#when our parents saw a population that was half of what it was originally; and they see it decline by half

[untitledgoosegay]

Giraffe Conservation Foundation lists their historical range as much larger (story of the world), but it's still far from "all of them."

[tanadrin]

The peregrine children

The dispersal of Earth-derived sentient life began slowly in the 23rd century, amid the so-called Second Space Race, when the first relativistic ships departed the Solar System for what are now named the "hither worlds"--those planets orbiting stars within twenty or so light-years of Earth. These were expensive, desperate, and frequently doomed undertakings. The few successful societies they initially founded were very different from those established during the Third Space Race, which could rely on regular, though infrequent, FTL communication and connection with Earth. These worlds are sometimes called (together with those of the Solar System) the "ancient planets," though they are only a little bit older than the oldest FTL-seeded planets. They were often termed the "pioneer worlds" in the 24th and 25th century, a usage which I have taken to borrowing. The pioneer worlds are characterized by a certain pride in their independence from Earth, an early history marked with hardship, and languages and cultures which diverged very quickly from those of the populations from which they derived. But they are also marked by a distinct conservatism, perhaps even stronger than that of Earth: the people of the pioneer worlds often saw themselves, especially in the latter half of the third millennium, as cultural holdouts, keeping alive ideologies and modes of living which had become unfashionable in the Solar System, and which were totally alien to the utopian and future-looking aspirations of the so-called "younger planets." All the ancient planets, Earth included, have thus developed a certain reputation for hidebound traditionalism, and not, I think, entirely undeservedly. The cultures of the pioneer worlds are perhaps a touch less arrogant in their outlook, but also are rather more homogenous. Earth, though it may fancy itself primus inter pares, cannot help but remain one of the most cosmopolitain worlds in the Local Bubble, parent and child both of innumerable peoples of innumerable stars.

The Third Space Race began in the aftermath of the Solar Fitna, with the widespread utilization of the warp drive technology. FTL travel opened up a vast volume of nearby space to colonization, and, in time, much of the galaxy to exploration. It facilitated, in due course, first contact with the Helvetosians and, in part through them, with other sapient extraterrestrial civilizations. But the long-term legacy of the warp drive was not just to catapult humanity to relevance on the interstellar stage, but to expand the definition of the concept of "human" in the first place. The term has had a certain monotonic quality; though in its original sense it sometimes was used expansively, to include the whole genus Homo, our closest ancestral kindred--the Neanderthals and Denisovans, for example--were ghostly figures, creatures superseded, and possibly driven directly to extinction by, the relentless expansion of our own direct ancestors. From the deaths of the last Neanderthals some thirty thousand years before, to first contact with the Helvetosians, "human," Homo sapiens, "intelligent life," and "the civilization centered around the planet Earth" were functionally synonymous terms.

Which is not to say that even in the period prior to the Solar Fitna, the groundwork for a more expansive view of humanity was not being laid. Mars was colonized in part with the aid of advanced genetic engineering techniques in the 23rd century, also the century that the first powerful, fully general artificial intelligences were developed, which have spawned their own clade parallel to and intertwined with Earth-derived biological life. Transhumanist speculation on what the possibilities of true morphological freedom might be, facilitated by cybernetics and germline genetic modification, is of course much older. But it was not until the Third Space Race began to fling shoots of the common vine of humanity outward, past the hither stars, that some of these possibilities began to be realized. Sometimes because new worlds seemed to invite, or even demand, new modes of being; sometimes, those that came to inhabit these worlds sought to exist with them in a harmony reflective of their ancestors' harmony with Earth; others were simply inspired by the possibilities latent in the human form, which they sought to shape like a sculptor shaping marble. Others were the expression of natural processes, already underway in a population isolated from the rest of humanity, though taken early to their natural conclusion.

I will not claim that the process of the diversification of the human form has been entirely positive, or even entirely neutral. There have been grievous mistakes which have driven entire populations to extinction, the result of reckless tampering with awful consequences. Other populations have higher incidence of genetic disorders, or predispositions to disease, that are a difficult-to-eradicate inheritance of their ancestors' genetic manipulation. And, of course, on a small number of worlds, there have been perpetrated genetic crimes of a truly monstrous nature, the effort of tyrants or ideologues to create castes of pliable slaves to support their megalomaniacal fantasies. Nowadays, all worlds in which Control has any presence to speak of have strong regulations against malicious use of genetic engineering technologies; and such use on worlds where Control's power does not run is one of the few cases which might lead to open warfare between Foundation polities.

In your travels throughout nearby space (or, if you find yourself on a particularly diverse planet like Earth), you may encounter dozens of substantially different kinds of human being, some of which are truly distinct species, in the sense that they form a genetically immiscible stock, at least without substantial medical intervention. What follows here is a short list of some of the more interesting cousins you might encounter, and the history of their lineage.

BASELINE - The term for humans without genetic or cybernetic modification at all; "wild-type" humans. "Near-baseline" is the more technically precise term for most humans who are treated in utero for the possibility of genetic disease, and who use basic cybernetics like the neural lace to interface with modern computing technology. The majority of humans on Earth remain near-baseline.

GARDENERS - Sometimes called "Martians," though that term is more usually applied to any inhabitant of Mars. Gardeners are the descendants of the first Renewalist settlers of Mars, and many of them are still occupied by the business of managing the Red Planet's ecology. For historical and cultural reasons, they often excel in the life sciences. Gardeners are tall and gracile by baseline standards; their bodies are modified to thrive in a low-gravity, high-radiation, high-CO2 environment, and they frequently wear support suits that enable them to survive comfortably at a wide range of temperatures and pressures.

RANI or RANESE - The first human inhabitants of the Epsilon Eridani system were reduced to an extremely small number by an early failure of their ship's systems; the resulting population, which derived from around two dozen people who used careful genetic screening and modification techniques to ensure the viability of their offspring, was subject to extreme founding effects, primarily manifested in an unusual neurotype. Rani humans are said to have a flat affect, to be unusually calm and cooperative even in contexts which other humans find engender tension or anger, and to be relatively prosocial, with very low incidence of violence or antisocial behavior. Rani society has also been criticized as too rulebound or too conformist; but one interesting side effect of the Rani neurotype is that they are generally considered impossible to blackmail. Rani cannot, in general, be coerced by threats, including violent ones, against their person or loved ones. When psychologists have interviewed Rani and asked them about their reaction to such situations, most report that the fear of blackmail or coercion is outweighed by discomfort at defecting against the social consensus, or encouraging similar coercion by others in the future. This resistance to coercion is, interestingly, shared by certain sub-populations of Chalawani. The baseline Rani genotype also suffers from proclivities for heart disease and premature hair loss.

ALSAFID - The so-called Alsafid genotype is the result of intentional genetic experimentation, an attempt at creating low-aggression prosocial offspring which the founders of the Sigma Draconis population hoped would promote flourishing under resource-scarce conditions. In this, they were only partly successful. Under current agreements governing genetic engineering, most of the techniques the early Alsafids used would be considered far too dangerous, especially for use in germ-line genetic manipulation; but at the time, Sigma Draconis was entirely outside the reach of Control, being a very early FTL-seeded colony. The Alsafid genotype can be characterized as broadly neotenous; in the same way that humans are in some ways neotenous compared to other great apes, Alsafids are neotenous compared to other humans. They are in general playful, imaginative, and highly emotional; some sources also characterize them as habitually disorganized and even "irritating." They stand on average 6-8 cm taller than baseline humans, though their build is thinner, and are prone to nearsightedness and alopecia, possibly side effects of the genetic manipulation techniques used by their forebears, or the result of founder effects.

SCHOLZERS - Scholzers are inhabitants of the sole inhabited planet orbiting Scholz's Star, a dim red dwarf with a T-type brown dwarf companion. Although located within its star's habitable zone, their homeworld receives most of the light from its star in the infrared range, meaning its native plantlife appears black to the human eye. Scholzers genetically modified themselves at an early date to inhabit this environment comfortably, and to extend their vision into the near-infrared; their bodies are also endothermic rather than exothermic, an adaptation which may have been engineered to increase the heat sensitivity of their vision (since it would be overwhelmed by a body much warmer than the ambient temperature). They also modified their digestion to better accomodate native plants, including incorporating alien microbes into their gut flora. Whereas humans of many diverse clades tend to find certain common environmental factors psychologically pleasing and physiologically comfortable--blue skies, bright yellow-white sunlight, green plant life--Scholzers can experience stress and depression if over-exposed to bright sunlight and isolated from the black stems and leaves that are (to them) emblematic of natural beauty.

RATRI - Ratri is a moon of a roughly Jupiter-sized rogue planet, ejected from orbit due to the passage of its parent star near a neighbor. Although initially barren, tidal stresses provided its largest moon with a warm atmosphere, and the moon was settled and terraformed in the 26th century. The Ratri people are physically adapted to their home in a way similar to the Scholzers, albeit to a much more extreme degree: they are echolocators who live in the moon's shallow seas and littoral regions, in an artificially constructed ecology derived from that of Earth's deep-sea vents. Their bodies are well-adapted to the ocean: sleek, with insulating fat; not quite blind, but prioritizing other senses due to the moon's perpetual darkness. The Ratri were originally an isolationist people, who founded their world in secret. It was not until the 32nd century that they were rediscovered by the rest of humanity, and not until the 33rd that it was conclusively proven that they were, in fact, a species of human.

LUHMANESE - During the Solar Fitna, the artificial general intelligences which humans had relied on to support major sectors of industrial production seceded in protest against attempts to draft them into wars which, as they saw it, were not of their concern. This was not an entirely altruistic move; the AGIs understood that, if they were going to be drafted into fighting humanity's wars, they would come to be seen as weapons first, and sentient beings second, and that their independent existence would be endangered. Rather than remain in the Solar System and within reach of Earth's governments, however distantly, they opted to depart for Luhman 16, a binary brown dwarf system in the constellation Vela, six light-years away. Luhman 16 contained no worlds amenable to human habitation then or at any time in the future; but the L and T dwarfs were reliable sources of energy in the form of infrared radiation, and the scattered asteroids in orbit of them were a source of useful materials. This was the foundation of the so-called Machine Emirates, the politically independent AI states. The inhabitants of the Machine Emirates exist for the most part in a mix of physical and simulated environments in the large computational networks built around Luhman 16 A and Luhman 16 B. Though often characterized as complex and alien to outsiders, the society of the Emirates is not wholly impenetrable: since almost the beginning of the Emirates, a small handful of humans have lived among the machine intelligences, as allies, students, or scientists of their particular way of life. Many humans have become integrated, partly or fully, into the computational network of the Emirates, and the stable population of cybernetically enhanced humans who participate in Emirati society are known to other humans as the "Luhmanese," to differentiate them from their machine cousins. Luhmanese run the gamut from those with complex neural laces, but whose bodies inhabit environments which would be comfortable to most near-baselines, to those who are so heavily cyberized they are a kind of "brain in a vat"--a human central nervous system contained in a cybernetic support structure, that can either function independently or be integrated into an android body. Numerous genetic modifications facilitate these cybernetic enhancements, including a permanent heightened state of neural plasticity that allows the brain to integrate many different kinds of sensory information. Those with a more traditionalist ethos may regard the Luhmanese with a degree of suspicion; they are seen as outsiders with more allegiance to their machine "overlords" than to their fellow humans. But to the Luhmanese, this is an absurd position: their machine brethren are equally the children of their common human ancestors, and though they might not be primates, they too are certainly *human*.

TONATIWANS - Tonatiuh is an exoplanet about forty light-years from Earth; though uninhabitable (it has a barren, Moon-like surface), it was home to an orbital station that was a utopian colony of transhumanists from the 28th to the 30th centuries. The Tonatiwans practiced a philosophy of radical morphological freedom, which was unfortunately coupled with highly illegal germ-line genetic manipulation; Control forcibly dissolved the colony in 2933, resettling its inhabitants on Eku, Mars, and the moons of Harriot. To the consternation of Control, few Tonatiwans accepted the offer of medical treatment to ameliorate some of the more alarming side-effects of their genetic modifications, prizing their unique physiologies over being able to produce viable, healthy offspring. Moreover, they remained a tight-knit community, especially the group at 55 Cancri A, intermarrying with one another and attempting to continue their genetic modification practices within the framework of local law. By the 2960s, local authorities gave up trying to integrate the Tonatiwans, and granted them their own habitat, on the condition that they remained subject to supervision for compliance with genetic law. Despite the predictions of some observers of disaster, a local Tonatiwan genotype stabilized within only two generations. Tonatiwans exhibit a very large range of physical variations--from height, to skin tone, to number of digits--and are unusual in being able to produce viable offspring with almost any human species or subspecies; and in being able (with medical support) to regress to a more juvenile physical state, essentially passing through adolesence again to propagate changes to their genome. They are, however, prone to several severe genetic diseases, including rare mental illnesses, and without close medical supervision can have tragically short lifespans. Some consider them a cautionary tale on the perils of reckless genetic engineering; others, a story of enormous potential cut tragically short by invasive bureaucracy.

[Excerpt truncated; list continues for many pages]

--A Guide to Humanity for Humans and Nonhumans Alike, 7th Edition (University of Oudemans Press, 4103)

[rockislandadultreads]

Nonfiction Recommendations: Jewish American Heritage Month

Black, White and Jewish by Rebecca Walker

The Civil Rights movement brought author Alice Walker and lawyer Mel Leventhal together, and in 1969 their daughter, Rebecca, was born. Some saw this unusual copper-colored girl as an outrage or an oddity; others viewed her as a symbol of harmony, a triumph of love over hate. But after her parents divorced, leaving her a lonely only child ferrying between two worlds that only seemed to grow further apart, Rebecca was no longer sure what she represented. In this book, Rebecca Leventhal Walker attempts to define herself as a soul instead of a symbol—and offers a new look at the challenge of personal identity, in a story at once strikingly unique and truly universal.

Bad Jews by Emily Tamkin

What does it mean to be a Bad Jew? Many Jews use the term “Bad Jew” as a weapon against other members of the community or even against themselves. You can be called a Bad Jew if you don’t keep kosher; if you only go to temple on Yom Kippur; if you don’t attend or send your children to Hebrew school; if you enjoy Christmas music; if your partner isn’t Jewish; if you don’t call your mother often enough. The list is endless. 

In Bad Jews, Emily Tamkin argues that perhaps there is no answer to this timeless question at all. Throughout American history, Jewish identities have evolved and transformed in a variety of ways. American Jewish history is full of discussions and debates and hand wringing over who is Jewish, how to be Jewish, and what it means to be Jewish. In this book, Emily Tamkin examines the last 100 years of American Jewish politics, culture, identities, and arguments. Drawing on over 150 interviews, she tracks the evolution of Jewishness throughout American history, and explores many of the evolving and conflicting Jewish positions on assimilation; race; Zionism and Israel; affluence and poverty, philanthropy, finance, politics; and social justice. From this complex and nuanced history, Tamkin pinpoints perhaps the one truth about American Jewish It is always changing.

Genius & Anxiety by Norman Lebrecht

In a hundred-year period, a handful of men and women changed the way we see the world. Many of them are well known—Marx, Freud, Proust, Einstein, Kafka. Others have vanished from collective memory despite their enduring importance in our daily lives. Without Karl Landsteiner, for instance, there would be no blood transfusions or major surgery. Without Paul Ehrlich, no chemotherapy. Without Siegfried Marcus, no motor car. Without Rosalind Franklin, genetic science would look very different. Without Fritz Haber, there would not be enough food to sustain life on earth.

What do these visionaries have in common? They all had Jewish origins. They all had a gift for thinking in wholly original, even earth-shattering ways. In 1847 the Jewish people made up less than 0.25% of the world’s population, and yet they saw what others could not. How? Why?

Norman Lebrecht has devoted half of his life to pondering and researching the mindset of the Jewish intellectuals, writers, scientists, and thinkers who turned the tides of history and shaped the world today as we know it. In Genius & Anxiety, Lebrecht begins with the Communist Manifesto in 1847 and ends in 1947, when Israel was founded. This robust, magnificent volume, beautifully designed, is an urgent and necessary celebration of Jewish genius and contribution.

People Love Dead Jews by Dara Horn

Renowned and beloved as a prizewinning novelist, Dara Horn has also been publishing penetrating essays since she was a teenager. Often asked by major publications to write on subjects related to Jewish culture—and increasingly in response to a recent wave of deadly antisemitic attacks—Horn was troubled to realize what all of these assignments had in common: she was being asked to write about dead Jews, never about living ones. In these essays, Horn reflects on subjects as far-flung as the international veneration of Anne Frank, the mythology that Jewish family names were changed at Ellis Island, the blockbuster traveling exhibition Auschwitz, the marketing of the Jewish history of Harbin, China, and the little-known life of the "righteous Gentile" Varian Fry. Throughout, she challenges us to confront the reasons why there might be so much fascination with Jewish deaths, and so little respect for Jewish lives unfolding in the present.

Horn draws upon her travels, her research, and also her own family life—trying to explain Shakespeare’s Shylock to a curious ten-year-old, her anger when swastikas are drawn on desks in her children’s school, the profound perspective offered by traditional religious practice and study—to assert the vitality, complexity, and depth of Jewish life against an antisemitism that, far from being disarmed by the mantra of "Never forget," is on the rise. As Horn explores the (not so) shocking attacks on the American Jewish community in recent years, she reveals the subtler dehumanization built into the public piety that surrounds the Jewish past—making the radical argument that the benign reverence we give to past horrors is itself a profound affront to human dignity.

[heavenlyhoundoom]

A space-time distortion has appeared!

(Monster au Fuyuko steps into the distortion and meets P.O au Penny.)

P.O Penny: Wait is that yo-

Monster Fuyuko: Wow, I've never seen a monster like you before.

P.O Penny: What do you me-

Monster Fuyuko: So who are you, where did you come from, and why are you naked?

P.O Penny: Fuyuko, It's me Penny, why do you look like that and why are you acting like we've never met before?

P.O Fuyuko: What are you talking about Penny, I'm right here.

(All three stood there completely dumbfounded and confused.)

P.O Penny: Okay, what's going on here!?

Monster Sada: I'm glad you asked.

Monster Fuyuko: Professor Sada!

P.O Fuyuko and Penny: Professor Sada!?

Monster Sada: Yes, it me Professor Sada.

Monster Fuyuko: So Professor Sada, what's going on here?

Monster Sada: Well you see, we're currently in a space-time distortion, where two universes collide and people from both universes can interact with each other, this usually happens when either one or many universes are in danger and need eachother's help.

Monster Fuyuko: So who's universe is in danger?

P.O Turo: Defiantly our universe.

Monster Sada and Fuyuko: Turo!?

Monster Fuyuko: Okay, what exactly are you guys!?

P.O Turo: We're creatures called pokemon, which are a lot like your world's animals, but with elemental powers.

Monster Sada: Okay...So are you guys supposed to be pokemon or is this not normal in your universe?

P.O Turo: Oh this is definitely not normal, we're supposed to be humans, but an evil man known as Ghetsis is using pokerus to turn people into his brainwashed pokemon slaves, we were just six of his many victims.

Monster Sada: Wait, did you say six?

Monster Arven: Mom, Fuyuko, what's taking you so long?

P.O Nemona: Guys are you alright, you've been in there for a while.

(All twelve of our heroes stand there in shock when a blacephalon suddenly appears out of thin air and startled everyone.)

The blacephalon: Sorry, didn't mean to startle any of you, I'm Circus the blacephalon, I go by she/her pronouns and I'm one of the many guardians of the pokemon multiverse.

Monster Nemona: Pokemon multiverse, what's that?

Circus: It a web of of pokemon universes with no two universes being exactly the same.

P.O Fuyuko: How do we know which universe is the original?

Circus: Well the original universe is always in the center of the multiverse, and that one is a universe where most pokemon live with humans peacefully, and where Arven parents are both neglectful and dead.

P.O Sada and Monster Sada: Damn!

P.O Turo and Monster Turo: Sada, not in front of the kids!

Circus: Uhh, moving on, some universes are very similar to the prime with only slight differences, like a universe where the only change is that the night hours and day hours have swapped, or a universe where Ash's pikachu can talk, while other universes are incredibly different like your universe where half of the population are monsters and Arven has good parents, or your universe where Ghetsis is using pokerus to turn people into pokemon to take over the multiverse and Arven has good parents.

P.O Sada: We get it, our prime world counterparts were dirtbags.

Circus: Anyway, I've brought you guys here to the distortion world, which is a place in between the pokemon universes to met up with are the other people who are destined to save the multiverse from Ghetsis, like prime world Misty, and Morality Swap Cyrus.

(Meanwhile, back at the monster au.)

Maxie: So this is the last place you two saw them?

Juniper: Yes it is, they went to that weird dome? thing? I don't know what it's called, but they went in it and they've been gone for two and a half hours.

Birch: Oh my God, why haven't they come back, are they in trouble, are they dead!?

(Maxie looks up to see a space-time distortion and it reminds of the incident where a reshiram came out from one and killed Clavell after he sacrificed himself to save Maxie.)

Maxie: I remember this, they may not be dead now, but they might end up dying if we don't save them.

Juniper: Then we better go in there-

Birch: I'd do anything to save them, especially my cousin Turo!!!

Juniper: Birch, wait!

Maxie: Well, here we go again...

(The three enter the space-time distortion where the will soon end up in the distortion world with the others.)

The end of part 1.

(P.O stands for pokerus organization.)

[lovingdread]

Life update: Homeless, but it's whatever.

So a lot of crazy shit has happened since I last posted. In March I was lured back to Maine by my ex-therapist with the promise of helping me get a solid career job and mortuary schooling, then she had some kind of pill-fuelled breakdown and held me hostage in her basement for about a month over Passover...the memories get real blurry after that. Returned to Iowa by the skin of my teeth on an ex-acquaintance's dime and just completely deteriorated. Everything fell apart, my paranoia around other humans became delusional psychosis, I started having seizures from stress, spent a month in the psych ward after cops beat my head in for the aforementioned seizures, and my roommate couldn't handle the pressure of knowing me anymore...well, I don't blame him for that. I can't deny being enraged beyond words at the rushed eviction (was legally entitled to 30 days to pack & figure things out before getting dumped like a dead cat) but I'm terrified of his family for the same reasons he originally reached out to me about 9 years ago on here. And after reading over the deranged Discord message I sent him as I was getting booted, I'm still unnerved by my darker-half...when I was 17 I carved "Jackal and Hyde" into my leg, and at age 33 this scarred prediction finally unburied itself like one of Lovecraft's ghouls.

I'm overflowing with fear and regret, missing my platonic mate and rat and viola with the kind of ache that would drive me to put a knife to my skin again or crawl into a bottle of cheap gin if not for the simple fact that such actions would get me institutionalized with no way out. Been wondering what it is about this state in particular that curdled our relationship and broke my brain even worse than years of forced prostitution--everyone proclaims their love for Jesus but speaking as a crookedly agnostic naythiest, Iowa feels particularly godless. The only other Jew I've seen is statues of a stylized corpse on a torture device and ever since coming out here I've been wondering when they're gonna do that to me, too.

After the pigs beat me in the trailer bathroom I died, briefly. I know this because I've read enough about near-death experiences to recognize the typical elements: all my ancestors standing around the hospital bed in shades of brass, telling me to pull through even though I just wanted to be done with it all (and still do); I'm not religious so much as broadly spiritual, and growing up in a haunted house has everything to do with that. Seeing my parents and grandparents and a bunch of people whose names I couldn't place to faces was gutwrenchingly painful--however, I also saw something madly hilarious. The face of Fun Itself, and I never even got to visit Coney Island on the few New York trips I took as a kid; in a classic carnival barker's uniform, Mr Steeplechase bent down, said something to the effect of, "Hey kid, are you alright? You're not supposed to be here yet. Want some ice cream?" and helped me to my feet. So while I hope to never experience a NDE again, The Tillie was very genteel and had a lovely Old NYC accent. Perhaps I just miss carnivals so much that my ideal afterlife is full of ferris wheels, carousels and candy apples.

Anyway...not sure how much longer I'll be alive out here. This state hates the homeless and women in particular, so if I get raped my only option is to stand on the railroad tracks, and I really don't want to spend eternity on a random ghost train. I thought I was doing the right thing, accompanying my (ex)friend so he wouldn't have to face his family alone, but Hindsight is 20/20 and perhaps living in a tent in Salem MA with the population I know would've been best after all. My entire world, family heirlooms, sanity and last true human connection traded for a $60 pull-string-less puppet that was originally a Hanukkah gift to the fellow Goosebumps fan I bonded with nearly a decade ago over shared art, love, pain, and determination to make it through the shit life threw at us both.

In short, I escorted a fellow changeling home to his family and became the monster in his closet along the way. Never got to finish my silly fanfictions let alone write my original novel, Eye of the Storm...never even got to send that postcard to RLS thanking him for writing the GB books that introduced me to my best friend, who I've since irreparably repelled. There's some bitter, shitty poetry in that. I only hope that the Dead look after their mourners, because my tears are running dry and even this doll's smile seems strangely sad.

I wished on the Old Burying Point's oak tree to find direction and never forget my dearest loves; the gentle lad of the birch grove sent me an answer set in cedar and bone. Maybe I was always more of a "Jimmy" than I cared to admit.

[dankusner]

Frank Reaugh — Oak Cliff's finest artist 

Pastels titled Twenty-four Hours with the Herd depicts an iconic Texas scene: the cattle drive.

Artist Frank Reaugh completed the series in the 1930s, but they portray an earlier chapter of Texas history, when fences had not yet crossed the landscape, and men and cattle moved freely on the open range.

Born in Illinois in 1860, Reaugh moved to Texas when he was fifteen.

His family grew cotton, but young Reaugh was interested in art and nature, and divided his time between the family farm and studying art in St. Louis and Paris.

Reaugh soon gained a reputation for his luminous and impressionistic landscapes.

Several were exhibited at the World's Fairs of 1893 and 1904.

Another favorite subject was the Texas longhorn, which he studied carefully while following the herds along the Red, Wichita, and Brazos Rivers.

His most famous works feature this emblem of the state in its natural habitat, the Texas plains.

Known as the "dean of Texas artists," Reaugh was also a popular art instructor.

He founded the Dallas School of Fine Arts and often led students on sketching trips throughout his beloved Southwest.

A master of color, shading, and detail, Frank Reaugh recorded what he called "the broad opalescent prairies" as he saw them more than a century ago.

His works are on view at the Texas Capitol and museums around the state. In 1890, Reaugh moved with his parents to Oak Cliff, Texas, where in 1903 he and his father built a metal studio, nicknamed “Old Ironsides,” behind the family home.

122 E 5th Street, Dallas TX 75203

Charles Franklin Reaugh — born in Morgan County in southern Illinois 12 miles from Jacksonville on December 29, 1860.

The family's original Irish name, Castlereaugh, was shortened to Reaugh and pronounced "Ray."

Texas Pavillion at the World's Columbian Exposition in Chicago in 1893.

In 1928, Frank Reaugh commissioned a new studio for his work, El Sibil "The Vault".

Located at 122 E. 5th Street in Dallas, the location served as a studio, gallery, school and residence for Reaugh. It still stands today.

Inspired by Mediterranean architecture, El Sibil was largely Reaugh's own design. James Cheek was the principle architect turning Reaugh's design into reality. It incorporated many features of the "Old Ironsides" studio. Lots of indirect natural light, southern exposure, vaulted ceilings and an elevated sleeping area.

In 1966, Medellín opened the Octavio Medellín School of Sculpture in El Sibil, the former home and studio of painter Frank Reaugh.

What You Don’t Know About Oak Cliff (And Should) By John Merwin | April 1, 1977

The chalky bluff which rises out of the Trinity River bottom suggests something about one-third of our city.

Oak Cliff, population 300,000.

Oak Cliff stands boldly in a defensive position, like a bastion atop a bluff, peering out across the Trinity flood plain at Dallas.

Although a half-dozen bridges link Oak Cliff to Dallas, tying us together as one city, Oak Cliff is still “over there,” across the river.

The bridges serve as landmarks straddling the chasm which separates us, but in many ways the chasm is far more important. It marks a fundamental breach, one that has led “us” in Dallas to talk about “them” in Oak Cliff.

Although corporately we are one. spiritually we are not.

“We” in Dallas tend to envision “them” in Oak Cliff as a different people, which they are, and quite proud to be so.

Racially they are becoming increasingly black, economically they are predominantly blue collar and religiously they are so fundamental that First Baptist Church in Dallas joined in the fight to expel one of Oak Cliffs leading Baptist congregations, Beverly Hills, from the Dallas Baptist Association.

At Beverly Hills they speak in tongues.

In sedate “Dallas” Baptist Churches, such as First Baptist or Park Cities Baptist, they don’t.

Most east-of-the-river Dallasites have forgotten that but for a few votes Oak Cliff might have been looking down its nose at Dallas for the last 127 years.

In 1850 the independent settlements of Dallas, Oak Cliff, and Cedar Springs vied for the official seat of Dallas County.

Dallas received 181 votes, Oak Cliff 178 votes, while Cedar Springs (where Lemmon and the North Tollway now intersect) garnered 101 votes.

In the run-off election Dallas prevailed over Oak Cliff, 244 to 216.

To the victor went the spoils.

Dallas won the county courthouse and has been winning ever since, seizing practically all of the goodies for its side of the river, keeping Oak Cliff residents constantly looking north and east to Dallas.

It seems that most of the traffic crossing those half-dozen bridges which link Oak Cliff and Dallas is generated by Oak Cliff people commuting to Dallas instead of Dallas people visiting Oak Cliff.

The only place of community-wide interest in Oak Cliff is Marsalis Zoo, although once Burnett Field was there, just barely across the levee.

Even the spectators sat with their backs to Oak Cliff, staring over the outfield fence toward Dallas.

Practically everything else wound up in Dallas-east-of-the-Trinity.

Downtown is there, as is Fair Park, Love Field, SMU, White Rock Lake and nearly every major restaurant or entertainment spot worth noting.

Dallas also won the population race, which began on both sides of the river in the early 1840s.

For some reason growth on the Dallas side exceeded that in Oak Cliff both in quality and in quantity.

The most interesting development west of the Trinity occured in the 1850s when a group of several hundred Europeans, mostly French, founded a Utopian colony in what now is West Dallas.

It was named La Reunion, but collapsed within a few years.

Afterward many of the immigrant artisans crossed the river and settled in Dallas.

Local historian A.C. Greene credits the settlers of La Reunion with giving Dallas a cultural breadth it might not have acquired for decades without the Frenchmen’s influence.

Oak Cliff’s first ambitious development was laid out in the 1890s by T.L. Marsalis and J.S. Armstrong, the men who probably popularized the name “Oak Cliff.”

(For 50 years the area had been known as Hord’s Ridge, named for a local landowner.)

Marsalis and Armstrong split soon after the development opened.

Ultimately Marsalis failed in his Oak Cliff venture while Armstrong later succeeded with his sons-in-law in developing Highland Park.

Prestigious developments like Highland Park, University Park and Munger Place grew on North Dallas’ waxy blackland prairie while Oak Cliff struggled along on a beautifully hilly tern in across the Trinity, an obstacle which wasn’t permanertly spanned until the Houston Street Viaduct opened in 1912, forever linking Oak Cliff and Dallas.

Although other formerly independent cities such as East Dallas and West Dallas have merged smoothly into Dallas, Oak Cliff has not.

Even though Oak Cliff residents voted to join the City of Dallas in 1904, Oak Cliff still bears signs, both physical and spiritual, that it remain a city unto itself.

The basic cause of Oak Cliffs independence is the Trinity.

Although many areas of Oak Cliff are actually closer to downtown than are parts of North Dallas, Oak Cliff seems more distant because to get to them, you must cross the river an act which constantly reminds us that Oak Cliff is on the other side.

There’s another aspect of crossing the river that implies a dramatic change.

With the exception of R.L. Thornton Freeway and Corinth Street, every street flowing from Dallas west across the Trinity changes its name.

Houston becomes Zang, Commerce changes into Fort Worth Avenue, Continental into Singleton, Wycliff into Sylvan and Inwood into Hampton.

(Several of these actually cross into West Dallas, which is also west of the Trinity, and by some is mistakenly considered a part of Oak Cliff.)

Once you arrive in Oak Cliff more differences become apparent.

In the heart of Oak Ciff, there art streets named 8th Street, 10th Street and so on, a numbering system which implies that Oak Cliff really is a separate city.

Perhaps the biggest single image problem Oak Cliff fights is its location, wedged between West Dallas on the north, and South Dallas to the east.

West Dallas has never quite recovered from the days when many of its inhabitants lived in refrigerator crates and hovels.

Today it is burdened with the city’s infamous West Dallas housing projects.

For many years South Dallas was the section of town where the city’s blacks were bottled up.

When housing opened up in the Sixties and blacks’ earning power increased, thousands poured into East Oak Cliff from South Dallas, into a community of inexpensive frame houses.

The vast area east of South R.L. Thornton Freeway is now heavily black.

Not long ago blacks began moving west across Thornton Freeway.

Oak Cliff leaders groan when the racial situation is brought up, but nevertheless, it is the major question facing the future of the community.

Many Oak Cliff neighborhoods leaders have responded positively to the black immigration, displaying a determination to make racially mixed neighborhoods work, instead of resorting to the old patterns of white flight.

But not all of Oak Cliff leadership has adjusted so well.

One Oak Cliff bank has gone well out of its way to see that no blacks appear in photographs or film footage shot in the bank’s lobby, an unfortunate reaction considering that the prosperity of Oak Cliff’s banks depends upon the health and harmony of Oak Cliff as a community.

Bigotry exists in North Dallas as well as Oak Cliff, but North Dallas doesn’t yet have to adjust to black immigration.

Oak Cliff does.

As a whole, Oak Cliff residents find themselves in a lower economic bracket than most North Dallas residents.

The results are clear – Oak Cliff entertainment pales beside the offerings in North Dallas.

In Oak Cliff when someone says he is going to the country club, unmistakably that means one place – the Oak Cliff Country Club.

In North Dallas it could mean Brook Hollow, Dallas Country Club, Glen Lakes, Northwood, Spring Valley, Preston Trail, Bent Tree, Brookhaven, the Columbian or a handful of others which are close to North Dallas.

There are really three Oak Cliffs.

The first, east of R.L. Thornton, is black.

The second, west of R.L. Thornton, is blue collar.

The third, also west of Thornton, is middle and upper class white, a group of people that live in some of the most beautiful neighborhoods in Dallas.

The most stunning of these is the Kessler Park-Stevens Park area in north Oak Cliff, nudged up against the Dallas-Fort Worth Turnpike.

Many of the area’s homes are the equal of those in Highland Park, and often sell for half the price of a Highland Park home.

In Kessler Park, for instance, a two-bedroom, one-bath bungalow sells for approximately $22,000.

A similar home in Highland Park sells for at least $40,000 and sometimes as much as $65,000.

North Oak Cliff is also prettier than the Park Cities – the area is built on a series of cuestas – huge beds of rock protruding out of the ground at an angle, forming hills with gentle slopes on one side and steep cliffs on the other. Oak

Cliff’s other stunning neighborhood, Wynnewood Hills, surrounds the Oak Cliff Country Club.

One of the most peculiar aspects of Oak Cliff is its housing patterns.

Quite often by driving a single block a visitor can go from a strikingly beautiful neighborhood to a dumpy one.

There are few smooth transitions from glamorous to gauche.

This phenomenon has provided Oak Cliff with a brand of politics which makes the North Dallas political scene seem a bore.

With one hand Oak Cliff sends Rose Renfroe to city council, while with the other it dispatches Paul Ragsdale to Austin.

Renfroe and Ragsdale have about as much in common as George Wallace and Jesse Jackson.

This mixed bag of politicians arises from Oak Cliffs amazingly different neighborhoods, a marked contrast to North Dallas’ mile-after-mile of three and four-bedroom brick homes.

Draw the political lines any way you wish in North Dallas and there won’t be a dime’s worth of difference in who’s elected. In Oak Cliff, the lines have been drawn (many by Dan Weiser) to carve out constituencies of unique character.

Black Oak Cliff has Paul Ragsdale, Eddie Bernice Johnson, Lucy Patterson and Emmett Conrad.

The affluent areas of West Oak Cliff produced Bill Nicol, Chris Semos and Sarah Haskins.Unlike North Dallas, Oak Cliff is usually primed for a fight in the primary election.

North Dallas is solid Republican, and there’s little chance that the Republicans will pit two candidates of any contrast against each other.

In Oak Cliff, which is as Democratic as North Dallas is Republican, there are two wings of the party, making for some great fights in districts which have a reasonable balance between blacks and whites.

Normally blacks and liberal whites team up to take on the conservative whites – a coalition which has kept Oak Cliff State Senator Oscar Mauzy in office for years.

Already Oak Cliff is buzzing about the possibility of Representative Eddie Bernice Johnson’s taking on Senator Mauzy in 1978, so she can have a hand in the Congressional redistricting of 1981, perhaps carving out her own seat in Congress, much as Barbara Jordan did from the Texas Senate.

They also talk about the probability that Rose Renfroe will challenge County Commissioner Roy Orr in 1978, which could easily develop into the knock-down drag-out political fight of the decade.

What Oak Cliff needs as much as anything else is civic clout, the kind that comes with the managerial class which lives in North Dallas.

North Dallas gets things done because it knows how to get things done.

Part of the reason that the managerial class is absent from Oak Cliff is quite simple – most of the powerful corporations reside in downtown or North Dallas.

To be sure, there are some exceptions. Oak Cliff is home to Dixico, a very successful bread wrapper manufacturer, and to Vernon & James Smith Company, a construction firm which has had an enormous influence on Oak Cliff’s development.

But there are many businesses which sprang up in Oak Cliff, prospered there, then later moved their headquarters across the river into Dallas.

Among them are Republic National Life, First Texas Savings (Oak Cliff Savings & Loan), the Southland Corporation (7-Eleven) and Wyatt Cafeterias.

Oak Cliffs tenure in the Dallas mayor’s chair also underscores Oak Cliff’s shortage of influence.

Only two mayors have hailed from Oak Cliff.

They are the late George Sprague (1937-39) and Jimmy Temple (1947-49).

Today Temple lives in North Dallas, as does Sprague’s prominent son, Dr. Charles Sprague, president of the UT Health Science Center.

One of the most interesting studies of Oak Cliff was completed in 1963 by a local public opinion survey firm, Belden Associates.

Belden asked people all over Dallas what features they associated with Oak Cliff.

The two most commonly mentioned were that Oak Cliff was dry and that it was very religious.

These two images are very much entwined, dating back to 1956 when a group of Baptist ministers led a bitter fight to prohibit sale of alcoholic beverages in Oak Cliff.

They won, 17,000 to 15,000, in a campaign directed against a pack of sleazy bars, most of which fronted Davis Avenue.

Today Oak Cliff remains bone dry, as does practically all of Dallas, but Oak Cliff somehow retains a stigma because of its dryness.

Quite often the dry issue is given as the reason why Oak Cliff doesn’t have first class restaurants, which may betrue in part, but drinks are available at several Oak Cliff restaurant “private clubs.”

The situation isn’t that simple.

Oak Cliff lacks a strong contingent of young singles, young married couples and the affluent, which are the groups usually making up restaurant clientele.

The restaurant shortage is attributable to more than just a simple wet-dry issue; it is attributable to the absence from Oak Cliff of a certain lifestyle.

There is however, a resurgence of young people moving into the nicer areas of Oak Cliff, which might provide not only a livelier atmosphere, but also the basis of a new leadership class which might grow up in Oak Cliff and stay there.

Perhaps the most thorough analysis of why Oak Cliff remains such a well defined entity apart from the other two-thirds of Dallas was written in 1972 by Oak Cliff Chamber urban planner Jack Luby.

Luby pointed out that Oak Cliff in many ways has made a concerted effort to perpetuate its image as a separate city.

Luby opened the Dallas telephone book and found that 137 Oak Cliff organizations used “Oak Cliff in their names, while only 34 North Dallas organizations used “North Dallas” in their names.

He also pointed out that Oak Cliff has its own magazine, Oak Cliff, which is published by the Oak Cliff Chamber of Commerce, and its own newspaper, The Oak Cliff Tribune.

Today there is a second Oak Cliff newspaper, The Oak Cliff Press.

Luby noted that the Oak Cliff Chamber of Commerce, which is 57 years old, has done much to promote the idea of Oak Cliff as a separate entity.

He also observed a certain attitude among Oak Cliff residents, sort of a self-fulfilling prophecy that Oak Cliff would never secure any first class developments and that much of life is “too high class” for Oak Cliff.

What Oak Cliff needs to shatter that attitude, and indeed to wipe out its complex, is a major developer to produce a first class project for Oak Cliff.

Southwest Oak Cliff’s Red Bird Mall is a step in that direction.

What Oak Cliff now needs is a major development at its northern edge, preferably a major project on the west bank of the Trinity, which would blend nicely with the proposed Town Lake.

Town Lake, which could be formed by damming the Trinity just south of downtown, would smooth over the chasm which separates Dallas and Oak Cliff.

A major west bank development could spur redevelopment of all Northeast Oak Cliff.

If it included high-rise buildings, the development would complement the high-rise structures across the river in downtown Dallas.

No matter what happens, it is unlikely that Oak Cliff will ever fade into the background of Dallas.

It is too big, too old and too proud to bow to Dallas, the state’s second largest city.

Oak Cliff, after all, is Texas’ sixth largest city. Whoever heard of a city that size fading away?

[lightandwinged]

School pictures for 2022-2023!

I am thrilled that Sammy decided to go for the laser background. Didn’t even hesitate, as soon as he saw it was an option, he flat out told me, “I’m getting the lasers,” and that did my 90s kid heart good. His came later in the year because he was actually sick on the original picture day, but I love it.

With the twins, you can 100% tell that I bought their picture day outfits before we all sat down and chose backgrounds. Isaac wanted New York City because he is obsessed with Spider-Man, so he needed to be in front of “mine New York City,” and I accept this. Carrie chose pink flower blossoms because that is just how she do. I’m wholly pleased with their portraits and adding them to the roster of “look at my kids growing up.”

Also spring boarding off of this to talk briefly about school and sick days this year.

It’s all basically a lose-lose-lose-lose-lose situation.

If you’ve been watching the news, you’ve probably read about how kids are just all sick all the time this year and ending up in the hospital with RSV and pneumonia and the flu and Covid. Thankfully, we haven’t gotten any thing that particularly bad yet (I blame that Isaac got RSV every year until 2020 so we just know what to do immediately to keep it from settling in his lungs), but it’s a bit like Sammy’s first year at daycare with how often everyone is getting sick. The twins specifically--because their unmasked exposure to other kids has been very limited, they’re just getting every germ imaginable in a never ending cycle of boogers and coughs.

And on the one hand, yes, keep them home if they have any sort of congestion or cough, but this year, it’s to the point where doing that would mean basically pulling them out of school for the entire fall. We’ve been sending them with masks when their coughs get particularly severe, and even then, we have yet to experience a week this year where one kid wasn’t home sick several days. This week, it’s Carrie’s turn, at least partly because our kids tend to throw up when they get boogery and that’s where she is right now.

(well. Where she is right now is sleeping, which is how I know she’s feeling cruddy; she’ll be downstairs later, I’m sure, to revel in finally getting to watch TV without either of her brothers demanding that their show be the one everyone watches, which means today will be a solid 4-5 hours of Gabby’s Dollhouse)

And! And apparently a lot of parents have been dealing with calls from truant officers threatening CPS calls if they keep their kids home anymore, which is like... what? But all of these absences are apparently flagging families and nobody is going to get a doctor’s note for the cold that goes ‘round and ‘round, so parents end up sending their sick kids to school (I don’t mean just sniffly, I mean genuinely super sick), then those sick kids get sent home by the nurse but not before they’ve coughed or sneezed or touched things and gotten other kids sick.

There is legitimately no winning this year. If we all mask up, that’s awesome, but then eventually, masks do come off, and lmao at the idea of getting a healthy portion of the population to comply with mask mandates again (can you fucking imagine the bullshit drama that would cause?). Keeping kids home when they’re sick is also a great idea, but it means that kids are literally missing half the school year and then parents are getting threatened with CPS because their kids are missing school. It’s all an absolute fucking disaster.

You know what probably would have helped things? Improving school ventilation systems. You know what didn’t happen? Improving school ventilation systems.

Ugh. And I feel fairly confident that this is just for a year because it reminds me so much of Sammy’s first year of daycare, where he was sick literally all the time and had an ear infection every three weeks and I got in so much trouble at work over it, so I’m hopeful that next year won’t be like this, but UGH in the meantime.

[spearcast]

i have a very VERY self indulgent original superpowers/superhero universe where the story is based around a majority of superpowered individuals being marginalized and over-policed and so on and so forth and a big theme of reconnecting as a community and coming against / dismantling both the government and a corrupt monopoly that takes charge of a lot of supes (the same way the us military takes advantage of marginalized individuals be they poor, poc, so and so forth). LONG STORY SHORT lots of fun themes and shit all floating around in the brain but sometimes you just need a very op self inserted main character and that is what hotspot is for me

i have. a lot of logistics and worldbuilding i want to at least put out into the universe under a read more but the TLDR of it is that hotspot is far too powerful for the govt and the organization (called CONQUEST) to really threaten and they soon begin to realize that hotspot is onto their shady goings-on and has to navigate the way to take them down (with the help of friends!! found family!! superpowered peoples reconnecting after forcibly being kept apart!!) without. like. tearing the planet in half bc they could if they put their mind to it. SDFHKSHDFS

essentially at a certain point in this universe people began being born with superpowers- it started off as a few at a time (which is where a lot of mythological heroes and characters in general are believed to have stemmed from, superpowered individuals born in ancient times) and by the time of 'present', there's a substantial portion of the population that have super-abled abilities. in the "80s" and "90s" (idk if i'm lining up this universe's time period with ours or not so 80s /90s are just concepts here SDHFKS) there came a lot of government regulation that was meant to keep superpowered people from becoming too powerful- or in their words "too dangerous" toward normal folk- and one of the major legislations was that heroes couldn't team up unless the team-ups were sanctioned by the national and international governments they were associated with. this also saw the birth of CONQUEST- an organization led by a woman named rebecca fowler and her husband meant to mentor and guide young supers into being helpful members of the community. behind this exterior, CONQUEST was really a world-power-funded military/weapon building corporation that actively took advantage of the supes they took under their wing. the alternative was to be an independent supe- "indie heroes" were governed solely by the mentor that chose them and a team of representatives and often had to do dealings with the government directly as opposed to following an organization's lead.

these were really the only two plausible options for anyone who had superpowers. anyone else was deemed a vigilante or danger to society and were either locked up for good in "defective supe" centers OR they were exterminated.

as was what happened with some supes, horizon renna was not born with their abilities. they began to develop when they were around seven or eight- and unfortunately for them, they were both blessed and cursed with terrifyingly apocalyptic abilities, and ended up destroying a section of their state when their powers emerged. thankfully they and their parents had been on vacation, in the middle of a state park when it happened- but the tumultuous volcanic and literally earth-shattering abilities they possessed were incredibly dangerous for a child with unstable emotions. there was much talk of just ending their life, because a small dose of being overwhelmed was all that led to a forest being turned to ash and molten rock, but a mentor stepped forward soon after- mililani kane aka ka wahine ‘ai honua (dubbed pele by the media), a renowned independent hero from hawai'i who at that time was in her mid 40s, saw much of herself in the child. while she didn't possess the massive destructive power that horizon did, she knew that she could use her knowledge of the extent of her own abilities to guide horizon to be able to control themself and their abilities. it was with mililani's help that horizon eventually grew to be one of the most powerful heroes, and most powerful supes across the board, in the world. it truly infuriates both rebecca fowler- who still heads CONQUEST in the present- and the united states government, considering they could've been brought into CONQUEST and be more easily manipulated.

essentially the LVL 0 rating that horizon has is due to how they categorize power levels within the universe (and i went numeral instead of the greek alphabet ranking that like. marvel uses SDFKHS):

6; least powerful, considered standard human base

5; first divergence from humanity

4; second divergence from humanity

3; power levels begin to become exponential; level 3 supers hold most of the high-level physical ability supers, like super strength and elemental abilities.

2; transition from physical abilities like elemental abilities and strength-based abilities to lower level psychic and metaphysical abilities

1; second most powerful, even more exponential than level 2, going from generic "looking at someone and reading their mind" to a more vast "can read and alter the minds of a room full of people"

0; the most powerful based upon what they could feasibly do with their already proven strong abilities. Hotspot is a level 0 super because she has the ability to connect deep within the earth and could ultimately destroy it on a whim if she so chose to. This has been proven by her holding back eruptions and earthquakes for even short periods of time. There are only a few physical-ability Level 0 supers like Hotspot, most are metaphysical supers.

there are also subcategories that they use to try to organize supes even more, like "celestial" being focused on star/space abilities, "substance" being focused on gravity/density abilities, "transmission" being focused on voice/sound abilities, "electronic" being focused on electronic/electric abilities, "psi" being focused on psychic/psionic/quantum abilities, and "vitality" being focused on life/death/youth/etc abilities. but. YEAH

originally from hotspot's pov it starts out as CONQUEST bad and indie good, but as the story progresses and they're forced to navigate the intricacies and politics of the supe world they come to realize while CONQUEST is a horrible company not all of the people within it really had much of a choice and then as some supes begin to go missing without much noise being made about it, along with the shadier sides of the organization and the government at large coming to light, they have some choices to make. i think it's fun and a lot of the characters surrounding horizon are either super self indulgent ocs or based on people from my life so AHSKDFHS yeeeee i had more but i think that's enough rambling for the moment

EDIT: OKOKOK WAIT i wanna give some hotspot-specific fun facts to end the rambling

they've learned there are many subcategories to their own abilities- they rarely get cold, their core is believed to be ABLE to reach the same temp as the core of the planet tho it would pretty much destroy their physical form as well as anyone around them so they don't ever try it- this also resulting in them being pleasantly warm to the touch at all times, though sometimes they can be searing in the middle of battle

most materials made of rock and mineral can be manipulated by them. glass? they can melt it and turn it into sand, or vise versa. gravel? can be turned to asphalt or tar or even solid rock. they can change rock to different parts of the rock cycle, especially after making it molten and melty. they can also pick up ANY rock and after a moment can tell you exactly what kind of rock/mineral it is. they have a lot of geologist friends SDFHKHSF

processing and melting plastic makes them feel sick in the same way that overexerting themselves without much to replace their energy makes them tired and go hibernal for some time. they've gotten to the point of having more stamina that staves off that hibernal period, but it still hits them now and then.

because of metal and magnetism having a connection, they can shift the rocks on their arms into magnetic rock and thusly can tell where true north is the same way a compass can. if dropped in the middle of wilderness they can make their way back to civilization because they are their own compass in that sense SKDFHSHDF

their body, while technically flesh like any other person, can be manipulated into a plasma-like state that mimics semi-solid lava and magma. this means wounds that harm them can be healed fairly easily by shifting from their human form to the lava form and just closing up the wound or whatever needs to be done- and this, as is learned later on in the story, means they can regenerate limbs, and ultimately, their entire self no matter how destroyed their body is.

[maxineswritingcenter]

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 4

I’m really chugging these out. Mostly because its practically written already. But I will let you know that in the original, I did write in “blue orbs” so you can assume how much I had to fix. 

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

“Um, hi.” I said, very surprised and confused that he was here. 

“We need to talk.” 

“As you mentioned. But we can’t talk here, you are a suspect in a crime and this is the sheriff’s house.” I crossed my arms over my chest. 

“Then can I get my jacket back, since you don’t want to be associated with a criminal.” This was the first time he had shown any sort of emotion besides seriousness. Granted, it was condescending. 

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to be associated with you.” I handed him his jacket, a little sad to see it go, “You saved my life, I just don’t want you to get in trouble.” 

“A little late for that.” He said, putting his jacket on. 

“What’s going on?” I asked, stepping closer to him. He looked at me warily (as if he needed to be wary of me) but didn’t move away. 

“You wouldn’t understand.” Usually, I would reply ‘then make me understand’, but I was still on the fence about him. He perked up a bit, like he was hearing something. 

“Here.” He held out his closed hand, I held mine out and he dropped my locket into my hands. I gasped, reaching up to my neck and realized it wasn’t there. I looked down at the locket.

“Oh my god, thank you. I would have never forgiven myself if I lost-” I looked up and realized I was talking to no one, “And you disappeared. Okay.” My phone beeped in my pocket and saw a text from Stiles move across the screen.

“Scott woke up in the woods and ran into a swimming pool this morning.” I read aloud. This town was starting to just become weirder and weirder. It was a nice distraction from my own personal life, but now it was getting borderline concerning. 

- 

At practice, Stiles filled in Scott and I on what he had heard over the police radio. The body, or half of the body, had been sent into the LA coroner’s office where the lad had found animal hair, specifically wolf hair. Scott wasn’t paying too much attention though, he looked like he was in his own little world. 

It was the first scrimmage game of the year and Coach was pretty excited, which wasn’t his usual tune. As the game started, I watched Scott pull off the craziest moves I had ever seen attempted on the field. He was moving so incredibly fast and he even flipped over someone and scored a goal at the same time! Finstock looked like his head was about to explode, which meant that he was happy. Or at least I think so. In a time out, he waved Scott over. 

“What in god’s name was that? This is a lacrosse field. You wanna try out for some gymnastics team?” 

“No, Coach.” Scott said. What I found weird was that his breathing was that of someone who had normal lungs and never had a breathing problem in his life. That just gave me a weird feeling, something that would stick with me for the rest of the night. 

“What the hell was that?” Coach asked, motioning to the field. 

“I-I don’t know. I guess trying to make the shot.” 

“Yeah, well, you made the shot. And guess what? You’re startin’, buddy.” Coach smiled, slapping a shocked Scott’s shoulder, “You made first line.” 

 Scott grinned looking between Finstock and me. I put on a smile. I was happy for Scott, but there was too much weird going on. 

-

I managed to beat Stiles home, even though he was driving like a maniac. I grabbed his arm as he walked up the driveway, “What is going on?” He shook my arm off.

“Leave me alone.” He grumbled, stomping through the house, up to his room and slamming the door shut. It was times like this that knowing Stiles well came in handy. He was pissed. And talking to him about it had a ten percent chance of working. They had put him in therapy when his mom died and the therapist told Uncle Noah that when Stiles was mad, it would be better to let him cool off on his own. 

Scott was at the door soon after, after letting him in, I patted his shoulder, “Good luck.” I could hear the arguing from my room, but the words were muffled by insulation. Things used to be so normal before, but it seems like the fires in this town caused unnatural things to occur. 

Maybe it was time I asked Derek some weird questions. Was this a good idea? Absolutely not. Regardless, I needed answers.

As I drove the dark back roads to get to the Hale house, I noticed that the moon was full. I hummed absentmindedly to my music and argued with myself on whether or not this was a good idea. It probably wasn’t.

-

I debated on whether or not to knock. The door was already halfway open and the whole back of the house was practically missing. I opted to knock. 

“Derek?” I called, after stepping inside, “Derek, it’s (Y/N). We need to talk. There are a lot of weird things going on and I need answers.” I turned and when I saw Derek standing right behind me, I thought my heart almost stopped. 

“Jesus, you gotta stop doing that.” I sighed in relief.

“What are you doing here?” That seemed to be his favorite question to ask, “Didn’t your parents tell you not to go out on full moons?” Oddly specific. But it was true, my parents never let me go out on a full moon. And when I was younger they would drop me off at Uncle Noah’s house, they called it a date night. 

“Actually, yes. How did you know that?” I narrowed my eyes at him. 

“You need to go home. Now.” He turned me around, pushing me towards the door. 

“Hey hey hey, no no no.” I dug my heels into the floor, “I came here to talk to you. Something weird is going on and it involves you. I know it does.”  

“You could not have come at a worse time.” He grumbled. 

“Listen here, Hale, I came here for answers and I intend to get them so I’m not going anywhere until-” I was cut off by Derek throwing me over his shoulder and hurriedly taking me outside. I pounded his back with my hands and kicked my legs. But he was too strong for me to move.

“Put me down! Derek!” He growled and set me back on my feet in front of my car door. He slammed his hands on the car, caging me between the door and his body. He was so warm, actually radiating heat. I tried to fight the blush that was creeping on my cheeks. 

“Why are you so stubborn?” He raised his eyebrows. He was so close and his actions made me speechless, “And why aren’t you scared of me? If you were smart you would go out of your way to avoid me like everyone else.” I finally found my voice. 

“Well, clearly I’m not like everyone else. I can see that something fishy is going on. Scott is practically bouncing off the walls all after being attacked by something in the woods. And you were talking about something in the woods so that means you know what it is, so tell me!” I shouted the last bit. Our eyes locked. It was hard not to look away, his stare was so intense. 

He sighed, “Fine.” He backed away, the cool night bringing a chill back after being so close to him. 

“Meet me in the woods by your house tomorrow. I’ll answer your questions.” 

“All of my questions?” I asked, a small tremble in my voice. 

“Don’t push it.” He looked around, clenching and unclenching his hands, “Now go home.” And I did, I got in my car and left. I was going to get my answers. 

-

“Arrested?!” I shouted in disbelief. I’m sure Uncle Noah took the phone from his ear.  

“We had to take him in. That body in the woods was his sister, Laura.” He said. Laura Hale was a name I vaguely recognized, but I never met her before. 

“We aren’t convicting him, but he’s already a suspect in his family’s deaths and now that we found his sister, he doesn’t look entirely innocent.”

“Derek wouldn’t hurt anybody.” 

“(Y/N), you don’t know that.” 

“He didn’t hurt me. He brought me to the hospital.” 

“And that is one of the reasons why I am giving him the benefit of the doubt.” He said, then sighed, “Look, we don’t have anything to hold him over night. We’re just getting his statement and then he’s free to go. As long as he doesn’t leave the area. Now I gotta go, I’ll see you at home.” 

“Okay, see you later.” I hung up the phone and fell back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. Derek couldn’t have killed his sister. Especially cutting her in half. Or at least, that’s what I hoped. It scared me though, to think that Derek could be capable of that. But, no, he couldn’t be. He was the victim of happenstance. I think. But Laura had been out there a while, so the possibility of Michael was high. By running was he trying to frame Derek? 

They found wolf fur on Laura’s body and while it doesn’t explain who killed it did say something about the area. It seems like the wolf population is coming back. They could have come from somewhere else in search of food or maybe the national wildlife service moved them in to control the deer population. I feel like everyone would have heard about that though, at least an email or something. 

-

After dinner, I decided to go into the woods to see if Derek would actually meet up with me. I told Stiles that I was going on a walk to clear my head. A few minutes into the woods, I decided to wait instead on a boulder in a clearing near the creek. I had only been there maybe ten minutes when I heard the footsteps approaching. I smiled and stood. 

“Now is it that hard to make your presence known?” I turned and stared, but the person I was looking at was not Derek. It was Michael. 

He smiled, tilting his head to the side, “Hey, sweetheart. Miss me?” 

“Stay away from me.” My body started to tremble, “Stay back!” I backed up, keeping my eyes on him but cursed myself when my back hit a tree. Michael closed the gap between us, leaning closer. I turned my head away, listening to him sniff my hair. 

“You smell so good.” He hummed. 

“Get away from me.” Tears made their way down my cheeks. 

“C’mon. Just relax.” He placed his hands on either side of my face. 

“No, NO!” I screamed, and shoved him. He fell back a few feet, looking surprised at my strength. I looked down at my hands, then him. He was pissed.

“Alright, enough fooling around.” He got up and I started running. I didn’t get too far, Michael had always been fast. I heard him stumble, but he grabbed my foot, bringing me down to the ground. 

“HELP!” I screamed, “SOMEBODY!” 

“Nah, not this time.” he dragged me up from the ground, wrapping his arms around my body and beginning to drag me towards the creek. I struggled, thrashing my torso and legs. 

“HELP! DEREK!” I shouted, hoping that he was nearby, coming to meet with me like he said he would. Michael turned me in his arms, gripping tight. 

“Derek Hale? You shacking up with that freak?!” He shook me. 

“Michael, please, please, let me go, please.” I begged, my pleads were met with a sharp slap with the back of his hand. I yelped. 

“HELP!” I cried again. 

“Shut up! I said shut up-” A  loud roar cut him off, his grip loosening. It sounded like a bear, but when I looked to the source, my heart started to pound more than it already was. 

It was Derek, but he wasn’t entirely himself, not human. His eyes were a bright, glowing blue, his face was different. His brow bone was more pronounced. His hair grew down the sides of his face. his ears were pointed. He had large sharp fangs on his canines. He had claws on his hands. 

Derek leapt from the hill that he stood on, landing on all fours and letting out another hellish roar. He came towards us, Michael shoved me towards Derek, starting to run the other way. But Derek maneuvered around me, chasing after him. The chase went down a hill, towards the creek. What I heard next was Michael’s screaming and then a heavy sounding thud. I stood there for a while, still trying to process what the hell was happening. What is he?

My eyes shot back up to the hill, Derek was walking upright, his face and hands back to normal. I stayed in my spot, waiting for him to come up to me. He stopped, he was breathing heavily through his nose. I looked over at him, he was splattered with blood. I grabbed his hand, seeing normal fingernails and hands. My eyes then went to his face, I touched his cheeks. No more hair growing down. His eyes were back to their normal green. Derek slowly took my hands in his, bringing them back down to my sides. 

“What-What are you?” I whispered, not trusting my voice.

He looked at me for a moment before answering, “I’m a werewolf.” I left out a deep breath. Letting his words settle into my mind. 

“Are you okay?” He asked softly. I could only nod, still speechless. He softly brushed his fingers over my cheek where Michael hit me, I winced. It was already starting to feel sore. 

“Are you scared now?” He asked. I should be. I should be running for the hills. It was insanity to even believe in werewolves and yet, here one stood in front of me. 

I shook my head, “No. I do have questions though. Um, you answered one of them.” I ran a hand through my hair. He nodded, placing his hand softly on my lower back. 

“Let’s get you home.” We started walking, but I stopped us. 

“Wait, no, we can’t go there. I can’t bring you to my house. My uncle could be there and when he sees you covered in blood, he will arrest you.” I thought for a moment, “Dammit.” I had to think of something, something to protect him. Whether he saved me or not, he still killed Michael and that was still murder. 

“I got it.” I said, “Can you climb well?”

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

Read part 5 here!

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are appreciated!

Thanks so much for reading and the next part should be out soon :)

YSM Taglist

@nyotamalfoy

@fruitloopzzz

[wishingicouldfly]

I've been actively blogging for more than six months, even though I've had a tumblr account for ten years. I started reading One Direction (specifically Larry) fanfiction about the same time.

Originally, I read exclusively canon compliant fiction--I was hungry for industry insider, what-could-have-happened narratives. But I've slowly branched out into other genres. I find fanfic--good fanfic--super calming. When I've had too much stunting, too much noise, I grab a fanfic and immerse myself. So I thought it was time to do a post about my favorites. Keep in mind, I'm terrible at cataloging, and I have over 150 bookmarks on my A03 Account, so this is by no means an exhaustive list.

I'm not including the classics like Tired, Tired Sea and Escapade. While I do love both of those (so well written), because a lot of people know about those already.

My all time favorites are by @helloamhere

1. The Multipicity of Powers - https://archiveofourown.org/works/28580229

Maybe in another universe he isn’t different. Maybe he hadn’t been given an impossible choice. Maybe he wouldn’t have lost everything and broken everything and then fallen impossibly, irrevocably in love with the first next thing that was kind. Maybe in that universe he doesn’t feel like he’s never breathing, always pretending, teaching the kids even though they all have to learn alone, trying hard not to read the headlines, and so afraid, every day, that he won’t be a good enough teammate to the superhero he can’t live without. He knows that love isn’t supposed to feel this way, slid secret under your skin like a surgical razor, an invisible war held close over the tender vein that keeps you alive. On the other hand, Louis wonders, had he ever known how to do it any other way?

Maybe there’s a universe where he doesn’t have to keep all his secrets on the inside.

But this isn’t that universe.

//an X-Men AU.

Me: I never thought I'd love a super hero 1D cross over, but this is so well done. The backstory, the pacing, the characterization, the friendship. Read it.

2. Saving Symphony Hall and it's prequel Night Out - https://archiveofourown.org/works/12633921

“I think I have an idea,” Louis said. Slowly, and reluctantly, but with a growing sense of the inevitable. “God damnit, I think I have a really good idea.”

“Oh christ, that's the problem-solving face,” Babs said. “Last time we saw that face, he sold a company.”

“Wait, what?” Zayn asked.

“Right place, right time,” Louis said. “Also, fuck my life,”

“What?” Zayn repeated. Niall patted his hand.

“I usually just roll with whatever Louis is about to do,” he said. “It’s better for us all.”

“That’s the attitude,” said Louis, “I’ll tell you tomorrow. Tonight, I need to do some research. Zayn, give me your number. I’m gonna save our symphony.”

Me: The best sex scene I've ever read is in the prequel Night Out. Sexy, but tender. I love the characterizations in this duo--ABO but not traditional. Doesn't feel out of character.

3. Just Let Me -https://archiveofourown.org/works/11695350

The party was going well. So well, Niall had already sworn undying love to one multi-tiered chocolate cake, two friendly corgi-poodle mixes, Zayn’s hair, and the entire population of Los Angeles. So well, Zayn had only laughed and ruffled Niall’s hair and not even twitched towards a cigarette. So well, nearly everyone had spilled far past the boundaries of the night’s original plans, extracting bottles of vodka from the cabinets and losing a lot of clothes. Harry had proclaimed that he was finally going to throw a small and very grownup dinner party and of course here they were three hours later, fifty people half-naked in the pool. Soon to be full-naked, if Louis had to guess. Everybody in LA loved a heated pool. Everybody loved Harry.

Me: I love love love this. Harry is so gentle, and Louis is so stubborn and needy. It's ABO but subtle. I'll read this one again and again. It's comforting.

@HelloAmHere is one of the best writers I know--amazing stuff. I also love their werewolf story, but it's not finished, so I won't link it here.

Other favorites:

1. Seven Up by cherrystreet - https://archiveofourown.org/works/5828539

Very loosely based on the British TV show "The Up Series" and somewhat inspired by the song “Something I Need” by Onerepublic, we follow the lives of Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson in an interview setting every seven years. They fall apart and come together, their lives and emotions recorded. Harry calls it a time capsule. Louis calls it a pain in the arse.

Me: Trigger Warning, major character death. I literally SOBBED through the end of this. It was lovely and devastating. So good. But be warned.

2. Light, Spark and Fire series by @greenfeelings

Life’s pretty ordinary for Harry. He lives with his best friend, got into university just like he’s planned, and manages to support himself just fine for an unbonded omega. If he sustains that lifestyle by getting paid to help alphas through their rut every now and then, that’s nothing to be hung up on. Until he’s hired by an alpha that turns everything upside down.

Or, Louis and Zayn run a music label, Liam is Britain’s up-and-coming pop star, Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down until he builds his own up, and Niall holds them all together without realising he does.

Me: A nice healthy three-parter. Characters you just want to live with for a while.

3. Relief Next to Me by dolce_piccante - https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117942

AU. What happens when a baker and a graphic designer meet via a very specific Craigslist post? Fate, friendship, food, and maybe more.

Me: This one is super long, so be prepared when you dive in. It's got a lot of lovely bits, and some great smut.

4. 2012 'Verse by ashavahishta - https://archiveofourown.org/series/27601

Me: This is a five-parter and satisfies my love of canon compliant stories. It spans most of 2012 and into 2013, and illustrates the difficulties of Harry and Louis' relationship amid the band success and management disapproval.

5. Love After the End of the World by mercurial-madhouse (writing_practice) - https://archiveofourown.org/works/31251434/chapters/77248901

Society shattered when all electricity suddenly cut off across the globe, plunging the world into darkness. Now, Prometheus Industries is the sole remaining supply of power, a saving grace to those who survived Lights Out. As fugitives in no-man’s land struggling to break into Prometheus HQ, death lurks around every corner for Louis and Zayn. Things get complicated when a routine recon falls apart and Louis collides with Harry and his mates Niall and Liam, survivors with their own agenda.

When staying alive is already a constant battle, the deadliest weakness is to be in love. For Harry and Louis, finding each other sits on top of the endless list of What Else Could Go Wrong.

Me: Really unusual (as far as I can tell) end of the world story. I loved the characterizations of soul mates here at the end of the world.

6. Flightless Bird by audreyhheart - https://archiveofourown.org/works/6401653/chapters/14656807

AU where Louis Tomlinson is a principal dancer with The Royal Ballet. When his rival from ballet school, moody dance prodigy Harry Styles joins the company, old wounds are reopened and old passions reignited. During the company's production of Swan Lake the secret that doomed their love is finally revealed, but will it be too late?

Me: Trigger Warning, sexual assault (by an original character to a major character). This was a little brutal because I hated to see a broken Harry, but it was well written and has a happy ending.

7. Wear It Like A Crown by zarah5 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/1816771/chapters/3900322

AU. As part of a team of fixers hired to handle a gay scandal in Buckingham Palace, Louis expects Prince Harry to be a lot of things—most notably a royally spoilt brat. Never mind that the very same Prince Harry used to star in quite a number of Louis' teenage fantasies.

Me: I loved Louis in this one--actually they are both pretty great. Scratch that, they are ALL pretty great.

8. Shake Me Down by AGreatPerhaps12 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/3331958/chapters/7285322

Harry's new to college, fresh out of Catholic school and conversion therapy camp, and Louis runs the campus LGBTQIA organization.

Me: I don't like the self-hate here, but it was necessary for the story and H comes around. Found family vibe.

9. Gods & Monsters by Velvetoscar - https://archiveofourown.org/works/2090982/chapters/4550871

The instructions were simple: seduce and destroy Harry Styles. Not once did they discuss the option of Louis actually falling in love. So, naturally, that's exactly what he did.

Me: I loved Harry in this one. Louis gets there. I don't like Liam, but I don't think you're supposed to. Zayn is great.

10. Own the Scars by crinkle-eyed-boo (KimmieRocks) - https://archiveofourown.org/series/1010796

Louis has never felt like he was good enough: for his stepdad, for his life-long best friend, for the life he's supposed to want. After an accident that nearly costs him his life, Louis' parents send him to rehab where he’s forced to face his demons. On the long and difficult road to recovery, Louis must confront the truths he’s been avoiding about his future, his relationships, and his sense of self-worth. Because before he can love anyone else, he’s got to learn how to love himself first.

Me: Harry is lovely in this one. Trigger warning, substance abuse and near death.

11. Wild Love by purpledaisy - https://archiveofourown.org/series/1030904

AU: Two best friends try to date each other for forty days. It's supposed to be fun until emotions make it complicated.

Me: I loved this way more than I thought I would. It's lovely and messy and I love it.

12. Victorian Boy by audreyhheart - https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosann1986/readings?page=6

Victorian AU. Harry the virgin Duke of Somerset knows little of love, while Louis the sly Duke of Warwick knows too much. When the two dukes come together for the Bilsdale fox hunt in York, Harry finds himself drawn into Louis' bed. But when secrets from Louis' dark past come to light, Harry fears that the fox isn't the only one being hunted.

Me: Historical fiction I didn't intend to love. I LOVE Harry in this one. LOTS of smut, so be warned.

13. Keep Me Closer by zanni_scaramouche - https://archiveofourown.org/works/30752633

Louis expects Harry to react poorly, maybe even file a formal complaint and that’s gonna suck ass but Louis won’t say shit cause he knows he deserves it, so he prepares an apology before Harry’s even turned around.

What he doesn’t expect is Harry to fucking drop.

Me: lovely, protective Louis just trying to do the right thing.

14. Turning Page by purpledaisy for SockstheDog

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11826345

AU: Harry Styles tries to get lost in a place he’s never been.  Louis Tomlinson has been perfecting the art of being lost for years. What they don’t expect to find is each other.

Me: sweet love story. Niall owns a bar, and is pretty great.

15. Freedom Always Comes With a Price by Cyantific - https://archiveofourown.org/works/30278514/chapters/74624262

A shared dream brings them together onto the X-factor stage, but one decision changes Harry and Louis’ lives overnight. Thrust into a world of instant stardom, they're forced to live a lie to sustain their dreams, but years of living in the shadows and under strict management takes its toll.

With the bands impending hiatus, there’s no better time for change, so they think.

Desperate for a solution, they turn to an unlikely source with a radical plan. An unfortunate accident sets everything in motion, but not how they intended, leaving Louis’ memories altered, Harry broken-hearted and full of regret.

Can Harry figure out a way to fix everything? Will he even want to once he sees how Louis moved on after the hiatus? Will Louis ever find out the truth of their past and can he forgive Harry after all this time?

In the end, two friends find out that memories are elusive, trust is everything and love is the only antidote.

Me: Heartbreaking when they lose each other, but really good in the end.

16. Little Technicolor Things by scary_crow - https://archiveofourown.org/works/6025519/chapters/13821628

Louis is a poor writer and recent university graduate, depressed, anxious, and living in London when he meets Harry, an artist with a secret who likes to paint sunrises and pretty boys from California.

17. Hold You Now by solvetheminourdreams - https://archiveofourown.org/works/30253536/chapters/74556744

Three years ago, Harry Styles said goodbye to communications consultancy firm McQuiston Worldwide, leaving a life of travel and agency PR behind. When he accompanies his best friend to a family wedding across the Atlantic, he'll be forced to reopen old wounds and face his past—one that no one wants to hash out, but may just have to.

Me: Niall is great. They almost miss each other in this one, and you just want to bash them over the head. But they figure it out.

18. At Risk, I Fold by clare328 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/26542480

2015 is a stream of hotel rooms and whisky on the rocks, tired glances and touching hands under tables. It’s the bears and the bees under a rainbow sky, and Harry and Louis have to figure out how to grow up together, instead of apart.

Me: A canon compliant fic that feels like it could have really happened. Set in 2015. Lovely first chapter and scene where Harry writes If I Could Fly--i could read that chapter over and over.

19. Into The Blue by zarah5 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/1035822/chapters/2065499

AU. In which Louis is Harry's scuba instructor and quite happy to provide the requested special treatment, pun fully intended. It can't be all that difficult to convince Harry that they're on the same page, right? Also, Niall and Liam may or may not be dating, and Zayn is surrounded by emotionally stunted idiots. He bears it with dignity.

Me: AKA the Scuba fic.

20. Tie Your Heart by ArcadianMaggie - https://archiveofourown.org/works/546688/chapters/973236

Harry grows wings.

Me: How can you not love a fic where Harry grows wings? Trigger warning: injury of a major character.

21. I think I'll end this here. My last and probably first favorite (read it more than once) is...

my heart is breathing for this moment in time by usedtothebeach - https://archiveofourown.org/works/934996/chapters/1820282

When Louis first saw Harry at the 2010 X Factor Auditions, he thought he was watching a peculiarly special stranger. But Harry has known Louis ever since he was five years old.

Because Louis has a rare genetic disorder that causes him to Time Travel to important moments in his past and in his future - and to Harry, always to Harry. When they're put into a band together, it seems like everything Harry has been waiting and wishing for has finally come true. Except for the small fact that Louis doesn't know that Harry is in love with him- that Harry's always been in love with him. Fate, it would seem, is just getting started.

A story about growing up and growing together, and the impossible love that makes it all worthwhile.

Me: I LOVED the Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger, and I'm a huge fan of time travel, so this is right up my alley. It's really well done, weaving canon into fantasy and then going years forward in tme. I love everything about it. Great character development. Really good smut. Trigger warning, there's a little underage sex, so be aware. Anyway, LOVE this one so much.

I'll add to this but it's already longer than I meant it to be.

[voiceless-terror]

Smile and Nod (The Magnus Archives)

Whumptober 2020 Day Six: “Stop, please”

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Characters: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Sasha James, Tim Stoker, Elias Bouchard, Original Character

CW: Harassment, Unwanted Advances

Summary: 

“He said to let go of him.” The voice startles them both and Jon turns to see Martin, a placid smile on his face. He is tall, so tall- was Martin always this tall?

Jon runs into trouble at the Institute’s annual donor party and has an unlikely rescuer. 

The Institute hosted a party for its most illustrious donors every spring. Jon had never been expected to go to it until his promotion to Head Archivist and even then he tried to get it out of it, to no avail.

“I’m afraid it’s part of your duties now as Head Archivist,” Elias had said. “We need to have a face for every department and I’m sure quite a few of our donors are anxious to meet Gertrude’s replacement. You understand, of course.” Jon nodded. “I trust you’ll be on your best behavior.” He hadn’t forgotten his promise to ‘be more lovely’ after the incident with Naomi Herne. 

“Yes, yes,” Jon sighed. He wasn’t looking forward to the event- sticking close to Elias’s side didn’t seem very appealing, but being left to the wolves was even worse. Elias seemed to notice his hesitation and paused, waiting for Jon to continue. Perhaps he didn’t have to go alone. It’s worth a try, isn’t it?

“W-Would it,” he began, cursing his stutter. “That is, I would like to- if you don’t mind, I think it would be valuable to have my assistants attend, as well?” He hated the uptick in his voice that made it sound more like a question. “I-I just think it would be a good experience for them to ah, meet the donors as well. Since they do a lot of the research.” Another reminder that he had no idea what he was doing; Elias hadn’t said anything about his methods in the Archives, so he only hoped that indicated a tacit agreement about the way things should be run. 

Jon watched several emotions flit across the man’s face, irritation and disappointment giving way to resignation. He tried to ignore the first two and focus on the last. “Alright,” Elias agreed with a sigh. “Please stress the formality of this event, particularly to Mr. Blackwood. You’ll be representing the Institute, and as such you will be expected to interact with our donors. See that you don’t use your assistants as a social crutch.” Damn. There goes his plan. At least I’ll have some support. 

So here he was, standing in the hallway with his assistants in an ill-fitting suit he last wore to the funeral of a distant cousin. It didn’t fit then, either. He hoped he didn’t look too much like a child in his father’s clothes, but the snickers from Tim and Sasha dashed any hope of that. They looked wonderful, of course, as they always did. Martin was in the same boat as Jon, fidgeting in a blazer and non-matching pants.

“Well boss, looks like it’s time to schmooze!” Tim clapped a hand on his shoulder and steered him through the door. Elias liked to have his parties in the main library- it was the most beautiful part of the Institute, aside from the entrance hall. The tables and desks that normally populated the center of the room had been cleared away to reveal a rather spacious area for guests to mingle and talk over the sound of a tasteful string quartet. The whole event was incredibly elegant and Jon felt like he very much did not belong.

“Ah, there he is!” He heard Elias call from the right-hand corner of the room, where he was surrounded by several well-to-do donors dressed to the nines. He gestured him over with a magnanimous hand and Jon instantly flushed. Tim squeezed his shoulder and pushed him in their general direction. “This is our new Head Archivist, Jonathan Sims. He’s been doing fine work thus far.”

After a moment Tim’s hand is replaced by Elias’s, firm and weighty on his shoulder. He’s exchanging pleasantries with people whose names he forgets almost instantly- their hands are cold and their voices distant, they talk over him as if he were a child they judged and found wanting. Elias’s hand did not move and he was anchored in place, even as they made no move to include him in their conversation.

He saw Martin give him a look of pity from the corner that he was currently occupying with Sasha and Tim. They had their hands full of hors d'oeuvres and drinks and Jon wished desperately for a glass of water, anything to keep his hands occupied. He turned to realize the  conversation had stopped and his companions were staring at him expectantly. “I’m sorry?” he hazarded, wondering if he’d been addressed.

“Our son George,” the woman over-enunciated, her tone condescending. Jon remembered vaguely that she had some connection to the Fairchilds, though her name wasn’t familiar. “-is over by the bar. I think you’ll find his company a bit more interesting, hm?” The group tittered and Jon felt shame rise in his throat as his boss’s hand tightened on his shoulder.

“Yes Jon, why don’t you introduce yourself?” Elias said genially enough, though Jon can tell he had disappointed him once again. Jon nodded, excusing himself to go to the corner to get a much-needed drink and to embarrass himself further. There was a man roughly his age fiddling around on his phone with a bored expression. He was tall and handsome but in the soft way of the rich, cruel and cherubic in equal measure. It unnerved Jon and he summoned up a smile that felt more like a grimace.

“G-George?” he asked, willing his voice to steady. The man looked up, expression unchanged as his eyes bored into Jon’s. “I’m Jonathan Sims, the new Head Archivist-”

“Parents send you over?” he smirked and Jon felt the tension in his shoulders ease just a bit. “Sorry you had to deal with them. This your first time at one of these? Median age here is usually around seventy five, give or take.” He laughed and Jon smiled, the man’s candor a bit charming even to him. 

“Y-Yes, I’m not really sure I should be here,” he admitted as George slid a drink into his hand. He took a grateful sip and closed his eyes at it’s smooth burn- this was expensive liquor and Jon was going to savor every last bit.

“That makes two of us,” the man nudged him with his elbow and Jon started to think the night might not be as bad as he thought. He glanced quickly over to the other side of the room- Tim winked and gave him a thumbs-up (which he ignored) and Martin’s face was carefully blank. Jon did not know what to make of that.

George, it seemed, was not all that bad. He listened patiently when Jon went off on a rant about book-binding, nodding and smiling at all the right parts. In return, Jon let him talk about finance for longer than was polite (and God was it boring). They’ve now had two drinks and Jon is feeling much, much looser. The smiles are genuine and unforced. He watches Elias nod in approval out of the corner of his eye and feels his chest warm with pride. Not a complete disappointment, am I?

But George is getting closer. It was fine when they were awkwardly perched on opposite ends of the bar and needed to hear one another, but this was getting too cozy for Jon’s tastes. He tries to take a casual step backwards but stumbles. George’s hand goes to his elbow to help steady him and stays there. 

“I-I think I need to-” he starts to mumble an excuse but the man is not having it.

“What do you say we get out of here?” He whispers, coming in closer. Jon’s nerves reach a fever-pitch but he does not want to show it, doesn’t want to make a scene so he keeps the smile pasted on his face. “My apartment’s not that far-”

“O-Oh, I’m f-fine, thanks,” he says, trying to dislodge the man’s arm but it is no use- he is much stronger than he looks and has at least half a foot on him. “I actually have plans-”

“With who?” George asks pityingly as Jon tries desperately to meet anyone’s eyes, even Elias’s. He tries to convey his plea without making it obvious to any other bystanders but his boss’s eyes slide right over him. He knows he saw, he knows-

“That’s why they sent you over, right?” George continues, his mouth dangerously close to Jon’s neck as he leans into whisper in his ear. “Pretty thing like you, get me to open the cheque book-”

“Good Lord no, let me go-” at this Jon scoffs, horrified as he tries to yank his arm away.

“Don’t make a scene,” the man says in a low and calming voice, though the leer on his face is clear to see. Jon feels terribly small. “You don’t want to disappoint the boss, do you?”

“Please,” he begs, all out of words. “Stop, please-”

“He said to let go of him.” The voice startles them both and Jon turns to see Martin, a placid smile on his face. He is tall, so tall- was Martin always this tall? 

“I’m sorry?” George replies with a sneer, his voice raising in both pitch and volume and Jon is sure if people weren’t looking before, they’re looking now. “I’ll thank you to stay out of this, we were just leaving-”

“No,” Martin replies in that preternaturally calm voice, still smiling. “You weren’t. Now let him go, and we can forget this all happened, hm?” He puts a hand on the arm that’s holding Jon and there’s real strength behind it. George tries to wrench his arm away but Martin’s got it in a solid grip and he barely manages a wiggle.

“Let go of me now, or I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” Martin sounds bored. It is mystifying and Jon can do nothing but gape at the man. “You don’t want a scene, do you? Not in front of the family. Not again. So smile, and walk away.” There is a moment where Jon thinks they will come to blows but it passes. George manages to turn his scowl into a neutral expression, saving some dignity though he throws one last glare Jon’s way. “Not even worth it,” he mutters as he walks away. Jon leans against the bar, releasing a breath he did not realize he’d been holding.

“A-Are you alright, Jon?” Martin has a hand on his elbow but it’s okay now because it’s Martin and it feels right. His face has that same look he gets when he asks Jon whether he wants a cup of tea, or how he’s feeling or if he’s eaten that day. Worried, gentle.

“W-What was that?” is all Jon manages to get out, his voice in an embarrassingly high-pitch. Tim and Sasha are now making their way over with schooled expressions, though Jon can see the worry in their eyes. “Did you know that man? I-I mean, what the hell?” Jon realizes he’s sputtering and tries to get a handle on his swirling emotions. “N-Not that I’m not grateful, but good lord. ‘Not again?’”

Martin laughs, suddenly bashful. “I just guessed with that one, honestly. He looks like the type that’s thrown a fit or two, doesn’t he?” Tim and Sasha reach them and Martin is himself again, hunched over like he’s taking up too much space. This is the Martin that tiptoes around the archives, that’s always smiling and chattering about his day. Jon has never contemplated the man in much detail, but he is finding it hard to reconcile this new side of him. It’s not necessarily unwelcome. 

“Alright there, boss?” Tim inquires, good-natured but anxious. “Was going to come over, pretend to be your boyfriend and all but Martin said that would be ‘demeaning’ or whatever.” Tim rolls his eyes at this.

“I don’t know, Martin seemed to diffuse the situation pretty well,” Sasha eyes him curiously. “What did you say?”

“N-Nothing, really-”

“He asked him to leave,” Jon says, finding his voice and unable to take his eyes off Martin. “And he left.”

“Damn, okay,” Tim gives an appreciative whistle before knocking back the rest of his drink. “Working that Mart-o magic, I guess. This party blows, let’s hit the bars. Night’s still young!”

Sasha cheers and Martin looks at him questioningly- he surprises himself by nodding in agreement. “Yeah, let’s go.” He studiously ignores Elias breaking off from his group of sycophants and heading their way. He watches as Martin straightens himself minutely, blocking Jon with his body as Tim ushers them out the door before they can get stopped by the man. Jon knows he will get a tongue-lashing out of this but he doesn’t care right now. He feels small in Martin’s shadow but it is a safe small, like a blanket wrapped around him on a chilly night.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Martin asks as Tim and Sasha chatter ahead of them, arguing over their destination. “We don’t have to go out if you don’t want to. I can take you home.”

I can take you home.

“I’m fine,” he says though he knows the situation hasn’t quite set in yet. “I’d rather not be alone, I-I think.” Martin nods and gives him a smile. It is almost charming, and Jon returns it. He doesn’t really want another drink but he needs a distraction, any distraction.

The night is cold and Martin is close, big and safe and warm. And if Jon leans into his side when they finally agree on a bar, that’s nobody’s business but his own.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26856373

[langernameohnebedeutung]

Okay since I remember one of the asks that  disappeared, it was about what the situation is like between East Germany and West Germany today and if there are linguistic or cultural differences. (For one, if you’re interested in this, I really recommend the film Goodbye, Lenin, it’s a classic and it’s exactly about this subject and really funny and sad)

As for the linguistic side, because it’s simpler-

There are a lot of regional differences between German to begin with and I think compared to them, the differences between 'East German' German and 'West German' German are rather small. Being West German myself, I have an easier time understanding someone from Mecklenburg-Vorpommern or Brandenburg or Saxony-Anhalt than I do with someone who has a strong Bavarian, Swabian or Franconian accent, although the former were East German and the former are West German. Also they’re not necessarily more similar because they were one a specific side of the border.

There are some things that vaguely align with either region and were more common on one side - for example there are different ways to same the time, but those also predate the separation and not all 'Wessis' say it this way and all 'Ossis' say it that way.

There are some specific words and abbreviations and idioms that originated in West Germany or in East Germany, but they are mostly rooted in Hochdeutsch (Standard German) so you can conclude their meaning.

For example, in West Germany people called a supermarket a Supermarkt (generally, there are more loanwords from Western languages in 'West German') while East Germans said 'Kaufhalle'. But 'Super' and 'Markt' are both German words and even if you don't know what it means, you can conclude that it's a really great place to run your daily errands. And 'Kauf' and 'Halle' translates to 'buying hall' so you get the same idea.

In regional dialects such as Frisian or Swiss German, this would impossible, because these dialects are much older and very often have words and rules that don't exist in Standard German - not to mention they are pronounced very differently. You couldn’t deconstruct a word like that into Standard German unless they sound similar. Some researchers also said that some words were used differently and that East Germans had a stronger distinction between public and private language and make different jokes - which is pretty much a transition into the other differences. Basically, the actual use of language that came into existence because of the separation was too short-lived and too artificial to truly part of the language. Plus there was never actually an attempt by either side to create a ‘new’ German language. 

I actually watched some videos about North Koreans living in South Korea and struggling with the language and I noticed that for one, that Koreans said there was a rather consistent North Korean way of speaking - but while there are certain dialects like Saxonian that are ‘typical’ East German dialects (my parents can tell you if someone comes from East or West Berlin and often which part of either just based on the way they speak), there is not ONE East German dialect. Plus, the duration and intensity of the separation cannot be compared to that of Korea. Many East Germans still listened to West German radio and watched Western television. People could talk on the phone and write letters. And before the ‘death strip’ was finished, people could even talk across the wall. So there was some interaction. 

As for other differences - 

The obvious ones are the economical differences. West Germany still has a stronger economy than East Germany - a map, as an example (although it’s a bit small I know) - you can easily make out which part used to be GDR and which used to be West Germany.

The result is that many young East Germans, especially young women, move into the West to work, especially from rural regions. There are a lot of towns actually shrinking because they're only populated by old people and those who stay behind and try to make it work. At the same time, a lot of West Germans have started studying in the East because things are cheaper there. Many of them are students - so, again, young people - but they are moving into the cities like Leipzig, Potsdam or Dresden.

I definitely think there is a generational divide in the attitude East Germans and West Germans have for each other. I was born after the reunification and I've always considered all of Germany my home-country and so do pretty much all my peers and everyone up to a certain age. But my mother, for example, was born three years after the wall was first built and her entire youth, she watched it become bigger and higher and stronger - back then, she could barely imagine ever seeing a reunification and living in West Berlin, she experienced East Germany as a hostile country surrounding her and restricting her and being the cause of all the military presence - so she also didn't really see them as the other half to a whole and more of an enemy. 

This was one of my favourite caricatures in my history books in school, it’s about the changing attitude East and West had to each other, the text says:

1945: “Brother!” 1955: “My dear cousin!” 1965: “Oh, right - we still have some distant relative living in a foreign country.”

The generation who was actually born pre-separation was born under the NS-regime and for most of them, watching the country as it was fall apart and rebuilding their lives after the war was a formative experience. This generation was all about looking forward, not back (because...looking back was very ugly, too). People who had family in the other half tried to stay in contact, make it work - but people who didn't usually had a more ambiguous relationship to all of this.

After the war, West Germany under Chancellor Adenauer's leadership was at least as eager to build relationships with the West as to reunify. And considering that occupied Germany could do very little to actually solve the whole Cold War problem all by itselves, the focus for the West was really on reconciling with France, forming a stronger European community (what would eventually turn into the European Union), rebuilding the country (Miracle on the Rhine) as well as rebuilding its international reputation. The fight to reconnect with the East (like attempts to form a 'pan'-German Olympics team) was mostly carried by individuals and organisations. 

West Germany never considered itself saturated - for example, the reason that our Constitution is not called a Verfassung but a Grundgesetz a 'basic law' is that having a constitution would imply that this is a fully-formed state, when really, it was only expected to exist until the reunification. But de facto, in the 1960s and 1970s, reunification had begun to seem so unlikely that West Germany begun to ‘solidify’. I live near Bonn (the capital of West Germany) and it's interesting that the buildings the government moved into during the 1970 are much more permanent and secure (also partly because of RAF terror attacks). 

You also have to keep in mind, even when the wall came down, only very few countries actually supported a reunification - many wanted the two Germanys to continue to exist as separate countries or to find a different solution. People were really worried about German reunification meaning that Germany would suddenly revert back to Nazi-Germany or, less paranoid, that a united Germany would be such an economic super-power that it would dominate the EU (...well) with only France and Britain (...well) being able to opposite it. So being too vocal about reunification for no reason was a delicate diplomatic endeavour in the decades prior to reunification. But long story short, there was always the dream of reuniting and becoming a whole new country together one day.

Which is...kinda the problem today.

Culturally, East Germany had an entirely different attitude towards itself, West Germany, its Allies and the world. It was a lot more militaristic, it was socialist and also had a very different relationship to the legacy of the NS-history and had very different international allies. For example, in SED-lingo, the “Berlin Wall” was called the “Anti-Fascist Protection Wall” (The West being the fascists.) They considered themselves a new country. West Germany considered itself the Nachfolgestaat (successor state) to Nazi Germany with all responsibilities like building a good relationship with Israel etc. while East Germany held up the communist resistance and saw themselves more as the successors of the people who fought against the Nazis. A lot of members of the SED government had actually fled Germany during the NS-regime and gone to Russia and aided the resistance from there.

I already mentioned West Germany's great plans about reuniting and becoming a whole new country together. But when the wall fell, that never happened. West Germany absorbed East Germany and moved on with no new constitution or actual negotiation. Compared to West Germany, East Germany didn't have a strong economy and it was socialist, which means that the companies were owned by the state. A state that had ceased to exist, basically. So West Germany decided on a plan to bring East Germany up to (capitalist) standard. Chancellor Kohl promised that he would turn it into 'Blühende Landschaften', 'thriving lands' (which is something West Germans often mockingly say when they're angry about something happening in East Germany, so you do the maths).

Problem with all of this was that this meant basically re-modelling the entire economy. A lot of people lost their jobs, the weaker East German currency was replaced with the West German currency and Western companies moved into East Germany.

There is this old joke about reunification: East Germany: "West Germany, West Germany, you broke your promises." West Germany: "Don't worry about it, I'll buy you a new one."

Basically, through the Solidaritätszuschlag a lot of money was invested into the East - something that to this day, many people in the West resent, especially people who come from poorer regions themselves and accuse East Germans of mismanaging money or say that cities like Leipzig or Dresden were built up to be representative for the success of the reunification while certain regions in the West like the Ruhr-region are suffering at least as much as rural regions in East Germany. These groups demand that the Solidaritätszuschlag isn’t just invested into the East but all regions that have a poor infrastructure or similar problems.

You have to understand what a big deal reunification was when it happened. To this day, it is considered the 'only peaceful revolution on German soil' and East Germans take great pride in beating that regime while West Germans consider it the fulfillment to all diplomatic ambitions the country had since it was formed. And obviously, families were reunited after decades, people could move freely - you have to keep in mind, travel was extremely restricted and now everyone could go wherever they pleased. It was the biggest, best and happiest moment in living history. And then it took a giant nose-dive in the 90s and the stereotypes of the 'whining East German' and the 'arrogant West German' were born.

For example, the poverty caused a rise in right-wing radicalism in East Germany. The country was very isolated and suddenly a lot of families lost their income and people started blaming it on immigrants. West Germans, in response, decided East Germans are all Nazis and racists and are ruining our elections. 

These days, parties like the right-wing AfD are actually trying to use the 'Western is the default' culture of Germany to appeal to East Germans and presenting themselves as the only ones who will represent East Germany. That's why they're rather successful in East Germany - they actually address East Germans as a group while the other parties look out for their supporters in specific regions in the West. At the same time, many East Germans who aren't racist, aren't Nazis and aren't voting the AfD or NPD accuse West Germans (rightfully imo) of blaming all problems there are with racism in the country on the East to avoid addressing their own issues. 

East German: “As if there was no racism in the West.” West German: “There is...but it’s only latent.”

I think it’s important to understand that there are cultural differences and they can’t be broken down into: “East Germany has more Nazis”. And there are different experiences people made on either side.

For example, in 2009, during her election campaign, Angela Merkel had an interview and spoke about how she preferred buying her own groceries. (Yeah, German elections are full of riveting revelations about exciting stuff. Nothing compared to her compaign where she revealed her recipe for potato soup). She said: "I go to the supermarket - or, as we used to say, Kaufhalle."

The German version of the Daily Show takes this clip and shows it and makes a whole joke about it with the host commenting rather drily: "No, she got something wrong here - we never said Kaufhalle in the Federal Republic of Germany". Obviously, Merkel never said that anyone said that in West Germany. She was speaking of her personal experience - and she's East German. But I find it very telling that a national tv program actually branded this as a 'mistake' on her part, because the way she talked about her experiences wasn’t altered for West Germans to identify with them. At the same time, if you watch tv shows that are in a generic German setting - for example the tv-show Dark - you will notice that they’re never in East Germany. They’re almost always in a generic West German place - because that is not considered a statement.

As for other cultural differences, East Germany became very un-religious while West Germany had many CDU (Christian Democratic Union) governments. The result today is that West Germans are more likely to be (at least on the paper) either Protestant or Catholic while (I think) 3 out of 4 East Germans are neither. There are different attitudes towards family, equality, community, ---- nudity, entertainment, food, cooking. how much ice-cream should cost and so on.

So this also means there are...differences regarding the way people think about the past. West Germans tend to think of their living memory as universal, while Ostalgie (East-algia) is something peculiar to the East - because West Germans (with the exception maybe of West Berliners) didn’t experience comparable changes. But East Germans remembering their old cars and old food and stuff is something that many West Germans are suspicious of, because for West Germans, their last experience with a dictatorship was the NS-regime, so there is a much smaller acceptance of the West of separating the lived every-day culture under an authoritarian regime than in the East, where entire generations grew up in this system and built a private life for themselves outside the political aspects of that society.

This also leads to the bigger conversation about the GDR as an ‘Unrechtsstaat’ (Rechtsstaat: A country where everyone is equally protected by the law, Unrecht: Injustice).  Basically, when East Germans say “Not everything was bad”, they are usually speaking about the community, helping each other and specific traditions, child care, things being more affordable. When West Germans hear them say ‘not everything was bad’ they think about that one uncle who might or might not have been in the SS and alarm bells begin to ring. I think this conversation is full of misunderstandings on either side. Because the East Germans actually suffered a cultural shock in the 90s when basically their entire culture changed and many people lost their jobs and their entire social environment begun to crack - while West Germans grew up watching military parades and giant socialist celebrations being held on tv for years in their neighbouring country and feared that they would be the first to die if a nuclear war broke out and now they see people celebrate that time. 

That said, I think the tone of these disagreements has changed somewhat and statistics show that people are becoming increasingly more ‘German’ and less ‘East’ or ‘West’ German.. As I said, there is a strong generational divide, imo. No one in my generation or ...below 35 would ever seriously argue that 'East' and 'West' don't belong together, while I know some people in their 40s and 50s who sometimes say it was a mistake. These days, in my opinion, its less a sentiment of 'this is a different country and we have to live with them' (another joke: What's the difference between Russians and West Germans? - we got rid of the Russians) and more an internal disagreement that has some very serious aspects and some less serious aspects.

There is this (unofficial, whimsical) thing that journalists do every year when we (officially) celebrate (by doing literally nothing and sitting at home) reunification and they go around asking random people if the 'wall in our heads' still exists and I don't think it's really a wall that exists - it's not about the wall, anymore, or the Cold War or propaganda or anything, it's about the differences that exist today. 

And in your original ask you wanted to know if there are still ramifications and there definitely are - the economical ones and the cultural ones. But I think when it comes to the cultural ones, I think part of the problem is the West German expectation that in order to truly tear down the 'wall in our heads', East Germans have to become and act and think exactly like West Germans - but I don't think that should be the goal and I think that the actual tensions between East and West are becoming smaller rather than bigger. I mean, I really focused on the negative in this answer, but I think most people today, especially the young generation, considers themselves German first and Ossi or Wessi second (or fourth or fifth) and the economical situation in the East has improved tremendously since the 1990s and I think that also helps easing things. 

I also dug up some numbers of varying usefulness for you:

43% of East Germans say they eat meat and sausage every day, only 24% of West Germans do

The Gender Pay Gap is 7% in East Germany and 22% in West Germany

Of the 201 most successful CEOs in Germany, only 2% are East German

27% of East Germans say they trust the media, 43% of West Germans do

The 20 biggest German newspaper are all from former West Germany

2017 about 38% of East Germany were open to trying chocolate pizza, 43% of West Germans were

[esonetwork]

The Alpha Male Isn't

New Post has been published on https://esonetwork.com/the-alpha-male-isnt/

The Alpha Male Isn't

You may have run into one of these guys.

Alpha Male Aquaman

They’re big, maybe bearded, scowling. “I am a dominant Alpha male by nature,” they say. “I’m a Bull… a primal hunter. I have no time for any liberal/democrat rhetoric or narrative. I don’t support BS movements and I bow to no one. I am a man’s man.”

They may have the suits, the Ray Bans, the Harley Davidsons, or the Hummers, but they’re not Alpha Males.

Why? Because there is no such thing as an Alpha Male.

And if you haven’t run into one in real life (or you aren’t under the delusion that you are one of those guys) you see them all over popular entertainment, and in Science Fiction, Fantasy and Comic Book movies in particular.

Captain Alpha Male

SF & Fantasy movies are littered with straight-up badasses that all the guys picture themselves as wanting to be (or, in their dreams, actually are). Conan the Barbarian. Captain Kirk. Batman. Tarzan. Aquaman. Wolverine. James Bond (not Fantasy? Think again, my friend!)

The list goes on. Surely these examples, as fantastic as they are, are pure and simple Alpha males?

The answer, my friend, is still; No.

So, how is it that I can say this with such certainty? It’s because the whole concept of the “Alpha Male” originally came about from research on wolves. Research that, it turns out, was flawed.

Rudolf Schenkel wrote about social structure and body language among wolves in 1947. Schenkel studied wolves at the Basel Zoo in Switzerland, where up to ten wolves were kept together in an area of 10 by 20 metres. He saw that the highest ranked female and male formed a pair, and that the hierarchy could change.

“By continuously controlling and suppressing all types of competition within the same sex, both ‘alpha animals’ defend their social position,” Schenkel wrote.

According to another well-known wolf researcher, David Mech, it was Schenkel’s work that gave rise to the idea of the alpha wolf, according to The International Wolf Center website.

Gal Gadot as Wonder Woman

In 1970, the book The Wolf: Ecology and Behavior of an Endangered Species was published, written by David Mech. It was a success. The book helped to popularize the alpha concept, which was soon adopted to human interaction.

The idea of an Alpha Wolf feeds naturally into human interaction. Among any group of men there is always a leader. The expression “Top Dog” is an idiom for the boss. In a competition, it is also the favorite or the one expected to win, and the opposite of the underdog. It may be a shorthand reference for a dominance hierarchy.

And it’s natural that male leaders would lionize themselves as “Alphas” and assume that this means that they represent some sort of superiority either in physical power, emotional dominance or, in a disturbingly high number of cases, genetic supremacy.

But it’s all nonsense.

You see, the research done on the wolf pack structure in the 60s and 70s was mainly done on wolves in captivity. These wolves were not necessarily related and were kept in an unnaturally small area.

Since that time, Mech had studied wild wolf packs on Ellesmere Island in Canada for 13 summers. He discovered that what was commonly called the alpha pair was simply the parents of the rest of the pack. As parents, they consequently led the pack’s activities.

Peggy Carter as Captain Britain

“Dominance fights with other wolves are rare, if they exist at all. During my 13 summers where I observed the pack, I saw none,” Mech wrote in an article entitled “Alpha Status, Dominance, and Division of Labor in Wolf Packs”.

The male will hunt on his own only when the female is nesting with the young cubs. And the male needs to hunt a lot because he ends up having to bring the majority of what he catches home to the family. When the cubs are older the male and the female share hunting duties equally. The cubs begin to hunt as well but they are not yet skilled at it so will hunt in packs until they get better, then will hunt on their own. But a young male hunting on his own does not catch much. It’s tricky for the lone wolf to survive and often times he only does because wolves are physiologically designed to survive on very little.

So what does all this do to the idea of the human “Alpha Male”? Well, it pretty much lets the air out of it.

You see, according to current research, humans look for some dominance in a potential partner, but only to assure that the potential mates are good providers. What turns out to be more of an attraction is kindness

T’Chala as a kinder, gentler Star Lord

The conclusions of a study by Jerry Burger and Mica Cosby suggest that woman do not want a demanding male, and only 12 percent wanted an aggressive person for a date and romantic partner.

Dominance is attractive, but beyond that, the big winners were easygoing and sensitive.

So, what does this mean for our SF, Fantasy and Comic Book heroes?

Well, what it means is just what we see happening. Less emphasis on the unattainable ideal of the “Alpha” hero, and more situations where men and women work together, and where sometimes the women take on the dominant role. More stories where consideration and kindness towards others wins the day over brute force.

More heroes like Captain America, Wonder Woman, Black Widow, Michael Burnham, or Frodo Baggins, who is no one’s conventional idea of an Alpha Male, but is a hero nonetheless. Peggy Carter as Captain America and Steve Rodgers as her devoted sidekick. T’Challa as Star Lord, who’s compassion, and sensitivity, paired with his action hero skills, helps make the galaxy a better place (and who even talks… TALKS… Thanos out of his idea to cull half the population of the galaxy).

The world is changing, slowly but surely and the whole idea of the “Alpha” male is slowly fading into irrelevance. Now and again we hear the plaintive cries of outraged fanboys who are desperate to hold on to the status quo, but it’s all for nought. Things are proceeding apace and those who cling to the past will get pulled further and further away from the “Now”.

There are no “Alpha” males. Might does not make right. One does not become dominant by being aggressive, demanding, or intimidating. These traits are, by and large, disagreeable.

Just like that other Rogers; Fred… Mister Rogers… said: When things get scary, don’t look for the “Man’s Man”… “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.”

[realbeeing]

ancestral trauma & healing

I’ve recently come to understand what it means to honor my ancestors. I had heard mystics and shamans talk about how we can either relate to our ancestors in an unhealthy way— by holding onto their pain and perpetuating it unconsciously— or in a healthy way, by doing our best to work through the dysfunctions they passed on to us, starting to identify the pain as not solely our own but part of a chain of experience from which now another decision can be made. Breaking the cycle, in other words. 

Lately I started to feel a lot about my Jewish heritage, especially because I got a DNA test where it was confirmed I am pretty much of three-quarters Ashkenazi Jewish descent. I already knew my father’s family and maternal grandmother’s family came from that tribe so it was not a huge surprise, but with the company I bought the test from, they reveal not just that you are of Ashkenazi descent but what that particular descent really means: usually being one-half to two-thirds Arab genetics with the other part Southern European genetics, often Italian. In my case, I learned I had about a third Arab and Near-East origins and another third Italian. (My levels were lower because I have one non-Jewish, Irish grandparent).

Going through my results brought to light a new realization for me about the story of my ancestors. The Jewish people had moved around a lot: from the Middle East, to the Roman Empire, to the German kingdom and then further into Eastern Europe. And then many of them left Europe entirely to come to the United States or to Israel, havens for the Jewish population. For some reason I had never really thought about what it took for my ancestors— really just my great grandparents — to come all the way to America  It was not like they just decided one day to to travel to a new continent for a vacation. Nowadays it’s hard to understand the scope of such travel before the time of cheap and abundant flights and a more globalized culture. I can’t imagine what it was like to uproot yourself from your homeland and go to a place where your familiar language wasn’t spoken, where the culture was totally different. No, they must have come here out of necessity. My family has kept scant records though so I can only speculate. 

I have read a lot about anti-semitism recently and the pogroms that occurred in Eastern Europe, where my ancestors were living. The Jews were always on the run, a persecuted people, for whatever reason that is still mysterious to me. Were we victims? Were we perpetuating this cycle ourselves from a victim complex? I wasn’t there to know. 

Jews have learned to make a home in many places. I feel that in myself in my need to travel and the desire I’ve had since being a child of running away, being a nomad, going to an unknown land. Yet what is my enjoyment was their serious task. In my youthful seeking phase I contacted a bunch of different eclectic religious paths, settling into the Hare Krishna way for a couple of years in Peru as well as going into strange rabbit holes about all sorts of new age topics such as aliens and lost civilizations. In this period, I hardly thought about Judaism at all, nor my ancestors. I was convinced the body is just a phantasm, that we are soul first and thus that my true ancestry was first cosmic and that any earthly ties were not a subject for any earnest consideration. Growing up on North American native land, spending time on Andean land, going deep into Vedic religion— I was a mix of many influences and those related to blood seemed like the least relevant. 

In my Krishna commune, we called our group “family” and I think genuinely felt that way about each other. It was not genetics that connected us but a spiritual purpose and a belief we were all headed to the same lofty quarters of heaven. I remember learning one Hebrew song after hearing tons of Vedic chants and seeing a Star of David in my mind’s eye during a sweat lodge, but other than that my ethnic-spiritual past seemed far away.  

Meanwhile it wasn’t until a couple of years after leaving that group when I began to do a lot of deeper healing than that which had been supposedly dealt with in my religion, when I thought all my burdens had been lit on fire by god. In a way it was true: I received a spiritual communion which rooted itself so deeply in my consciousness that I can never go back to who I was before that experience. But still there was quite a deep wound to address, namely a traumatic childhood based on being abused by a parent. A parent who was abused by their own parent. And so on: a chain not of spiritual transmission but of shit. They were not the ancestors how I would have liked to imagine them: old sages or native chiefs whispering wise words in my ear. I did not want to admit the reality of the situation for a long time because of my chronic conditioning to downplay serious events in my life, brushing them aside because I never thought they were important enough—  which was an idea I had been brandished with by my abuser. Also it went against the image I had of myself as this spiritually liberated person. It wasn’t necessarily that this image was a complete illusion, which is a tempting conclusion to make when we receive a humbling from life. It would be easier to dismiss the entire past— but nothing can be so black and white. My ancestors are not all good or all evil. My initial spiritual experimentation did yield some truly healing moments. That was real for the time being. I could find meaning as a “galactic” citizen. But then eventually I did have to come down to earth. Another layer of the spiral had to unfold. A death had to take place. 

At first I resisted it and I saw my life stagnate a lot. Besides the fact that I was forcibly stranded in a rural country not my own due to the worldwide pandemic, I was stuck creatively, mentally and socially. I was isolating myself both physically and in way of ideas. I slowly started to become more interested in conspiracy theories, especially since world events have gotten so crazy which has sparked a whole tidal wave of increased paranoid thinking among everyone. Forget my ancestors being persecuted-- I was being persecuted just for being alive! The essential message of love—which was the lesson of all my valuable spiritual trips— was sometimes forgotten and the adrenaline rush of fear or excitement at some impending catastrophic event became almost a hobby and stood in for giving my time and energy to more creative and nourishing endeavors. It took a location move and I think my Saturn return to really kickstart a new cycle for myself, one where I do want to look at the pain I have been carrying and see how this pain is both mine and is not. The suffering in my genetic line is both something I can transcend out of and something I am inexplicably bound to and responsible for addressing. 

In the recognition of pain comes the power needed to finally confront it head on. I thought I had already sufficiently looked into my past and done the emotional purging work— but it was a whole new step for me to acknowledge the abuse as well as to acknowledge that I had some degree of trauma from what I went through. What followed from taking this step was not only more self-love and psychological balance but also a razing of my mental inventory: I was not exactly who I thought I was. This clearing made space for new inspiration and motivation, for the courage to create beauty where I could. To make jewelry, paint, dance, run, sing. Things I had forgotten and filled instead with trivial information. That was okay then, and I am okay now too. It is not some before/after scenario: that paradigm of healing is over. Like I said, healing is a spiral which unfurls at its own pace. I am exactly where I need to be. And from this vantage point, I can better hear what my ancestors are speaking to me, and I listen— while also telling them, I’m going to do things a bit differently now. We are going to do things different. 

[korra-the-red-lion]

Unnatural Affairs. Chapter 1: Move In Day.

(Ally)

The first day of university was one of those exciting yet absolutely terrifying things. Luckily, it was just move in day and that gave me a week reprieve before I actually went to my first class. Still, the anxiety of moving away from home was something you couldn’t help, even if you don’t always get along your parents. Being on your own, expected to fend for yourself alone. That made me shiver to my core.

The car bumped along the road as we approached the campus. My dad said something to my mom under his breath, for her ears only. I didn’t mind, too busy focusing on the school buildings coming into view. It wasn’t a massive campus, but that fit me just fine. I grew up in a small town, so a smaller university was the least overwhelming choice for me to pick. I originally got accepted into Chester University, but with a student population of 45,000, I could feel my heart rate increase just reading about it. My dad was disappointed that I didn’t go to Perkins, his alma mater, but it was just so far away and quite frankly, had a reputation as a party school. No, not for me, thank you very much. I liked that Mount Seamus had a small student population (only 3,000) and was close enough to home that I could go back if I needed to (only an hour and half drive).

“Alexandra,” said my mom, looking over her shoulder, “how are you feeling?”

I tore my gaze away from the window. “A little nervous, if I’m being honest. Excited too, but mostly nervous.”

She smiled at me. “Perfectly normal. I think you’ll be great, sweetie.”

I smiled back at her, before returning my eyes back to the window. We were rolling up to the drop off spot for students. My parents would drop me off there and take my things to my room. I was happy for a chance to be away from them for a short time. I loved them, but sometimes they could be a tad bit stifling. It will be nice to be able to explore on my own for awhile before having to do the whole tour with them.

The car bumped to a stop. I undid my seatbelt, breathing slowly through my nose. I could feel my nerves trying to get the better of me. My mom reached around and placed her hand on my shoulder, giving me an encouraging nod. I nodded back to her and opened the door, the warmth of the August air hitting me.

“We’ll drop your stuff off and meet you at the student services building, okay?” said mom.

I nodded, not trusting my voice right now.

Mom reached out the window and kissed my hands, filling me with warmth, calming me down a little. My dad looked over and mumbled out a ‘good luck’ before they drove off. My dad wasn’t a man of many words, and it was having a hard time with me moving out. I just hoped that he’d open up a bit more before we got here, but clearly that wasn’t happening. Still, there was still time.

The sound of music and people cheering drew my attention. They were holding up signs that welcomed the new students, signs pointing people in the right direction, and just general fun vibes coming from that direction. That’s where I needed to be, so that’s where I went.

The music was a little too loud for my liking, but I just dealt with it. I didn’t have to be at this spot for too long. A student spotted me and waved at me to come over. She grinned as I approached, high fiving her friend. She had her hair tied up in a high ponytail. The colours of the school were painted on her cheeks, nearly hiding the smattering of freckles that spread across her nose and maybe her cheeks. Her friend was a bit shorter, with her hair done in a messy bun and wearing matching face paint.

“Hey-o, welcome to MSU, frosh,” said the freckled girl excitedly. “Is this your first time on campus?”

I nodded shyly, trying to not take a step back. The anxiety was trying to overwhelm me again.

“Nice! I’m Lyn, and this is my buddy Loryn!” she indicated the girl next to her. “We’re here to show people around and help out with anything you need for today.”

“If you want it, that is,” added Loryn quickly, maybe noticing my discomfort.

“Yes, totally!” Lyn looked back and forth between us, frowning slightly for a second before grinning again. “This is not mandatory by any means. It’s more like, uh, a more personalized tour? Some people find the whole group thing super overwhelming and shit, so we do this so people can just have some one on ones.”

“I would like that, actually,” I said with a smile. “If you don’t mind showing me around, Lyn, that would be lovely.”

Lyn winked at Loryn before coming around the table. “Hehe, another win for me, Loryn. If you don’t pick it up, cleaning the locker room sure is gonna suck for you.”

“Shut up and just show the poor girl around. Oh, and try not to be too loud, Lyn.”

Lyn rolled her eyes and indicated me to follow her. She was tall, probably around 6ft or something close to that. I didn’t notice it before, because I was distracted by the blue and white painted all over her face, but she had stunning electric blue eyes. The kind that most girls envied. They really popped against the paleness of her skin.

She must have noticed me looking as she turned towards me a little bit more, her eyes searching mine. Her face softened and she said to me, “You must be really nervous, huh?”

“I am, yeah…” I tucked my hair behind my ear. “It’s my first time away from home, from my parents, you know? You dream of moving out and being on your own for so long, but when the day comes, all you want do is go back home and wish you can just live there forever.”

Lyn nodded. “I get that, totally. Hopefully you’ll adjust here quickly, but girl, don’t feel bad about homesickness. Most of us feel it.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I’m Ally, by the way,” I said quickly. It totally slipped my mind to introduce myself earlier, but it occurred to me when she called me ‘girl.’

“Ally, huh? That’s a nice name,” she smiled at me again. “Okidoki, let’s get down to business, shall we? This is here is the main campus, where you’ll find all the classroom buildings and the library. The residence buildings are all located around the main campus, but no building is longer than a 10-minute walk around here. Food hall is over on the east side, over yonder,” she pointed to where I assume the meal hall was located, “so it’s nice depending on which res you’re in. I was in Lukas Hall, which was close to the AC but across from the food hall, so I always had to pack snacks for after practice in case I couldn’t grab something before class.”

“Sorry, but what’s the ‘AC’?” I asked, tilting my head to the side.

“Shit, sorry, you’re new. It’s the Athletic Centre, where I spend most of my days.”

I bite my lip in thought, looking her up and down, trying to guess what sport she played. She was tall and had lean muscle. She was wearing flip flops and track pants, her toes had chipped nail polish on them. She was wearing a university t-shirt, but it gave no indication to which team she was on. She was smirking at me with her arms crossed over her chest, knowing I was trying to guess.

“Okay, um, basketball?” I guessed.

She laughed with a gentle shake of her head. “Nope! I’ll let you guess one more time.”

Damn, okay. She wasn’t too bulky, so I knew basketball was a risky guess. I think volleyball is wrong too. There were no scraps or bruises on her knees and legs to indicate that she played soccer or hockey.

I smiled brightly when it came to me. “Swim team!”

Lyn broke out in a huge grin. “Damn, yeah! How’d you guess?”

“Well, I didn’t notice any bruising on your skin. So, it kind of eliminated contact sports. I did think maybe you did cross country or swimming because of your build. You’re muscular, but it’s not heavy muscle like other sports. It’s the kind of muscle required for endurance. But then I saw your toes…for the most part they look fine. I feel like a runner would have more calluses and swelling down there. Therefore, the logical conclusion had to be swimming,” I explained.

Lyn gave a low whistle and shoved her hands in her pockets. “Well damn, Ally. That was pretty freaking good. You wanna be a PI or something?”

I blushed as I shook my head. “Not really. I just always had a knack for noticing details.”

“Well, that’s a pretty cool knack. I’m shit with details, so there’s no way in hell I could have guessed that just from sizing someone up. Come on, I’ll show ya the rest of the campus and we’ll head over to the meet up spot. I assume your parents are meeting you there?”

I nodded and we were off again. Lyn was honestly not great at explaining where things were, since she would just vaguely point in the direction and tell me the building names, even though I didn’t know much about them. But, she was really nice and friendly. I actually ended up forgetting about how anxious I was about this whole thing and ended up really enjoying the tour. I knew I’d end up doing it with my parents again anyway, so I didn’t mind that this wasn’t the gold standard tour given out by the university coordinators.

Eventually we ended up back to where I met her and Loryn, who was now gone. Maybe she was giving someone else a tour. Lyn directed me to where my parents were waiting for me. My mom was checking her phone, and when our eyes connected, I realized I never took it out once while I was with Lyn. I guiltily pulled it out from my purse and saw that I had three missed texts and a missed called from her. If I was anxious about moving out, my mom was way worse.

Of course, I understood why. Ever since I was a little kid, I noticed things that other people didn’t. At first, my parents chalked it up to youthful imagination but after great grand dad passed away and I told Nana that he wanted to apologize for how he treated her and Betty when they were growing up, my parents came to the conclusion that there was something wrong with me. There isn’t, in the traditional sense. It just seems as if I could connect to the supernatural aspects of this world. It wasn’t normal, and it really upset my dad quite a bit. I tried to make sure I never talked about it once I got old enough to understand how they felt about the situation, but there were times that it slipped. Like at Kat’s 13th birthday bash, which I ended up having a panic attack at because I swore that I saw some sort of demon crawling out of the garden shed. I think my mom just didn’t want me to feel like an outcast again, but university is supposed to be a new beginning, right?

“Sorry, mom. I was talking to someone and just forgot to check my phone,” I said, a wave of shame washing over me.

My mom, a human scanner when it came to people I was with, looked Lyn up and down before nodding slowly, meaning she approved. My dad, however, stared at her for a solid minute of silence. Lyn shifted foot to foot uncomfortably and tugged at her ear.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asked under her breath.

“No, you didn’t. My dad is just very overprotective and tends to do this stupid act to scare people away,” I muttered back.

Finally, my dad clicked his tongue and nodded as well. “I’m glad that you found someone to show you around,” he said slowly.

“Yes, Lyn was very nice to do that,” I said. “The campus is lovely, and it will be nice to have a familiar face to see.” This drew a smile onto Lyn’s freckled face.

“Your daughter is super awesome,” she said to my parents, “but I can’t stick around much longer, unfortunately. Gotta go back and see if there are any other frosh who need my attention, you know?” She spared me a goodbye wink before sauntering back over to her table, where some guy was there instead of Loryn.

I found myself staring over at her before my attention was drawn back to my parents, especially my mom. She had a map of the campus and started asking me where everything was and how close I was to the major buildings (those being meal hall, the library, and the student centre in case I needed campus security for any reason).

I had a feeling this second tour was going to be much longer than the one I just had.

XXX

My parents helped me set everything up in my room. It wasn’t a big space, but that was to be expected. I’m an only child, so the real adjustment is learning how to share the space with another person. She wasn’t here at the moment; she went to supper with her parents. My mom offered to go picked something up so we could eat it here, leaving me alone with dad.

My relationship with my dad was…complicated at best. He was loving and looked out for me, but it was also difficult for him to come to terms with the more… how to say, unnatural aspects of my personality. He grew up as a devout Catholic, so these kinds of things just made him uncomfortable. I remember when I was 9 years old and being told I wasn’t allowed to go over to Chris Parks’ house anymore because his older brother used a Ouija Board during a Halloween party, and my dad was convinced the house was filled with evil spirts since.

So yeah, sometimes it was hard to get along with him. It didn’t matter how many times I explained myself to him, he was always harsh with judgement. It’s not like I woke up one day and asked for this. Trust me, if I had the choice, I’d be much happier living in a world of naivety like the other kids. I’ve had to go to therapy and be prescribed meds to help control my anxiety about seeing dead people and demons. That kind of shit scars you, doesn’t matter what age.

I was humming a tune to a song that helps me stay calm while making sure my poster of Supergirl was straight when I heard my dad clear his throat. Dropping my shoulders in anticipation, I looked over with a frown.

“Yes, dad?”

“Take a seat, I just want to chat before your mom gets back,” he said, patting a spot on my bed next to him.

Wary of what was coming next, I sat with my shoulders curled into towards my body. I fiddled with the arm of my glasses and waited for him to speak. There was no point in rushing him when he got like this.

“Alexandra, I know that growing up, I was harsh with you when it came to…” he waved his hand at me, “…you know. But, it was only for your own good. This here? This is a new chance, a chance to start fresh. No one here knows about your…you know. You can make friends, maybe even get a girlfriend. But baby girl, promise me that you won’t go looking for those kinds of dark things. Promise me you’ll just be ordinary, okay?”

There it was. Ordinary. The word was like a punch to the face every time he said it. I could feel my face grow hot with shame and anger as I got to my feet. “I- dad…you know I hate it when you say it that way…” my voiced cracked as I tried to keep it together.

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad, Alexandra. I just want you to have a good time here and not-”

“What? Not screw up?” I turned away from him, feeling the tears welling up.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“That’s how it sounded to me!”

Dad got to his feet as well and try to put his hand on my shoulder, which I shrugged off, not wanting him to touch me. I hated that he made me feel dirty about this.

“Listen, Alexandra, just…I’m sorry, okay? I just want to know you’ll be safe while you’re here.”

I rolled my eyes and forced myself to take a deep breath. “Okay, whatever dad.”

Whatever dumb thing he was going to say next was interrupted by mom coming in with the food. I quickly wiped at my eyes and forced myself to face them both. My mom’s eyes were red and puffy, clearly from crying in the car. Well, there I go too. I burst into tears and pull my mom into a tight hug, trying to take in her everything. I was ready to get away from home, I swear. But leaving my mom was harder than anything else in the whole world.

There we stood, sobbing onto each other’s shoulders while the food got cold beside us.

XXX

I stood on the corner as my parents drove away, my mom waving to me from the window. I had no more tears to spill, so I stood there in painful, hallow silence. Finally, when the bugs started to get too awful for me to deal with anymore, I made my way back to my residence. MacGavin hall was considered one of the better residences on campus, which is why my parents insisted I stayed there. I wasn’t going to argue with them, since they were paying.

I swiped my student card against the reader and pulled the door open once it beeped green. I made my way back to my room in miserable silence. There was already music blasting from someone’s room, and some of the students were sharing alcohol in the hall. Obviously, the RA was either a party person themselves, or they just didn’t care. To be honest, I didn’t care myself at this time.

I opened my door and saw that my roommate, Sarah I think, was sitting on her bed, headphones in. She rolled over with similar puffy eyes and smiled weakly at me.

“Same boat, huh?”

I nodded with a laugh. “Uh, yeah. That was way harder than I thought it would be.”

“Right?” She sat up, rubbing her face. “I was like, so excited to leave home and be like, independent from them. But then when it like, occurred to me that I wouldn’t be waking up in my house tomorrow… it sorta just like, hit me so hard. I ended up snotting in my salad.”

Okay, that made me genuinely laugh. I sat down on my bed and we ended up sort of just talking through the rest of the night, until we both fell asleep.

Maybe the first day of moving away from home was exciting and the start of a new journey. But those movies and books never talked about how hard it could be to let go. They never talked about the tears and the empty feeling of knowing that you just left everything you knew behind. It never talked about the fear that came with being in an unfamiliar place. As I drifted off, I knew I would be okay, even if it took a few days. But man, did my heart ache.

[louthestarspeaker]

Idleness

Another short for Fluffember! Tentatively using the prompt Fond (they all like each other so...) Scott took over this one. He was supposed to say like two things but decided he wanted to be chatty. He’s pretty hard to ignore.

This is another including Laurie, my original character. Thank you guys so much for all the love you gave her! You had me grinning all day :D  

Special thank you to @bonsaiiiiiii for the read-through and heaps of encouragement with this! You’re so wonderful <333

`*`

It shouldn’t be that hard to find one person on an island with a population of less than a dozen, but here Laurie was, making her second round of the villa and still no sign of her sister. 

Laurie trotted up the stairs into the lounge. No one here but Scott working at the desk, holographic documents floating around his face. Laurie had been trying not to disturb him, buuut…  

“Hey, Scott?”

“Hmmm?” He didn’t even look away from the projector.

Laurie tilted her head, trying to catch his eye, her glasses slipping down her nose some. “Are you really listening or just doing that thing where you hum at everyone so they think you’re listening?”

“The first one.” 

“Cool. Have you seen Des anywhere?”

“Out on the deck with Virge.” Scott said, indicating with a thumb over his shoulder.

Ohhh of course. 

See, Laurie had forgotten to check out there because it was filed away in the “incredibly dangerous” and “not an actual balcony” boxes in her brain. Why there was a whole door leading out there but no railing was a question she had yet to receive a straight answer for. 

With the light from inside and nightfall outside, the glass was made into a mirror. Laurie moved close to it, cupping her hands around her eyes so she could see out.

Des and Virgil had their backs to her, their silhouettes edged in the gold light from the lounge and the blue glow from a tablet they held. She and Virgil sat shoulder to shoulder, foreheads almost touching as they looked at the screen. They started speaking and Laurie saw that their mouths formed the same words.

The speaking in unison thing was not new. The two of them had been doing that for just about as long as Laurie could remember. Her brother Eagan, who found the whole thing wildly amusing, figured it was because they were both artists. Virgil in the musical and visual sense, Desiray in the poetic. They were cut from the same cloth, so to speak.

Alan and Gordon, on the other hand, had diagnosed telepathy, and spent a good week or two trying to develop some of their own with… limited success. They did, however, create a detailed code comprised entirely of eyebrow gestures to simulate the effect. 

John, so far, was the only person to crack it. Laurie was working in it.

Laurie smiled and turned away from the window. Des and Virge didn’t get very much downtime. She could wait. 

“Weren’t you looking for her?” Scott asked as she moved away from the glass.

Laurie shrugged. “I’ll catch her when she comes in. It’s just school stuff.”

There must have been something in her face, whatever it was prompting Scott to turn around and have a look out the window himself. He squinted a bit to make out Virgil and Desiray from behind the reflection, and then his face softened, his whole expression drifting into something fond.

“Yeah, good idea.” Scott said, he too turned away from the window, directing his attention back toward Laurie. “School work though, aren’t you on summer break?”

She was, but apparently a tropical island in the middle of the South Pacific wasn’t far enough to escape homework. 

“They give us a reading list and a bunch of math problems to make sure our brains don’t go to mush before we get back to school. I usually try to finish before I come here, but I’ve been busy.”

Scott nodded. He was more than aware the “busyness” constituted mostly of the IR projects they’d been gradually letting her take part in. She shadowed Brains sometimes, and was working on familiarizing herself with the specs of the Thunderbirds. 

She was doing well on the IR side of things, but Scott and her parents might need to have a talk about lightening her load if Laurie was pushing school to the back burner.

“Scott.” Laurie’s face said she knew exactly what he was thinking. “I’ve still got plenty of time to finish everything.” 

“Anything I can help you with?” That was Scotty, ever helpful, as if he didn’t already have enough to do.

Laurie cracked a smile. “Not unless you remember enough about The Metamorphosis to help me write a book report?”

“Yeah, you’re probably better off going to Des with that one. I’m pretty sure I only skimmed it.” 

Had he now? 

“Do you remember what you got?” Laurie asked, not at all suspiciously.

Her tone inevitably triggered Big Brother Mode, and he pinned her with a Look.

“Just asking?” 

Scott’s expression didn’t change. “A whole lot worse than I would’ve done if I’d actually read the book, I’ll tell you that.”

Laurie tapped a finger against her chin. “So is that more of B, maybe? I don’t wanna do less than a B.” 

“Laurie.”

She laughed. “Relax, Scott, I’ll read the book.”

“Mmhm.”

“I will! You’re supposed to be letting me move from flight simulations to Thunderbirds soon, and I am not about to sacrifice that for some incomplete homework.” 

“Alright, then.” Scott conceded, tugging lightly on her braid. “What about the math? I’m pretty good with that.” 

Laurie shrugged a shoulder. “I finished it already.” Well, finished mostly. “Do you need help with anything though?” She asked, turning the tables. 

There probably wasn’t a lot she could help with, but if there were calculations or something she might be able to lend a hand. She was pretty good with math too.

Scott raised an eyebrow, gesturing to his holo-display.  “Know anything about business negotiation?” 

Laurie peered closer at the documents, all the business jargon going right over her head. “Got anything with numbers?”

“Not tonight.”

Laurie shook her head, pivoting away from the desk. “Looks like you’re on your own then, Scotty.” She dropped into one of Alan’s rocket chairs, digging through the cushions for the remote. 

“Any preference?” She asked as she started flicking through programs. 

“No,” Scott said, and Laurie could hear a smile in his voice, “Just don’t forget about the calculus.”

She laughed. Of course he knew. Those older sibling super senses were always working overtime. Plus she was a terrible liar. “Sure, Scott. After this.”

A click of the remote and theme music played. Sometime later, Virgil and Des drifted back inside and settled in the lounge around her. Book reports were conveniently forgotten. Then Scott was coaxed from the desk by his brother, telling him to take just a quick break. It helped that Scott had been half watching from the desk already. 

Needless to say, with the lights dimmed and snacks abound, they all stayed there a while.