#which is the ONLY way many of my relatives and friend communicate and i am pretty well versed in it myself

[rockyp77mk3]

Right my side lost and your side won. I am trying to understand but I want to know what is the big difference between the Progressives and conservatives? Why do Progressives piss off conservatives so much? We only want equality and fairness.

Thank you for the question. These questions are deceptively simple but they require somewhat complicated answers. I will try.

Oh, I am not just a conservative. I am a Constitutional Conservative which means that the Constitution is considered the supreme law of the land. It is the guide against which all legislation, taxes, regulations, and issues are judged. It applies equally to all and is therefore a protection for all. It can only be changed by amendment and is not subject to any foreign law or restrictions even those promoted by the UN.

Since I like checklists I will try to answer your questions in some kind of order.

Problem solving. When presented with a problem Conservatives try to solve it using known facts and reason. Progressives tend to use spending and regulation. I have never witnessed a Progressive try to solve a problem (Or perceived problem) in any other way than raising taxes or sponsoring legislation that further truncates our individual rights.

Control. Progressives seem to love control, either being in control or being controlled in every aspect of life. They want to tell or be told what people can own, how far people can succeed in life, what people can think, what people can eat, what people can drive, and lets not forget what people should do with the very money they earn. In that last one Progressives are content to confiscate wealth through taxes for redistribution to their liking. Conservative just want to be left alone. We want to keep most of what we earn, we want to enjoy our enumerated rights unfettered by social pressure or governmental overreach. We would like government to literally get the Hell out of our lives.

Lack of tolerance. When a progressive gets an idea they believe it to be so good that it must be shared with (Inflicted upon) others even at the point of a governmental bayonet. Socialism for instance, also limiting 2ND Amendment rights, private property rights, etc. Conservatives don't care what you want to do as long as we are left alone to do what we want to do. If you don't like guns, fine, don't own one. If you want to be a socialist fine, get fifty of your closest friends and create a commune, I wish you luck. Do what ever you like, just leave me and my rights alone.

Happiness. Conservatives seem to be relatively happy. Progressives aren't happy unless they are angry or upset about a situation that either happened over 100 years ago or is an isolated incident, or is just something with which they don't agree. Progressives aren't always right but they are always certain. In that pseudo certitude they are willing to trample any and all rights. Individuals be damned the cause is all.

The US is always wrong. No matter the issue Progressives will unerringly take the side of anything that goes against the US. Progressives will support despots, terrorist groups, rouge nations, and criminal politicians as long as those support the inherent anti US sentiment of the hard left. Conservatives acknowledge that the US makes mistakes, sometimes hideous mistakes but at our core we are generally damn good. For example, if Kamala had won you won't see too many Conservatives wanting to leave the US. We are Americans and will stay and fight to the last.

Equality. Progressive want an equality of outcome. A guarantee that all people will have the same success. They call this "Equity". Conservatives believe that equality means that all people will have a fair chance at success. That hard work, effort, and inventiveness will pay off. You can't ensure outcomes only starting points.

There are more but you get the idea. By the way, Progressives don't piss us off all that much, we just don't want you in charge.

[johndonneswife]

someone really should be talking about how difficult it is to plan a wedding - a gay wedding - when both of your families fucking suck

[13eyond13]

Are you okay? Some of your tags suggest that you are having a hard time, so I thought that maybe checking in might help. Sorry if I'm wrong.

Oh thanks, I am ok! I'm not sure which tags in particular. I find blogging about feelings therapeutic and also useful practice for me in articulating my feelings more (which was something I had a really hard time doing in the past because of being in toxic environments/relationships where expressing my own needs or feelings always either got me ridiculed or exploited or ignored). I don't mean to alarm people here though 😅 I try to take personal responsibility for my mental health and sometimes just like to vent or describe the things on my blog, I'm not necessarily making a cry for help as much as just trying to explain things to myself or to everybody else. But it's kind of you to care and thanks for checking 🧡

[covington-shenanigans]

so I'm on this app, Marco Polo, where you stay in touch with people by means of sending video messages. (there are probably other features, but I'm a free user, so I remain blissfully ignorant of them.) mostly I use it to annoy my sister. ("BITCH WHAT IF I GOT A PHALLOPLASTY AND HAD A BABY SHOWER FOR MY DICK. WE COULD HAVE ZUCCHINI FRITTERS. DICK-SHAPED PASTA. BANANAS FOSTER. DO U SEE MY VISION")

anyway, during the Hell Year of 2020, I saw my childhood best friend (let's call her Lee) was on this app. and like.

when I say "my childhood best friend", I mean the Weird Girl next door, who saw the Weird Girl that I was. I mean the girl I played with from age five until just shy of eleven, when my family moved away. I mean the girl I played with every day, for hours and hours, making up all kinds of elaborate scenarios involving our menagerie of stuffed animals. there were multiple overlapping, soap opera-style plotlines that lasted for years. there was drama. heartbreak. glory. she was the first friend I remember having. she was the first girl I ever loved, in my five-year-old way.

well, I hadn't seen Lee in at least 20 years and I was like, "holy shit! Lee!!!" so I sent her a "hey, nice to see you here, how you been" message.

again, this was late 2020.

now, I had been on T for a scant three months when I sent the first message, so I was a mere baby child, relative to the gruff manly man I am now. no beard, my voice had only started to wobble, still had tits... you get it. keep this in mind, it'll be important later.

I never heard back from her, but we're both Old, so I was like "eh, she probably forgot she installed the app" and forgot about it. we'd exchanged text messages at some point during the Hell Year, but like many people my age she doesn't really text, and I'm not calling anyone if I don't have to, so our communication had been sporadic, at best.

well. today I got a notification that she sent me a reply on Marco Polo.

I figured, well, she's replying to me 3.5 years late, but better late than never. I have ADHD and no friendship degradation mechanic, so I'm excited! yay! friend! :D

and then I remember. "...oh shit. she doesn't know I'm trans."

so. the thing is. I'm from Mississippi, which is. very very fucking conservative. I know Lee grew up Southern Baptist. I also know she's still living in the same town where we grew up and where she eventually graduated from high school and college. last I checked she was still attending the same Southern Baptist church where she grew up and her remaining living parent is still living in Lee's childhood home.

so this is either going to be Fine or it's going to be a disaster. lol.

in thinking it through, I figure either she's seen my updated profile pic, where I have the beard etc., or she hasn't. so either she's going to acknowledge this change or she isn't. okay. these are the possibilities. so I watch the message.

...the secret third option is... she seems to not realize when I sent the message? "sorry, I missed this when I was at work!" girl. what? I mean, you probably did miss it while you were at work... three and a half years ago. possibly she meant to reply to someone else and got me instead?

whatever. who knows. doesn't matter.

because I have the opportunity to do the funniest fucking thing in the world now

[j2hoes]

Eshay Baby. (Anthony Vaughn x Chook's Sister Reader)

Word Count: 5.8K

Y/N Cooper and Anthony Vaughn had a complicated relationship, which becomes even more complex following the reveal of the incest map.

WARNING: This work is not intended for those under the age of eighteen as it does have mature content. This story deals with alcohol, sexual content, drugs, explicit language, violence, death and triggering topics such as sexual assault and abuse.

A/N: I really hope you enjoy this fic as much as I do, I am a sucker for an ex's to lovers trope! This will be an ongoing series with each chapter correlating to a different episode! Love you! x

Fuck you Monday.

I am not a bad person. At least, I don’t believe I am. Research suggests that people become products of their environments, in fact, there’s an entire theory surrounding the self-fulfilling prophecy which suggests that if environmental factors such as the people and community surrounding you believe you will turn out a certain way, you will. It’s something to do with the phrase ‘if that’s what people think I am, then that’s what I will be.’ For as long as I’ve been alive, I have done my best to combat this. Not wanting to prove the countless social workers, mental health professionals, teachers and police correct. I am a good person.

My brother on the other hand, that’s slightly more complicated. He’s four years older than me, he understands and remembers more of our childhood than I do. It’s not something that we often talk about, him opting to avoid the subject entirely not wanting to reminisce on the past. His words not mine. I don’t blame him for this, nothing I can remember is positive. Being passed from one distant relative to the next, each being significantly worse than the last. Until one day we ended up at the home. I can only imagine what other horrors he may remember.

Hence why I stated it’s complicated, everything he does, he does for us. That’s the way it’s always been. Not once has he failed to protect me, agreeing to be my legal guardian the moment he turned eighteen in order to remove me from the clutches of any government mandated home. I’ll forever be grateful to him for that, and so I could never argue that he isn’t a selfless man. Not when it comes to family.

Others may disagree with me, believing he is cruel, callous and cold. Inherently evil is a term that has been used to describe him many times before. I’ll be the first to admit that there are times when I don’t agree with his actions. However, I don’t believe this defines him as a person. People are so complex and have many different layers that somebody cannot be defined by one small thing. So would I say he’s a good person? No, but I also wouldn’t say he’s a bad person. He’s just different.

“Your brother said to tell you he’s setting off in ten minutes so to make sure you’re ready.”

The soft voice at my doorway startles me, too focused on applying my lipgloss to notice the boy standing in the doorway. As I glance up at him through my mirror, I’m hit by the unmistakable stench of marijuana that seems to flood the room. My nose scrunches, slightly disgusted by the thought of my brother and his friends getting high in the living room at eight am on a monday morning. Continuing to apply multiple layers of the shimmery pink gloss, I notice the figure is still standing in my doorway, his back turned to me, stance appearing almost awkward as he scratches the back of his head nervously.

“Cash you can come in.”

He turns to face me, hesitantly stepping through the threshold into my bedroom with a small smile on his face. Closing the old wooden door behind him, only to almost be knocked out by the numerous bags I have hung up on the back of my door.

“That’s a lot of bags.” He comments, resulting in a small laugh from me due to him stating the obvious.

Beginning to gather my textbooks, notebooks and any other supplies I may need for school, I notice Cash standing silently simply observing my bedroom. It’s a stark contrast to the rest of the house. Walls painted a burnt amber with photos and posters plastered up anywhere I could reach. Crocheted blankets are thrown over every piece of furniture in the room and my window stays wide open, allowing the bright morning light to flood the room, the gentle breeze blowing just enough to allow a melodic hum to reverberate through my wind chime.

“Your bedroom is nice. It’s homely.” Cash tells me, waiting patiently as I continue to throw things into my bag.

“Not a chance in hell was I letting Chook decorate my bedroom with graffiti.” I laugh, throwing my chunky black cardigan over my shoulders before the eshay opens the door for me, being the gentleman that he is and allowing me to exit first. “There’s another spray paint to cover a skatepark in here as it is.”

My finger traces one of the many swirls of blue spray paint that lines the hallway as I speak, eliciting a chuckle from the boy that follows behind me. Entering the lounge, I find Jayden and Tilla sprawled out on the sofa, eyes glazed over and it’s clear that they’re both stoned out of their minds. Chook sits on the armchair that he’s claimed as his own, nobody else dares to sit there, knowing it’s his seat. He’s playing with the car keys in his hands, eyes fixed on the unconscious man laid out at his feet. Occasionally nudging him with his foot in an attempt to humor himself.

“Who’s that?” I question, capturing my brother’s attention for the first time since we set foot in the lounge.

“Fuck knows brah, couldn’t handle his drinks though clearly.”

With one last surprisingly gentle kick to the stomach, Chook rises from the chair. Ruffling my hair as he strolls past me and towards the front door, much to my annoyance. I sigh quietly, swiftly smoothing my hair down, to which Cash does his best to muffle his laugh as we follow my brother out the door. Stepping over yet another unconscious man as we leave the house.

Hartley High is only a twenty minute drive, most of which I spend in silence, trying my best to enjoy the drum and bass that erupts out of the speakers as we fly down the streets of Sydney. Chook was never one for following the speed limit, no matter how many times I lectured him on the importance of driving safely.

We pull into the car park outside of school with an ear piercing screech, slamming to a halt directly outside the gates, the unnecessary amount of noise causes many students to look in our direction. Many whispering to their friends as they gawk at us, I do my best to keep my head down as I clamber out of the vehicle. Embarrassed by the commotion Chook has caused.

“Don’t get expelled!” Chook yells out of the car window as Cash and I trudge reluctantly towards the quad. Not wanting to dignify him with a response, I simply throw my middle finger up behind me, hearing his raucous laughter followed by the screech of his tires on the asphalt once again.

“You reckon this year will be any better?” Cash inquires, knuckles white due to how tight he is clenching the strap of his fanny pack that is thrown over his shoulder. He’s nervous. Contrary to what people believe, Cash is a sweet boy. He’s so loving, caring, considerate and kind, he has a lot to offer the world we live in. Nobody seems to see this though. Believing Cash is a good for nothing eshay that will make nothing of himself upon leaving school, most likely following in the footsteps of his mother and ending up in prison. Even he himself believes this.

“I don’t know mate, maybe for you, I mean you technically don’t even need to be here. I don’t have a choice unfortunately.”

“Yeah but that just means you’re stuck with me for another year kiddo.”

“I am literally a year younger than you.” I sulk, giving him a gentle shove in order to express my annoyance. “Besides, you wouldn’t have screwed me if you saw me as a kid.”

Cash stops in his tracks completely, I smirk, pleased that I’ve rendered him completely speechless and offer him a quick wink from over my shoulder as he jogs to catch up to me. We agreed to never speak of it. A one night hook up when we were both heavily under the influence of certain illegal substances. My heart was in pieces following the breakdown of mine and a particular church going brunette’s secret relationship. If you could even call it a relationship, we never exactly labeled anything, nor made anything public. However, it felt as though my heart had shattered, I’d never experienced anything like that before. Not even the pain of my childhood compared to this.

One thing led to another and Cash and I were stumbling into bed together. Both of us knew it was wrong, Chook would kill Cash if he ever found out. Fortunately it only happened once and while I wouldn’t say that I regret it, it did definitely put a strain on our friendship for a while. Mostly due to him being terrified of me telling my brother.

Remembering the memory, I can’t help but smile to myself. Even if it was just for that one night, Cash made me feel whole again. Like I was worthy of finding love. The dopamine from the positive recollection seems to crash like a wave over my body, uplifting my mood drastically despite heading into what is ultimately prison for the next seven hours. That is until I catch a glimpse of the one person I was hoping to avoid completely for the next year.

Anthony Vaughn.

“Oi there’s a fully gacked sex map in the old stairwell.” Shouts from the redheaded girl catch my attention and I’m grateful to be provided a distraction. “It’s called the incest map!”

Students from all directions flock together in a sprint towards the old stairwell. The scene could be described as something out of a nature documentary when a pack of wild animals chase after their prey together. It’s wild and chaotic, completely undignified. So, with a quick glance at one another, Cash and I also follow the crowd, taking off in a run to identify what a ‘sex map’ truly is, and why it is so interesting that the entirety of our school is racing at full speed just to catch a glimpse.

I thank my lucky stars that I’m not claustrophobic when I eventually manage to squeeze my way through the horde of students. Names are scrawled in huge letters across the wall, each with different lines and symbols linking one to another. There’s a key chart to the left hand side and it’s safe to say nobody’s sexual endeavours were safe due to how graphic the key chart was.

The usual suspects are on the map, those who aren’t quiet about their partaking in hookup culture, such as Darren and Dusty. Those in relationships are also unsurprising, for example Missy and Sasha are of course linked, having only just recently broken up. Other names however do manage to shock me, for one I was not expecting to see Quinni’s name on the map, nor was I expecting Cash. Following the three lines connected to his name, it’s only then that I realize in bright red letters accompanied by a pair of devil horns, is my name.

Y/N - hooked up - Cash. Y/N - blowie - Spider. Y/N - fucked - Ant. Y/N - destined - Ant.

With each passing second it feels like my heart has stopped, secrets revealed to the world that were supposed to never see the light of day. How did anybody know about this? Sure, Spider may have blabbed about me giving him a blowjob, most likely bragging to his two best mates about it as though I’m his latest conquest. However, what happened between Cash and I, as well as Ant and I was meant to be kept quiet.

With trembling hands, I begin to anxiously scan the room, looking for any sign that somebody other than myself may have noticed my name. Catching the eye of the brunette, who stands timidly between Dusty and Spider, I discern that he is just as concerned as I am. Fearful of the consequences of this coming out.

“Yo Ant, you fucked the eshay’s sister? Nice one bro.” Dusty shouts, clapping his friend on the back which only leads to the red blush on his face to creep to an even deeper crimson.

“You got further with her than I ever did.” Spider comments, a mischievous smirk spread across his lips. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Ant simply lowers his head, eyes focusing on his shoes which appear to be a lot more interesting than the map in front of him. I can’t lie and say it doesn’t hurt that he won’t speak about us, but at the same time, I understand. With mates like his, I would want to keep things hidden from them too, especially if this is how they react. Not to mention his overly religious family upbringing and the overwhelming amount of shame he is afraid of bringing on his family.

“Hey, you okay?” Cash whispers, hand faintly grazing mine in a subtle attempt to offer his support.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing.” Offering the mullet wearing boy a forced smile, trying to cover up the embarrassment of suddenly being the center of attention.

Continuing to stare at the map in disbelief, only the shouts of rowdy teenagers can be heard as they find more and more connections on the map that they hadn’t seen upon their first inspection. A few even run out in tears, the map ruining many people’s relationships, outing people and just causing pure humiliation for everybody that has their name scribbled across the wall.

“Hey, do you reckon if we ask real nice, Y/N will let us double dick her?” Spider asks Ant obnoxiously loud, nudging him as they both look over in my direction. Humorless expression evident on my face. “What, we’ve both already been there.”

Spider’s comment is directed to me, with him and Dusty both finding the utmost amusement in the entire situation. Ant, on the other hand, looks as though he wants the floor to swallow him whole, unable to make eye contact with me.

“Are you sure you’d be able to get it up? You and I both know how difficult it was for you last time and that was just for a blowie.” Without giving Spider a chance to respond, I’m pushing through the sea of teenagers, who are now staring eagle eyed between the blonde boy and myself. Invested in the very minor argument between us, a chorus of laughter can be heard at Spider’s expense. Even Dusty seems to take amusement in the mortification of his friend. As I brush past the trio, it’s hard to ignore the self-consciousness on their leader’s face. I can’t help but feel a small sense of pride, knowing that my comment really got under his skin. Eyes trailing over each of the guys, I notice that Ant is already looking at me, a regretful look on his face.

Unlike his two mates, Ant has always been the more caring of the three. Whilst still partaking, somewhat reluctantly, in the shenanigans that the other boys rope him into, he has always had more of a guilty consciousness. Often disclosing the amount of regret and guilt he felt due to some of their actions. Though, he made me swear that information to secrecy, not wanting the boys to view him as weaker. It’s one thing we regularly argued about, with him being unable to fathom the idea that having morals and a consciousness doesn’t make you any less of a man.

The deafening shrill of the school bell sounds whilst I stomp across the quad, alerting me of the fact that I should be headed towards the gym for the mandatory back to school assembly. Yet, I can’t bring myself to face it. Wanting to avoid Spider for a little while longer while I can in the hopes of steering clear of another confrontation. Half an hour into the new school year and I’m already wagging, what a great start.

Without turning to look back, I can hear the shuffle of feet as everybody begins to pile out of the old stairwell. Heading into the main school building, still, I tread on. Doing my best to sneak behind the science block and finding solace in the old dunnies that were closed off to students back in the nineties. Technically, nobody is supposed to be back here, I’m risking detention just by being here, though Cash and I continue to use it as a safe space to hide from the world whenever we need peace.

Rummaging through my bag, I’m quick to find the box of Marlboro Gold’s that I always keep stashed at the bottom, just on the odd occasion that I do feel the urge to smoke. It used to be a rare occurrence, these days, unfortunately it seems to be more of a recurring problem. I’ve hidden the habit from just about everyone in my life, not that Chook would care, he’s done far worse that I ever have. I just don't want people to perceive me as any less that they do now, I know smoking is a dirty horrible habit and yet I can’t seem to quit. So, as I spark my lighter, inhaling the toxic fumes, I begin to take comfort in the calm that fills my body from the lungs outward.

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t think anyone was gonna be in here.”

My eyes sweep up from the ground, and if the baggy jeans and tie dyed jumper weren’t enough of a give away as to who stood before me the cross chain hanging from his neck certainly did. It’s the first time he’s actually spoken to me directly since the night everything came crumbling down eight weeks ago. When my eyes lock with his, I can’t help but take in his beauty as if it’s the first time I’ve ever seen him and before I can react the cigarette is falling out of my fingers.

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

He points to the ciggie that is now beginning to burn out on the concrete floor. With an awkward laugh, I quickly pick it up, stubbing it out on the wall, humiliated that he caught me.

“I don’t really,” Playing with the ends of my hair as I desperately try to think of an excuse that doesn’t truly reveal the extent of my habit.

“Just needed to destress after this morning.”

“Yeah, crazy morning, right?” Ant asks, leaning against the doorframe as he attempts to make small talk with me. “Actually, do you have another one of those?”

With raised eyebrows I nod swiftly, pulling the pack out of my bag and offering them to him along with my lighter. He lights his and I do the same, after all I didn’t exactly get to finish the first one on account of dropping it on the ground.

“You wagging assembly too?”

My voice is quiet, unsure on whether he actually wants me to make conversation with him or he’d prefer to sit in silence. Despite my best attempts to not make it obvious, I watch as he takes a drag from the ciggie, allowing the smoke to delicately fall from his lips. It’s awkward not knowing where I stand with him, sure, what happened was a while ago now and I’d assumed we’d both moved on but that doesn’t make the entire situation any less awkward.

“Couldn’t face it, Spider and Dusty wouldn’t stop hounding me for all the details and I just needed some space.” Ant admits, picking at the skin around his fingers between drags.

“Oh right, I can leave if you want some space, I don’t mind.”

Grabbing my bag and hauling myself off the window ledge, I throw the end of my ciggie to the ground, ready to leave. That is until his hand grabs mine gently, his touch soft as I’m forced to stop and look at him.

“No, stay. You should stay.”

Ant offers me a small smile before letting go of my hand, the touch so fleeting and yet it still manages to make my heart flutter even just the tiniest bit. Sitting beside him on the cold, mucky floor, not minding the dirt if it means that Ant and I are one step closer to mending our friendship. Truthfully, I miss him. I miss him as a friend more so than anything. Our bond was one that you don’t find much in life, one that others struggle to comprehend.

“I owe you an apology.” His words catch me off guard, unaware that he felt the need to apologize to me, let alone, doing so on the first day back at school. Granted it hasn’t been any ordinary first day back. “I was a complete dickhead to you and you didn’t deserve it-”

“Ant you don’t need to explain yourself.”

“Nah, I do. I think I knew I couldn’t be the guy you deserved, and I got scared. It’s no excuse, I know that. Just believe me, I didn’t mean any of the stuff I said to you that night, I was so pissed, honestly, I hardly remember any of it. All I know is I woke up with the worst hangover of my life and you weren’t there.” He stops for a moment, collecting his thoughts with furrowed eyebrows, trying his best to put what he wants to say into words. “You weren’t there and then I saw the messages. Y/N, I’m so sorry. I didn’t ever want to hurt you.”

He’s staring at me intently, eyes trying to find any glimmer of emotion on my face in an attempt to determine what I’m thinking. Opening my mouth to respond, I find myself rendered completely speechless. As I focus on Ant, I can see the worry in his eyes. Uneasy as to what I may have to say.

“Shit, sorry, I’m no good with words, I-”

“Stop talking Ant.” I mumble, putting an end to his rant before he can even properly begin. “Cheers for the apology, it means a lot.”

“Do you hate me?” The question is blurted out before he can stop himself. Shocking even himself judging by the way his widened followed by his head falling to his hands.

“I could never hate you. You should know that.” I tell him, his whole body instantly less tense as the relief floods through him. “I’ve actually really missed my friend. We should’ve never complicated things.”

I almost miss it, but there’s a flash of pain in the browns of his eyes as I say those last words, though he nods in agreement. The silence that follows is no longer awkward, instead it’s tranquil. Plainly embracing the warmth of the early morning sun in one another’s presence feels relaxing compared to the events that unfolded prior. Blissfully enjoying the reblossoming of our once torn apart friendship.

“If it isn’t Anthony Vaughn and Y/N Y/LN. You’ve not even been back a day and you’re already wagging.” Ms Woods’ tone is extremely unimpressed as she addresses us, evidently not happy that we’re getting into trouble this quickly. Ant and I can’t help but hold in matching mischievous grins. “My office now!”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------- “So what were you and Ant doing in the dunnies together?” Cash mumbles the minute my brother is out of earshot and inside Harry’s diner, no doubt trying to chat up all the girls who are trying to eat their chippies in peace.

Slapping him straight in the chest, my eyes flicker towards the door of the diner, wary that Chook will pop out at any second and overhear our conversation. He feigns annoyance, dramatically throwing his hand up to his chest, acting as if I’ve just shot him.

“Oh my god, nothing!”

“I saw your names on the map Y/N, can you blame me for thinking you were trying to cop a root?”

“Shut the fuck up! Nothing happened okay?” I whisper as aggressively as I can, playing with the hem of my pinstripe mini dress in the hopes that I can distract myself from this conversation.

“I dunno, Amerie seemed to think you two were destined.”

“Who’s destined?”

Chook’s voice alarms me, head snapping up to spot the slightly older, male version of myself walking only mere feet away from Cash and I. His casual demeanor suggests he hasn’t overheard the rest of our conversation for which I’m thankful. Locking eyes with Cash, I shake my head in the subtlest way possible so he knows not to say a word. If Chook found out about the map, not only would I be dead, but Cash as well, so it’s in the best interest of both of us not to open our mouths about yesterday’s events.

“Spider and his imaginary girlfriend. That boy is gonna be in a serious relationship with his hand for the foreseeable future.” The lie slips off my tongue so easily that it’s rather concerning. Chook doesn’t question me, though why would he? I learned from the best.

“Sure. You prepared for the cemetery tonight kid?” Chook asks Cash, not even bothering to look up at him as he stashes the boot of the car with countless amounts of junk food he had just collected from Harry’s. “Thank god you stayed at school for another year, since this little bitch didn’t wanna take over as our connect.”

“My bad that I didn’t wanna be running around, pushing drugs for you for the rest of my school life.” I argue, Chook pulling faces as I speak in response. Deciding that this is an argument not worth having today, after all, it’s one we’ve had many times before.

“Yeah, all good brah.” Cash chimes in, answering Chook’s question to put an end to our petty argument before we can take it even further. Before we can get physically violent, even if it is only in a playful manner.

“You two best get going hey, maximize profit and all that.”

Cash doesn’t need any further instruction, hopping on his motorbike after passing me his fanny pack to store in the bag on the back. Something he always does in order to ensure that all his supply is kept perfectly safe while he drives. I’d consider it smart if I didn’t know it was drugs he was keeping safe. Chook jumps in his car, nodding in our direction as he flies out of the car park with Jayden and Tilla shouting out of the window at us. I can’t help but smile at their antics.

Cash offers me a hand on to the back of his bike, hiking my tiny dress up even further so that I can throw my leg over the vehicle. Wrapping my arms around his waist tightly, he watches in his mirror for me to nod before taking off. A habit he picked up when he first began to drive me around on what I like to call his ‘death trap’.

Dance music is belting from the many speakers when we arrive at the cemetery, a fire pit glowing in the middle of the makeshift dance floor as people crowd around it. The sun is already setting as we arrive, illuminating the party in a way that looks angelic. Upon reaching one of the many piles of drinks, it’s hard to notice Amerie dancing crazily, along with Darren, Quinni and Malachai. I point it out to Cash, the pair of us surprised that she has any friends left considering her actions.

Parting ways with the eshay I find taking a swig from one of the numerous vodka bottles before grabbing a bottle of bus, watching as Cash immediately begins to get to work, Sasha instantly running over to him the moment she spots him alone. Rolling my eyes, I plant myself further away from the party, sat with my back against one of the decrepit headstones.

I’ve always been more of an introvert. Opting to be a wallflower and observe rather than be the center of attention, unlike my fellow classmates who all seem to thrive when the spotlight is on them. I hate Amerie for forcing me into that spotlight.

Between sips of the slightly warm lager, I begin to roll myself a joint, figuring I may as well attempt to have a good time at the party. Even if it isn’t my ideal Tuesday night. I couldn’t let Cash come on his own though, not when he’s working for my brother.

“You are a bad girl Y/N Y/L/N.” Ant’s voice shouts from a short distance away, strolling towards me with a cheeky grin slapped across his face. “What is this? The second time I’ve caught you smoking now?”

“Right well I was just about to offer to share this with you but I guess not now.” I joke, lighting it up as Ant flops down beside me. “And technically, I haven’t even smoked this yet so you’ve only caught me once.”

“It totally counts!” Ant argues, waiting patiently as I take a couple of puffs before handing him the joint. “How’d your brother take it when he found out about the map?”

“You’re safe if that’s what you’re asking. I haven’t told him and he’s not the type of bloke that answers the phone when Woodsy rings.” He hands the joint back to me, fingers brushing mine tenderly. “Your mum?

“Not great. Amerie really fucked things up for me, I have to go to church three more times a week now, all because of one wristy and well you know.”

“Did you tell her the truth about us?” I inquire, wondering if he did come clean completely about our situationship of sorts.

“Nah, I told her it was just the once.” He admits, glancing at me sheepishly, almost embarrassed to recount the memory. “Figured that was better than telling her the truth. I may have also turned her that you were my girlfriend at the time, you know, to kind of make it better. Not that she approves of premarital sex or anything and I know we didn’t label what we were but it sounded better in the moment. I hope that’s okay.”

“Lying to your mother Anthony, that’s not very christian of you!” I gasp, to which he snatches the joint back out of my hand in retaliation, laughing along with me.

“Fuck yourself.” Ant chuckles, blowing the smoke directly in my face without any warning, causing me to descend into a fit of coughs.

“What’s the deal with you and Cash anyway? You two a thing now?” Ant’s not looking up at me when he speaks, all his attention fixated on the crowd of teenagers partying in the distance. Anxiously pulling blades of grass from the ground beneath me, I continue to gaze at him, a sigh falling from my lips as I had hoped he hadn’t noticed the line between Cash and my name. It was inevitable that it was going to come up, I had just hoped it would be something that people skirted around, not asking any direct questions.

“Nah.” The word is faint, shaking my head, my eyes fall on the boy in question, completely unaware that we are speaking about him as he stands in conversation with Darren. “We’re just mates.”

The boy nods besides me though I can tell he doesn’t truly believe me, still unable to look in my direction. Nudging him slightly, I give a small smile when he does hesitantly face me. “We hooked up once a few weeks ago, I was pretty much black out and he was just there. It was a fucking stupid decision.”

“Just mates though?” Ant asks, more of a rhetorical question, as if to reassure himself, much to my confusion as I can’t see why it would matter to him whether we were just mates or not. “Okay but who was better?”

Bloodshot eyes and a lazy smile indicate to me that the joint has hit him quicker than either of us expected. Warm blush present on his cheeks, his head tipped back against the headstone , gazing up at the stars that begin to light up the late summer skies.

“You’re so stoned.” I comment, completely dodging the question in the hopes that he’s too high to remember what he had even asked.

“Just like old times, yeah.”

Ant’s fingers brush over my hand just barely, the touch so slight that I wouldn’t have felt it had I not been looking in that direction. Thumb softly tracing circles across the back of my palm, skin feeling as though its been set alight with every small movement. Turning my head, I find Ant already staring at me, mouth curved upwards into a slight smile.

“I wish I never cooked it with you.”

Despite knowing that he is as high as a kite, his words still manage to catch me off guard. Forcing me to pull away, leaning back to take him in properly. From his somber expression to the deep intensity with which he looks at me, awaiting a reaction.

“Cops!” Before I can respond, shouts from the party grab my attention. Head spinning round to see the chaos unfolding, teenagers running in every direction, some scream, whilst others laugh. “Cops! The cops are coming!”

“Oh shit.”

Discarding the bottle I had been nursing, I hop to my feet within seconds, Ant, who now looks surprisingly sober, does the same. Without hesitation, he is grabbing my hand before we take off in a sprint, running in the opposite direction of the flashing lights and sirens that are rolling up to the gatho. As the crowds disperse, I find myself scanning through the seas of people, looking for a certain eshay that would get into a lot of trouble, should he be caught. “Where’s Cash?” Voice breathy, I force Ant and I to a halt, searching my entire field of vision for any sign of him, head spinning so fast that I’m shocked I didn’t give myself vertigo. “Ant, I can’t see him. Where’s Cash?”

“Y/N we need to go.”

With his free hand, Ant easily slides it around my waist, using all his strength to pry my feet from the pavement. Regardless of my unwillingness, I allow the boy to lead us away from the party. Not wanting to run the risk of getting caught, so instead I recite prayers in my head that Cash also hasn’t been caught.

Upon reaching the locked gate, Ant wastes no time in easily pushing me up so that I can scramble over the metal. He does so with ease, a proud display of his strength and it makes me blush. Reminiscing on the ways he used that strength before.

Running hand in hand down the noiseless streets of Sydney, I find myself giggling at tonight’s events. The prospect of an exciting, if slightly chaotic year eleven rises upon the horizon and I can’t help but display my enthusiasm at seeing where the next few months take me. (Hopefully, with Ant by my side, but nobody needs to know that.)

[curiouslilbird]

Western NC Is Not Okay

Cell service, phone lines, roads, and other infrastructure have all been damaged or destroyed, especially way up in the highest elevations.

Loved ones who live here may or may not be able to send or receive messages.

Many places out here are unrecognizable from what they looked like just a few days ago.

Most families are without power, and panic buying of food and fuel have already started.

Many restaurants and grocery stores are either running out of food, are without power themselves, or have been damaged too much to function.

Many are fleeing east to Gastonia, Charlotte, and further toward the coast, where power is more stable and food is at least a bit more reachable.

Out where I am, about an hour west of Gastonia, I was lucky to find a friend with power so I can use my CPAP and charge my phone. Lots of people like me are relying on cell phones as their sole source of communication, but with cell towers messed up and hilly terrain, even that is spotty at best.

I am doing better than most. My house is undamaged as of now, our cars work, and I am in a safe shelter with power, but even so, I am still worried about being able to access food and gas once our small supplies are gone. We're currently limiting driving to emergency measures only, but here in the south, public transit is simply not a thing...the closest train station, for instance, is an hour away in Gastonia. Biking is also not safe with all the downed trees and power lines, plus just the sheer distance between places and the lack of bike lanes and sidewalks in general.

As car and gas dependent as we all are, not being able to buy gas anywhere reasonably close is a huge problem. I sure hope deliveries of gas can be made to this area soon, because that makes finding food much easier. I don't have any problem driving the 50-60 miles to Charlotte to find food, but it will become an issue if I sit in heavy traffic and lose my little supply of fuel that way.

Honestly I know I personally underprepared for this storm, but I also had no idea how bad our infrastructure is without power and gas. Everything's electronic and now stores have had to go back to cash only...which meant we drove 2 hours around yesterday trying to find a working ATM and/or a store that took cards. At least people are being fairly gracious in stores so far, but desperation can quickly change that.

So, yeah...WNC is not okay, and because of the conditions, a lot of people can't even get the word out. I'm one of the lucky ones with a working cell signal and relative peace to be able to communicate, and I have the hope of being able to go home to an undamaged home within days. (I don't know yet how vain that hope is....both weather flood warnings and power outage advisories keep being pushed back.)

In any case, travel to or through WNC in the next few days/weeks/months is basically a no-go, especially for places like Asheville and Boone. Down the mountain where we are, things are a bit better here, but it's still a developing situation. Hoping for the best. 💞💔💞

[anashins]

Could we get a ocxJaehyun where he’s kinda insecure cos oc doesn’t show she’s jealous (just not a situation where he tries to make her jealous on purpose pls🥺) and when he confronts her about it she’s like “you have no idea how jealous I am, I mean look at yourself 😭😭😭” so the rest of the story may be smth fluffy like healthy communication or just smut lmao.

Pls <3

Pairing: Jaehyun x You

Genre: light angst, fluff, romance, a bit suggestive in the end

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: After posting a picture of you and your male best friend, your boyfriend turns very jealous. After all, you're always so casual about his life, so he assumes the reason behind is that you don't find him attractive and wait for someone better to come around. If only he knew.

A/N: Thank you for requesting! I went through this 2 days ago with my bf, this hit very close to home haha

“Having dinner with my best friend in the whole wide world!”

Jaehyun read the caption on your Instagram story post over and over again while his stomach dropped in the process.

The fact that the photo you had posted did not only show food, but a guy having his arm around your shoulder while you were leaning close to him put him into a rage. And his members were his target. 

Jaehyun tossed his phone back into his bag and returned to the others who were currently learning a new choreography. By the change of his facial expression alone, Taeyong could tell that his mood had entirely shifted within an instant - something that unfortunately happened too many times lately.

“What’s wrong?”

he asked with his serious leader-voice, having predicted the outcome of this situation already and wanting to prevent it at all cost. There was no way Jaehyun would disturb the entire dance practice with his jealous mood again.

“Nothing.”

How he stood there though, with the corners of his lips facing downwards, eyes dark and arms folded across his chest, now everyone was alarmed and the leader had to look over their friendship for once and put Jaehyun in his place. Again.

“If it’s nothing, then act like it. We have a concert coming up,” Taeyong addressed him. “Otherwise I will have to send you away.”

Jaehyun just grumbled something, but remained silent. His friends rather had him silent than taking it out on everyone though, which was why nobody talked to him for the remaining hours again.

When practice was over, Taeyong walked up to him and took him aside.

“I’m telling you this not only as your leader anymore, but as your friend too, okay? Talk it out with her. Either that or you won’t be allowed on your phone during practice, Jaehyun. I’m serious. Everytime something like this happens, your mood is eating you up and everyone feels it. You can’t concentrate, you can’t memorize the moves, you cannot work with the others. This has to end.”

“I’m sorry.” Jaehyun dropped his head along with his shoulders, and Taeyong felt guilty, but he had to do what he was supposed to do. 

He patted his friend’s back. “It’ll be fine.” And with a grin, he added, “I mean, look at you. You’re Jeong Jaehyun. You don’t have any rivals.”

-

“Hey, how was your day?” you asked Jaehyun after entering his apartment.

You were in a relatively good mood as you had had a great day with your best friend who was visiting the country for a month, and since he was living abroad the majority of the time, you tried spending so much with each other as possible.

The possibility of it irking Jaehyun had only crossed your mind when he started commenting on the photos you posted kind of snarky like “Oh, you’re out together again today?”, but since he hadn’t said anything directly, you had just brushed this feeling off.

Today though, he didn’t look good at all, it was written all over his face, no matter how hard he tried to conceal it with a fake smile that he usually reserved for cringy fancalls. 

“Are you okay?” you asked when you followed him into the living room. “You can tell me, you know?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. It’s just…” He took a deep breather. “I haven’t heard from you all day.” 

“I’m sorry, I was busy. You know I’m rarely on my phone when I'm with people. I don’t want them to feel like I prioritize anything else over my time with them.”

He shrugged. “But there is always enough time to post on your Instagram story.”

Jaehyun could have bitten into his own tongue as he was usually very composed, but before he could redeem himself, you had already put the puzzle pieces together. 

He was jealous.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I’m just-’”

You got on your tiptoes and cupped his face. “Jaehyun… please tell me exactly what’s wrong. You know there is nothing to worry about since he has a girlfriend too and that’s just how we are together. I always told you that.” 

He averted his eyes, but you remained yours. “You’re always so casual and excited about everything. You like all my posts, my stories, comment encouragingly and supportingly on them, no matter when and no matter with who. Even if I don’t find time to reply to you, even if something holds me back from returning you the same energy. Am I the only one who cares?”

“Care about what?”

“That someone might take you away from me.”

“Jaehyun…” You tilted your head. “Why would you think that?”

“Because you never reacted the same way as I. No matter where I am, what I do or what kind of videos and pictures pop up online. You never seem to be bothered, and yet here I am, not being able to return this feeling, because even when a guy looks at you, I want to get you out of his eyesight. Does it mean I’m just not that attractive in your eyes, so you’re not worried at all? I genuinely want to know.”

Your mouth stood open over the fact that your boyfriend, possibly almost every girl in your age range’s ideal type, was assuming you didn’t find him handsome. His perfect face, that graced screens, placards, phones and everyone could stare at whenever and how often they wanted. He thought he wasn’t attractive, because you didn’t show jealousy.

Of course you were jealous as hell.

You brushed with your thumbs over his cheeks, trying to ease him. “Every day, so many people get to see this handsome face and experience your kind character. Just look at yourself. Of course I’m jealous too. Sometimes, especially when you’re touring, they see you more often than I, and I get to backtrack everything online, what you’re doing and saying, after them, after strangers. And the things they write… I don’t want to see, but I cannot close my eyes. At times, the pain gets so unbearable that I have to log off and trust that you eventually call me and tell me about everything.”

Jaehyun frowned and his former dark mien shifted into a frown. “I didn’t know all that.”

“Of course you wouldn’t know, because would that benefit me in any way? No. I trust you and only you. Everyone else doesn’t matter. I don’t have any influence, so I try to distance myself from it. So, I’m sorry if you ever feel like I don’t find you attractive enough, because I don’t show it in that kind of way. It’s just… I will always get painfully reminded that so many other people feel that way too. And every single one of them would take you away from me in an instant if they ever get the opportunity.”

"Nobody will.”

“I know.”

Something inside Jaehyun cracked when he saw you being so honest and also so confident about it. So, you were feeling the same about the other, you just had different ways to express and cope with it. 

Jaehyun took your hand into his and kissed your palm. “I’m sorry for being so insecure sometimes and not having more faith. We love each other, we want to be with each other, I shouldn’t make you feel down with my problem. I should be more like you. It’s the healthier way. Please show me how.”

“Baby steps,” you told him and took his hand into yours. “But first, let me prove to you how attractive I find you.”

“Maybe it will take you more than one time to convince me.”

“That’s fine.”

[theladyofshalott1989]

 🎉 30,000 Reads on Like Moths to a Flame!!!

This morning, I hit 30,000 reads on Wattpad, Like Moths to a Flame's first home, so to speak. <3 When I started writing my series on Wattpad in March 2023, I had absolutely no idea where it would take me. In fact, I thought it was only going to be a one-shot. Silly me! In the past year and half, I'm learned so much about myself. It turns out I can write 3 whole books in that relatively short period of time, alongside a plethora of one-shots, a short story, and a spin-off fic. All combined, that amounts to over 300,000 words. (I'm including the currently unpublished word count for the third book, chapters of which I'm posting weekly.)

I've also gained so much, the best of which are the wonderful, creative, and kind friends I've met along the way. Even during the hard times, just thinking of you all (you know who you are!!!) can turn my day around. <3

Some other things I've gained:

1. My writing skills have improved considerably, despite the fact that I've been writing on and off since I was a pre-teen. Writing daily will do that (haha). 2. I finally have an AO3 account! I've been reading on AO3 for over a decade but I never had my own account. I finally joined last August and I'm so glad I did! The AO3 community is so wonderful and I'm thrilled to finally be contributing to it as a writer. 3. I rejoined Tumblr. In January of this year, a reader on Wattpad recommended I check out the HL community here, so I said, why the hell not? And now look where we are. :)

4. Fan art! Last summer, a wonderful reader reached out to me on Wattpad with fanart and it snowballed from there. Every piece I receive from an artist, even to this day, I tear up in the best way. I've never been able to create art in this way (believe me, I tried for years LOL), and I am in absolute awe of all you amazing artists that can do so. The fact that so many of you have been inspired by my work and have had the courage to reach out and share your beautiful creations with me is truly astounding. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. 5. Last, but certainly not least, HL rekindled my passion for writing. Prior to last spring, it had been years since I'd written something for myself. The moment I set pen to paper (yes, I wrote the first chapter in a notebook first because I wasn't sure if I was going to share it with the world!), I knew that was it for me. I was done-zo. I was sucked back into the world of writing. And I'll forever be grateful to the game for doing that for me. Finally, here's to Sebastian and Damien, who have taken on a life of their own. They're my boys, my brainrot, my children (besides my actual child - Sorry K, LOL - and yes, she may only be three but she could absolutely point out Sebastian in a lineup), and they'll hold a special place in my heart for all time.

Thanks for being on this journey with me! It's been a blast. :)

And just because, here's my Sebastien relationship playlist, which I think I've only shared here on Tumblr once before. It has a lot of fun, upbeat songs on it. Enjoy!

[guillemelgat]

I just started a new semester, and I'm finally getting the chance to take Malayalam, which I've been trying to do since my undergrad. This is obviously a very exciting development, and it's so delightful to be in a language class again for the first time in ages, but it's also been a very unique experience as far as language classes go. First of all, for me, who is generally used to having very odd personal connections to a language and being the overachieving linguist of the class. And second of all because it's just a very different experience to be in a class largely oriented towards heritage learners and people with some cultural familiarity.

There are five people in the class. Of those five, four have Malayalee family and have had some exposure to Malayalam throughout our lives; the last person is a native speaker of another non-Dravidian South Asian language. Of the four of us who are Malayalee, I'm basically the only one who didn't have a significant amount of Malayalam at home growing up. What this means is that we've spent very little time on the phonetics of the language, because everyone roughly knows how to pronounce it - something which wouldn't be true if there were non-South Asian in the class! (It was a bit comforting to hear all the other Malayalees struggling with aspirated consonants, which have constantly been the bane of my existence, and then to hear the instructor say that few people pronounce them right in spoken Malayalam anyways.) The instructor could ask us to say things on the first day, and the more fluent speakers could say them. There is already Malayalam being mixed in with the instruction. I'm sure by the end of the semester we'll be having extended conversations - especially since the two of us who don't speak have very concrete communicative desires for our outside lives.

It's also a very scary experience for me, personally. Or maybe scary isn't quite the right word, but I've always felt out of my depth in claiming Malayalee heritage - I've always felt that there were so many things which I didn't know which any normal Malayalee would. There is no evidence that this is true, at least insofar as that my cousins with two Malayalee parents have wildly varying experiences and I'm not actually that far outside the norm. In most American spaces, I will never be clocked as white, and most people usually immediately identify me as South Asian. Nonetheless, I know that when I visited Kerala this past December, I was decidedly foreign - to the two guys speaking in rapid-fire Malayalam on the flight from Qatar, to the person at the immigration counter in Trivandrum, even to my own relatives. Part of it is a mental block on my part, of feeling myself foreign and therefore never letting myself belong. Part of it is that I am, ultimately, American. But either way, in this class, I can feel that I'm the American in the room, even when I'm not, even when my pronunciation is just as good as the other Malayalees and there's nothing that's telling me I can't belong. I keep freezing up when asked to say real things, or when people speak to me, because there's some unreachable standard in my brain of Not A Real Malayalee, and everything feels fraught and fragile. So maybe this semester will be about overcoming that.

It's still strange being in a language class where the instructor, on the first day, can look at you all and say, "You know why you're here, you want to be here, we all have a shared experience." But it's also a beautiful thing in its own way, and I'm really looking forward to taking on a language in this way. I love the structure and the logic of language, the puzzle of putting it together, the beauty of making friends in it and watching shows in it and listening to songs in it - but as I get older I find myself really reflecting on what it means to learn and to know a language. And sometimes those barriers to learning and to knowing are only in our minds, not in our worlds. Language is communication and connection, and I hope that Malayalam serves me to these two ends, even as it sometimes feels like a trial by fire at each word.

[ivan-fyodorovich-k]

OK I slept on it and I think I need to stop playing guitar at my church and probably just stop attending entirely

The reasons for this are many, but I'm going to summarize the music thing in particular by saying that playing there has been one of the most bizarrely lonely experiences of my life

I've been playing there now eighteen months and this has been an issue pretty much the whole time. Most of them have known each other for years and are brilliant friends. It's always very difficult to break into a dynamic like that. I only make it worse, to be honest. I'm not super socially aggressive, I'm not good at small talk, and nothing about my disposition advertises that I am an approachable person. My attempts to fix this both in this specific context and in my life more generally have yielded...mixed results. Furthermore, I have gathered from eighteen months of listening to these peoples' conversations that we have essentially nothing in common.

This is compounded by the way the music itself is actually done. Everyone has in-ear monitors--sound-cancelling headphones connected to a personal sound mixing board. The strength of this approach is that everyone can create for themselves a mix that emphasizes the parts they most need to hear, and it makes it much easier to run sound for the auditorium because the sound engineers don't need to try to manage stage volume and try to balance the often irrational desires of the musicians with the demands of a good mix (e.g., if your guitar player is deaf and needs the guitar blasting on the stage, it's hard to make a good mix for people listening that doesn't feature the guitar blasting from the stage).

But this has the effect of hermetically sealing every person in the band from everyone else. You can only communicate with other people if you have a microphone and they have your microphone turned on. The experience is weirdly solipsistic. As you play, you simply have no idea what everyone else in the band is hearing. They might not hear you at all. You yourself have your own mix in your ears and you have no idea how what you are playing translates into the actual mix. You could, theoretically, be wailing away at full volume while the people at the sound board have switched you off. I don't sing so I don't have a microphone, so if I want to communicate with someone I need physically to walk to them and then gesticulate to get them to take out their headphone so that I can talk. This makes the relative cost of a social interaction fairly high, and so I am only going to do it if there is a problem that I cannot fix or endure.

This does not make for an environment of social cohesion. It's actually quite dehumanizing in a way. You are a widget who is plugged in and unplugged each week, it makes no real difference who else is there, and for all you know nothing you are playing is even being heard.

These are issues I have endured basically because I feel that I ought to perform some volunteer service for the church, and because they have continued to schedule me to play. But I strongly suspect that their opinion of my ability is rather diminishing, possibly because I can't devote as much time to practice as I could in the past because of my many and multiplying obligations elsewhere. But I would never know. Nobody really talks to me. I'm not really given notes about what I'm playing, which I take as a sign of indifference rather than approval. Sometimes people have said in the past that I played well, but not lately, perhaps because it no longer needs to be said, or perhaps because it is no longer true. I have no idea who if anyone even hears what I am doing. For all I know they have a recording playing and I am just up there to make it look like someone plays guitar, though I am not an especially good looking person so I'm not sure why I would need to be doing that.

I have also endured it up to now because life has been more endurable otherwise, and I felt like some suffering in the cause of volunteering was all right. But now that my life outside of this volunteering has become much less tolerable, volunteering itself has become much less tolerable. It's not clear to me I am adding anything other than a warm body, I am not especially enjoying the playing itself, and the experience of alienation and isolation that surrounds the experience--the awkward lack of small talk during setup and tear down, the awkward silence during the many down times--is positively punishing.

Yet further complications include that the music itself is extremely stupid, the theological content of the lyrics generally nonexistent, and my feelings about this brand of Protestantism increasingly sour.

Now the grown up thing to do is just to tell them that I cannot do it because I am so busy with other things. This relieves them of my existence in a way that spares them having ever to tell me that I am not good enough to be there or that I do not belong, and maintains the illusion of good will on both sides.

But the almost irresistible temptation is to say nothing and just vanish.

[sophieinwonderland]

What’s your opinion on whether or not hoardes belong in the plural community? Because I’m heard some very conflicting definitions of plurality when it comes to including or not including them. I’ve also heard conflicting opinions from within the POSIC+ hoarde community as to whether they even want to be considered plural.

I’m personally debating if I want to call myself plural. My experiences communicating with external voices of objects with their own opinions and emotions feels somewhat plural. When one of my objects is feeling a strong emotion (like Luna’s near-panic attack today) I feel the physical symptoms of that. But I am still the only person in my body. My objects have their own body. I do not switch. I will never face a lot of societal struggles systems face. When I called myself plural in the past, I felt like the ways in which my experiences are very different got erased. My experiences as a hoarde were erased. But singlet isn’t quite right either.

Should hoardes be considered their own thing? Something outside the plural/singlet binary? I’m asking you because you know a lot about plurality.

I have a pretty unique view which might be unpopular with some of the POSIC community. You might know this from my Manifestations post.

I believe that headmates can Manifest in 4-5 different ways, and that it's technically possible for any headmate who has achieved one to achieve another. (Barring aphantasia or similar conditions that could interfere with some Manifestation types.) Headmates Manifesting as physical objects is what I classify as Inhabitation.

The POSIC community seems divided among psychological and spiritual lines. To me, at least in regards to psychological interpretations of communications with POSIC companions, these are headmates who identify with a physical object and are mentally projected onto it.

I actually view it as a close relative to imposition. The biggest difference, IMO, between me as a former imaginary friend and a POSIC companion is that my original form was purely imaginary where a Companion's is tied to a physical object.

Other than that though, both would seem to be projections of the brain that are externalized.

If you want my honest opinion, I think POSIC companions are plural and that every one has the potential to learn to Manifest in other ways. Such as through an inner world, imposition... and yes, even fronting. It may take effort to learn these skills, just as it takes effort for many tulpas to learn to switch. But I believe it's technically possible.

If you take a purely spiritual view of your POSIC companions, then this may not apply. But I might refer to my Hiveminds and Multiplicity post. While this is intended mostly for analyzing works of fiction because I am skeptical that true metaphysical connection across brains in different bodies is physically possible, for those who do hold such spiritual beliefs, the takeaway is that I still view hiveminds and mental links as plural, or at least plural-adjacent.

Because at a certain level, even if your companion has their own body, you're still describing feeling their emotions in your body. You're still sharing your thoughts with them. You're still connected, which means they're at least partially in your head.

And therefore, I would still consider them headmates. 🤷‍♀️

Whatever angle you look at it from, I think POSIC Hoarde's fall firmly under the plural umbrella.

If you're not sure though, try playing around with different Manifestation types and see what happens.

If POSIC Companions are just psychological headmates locked to a physical object, then it should be possible for them to learn to Manifest in a headspace or project themselves externally through imposition.

But in theory, if POSIC companions are something metaphysical that are linked mentally to their Beholder... it should still be possible for them to Manifest in similar ways. If a POSIC Companion is linked to your brain and able to transfer thoughts and feelings, they probably would be able to transfer visual images too. And if they can project visual images into your head, then they could theoretically send a projection of themselves to your brain and appear in an inner world.

It's good to experiment and test the limits of what you believe is possible.

Finally, send my love to Luna. I hope they're feeling better. 💖💖💖

[curedigiqueen]

Listen, I understand why Suite isn't a popular season. Generally speaking, the best parts of it are generally done better in the two seasons that precede it. It in many ways is just a weaker frankensteining of Fresh and Heartcatch. But Fresh and Heartcatch are fantastic, so just because it's worse than those seasons, doesn't mean its bad in my opinion. And to be fair, it does deserve many of its criticisms.

But it's also one of my favorite seasons, and I think some of it's criticisms are more a matter of taste. There's just a lot I love about Suite.

Hibiki and Kanade

I also know a lot of people aren't huge fans of the whole fighting thing Hibiki and Kanade have going on. And I agree, it's not the best executed and some things don't make sense. I also understand that many people are not fond of the vitriolic best buds trope, but I don't think that makes their relationship inherently bad just not to everyone's taste. For what it's worth, we haven't had a pair of cures like them before and since and it's a tragedy to me personally because I am quite fond of vitriolic best buds, duo cures and childhood friends. We have so many cure duos and aside from these two, none are childhood friends. The CLOSEST is the fact that Saki and Mai met once, when they were 9. Several trios of childhood friends (Fresh, Doki Doki and Happiness Charge), but they're the only true childhood friend duo. I honestly want more cures like these two. They get the learning to understand each other that the new friendships have, with the wealth of intimate knowledge about each other stemming from their childhood friendship. Despite spending a year "apart", the years they spent together still mean something, and they can't seem to stay away. They're mad at each other but there is still a comfortable familiarity in the way they aren't afraid to fight with each other. They say they aren't friends but they still call each other by first name.

Their hearts naturally fall into perfect harmony. The have like the same sense of style. Kanade likes to bake. Hibiki likes to eat. Souta refers to Hibiki as "Hibiki-Nee-san", and otherwise treats her similarly to his own sister. They have a flashlight code that they use to communicate across town at night. Neither one realized that there are two entrances with Sakura trees at their middle school or tried to talk about it for a whole year. They're both so stupid.

They take after Nagisa and Honoka a lot too. Nagisa and Hibiki are both athletic redheads who are good at sports and have black as a main color in one of their outfits (Cure for Nagisa, Civ for Hibiki), and generally use pink in their outfits. Both like to eat. Both can be prone to grumpiness and disagreements with their family members. Honoka and Kanade are both white Cures with fierce tempers and a strong sense of responsibility, able to handle domestic things like cooking. Both have more academic strengths, but are relatively graceful. There are some twists of course, Kanade has the little brother who she bickers with (their little brother's even both end their name with "ta"), Hibiki is the one with a parent who is often abroad. I really like how the two called back to the original duo without at all feeling like a copy.

To be fair not communicating is the name of the game in Suite. And so, I do 100% understand not liking this plot. I really do understand it. It's more than fair. All of the plots basically revolve around miscommunication. That is like. The entirety of Suite. Miscommunications, and the breakdown and subsequent healing of relationships. A very very valid complaint. One that I can overlook, but understand if others cannot.

Siren and Hummy

So, Precure's second heel-face turn Cure (if we don't count the Kiryuu sisters). She's a shapeshifting cat who can sing. The original one.

While normally I dislike the "Brainwashed to be evil" trope. It can be very effective. Go Princess used it to great effect in which there was a level of tragedy to the years that had been stolen away from Towa, and how her motivations had been twisted. I think it has similar effect here, where we kind of get both. She was brainwashed, and I do think that does cheapen Siren's motivations and redemption a bit, but she also had genuinely negative feelings towards Hummy, that she acted on in refusing to practice with Hummy. She still has to face Hummy head on, and as much as she tries to pretend that she's hard and strong enough to live in her bitterness. Siren isn't actually mean enough to keep facing her friend and betray her over and over again.

Hummy being better at singing than her caused her to lose a piece of her identity. The most important singer in all of Majorland. The one who sings the melody of happiness. So Siren doubles down on that identity. She becomes Minorland's singer. But she also, due to her shapeshifting, spends that time adopting different identities. Testing things out, even if she doesn't realize it. Ultimately she has to completely let go of her old identity (losing access to her original form) and everything associated with it and forge a new sense of self, in order to find happiness. But she doesn't completely lose everything.

Despite not liking to be called Siren anymore, she still lets Hummy call her that. She turned her old identity of Siren into something bitter, so she had to cast it off to redefine herself. But Hummy is the only one who ever saw the real Siren through everything Siren tried to become. Hummy may have been the one who took her sense of worth, but she's also the one who always saw Siren's value as Siren. Hummy gets to use Siren because her relationship with Hummy is the only thing that survived Siren's evolution. The two have to forge a new relationship to a certain extent. But it's built on what came before.

I also just think it's fun that the bulk of this emotional arc is on Hummy. It's cat drama. Fairy drama. Usually this is the kinda of stuff that happens between the pink and the heel-face cure. But not this time. This time it's the cat fairy, and the pink is dealing with her own friendship drama. I think it also ties right back into Suites continued echo of healing relationships, actually listening to people in order to harmonize with them. Hibiki and Kanade have to resolve their bitter feelings from their estrangement. Siren has to get over her jealousy to let Hummy back into her life. And Mephisto and Aphrodite have to stop fighting a war against each other.

Major Land's Royal Family

I mean really, no one bothered to tell Hibiki and Kanade at any point that Mephisto was the brainwashed former King of Major Land and that Major Land had a princess who was in hiding? Just locked out of the loop. Both Kanon and Majorland are entirely made up of people who can't communicate.

Anyway, Ako is my all time favorite cure. I rather unpopular choice, I know. But she fits right in with many of my other favorites, characters such as Hikari Yagami, Takeru Takaishi, King Clawthorne, King Ezran, Anya Forger etc. I love kid characters. I especially love messed up traumatized kids who don't always deal with it in great ways. And kid characters with heaps of responsibility on their shoulders. Like chosen ones and royalty.

So Ako is the epitome of what I look for in my favorite characters. She's a 9 year old with high future expectations, that she can't even begin to try and live up to because she's been sent away from everything she's known and loved. Not just moving to a new town, but a new world, where the rules of what is and isn't normal are different. In addition she was forced into physically altering her appearance, wearing unfamiliar clothes, and cutting her long hair. Not only that, she now has to keep everything about her secret. Her hometown, whatever music magic she has, her real future career plans, everything that made her her, has to be suppressed and kept secret. And she was like. Six. That's tiny. And she has to construct a whole new fake identity?

No wonder she's grumpy and keeps to herself? Her alternative is just trying to keep up a bunch of lies all the time. And keeping to herself, means few friends, and trying to keep people away, because this is supposed to be temporary to some degree. She has back home eventually, she's their future queen. She really has no choice BUT to be a grumpy brat. To keep from getting found out and to keep from getting attached. Like sure she doesn't have to be a brat to Hibiki and Kanade, but she's kinda right half the time, and honestly her tempering that brattiness into being just unpleasant enough to be left alone without being so obnoxious she draws people's ire involves way more socio-emotional intelligence than should ever be expected from a nine year old. And at a certain point, after years of it, it became part of her real personality. The sweet optimistic little princess is still there. But it's under a layer of cynicism.

Ako wants her family back. So she gets the power to do that. And things still don't go her way.

I've joked to people before that Ako is one of 4 cures with divorced parents. Her parents are effectively divorced, but extra. They're not just trying to fight over a house and custody of her, but over not just an entire kingdom, but the fate of the world. And her father doesn't even know who she is anymore. Her parents are actively at war, and her mother honestly shows no qualms about letting her husband be potentially killed, not bothering to tell the people she's sent after him about their relationship and his true nature. (And then her mom asks Mephisto to kill her to protect their kingdom, Ako can't catch a break).

This ties back to a fact that is kind of brushed over in the show. Ako is the princess. In the show she's honestly just the princess because it puts her in between Mephisto and Aphrodite's drama. But we see in show that Mephisto and Aphrodite are constantly putting their kingdom's needs above their own. A- monarchs (points deducted for getting brainwashed), but like. B- parents tbh. They love Ako so, so much, but simply can't raise her themselves. In fact, Ako's parents won't look after themselves, so Ako has to look out for them instead of the other way around. We see this a lot with Mephisto.

Sometimes Ako makes absolutely stupid decisions, like releasing notes, because she doesn't want to go against her dad, even if he isn't himself right now. Because she's a child whose parents are fighting, seemingly to the death, and if she can spread out the fight, she can hopefully drag out the arrival of consequences.

Ako does eventually learn to use the power as a cure, so she can balance the needs of the many over the needs of her loved ones. So she can do both. But she has to learn to make the hard choices and be willing to stand against her loved ones.

Also Ako also gets the miscommunication based friendship breakdown with her and Suzu, and to a lesser extent her and Souta in the movie. Suite really goes hard on the whole healing relationships thing.

Ako is really a direct foil to Yuri who precedes her. Missing evil brainwashed dads. Present throughout the whole show, but only join the team in the last quarter (the latest of any Cures). Semi-awkward friendship with one of the other cure's siblings in part because their friend doesn't know about all their magical girl trauma. Already looped into the magical girl stuff before any of the other cures, so has a preexisting relationship of some sort with the grandparent mentor. Ako is pretty much just a baby Yuri, but who has just now gained the power to try and fight after years of inability to do anything, instead of having just lost her power, and having to face down her own failure and keep going. So she's an angry elementary kid rather than a depressed high schooler. How can I not love her?

[leftneb]

(Regarding the Landoscar dsmp au you're talking about)

YES!!! DO IT!! Join me in the crossover/multi fandom shenanigans!!! >:D /lh

Fr I would be so interested to see it 👀

this ask has been sitting in my inbox for about 39 years now but I have actually had a think about it so here I go

basically I think AU-ing anything into the DSMP would be incredibly challenging because it doesn't have many concrete universe rules. like we know hybrids and whatnot exist, we have the base universe of minecraft (minus the End ig) and the most defined part of the lore is the revival system which is a bit difficult to do anything with tbh

the way to make this interesting (and viable) would be to assign DSMP factions to the drivers and try imagining WHEN and WHY they would have chosen to align with those ideas and people (again this pretty much requires coming up with a new plotline which I'm a little too hyperfixed on the dbh au for atm) (you can pretty much reimagine the whole "plot" of the DSMP with the factions and main plotpoints being kept actually hmmmmmm just the relations changing. potential there.)

like imagine Landoscar (non-americans) with early L'Manburg meanwhile Logan is stuck outside. pure angst potential

my cTubbo (and cSchlatt and cDream) enjoyer brain also very very much wants to draw them as goat/deer hybrids because uhh yes. or just give them horns like the fandom did with cTommy

okay real question what happens when a hybrid character with horns gets revived. white horn maybe....

another big ol' questionmark would be how the drivers' lives could be adapted into the story. one thing that comes to mind is how Oscar moved to England alone at like 14, which my brain immediately associates with cTubbo. or Lando growing up as a shy kid with very little friends, very reminiscent of clingyduo in L'Manburg with the whole getting lifelong trauma thing

basically my thesis is that Landoscar (and Loscar actually) are clingyduo. I am not open to critiscism at this time (I actually am do please discuss this with me there's only a low chance I'll bite you)

I would point out that there is SO much angst potential with the whole L'Manbirg to Pogtopia and Manburg to everything that went on in the prison thing and I haven't even brought up cWilbur yet (the character and the person make me ill in such different ways urgh)

a thing (definitely one of my favorite things at that) about the DSMP is how EVERYONE is a main character depending on who you choose to follow, which is incredibly similar to how F1 works tbh so shockingly enough that's actually easy to adapt

another aspect I had a think about was dsmp character to driver associations which I honestly really want to do a questionnaire on and like make a research post about (someone actually did something similar to this about fandom to F1 pipelines go look at it it's very interesting)

my hypothesis is that associating single characters to drivers would be relatively simple (just a question of what role they play in their respective communities really, plus what vibes they give off lmao) BUT making those connections with groups/duos/trios/etc like actually reimagining the system would yield different results to singular associations. which is just a result of different environments having different ecosystems ig but it would be interesting to see nonetheless. in my brain some DSMP characters' roles would be filled by several drivers and some drivers would take on several roles at the same time which is absolutely fascinating to me

I think. that's all the thoughts I had about that (miight make a post about my driver-character associations at some point but I wanna sit down and have a proper think about that first) (all I'm saying is that Alex Albon is cRanboo)

[armoricaroyalty]

5 royal simblrs I love

There are, of course, WAY more than 5 amazing royal simblrs out there, but I wanted to take a moment to shout out just a few people in my community!

@nexility-sims: the most unique royal simblr on the block

N. is, of course, a very dear friend of mine and I MAY be accused of bios in the matter, but her story is simply the best one out there. In a community prone to retreading the same material over and over again, she is doing something wholly different and wholly original by choosing to focus on a non-western, non-European culture. She's an incredibly engaging writer and the only person whose world-building posts I come back to and read again and again. She puts an incredible level of care into everything she does, and I am so PROUD to be her friend and coexist in the same creative spaces with her.

@funkyllama: colorful, creative sims

One thing I love about Gracie's story is the way that she steps outside of the narrow Royal Simblr box. Her characters (my beloved Elle especially!) have unique, quirky styles and dress in fabulous colors and patterns that you just don't see much of on Simblr. She's coming to the end of one story and beginning to gear up for the sequel, so now is a good time to jump in and start reading.

@wessexroyalfamily: complex family drama, just getting into gear

This is a relatively new story, but it already has a fully formed setting with lots of complex family drama. This story is full of great little world-building details and narrative flourishes, and shit is really starting to pop off. Now is your chance to get in on the ground floor and start reading a wonderful story before it gets huge, so you can say you were there way back when.

@housekonig: thoughtful, fascinating royal intrigue

I know firsthand just how much effort and thought Jamal puts into every single one of his posts. His builds are amazing and all of his posts are so polished and full of great details. He's got more passion for worldbuilding in his little finger than I do in my entire body and his posts definitely reflect that effort and attention to detail!

@the-lancasters: the most royal royal story out there

Jennifer's story has been one of my favorites for a long time, simply because she includes so many little details about the working lives of senior royals that a lot of stories (mine included!) gloss over. She has a deep knowledge of how royal families actually function and works that knowledge into her story. My favorite arc in her story (other than her current one, which happens to feature one of my characters in a starring role!) is definitely Marcus and Sarah's romance, which turns the royal setting on its head and focuses almost entirely on the private secretaries instead of the royals themselves.

[ditizygirl]

omg forgive me for using your askbox as a dumping ground for my rant but you're one of very few people with common sense so I'm sending it in anyways feel free to ignore or delete 🫶

as someone who's been in the mogai community for three whole tiresome years and who has also been heavily involved in communities which literally engage in child exploitation (as a victim LOL I gotta clarify 😭😭) there's a lot of overlap even if some people refuse to admit it

like is it emiko rei asano from the real hit show I Dressed Up As A Drop-dead Gorgeous Model for a Day and My Entire Class Fell In Love With Me?!?!'s fault that predators would decide to target them for their typing quirks and the way they present themselves? no, absolutely not, and it never will be. but is it still relatively their responsibility to make sure that what they're doing doesn't genuinely border on ageplay? yeah, I would say so, because if as many of them are involved in sfw age regression as they claim they should know what's commonly in those sfw communities and what's typically only limited to ageplay—yet they don't.

if you dance around in a landmine field, eventually something is going to explode.

a really common tactic used by child predators which I'm gonna like explain super briefly and avoid giving too much info abt is that they expose people to explicit things under the guise of it still being sfw, and gradually move on from there. if you are a predator and you are entering the editblr community all you need to do is scroll through an anime list, pick one, pick some shitty dividers from canva to slap onto a character and add a psd coloring to it. it isn't that difficult to talk in third person ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡, it isn't that difficult for your one and only idol to start dming u abt how cool && awesome ur work is and how they wanna get 2 know u better ^–^ none of this s××t is difficult to replicate xD

and I'm not saying it's their fault if a predator comes up to them. but I am saying that editblr puts a large focus onto fake personas that everyone holds up no matter what, and a lot of them are all-knowing goddesses who are meant to fear nothing—so what happens when you mix that with someone who knows how to use that to their advantage? an explosion.

I'm not gonna sit here and claim that everyone on editblr is pedobaiting or predators because most of them are lonely afabs with no irl friends looking for a safe community they can reside in and be seen as cool. and that's fine. but when you worship a 15 year old and treat their work as if it's the greatest thing to ever touch the tags.. that is going to cause issues. that could potentially cause disorders, or at least traits of disorders which cannot be "fixed" or "cured", for lack of a better word, without a fair bit of therapy.

teenagers are easy to manipulate. lonely teenagers who don't get attention from anyone other than one community are the easiest, because they'll go all the way to get what they want. and when they go too far, get ostracized from the community and end up alone again.. it opens up more opportunities.

I wholeheartedly believe that the emphasis on the personas, the layouts, the typing quirks, the aesthetics and the most important aspect everyone tries to live up to, perfection, will cause the downfall of the community.

I do also think it's funny that everyone is caught up on the dyslexia thing considering half the people in this community are faking disorders and saying slurs they can't reclaim just because nobody will question them for fear of being attacked but uhm that's a different personal topic !! btw for a group all abt acceptance they certainly do hate it when people aren't white or "japanese" (you know fully well why that's in quotes) .. lol .. kinda funny how that works !

.

[thisisthinprivilege]

thin priviege in rave/festival/EDM culture

I have always loved raves and music festivals since I was an early teenager (I'm 23 now).  Since I've been 18 I have been able to travel around to different festivals like Ultra, Zoo, Cochella, Bonnaroo, etc. And because I live in Vegas I have been able to attend some of the most elite clubs where internationally famous DJs have played. In many ways I am aware of how incredibly lucky I am to have the economic privilege to do all of these things thanks to my very supportive parents (they were hippies and enjoyed quite a few festivals in their day I'm guessing).

But instead, I want to talk about thin privilege at these events. The events themselves have become incredibly fashion conscious these last few years. People plan their outfits far far ahead of time and put so much thought into them. Which is great to some degree. But for me it is incredibly frustrating.  My thin friends that I go with were tiny shorts and skirts, wear body paint and next to nothing.  I am far from slut shaming them, I encourage them and help them plan outfits. I am happy for them. They are often asked by event photographers to take pictures.Their instagram photos get 100s of likes, DJs invite them in stage to dance.  They look great and everyone compliments them. It seems that dressing up is part of the fun for them. It is pretty much expected that you'll look good at the events, instead of actually enjoying the music. Not to mention the amount of people, that wear fat shaming clothing items that say things like "no fat chicks" and or "body by god and iron". As if being thin is all about being blessed by god and working out, not simply just genetics.  Thin girls wear shorts that say bootyful and get applauded and agreed with, not laughed hysterically at.

But then there is me. I am 5'6 and about 278. I have trouble in a size 24, usually the largest size available in places to do have larger sizes in my area. I feel often as I am somewhere between small fat and just simply fat. I know I don't have it to the worst, but growing up in  where literally everyone is hot and thin, I often feel much larger than I am, and I am usually the fattest person in the room, and I am then treated the worst because of it. As you guys and FBP have mentioned, fat shaming is usually relative, which I can 100% attest to. I only realize that I am not alone when I visit other cities where people are my size or larger.

I cannot ever find festival clothes that will fit my body and look good on me. The best I can do is usually wear leggings or tights with large men's hunting tops (those bright yellow/green/orange tshirts) and try and repurpose them to have ties, holes, etc. I've become really good at it (at least, I think so) and no one ever notices. I put just as much into my outfits and yet I never get noticed. I was even asked to step out of a picture because all my friends had on matching clothes that I couldn't fit into and therefore couldn't wear. I had to go as the fat friend on the side.

When I'm not going unnoticed, the stares i get are always out of disgust. People cannot fathom why a fat girl would bother with one of these events. Apparently only thin people in cute outfits can like EDM.

I just wish that the attention could go back to the music and happy community vibes and not the fashion of thin people.