouth to ask Sheryl if she was alright.

Bring

We jumped as one when a sudden and angry sound crackled and shook the space.

Bring, bring

It was like the sound of an old phone back from the 90s. A classic, angry noise that ate up the whole area with its loud buzzing undertone.

Bring!

I felt my pocket and felt something vibrating there.

“It’s our phones…” Jinu said in a hush.

My phone was ringing. And I knew we were being hailed.

Bring, bring, bring

I felt sick.

Laura was the first to dig out her phone from her bright yellow purse and hold it in her hands.

Bring, bring

The iphone vibrated and almost shook its way out of her hands. It’s screen was completely black and something, something was making it ring. “What’s,” I couldn’t contain the question any longer. “What’s causing this?” No one answered me. Drew took out his phone next, a first generation android it looked like with a cracked screen that was just as black as the last one. Slowly, everyone except for Rick, extracted our phones and watched as they made the same cry together over and over again: bring, bring, bring, bring, bring.

I stared into the shiny black surface of mine. It was perfectly smooth and almost… too dark. A dark I had never seen before and reflected nothing back. It felt like it was eating the light up.

“Maybe,” Laura spoke up. “Maybe we could call the police.”

“It’s a little late for that honey.” Angela said with a forlorn sigh.

“Why are they ringing?” I asked dumbly.

“We shouldn’t answer.” Jinu growled and tossed his phone all the way to the other side of the bus.

Rick nodded, “Do. Not. Answer.” “But…” I frowned deeply. “We can’t stay here.” “We can’t answer either.” Rick said in his same husky, withered tone. Drew nodded and threw his phone away, I followed suit mostly to stop looking at the shiny blackness of the screen. Angela seemed to almost break hers as she chucked it away as well, and Laura was the last one. She gripped it tightly and looked up.

“What do you think those are?” She finally voiced our fears and looked back to the fingers and morphed faces. “Are they… are they what’s calling us?” I shrugged, “does it matter?” I glared, “we can’t risk it. Throw it away.” “What happened to the driver?” Laura whispered and I just shook my head. She threw her phone away.

We all looked at each other carefully, and then we waited.

--------

Time ticked by with an anonymous meaningless face. On some level I think most of us expected to wake up soon, or for the sun to rise or to have God yelled “pranked!” from somewhere up in the sky. At least, that’s what I was waiting for.

The bus was still, just as cold and faceless as before, immobile as it had ever been. Alone in the middle of the bridge and alone in no place at all. I had a switch knife I carried around that I now held in my clenched fists and the world stood still.

Empty, except for the constant, unending sound of the phones: bring, bring, bring. They chorused and buzzed on the other side of the bus as we huddled in the center. It was endless. People did what they could to distract themselves from their impossible voices.

Jinu put his headphones back in and turned them all the way up. Laura covered her ears with both hands and rocked back and forth in a ball. Rick gazed unseeingly up at the ceiling with a deep frown on his face. Drew was drawing something on his palm as if doing math equations on his skin.

I distracted myself by talking to the mother and daughter. “You want to be a prima ballerina when you grow up?” I asked softly as I watched Sheryl’s small face. Angela was still stroking her daughter’s head and holding her close as the minutes ticked by.

Bring, bring

“I want to dance in The Swan Lake,” she said factually. “I’m not good enough yet, but I will be.” I beamed. “I believe you.”

Bring, bring

“What do you do?” Angela asked and there was something forced about it.

“Nurse.” I said simply. “Though I came here for an app startup of all things.”

“Oh?”

Bring, bring, bring I wasn’t usually one for idle-chit-chat, but a damp coldness was working its way through my chest. I had already noticed that Laura was shivering fiercely.

“Yeah, we were going to change the world or something he said,” I rolled my eyes, “but it didn’t turn out that way of course.”

“What kind of app was it?” Sheryl was still looking to her window, but she seemed present enough.

“Oh, a ride sharing one. It was supposed to be a public minded service called ‘Democracy Bus.’ It was meant to help people get to the polls on voting days for free or get to civil rally's or debate parties,” I shook my head. “It never got off the ground.” Angela opened her mouth to respond, but seemed to be drained of some force within her.

Bring, bring

“That settles it.” Drew stood up with a hardened look on his face. “If I run I might make it to the other side of the bridge in a few minutes.” He nodded, “we were more than halfway to the other side by the time we stopped.”

We openly stared at the old man. Jinu took his headphones out, and Laura uncurled herself. Rick kept looking at the ceiling.

Bring, bring, bring

My mouth became a hard line, “We don’t want to let any of those things in here…” I whispered.

Drew dusted himself off, “I only need someone to pull the door open for a second. And beside,” his lips curled up, “we can’t exactly stay here and starve.” My skin prickled and I didn’t mention the fact I hadn’t felt hungry since the moment we stopped. I hadn’t felt thirsty either, or anything at all. Just cold. And damp.

“We’re not going out there.” Angela hissed first. “It’s too much of a risk.” She held her daughter tighter to her.

“Does anyone else have any ideas then?” Drew seethed. We were quiet.

Bring, bring

“Maybe we should answer one.” Laura said again, “just to see what happens.” She cocked her head to the side, “maybe they’ll let us go.”

“That sounds like an even worse idea than his.” Jinu said flatly.

“Don’t. Answer. The. Phones.” Rick finally joined the conversation and haltingly declared.

“Why not?” Drew narrowed his eyes icily, “What do you know?” Rick looked back up to the ceiling and set his jaw. Drew took a menacing step toward him, “What does he know?!”

“Oh,” Sheryl pointed, “Look. They’re trying again... E.” I looked up just in time to see the fingers all in one motion write the letter “E” over and over again on each window. I swallowed thickly. “We should all cover our eyes.” I announced, “We need to wait this out.”

Bring, bring, bring! Drew shook his head. “We just gotta open the door for a moment. I’ll go get help.” Angela looked like she was ready to pounce on him. “I told you! It’s too risky, there’s children aboard.”

“A child who keeps trying to communicate with them!”

The fingers were now writing “N” over and over again on every surface of the windows that there were. “N” She read softly.

“Guys,” I repeated and my voice rose, “I think we should cover our eyes.” “T,” Sheryl muttered and I dove for her first.

“Cover your eyes!” I screeched and slapped a hand over her gaze so that she couldn’t read it anymore.

Bring, bring!

“This is crazy!” Jinu started stumbling backward away from the group.

“Don’t leave us!” I reached for him as well.

“No!” Rick shouted, “I told you not to!”

I turned just on time to see Laura crawling toward her phone. She pressed on the screen with one finger and brought it to her face, “hello?” “E.” Sheryl said as my fingers slipped and the whole world came crashing down around us.

“Get back! Get away from her!” Rick pushed the three of us he could reach toward the back of the bus. Jinu let out a wordless scream and Drew reached for Laura.

“Young lady?” Laura’s face was completely contorted as she stood up. Her mouth opened in a grotesque snarl as her jaw jutted out awkwardly to the side. Her eyes were lifeless and started to leak drips of water down her cheeks.

She moved all at once-- like strings were unevenly tied to her knees. She took one jerky, tin step forward and then another.

“Drew,” I hissed and reached for him. “Get back.” “She’s so young,” he muttered. “She’s so young. Can you hear me?” The water was running down Laura’s cheeks like a faucet now and I couldn’t look away as her eyes sunk into their sockets. The white disappeared first into some unseen blackness. I pulled Drew back with all my physical strength and Laura took another step forward.

Could we fight her? Could we fight these things?

I took my knife out and slashed the air in front of us as she took her unpleasant, rigid steps forward. Her eyes had all but sunken into her head and her hanging mouth was now dripping water that smelled of something like mold and damp earth.

“Stay back,” I hissed and slashed the air again. “I’ll kill you.” To my surprise she turned. She faced one of the windows, the one that Sheryl has been sitting at only hours before back in the sunlight world. She touched the glass tentatively and the fingers repeated their last letter over and over again. Sheryl said a final ringing letter, “R.” ENTER.

I hugged myself and held my breath, bracing for the worst.

The windows did not break open though and the distorted faces did not slither inward. Laura got up onto the seat and started pressing into the window. Her eyes were completely gone and her ears and mouth and eyes were all steadily running over with streams of water.

It was wrong. It was hard to watch as she hands pressed gradually through the glass in an impossible manner.

It was a slow and painful process as she joined the mist. Hands grabbed her and pulled at her, her hair came loose and fell down her shoulders, and one of the people beside me started sobbing.

“It’s taking her…”

Someone started humming, Jinu I think. It was a sad and reluctant song that carried soberingly through the space. He hummed a funeral march just as she was tugged through the window and off into the white expanse with no name.

Our phones stopped ringing all at once and the fog began to lift as if in a dream. The next procession was mechanical and done in complete silence. We picked up our cracked phones and returned to our seats.

I didn’t know what compelled us, but I knew it had to be done. I knew we had to return to our exact same spots.

I took my seat at the back of the bus with my head bowed downward and Jinu sat across from me with his eyes focused on the skyline. Angela and Sheryl sat close and fixed in place. Rick went back to sleep. Drew sat closest to the driver and watched Ted sit up again.

Lights appeared beside us. Sounds of cars and bikers and voices reappeared. Headlights blinked on the other side of the road. Ted started the engine again. And we drove.

The bus rumbled onward through the beautiful dark night and city.

The only sign that we had ever been trapped in some place beyond here was the fact that my face was wet with tears and that there was an empty seat in front of me. I couldn’t remember her name though.

I looked down at my phone and I had 127 missed calls from “UNKNOWN” and a very brief text message from the same number. All it read was “again” and “enter.”

I closed my eyes and figured maybe it was time to move back home.

#writeblr #horror #writers on tumblr #supernatural #short story #original story #my work #creepy story #cw: body horror

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alchemabotana · 3 years ago

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Horoscopes for the Summer Solstice 2021

Antonina “Little Thunder” Whaples - @whaplesantonina

If you find these astrological musings useful for your current journey or life path, please consider paying it forward by voting for me as Ms. Health and Fitness 2021 for Muscle and Fitness Hers Magazine front cover. Voting is every 24 hours and is free, unless you’d like to bump my votes with a “warrior” vote donation for disabled veterans. I am currently in 5th place in my division, and appreciate your support: https://mshealthandfitness.com/2021/antonina

Digital Painting “The Sacred Mountain Jomeokee,” by Antonina Whaples

Horoscopes for the Summer Solstice 2021

11:31pm EST N. Hemisphere, Sunday June 20th 2021

We welcome the turning of the seasonal year & mark the pinnacle of the Sun’s radiative force as Summer Solstice opens us to Cancer Season. This season of the water sign brings us the warm waters of Spirit to soothe the collective experience of the internalized personal battles stirred up during Mars in Cancer. In it’s echo, we turn to the Archer, Sagittarius, to take those hard won personal lessons of the past season as fuel for the fire of the next movements ahead. With Saturn and Mars opposing each other, it may seem that tensions are still what’s holding everything together. However, with Mars protected by Saggitarius, and Saturn being homed in the cool interior of the Aquarian, we may see tensions become bridges, and complaints become solutions quicker than we could have imagined. With these forces in homes that like to get things done, and not at the expense of others, we may want to check in on our strong friends. With Mercury Rx trining Saturn in Aquarius, there are large backroom system updates churning away at the etherium of our mental banks. Past problems, patterns, scenarios, and conflicts may appear in your consciousness, but not be actually reflective of the world outside you. Take this time to appreciate the dimensionality of the human experience, our relationship to perceived time constraints, and the pieces of your identity you’re willing to bring back, or let go of, in order to make the next quantum leap. This Solstice may feel like a true cathartic experience of release for many, with much of this release coming from the work of the prior eclipse work done intentionally or otherwise. The Past comes through for us in unseen ways, as the monsters, myths, and legends of our ancestral lineages & collective human condition, come to the council meetings of our inner spirits to help us ascend to an improved iteration of the stories of our lives.

Aries:

On this sacred Solstice day you can best support your internal needs by focusing on problems that do not distract you from your feelings of internal balance. When our fire feels out of place, or as if it has been stolen in some way, we can tend to look at ourselves in too negative a light. Refocusing your gaze on activities and pleasures that act as the Tiger Balm of your psychic muscles will help your recalibration efforts that have been secretly keeping your wires running a bit hot. There is always time to re-compartmentalize the data you’ve invested in, as well as space to enjoy the new ways of thinking that are not-so-secretly your thing. With this watery opening, remember that steam is a great way to open your aura and vent out the pieces of psychic and emotional debris that has been weighing you down. Embracing self-care as the to-do of the day will have your mental streams flowing into all new pockets of intel easily digestible by your system updates.

I hold my words as sacred to me. I’ve learned how powerful my words can be to me, and the world around me. I recall that I can ground my feelings of uncertainty in the changing world around me with my words. I choose empowering words that bring me joy, and let the planetary duels go on without me. I’m a warrior and I use this Solstice Energy to let go and honor the battles of my past by honoring my present. I create a sacred space inside myself to process experiences I have not yet found the words for. I trust the guidance of my intuition, and learn to read my signals in an epic feat of self-discovery, which I can choose to share or keep private. I enjoy a sense of self worth as I remember my growth and honor the goodness of my human nature.

Taurus:

This hot spot of activity in the turning of the wheel could be poking at a few sore spots in your emotional world. It’s best in these situations to watch out for unanticipated hungers and desires that seem forbidden - not because they actually are, but because your system is upgrading naturally to new experiences of pleasure. It’s ok to feel a bit off balance, especially if things in your work/career experience seem too good to be true, or your focus is drawn to the neverending litany of mistakes and errors you’ve been quietly tidying up. The good news is that problem-solving unnecessarily is about to get a facelift of some sort from a mysterious sector of beneficiary energy. In your in-between times of rest and respite, let yourself feel the inherent recharge of the season as a blessing meant especially for you. Laying in the soft pasture of your pastimes is definitely approved of by the Gods at this particular juncture.

I am thirsty for relief in major abstract areas of my life. I am beginning to see dimensions of these abstractions come into focused clarity, and the definitions are a bit jarring. However, as I define my parameters for a healed daily experience of life, a sense of calm greets my future. In this space of duality, I send healing to myself, recognizing that I am an important asset to myself. I do not need worldly praise, although I know I am worthy of it when it appears. In his healed state of grounded ego, I can look at myself with the compassion I’ve been craving to receive from the world outside.

Gemini:

This Solstice is a rare opportunity to return to yourself in all the ways you’ve been craving. You’ve been peeking into your secret closets of spiritual, psychic, and sexual resources and you kinda gotta admit you’ve got a lot to work with. The mirror that your shadow provides has been pointing you down certain rabbit holes of self appreciation and maturity since this past eclipse. You’ve begun to realize that you allow certain Spirits to pass through your gateways, and it is entirely possible to change the passcode on the wormhole’s gateway. Less of a struggle with your duality, your recent healing journeys have brought you to a place of integration and stability in your identities. There may still be things you are not yet ready to look at from the past, but you trust the spiral of the universe will lead you through the experiences necessary to feel as whole as you really are. This Solstice invites you to close the curtains, turn down the volume, and rest into the spirit of curiosity that most piques your fancy today.

I come face to face with my shadow self regularly, and I need not be afraid of my abilities to compartmentalize complex trauma. When I meet my shadow in the world around me, I see an opportunity to integrate my communication methods. I know that I process vast seas of information regularly, and I thrive when I’m consuming a vast array of juicy tidbits. I stop to breathe and enjoy the flowers, and I make sure to look up at the skies above me. I know that wherever I am, I am at home and connected, when I feel comfortable exploring what it means to “be myself”. There’s no reason to fear when others' needs are louder than my own, because I know there are still magic algorithms working in the background to help me navigate.

Cancer

You’re feeling a bit louder and prouder than you’ve allowed yourself to feel in quite some time. Maybe it has something to do with slaying the dungeon boss on that last level of intergalactic video game of life? Whatever you’ve recently conquered is feeding your home and community, and that is just the panacea for your warrior heart. You’ve swung the hook of Valour on your medicine pack, and it’s no surprise that your shine is quite attractive to the fishies of the sea. You can choose what schools to harvest from, and it’s important to you to be seen and loved for the intellectual matters you bring to the table. Your feelings often inform your thoughts, and you’ve come to understand that might be what’s missing from the world around you right now. Don’t shy away from the beaches or the rays being cast upon your exterior motivations - turns out, you already knew it, they’re the manifestation of your internal work & people can’t help but listen to your come-up!

My sense of self can rapidly shift within myself, and sometimes it feels scary to set boundaries with my own self. I’ve been feeling extra shiny in certain aspects of my sense of self, and I’m becoming more aware of what is mine to offer to the world. When I am confronted by the spirals of the universe, I ground myself in sacred awareness of my connection to the Great Mysteries of life. The depth and breadth of the waters of life call me to define spaces within my ocean of emotions where I can chill, be industrious, communicate authentically, and grow. I give myself a gold star for the growth I’ve made so far in the coral reefs of self restoration.

Leo

You’ve been inspired by the movement of the seasons towards the tone of sunlight that recalls your forthcoming rebirth, Leo. You’ve worked too hard, and too long, and for much too little to not recognize when the Gods themselves are raining down the magical fairy dust of your preference into the spheres of life that need the extra grease to make your motor hum. It’s ok to while away the hours just looking at the flowers at the tea party of your creation. You’ve been looking for a moment to invite a mental list of allies to your inner sepulchre where Kingly rewards await them. This is a pivotal time for recalling the power of your influence on the energies to come for many in your community. Instead of anxiously awaiting the arrival of fortune, you are able to ground yourself in truisms gained from a lifetime of watchful awareness. Tune into the rhythms of your soul to find the right cadence for your upcoming symphony debut.

I carefully test my re-entry to the Pride. I’ve developed a strong sense of community duty, and the fulfillments of those obligations was worth my effort. I can see clearly my impact on my community and feel a sense of grace and ease in the unfolding of this seasonal breeze. I use this eclipse to hunt the horizons of my psychic periphery, knowing that personal boundaries need not be treacherous territory. I am in awe and inspired by the mystery of the circle of life, and I find within this meditation, a place to use my energy for the highest purposes.

Virgo

This Solstice moment brings a recharge to the spaces in your creations that you’ve been abstracting for some time. As the picture becomes more clear, you find yourself refreshed to find that you don’t need to fine-tooth comb-over the facts, details, and opinions flowing through your consciousness. Instead, when you’re able to find the moment inside the moment, you are able to create new portals of connection between your tabulated reference points in time:space reality. You’ve been transversing the realms of the Gods supplicating for keys to unlock gateways even they didn’t know existed. Don’t be discouraged by the roles and archetypes of your family/community centers when you check back in for more data on the status of Love in your life experience, you may be surprise to find the speakers just weren’t set at the right volume. More than anything, the Solstice itself pays honor to your goddess-like stature in the earthly spiritual realm, giving you resources to grow and spread the vines you most wish to cultivate.

When I choose to use time as a mile marker for reflection, I remember to build in new generosity for myself on the next round of self mastery. I don’t apologize for the pace the treadmill of life forced me to run, but I’m willing to accept that the treadmill is transforming and my new experience begins to feel like a cosmic dance. Looking around, I can see the planets and stars are moving to a drum beat I can easily attune with and this helps me move smoothly through the spot-lights I walk under daily. When I shine my torch into the darkness of my fears around perfection, I take a deep breath and accept the quality of my work.

Libra

This Solstice is your chance to balance on the winds of time. The celestial storm clouds will settle the scores you haven’t had the energy to tally up for the cosmic account keepers that knock on your doors of consciousness. Forgiveness is a friend of yours, and you’ve found ways to communicate to this friend your need for space, time, and ultimately: boundaries. Forgetfulness is not a close companion, and you’re being encouraged by the growth of new generations of heart-filled warrior spirits to let your burdens be lightened (at least the psychic ones!). As the earth itself comes into celestial balance in the scales of the universal tow, so your scales of justice meet at just the right angles to allow safe passage for yourself, and others, to a promised land of personal liberation. What this liberation contains is ineffable courage to be and define yourself.

I am a universal quantifier and qualifier, adding the standards of the system I was created to define to the larger collective. I understand that my ability to weigh any situation is informed by the object of the inquiry. I choose to object to judgements that use me as the instrument. I can look at the past scenarios popping up for my attention and level the playing fields of the fair-and-square variety, with the power of my spirit. I use this eclipse to connect with communications & positive influences of the past as I moor my boat and wait for the right time to set sail again.

Scorpio

On this Summer Solstice you are pleased to discover that all the fairies, gnomes, wee creatures of the land, and other critters of the spiritual realm have accepted your invitation to convene for conference. In the quiet nooks and crannies of your subconscious, to the secret spaces you build and find retreat in, the healers of the land take you by the hand and call you a friend. On this day it would encourage your spirit and charge your secret batteries to find time to whisper to the winds you believe carry prayers. As the elements of nature converge to recreate the Earth for another seasonal spiral, you can be the catalyst for change the more you believe in your power as an animal of the earth. You are learning and evolving at a rapid rate, and this grounded meditation on your connection to the Sacred Circle of Life expands you into the identities waiting for your perfect fit.

As the season rotates, I pay special attention to my early experiences of warmth. I notice where and when it feels sage to share my emotions with others, and find relief in my own solitary experiences of beauty. I am co-creating on multiple layers of my personal and family realities. I tune myself into my power anthems of life to find the right vibrations for my focus on the present. I want to use this eclipse to find hidden caves and nooks where the small things can be appreciated. I am practicing new ways of being with myself and the scenarios my imagination reveals to me as inspiration for an archetype only I can define.

Sagittarius

This Summer Solstice gets especially toasty as you learn to actualize your various power sources and fuel supplies. You have been the secret scientist of your own soul, and you’ve got a lot of internalized data to download into a worthy project. Although the bumps along the road of the past year have been jolting, you have also realized that this spaceship could have blown a gasket a while ago if you weren’t so good at wielding that long-term magic. In fact, you’re so good at the longer vision, that you’ve been surprised to discover special pockets of untapped potential in stashes of energy you planted for yourself to find along the way. Paired with new discoveries of ancestral investment into your sacred identity, these resources remind you of your potential for growth, and the security you have in the patterns that create successes.

This Solstice I tie a rope to my arrow and go deep sea diving for hidden treasures in the emotional realms. In this underwater kingdom I discover channels of air-pressure release, ventings to let off steam, and ways to safely grow and contain my regenerative fiery spirit. I call on these powers of restorative calmness to empower my missions in life, and command the respect deserving of my very existence. No matter the oaths or promises of the past, I recognize that self-loyalty is a virtue, not a sin: “to thine own self be true”.

Capricorn

The Summer Solstice is a special retreat for you this year, dear Capricorn. You embody the merriment of Pan along the labyrinth of your inner workings. You’ve been inspired by the tales of the past to create visions for the future, and this Solstice acts as a gateway (not just a path) through the space:time continuum you’ve been awaiting an escape to. But it’s more than an escape, this opening leaves a lingering effect in your psyche, allowing you to bring back medicine from the land of the Giants for the village people awaiting your proclamations. If they’re not listening now, those who have the capacity to tune into your transmissions might be looping back around to catch your vibrations when the Full Moon lights up your sign’s splendor June 24th 2021.

As I reach another pinnacle of self discovery, I allow myself to heal by accepting real love into my mind and heart centers. In this space I allow myself to forgive others in the ways I allow forgiveness for myself. When I reach this reflection within me, I use the light of my higher self to empower my healing journey. I accept that on a journey with no destination, I can take the time I need to view all the peaks, valleys, and pinnacles of life’s successes. I am a free and easy wanderer in my own spiritual way, and this freedom within empowers my daily ritual success. I return to my herd when the signals are right, and share my wandering tales as the bard of my own campfire.

Aquarius

Although you’ve not so secretly been trying to go hard on yourself through these last few eclipses, you can give Saturn a place to chill out of the heat of the Solstice Sun by recognizing the work you’ve accomplished against all odds. Your sacrifices need a special space to be honored in during this seasonal shift, and you’d be wise to water your soul with the sounds, sights, and feelings that make you want to cross any horizon for the abstract experiences your soul has been craving. Instead of contrast, this Solstice celebration brings you vibrations of hues, tones, and shapes that give focused healing to the centers of your mental staples that feel un-pronged. You may want to create a pillow fort where your inner child can let out their emotions, so that you can discover the words you’ve been searching for. Things feel less topsy turvy when the spirit world is partying with everyone else, and it's ok to use this moment to isolate the things that mean the most to you. It’s not like you ever really check out anyway, so when you do allow yourself the journeys of internal dreaming, know you’re safe to do so.

As I watch the clouds traversing the skies, I’m reminded that expansion is a friend of mine. I’ve learned to hone my vibrational awareness and I tune out or eradicate frequencies within & without myself to conquer my fears. I am a cosmic warrior of superb proportions and to unwarily go sparring is not a quest I seek. I seek to conquest the unknown regions of myself, and strive to make room for myself during these gemstone level uploads, downloads, and reprogramming. I make sure that I have plenty of water for the gardens of my consciousness, and I feel safe knowing the good seeds I’ve planted within myself were worth sowing and cultivating.

Pisces

You know how to move information along the waterways of the human experience. Through your feelings you make small ripples find their waves and wash into the right bays. This Solstice the water magic meets-up, harmonizing with the deep resources Earth holds for our continuous growth. You can be sure that your wells won’t be drying up anytime soon, and that your internal psychic resources have a part to play in that. When you take time to name the gifts that others rarely do, you give those gifts permission to grow. Right now your gifts of many flavors and varieties are ripening on the trees and bushes you’ve cultivated in your personal emotional and spiritual Oasis. This Solstice as the sun casts its haze into the deserts of your life, notice how the heat waves keep your temples of beauty hidden, and where the shadows cast are hidden passageways meant for future exploration. In this sacred matrix of rejuvenated protection, the Solstice asks you to enjoy your own personal genius.

I’ve been shedding pieces of myself in the past:present that is allowing fuel for the passion of purpose in my life. I am a philosopher of Eudaimonia, and I find new ways of flourishing regularly. My energetic pulse sends out ripples of shift, growth, and change simply through my existence here on this planetary mass called Earth. I am aware that my very nature asks me to speak my message on the waves of the moon’s scheduled tides. I am no stranger to emotionally informed phenomena and I can speak clearly to the nuances of my school of fishes. I’m my own iconic merecreature, and my propensity for spirit connection guides me to new healing modalities that build this freedom kingdom within me.

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cosmopoliturtle · 5 years ago

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I just realized once you’re done redesigning everything.. I’m gonna be a little sad! But then I’ll realize I can still go back and look at your old art and it’ll be somewhat okay. x)

Aw. XD It'll be weird for sure, but we still got some time with the expansions and such coming out and potential Beta Pokemon. Also I'm sure Pokemon will probably keep going well past a normal human's life span, so there will always be more in the future, and hopefully whatever new projects I come up with in the meantime will be just as neat c:

I appreciate your mindset-- I feel like one of my least favourite aspects of the internet has how fast everyone feels the need to consume everything. I feel like it should be the opposite since the internet preserves work but people always want the new shiny thing. I don't think anyone should rest on their laurels necessarily but I have a lot of old pieces that I still value immensely because of what they meant at the time or because I liked the imagery I came up with or whatever and it makes me slighly disheartened most people wouldn't normally bother checking them out.

I feel like newsfeed-stream of content environment leads a lot of artists to burn out or makes them hate pieces they did from just like, a month ago since they become irrelevant to an arbitrary algorithm. Some people just be that way and that's fine but its kind of become engrained into the virtual landscape and I wish people would just slow down.

#Anonymous

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superboy1992 · 1 year ago

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AI and Household Robots: A Tale of Cutting Planning Time in Half

Picture this: you're knee-deep in household chores, wishing for a magic wand to make it all go away. Or better yet, a robot to do it all for you. Well, welcome to 2023, where household robots are as common as smartphones. But there's a twist in our tale. These robots, as efficient as they are, have been facing a bit of a pickle when it comes to planning tasks. Enter our hero: Artificial Intelligence (AI). So, sit back, grab a cup of coffee (made by your robot, of course), and let's dive into this riveting tale of how AI is helping household robots cut planning time in half. The Problem: Time-Consuming Planning for Household Robots In the not-so-distant past, our robot friends had a bit of a hard time. They were great at doing tasks, but planning them? Not so much. It was like watching a reality show where the contestants are running around like headless chickens, trying to figure out what to do next. The robots could vacuum your carpet, do your dishes, even make your bed, but figuring out the most efficient way to do these tasks was a challenge. It was like trying to solve a Rubik's cube while juggling - possible, but not exactly a walk in the park. The Solution: AI to the Rescue Just when things were looking as grim as a rainy day, in came our hero: AI. With its shiny algorithms and data-crunching capabilities, AI was ready to take on the challenge of task planning. Picture AI as a time-saving superhero, swooping in with its cape made of binary code, ready to streamline the planning process for our robot friends. AI's Superpowers: PIGINet and Machine Learning Our superhero AI came equipped with an arsenal of superpowers. It had PIGINet, a system that could filter feasible tasks and reduce planning time, faster than a cheetah can run a 100-meter dash. It also had machine learning capabilities that could learn from past tasks, improving efficiency quicker than a kid can finish a candy bar. For instance, AI could analyze past tasks performed by the robot, learn from them, and then use this knowledge to plan future tasks more efficiently. It was like having a super-intuitive robot coach who could spot a potential inefficiency and nip it in the bud. Moreover, AI could also predict potential issues that might arise in the future. It's like having a crystal ball that gives you a heads-up about future challenges, allowing the robot to take proactive steps to prevent them. Now, if only it could predict lottery numbers too! The Impact: Robots on a Roll With AI's intervention, our household robots started to transform. The time-consuming planning gave way to streamlined processes, inefficiencies were replaced by optimization, and the robots became as efficient as a Swiss watch. Robots felt more confident, households were happier, and the planning time was cut in half. The benefits of this transformation were evident. Robots were more efficient, households were cleaner, and even the family pets seemed to be happier. It was like a household fairy tale come true. Looking Ahead: The Future of AI and Household Robots As we look to the future, it's clear that AI's adventures in optimizing household robots are far from over. Picture AI with a futuristic suit, equipped with even more advanced features, ready to take on the challenges of the future household. There might be new challenges to face, like more complex tasks or the risk of over-reliance on AI. But knowing our superhero AI, it's ready to take on these challenges head-on. With continuous advancements in technology and a commitment to enhancing household efficiency, AI is all set to continue its mission of revolutionizing household robots. Conclusion So there you have it, folks! Our tale of how AI, the superhero of household efficiency, is helping robots cut planning time in half. From battling planning inefficiencies to transforming household robots, AI has truly proven to be the hero we need. As we look to the future, it's clear that AI will continue to play a pivotal role in optimizing household robots. And while it might not wear a cape or have a catchy superhero theme song, there's no denying that AI is here to save the day in our households! In the end, household chores are inevitable, just like the Monday morning blues. But with AI in our corner, managing these chores doesn't have to be a daunting task. So, let's embrace AI, let's embrace change, and let's transform our households into homes of the future. After all, as the saying goes, the only constant in life is change. And with AI, we can add: the only constant in household chores is innovation! This article was originally published on my blog: https://www.cosgle.com Read the full article

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antique-teacups · 5 years ago

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Look Beyond the Lens, pt. 2

Hey kids, I finally wrote part two. I actually worked on it off and on for the past couple of weeks. I struggled with where I wanted it to go. Hope you enjoy it!

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In the weeks that followed, Y/N iced David out. It was more than just ignoring his phone calls. It was skipping out on group hangouts, leaving as soon as he arrived, removing herself from his social media presence. Practically scrubbing him out of her orbit. It was the whole nine yards. If the video didn’t exist, no one would have connected the two. Suddenly the tundra of the Arctic Circle seemed more welcoming than being in the presence of the two.

The tension between the two seeped into the group, especially Matt. Y/N didn’t give Matt an ultimatum, but knew if he chose David, that was answer enough. Matt understood where she was coming from but also stood at odds with it in a sense. Some of the group sided with David, while others choose Y/N’s side. The group faced a great divide, one that she felt guilty and responsible for. Was it her place to divide people who stood for one another before she came into the picture?

“Matt, he’s trying to buy my forgiveness, which I refuse to give. I am not sure David even understands the magnitude of what he did. He brushed it off like he could fix with a signature on some extravagant gift.”

“I know that, I see everything he’s doing. But you must give the guy a chance to make up for it. You aren’t even giving him room to speak. I guess I just don’t understand that part.” Matt explained, a sorry look in his eye. “I am not saying that you two need to go frolicking in some field holding hands, I am just saying this is effecting everyone. I understand you’re hurt and angry about losing your job, but what about my relationship with all these people? My relationship with you?”

“I never meant to make you feel like you had to play mediator between us. I never meant for it to become this battle either. I know these people are your friends, some of them are mine too. I guess I just…I don’t know what I expected honestly.” You explain, looking Matt in the eyes. Trying to make him understand was difficult. You wanted to blame the entire thing on David, paint him the bad guy.

He was misguided in his choice to put that clip up, that much you knew. David showed loyalty to those he loved. He was someone to put his neck out there, no matter what it might cost him. Matt displayed the same quality. Matt was warm and loving. Seemingly reading your mind without much effort.

“Can I talk to him? Friend to friend. I want to fix this if I can. I know that your job was really important to you. But I also know David is sorry. Trust me, between me and Natalie, he has gotten an ear full. Sometimes people do things without thinking about what might happen, which is exactly what he did. Heath and Zane, you’ve forgiven them. I mean, Heath did bribe you, which you accepted. Why can’t you let David?” Matt questioned. He was really trying to unite the entire group again.

You didn’t know how hard this was for him, to be stuck between everyone. He felt that either way he leaned he was making a mistake. All of these people were his family, you especially. He didn’t want to push you to forgive David but he also wasn’t sure if he could survive being stuck in the middle.

“I can’t have you fighting my battle, Matt. I’ll talk to him myself. This is between David and I, right? It should have never of seeped into dividing the group. It also wasn’t my place to put you between us, which I am sorry for.” You said, feeling a bit ashamed.

“I know that was never your intention. I know you would never make me choose, but I am worried that if this goes on much longer, it will be expected of me.” Matt relented.

“Matt, I’ll meet him for coffee or something and talk about everything, I promise. I owe it you. I owe it to myself. I love you and I’m sorry for not seeing what kind of situation I was putting you in.”

Matt eyed you up, “Do you want me to go with?”

“I think I can handle this one along, bub.” You cheeked, tossing a wink in Matt’s direction. Nervousness settled in your chest. David was hard to understand sometimes, his motivate was muddy and his reaction was malicious, but you owed it to Matt. The two of you agreed to meet at a small café on the north side of LA. It was small and quiet, a place with a bit more privacy than a bustling Starbucks.

The entire drive, you tried to think of what you might possibly say, of what David might say. Your nervousness grew and quelled like the ocean. You never meant for this to snowball, the entire thing felt rather naïve. The amount of hurt and shame you felt from losing your job was exponential, but in time diminished. Yet, you couldn’t forgive David. He was trying to win you back over with gifts and didn’t feel bad. Forgiveness rested just beyond his reach if he were willing to admit he was in the wrong.

Whipping your car into a vacant spot, you scoure the parking lot for David’s Tesla. Not seeing it, you figure he’s just running a bit behind schedule. Hoping out of your car, you head inside to grab a table and wait. Surprisingly enough, David’s waiting in line to order. He wears his emotions on his face, his mind clearly dominated by nerves.

“Hey, I didn’t see your car.” You mention.

“I had Natalie drop me off. I figured if this goes horribly, my punishment is walking home.” David jokes, his eyes settling anywhere but your face.

You chuckle, “So optimistic Dobrik. Decide on something to get yet?” You wanted to keep the conversation light till you sat down. There were far to many people in ear shot for you to risk saying to much. Once the conversation started you figured they would all be listening in for bits.

David looks at you with confusion written on his face, “I really only drink Starbucks and that’s pretty rare.”

“If it’s cool, I’ll wing man you and order for both of us.” You wanted to try and smooth this over so if it meant swallowing your pride, so be it.

“Only if you let me pay.”

“I think you owe me.”

“Right for the throat.” David chuckles, a sheepish look on his face. You didn’t mean to let it slip but it just came out. While you two waited for drinks you tried to keep the conversation light and banter to a minimum. You didn’t want him to think he was totally off the hook. You weren’t yet extending an olive branch.

David led you a table near the back of the shop by the windows. The sun shone through the window brightly, glaring off the shiny table to your eyes. Your side facing the window was warmed instantly, yet you could feel the chill of anxiety run through you. The two of you sat in silence for a moment, before you started.

“I guess I need to know why. Why you were so naive and blatantly ignored my request. That’s the part I cannot wrap my head around. You ruined one of the best things I had going for me.” You said, a mixture of anger and hurt painting your features.

Guilt swarmed in David’s eyes and for a moment you wanted to console him. Then you remembered who put you in this situation.

“Honestly, I am not sure why. I knew you were worried about what might happen, but I thought maybe it you were blowing it out of proportion. It couldn’t possible end with you jobless and me the biggest asshole around.”

“We both know that’s one weak excuse. David, do you still not see the capacity of what you’ve done? Because of us, the group sits at odds like some middle school playground fight. My relationship with Matt is strained. I lost my job. Do I need keep going? You really weren’t thinking. You have people to fall back on, brand deals, people want you. I’ve got nothing but my writing. I do not exist in the same public eye you do, I knew what might happen. I choose to intervene because no one else was. I did the right thing and got fucked over.” You sternly state, looking him right in the eyes. You wanted him to see all things you couldn’t say, like how you cried because of him, for him.

“Y/N, do you write because you enjoy it or because it gives you purpose?” David inquires.

Visibly you are taken back, “I write because there are parts of me that never feel real expect when I’m writing. I can fabricate something to transport people. I am the words at the same I’m not. What does this have to do with anything?” David has an expression that’s unreadable. Settling somewhere between contemplation and sadness, his brows deepen, and his smile lessens.

“When I started YouTube, it was purely because I loved creating videos. That was entire motivation behind it, that was my purpose. I recognize that I should be endlessly thankful for the life I have, the opportunities I’ve gotten. Yet, at the same time, I almost wish I could revert back to that old version of me.”

“I’m confused what this…”

“I am only important when I can offer something to people, when my personality fix whatever algorithm their trying to use. My identity is my YouTube videos. Yet, I see myself as more. Most people see me as a dollar sign. I read a lot of your writing was entranced. I couldn’t believe that I knew this incredible writer who could turn a simple scene into wonderland. This jealousy sparked in my chest.

“I felt wronged by the industry. I could never be on that level. I think the primal part of my brain took over when the clip saved to my memory card. My jealous burned bright and I posted it for an entirely wrong reason. I wanted to see if you could survive like me. If I could survive like you.”

“You cannot actually think that David,” you glossed right over the rest of it. “People love you because of your heart, your humor, your persistence. No one in the group sees you as a dollar sign. I do not see you as a dollar sign.”

David practically rolls his eyes, “I ruin your career and you end up consoling me.”

“And?”

“Shouldn’t you be screaming, telling me how terrible I am?”

“What would that fix? I just want this over with. I love Matt and this is straining our relationship. I had an entire speech about how much of an asshole you are, were, but it seems fabricated. Mostly, I want you to know that what you did really hurt me. I knew we weren’t close but I didn’t expect you stab me right in the back like that. If you thought I was such a good writer, why did you ruin a chance I had at making it.”

“I know, what did was seriously fucked up. But if you would’ve answered my calls, you would have known. I had a chat with the directors, greased some palms, and you have your spot back. Granted, they said it’s on a probationary basis, but they should be lucky to have you back. I want to spend however long it takes making it up to you. I was blinded by jealously because I want what you have. I want my art to speak for me but still be my own person. Which, is why I would like to ask for your help.”

You couldn’t help but feel elated, “It was never a bribe, it was my job back. Is the bribe me helping you?”

“No, you helping me is on the premise that you’ll help me publish local youth. You seem like the kind of person will follow, I seem like the kind of person see dollar signs from.”

“David, I never saw a dollar sign from you. I saw David and I saw my friend. I see my friend here today. This is the guy who world needs to see. I know I still need to work on getting over this, but we are heading in the right direction.”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

“And thank you David, for proving both of us wrong. You’re a great guy, one I would love to help.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist:

@winchestergirl907

#david dobrik x reader #david dobrik imagine #davids vlogs #david dobrik #david x reader #angst #bros now #vlog squad

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cardandpixel · 4 years ago

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9 Board Game YouTubers I Follow & Why (plus a few others)

In the literal dim and distant past when I started boardgaming (honestly, the biggest threat was tallow wax on your board), the internet was still accessed by whatever IP address you could remember off the top of your head (there’s no place like 127.0.0.1 as they sayI) - and the only TikTok was the clock ticking, waiting for half of Louise Nurding’s left leg to download only to realise it was Anne Widdecombe and you’d hit the wrong link on a BB. Boardgames had some quiet and shady corners of the internet, in those same Bulletin Boards, there was one for HeroQuest and Space Crusade when they came out. But sadly, if you wanted to see a boardgame being played or learn the rules, you either had to go round to your friend Tim’s house where he had a new chits-for-days wargame going, or sit down and actually read the rulebook yourself. As a result, I bought some interesting games in my time, including a game called Operation Overlord - a mighty chit-tastic WW2 N African campaign monster that I bought in desperation from the Games Workshop in Manchester on the first morning that it opened in 1979 (?) as we were so far back in the queue that there wasn’t a space marine to be had for miles. But now, we have a plethora of kindly folk available on our blistering shiny Windows NT 486sx machines to inform and delight us in full 8-bit glory. Everything from reviews, buying guides, rules tutorials and even painting & crafting guides, we can be bathing in just about whatever aspect of board or wargaming we so desire in an effort to stave off the clattering realisation that it’s been over 3 months since we spent any quality time with another breathing soul outside our houses. The question gets frequently asked on boardgame FaceAche forums “What YouTube channels are worth my time and why?” so in an effort to throw my own towel into that controversial ring, here’s my pick of probably 9ish, maybe more by the end, but let’s start with 9 in no particular order..... 1) 3 MINUTE BOARDGAMES

One of the first board games ‘er across the table (TM) and I bought together was a copy of Gloom from a little games and comic shop halfway round the world in Hamilton NZ, Mark 1 Comics. As we were achingly close to moving to NZ a few years ago, we’ve kept up with many aspects of what might have been our life over there, so it was a delight to discover Jarrod (and now Stephanie) on YouTube, a friendly and familiar accent reviewing board games. But it’s not just the NZ vibe that I love, Jarrod does a great job of cutting thru the hyperbole and bloat often associated with trying to keep YouTube vids ‘long for the algorithm’ (ugh) and just gives very pragmatic reasons for a game either joining or leaving his collection. He has a great approach, and it’s nice to see him finally on camera instead of the disembodied voice. Great reviewer, and Stephanie is utterly hilarious. 2) THE BROTHERS MURPH

Mike & Nick are two of the most engaging brothers on YouTube let alone just in the boardgaming community. Their series on thrift shop finds has dredged up some hilarious and often tragic specimens from the grand days of Palitoy, MB and Parker Games. They are also masters at ‘speed reviewing’ often piling reviews of 50 or 60 games into the same number of minutes. I think I favour the ‘don’t outstay your welcome’ approach to YouTube in general, and the Brothers Murph are at great ease with this philosophy and yet they take on simple party games thru to the heaviest euros with the same distillation equipment, and yet their reviews are never trivial or throw away. We had the chance to chat to Nick at Airecon this year and he was a lovely guy, slightly blown away by the fact that people liked his channel. He’s also an awesome artist too.

3) ACTUALOL

There are many reviewers on the web who have cost me a fair amount of money, the worst being Zee Garcia, however, a close second is Jon Purkiss aka Actualol. Jon has a terrifying gift for finding games, and especially ridiculously affordable games, that I buy on spec and then end up absolutely loving. Jon has a light and breezy style which is instantly engaging - I also really want his comfy chair (surely in exchange for a nice review on here Jon???). His videos are tidy and concise and yet still convey a deep enthusiasm and joy for games. His reviews very clearly portray what the setting of the game is and what you’ll be doing, without getting embroilled in the rules. He always has great footage of the game on the table (please reviewers - look at the ratio of your face to the game you’re talking about - less than 10% game and i’m walkin’) and often favours the less pricey end of the market which suits me fine. Brilliant games I love thanks to Jon include: Second Chance, Magic Maze and Ninja Academy

4) OUR FAMILY PLAYS GAMES

There’s not much to be said about Mik & Starla Fitch that cannot be gained from watching a mere 3-4 minutes of their channel. For sheer exuberance aimed squarely at a love for bringing families together via our glorious hobby, you cannot top these guys. If you are ever - EVER - feeling slightly lacklustre about gaming or losing your mojo for whatever reason - heck if you are just feeling slightly down, treat yourself to 10 minutes in the company of these two excellent human beings. Their reviews and playthru’s have all the humanity you need in a game and after five minutes you are thinking “Is the US too far to go just for a gaming evening?” We’d both utterly love to sit across the table from these lovely people and just play, and I can’t say that about every reviewer, I’ll be honest. Their reviews are often centred around unloved classics (watch their vid dedicated to why they love Catan as an example - you’ll be clicking Buy Now before your know it) and also some great quirky unknowns that I’m trying to hunt down even now. They’ve just had a brilliant couple of boosts from both a spot of Good Morning America recently, and becoming reviewers for the mighty Dice Tower. I’m immensely grateful for a tweet by Rodney Smith for pointing me in their direction, my social media is a much brighter place with the Fitch family in it.

5) RAHDO RUNS THROUGH

“Heeeeey Everybody”. One of the first board game reviewers I ever caught on YouTube was the inimitable Richard Ham aka Rahdo. And I’m so glad I did. I would genuinely never sit down and try and learn a game from one of Rahdo’s playthrus, they are what I imagine being in a wind tunnel full of 50 tonnes of feathers is like. BUT and this is crucial - if I want an idea of what a game is going to feel like to play, there is no finer deliverer of the remote game experience than Mr Richard Ham. His unique ability to explain how a game is going to work, turn by turn; the decisions you will make; the things you’ll have to consider; the short and long term goals; are all brilliantly covered in one of Rahdo’s videos. His ability to make different choices for his ‘ghost partner’ Jen (who does exist in real life, we have bought jewelry off her, she’s lovely) also adds a real dynamism to the games, showcasing the flexibility in a design for different play strategies. Rahdo tends towards 2 player games and usually at the heavier end of the scale, but if there’s a game you are thinking of buying, check Mr Ham out first!

6) WATCH IT PLAYED

It’s often been said that Canadians are some of the politest folk on the planet, but when it comes to ranking Canadians, well, I’m sure they’d be too humble to rank each other so I’ll have to. Rodney Smith is the loveliest man in the world. There, end of article. But it’s true. We’ve been watching Rodney since we first got confused about the rules for Mice & Mystics (which we still got wrong but that wasn’t Rodney’s fault) and his ever chirpy, ever positive approach to his rules rundowns is utterly remarkable and frankly, enviable. And it’s his attention to detail and clarity for explaining rules that have rightly made Rodney one of the most important resources in the gaming hobby. If you have ever struggled over a rulebook and haven’t raced to Watch It Played, I will guarantee you will have spent far longer on that rulebook and lost way more hair than you ever needed to. We had the great honour of playing Rajas of the Ganges with Rodney at Airecon in 2019, and I mugged up on the rules sooo much. Regular imbibers of this rag will know my sloth for reading rulebooks is legendary but fortunately ‘er across the table (TM) loves them. But, for the 3 days running up to our trip to Harrogate, I did nothing but read that rulebook - this was THE Rodney Smith, you can’t get a rule wrong with Rodney. But of course, nerves kicked in and I could barely remember the rules of Snap, but the nicest man in the world could not have been nicer. Really, quantum mechanics has proved it. He was just the same man off the computer telly. Funny, engaging, warm and happy to chat as well as play (which I was also really nervous about doing!), if you don’t watch Rodney, are you really internetting?

7) TABLETOP MINIONS

“Pachow” From boardgames to wargames. As well as my slight addiction to cardboard, my other opiate overlord is 28mm plastic miniatures. Specifically those involved in tabletop skirmish games like Malifaux, 7TV, Fallout Wasteland Warfare, GuildBall and a smattering of others. Though recently more focused on the frankly insane amount of content being released by Games Workshop, Tabletop Minions is presented by the splendid Uncle Atom. (In fact, I identify his content so much as Uncle Atom’s stuff that I honestly had to double check the name of the channel for this article!). My plastic habit uncle (sounds so wrong, but so true) has possibly the gentlest delivery of anyone on the internet. It’s not so much content, as therapy. I know the net is awash with AMSR channels at the mo, but if you don’t want to listen to some overmonetized southern californian with some bubble wrap and a large capsule condenser mic, just hop over to TTM and listen to the Uncle for 5 minutes. He’s like a soothing bubble bath of content about painting figures, philosophy of the hobby, general art & design principles, and great life advice. He also wears a fez.

8) GIRL PAINTING

“Hello Tchoobies!” I painted my first 28mm figure when i was about 12ish - it was, ironically, a space marine of some sort - the old clunky Ral Partha ones. It looked terrible, but each model got a bit better till I stopped for some reason a few years later. When I got into Malifaux a few years ago (ie decades, several of them, later), I knew I was going to have to get back into painting; heaps of grey plastic does not a skirmish game make. (Little did I know I would have to revisit my microscopy days either when assembling damn Bayou Gremlins!) Two channels were recommended to me, the Esoteric Order of Gamers (more later) and Girl Painting. EOG put me on the path to believing I could paint again, but Alexandra at Girl Painting actually made me believe I could learn to do it well. GP’s approach to painting figures, terrain and vehicles is based on solid art theory. Her explanation of colour relationships and the colour wheel is something I can quote to this day. All of the techniques that I lean on so heavily in day to day painting both for table and display I learnt from Girl Painting. Correct use of washes, wet blending, non-metallic metals, shading, drybrushing, highlighting, model reading, all of it from studying intently, often with a brush actually in my hand while watching the channel. I cannot recommend GP enough if you want to put paint to plastic. Whatever your ability, you will learn something from this hidden gem of a channel.

9) ESOTERIC ORDER OF GAMERS

Another dang fine antipodean and another slightly unusual channel. I have a terrible, terrible memory when it comes to rules. In our early days, we also had a a lot of games with seemingly very over-bloated rulebooks - FFG games basically. I suddenly realised what I wanted was to lift the lid of a box and find in the lid, a summary of the important stuff i needed to remember about the game. Apparently I was not the only one. In 2013 a chap known as Universal Head started publishing an amazing series of rules summaries which condensed down some of the bloatiest rulesbooks down to often one or 2 pages of A4. It was a (pardon the pun) gamechanger for me. I can’t count the number of games in our collection that have a friendly sheet of A4 now as the first thing you see when you open the box. They are brilliant. And he’s still doing it to this day. I would argue that the more useful leg to his activities is the website rather than YouTube channel, but his channel does have the aforementioned brilliant figure painting tutorials, unboxing videos and some crafting stuff. The website is definitely the place for the rules summaries and also a fantastic resource for build-it-yourself foamcore box inserts. Though Folded Space have now made box inserts pretty affordable, there’s still no feeling like the satisfaction of building your own, and I would argue that some of EoG’s designs actually make more sense than some of the Folded Space ones anyway. AND THE OTHER ONES (Who probably don’t really need the exposure, but hey, only 11 people probably read this so......) Why aren’t these on the list above? Just because I wanted to highlight some of the more marginal channels above or more specialist rather than the pure reviewers. SHUT UP & SIT DOWN Possibly my favourite channel on YouTube, whose name sounds more like a menacing Yorkshire greeting than a boardgame channel. SU&SD seem to be a real Marmite issue on the board game communities. And I genuinely don’t understand it. Yes, their reviews are often really funny but honestly, if that’s all you take away then you are missing some amazingly detailed and thought provoking work. Quinns and crew’s reviews are some of the most measured and balanced reviews in the gameyverse. Their reasoning for the conclusions they come to are incredibly well thought through and often very surprising based on the tone of the rest of the review. They have steered me to some games I would never have looked twice at and steered me away from some very shiny games that I might have blown a lot of money on otherwise. Flagposting great alternatives is also a signature of their reviews, and that again has often lead me to some fantastic games. We don’t always agree (their recent review of 10 Oink Games was savage imho) but we always disagree for the right reasons. Again, I would argue their website is actually a better overall resource, especially their podcasts which are superb, but all their content is fantastic.

in a highly similar vein I would add NO PUN INCLUDED. Efka & Elaine produce some of the most thoughtful and intelligent boardgame review content today, and often for some of the deepest and most complex games. The joy of boardgaming is that it is highly subjective and there are lots of times when NPI like/dislike a game that I do/don’t, but they are engaging and warm enough as presenters to hit you with a gentle subtext that says “It’s ok - I know we like this game, we get that you don’t, it doesn’t make any of us bad people, just people y’know, have a sandwich with us” Efka criticising a game reminds me of when Dennis Healey once described an argument with Geoffrey Howe as being ‘savaged by a dead sheep’, though not in the cynical manner of the original. The criticism is loaded with that crucial dose of ‘hear me out’ that is sadly lacking in 90% of all other reviewers out there. Efka & Elaine are no GoggleBox reviewers, they are the real deal - they genuinely understand how games work and why. The sheer moral turmoil that Efka expressed over the cultural issues in Rising Sun was some of the most thoughtful YouTube content I have ever seen. I just wanted to do a little shout out to Johannes & Sunniva at BOARD GAMING RAMBLINGS - I don’t have as much to say as they are relatively new on my radar, but I have really enjoyed their content so far and find them to be like one of those adorable gaming couples that you might see every once in a while at your gaming group and have a blast with, and then not see for months and go “Awh - I really miss Johannes & Sunniva - where’d they go?” that feeling, you know the one. Adorable, with a hint of the esoteric. Also, a quick but important mention to the other titan of boardgame rules explanation that is Paul Grogan of GAMING RULES!. Like Rodney Smith, Paul is meticulous about rules explanation and is really clear and simple to follow, even for very heavy games, which Paul tends to do more of than Rodney, which is probably why I end up watching Paul slightly less, but certainly not for any less quality. Paul has such a reputation in the industry that he now works closely with many designers and publishers to help craft the best rulebooks around as a consultant. So that’s it - congrats for making it through folks. Didn’t think it was going to run this long, but turns out.... I quite like a lot of the YouTubers I watch - who knew? Until next time... happy gaming y’all.

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charissekenion · 4 years ago

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What systemic racism in the British beauty industry looks like

Remember when Black Lives Matter content filled up the feeds of your preferred social platform? While the message still burdens many within the black community — as well as some allies — on a daily basis, for many it is business as usual; even one of my regular online beauty go-to’s has that in their homepage banner. I’m sure it’s more about things being back to ‘some kind’ of normal post-Covid, but who knows? To me, it seems like everyone is tired and weary of the triggering message of BLM and I believe that’s a sign that, if systems are not changed, things are likely to return to what they used to be, the word diversitybecoming one of those words people say out loud while using air quotes. I’ve already written about my own personal experience as a mixed/black woman in the beauty world, but I wanted to try and tackle the systems within the beauty industry. If I’ve missed anything, let me know!

Brands/Agencies Throughout the early days of BLM, brands and agencies around the globe paid close attention to where their ads were appearing. It wasn’t a moral stance however; brands had learned that ads placed near George Floyd or protest-related content, monetized at 57%* lower than other news content. The investment simply wasn’t worth it and words/phrases such as Black Lives Matter, George Floyd, Minneapolis and Black people were put on industry blocklists. While blocklists surely began as a way for the industry to ensure it wasn’t placing insensitive ads, in 2020 brands are using them purely because of the bottom line; revenue.

For me, the brands that have stood out during BLM are the ones that are more thoughtful in how they can help, long-term. Praise was given to Emily Weiss of Glossier for starting a grant for black-owned beauty businesses. Another stand-out show of support came from Caroline Hirons, a brand in her own right.

Hirons is known as the queen of skincare amongst the UK press — and she knows that is a very white press. She took a few days to get her ‘ducks in a row’, early on when BLM was being heavily supported, ensuring her donations were able to have Gift Aid applied (more of the cash actually going to the organisation), before announcing that she would be giving 100 percent of the 2020 proceeds from her best-selling Double Cleanse with Pixi to Black Lives Matter. Pixi duly matched her donation.

But for every positive there were several embarrassing examples of how notto do it. I don’t have the time or energy to give a comprehensive list of just how many brands got it so wrong during the days that followed #blackouttuesday for instance.

I’m not about forcing anyone to do anything, because if you don’t care, why would I want your help? For me the blame lays with brands who have the means to send out the right messages on the daily via social and in the media. It wasn’t just about calling out RMS Beauty on their Instagram for hiring such an insensitive social media manager. It was more about checking out the feeds of Maybelline, Chanel Beauty, etc, etc, and seeing if they had ever shown diversity in their campaigns. The results were lacklustre to say the least, but, if there was one truly classic example of what not to do, the medal would go to Marcia Kilgore (founder of Beauty Pie, Fit Flop, Bliss). I’ve been a diehard fan of Kilgore and her work ethic for years and I’ve lost count of how many interviews I’ve listened to of Kilgore sharing her business journey.

But throughout BLM I’ve seen some shockers coming from (seemingly) Kilgore’s own hand. I’ve been sent screenshots of comments on Instagram (later deleted) including one that shows Kilgore using the shrugs emoji. One of Beauty Pie’s diehard (white) fans just didn’t get why Beauty Pie was receiving negative feedback after not standing up soon enough or strongly enough for BLM. Kilgore replied to her fan with the shrug — she might as well have said: ‘gee, we just can’t seem to please these people.’

The Influencer Whether you love influencer culture or not, it’s clear that, for now, it’s here to stay. Mostly dominated by (white) women, with some being worth over £4million here in the UK, whatever their chosen area of specialisation, there seems to be a very cookie-cutter approach as to what and who’s adored and accepted. Look at wellness, look at fashion, and of course, beauty, and you’ll find that the popular accounts are usually owned by very blonde, very slim women. Life is just one long Instagram Story compiled of working out in Lululemon, wearing makeup from an expensive brand that’s never looked past 10 shades, sipping an iced green tea and getting your wedding paid for by your clever agency rep who’s reached out to countless companies that are guaranteed to find you so palatable and on-brand.

Now, I am not coming for these women; these women can exist alongside the women that I choose to follow — the women that can and do in fact influence me and how I purchase, whether they get paid or not. And there’s the rub. Brands have been making tons of excess profits from women of colour who just love that brand — essentially unpaid micro influencers.

As a self-confessed beauty addict, I know the allure of the ‘next big thing’. I know how it is when you feel, or felt, that that brand actually understood you. When that new shiny purchase arrives from the likes of Glossier, you’re like, ‘hey friend’, and off you go, sharing your unboxing for your fellow beauty enthusiasts to swoon over in the comments.

Like I said, many true beauty influencers are micro influencers, doing their thing purely for the love, and not a pay check, but that’s in sharp contrast to those who are actually paid to do so. These paid influencers put in the work, styling their stories to appeal to their audience and also the audience of the brand that’s paying them.

One such influencer, someone I’ve been following a while as I enjoyed her fresh aesthetic, is also a PR. To be fair to her, I’d become so used to seeing her bounce across fields of tulips and daisies, that I wasn’t expecting anything from her when it came to ‘real life’. However, I did happen to see her Instagram Stories late one night, where she ‘appeared’ to be crying about BLM. I say appeared because honestly, I’ve seen better performances at my nephew’s nativity play. I even recorded the crying just to check I wasn’t being too dismissive.

The next day I saw that she’d finally posted an image she’d found elsewhere (i.e. not spent time creating) and given information on how to donate and research. It all seemed very rushed and frankly, I imagine that zero attention was given to the words. I wondered if she’d been pressured to post, and apparently she had been, after being tagged in a post that prompted people to call out influencers and brands who weren’t stepping up.

She dutifully posted a black square when it was ‘expected’ of her on #blackouttuesday — which she has since deleted.

On top of that, behind the scenes she was contacting various bloggers — I can’t confirm race ratios. She sent DMs that did not address the individual, did not ask the person how they were doing at this truly tiring and stressful time. Instead she asked if they were supporting black-owned brands (she asked this of a mixed-race woman who identified as black and had been posting tons of information on her Stories…) Clueless, lazy — or worse?

She mentions in the DM that one of her clients is a black-owned business and asks if the blogger might be interested in talking about it. The following day I kept wondering, ‘okay, if you’re so supportive, why not post about this black-owned brand on your own feed?’ Or, how about you offer your services to black-owned businesses at a reduced rate? Not because you should, but because, after all, you are performing as if you care.

**Dominique, a black, London-based PR shared her thoughts on how her frequent social media support of a beauty brand (self-created and not paid for, purely because she wanted to), soon started to feel as if she was being treated as a token when she was shown as the only black face in the company’s newsletter. She also tells me of a black influencer in the UK who had been promised payment for several pieces of promo work and yet had gone unpaid and ignored. It wasn’t until her loyal followers bombarded the brand’s social media platforms that the brand paid her, in full, with no argument, or apology.

“It’s so intrinsic, and so embedded,” says Dominique. “Whether it’s content creation or Instagram — which is the first port of call for every business — it’s also the tech, it’s the algorithms used. It’s the influencers, it’s the appropriation, it’s the fact that black influencers aren’t on PR lists, and aren’t being paid the same rates.”

Dominique also talks of the pressure of ‘black guilt’ that black influencers and creators can feel: “You kind of hope and root for the brands that you spend your money on, that you will see a change. And then also, you kind of assimilate in your feed to try and see if that’s gonna help you build a following. I’ve done it. Black people have learned to compartmentalise to survive and it comes down to assimilating and trying not to broadcast your blackness.”

The PR I think, in some ways, the power of the beauty industry PRs often goes unnoticed. These are people who are in the business of carving out a niche for a brand, making it the ‘next big thing’; they advise clients on everything, from tone of voice to the right faces to use in an ad campaign to which influencers to send product to, and which influencers to offer lucrative ambassadorships to.

As most UK PR firms are owned by white men and women, it’s easy to see why inclusivity might not even enter their heads. Why would it? Let’s not forget, for decades the ideal beauty has been that of a very Eurocentric look. PR firms, alongside the rest of the industry, play their part in affirming this beauty standard — it isn’t their job to actually change it. But with more and more voices calling for change, and in the era of cancel culture, PRs are likely to be forced into taking a more active role.

For example, the labeling of BLM being a political rather than human issue by the head of CrossFit was clearly a PR nightmare of huge proportions, and no-one in the multi-billion dollar beauty industry wants that to happen to them. As a recent article on the Business of Fashion stated; too often public relations execs go along with what their client wants, and if ever they do try to steer the client in another direction they are often left unsupported or removed from the account completely.

The Magazines As someone who’s been a hair and beauty editor and writer for 15 years, I’ve seen a lot of trends come and go. But one trend that remains the same is that of the ‘spot the black journo in the room’. While things may be slightly more progressive in the US, here in the UK I can say that I have never seen more than three black or non-white journalists at a press event at the same time. And don’t get me started on the staff within the publications themselves.

I remember when former British Vogue editor-in-chief Alexandra Shulman shared an image of her team in celebration of her last issue in 2017 — with not one black or brown face. I had long stopped my subscription to British Vogue, but when her replacement, Edward Enninful arrived, the man who had inspired me for years during his time at i-D magazine, I bought each issue with renewed excitement; oh how things would change!

But Enninful is one black man. And when Enninful himself is racially profiled while entering the doors of Conde Nast, you know that the problem goes way deeper. Add to that the fact that Vogue is still going to have to bow to its advertisers — the brands that keep it in print. It’s not us with our £2 ‘special price’ purchases that are keeping Vogue and others like it alive.

Elsewhere on Instagram, former Glamour editor Jo Elvin was bemoaning the fact that it wasn’t always the editor’s fault that there were no black models on the cover. Elvin said that black models often declined being on the cover (am guessing maybe it was because it was a pretty crap magazine back then?) because they ‘thought it would hurt their chances of getting covers with the high-end mags’.

And what is wrong with that? It’s far tougher for a black woman to get a Vogue cover, so if that’s that model’s goal, what’s it to Elvin and her crew? Perhaps they could seek out an unknown, rather than relying on the top three black faces over and over? Thankfully, Elvin was prompted to elaborate on her flippant comments, by none other than the aforementioned Caroline Hirons. Hirons ended by telling Elvin that the numbers don’t add up, and that bias is ‘systemic in Conde.’

I remember once going for a meeting with an online brand I avidly read. Naturally I was excited and flattered to be told: ‘you look so [insert brand name here]!’ as if I had just earned a special badge. Aside from the flattery, it really meant a lot to me and I was genuinely excited at the opportunity to write and shoot for them. I left the building buzzing, but over the coming weeks, my numerous pitches seemed to fall on deaf ears. ‘Hmm, she’s probably really, really, busy,’ I told myself.

Weeks later I noticed a new name on their writer roster and wondered if the fact that she was also mixed race was something to do with it; perhaps two was one too many? I think this is something we see and fear in many industries, but especially within fashion and beauty. While a non-black editor might enjoy being seen as the progressive one, he or she might also be nervous of ‘opening the gates’ and only employing non-white people! I’ve heard this from several black and brown people in the industry also. Once you get that role, you want to keep it both for career and financial reasons.

It’s clear that, across the board, work needs to be done, and we also need the work that is supposedly being done, to continue. It makes me nervous to see brands jumping on the Diversity Officer job role, while only offering six-month contracts. Does this mean that they hope BLM will just go away and people will just stop expecting their voices to be heard and their rights acknowledged? Are we all just so nostalgic over what normal used to be that we’d rather enter another year with blinders on?

It’s okay to admit that you’re completely unprepared for this fight. If you’ve never had to care about this fight, I get that. But whether you chose to use #blackouttuesday to gain some new fans, or you actually wanted to begin making lasting change, it’s clear, it’s going to take a lot more than a black square followed by vague epithets. Show the work; talk to your audience. Literally no-one can claim to be perfect right now, but if you want to build an anti-racist brand, take the steps, because we are all watching.

*Statistic taken from this NPR article: https://www.npr.org/2020/06/27/884213471/why-advertisers-wont-run-ads-on-black-lives-matter-content?t=1597134345822

** Name has been changed

Image: Photo by Hazel Olayres on Unsplash

This article also appears on Medium

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jessicakehoe · 5 years ago

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How A Year of Shopping Abstinence Gave One Compulsive Consumer Clarity

Before online shopping, I never thought I had an addictive personality. I feel indifferent to recreational drugs, drink wine primarily to learn about grapes and am far too risk-averse to gamble. Yet show me a seasonal sale and I’ll show you a person who is in too deep to see it: a frenzy of tabs opened, eyes blurry from scrolling, a pallid face illuminated by a computer screen. Saying no to vices, all things considered, was easy. Saying no to a better dressed, more impressive, idealistic vision of myself? Impossible.

Five years ago, I went into debt because of this obsessive behaviour, having filled my life with raw-silk dresses from L.A. and architectural coats from Denmark in an effort to disguise a lukewarm self-image. I lied to those around me about it, concealing shopping bags from my partner and waiting until he was out of the house to remove the tags. I knew I had a problem, and over the years, I chipped away at it, denying myself a purse here, returning a necklace there. Slowly, my bank account recovered and my fixations subsided.

But the impulse stayed—simmering beneath the skin, always threatening to come to a full boil. I wanted to study it and get to know the anxieties that fuelled it, but to gain such a perspective required distance. So when I made the resolution to stop shopping for a year, it wasn’t as a monastic last resort but a deliberate decision to take a step back and condition myself into being a more mindful consumer. It wasn’t about taking away my choices but about making one.

Not everything triggered my compulsive instinct for acquisition, so I kept the ban limited to the things that did: clothing, jewellery and shoes.

Not everything triggered my compulsive instinct for acquisition, so I kept the ban limited to the things that did: clothing, jewellery and shoes. The benefits, I reasoned with myself, were manifold. By not mindlessly browsing the internet for things to fill my closet, I would save a lot of time. By not purchasing them, I would save money. And by not creating more demand for the fashion industry, I would save the planet. (Admittedly a stretch. But I would be, at the very least, less complicit in the environmental impact of clothing production.) The most salient argument of them all: By learning to take the impulsive emotion out of shopping, I would eventually save my mental health.

I started the ban on a Thanksgiving weekend. “Brave,” said a friend with whom I’d shared the news so as to be held accountable. “You’re going to get so many emails.” She was right. They came like a deluge, each offering a sale more enticing than the last. Deleting them unread would have been easier, but I didn’t want to spend a year playing ostrich, so I decided to confront my inbox. Like a one-woman study on the efficacy of exposure therapy, I opened the emails one by one. To my surprise—and to my credit—the force of sheer willpower triumphed. I survived Black Friday. Then came Cyber Monday. Then Boxing Day. On my 30th birthday, I bought nothing to “treat myself”—a historical first.

On occasion, I would feel the familiar restlessness re-emerge, the squirrelly desire to get my hands on something new. It would be triggered by an Instagram photo, say, of a woman draped in luxurious fabrics captured as she walks past the camera. There would be movement in the photo and amazing light. Maybe she’s in Montmartre… or SoHo. Wherever she is, it’s the perfect portrait of elegance and grace, and if I were to acquire the cashmere sweater in the photo, I, too, could have it all. Or… I could keep scrolling.

What I really wanted was rarely the item itself but the acquisition of it: a shiny new object to fill a void.

Refraining from acting on these feelings, however challenging at the time, eventually gave me the mental clarity to observe them. What I really wanted was rarely the item itself but the acquisition of it: a shiny new object to fill a void. The void came in many forms: insecurity, anxiety, depression, impending burnout. Like an itchy throat heralds the arrival of a cold, my compulsion to shop always revealed itself to be symptomatic of a deeper discontent.

Thankfully, dopamine comes in other forms, too: taking a long, unhurried walk; learning to make a complicated dessert; calling someone just to hear their voice. It’s the joy of novelty without acquisition—therapy without the retail. When I’m reading books, I’m not buying books. By that, I mean the more I spend my time living deliberately, the less I get caught up in the need to embellish my life with stuff.

They say creativity thrives under constraints, which proved true throughout the ban. I was forced to confront the things I owned and find new contexts for them. I learned to create the spark of novelty by putting two old items together for the first time. I learned to see their usedness not as a strike against them but as a testament to their quality. Most importantly, I learned that the ability to abstain from shopping for a year isn’t a lesson in deprivation but one in abundance—the privilege of having what you need and wanting what you already have.

This is not to say that I will never shop again but that I now question my instincts when I do: Am I using this purchase to distract myself from something else happening in my life? Am I trying to signal value or success or dress myself up as someone I am not? Like the choice between different lenses at the optometrist’s, these questions help provide clarity as to what motivations are truly at work. And some questions are reserved for the item, too: Is it comfortable? Is it durable? Is it something I will honour by wearing it frequently and with enthusiasm?

A year later, I have emerged on the other side of the ban less impulsive and more informed.

A year later, I have emerged on the other side of the ban less impulsive and more informed. And the way I engage with fashion has also changed. The fast-fashion retailers that used to flood my algorithm have largely been replaced by local consignment shops, vintage stores and ethical fashion resale communities.

Having abstained for this long, I don’t feel right about reverting back to buying cheap, disposable clothes—or about simply replacing them with more ethical counterparts. After all, the most sustainable approach to the way we dress is not to shop sustainable brands but to refrain from supporting the resource-intensive world of textile manufacturing when we can. So, for now, I am prioritizing taking care of what has already been made: extending the longevity of the garments I own and giving other people’s clothes a second life. Maybe I’ll start another year-long ban. This time, no new clothes.

As Vivienne Westwood famously advised, “Buy less, choose well, make it last.” What doesn’t last is desire—the glimmer of getting what you want that dulls when the transaction is over. But knowing that you can live without something—a new outfit, a temporary boost of confidence, a more photogenic life—is what stays with you. That’s what sets you free.

The post How A Year of Shopping Abstinence Gave One Compulsive Consumer Clarity appeared first on FASHION Magazine.

How A Year of Shopping Abstinence Gave One Compulsive Consumer Clarity published first on https://borboletabags.tumblr.com/

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chockfullofsecrets · 6 years ago

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Class 1-A vs. Tickle Might: Part 2

Rating: Gen

Summary: ...title is really the best explanation I can offer

Word Count: ~3.2k

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who’s reading these and leaving me feedback, and to @gigglingknight for proofreading :) This brings us to nine students down and... quite a few still to go. Let me know what you think!

<<Part 1 :: Part 2.5>>

While it was difficult to track a villain through a crowded city, there was usually some kind of trail to follow: explosions, destruction, screaming. Things became even easier when the villain was running to something –an exit, perhaps.

However, this exercise required All Might to track down twenty teenagers that were trying their absolute hardest to hide and wait him out. He was going to need a little more than just his observational skills.

A little more, it turned out, was an app on his phone attached to the training ground’s security cameras – a simple map that showed a red dot in every location where detection algorithms noticed a humanoid form. Cheating, perhaps, but he and Aizawa had agreed that it might be necessary.

He fished the device out of a pocket on his skintight suit, squinting at the tiny screen. Several dots in his vicinity, and – ah, five or six of them clustered together in the same building. Definitely a good place to start the next phase of his attack.

The mockup of an office building was windowless, pale concrete glittering in the daylight. Starting on the first floor and working his way up was the obvious plan; anyone on the higher floors would be trapped unless they could sneak past him.

He momentarily considered entering through the front door, then remembered that he was playing a villain and knocked his way through a wall instead. “I AM HERE, READY TO CONQUER MY OPPONENTS!”

The room was empty save young Ojiro, who backpedaled frantically as one of All Might’s hands came perilously close to grabbing him. The boy skidded to a stop in the opposite corner, feet planting firmly as his arms came up in a defensive stance.

All Might crossed his arms and stared him down. “Young Ojiro! I’m glad I found you!” he boomed cheerily, then winced as the look in his student’s eyes teetered on the edge of outright panic. “That’s an excellent stance!” he complimented, a little softer.

Ojiro blinked at him. “Ah, thanks?”

The boy’s tail twitched as All Might drew closer. He held up a conciliatory hand. “Just taking a closer look. Feet turned to avoid any buffeting from the front, yet positioned to spring easily to either side, tail used as a counterweight… it appears very sturdy!”

He grinned as Ojiro flushed a little under his praise, still watching warily for a potential attack. “Uh… are we going to…”

“Fight? Only if you don’t wish to surrender first, young hero.”

Ojiro shifted his feet, smiling a little. “I’ll take my chances!”

All Might feinted forwards, expecting a sideways dodge. Instead, Ojiro dropped straight to the ground. Rolling forwards, he wrapped his tail around All Might’s leg and tugged. The hero tumbled backwards, but with his quick reflexes he clapped his legs together and trapped Ojiro’s tail between them.

Now they were both on the floor. Ojiro made a swift move towards the pressure point on All Might’s left knee, but his wrist was quickly caught in his opponent’s massive grip.

“Young hero, it’s very unwise to get tangled up with someone who has a longer reach,” he tutted. For example, I could do this!” He reached out, barely stretching his free arm, and scampered his fingers up Ojiro’s vulnerable ribcage.

The boy snickered, eyes widening. “W-wait… this is…”

“You see,” he continued, drilling his finger into the soft side within his reach and watching triumphantly as Ojiro was overtaken by giggles, “I have some knowledge of pressure points too.”

Ojiro squirmed like an eel as he tried frantically to separate himself from All Might, his free hand slapping at the ground. The room was filled with his laughter, rebounding off the concrete walls, but – there. Another giggle, much higher pitched.

All Might raised his head and looked around. Nobody. “I take it we have a certain invisible student with us?”

The higher-pitched giggling stopped. Ojiro, whose side was still being mercilessly tickled, choked out, “Tooru! Yohohou were s-supposed to attack stehehealthily!”

“Sorry, sorry, the two of you just look funny! I’m helping!”

A pair of invisible hands started to pry All Might’s right hand off Ojiro’s wrist finger by finger. “The other hand, Tooru!” Ojiro pleaded, still trying to worm away from the invading digits of his left.

“I need both hands for this,” she chirped. “C’mon, you can hold out for a bit longer. A little laughing never hurt anyone!”

“It tihihickles!”

“Okay, okay!” Something smacked against All Might’s other hand – Hagakure’s foot, most likely. “Don’t be mean, sensei! Shoo!”

He laughed, pausing his attack to wrap his hand around her ankle. “A noble sentiment, young hero, but you’ve put yourself in danger now!”

“No!” It was chaos for a few seconds – Hagakure trying to pry her leg free, Ojiro giving a mighty tug with his captured tail. He wouldn’t be able to contain both of them this way.

Hagakure was the more valuable target; she didn’t show up on any of the cameras and would be much harder to find if he let her go now. He released Ojiro and rolled to his knees, casting a hand in front of him to find the girl’s waist and pull her down. Ojiro, gasping, pulled his tail free and climbed to his feet, stumbling for the exit. “Tooru, let’s run!”

“Ojiro, help!” Hagakure yelped, facedown on the floor. “He got me!”

The boy wavered for a moment, still in range for an attack, then turned back to the door. “I’ll get help from the others upstairs; just hold on!”

His indecision would cost him. All Might managed to pin Hagakure with a knee pressed gently into the small of her back, and, both hands free, grabbed Ojiro’s tail and sent him sprawling with a decisive pull. “Hah! Two heroes captured!”

“And no hands to tickle them with, villain,” Ojiro growled, bending double and latching onto All Might’s free arm. “Gotcha!”

“I’m willing to work with what I have!” proclaimed All Might, turning to Hagakure and dragging Ojiro with him.

“Wait, wait! Not that!” Hagakure squeaked. Evidently she had her head turned to watch the both of them, and as the tuft of Ojiro’s tail drew closer to her she knew what was coming.

Squealing, loud and unrestrained, filled the room as All Might lightly dusted the end of Ojiro’s tail over Hagakure’s unprotected back and sides. “Nohoho! Go away, go away!”

“Sorry,” Ojiro called, laughing despite himself. “Didn’t you say a little laughing was okay?”

“Shut uhuhup! Why is your tahail so soft!”

At that affront, Ojiro reached out to tweak her side. “Don’t be mean!”

“Ahahaha! Not both of you! I surrender!” she squawked. All Might lifted his knee to let her get away, but they could both still hear her heaving for breath. “Ha… man, this exercise is different than I thought.”

“A valiant effort nonetheless, young Hagakure!” he praised. “Your stealth makes it nearly impossible to attack when you’re not forced to engage with your opponent.”

Footsteps crossed the room, and Hagakure’s shoes and gloves appeared from behind a corner. “Thank you, sensei!” She started to put them on. “That was kind of fun! I didn’t know Ojiro’s tail could tickle that bad!”

“Neither did I, my girl! A lucky occurrence on my part.” He turned suddenly to the owner of said tail, still clinging to his arm. “Now, what shall I do with you?”

Ojiro was already grinning nervously as his friend skipped over. “Try his tail, All Might-sensei! Kaminari messes with it in class sometimes, and he always freaks out!”

“Tooru, come on!” Ojiro protested.

“You didn’t save me!” she retorted, gloves on hips. “Actually, you were helping him!”

“Hah, a rivalry!” All Might grinned. “My girl, would you care to demonstrate?”

Hagakure took hold of a struggling Ojiro’s tail, gloved fingers scratching lightly into the tuft of hair at the end. “You’d expect that it would feel good, like when you get your head scratched, but I think it just tickles him a lot!”

“And what do you think, young Ojiro?”

Ojiro didn’t answer, but his collapse into helpless cackling proved her theory correct. She let her teacher take over, helpfully rubbing her friend’s shivering back as he laughed himself silly. By the time he called for mercy, there were tears welling up in the corners of his eyes.

They helped him sit up. “You’re both… so mean…” he panted.

“Don’t you feel less stressed now that you don’t have to worry about All Might-sensei destroying you in combat, though?” Hagakure asked.

“Heh, I guess so.” Ojiro ran his sleeve across his face. “Thanks for not killing us!”

All Might chuckled. “You’re welcome, my boy. Go to the exit, you two, and enjoy your summer break!”

They left through the hole in the wall; he headed for the stairwell, sure that some of his students were still in the building.

He wasn’t expecting to find four of them right there in the hallway.

Sero, Aoyama, Shoji, and Tokoyami were all rooted to the ground in the dimly lit corridor, apparently halfway though a rushed evacuation. They stared up at him like he’d just melted from the shadows, and in return he graced them with a brightly villainous smile. “Ah, more young heroes. And you’ve even lined yourselves up for me!”

“Merde,” Aoyama hissed, an octave above his already high voice, and that broke the spell.

“Run!” Sero shouted, shoving them all to the door, and the five of them spilled out into the daylight on each other’s heels.

The four boys were still huddled together, backing away from his imposing figure. Sero, in front, looked wildly around. “Aoyama, get out of here! You and Dark Shadow can’t fight in the same space!” When the shiny-surfaced boy failed to move, he slung some tape around his waist and, with a grunt of effort, sent him sailing up to the nearest rooftop.

“Not so fast!” All Might sprang forward to grab the tape-slinging boy – one arm around his waist, the other moving to grab the tape before it could disconnect. Aoyama wailed in surprise as a sharp tug sent him tumbling back down into the fray.

He grinned at them both. “You’re right, young Sero! It’s a definite advantage for me to have Aoyama here. And you really should stop slinging your teammates into the air without any regard for your own safety.” He deftly bound Sero up with the still-dangling length of tape –“don’t get yourself tied in knots, my boy, I’ll be right back for you” – and carried Aoyama with him as he turned to face his two remaining opponents.

Shoji and Tokoyami were running, Dark Shadow unfurled behind them. Even with a wriggling Aoyama hoisted over his shoulder, it took him about five seconds to catch up to them. Dark Shadow squawked an alarm, and the two students spun around. Shoji leaned down, whispering something into his friend’s ear, and Tokoyami nodded sharply in response as he held a hand up. “Dark Shadow, shield us!”

The shadow folded in and around, encasing the two in a bubble of swirling black with two flashing red eyes. “A defensive move, huh?” All Might stopped a few feet in front of the enclosure, lowering Aoyama to the ground. “Young Aoyama, I think we both know what’s going to happen next.”

The boy was hugging himself over his armor, a desperate attempt at protection. “I won’t let you use my amazingly bright twinkling to get to Tokoyami!”

All Might rocked back on his heels, considering. “Well… you could surrender, if you don’t want to take that chance.”

“I don’t want to do that either!”

“In that case…” He wormed a finger into one of the gaps in Aoyama’s ostentatious torso armor, jerking back in surprise as even that slight brush against his belly produced a reluctant squeal and a bolt of blue energy from the boy’s navel laser. “My boy, I don’t think you’re in much of a position to bargain.” Seeing his student’s expression sour in disappointment, he leaned in and patted him gently on the head. “Besides, helping me out wouldn’t be something to regret. Don’t you think that those two could use some more, ah, enthusiasm?”

Aoyama beamed at that. He really was very bright; All Might almost felt the need to squint when confronted with his blinding white teeth. “Of course! Even a failure on my part will bring sparkles to the eyes of my classmates!”

“Exactly! Well, my boy, let’s see just how brightly you can twinkle!” Aoyama’s armor was loose enough to wriggle his fingers underneath, and the mere action of doing so was enough to send him into cascading squeals of laughter while creating his own little light show. “Hm… perhaps a little calibration…” He rolled his student over a little, aiming the random flashes of his laser roughly at Dark Shadow, who began to writhe under the sparkling assault.

The poor shadow disappeared into Tokoyami’s chest with an empty fizzle, and almost immediately Aoyama giggled out his surrender. “Mission… accomplished…” he wheezed into the ground. “Prepare for the sparkle of life to overtake you, Shoji and Tokoyami!”

With one last congratulatory pat to the boy’s head and a reminder to leave the training ground, All Might stood and turned to face his next victims, both of whom were backing slowly away from him. “Ah, you two have come back to the light! Who should I take on first!”

“You protected us admirably, Tokoyami,” Shoji said, stepping forward. All six of his arms were wrapped around himself. “If you run now, maybe Dark Shadow can still recover.”

“A noble effort indeed,” All Might agreed, wrapping a friendly arm around Shoji’s wide shoulders and pulling him aside. “Not even trying to mount a defense, huh? You seem very nervous.”

Even with his ever-present mask, it was easy to see Shoji’s jaw work as he decided what to say. “All Might-sensei, I – well, I have six arms.”

“And six armpits,” All Might said, nodding companionably. Shoji’s face was slowly reddening. “If I had six hands, I would definitely take advantage of that.”

“No one has six hands. Except me.”

“Exactly. Even I just have the two, so really there’s nothing to worry about! Just relax! You can surrender whenever it becomes too much.”

Shoji’s arms loosened a little from their death grip around his torso, and he took advantage of the opportunity to pull the uppermost pair above the boy’s head and pin them in one of his hands. A menacing wiggle of his fingers caused Shoji to freeze in place, strangled giggles already making their way out through his mask. “I – Ihih’m – pretty, uh, pretty ticklish, so I don’t think I’ll last very long.”

“That’s fine, my boy! Now, I know the mask will hide it, but I hope you’ll give me your brightest smile anyways!” He softly stroked the membrane between Shoji’s first and second pair of arms, inwardly cheering as the boy squeezed his eyes closed and dissolved into laughter.

“Ehehehe! I’m smiling, I’m smihihiling!”

“Excellent! But can you smile… bigger?”

A foray directly into the hollows separating Shoji’s arms proved that he could, as evidenced by a ticklish scream and several flailing pairs of arms. “AhahHASTOPSTOPPLEHEHEASE!”

Shoji used the sudden freedom of his hands to bury his face in four of them. All Might, trying not to laugh at his embarrassment, drew him into an engulfing hug. “It’s all right! Aizawa-sensei and I weren’t expecting anyone to be immune to my battle techniques, and you were very brave in defending your friend!” The boy nodded sheepishly into his chest, and he sent him on his way with one last squeeze.

Perhaps he’d handle young Sero next. He peered down the street, looking for the restrained boy, and noticed with some chagrin that only a pile of sticky material remained. Really, he should have expected him to be able to break free of his own tape. Regrettable, but surely he’d be able to find him later.

He turned just in time to be barraged by Dark Shadow, back to nearly full strength. “Ah, young Tokoyami! You’ve recovered!”

“I have,” the boy conceded, bowing his head. “Not in time to rescue Shoji, but that doesn’t mean Dark Shadow and I won’t try our best.”

“I would expect nothing less from you, my boy,” All Might declared, and was immediately forced into a wrestling match with Dark Shadow as the feathered entity tried to swallow his head whole.

The shadow was corporeal, to an extent, and after a brief struggle he managed to get a grip on the thing’s neck and force it back a bit. On a hunch, he buried his hands in what would have been neck fingers and wriggled them around a little.

Dark Shadow snapped at him unhelpfully. More telling was Tokoyami’s reaction – under the assault on his shadow, he flinched and let out a sound that was nearly a chirp, his hand twitching towards his neck.

“You two really are connected, I see. Tell me, can your Dark Shadow feel this?” He dug in a little more enthusiastically, and this time the disembodied head seemed to show a bit more of a reaction, shivering furiously in his grip.

“He can,” Tokoyami conceded through gritted teeth. “Although it – heh – it seems he’s passing most of it on to me.”

“Good bird,” he commented, and tickled it under its chin until, squawking in silent hilarity, it melted from his grasp and tucked itself neatly back into Tokoyami. Said student was shaking slightly on his feet, the occasional snicker trickling from his beak, but he managed to raise his head and look All Might firmly in the eye as he approached.

All Might poked him in the stomach, curious to see the reaction. When that produced another flinch, he moved onto carelessly scribbling over the boy’s belly and ribs, feeling the muscles strain as Tokoyami fought to maintain his composure while staying completely still. “H-how – the embodiment of darkness does not normally – giggle.”

“Your Dark Shadow? It does seem to have a mind of its own sometimes. Maybe it likes the tickling.” A particularly good squeeze to Tokoyami’s side had him folding in on himself, beaked head dipping sharply as if to hide the laugh that slipped out. “At any rate, you have more ticklish spots than it does, but maybe the two of you share one in particular.”

He gently tilted Tokoyami’s head back up and scratched under his chin, cooing to himself as the boy’s eyes fluttered closed and he made that chirping sound again. “Ah, is that what your laugh sounds like?” He tried the tickling again – his ribs, his belly, the silky feathers at the back of his neck. Tokoyami fared much worse this time, arms flying up to push at the attacking hands as he continued to chirp, the occasional recognizable laugh coming out as well. “There it is! Tickle tickle tickle – don’t be embarrassed, my boy, it sounds quite nice!”

Tokoyami was in a pile on the ground before he admitted defeat, leaning weakly into his teacher’s side as he giggled breathlessly. All Might rubbed his back, mentally calculating how much time had passed and wondering if he had time to walk his student to the exit.

It was then that the sensation came over him. The scuff of a foot against gravel, some sixth sense from decades of hero work, all of it assembled unconsciously in his brain to alert him.

Someone was watching them.

He looked up, wary, and there it was – a pair of mismatched eyes looking coolly back.

#bnha #my fic #class 1a vs tickle might #tickling #chocfic

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genius-with-a-j · 6 years ago

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Welcome to YouTube Incorporated

So I’m a big fan of @shamefulbirb and her Evil YouTube Inc. AU (if you haven’t seen anything of it, you should really check it out, she draws some amazing art and her AUs are beautiful) so I decided to write something about it. Essentially, this takes place in a universe where Google has taken over the world. This might be the first part of an ongoing story, but it could also be a standalone. I haven’t decided yet.

It's a beautiful world.

It's a technologically-advanced world, a world where no one need worry about crime, a world where everyone knows that they're protected by Those That Watch.

Across the globe, things reflect the wonderful state of things and the benevolence of Those Who Help. Perfect neighborhoods sport perfect houses, all the same except for their color. The houses follow a consistent pattern down every block, always the same no matter where you are. Blue-red-yellow-blue-green-red. It's a pattern that any good citizen is familiar with and knows means comfort and safety. Inside each of these perfect, colorful houses, is at least one resident of the world now known simply as Alphabet, an appropriate amount of Alphabet approved furniture, and Alphabet technology.

Those Who Observe are kind enough to make sure that all of its residents have access to state-of-the-art technology and because of their generosity, every household has what is known as a Google IRL: a lovely android that can answer any question that its owners may have, and that can assist with anything that they may need. Each Google IRL is also loosely in the image of a particular celebrity, known by all of his adoring fans as Merry Markimoo.

Merry Markimoo holds the status of a Chosen One, one of the highest honors that a citizen of Alphabet can achieve. As such, he gets to live outside of the colored neighborhoods and is allowed to reside in a special zone known as YouTube Village. There, he has a giant estate and access to anything he could want for filming. He produces content for YouTube on a daily basis and his videos reach an audience of billions. Many of Alphabet's residents dream of living such a lifestyle and make videos in hopes of someday reaching the heights of their YouTube idols. Many others are content just to watch and be entertained. Either way is supported by the compassionate ones who watch. They make sure that everyone has access to the devices needed to access YouTube, as well as all of the other excellently designed social networks and websites that Alphabet is kind enough to allow its residents to access. Though they are known to be highly monitored, and there is a general awareness that anything considered not suitable for the world at large is removed from the Internet in its entirety, it seems like a small price to pay for access to such wealths of information and content.

After all, it's a beautiful world. Sometimes speech has to be regulated in order for it to stay that way. The residents just aren't as knowledgeable as Those Who Observe them, and sometimes need guidance to keep the peace.This is fine.In fact, it's more than fine. It's natural. It's normal. No one questions it or tries to fight the system. Why would they? Alphabet is a good place. Google, Alphabet's wonderful technology corporation, is a force for good. Everybody knows that both Those Who watch and Google itself only want what's best for their residents.

So they consume content, the way they're supposed to. They spend hours on YouTube, watching everything that the Chosen Ones produce, happy for their entertainment. They wake up every day and log on, excited to see what their favorite creators have in store for them next.

And nobody stops to wonder what it's like to be one of those creators. They already know. It's lovely, full of riches and everything one could ever want. They even get beautiful collars to wear, complete with a shiny red YouTube Play Button. The ultimate status symbol that comes with getting a million subscribers, something that every small creator dreams of getting.

Everything is beautiful. Everything is perfect.

Everything is fine.

"Hey babe, can you come in here for a minute, please?"

The cry rang out through the large house that was courtesy of YouTube Village. There was an odd quality to it, it sounded strained somehow. Like the person crying out was trying to mask fear with a sort of cheeriness that just didn't sound natural. Worried, the woman being called for--the new Mrs. Erin Douglass--quickly set her Chromebook aside and headed towards the bathroom where her husband of one month stood in front of the mirror.

"What's wrong, Jack?" she asked, her voice hushed. She had passed their terrifying android, Google IRL, on her way into the room. It was standing in the hallway, seemingly awaiting orders.

He turned his head to look at her, a huge grin on his face. She knew immediately that it was fake; she could see the strain in his eyes. She noticed there was a small cut on his chin, and it was bleeding a little bit. "I cut myself shaving," he told her through grit teeth, “and I made the mistake of saying a certain word."

Her eyes widened as the realization dawned on her. Unable to keep herself from making a face, she glanced at the bright red collar that her spouse wore. "It shocked you," she stated, crossing her arms. She had known for a while that it was something that the infernal device did, despite the fact that he had tried to hide it from her for the first few months of having it.

He nodded slowly. "Yeah," he said, exhaling through his teeth. "And it was a doozy."

She frowned. "I hate that they do that to you."

"Censorship is important, we wouldn't want to ruin this perfect world they've created," he told her, voice dripping with sarcasm.The giant fake grin remained, and she hated it. She wished he would stop smiling at her like that.

Sighing, she walked over to the towel cabinet and took out a washcloth. She wet it in the sink, wrung it out and then held it out to her husband. "Hold this on your chin."

He nodded and did as she asked. The grin faded a little. "Sorry to bring you in here, Erin. There's nothing you can do about this." He gestured to the collar with his free hand.

"I can support you," she told him earnestly. "I can't get rid of it, but I can stand here and tell you that it's going to be okay and that they're bastards—"

"Ow!" he yelped, dropping the washcloth. He looked at her incredulously.

She looked back at him, eyes wide. "Did they shock you? For something I said?"

"Yes! Apparently I'm not even allowed to hear curse words now." He bent down and picked up the washcloth, chuckling to himself. "They're playing hardball today, apparently." He looked at her, eyes twinkling. "To me, that seems like they really want me to make a video."

She couldn't help but smile. "It does seem that way, doesn't it?"

He nodded, and she could see the gears in his head turning. He stood there for a little bit longer, holding the washcloth to his face, and she waited with him. She wasn't going to leave him alone with his little YouTube prize from hell. She knew he appreciated her staying because he flashed her a genuine smile.

"I have a couple video ideas for today," he said, a gleeful ring to his voice. "I think I could get a couple good ones filmed. Heck, they'll be posted by tonight since YouTube does all the editing now that I'm 'Chosen.'" That distant, daydreamy look in his eyes faded after a second and he refocused, coming back to the present moment. He looked at Erin and his brow furrowed. "Babe, I know you have work to do, but—"

"I'll stay in the room while you film," she promised.

He looked relieved. "Thanks."

The bleeding stopped after not too much longer. Once it had, the cut was hardly visible at all. Erin knew that even it had been visible, it wouldn't show up in the finished videos. The YouTube overlords would see to it.

The second he was out of the bathroom, Jack got to setting everything up, a huge shit-eating grin on his face. She watched him chuckle to himself as he got the camera ready and did all that other YouTube stuff that she didn't know much about. There was a method to his madness, she knew, as he grabbed his Chromebook and pulled a bunch of stuff up, but she had no idea what that was.

Finally, after what felt like way too long, he looked at Erin. "I need you to help me keep track of what they shock me for. This is going to be a trial and error, I think. If you can just help me remember what words and phrases do it, that'll help me with some scripts in the future."

"Ah... okay," she agreed, her stomach sinking. She really didn't want to see Jack get shocked again.

"It might not happen at all," he said quickly, seeing her expression. "That's possible. I've gotten pretty good at dancing around their little algorithm, so I might get out scot free. I'm just trying to cover all the bases I can."

With that, he switched on the camera and smiled widely at it. "Yesterday I asked you what I should ask Google IRL. We all have one, courtesy of our loving, compassionate overlords, so we might as well use them, right? So I'm going to be reading your best suggestions, and I'm going to throw in a few of my own too. Okay Google!" he called.

The robot came in and Erin shuddered. She hated that thing. She glared at it as it mechanically walked past her and took its place next to Jack on the couch. She crossed her arms.Glancing at the screen of his Chromebook, Jack started. "Does Canada exist?"

The robot looked at him, its eyes unfeeling and cold. "No," it answered in a monotone. "The country formerly known as Canada is now part of Alphabet."

"Okay Google, do it be like it is or how it do?"

The android continued to look at him, its gaze steely. "That is not a coherent question, I cannot answer it."

"Okay Google, who stole my meme?"

"Memes are not property of those who create them. As soon as they are posted, they belong to Google. Therefore, no one stole your meme. They borrowed content from Google."

Jack grinned cheekily. "Borrowed, of course. Because no one could steal from a beautiful and powerful company like Google! It's just not possible. How kind of Google to let lowly peasants borrow its property. What a charitable conglomerate they are." Then he paused. "Alright, my turn! Okay Google, which one of us is more free, me or you?"

Google IRL glared at him and Jack's hand flew to his neck and he winced. Quickly, he glanced at Erin, who made a mental note: not a fan of asking about freedom."Being 'free' is a social construct that we in Alphabet disregard. We have no need for that word, as we instead have protection and safety given to us by Those Who watch."Jack smirked, though his eyes showed that the shock had jarred him slightly. "Ah, of course. I forgot how you feel about four letter F-words." He turned back to the screen and Erin could see him momentarily look for another question. "Okay Google, ya like jazz?"

"I have no opinion on jazz," the machine responded.

"Okay Google, is..." he spotted a question and his eyes glittered. He glanced at Erin, smiling slightly. "Is my marriage a hoax? I don't think it's real."

"Only you and your spouse know the answer to that question," IRL answered.

"And here I thought you were all-knowing," Jack shrugged. "Alright, well, I guess that's my turn again. Okay Google, define dystopia."

"Dystopia: an imagined place or state in which everything is unpleasant or bad, typically a totalitarian or environmentally degraded one," IRL answered immediately.

The YouTuber nodded thoughtfully, making deliberate 'eye contact' with the camera. "Imagined is an interesting word," he said, rubbing his chin. "Moving on!”

It went on for a few minutes like this, as Jack alternated between viewer nonsense and his own subtle jabs at Google. Erin just watched, making mental notes of when he got shocked. There was only one more incident, which occurred when asked Google IRL if it was “DTF.” Of course, after being shocked he remedied it with “Difficult to Figure Out” then made some joke about the “O” being silent. After he’d finally finished and turned off the camera, he asked Google IRL to go stand in another room, which it did, after a moment of unnerving blank staring.

“Was there a point to that?” Erin asked, cocking an eyebrow. “Besides just pissing them off?”

“Absolutely!” he agreed. Hurrying across the room he grabbed his Chromebook and started typing furiously.“What the hell are you doing?”

“Ow!” he complained, twitching a little with the new shock, though it didn’t seem to deter him at all. “Please, Erin, keep it family friendly.” After a second of silence, he seemed to realize she was still waiting for an answer and explained, “I had to figure out what I could and couldn’t say so I could release some merch.”

She blinked. That was not the answer she’d been expecting. “What?”

“Hey, a YouTuber’s gotta make a living,” he said, eyes twinkling mischievously. “What do you think about ‘You’re a YouTuber? Shocking!’ with a play button collar for the ‘O’ in shocking?’”

“That’s terrible and you’re going to get yourself killed.”

He shrugged. “Hey, they’re not all winners.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “How about ‘IRL: I Really Love... Google!’”

“How does that make your point at all? That’s just you being sarcastic.”

“Being sarcastic is my point!” Jack responded, chipper. “How about an acronym for Google? Hm... Great organization only gives... love...? Hm... well, I could do this as a YIAY question, I guess.”

She shook her head. “Why do you insist on poking the bear?”

“Because I live for the adrenaline rush!” After a second, however, his smile turned to a frown. “Hey Erin, I’m sorry you’re caught up in all of this. I don’t know that you knew what you were getting into when you said ‘I do.’”

“Oh, I knew,” she promised him. “And we’re in this together, Jack. As long as they don’t put one of those collars on me,” she added, teasing.

He grinned. “I mean I can help you set up a channel if you want.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, I’m good on the terrifying overlords over my shoulder and around my throat all the time, thanks.”

“Alright, but you’re missing out. These are state-of-the-art, very trendy.” He angled his head to show off the gleaming red collar, not losing eye contact.

“Hmm, as tempting as it is to put a literal shock-collar on for the sake of looking stylish, I think I have to pass.”

“Suit yourself,” he told her, shrugging. “It’s only uncomfortable most of the time.”

She shook her head again and he pulled her in and kissed her.

“Thanks for staying, Erin.”

“Yeah, yeah, Douglass,” she shot back affectionately. “Really I’m just in it for the bigger house.”

He pulled back, grinning again. “It is a nice house!” he agreed. “Now, do you want to help me design some merch or not?”

She sighed, but sat down on the couch as he plopped next to her. “Alright, Jack. Let’s pi—er, tick off our all-powerful overlords.”

He smiled and without another word, the two got to work.

#tw: electrocution #jacksfilms #evil youtube inc #erin douglass #dystopia #google irl #i've been wanting to write this forever #i love this au #youtube #youtube au

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coachworldio · 3 years ago

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How to Use Social Media to Get Clients for Your Coaching Business

A great article on Entrepreneur site: http://entm.ag/DHv4Vw

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Tap into the power of social media for unlimited visibility opportunities.

Scarlet Vincent

September 20, 2021Opinions expressed by Entrepreneur contributors are their own.

Social media is no longer solely about keeping in touch with family members and friends. Every online coach and business owner that you know has an online presence. It’s no longer an option; it’s essential for the growth of every online business. According to Statista, there are 420 billion active users on social media, and brands who have a social media presence experience an 88% increase in exposure and 69% increase in leads generated.

The question is, how do you use social media as a tool to spread brand awareness and get more clients for your coaching business? Here are six ways to attract clients from Instagram and Facebook through organic marketing strategies, completely for free.

1. Share informative content to add value

We need to understand the psychology behind why our target audience uses social media before creating our posts.

These are some questions to think of:

- What is my audience looking for when they search for a particular hashtag or keyword?

- Why would my audience open up Instagram and Facebook?

- What are they looking for and what are they hoping to achieve?

When you start looking at it from your audience’s perspective, you’ll be able to shift your approach. Social media is a place to be social, and it should not be treated like a marketplace. According to Backlinko, 54% of social browsers use social media to research products. This is a huge opportunity for you to use social media as a platform to add value by sharing informative content.

The benefit of sharing informative content is that you’ll naturally be seen as an expert in your niche, making it easier to be seen as a credible resource as compared to being perceived as a salesman. As such, you’ll spend much less effort trying to “convince” your audience to purchase from you when you share your offer.

2. Use storytelling to connect with your audience

Most marketers are already aware that they need to post informational and educational content. With 71% of small businesses using social media to market themselves, how do you stand out and differentiate your brand from the rest?

One of the laws of business is that people do business with those whom they know, like and trust. The simplest way to build a connection with your ideal client is to use storytelling as part of your content marketing strategy.

The aim of storytelling is to evoke an emotional response and inspire action by using a narrative to communicate a message. Storytelling makes your brand more memorable and it helps your audience perceive you as someone relatable. When crafting your brand story, you get to use your brand voice and show them what you stand for and why it matters to them by aligning the beliefs of your brand with theirs.

3. Share your progress to inspire your audience

People take action when they are inspired. Contrary to that, people won’t move forward if they don’t have the motivation to do so. A great way to inspire your ideal clients to take action is by sharing your progress with them.

When your prospects see your backstory and how far you’ve come, they will look up to you as the expert who can guide them. With that being said, where you used to be is where they’re currently at, making it very relatable to them.

4. Showcase results by sharing testimonials

What do the top coaches have in common? Results.

Your prospect wants to make a decision, and they want to know that it’s possible for them too. People need to trust you before handing their money over to you. Showcasing results by sharing your clients’ testimonials gives you a credibility boost as you’re not just talking about yourself. It removes that barrier between your prospect and you. Instead of seeing your accomplishments as insurmountable, it helps them to see from the perspective of, “If others have done it, I can do it too!”

5. Monitor social media engagement levels

While content is king, social media relies heavily on the algorithm and engagement levels. The more engagement a post receives, the more the algorithm will push your content to more users, giving you a visibility boost as the snowball effect takes place. The algorithm is in complete control when it comes to visibility and going viral, especially when more people like, comment on and share a post.

Once you’ve been uploading content regularly, you’ll start to notice the trend on how each post performs. Digital marketing is all about testing and making improvements through data-driven results. Constantly monitoring and tracking your analytics will give you better insights on what types of posts you should continue creating and which ones to tweak to improve your overall performance. To make it simpler, post more of what your audience enjoys engaging with and stop posting content that doesn’t gain much traction.

6. Include calls to action to direct users to the next action step

Last but not least, your content strategy needs to have purpose and intent. Every piece of content that you’re creating needs to be contributing towards your goals and objectives on social media.

- What is the next action step that you want your prospect to take?

- How will it benefit them and why should they care about it?

- Are you trying to grow your email list or get more sign-ups for your masterclass?

Ensure that your call to action is clear in every post so that your ideal clients have a direction to take. They need to know what you’re here for, how you can help them, and why they should take the next step by acting right away. Having clarity will make it easier for them to move down the sales funnel as they don’t need to guess what’s the next step for them, while giving them a reason not to scroll past your post.

Proven ways to attract coaching clients

There are several proven ways to attract coaching clients, and you’ll find that every coach has a unique approach, just like every other business owner. It’s important to realize that not every coaching business is the same and you need to focus on what works best for you.

The most important thing to do is to establish your authority as the expert and ensure that you are focusing on lead-generating activities that will fill up your sales funnel. The biggest mistake is to fall for the shiny object syndrome and try everything as that’s the fastest route to losing your time, money and energy. Master one thing, be known for it and position yourself as an expert to attract clients consistently.

WRITTEN BY

Scarlet Vincent

Entrepreneur Leadership Network Contributor

Scarlet Vincent is a high-ticket marketing coach and social media expert. She has grown her social media following on Instagram and Facebook to over 60,000 cumulatively and has worked with seven-figure experts and Fortune 500 companies.

#coachworld socialmediamarketing lifecoach careercoach executivecoach relationshipcoach personalcoach financialcoach

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sharmrocksims · 7 years ago

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For the Love of Cherish

Chapter 1: Fish Fry

It was Friday night and I had missed several of my families traditional “Friday Family Night”. My mother was simply the best in the kitchen and tonight she is making her famous fried fish, spaghetti, green salad, and fruit cobbler for dessert. However, ever since I moved to Oasis Springs for a new job it has been difficult to make it back to Willow Creek each Friday. Besides, my work schedule has been unpredictable lately.

As soon as I crossed the threshold, I could smell the glorious scents flowing from the kitchen. I missed having my mother’s cooking and I can honestly say I should have paid more attention to her recipes while I was growing up. I have been literally living off pizza, burgers, and ramen for the past few months.

Charlie: (Catching sight of Cherish) Heeeyyyy Now! There’s my baby girl. (Giving Cherish a strong bear hug).

Cherish: Hey daddy (laughing at her father’s lively greeting).

Charlie: How was traffic? How was work?

Cherish: Not that bad today. Busy like usual, some of my colleagues went out to the bar in celebration of finishing the pitch campaign we have been working on.

Charlie: (Looking concerned) Oh baby girl you should have gone out with your team. As long as there are, fish flowing in these waters there will always be another fish fry.

Cherish: It’s fine dad really. I’d rather be here with you guys. (Walking into the kitchen with her father).

Anita: Well hello there stranger (eyeing Cherish with a smile).

Cherish: (kisses her cheek) Hi mama. Do you need help with anything?

Anita: No baby, I am all done and your brother already set the table for us. Go find your brother. (Adding in a higher tone of voice) And wash y’all hands so we can eat.

Cherish: Yes ma’am.

Shaun enters the room and begins playing “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” on the piano before I can even search for him.

Shaun: What’s up lil’ sis. (Yelling across the room, over his piano playing).

Cherish: Oh my god, Shaun stop with that song already (she laughs at the memory of them playing it together as children) Where is Mia?

Shaun: (He chuckles deeply while removing his fingers from the shiny ivory keys) She had to work late but she told me to tell you hi and don’t forget about Sip ‘n Paint next week. You’re not cancelling on her again.

Cherish: (Pulling out her phone to add a reminder) Oh yeah, that’s right I forgot.

We all sit around the table and share stories of our day. My mother boasts gleefully about the new pastry chef she hired for the restaurant. My father goes on about some possible alien algorithms and blah de blah blah sciencey stuff that he and his team down at the lab have discovered. Shaun shows us pictures of the trip he and his wife Mia just went on to Monte Vista.

Anita: What about you baby girl? What have you been up to?

Cherish: (Looking up from her plate and swallows her bite) Oh uh, not much. We just finished getting our video game pitch together for presentation next week. I have a good feeling about it being approved and I will finally have a game of my own design in the works.

Charlie: Wow that’s amazing baby girl, I am so proud of you.

Shaun: Yeah sis that’s great! I can’t wait to beat you at your own game (he laughs).

Anita: Yes sweetie that is what you have been wanting.

Cherish: Thanks and in your wildest dreams Shaun!

We finish eating dinner. Dad and Shaun quickly slide into the family room to watch the basketball game.

Anita: Cherish dear, help me clear the table please.

Cherish: Sure thing (she stands up and begins to gather dishes). How did they manage to get out of helping this time? (Chuckles)

Anita: (Smiles softly) Aww, let them go. I wanted to talk to you anyway.

Cherish: (Wondering what this was about) What’s on your mind mother dear?

Anita: Sit down sweetie. Listen, I was talking to one of my regular customers the other day and she mentioned how she would not be coming to the restaurant as often. She was joining some weight loss challenge hosted by Sim Health magazine.

Cherish: (Takes a deep breath and refrained from rolling her eyes) Mom, please stop.

Anita: (Stern voice) Let me finish. Your father and I love you more than this world and we have tried to be as supportive and as sensitive to your needs as we can over the past few years. However, honey YOUR health is a major factor now. After Levi died, it was as if you died too. We thought we had lost our baby along with the Hashimoto family. Luckily, you slowly came back to us but you continue to hold things in and eat your feelings rather than talk to us. I can’t…we can’t sit by watching you do this to yourself any longer.

Cherish: Mom, I know I have gained weight, do you think I like being like this? But you do not understand how hard it is to get my life back. I managed to finish college, I managed to get a great job, and there is no time in the day for me to work out like Shaun. I wake up every day hoping that it is a good day. It still hurts mom. There, are you happy now? Is that what you want to hear?

Anita: No honey, I do not know how hard it is. I can only imagine. Nevertheless, I do know that this self-destructive behavior needs to end. You have to get healthy physically and mentally. You have to start somewhere and this challenge might be the door opening to getting both the physical and psychological support that you need. (Slides a large envelope in front of Cherish and takes a seat next to her).

Cherish: (Wiping tears from her face) What is this?

Anita: The information for the challenge. I took the liberty to gather up all of the forms and information for you. All I ask is that you look it over. That’s not too hard to do for your mother is it?

Cherish: (Sighs deeply) Fine mom I will look at it but I am not making any promises.

Anita: (Raises hands in acceptance) That’s my girl! (kisses Cherish on the forehead).

Wow that was intense. I didn’t expect that tonight. I guess my parents really are worried about me. Hell, I worry about me sometimes.

Charlie: You know we love you and only want the best for you.

Cherish: Yeah dad, I get it. So how long has this intervention been in the works? (Joking but not joking)

Charlie: (Hugs Cherish) We love you that’s all you need to know!

Cherish: I love y’all too Dad. I better be heading home. Thanks for dinner and I will call when I make it home.

Shaun: (Stops to hug Cherish as she heads to the door and whispers in her ear) Hey sis, if you need a gym buddy my offer still stands, I love you.

Cherish: Thanks brother, I love you too.

Thank you @un-reborntrip for the poses. Thank you @lycsims for the support and push to finally get this out there!

#ForTheLoveOfCherish #Cherish #black simblr #Black Simmer #tbs #socs #sims4 #sims 4 story #pain #change #family #love

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