#(ignore the fact that i also have a self important white woman who also serial kills i do it in a more interesting way!!!!!)

[neonsbian]

reading maeve fly by cj leede bc i asked my writers group for dark comedy recs and i fucking hate this book </3

[asterekmess]

1-11 Scott/Posey Stans always try to deflect criticism of the way Scott McCall is written in Teen Wolf by claiming that ANY attempt by a fan, a viewer, or a critic of holding Scott to a level of behavior that one would expect of a character who is a main and the self-proclaimed hero of the show is “racism”. Except that their accusations don’t make any sense whatsoever, because Scott’s canonical shitty actions and behavior don’t stem from his race (or canonical lack of thereof.)

Okay hun, this is a doozy, so I’m putting it under a Read More.

2-11 Scott McCall is mean. He’s mean to Stiles, he’s mean to Allison, he’s mean to Derek, he’s mean to Peter, he’s mean to Cora, he’s mean to Lydia, he’s mean to Jackson, he’s mean to Erica, he’s mean to Isaac, he’s mean to Malia, he’s mean to Malia, he’s mean to Kira, he’s mean to Liam, he’s mean to Chris, and he’s even mean to Theo (“You are barely even human!”) Scott McCall is deliberately rude to the Hales, Boyd, Ethan, Danny, Hayden, Jiang, Tierney, and Melissa.

3-11 Scott McCall deliberately USES, INSULTS, HUMILIATES and DEHUMANIZES people in ways that demonstrate that he is fully aware of what he’s doing. Scott McCall deliberately disregards other people’s needs in order to fulfill his own. Tyler Posey being half Mexican doesn’t change the fact that his fictional character Scott McCall is a whiny coward and an abusive piece of trash,

4-11 and that his so called ‘defense squad’ enjoys the power fantasy that Scott can be cruel, can lie, can assault, can lash out, can violate other people’s boundaries, bodily autonomy and consent, can commit premeditated murder, can break the law without impunity, can dehumanize, can gaslight and victim blame his friends to his heart’s content and no one should ever hold it against him

5-11 In both the production and in some Scott supremacist fanfics, there’s often the premise that people are evil and in the wrong if they call Scott out on his bullshit or hold his toxic behavior against him. Take Season 1. As much as the Scott McCall defense squad brigade love framing Stiles and Derek getting shit done and prioritizing people’s life over Scott’s jealous fits and temper tantrums as the height of depravity

6-11 Scott/Posey Stans consciously and steadfastly ignore all the cruel things that Scott says and does throughout the seasons, such as “How much Adderall have you had today?” OR “What are you trying to do?! I just made first line! I got a date with a girl who I can't believe wants to go out with me and everything in my life is perfect! Why are you trying to ruin it?!” OR “The hunters had a reason to slaughter your entire family and pack”

7-11 (As an aside, it’s amazing to me how Fanon rewrites Scott as this brilliant thinker and strategist and mastermind who is so much smarter and better than everyone else in every way even though Canon Scott spends the entirety of Teen Wolf doing absolutely nothing except get his ass handed to him by everyone, whining about wanting to be popular/get his dick wet/play lacrosse, screaming at his friends and girlfriends, being utterly useless when left to his own devices,

8-11 and planning to bite Stiles against his will because he doesn’t know what to do. But I digress.) Or take Season 5. In the rain argument in Lies of Omission (5x09), Scott McCall’s hypocritical, dehumanizing speech to Stiles is one of the meanest, cruelest, most disgusting manipulations I have ever seen a television character deliver to another television character they supposedly cared about. It’s victim blaming and gaslighting at its vilest.

9-11 And, of course, the Scott McCall defense squad focuses exclusively on the idea that Stiles didn’t behave “the right way” in that scene (AKA taking Scott’s bullshit without clapping back like Scott wanted and demanded), and cannot entertain for one moment the idea that Scott provoked that response by dehumanizing Stiles and by accusing Stiles of being a violent, dangerous, inhuman monster and serial killer based on Theo’s words alone.

10-11 After all, it’s part of their power fantasy. Scott being “abandoned” and “mistreated” by his “ungrateful” friends serves another type of fantasy: the poor oppressed martyr. It doesn’t matter why Scott is abandoned or who is leaving Scott, it’s all about Scott McCall’s right to own people and demand his friends’ love, friendship, loyalty, sympathy, forgiveness, obedience and devotion without having to account for his own abusive behavior.

11-11 And that’s Scott Stans’ point: Only Scott McCall Is Important and Damn Derek/Stiles/Liam/Other Teen Wolf character for having a life and motivations that don’t revolve around Scott! To them (and to Canon Scott), the pack exists not to serve all its members, but to serve and validate Scott McWhinyCall. Because, after all, that’s what antis want for themselves – validation in the face of shortcomings and bad behavior.

Wow, that was a lot of anger. Do you feel any better after venting that? I really hope so, it honestly looks p cathartic. Okay, I apologize in advance if I don’t come across as quite so passionate, I’m kinda bleh today and I already used up all my righteous fury in an earlier post, so I’ll do my best.

I honestly understand the worry about people disliking Scott as having racist motivations. As I said in another post, there aren’t a lot of Latino (wait, I read somewhere to use latine? Should I use that instead? I’ll use that, someone correct me if I’m wrong. The thing also said latinx was not great bc of pronunciation issues? I’m not educated enough on this. Halp, please.) Latine protagonist characters in popular television, especially for teen dramas like Teen Wolf. Intentional or not, written into the show or not, Scott is half-latine. His mother is a latine woman. We don’t see them speak spanish or take part in any specific cultural traditions, but that doesn’t make him white. Yes, his character was written for a white guy, but Tyler Posey is the one who got the part and we can’t strip him of his heritage just because the show originally meant for Scott to be white. My husband is almost always mistaken for white, even though he’s also half-latine, but that doesn’t make him any less latine. There’s little enough representation as it is, and if we start being picky about whether characters were ‘intended’ or ‘written’ as POC, everything will just fall to shit. Plus, as a white person, I have literally no rights to decide that Scott’s white. I’m cool with that. Would prefer to just stay in my lane, if I’m honest. With Scott established as being a POC, it’s totally reasonable for other POC and fans of Scott to be worried that those of us who don’t like him have that opinion because of either passive or active racism. There are a lot of occasions where Protags of Color were either liked less, or actively disliked for just being ‘not white.’ It also doesn’t help that Scott is one of very few “good” Characters of Color in TW (whether we agree or not, he is presented as a ‘good guy’). We have Boyd, who dies in 3A and doesn’t get much character developement in the meantime, and Kira, who sticks around for a while, then has to leave because of ‘losing control’ which is apparently a very common stereotype for POC, especially within Fantasy or Supernatural settings. Other than them, the other POC are either bad guys or just morally dubious. I’m not sure where Deaton falls on the scale either. I understand it being frustrating to some people for us to take one of the few “good’ characters and see him/describe him as a villain. It’s important for white people, and honestly, anyone not latine (because even POC can be racist against people who aren’t their race) to be self-aware and analyze the various reasons why we dislike Scott and make sure that we aren’t accidentally being passively racist. Just because we’re sure we aren’t, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t double check. And if we find we are, then it’s up to us to correct that mindset and educate ourselves. There is no shame in learning that you have not great habits or mindsets and working to fix them. That’s how growth works. It’s equally important that when we’re writing fic, we watch how we portray him and the other POC in the show. I’m not saying we can’t write Scott bashing fic. Fuck knows that I’ve written plenty of Bad Friend Scott McCall fic, and I don’t intend to stop. But we still need to be self-critical and make sure that we’re not writing Scott (or the others, please assume from here on out I’m saying Scott and the others) into racist stereotypes. We shouldn’t reduce him to just a “Yes” man, or make him constantly submissive, or constantly vicious and angry and mean for no reason. It’s one thing to write him as doing something bad or cruel and making it realistic for the story. It’s quite another to have him just randomly pop in to say “fuck you” and hit someone (I’m not referencing something specific here, I’m just saying dumb stuff). Honestly, I don’t know enough about this and I’m not really entitled to go into too much more detail. Instead, I’d recommend that even if you don’t think you’re hating Scott for racist reasons, still read This Post about racism in fandom/fanfic. When I read it, it was both reassuring and intimidating. I have anxiety, so I’m usually worried about doing things for ‘the wrong reason’ even when that’s not actually my reason for doing the thing. Reading this gave me a clearer view of my own thoughts, and it honestly made me feel a little more comfortable with my own mentality because it gave me a structure to think about and consider when I’m worried that I’m doing something racist. It’s worth the read. I’d also like to reiterate the suggestion on that post, to check out the blog Writing with Color, which is a great resource for writing Characters of Color. It doesn’t have as many resources for fanfiction writing and the grey area involved in writing characters that your reader already knows, but their ask box is closed at the moment, so maybe when it opens again someone’ll send in an ask about it (If I actually remember to, I’ll do it myself, but that’s unlikely, so if one of you feels so inspired, please do so and help a fic writer out!)

Now. I cannot speak for every single fan of TW who is anti-Scott in some way. Obviously not. But, I can speak for myself and for the experiences I’ve had within the fandom. My issues with Scott are many and complex and a lot of it is intrinsically connected to issues with the writing of the show in general and with the creators and the calls they made. In all the conversations that I’ve had with other fans, I’ve never seen anyone list Scott’s race as a problem. I’ve never seen anyone talk about how they wished he were more submissive or more obedient. Maybe that he would listen to actual adults once in a while, but not that he be unreasonably obedient of white characters. I’m not all-knowing on the subject of racist stereotypes, but nearly every complaint I’ve seen was based on details from the show and specific moments and dialogue, not just a general disgust with his existence. Furthermore, for all the anger I see directed at those of us that prefer Stiles, Derek, or even Peter, I’ve also never talked to anyone who liked those characters who wasn’t willing to admit that there were plenty of points in canon where they fucked up or did something wrong. Again, I don’t know everyone in fandom, so maybe there are people who won’t admit those things, but they aren’t in the majority.

I personally hate the way I see Scott treat people in the show. I hate the really vicious things he says and does and the chronic lack of self-awareness or growth. Even worse, the way the show excuses his behavior, be it intentional or not, has soured a lot of other parts of the show. The clearly impulsive moments that could easily be excused by him being a really stressed out teenager make me a lot more frustrated than they would, had I not known that he would never get better. That he would never stop saying things like that. I can’t even make myself enjoy the genuinely sweet moments with him and Allison or him and his mom, etc. I might hate that he left Stiles’ messages unanswered and skipped an entire day of school during a crisis to hang out with Allison, but I would’ve liked to enjoy their banter, the soft moments between them that are actually really nice. I can’t though, because so many other things about his character have ruined that for me.

It isn’t okay to attack people for disliking a character and throw around such charged words like “racist” and “abuse-apologist” or anything else. First off, this is fiction, and we all need to keep that in mind. These are not real people we’re talking about. Secondly, calling someone racist because they disagree with you (unless they are actively saying/doing something actually racist) isn’t okay and it isn’t an adult way to deal with things. Someone not liking a character doesn’t automatically make them racist. Someone happening to prefer a white character over a Character of Color doesn’t automatically make them racist. Sure, they might have passively racist motivations that even they don’t realize. But it is not up to strangers to come yell and call names without proof. There are plenty of reasons that have nothing to do with race (Not saying “i don’t see race.” I’m saying “Not About Race”) that I like Stiles over Scott, ranging from the fact that he’s physically more my type, to sharing a neurological condition with him, to just preferring Dylan O’Brien as an actor because he makes me fucking cry every time he cries on screen. What’s important is that we self analyze and check ourselves and our opinions to make sure that we aren’t falling into the racist habit of disliking Characters of Color for no real reason. But that isn’t something that other people can do for us, and it’s not their place to tell us what we think. Calling a stranger racist for saying they hate Scott’s behavior in the show doesn’t do anything for racial equality. It just makes people stop listening to the word ‘racist.’

There are times I seriously get frustrated with TW to the point of considering not watching anymore. Of closing my blog and stopping reading fanfic entirely because every single time I read a fic where Scott’s a ‘good guy’ or a ‘good alpha’ or where Derek is glad to be a beta again because he likes following Alpha Scott, I get squicked so badly I have to click out and just sit there for a second to settle. I can’t disentangle the things he does/says in the show from the fic.And I’ve written Good Friend Scott McCall fics. I have multiple wips where he’s either a decent person or he grows from being a dick to being a decent person. With my own work, I know that there’s an awareness to his behavior in the show and an active intent to rewrite/fix his behavior so that he is a nice person. With other people’s works, I don’t have a guarantee (unless it’s mentioned in tags or author’s notes, and I don’t expect people to have to explain themselves that way), and it personally makes me uncomfortable to read something when I don’t know if the writer actually sees Scott that way. It’s a personal preference, and one that I stick to pretty strictly.

Scott brings me no joy, and with him as the main character, I’ve come perilously close to cutting myself off from the most welcoming, loving fandom I’ve ever been a part of (except the Merlin fandom, but I don’t blame anyone who can’t compete with them. They’re fucking magical.). But I’m still here. I still love, if not the reality of the show, then all the potential I see in it when I watch. I love watching Derek and Stiles interact with each other and with the other side characters. I love seeing the glimpses of Boyd that we get, the tiny scenes of Erica, the snarky moments with Isaac. I even like Kira, though I haven’t seen a whole lot of the show where she’s in it/genuinely can’t remember it (I can’t even remember how far I’ve seen total, but I don’t think it was past S4, and I haven’t seen past S2 in months and months) and she spends most of her scenes with Scott, which just....kind of ruins the scenes for me.

That’s the glory of fandom though, of media in general. I don’t have to like Scott. I can love Derek and Stiles instead and I can choose not to read fics where Scott is a major player or an Alpha at all. I can read fics where Kira’s part of the pack without Scott ever getting involved, and see her interact with everyone else. Or fics where Boyd never dies and watch him bake or read or play lacrosse with the pack. I can curate my own experience, whether that means blocking tags or users or filtering fics, or just straight up skipping certain scenes/episodes of the show itself. I cope with my frustrations by coming on this blog and ranting about it. Yeah, this is a public space, but it’s also a space people choose to view. If they don’t like my opinions, they can block me or unfollow me or all of the above. They don’t have to read it, just like I don’t have to read any of their pro-scott stuff. I also read fic that does explore how Scott’s behavior is problematic and cruel sometimes. Fic that either erases him or turns him into the villain, I find fun and interesting and the relationship between him and Stiles cracking into pieces is something I find extremely cathartic, so I read it pretty much every chance I get (though, i’m so picky about fics I read, you’ve no idea). I also write fic. I write the most mushy, self-indulgent sterek fic and Stiles-centric fic and and Scott bashing fic that I can possibly write. It’s a joy and a therapy all its own. Fuck, I’m rewriting the entirety of canon for fuck’s sake and I’ve made so many changes that at this point I honestly have issues remembering what happens in the show, bc I rewrote the damn thing.

At the same time, Scott fans are gonna write their power fantasies. They’re gonna write anti-Stiles stuff and anti-Derek stuff, and whatever else tickles their fancy. They’re gonna make their own rant posts and gifsets. And to be quite honest, I don’t give a single flying fuck. I already have those tags filtered out on Ao3. I don’t follow any pro-scott tumblrs. That shit doesn’t show up for me most of the time, unless it’s not tagged properly, and even then I just click out, take a second, and move on.

No one is required to like or dislike specific characters, and it’s unfair of anyone to tell us otherwise. Fandom is built on choice. The choice to disagree with canon, or to re-envision it altogether, or to love it entirely. No one can take that away from you. So long as you aren’t hurting anybody, just keep doing you, friend. I’m here for you to vent to when it gets to be too much.

<3

[sevynspeakstothesky]

In rebuttal to Buckbreaking(2021) By Sevyn Sky Selby Wednesday June 9, 2021

If you have not seen Buckbreaking, a document by Tariq Nasheed, here is a breakdown: Black men, including Rizza Islam and Joe Brown, sitting around giving what they preserve to be a historical take on the history of homosexuality in the black community. They bestow not only brutality but genius on the white race as being the source of all alt sexuality and identity. They are in fact ignorant and forgetting that many of us, like myself are native to the Americas where Two Spirit people were and are to this day revered. The term Two Spirit is the Native American all-encompassing term for LGBTQ individuals where white Americans coined the term bisexuality from. White people are not the creator of non cis identities or non-straight sexuality. The men in this documentary give them way too much credit. However, the film makes some points like black people, especially black men where on the receiving end of anal rape and degradation for centuries.

Very violently, the disdain for the LGBT community is spit out in this docuseries. To that I ask, were the commentors sons or daughters either feminine or masculine presenting and self-proclaimed as gay or trans what would you do? I think I know the answer. They would beat and mentally, emotionally abuse their children into submission. If that did not work, would they kick them out in the street. A tale too many of us are familiar with. How are we as black LGBT people being punished for what they claim as a white created problem? Homo same relationships and gender role reversals were well documented before slavery and often as black people we equate the beginning of our history as slavery forgetting the richness of our rule and ancestry. In the documentary same sex relations and trans people are linked to pedophilia but people failed to realize the pedophiles are in everyday life, in parents, in men, women, pasters, uncles, aunts, strangers, friends and more times than often not committed acts by trusted authority figures. But calling Two Spirt people abusers because we choose not to acknowledge their sexualities and identities as valid is an easy scapegoat for ignoring these facts. We also forget that for every child failed in anyway the culprit is 9.9/10 times the fault of a cisgender and proclaimed straight parent.

What the documentary gets right is that white people are depraved and that conjunction with Christianity and so-called organized religion, a once great two spirited community became demonized. What I see is a group of black men oppressing a subgroup of black people by comparing them to their white counterparts. How can a divide be inclusive? If they had done their studies, they might find that the racial divide is just as big amongst gays. Or that black LGBT folks suffer from homelessness and poverty at way more alarming rates than their Caucasian counter parts. In black and brown communities, sexually fluid and gender non-conforming youth are thrown out as soon as they are no longer controllable in the worst-case scenario. This leaves them subject to real predators and pedophiles on the streets and often forced into prostitution rather than being abused and not being able to live their truth under a roof by their own parents. This is what the youth are experiencing. It is not fair to hold black people to a higher and harsher standard than the actual culprit of crimes against humanity, the white male and by extension the white woman.

If black and brown gay men and transwomen are the victims of mental manipulation, feminization and ritual abuse as the film suggest, how does the attack on us make the situation better? Why do we have to further stand the abuse from our own community by what was done and is still being done today. Why is so easy for us to oppress our own and not see ourselves in ourselves or our youth?

A whole community is suffering mentally and emotionally because they are not being able to express themselves or believed when they tell you who they are and their stance. And when we believe them, they are demonized. We are contributing to this detrimental atmosphere of systemic and mental slavery where our children cannot grow. This is the remanent of slavery we should be worried about and what these men could have used their platform to bring awareness to. Again, let’s not forget, the conditions we find ourselves in today stem from the failures of cisgender, straight parents. The foster system is filled by them, the gay community is thrown out by them and mental abuse is perpetuated by them. While there are historic points made, we have more important things to worry about, like better ways of parenting and letting our children express themselves.

An important conversation being had today is Dwayne wade and his daughter Zaya Wade who is accepted and thriving. I commend Wade and Gabrielle Unions parenting. I’m interested to see the growth of a young trans person who is allowed to flourish. We need more voices like Dwayne Wade and less like rapper Boosie who has been labeled as transphobic and homophobic in his career. In light of the Zaya Wade news, Boosie proclaiming to Zaya’s father in a social media video, “don’t cut off his parts man,’ misgendering and referring to the genitals of a 13-year-old Zaya. Boosie has also been called out for not only referencing a minors private but also suspected homo same comments and an obsession with the male phallus on serial occasions. Boosie is a voice of a generation of ignorant misinformed melaninated people who choose to subjugate those under the umbrella of LGBTQ+. His and other voices like his are the ones people want to flock to instead of the Wades of the world because we have been so indoctrinated with a sense of self oppression. Think of all the children and adults who have suffered mentally anguish due to these views and religion. A great example being Donnie McClurkin who just this year has said how unhappy he is and proclaimed himself as asexual because of conflicting feeling within himself.

We cannot continue to allow hate pieces like Buckbreaking to be made where a whole community is likened to child abusers when people like Boosie are praised. We cannot allow people like Rizza Islam, who loves and idolizes Prince and Michael Jackson, both men who were on the extreme feminine side of the spectrum, then turn around a exclaim how much of a sin gay people are. This documentary stunk of gender inferiority, patriarchy, and perpetuated slave mindset. The melanated Two Spirit and LGBT community is here, always has been and always will be. A goal of ours as melanated people must be to remember who the real divider and manipulator is and unifying to fight that energy and not creating schisms and oppressing parts of our own body.

[ckcker]

I Walk in Madness

Nobody has or can have all the information, but they have the requisite amount of information and agony in combination to believe they accurately see the entire thing.  I don’t and can never have all the information, but still I must have an opinion that seems binding or confident.  The information I selected and pressed into an opinion is now my special soul, and defines me.  It must be released and time-stamped to show that at one point, I made this all-encompassing definition, which is a summary of my self and the window of all my beliefs hereafter.  Elevate yourself to say, “I no longer wonder.”  

I have made myself publicly available; all that the community asks of you is that you participate.  To not participate is to disrespect those who put all of their time, effort and mental filaments into the ideal of community.  Such a reclusive impulse should be modified swiftly but in the most holistic way if possible, it is not helpful for others.  It is not helpful for you.  It is, at heart, cowardly, as it turns away in fear from the difficulties involved in building a resilient, healthy and just community.  It courts isolation as a comfort, when in fact voluntary isolation is the fortification of unhealthy habits and delusional or paranoid thought processes which precariously redirect the lost person away from the tough but rewarding civic duties necessary to building a fact-driven social network.  If I am lonely at night, the solution is to participate.  Though I walk in madness, I end up at the voting booth.  A discussion takes place in which everyone pretends to know how recycling works; one inches towards integration.  Recipes are shared, and an evening passes with an attempt to perfect avocado gazpacho.  

I love traditional open-toed sandals.  Making the body more vulnerable to the elements of the outside world shows a general dissipating apprehension.  Though current events inevitably fade in relevance and thus sustained public attention, their emotional immediacy and rousing thrust are exceptionally good at forcing the under-opinionated to participate and commune with others. Opinions always coalesce under the pressure of current events, and since current events are established and projected much more widely and much more often in this era, it follows that one should have more opinions, and participate more.  Of all the methods I’ve tried, the most effective and least artificial toner I’ve used is two tablespoons of rose water mixed with 1 cup of filtered water.  The rose water I use is a brand from Lebanon and you can probably find it in a local middle eastern grocery store.  Having a very public life no longer makes me uneasy!

I published the post and I was feeling satisfied, though very likely no other person would see it.  My only patron appeared to be a woman in her early 40s with hard bangs and a diamond choker smiling in her icon’s bubble, with arm around a presumed husband and the suggestive text “Be Kind” pegged in lower left corner in hot pink with white outline.  Miscellaneous background details in the icon, particularly a hanging silver streamer, communicated that at the time of the photo this woman had been at a New Years party.  Her silent interpretation of my persistently scarce content was eager musing territory for me when her icon focused my attention in the midst of a wild scroll, or when her face and militarized endorsement of kindness intruded with the elegance of a twirling maple samara upon my mind during a bout of fear-walking.  She made no effort to contact me, had no posts of her own or even personalized layout style, and yet she hypothetically watched me.  Of course it was pointless on her end — my posts were designed solely for the tactical misdirection of algorithmic spectres, conceived and published only in order to convince those supra-wiggly archivists of instinct that I was overwhelmingly a different person.  I did not want even the smallest gleak of truth to land online.  This “lost mind” plan even extended to my video watching and digital window shopping maneuvers, though in the case of the former it was impossible to totally restrain myself from a true curiosity and craving to pursue certain videos.  This lack of impulse control expanded even more robustly when porn entered an afternoon; it was insurmountable to search and watch against the specific desires and images I knew would satisfy me the most.  Yet I tried in rapid toe dips, once spending eleven minutes on a video of a nude bodybuilder shot-putting a collection of corns and lettuces into a wall, and with no o-face to conjure.  

“I walk in madness” was both my unorthodox phrase of meditation and most important sentence of self-parody.  When walking around at night in a certain state, I would now and then repeat to myself, “I walk in madness.”   After this I would laugh and say, “that’s dramatic.”  Self-parody swooped in to dehydrate the potential mirages, delusions.  But no other summary was as accurate — literally I walked in madness.  From the habits of my mind, a complex system had emerged and, quite simply, enveloped my unhinged ass.  I had strobe-nurtured my preferences for “the best way to think” over the last several years, so that now I was only sufficiently energized when mentally combining (1), an act of making fun of myself for feeling out of sorts, with (2), an earnest attempt at my own healing.  This perverse combo made me feel very aware but rarely good.  And when these thought commands then marinated in the head to a fully abusive gush, there was one more thing to consider.  What was the source of that powerful sensation that took me over when I went walking alone and without a plan at night?  What was it in the body that prodded me along that highly nummy snack trail of mini-catharses?  What was the source of those tiny pecks of transcendence that scattered down the back of the neck when nearing the production of an abyss?  That is, I did not only walk in madness because I had to, but also because it had become fun.  It raveled me on a line leading to some other connection, a connection which was not to The World.  It promised recognition of and commune with everything that did not matter or had not ever been confirmed to exist.

These areas were very important to pay attention to — I had ignored them for the majority of my, to be acutely real, goofiest years, it was important to know everything that was possible.  This was my routine.  I walked with glamour in circular patterns around less populated city neighborhoods at night, always listening to music that accentuated a spike in insane flavoring.  I only chose music that had the strength to combine halo and blurred hole, it was always music that floored my sensation to its final speed.  I knew I was so lucky to have built-in machinery that let me expand all of my reserves through music.  It was my only advantage.  It made me proud to turn inward.  If my skill was extreme sensitivity, it could only flourish in its most insular and native format.  

But I desperately needed new songs to fill me up, and over-listened as a resting state.  I over-listened, and a night out, i.e. the sustained advancement of nightlife over several hours, was an exhausting condition for me.  In a bar, I was penetrated by the old song I had heard over two thousand times before, but which now had been remixed in a contemporary style wherein synth stabs commanded by creatine hands had replaced what was once very clean, antiquated AOR guitar strumming.  The popular song I had highly ignored for the length of my life, and which hearing did not provoke outrage (or even flashback to wedding dance floor) but instead perpetual indifference in me, had been updated using the most cutting edge technology to produce aural depths not possible with the recording equipment available when the song was originally produced, and which now plunged the emotions much further down and much harder.  The original voice was now placed in a melancholy minefield of hysterically deep bass and plummeting, omnidirectional dynamics and, when the remix passed through the tequila that I was allowing to patrol my body, it replicated itself with viral menace to produce in me the extraterrestrial threat of a single tear.  

In this instance of a night out, Rob had invited me to this bar and party that I had never been to before.  Where I had expected to see more of his friends or even the endless hallway of acquaintances he seemed to be able to mobilize at random, instead I only saw Gail, revealing the conditions were such that Gail and I were the only people Rob had invited to the event.  There I stood under the song, almost leaking with melody-induced sentimentality or globular nostalgia mucus.  I looked across at Gail who was leaning on a wall, who did not seem to be able to observe me after our initial greeting when I arrived at the bar.  She appeared to not take in much information when moved from location to location, and when looking in her eyes I did not ever get the sensation that enormous perspectival changes were part of her social rhythm.  A common conclusion from a young person would be that she was fried, but whether as a condition of drugs/alcohol/trauma or some combo, there had not been any stories shared on which to focus a rock hard drama-horny eye.  Though I yearned to know what details flanked the long road leading to her hellscape, I realized it was unjust since I wasn’t prepared to present the full set of demonic coordinates that had led to mine.  How can one appeal with another story of lost sleep?  “Awake all night” is not the story anyway, yes we know, please make your complaining entertaining.  I was in the heart of the club, I understood it was not the moment to emerge brumal vapors in the form of uninteresting plot points excerpted from my very personal checklist of booboos.  “Oops,” the convicted serial killer said when the public did not like the realistic paintings he made of his victims while in jail.  Gurn: it was possible for the public to see horrifying paintings made by a serial killer.  

Several screens around the bar played the same music video, which the dance floor area magnified via projection on the wall, so that, in the most emotional part of the bar, emotion was keyed up considerably by the illusion of entering the world suggested by the song.  Rob and the bartender were near cheek-to-cheek, taking turns cocking their heads to the side so the voice of the other could enter the ear successfully over the newest Chicago house-derived, 80s-synthpop-infused rap song scorching the lair.  Gail stayed against the wall, looking around but appearing totally comfortable, a woman in her 60s drinking a High Life surrounded by a different generation, I was moved.  Being young is incredibly dangerous.  The bartender poured Rob and himself shots and they downed them together.  

Snippets of Gail’s circumstances had reached me, I knew she had been living with her son in Texas but now was essentially homeless, that Rob and Q.C. had met her at a goth club where she was hanging out with a much younger woman named Lillian.  Lillian would often be run into at the goth club or other clubs and bars, flirting with Rob and Q.C., and though she was definitely younger than Gail, she wore enough makeup to sufficiently alter minds and, with the support of moody bar lighting that left certain preferred corners in medium darkness, had an age that was unrecognizable.  “My instinct tells me she’s at least 35,” Rob had suggested after explaining to me the situation and after a long silence in which I didn’t respond or engage at all with what he had just said.  The pause had felt uncomfortable and also unnatural after such bulbous gossip so he apparently felt it important to break the silence with this one more detail of her estimated age.  I knew it would make both of us more comfortable if I said something in response to the story of Gail and Lillian but I didn’t, in the end, have anything to say, and so Rob told me he thought Lillian was at least 35, and I responded, “oh.”  Lillian and Gail were good friends and Lillian would often bring Gail along to the goth club; Gail did not dress on theme.  Eventually Rob learned she lived in her car and he invited her to stay with him for an unspecified amount of time.  Inevitably this increased my estimation of Rob’s worldview.  When he would decide once again it was time to throw trash from the neighborhood off the 2nd floor apartment balcony — for instance a decommissioned flatscreen or legless American Girl doll — Gail, watching through the open door from the beige velvet couch, would laugh once.  

Rob concluded his interaction with the bartender, turned to me and explained the bartender was hot and straight, and when the bartender worked the weekly gay night they held at the bar, he would appropriately enhance his image in honor of the conventional gay male eye — pouring himself into a tight black tank top that demonstrated his tactful chest hair and relevant bicep gains was the respectful thing to do.  “I’m going to dance now,” Rob said as a commanding female voice shook the establishment with its first notes.  

I wandered over with him but stuck to the doorway that connected the bar area to the dance floor, watching as he threw himself, alone, into the writhing environs, quite clogged with personal freedoms.  The mass of dancers sang the chorus of the song all together, the subject matter concerned a protagonist that felt jealous and sad to see their long pined after crush dancing with another girl.  In fact the protagonist likely never had a chance with the person who was their crush but had built up a dream narrative in which their idealistic love with this person was nearing possibility.  In the midst of such crushing circumstances, the protagonist, now left alone and heartbroken at some event they likely attended simply to engage further with their crush, has decided to dance through their loneliness despite it all, even if it will only enliven them for a moment, and for the length of the song.  Rob danced “with” almost anyone he turned his body towards.  Some people engaged, dancing back, and others stealthily maneuvered away.  At some point it was discernible that he no longer had on shoes or socks.  A girl very much liked that, drawing her friend’s attention to the fact, then touching Rob on the arm, saying something inaudible.  All three laughed.  I stood and watched, occasionally pinged by passing bodies gunning for the most emotional part of the bar.  I watched the video on the projection screen.  The female vocalist danced specifically, had short pink bowl cut hair, conveyed well-lit and accessible agony.  Several bar dancers unmistakably entered a sub-orgasmic flehmen response.  My left shoulder reflexively darted front and back — a significant space-grabber had brushed me by on their way to the dance floor.  It was eventually revealed to be Gail.  I watched her scream “YAHHHHHHHHHH!!!” as she launched herself into the crowd.  

[migleefulmoments]

I'm a psych major - i seriously believe that the CC fandom is a cult - the hate they send is cult like mentality, they have something seriously wrong with them. Like mentally. I wouldn't be surprised if one of them got arrested for harassment of C or D or their partners.

Come off anon and chat with me...there is a lot to unpack and I won’t do it publicly.  

There is definite some mental health issues for in that fandom. I too keep wondering how far they will push it.  If not them, will some follower of theirs do something stupid because they are emboldened by the rhetoric that the ccc leaders spew? 

Whether the anons are real or the leaders of the ccc are sending anons to themselves-or it’s a combination of both- is unclear to me, what I do know is that the answers they are giving are consistently and purposefully misleading and often outright lies. 

Two recent examples of their outrageous lies; 

1. ANON::

“...have u seen naya say on the podcast that C was actually upset about santana's rant to kurt in that episode... because it was so real? it really makes u think that there was for sure one writer thay really did have it out for chris...

ajw720 answered:

That rant was 100% directed at C and it was divined by RM.  He is raging with jealousy towards C, he has everything, looks, talent, creativity, and D.  And things completely feel apart when RM realized C was genuine competition.  You realize Blainofsky was punishment to CC for acting out that past summer? He literally broke up the fan favorite couple on the show during the last season for revenge. And he despises C in particular. And that rant was not aimed at K/urt. It was aimed at C.  And I am glad N/aya commented on it, I can’t imagine how she felt being used on that manner.

FACT CHECK: 

Had she spent 2 minutes Googling this she would have realized that fact Brad Falchuk-not Ryan Murphy- wrote Jagged Little Tapestry thus invalidating her entire theory.

Everything she said about Ryan Murphy in this paragraph is simply her fantasy. Ryan is a very successful and powerful Hollywood writer, producer, and director. He is also gay and married with young children and Is a powerful LGBQT advocate.  His youngest son waged a 2-year battle with Neuroblastoma from 2016-2018. Neuroblastoma is a vicious form of childhood cancer that requires intense treatment. I used to be an pediatric oncology/bone marrow transplant nurse and this cancer and treatment is no joke. 

Ryan Murphy is very creative- he created and wrote episodes of Glee, 911, and  Nip/Tuck, AHS, ACS, and the upcoming The Politician. Check out his IMDB (X).  

He has won numerous awards and nurtured a lot of queer content including Pose which hired both LGBTQ actors and staff making it highly unlikely that he would closet a gay actor. 

She suggested Ryan is jealous of Chris because of his “looks” and  his relationship with Darren. There is nothing to suggest that Ryan is unhappy in his married, his attracted to much younger or is attracted to Chris and/ Darren.  Ryan called his husband, “His rock” in 2018 when talking about their son’s illness.  

Abby ignores  Ryan’s real life story, instead because it doesn’t fit her fanfiction character profile she created for Ryan.     

2. ANON: 

“....is it a known fact to the whole fandom that f/etusm/iarren is M/ia ?” (X)

chrisdarebashfulsmiles answered:

Hi, you know, i think (my opinion) that m/iarrens are ignoring purposely this fact. Like.. they have seen everything happening or showed here and decided to say “hey, you know? i don’t care”. Like they do with everything that is not part of the “D is straight” tale.

Let’s say that most of us have an idea about who the minions are (if they exists and i think i can tell you that maybe one is a real person)… but it’s irrelevant. 

The account still exists because, and believe me i don’t know how this is possible, the stans who follow that account are more “m/ia stans” (the ones that bother us on our blogs and in blogs dedicated to hate and mock us) than “D stans.  Let me tell you one thing: i speak with a good bunch of “m/iarren” that are D stans and we are on the same page, we worry for D. No talk of bullshit with them. Most of them understood that something wasn’t ok and they left their fandom, without becoming part of the cc one. Others are still here but more subtle and still respectful.

And I see why: because they want to understand what is wrong.

Anyway: D’s team gives her stuff, and this is one of the problem.

FACT CHECK:

In truth, there are very few “Mia stans” and a lot of “Darren stans”.  The CCCers refuse to listen to what their anons actually say. Instead they pigeon-hole people into categories based on their own needs and they need us to be unreasonable and obsessed with Mia rather than Darren for their self-righteous antics to work.   

Nobody that I am aware of is purposefully ignoring credible evidence that Darren is gay. None of us are looking at the “evidence “ and saying “hey, we don’t care”.  The fact is that very few people care if Darren is gay or straight and the “evidence” is nonsense. I have yet to year one thing that sounds credible. Anyone else? 

I did a very rudimentary look her claim that “The account still exists because, and believe me i don’t know how this is possible, the stans who follow that account are more “m/ia stans” than “D Stans”.  I sampled 280 Fetu/sMiarr/en followers: 

The vast majority were private accounts aka we cannot say why they are interested in the account.

4 or 0.1% called themselves Mi/arrens

10 or 3.5% listed Kl/aine or Gle/e in their profile

15 or 5.3% listen Darre/n or posted photos of him alone

1 or 0.03% was a Guns ‘N Hoses page DING DING DING we found the Mia Stan.   

Darren’s team gives her stuff? What exactly would Darren’s team need to give her? She is his wife. She goes everywhere with him. they own a home and bar together. 

Chrisdarebashfulsmiles had a rare moment of honestly when she said “Believe me I don’t know how this is possible”.  The truth is. it isn’t possible. it’s all made up.

Abby stuck her nose in to the conversation with this wisdom: 

ajw720

And a lot of the stans who refuse to accept it, need M because she is the only thing that makes d straight. And they know as soon as they start to question, they have to face reality

Um, no Abs, Mia is not the only thing that makes Darren straight. 

Darren is straight because he is a man who is sexually attracted to women....the very definition of “straight”.  

Darren has identified as straight for 9 years. 

Your confusion around his sexual orientation is simply your refusal to respect his word because you believe you know more than he does about his own feelings-however that isn’t a valid argument.    

His marriage to Mia is a personal decision to build a life with the woman he loves and has been in a relationship with for 9 years or so.

Let’s look at Darren’s own words over the years:  

2011 'Glee' Star Darren Criss Comes Out—As A Straight Guy!(X)

"I think it's more empowering to everybody, including myself, if I'm articulate about identifying myself as a straight male playing a gay character," the actor says in the Hollywood issue of Out magazine. "Ultimately, that's more powerful for both communities."

When Criss first got the role of Blaine, he admits that he wanted to deflect questions about his sexual orientation, giving reporters answers like, "It doesn't matter if I'm gay or straight." But he decided that it was better if he was just honest and straightforward. Besides, he explains, he owes a huge part of his identity to gay role models. 

2011 “Glee Star Darren Criss Dishes on Kissing Lea Michele & Losing Out To Cory Monteith (X)

I’ve been pretty overt about the fact that I am straight,” Darren told Billy and Kit. “I think it’s an important thing to be explicit about — not for my own sexuality, but just as a general statement that I am comfortable with my sexuality and very comfortable with the fact that I’m playing a strong gay character.”

I’ve been pretty overt about the fact that I am straight,” Darren told Billy and Kit. “I think it’s an important thing to be explicit about — not for my own sexuality, but just as a general statement that I am comfortable with my sexuality and very comfortable with the fact that I’m playing a strong gay character.”

2013 Cosmo Guy” Darren Criss On Glee’s New Chapter   (X)

Q: You're not gay; you just play gay on TV. Do you ever feel the need to assert your heterosexuality?

A: No. I know who I am. I feel bad for guys who have to flex their muscles. But hey, if that's the way to make yourself feel comfortable as a man—as long as it isn't antagonizing anybody—go for it. I'm okay with your getting a Miata to feel like a dude; just don't be a dick about it.

Darren Criss Will No Longer Play Gay Characters (X)

Darren Criss has decided that he will no longer play gay characters. Why? Because he doesn’t want to be a straight actor taking potential roles from actors who actually identify as gay, he said in a recent interview with Bustle.

“There are certain [queer] roles that I’ll see that are just wonderful,” he explained. “But I want to make sure I won’t be another straight boy taking a gay man’s role.”

2018 Darren Criss on Playing Serial Killer Andrew Cunanan in ACS: Versace and Passing as White  (X)

You’ve also played a lot of gay and queer characters. Has playing these parts informed how you think about your sexuality or gender? That’s a great question. God, we need like an hour. Sure, yes. Absolutely. It definitely has. I think being queer in general evokes more self-questioning than somebody who’s cisgender straight, because you really have to explore a lot of things about yourself that are meeting resistance on conventional social levels. So you have to go, “Okay, cool. Is this really how I feel?” There are questions that arise within yourself that doesn’t have to happen if you live in a hetero-normative universe. So in that sense, I think the journey of questioning oneself, which everybody does anyway — and should do— I admire that narrative. Even though I am not gay myself, or queer, I am a storyteller, and I love and appreciate the strength of character it takes for someone to get through that, whether it was difficult or not. I’ve been very blessed in my career with being allowed in the gay community. Again, as a cisgendered straight dude, that’s not lost on me. I don’t take that for granted. It’s been such a huge part of my life, even pre-Glee. I come from San Francisco doing theater, man. Like, I was raised by gay men. Not literally at home, but you know, as a young kid doing theater, my friends were these men and women in their 20s, driving me home and getting me dinner. These were my adult figures in my life, so unconsciously I’ve always had such affection for the life, whatever that means. So I guess inhabiting a gay voice is important to me because it’s a voice that I find inspiring. 

These are just two of the many lies the cc fandom tell their followers in order to manipulate them into believing the fantasies that means much to them.  

[a-cup-of-polynectar]

FAME

Rebelde AU

Word count: 3,3 k

Characters: Minah, Jane, Tara, Sungjae, Tyler, Daniel

Fame has just as many downsides as it has perks…

Fame has just as many downsides as it has perks. One of them —the one concerning Minah Delacroix and Jane Durand at the moment— it’s the fact their private lives as part of one of the worldwide sensation that is Impulse, are always exposed to the scrutiny of the public eye. One would expect just as much considering the pop group became an overnight sensation across the globe after starring the namesake TV series, but after so many years of being harassed by paparazzi, the media and even their fans and having pretty much lost any remaining bit of privacy, Minah and Jane have somehow believed —rather innocently, to be fair— that gossip-hungry tabloids would be tired of them by then.

Yet, it seems the world can never get enough of them, which from Jane’s perspective is just as sad —for a media machinery that has nothing better to report— as it is beneficial for the group.

“If you see it the positive way, at least we’re still relevant enough for a simple interaction to make it to the headlines” Jane tries to comfort Minah, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.  It’s been the third rumor in a month regarding Minah’s romantic life and at this point, she’s dated a veteran Hollywood actor, the bassist from the most popular pop-rock band of the moment and now a member of the biggest boyband in South Korea —well, maybe biggest is a bit of an exaggeration, but they are undoubtedly the one with the most number of members if that serves as consolation—.

Deep inside, Minah knows Jane is right and had she not been harassed online by NCT’s fans, she would probably even go as far as to agree with her best friend out loud, but Minah is mentally exhausted and she just had the bad luck of bumping into Sungjae and his long time partner, holding hands in the elevator. Sungjae is one-sixth of Impulse and Minah’s former “love interest” in the drama series that launched them into stardom. He is also the love of her life, or at least that is what delusional fans and an even more delusional Tara —the third female member of the group— stubbornly insist on.

“I mean, will they ever get tired of us?” Minah groans, burying her face in a cushion and letting out a frustrated scream. Jane only pats her back sympathetically and bits on her lower lip. Should she say what she really believes or is this one of those situations where you tell a white lie to protect your friend’s feelings?

“I want to say yes, but it’s probably not going to happen anytime soon” someone else’s voice replies and for once in her life, Jane is actually glad to hear that voice. “I saw the news” Tyler Lee materializes behind the two women, holding a copy of Gossip Star in one hand and a coffee delivery box on the other. As per usual he’s clad in one of his head-to-toe signature Gucci outfits and looks as relaxed as a ten thousand dollar outfit allows him to.

Minah slowly lifts her head from the cushion, her hair a mess and her eyes red as though she had been shedding tears. She is about to snap at her groupmate when she recognizes the logo of her favorite coffee shop printed on the front of the box Tyler is now showing off with a silly smile. t’s been a nonspoken tradition for the group that whoever went to the coffee shop downstairs first was obligated to pick everybody else’s orders. It is usually either Sungjae or Jane in charge of the morning delivery, but since Sungjae was too busy doing whatever he was doing with his girlfriend and Jane spent the morning trying to humor Minah, the daily coffee dose is arriving later than expected.

Minah can’t help but let out a relieved sigh at the sight of coffee.

“I trusted you enough to never get involved with a member of the worst boyband in the world and yet you still managed to disappoint me picking the worst of them all” Tyler says, plopping on the empty spot on the sofa and chuckling lightly. It earns him a poke with the elbow and an eye-roll from Minah, but he is still smiling when he places the delivery box on the coffee table in front of them.  “I mean, it was expected from Jane…of course she has a terrible taste,” Tyler says that bit eyeing the blonde woman with a judgmental look that she completely ignores in order to keep the peace. The last thing Minah needs now is to be stuck in the middle of one of the day-to-day arguments between them. “Apparently she’s been sharing her tips on serial dating with you” Tyler attempts to joke “But, are you serious, Minah? Mark Yang?” Tyler scoffs, smirk still present on his lips.

Minah’s reply takes a lot longer than it has any right to do, just because she’s been feeling as though someone is hammering on her skull and Tyler’s voice has only made her headache worse.

“It is obviously a misunderstanding” she states, reaching for the paper cup that has her name written on. “It was just a simple interaction blown out of proportion. I met Mark at our lobby a few days ago and walked him out.” A sigh heaves from Minah’s lips before she takes a sip from her caramel macchiato. “I was just being a good friend-” she says that last bit without realizing the full implications and though she tries to move on from the topic, Tyler manages to ask the question, before she can bring up the TV show Tyler and Tara have been invited to.

“What do you mean you were being a good friend?”

“I- I was actually-“ Minah hesitates, not knowing what to say. It is not a secret for anyone that Tyler tends to be a tad overprotective of Tara, so letting him know that Mark was at their building a few days ago to see her didn’t sound much like a very clever idea. She has enough for the time being as well, she doesn’t think she can deal with Tyler’s annoying nagging without considering homicide.

“She was just making me a favor and returning Jaehyun’s stuff to Mark” Jane intervenes. For a brief second Minah is surprised by Jane’s ability to make up intricate lies on the spot, but she settles for a thankful smile thrown in her way and squeezing the blonde girl’s hand briefly.

“Yes, I was doing Jane a favor, but somehow I’m now involved in this mess,” Minah says recomposing herself. “It’s sooooo unfair”

“You know what’s truly unfair?” Another male voice asks from the hallway. “It’s unfair I can’t go to my own apartment because Sungjae and his lover are having a passionate rendezvous” Daniel, yet another sixth of the group snarls, walking into the living room as he pushes a pair of Chanel sunglasses over the bridge of his nose. “In this broad daylight, for god’s sake”.

Jane offers a glare to the newcomer and has to use all her self-restraint to stop herself from tackling him down, but he doesn’t notice her reaction or if he does he knows exactly how to pretend otherwise. Instead, he sits on the armrest of an empty couch and brings attention to the paper bag he has been holding this entire time.

“Brought donuts,” He says, lifting his hand playfully, “I thought miss Delacroix could indulge in some sugar and forget about the diet just for today”

Minah rolls eyes. Of course, Daniel would be the one reminding her how Sungjae is upstairs probably fucking that awful girlfriend of his while she is stuck in her apartment, dwelling on yet another groundless dating rumor. The young woman doubts for a second, but ultimately decides she needs something to pass the bitterness in her mouth.

“Thank you, but I know you just want me fat” Minah says, reaching to snatch the bag from Daniel’s hands and pulling a chocolate donut that she immediately places in her mouth. Comforted by the taste of chocolate and the mouthwatering and soft texture of the dough, she gives Daniel a thumbs up and offers one of the sugary treats to Jane and then to Tyler, who are looking at her with something that looks like concern.

“What? It’s just a donut, stop staring and eat before I eat them all” Minah grumbles. She is ready to go off on anyone who dares to annoy her on what might be one of the worst days of the month, but her group mates know better than to irritate her under the current circumstances and they are quick to do as they were told.

“You know, maybe next time you should let Tara deal with lover boy on her own” Daniel says, pensively sliding on the couch “If she had talked to Yang herself, you wouldn’t be involved in this mess” Daniel rolls eyes “With Yang of all people” He adds, scrunching up his nose. “You could do so much better in that group…” The guy briefly looks at Tyler as if to make sure he’s paying attention “Taeyong is such a cutie, for example. I wonder if he’s dating-”

“I thought you said Yang came to pick up Jaehyun’s stuff” Tyler scowls at Minah  

From her position on the sofa Jane can see Tyler’s jaw clench and Daniel’s eyes narrowing and though she is convinced her little lie is not to blame, she stills forces herself to speak to save Minah from Tyler’s accusations.

“I lied, ok? Mark came to see Tara, but she didn’t want to talk to him” Jane admits “So Minah went down and told him she wasn’t home”. The blonde girl attempts to wind up the conversation by picking a cup of coffee and sipping from it.

“Did you know that?” Tyler acknowledges Daniel presence for the first time, which is hilarious —for Jane anyhow,— considering Tyler has been unsuccessfully trying to ignore Daniel for almost a week now with less than stellar results because he always ended up being the first one to talk to him. Daniel only shrugs innocently in response and changes the topic.

“Is that my coffee?” He asks and without even waiting for a response he hovers over Tyler while he picks one of the cups on the table.

“I asked you a question” Tyler growls annoyed, which makes the other male smirk behind the rim of the cup as he sits back down.

“I happened to be here when he rang” Daniel says, a teasing tone lightly laces his words. The intention is rather clear “But Tara refused to receive him, so I didn’t think it was important at all-” he doesn’t finish his sentence, instead he spits the coffee right out and starts coughing and choking.

Jane checks her phone distractedly and Tyler snickers discreetly while Minah, sighing wearily, is the one who reaches to pat —rather violently— Daniel’s back and saves him from what he claims, could’ve been a potential death. Tyler rolls eyes at that.

“I think M messed up with my order because this is definitely not a mocha!” Daniel complains dramatically as he puts the cup on the table, glaring at it as though it had offended him.

“That or you drank Sungjae’s espresso” Jane points out, signaling the name written on the side of the cup.

“Who drank my what?” Speak of the devil. Sungjae’s voice causes everybody to redirect their attention towards the entrance hall, where he emerges looking tired and slightly disheveled, his hair sticking out in all sorts of directions.

Minah thinks she can recognize that expression and she immediately looks away. The only mental image of Sungjae and his girlfriend is like a knife to her chest and it has her stomach plummeting.

As pretentious as it sounds, Minah Delacroix is not used to not getting what she wants. From a young age she’s been handed everything she’s ever wanted —and many other things she never knew she needed— on a silver platter. Minah never had to ask for anything. Even her fame came swirling like a strike of good luck, becoming the wildly popular icon of the French ‘It-girl’ rather effortlessly. Her refined recklessness and unique beauty have secured her star status and now, Minah is at the top of the world. Knowing that there’s something —or rather someone— as close and yet unobtainable is a new sensation, unfamiliar and daunting, and she doesn’t like the feeling at all.

“Question is who allows you to dress like this” Tyler scowls, looking at Sungjae as though his clothes have insulted him.

The lives of Impluse’s members are usually filled with responsibilities and high expectations. They are expected to be graceful and composed at all times, only speak wise, clever words and never to have anything but a beautiful, perfect image in front of cameras and their fans. If any of them were to make one wrong move, the future of the group may be in peril. It is so rare to see any of them in anything than overly elaborated, expensive clothes, that Sungjae’s simple black jeans and t-shirt almost feel out of place —especially in comparison—.

“Anyhow, Daniel drank your coffee” Minah says, her eyes trying to avoid Sungjae’s once he occupies the place across her on an empty chair.

“What’s with the mood?” As the appointed leader of the group, Sungjae knows to recognize when something is off, and the way everybody is suddenly quiet and Minah plays with the hem of her blouse obviously raise his suspicions “Did something happen?”

“Nothing much, just the usual dating scandal of the week and Tyler being clueless” a haughty smirk guised as an innocent smile makes its way onto Daniel’s lips.

“Dating scandal?” Sungjae repeats, brows arching and eyes jumping from Minah to Jane, as though he is expecting them to elaborate on it.

“It’s not a scandal” Minah finally speaks after an exasperating moment of silence. “It’s just a picture blown way out of proportion” she says in a hushed voice, still not daring to look at Sungjae.

“What picture?” Sungjae inquires and Jane can’t ignore how tensed his words sound, as if he were keeping himself contained within his body.

“A picture of Minah talking to Mark Yang in the lobby of the building” Jane is fully aware of Minah’s conflicting feelings, so she helps her out.

“And what was Mark doing here?” Sungjae’s voice is calm and it slightly evokes the tone parents use to talk to their teenage children.

“Visiting Tara, apparently” Tyler replies sounding eager to bring up the fact Mark has been unsuccessfully trying to woo his sister, as if Sungjae needed to be enlightened as well.

“Ohhhh” Sungjae trails off, understanding what happened without further explanation.

“Yeap…” Jane nods along, grabbing her cup and pressing it to her lips.

“Wait, did you know it too?” Tyler lets out an offended snort and glares at Sungjae.

“Everybody knows, Tyler” Daniel deadpans “Move on.”

“So everybody knew of Yang harassing my sister and no one said anything about it?” Tyler inhales sharply. At this point, it wouldn’t be a surprise if there were actual steam escaping his nostrils. “How can you all be ok with it?” He questions raising his voice.

“No one is harassing Tara” Jane sighs tiredly.

“It sounds like that to me!” Tyler retorts angrily “If not why is my sister making excuses not to see him and sending people to talk to him?” He asks with a roll of his hazel eyes.

“For the same reason you keep giving Daniel the silent treatment” Jane snaps, making both Tyler and Daniel turn to her, looking more than aggravated. How she dared to use their couple issues against them? “It’s obvious they had an argument.”

“To have an argument they would need to be something other than simple acquaintances” Tyler points out, purposely ignoring Jane’s previous words  “Which judging by the sounds of it, they’re clearly not.” his eyes narrow, almost shutting close. “It’s all one-sided.” He states convinced.

“Not really” Jane counters back, eyes looking wearily at Tyler “Mark likes her and she likes him too. She just doesn’t want a relationship for the time being.”

“Not to mention she is afraid of romance” Minah sighs absentmindedly, without realizing she’s voicing her thoughts out loud. When she does, a fraction of second later, she covers her mouth as if she’d just blurted out one of her own secrets.

“That’s nonsense” Tyler rolls eyes “What is there to be afraid?” He crosses his arms over his chest rather childishly, “She just doesn’t like him”.

“Falling in love can be pretty scary” Minah doesn’t know where that confession is coming from and she’s pretty sure she’s probably talking about herself at this point, but she still goes on, her eyes briefly settling on Sungjae longingly before looking down at her lap “Especially when you’re in this industry” she lets out a long sigh “And unfortunately we are not the greatest of the examples, Tara believes she’s gonna get hurt and she doesn’t want to be just like us”

Silence fills the room for a moment that seems to last hours, filled with gazes and expressions that try to convey all the things no one in that group is brave enough to say.

Fame has just as many downsides as it has perks. There is glamour and shoes and handbags and expensive cars and exclusive invites to even more exclusive parties. There are the picture-perfect smiles on the front covers of magazines, the platinum albums and TV interviews and everything in between they’ve given up in order to keep the appearances. There are Jane’s failed relationships, Tyler and Daniel’s constant arguments, Minah’s willingness to settle for anyone as long as it helps her to bury her real feelings deep inside and of course, there’s Sungjae, holding desperately onto the last bit of his life before stardom, the last thing that makes him feel like the ordinary person he sometimes craves to be.

There’s only giving up.

“What do you mean we’re not a good example to her?” Tyler narrows his eyes dangerously. “I am a great example, thank you so much”

“Yes, watching you and Daniel fight every day is undoubtedly a great example” Jane snorts.

“Maybe it’s you not being able to date the same guy for more than a week that’s truly a bad example” Tyler retorts hurt. Jane looks at him, offense widening her eyes, mouth hanging open. It was a low blow.

“Ok, this is about enough” Sungjae has been massaging his temples for a while now and his voice is scarily calm when he finally speaks. “This is getting ridiculous. Whoever Tara is or is not dating is definitely none of our concern. It’s Tara’s personal life” He says, trying to reason, although he already knows Tyler will protest using some stupid excuse.

“That is probably none of your concern, but in case you’ve forgotten Tara is my sister” Tyler states, his lips slowly curling into a wry smirk before letting out a huff.

“It’s still none of your concern” Tara walks into the room and occupies the only available spot next to Sungjae. “But just so you know, none of you have anything to worry about” She says, smoothing the wrinkles of her skirt distractedly. “The fact I don’t want a relationship right now has nothing to do with any of you” That is a blatant lie and everybody is painfully aware of it at some level, but they —unusually wisely— choose to take her word and move on.

Fame has just as many perks as it has downsides. For Impulse, the greatest pop group in the world, one of them is sharing their daily lives with one another, for better or for worst, amid loud screams and even louder laughs or silent coffee breaks where there’s no need to talk because even silences carry their own meanings.

This one is one of them.

—

[ts1989fanatic]

ts1989fanatic Sorry about posting this but it pissed me off so much I had to share it with other or have my head explode. I’m pretty sure I have seen other Daily Beast articles in the past by this same so called writer that were just as critical (WRONGLY) of Taylor Swift.

It’s Time for Taylor Swift to Denounce Her Neo-Nazi Admirers

The pop superstar is worshipped as an ‘Aryan goddess’ by the white supremacist community. In the wake of Charlottesville, the least she could do is speak out.

In a world overrun by the idiotic and underqualified, it’s tempting to credit public figures with nonexistent cunning or forethought.

As nice as it is to imagine that the president of the United States isn’t just “ad-libbing” on North Korea, the facts maintain that there isn’t any sort of political chess at play here—everyone and everything really is as dumb as it seems.

With one exception. In an era of unbridled ids, impetuous boys, and impromptu boasts, there is one woman who is consistently 10 steps ahead: a pop music Machiavelli and Svengali of mutually beneficial relationships who also happens to be a pretty talented EDM scribe.

Naturally we’re talking about Taylor Alison Swift (alias: Nils Sjoberg), a 27-year-old singer-songwriter with a rare talent for self-preservation. Taylor Swift famously maintains strict control over her brand, and has been criticized in the past for her superficiality and attention to detail. From drafting an A-list squad of giraffe-legged pals to threatening to take legal action against some ardent fans on Etsy, Swift seems like a woman who knows exactly what she wants. Taylor Swift might look like a harmless, sugary-sweet pop princess, but make no mistake: This woman keeps Ryan Reynolds’ soul in a calligraphy-labeled Mason jar on her Rhode Island estate. She is not fucking around.

Somehow, through sheer strength of will, Taylor Swift convinced her millions of fans that she was a very sweet and chill girl next door. She realized that feminism was in and began marketing herself as a proponent of girl power, a victim of narcissistic and entitled dudes who would, nevertheless and against all odds, persist. But Swift’s delicate house of vaguely feminist aphorisms and carefully posed lady-Instagrams came tumbling down last summer, when Kim Kardashian outed Swift on Snapchat. The details of that social media checkmate—Swift condemned Kanye’s lyrics, harnessed this victimhood for her public image, was thwarted by leaked footage of Kanye running the track by her in the studio and then reduced to a Notes app statement—are already the stuff of legend. It was the “Kim you’re doing amazing sweetie” heard ’round the world. Unexpectedly pushed into an abyss of unlikability and overexposure, Swift quickly went into crisis/self-imposed exile mode: R.I.P. Hiddleswift, highly publicized squad parties, post-workout crab walks, and the days of underestimating Mrs. Kim Kardashian West.

Luckily for those of us with an appetite for drama and Tracy Flick-style anti-heroines, Taylor Swift plays a long game. Last week, Swift made her first major move since the summer of her Snapchat discontent, testifying in court against former radio DJ David Mueller. The jury ultimately sided with Swift, who alleged that Mueller had “intentionally reached under [Swift’s] skirt, and groped with his hand an intimate part of her body in an inappropriate manner, against her will, and without her permission” during a 2013 meet-and-greet. What happened to Swift was horrible and, as her suit stresses, against her will. But how the pop star chose to present herself in court worked completely to her advantage. When asked about her knowledge of police procedurals, Swift joked about her love of Law & Order: SVU—relatable! When pressed on why no one else witnessed the groping, Swift countered, “Because my ass is located in the back of my body.” Humor, wit, poise, just enough venom and an anatomy lesson to boot? Is it just me, or is 2017 “taking the stand” Taylor Swift actually likable?

At a time when many of us are just barely surviving off a steady diet of revenge fantasies and rage, it makes perfect sense for Swift to rebrand herself a pretty blonde vengeance demon. Why be a saccharine singer-songwriter when you can be an Arya Stark? Likability is so close that TayTay can probably taste it, and I think I’ve come up with a way to finally put her over the edge: All Taylor Swift has to do is denounce neo-Nazis.

Denouncing neo-Nazis might sound like a low bar or a meaningless declaration—if you don’t happen to be rocking a Fred Perry polo and holding a tiki torch your buddy Cole picked up for you at Party City and/or the president of the United States, you should have no problem condemning Nazism. And why should a pop singer have to personally clarify her position on white supremacy? This question would be perfectly valid if we were talking about Selena Gomez, Katy Perry, Beyoncé, or any other major female celebrity who hasn’t been heralded in certain dark corners of the internet as an Aryan princess/secret neo-Nazi. Unfortunately, Taylor Swift has long taken on a starring role in some pretty sick Nazi fan fiction.

In an in-depth 2016 Broadly article, neo-Nazi Andrew Anglin of The Daily Stormer explained Swift’s fashy appeal: “Firstly, Taylor Swift is a pure Aryan goddess, like something out of classical Greek poetry. Athena reborn. That’s the most important thing,” Anglin insisted. “It is also an established fact that Taylor Swift is secretly a Nazi and is simply waiting for the time when Donald Trump makes it safe for her to come out and announce her Aryan agenda to the world. Probably, she will be betrothed to Trump’s son, and they will be crowned American royalty.”

Now, it follows that Swift wouldn’t want to dignify these lunatic ravings with a response, or spend any more time than absolutely necessary contemplating a relationship with either of Donald Trump’s large adult sons. But at a certain point—preferably before a white supremacist website publishes dozens of posts praising her Aryan bloodline—it might behoove a celebrity to publicly condemn the racist anti-Semites who are claiming her as their queen. People like Anglin seem to genuinely believe that Swift will be on their side come race war Armageddon. And now that Nazis and counter-protestors are actually fighting in the streets, there’s no time like the present for Taylor Swift to finally come out as anti-Nazi.

After an act of domestic terrorism in Charlottesville left one woman dead, The Daily Stormer—aka Taylor Swift’s unofficial fan site—mocked the victim of the white nationalist attack. For GoDaddy, The Daily Stormer’s obscene and disturbing language was enough to convince them to finally dump the neo-Nazi website. Taylor Swift needs to get in on all this Nazi condemnation action. Why should Jennifer Lawrence get all the likes?

Now, in the past, Swift has scrupulously avoided any sort of political statement. She expresses her “feminism” through sanitized non-statements like, “I’m proud to be a woman today, and every day.” Not only did she refuse to endorse a presidential candidate—she wouldn’t even denounce the candidate who was accused of serial sexual assault. Given Swift’s history of failing to do the bare minimum, and her past swastika mini-scandal, it’s unlikely that she’ll make an anti-Nazi statement. Then again, the bar has never been so low. No one is expecting Taylor Swift to go on the campaign trail for Kamala Harris or exhibit a working knowledge of intersectionality—just to condemn the neo-Nazi community that’s already claimed her as one of their own.

Say it after me, TayTay: “I, Taylor Swift, denounce Nazis. And I am not attracted to Eric Trump.”

ts1989fanatic THIS IS TOTAL BULLSHIT AND Taylor should ignore this crap.

[lucifer-gift-exchange]

Fic: Where There's Smoke, There's Ire [1/3] (Deckerstar)

Where There’s Smoke, There’s Ire [1/3] to @wondertwinc / from @ghostofstartraveller776

A serial killer is on the loose, targeting couples shortly before their weddings. To catch him, Special Agent Chloe Decker has to enlist the help of Lucifer Morningstar, a roguish nightclub owner and new civilian consultant for the FBI.

Tags: Mild Language, Descriptions of a Crime Scene, Canon-Typical Violence, FBI AU, Fake Relationship, Humor, Crime Fighting, Shameless Flirting, Questionable Law Enforcement Lingo, Ridiculous Shenanigans

Written for @wondertwinc for the 2017 Lucifer Gift Exchange. The characterizations here are closer to early season one for our heroes. Also, I intended this to be a oneshot, but my muse ain’t cooperating. I hope you enjoy your gift! :)

made for round 1 of the @lucifer-gift-exchange

WHERE THERE’S SMOKE, THERE’S IRE (Part 1 of 3)

Special Agent Chloe Decker grit her teeth to keep from yawning as she walked through the crowd of first responders toward her crime scene. Several firetrucks and police cars were scattered on the deserted highway, multi-colored lights flashing in the darkness. Beyond, members of the FBI’s ERT were sweeping the ground with flashlights near a sedan parked in a graveled turnout. They paused to take photographs and collect evidence.

She stifled another yawn. Three a.m. calls were never easy, and she was grateful that her mother was visiting this month. Finding a sitter for Trixie at this god-awful hour would have been a challenge, especially when her ex, Dan Espinoza, was another agent on the case. In fact, he was already here, standing next to the vehicle, frowning at his phone. He glanced up and, catching her eye, waved her over.

“We got lucky with this one.” He nodded toward the car when she joined him.

The paint on the late model sedan was scorched near the fuel tank, but it was otherwise unmarred. No kidding, this was a lucky break.

“Looks like someone scared off our unsub before he could get the blaze going,” Dan continued.

“Any survivors?” she asked, hugging herself against the chilly night air.

Dan’s mouth thinned in a grim line. “No. But we knew burning them was a forensic counter measure.”

Chloe sucked in a breath, glancing at the vehicle. “Are we sure this is our guy?”

“Oh, yeah.” He gestured for her to take a look, and she pulled a flashlight from a loop on her belt as she picked her way over to the front of the car.

She flashed the light in the interior and blew out a sigh. Yep. Definitely their guy. In the driver’s seat was a male victim slouched against the door, skin unnaturally pale and a patch of dried blood at his temple. A female victim was propped in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead with lifeless eyes. She was as sallow as her companion. They’d been dead for a while. Chloe wasn’t going to be surprised when these two turned out to be a few months shy of tying the knot—just as the others had been.

“So, this is great!” a peppy feminine voice exclaimed next to Chloe. She turned toward the source, canting a brow at Ella Lopez from the Evidence Recovery Team.

Ella gave her an apologetic smile. “Well, not great for them. But really great for us.” She pointed to the male behind the steering wheel. “We knew that the killer incapacitated the grooms with blunt force against the temple. I still haven’t figured out what he uses. It isn’t cylindrical like a baseball bat. A hammer is too small. Maybe a mallet?”

“Ella,” Chloe interrupted, hoping to get the young woman back on track.

“Right, okay.” Ella darted to the passenger side of the car and opened the door. She leaned in over the female as she fished a penlight out of her front pocket. “We haven’t been able to figure out how he was killing the brides. We tested the tissue samples from the other remains—and let me tell you, there’s not a lot—but they came back negative for any kind of controlled substance. There have been hyoid fractures, but that could also be from the massive temps produced by the fires.”

Chloe and Dan stepped closer as Ella pointed her light at the victim’s face.

“Voila! Petechial hemorrhaging in the eyes.” Ella waved a hand like a gameshow hostess. “And there’s a slight discoloration around her mouth. It’s looking like good, old fashioned suffocation. Probably with a pillow. I’m betting I’ll find some trace, but we’ll know more when we get them back to the coroner’s.”

Dan gave the girl a curt nod. “This is top priority,” he said. “They’re the fourth couple in the last seven months.”

“You got it, boss.” Ella gave him a jaunty salute before turning back to the victims.

Dan ushered Chloe a little distance away. “Just before you got here,” he said, “I got a call from the OTD guys, and they’ve found a correlation between our vics—aside from the obvious.”

Chloe gave the deceased a cursory glance. They fit the bill in every way. Husband-to-be tall with dark hair. His sweetheart petite and blond. Age seemed to be less important to the unsub. The first victims were middle-aged, but these two were barely out of college.

“It looks like the previous three couples participated in a special retreat for folks who’re looking to get hitched. The—” Dan searched his phone, “—Happily-Ever-After Workshop.” He looked up at Chloe. “Apparently it changes venues.”

“That explains why we’ve been finding our victims all over Southern California.”

He made a noise of agreement. “The next one is in three weeks.” He glanced back at his phone. “At The Lodge in Big Bear. But we should probably start interviewing people from the workshop right away.”

She chewed her lip as she considered their options. “No,” she said after a beat, shaking her head. “If we start rounding up people from the workshop, he’ll go into hiding.”

“You have something else in mind?” Dan raised his brows with that dubious look he got sometimes when conferring with her on a case. Their split had been amicable for the most part, but there were brief moments when he suffered from a dose of machismo when it came to work.

She ignored it like she always did. “We need him to feel safe, especially after this debacle. So, we let him think we’re still spinning our heels. In the meantime, we go undercover at the workshop in Big Bear. See if we can’t smoke him out.” She cringed inwardly at the unfortunate pun.

“Undercover?” Ella popped her head out of the car. “That’s so cool!” She looked Chloe over. “And you totally fit the profile for the bride. You just need a groom. Sorry Dan, you’ve got the hair, but not the height. No offense.”

Dan raised his arms with a rueful laugh. “None taken.”

Ella’s eyes lit up with sudden inspiration. “Oh! Oh! You know who would be perfect?”

Chloe’s expression went flat when she realized exactly who Ella meant. “Yeah, no. No.”

“Oh, come on!” Ella argued. “You know he’d be great. And he’s already got the clearance to work on the case—being a consultant and all.”

What Ella wasn’t mentioning was the mercurial nature of Lucifer Morningstar. He was self-centered at best, only working the cases he thought might amuse him. At worst, he was completely nuts. The man claimed to be the devil—the literal king of hell.

Chloe glanced at Dan in the hopes that he’d back her up, but he gave her a shrug. “Hey, I don’t like the guy,” he said, “but Ella’s got a point. He does fit the victim profile.”

Chloe looked heavenward, swallowing back a groan. If Lucifer agreed to do the op, she’d have to spend a weekend pretending to be madly in love with him. Definitely not the highlight of her career, but if she caught her killer, it’d be worth the hassle.

“Fine. I’ll ask him.”

—0o0—

It was a week before Chloe darkened the doors of Lux, Lucifer’s nightclub. She had to give it to the man; this place was exactly what she’d expect to be owned by the devil. The music was just the right mix of bass and rhythm that enticed her to move her body, though she didn’t. The décor was classy rather than trendy, packed with beautiful people, drinking, laughing, grinding. Several patrons gave her lingering gazes as she made her way to the bar, and she felt a little like she was at a meat market. A hyper-sexualized one.

But that was unsurprising considering the proprietor’s own moral-free attitude. God, she hoped he wasn’t already having a private party in his suit upstairs.

She shook her head, wondering how he’d ended up becoming a consultant for the FBI. No, actually. She knew how it happened. They’d crossed paths a few months back during a celebrity kidnapping. The celebrity had been a friend of his, and when the case had unfortunately turned into a murder investigation, he’d strong-armed his way onto the team using his considerable charm and wit. (He did end up proving moderately useful on that and other cases.)

Chloe didn’t understand why everyone seemed to fall over themselves whenever he was around. Yeah, he was a handsome guy; she wasn’t blind. Yeah, he had a British accent—which was all the rage lately in the States. She got it. But he was kind of a nuisance, too.

“I think you want the cop bar four streets over.”

Chloe glanced up at Mazikeen before taking a stool. Lucifer’s right hand woman was beautiful and a little bit intimidating. If Lucifer was crazy, then Mazikeen was one wrong look away from committing mass murder.

“I’m not a cop,” Chloe said as she had a dozen times before. “FBI, remember?”

Mazikeen glowered at her. “Yeah, well, you all stink the same.”

Chloe sighed. She didn’t know why she bothered. “I came to see your boss. Is he available?”

Mazikeen sucked the insides of her cheeks, crossing her arms. “That depends on what you need him for.” She didn’t care for her boss’s side job helping out the FBI, and she made sure Chloe knew it.

Fortunately, the man in question sidled up next to Chloe, casually resting a hip against the bar as he grinned at her. He looked as stylish as ever in a white button-down, open at the color, and tailored black suit. He always dressed as though a spontaneous photoshoot might break out at any given moment.

“Special Agent Decker.” He made her name sound like a double entendre. “What brings you to my little den of iniquity?”

She inhaled a steeling breath. Here goes nothing. “Mr. Morningstar—”

“Lucifer, please.” He splayed a hand against his chest with an impish smile. “I’d like to think after all we’ve been through that we’ve become too intimate for formalities.”

She rolled her eyes. How was she going to put up with him day and night for a weekend? “Lucifer, I need your help.”

“Oh! I like the sound of that.” His tongue flicked across his bottom lip as he looked her over in obvious appreciation. “Tell me, my dear: how can the devil be of assistance? Have you finally come to schedule our naked playdate? If so, you’re in luck. I happen to be free right now.”

As incorrigible as ever, but that might work in her favor. “Good.” She leaned closer to him and watched his brows rise with eager anticipation. “Because I need your help on a case.”

His glee vanished, replaced by chagrin. “Oh.”

Mazikeen slapped her palms against the bar, making Chloe jump. “He can’t do it.” She narrowed her eyes. “He’s too busy to play cops and robbers with you.”

“Now, now, Maze.” Lucifer waved off his rabid protector. “Let’s hear the agent out before you threaten to toss her out on her backside.”

“Fine.” Mazikeen threw her hands up as she stepped back to retrieve a pair of glasses and a bottle of bourbon. She poured a finger of the amber liquid in each tumbler, passed one to Lucifer and then took a sip out of the other. “Well? What are you waiting for?” she snapped at Chloe. “Tell him about the case.” She made no move to leave.

Chloe pulled a file from her satchel without argument. She could demand that Mazikeen give them privacy, that the woman didn’t have clearance to hear what she was about to share, but it’d be like talking to a brick wall. Instead, Chloe gave Lucifer the file. “You’ve heard about the Lover’s Lane killer, right?”

“Yes.” He flipped through the folder, making a face when he found the crime scene photos. “Firebombing couples in the throes of passion is really quite rude, isn’t it? I mean, I hope he at least waited until they finished the deed before he turned up the proverbial heat.”

“Yeah, well, we caught a break,” she said without correcting his erroneous presumptions. There would be plenty of time to read him in if he decided to help out. She turned a page in the file and pointed at a case note. “It looks like all of the victims participated in a retreat for engaged couples. The Happily-Ever-After Workshop.”

“Hm. Never heard of it,” Lucifer said, frowning at the paperwork in his hands. “But then I’m rather against monogamy on principle. Why force yourself to eat the same meal every day for the rest of your life when there are so many other carnal delights to be had?”

Chloe let out a quiet snort at that. God, this man. “There’s another workshop in two weeks, and I’m asking if you’ll attend it with me—undercover.”

He quirked a brow, then glanced back at the victim profiles. “Oh, right. Because you and I together—” he waved a finger over the photos, “—we’re exactly the killer’s type.”

“Yes.”

He gave her another once over. “And we’d have to play the doting lovers, is it?”

“Yep.”

He seemed to mull it over, and she held her breath as she waited for his answer. The op would go forward with or without him, but they might have more success if they could lure the unsub to them rather than covertly attempt to ferret him out.

“You know,” Lucifer replied a moment later, “this actually sounds like fun. You can count me in, Agent.”

Mazikeen swirled her drink. “Me, too.”

And that was where Chloe had to draw the line. “Ah, no. This is only for those working the case. Lucifer is a consultant. You’re not.”

Mazikeen leaned forward on her elbows, the movement putting her nose to nose with Chloe. “Where he goes, I go,” she explained in a cold voice. “I’m coming and you can’t stop me.” She stared Chloe down, and the look probably would’ve had most people screaming for the hills.

But Chloe wasn’t most people. She glared right back, ready to tell Mazikeen that under no uncertain terms was she tagging along, but Lucifer spoke before she could.

“Ladies, ladies,” he said. “As much as I enjoy a good catfight—especially over me—I’m sure we can come to an arrangement.” He gave Chloe a placating smile. “You really can’t stop Maze when she sets her mind to something. Hell would freeze over before she relents, and as the world’s foremost authority on the place, I can say that’s never happened. So, she comes.”

Mazikeen let out a smug harrumph.

“But,” Lucifer continued, his gaze turning on her, “she will be on her best behavior. Hm?”

She rolled her eyes, but said nothing.

“Okay, fine.” Chloe leveled a hard look at the other woman. “But if you mess up my op in any way—”

“Oh, I won’t,” Mazikeen countered. “You just better hope that you find that killer before I do.”

“That’s settled, then!” Lucifer clapped his hands. “Shall we drink to it? Perhaps a round of celebratory sex? For research purposes, of course. I really want to dive into the role right away.”

“You know, what? I think we’re done here.” Chloe took the file back and stood up. “I’ll get back to you with the details.” She began to walk away, hoping to escape any further suggestive comments that he might have.

“Your loss, Agent!” he called to her back.

“I’ll learn to live with it!” she yelled without turning around.

Catching the killer was going to be the easy part of this op. Not shooting Lucifer before the workshop was over would be the real challenge.

~TBC~

[melanatedgenesis]

Crime in Color: Stop Ignoring Us

In a world where the voices and stories of people of color are ignored, Keyerra is here to bring them to the forefront. Keyerra is the host of true crime podcast Crime in Color, a podcast that speaks about minorities in true crime. Every week she shares different cases, not just the basic facts of the case, but the stories of the victims and survivors. She makes it known that this podcast “is not commentary on black on black crime”, so don’t get the wrong idea, she isn't here for that. I was able to sit down with her and talk about the beginning of  Crime in Color, cases that hit close to home and even the criminal she would like to sit down and interrogate.

Melanated Genesis: Why did you feel the need to start Crime in Color?

Keyerra: It all started with a disagreement on Twitter with another podcaster about the representation of people of color in true crime. She didn’t understand why it was necessary for their stories to be told. People of color go unnoticed, they don't get as much attention as the pretty white girl that goes missing, which they should.

For example there was a Latina woman that went missing a few months before Lacie Peterson. She was kidnapped and murdered, however no one knows about her story.

MG: So the idea of Crime in Color came to mind, how long did it take for you to move forward with it?

Keyerra: A couple of months. I told myself that I needed to put it out by June 1st. I took the plunge, picked a topic and went for it. If I didn't do it by June 1st, I knew I wasn't going to do it.

MG: Why June 1st?

Keyerra: Just a date. 1st of the month. I needed to start, and once I started I had to be consistent. It’s a lot of work and a process. Researching topics and perfecting my format, but I think i’ve got it now.

MG: How do you report on topics that hit close to home? You did an angry rant on Kenneka Jenkins, what is that like for you?

Keyerra: It’s hard. I have to separate the story from myself. But I also feel like recognizing that this could happen to anyone gives me more reason to talk about it. However, the domestic violence episode was hard and it scared me. At that point, I have to breathe and know that it has been solved and if it hasn’t been solved it confirms that I need to put this story out there in hopes that if anyone knows anything they will take it to the police.

MG: What has the response been to the podcast?

Keyerra: It has been great. Everyone agrees CIC is something that was needed and didn't even realize it was missing. However, I would like to point out that I am not the only podcast that does this. There is another podcast that speaks about people of color in true crime called “It’s About Damn Crime”. 

MG: Many podcasts consist of two or more people, how is it recording by yourself?

Keyerra: It’s weird. I find that I often have conversations with myself. I do have to stop and gather my thoughts, reread sentences and re-record. If someone else was there it would easier to have a natural banter. The benefit of being solo is that it allows me to keep episodes short and I like that. I would love to share the workload though.

MG: Do you want to have guests on the show?

Keyerra: I definitely want guests and if I had a guest and we had good chemistry I could see that person being a co-host. I think that would be a great way to find a co-host.

MG: How do find cases? If I were to look at your Google searches right now what would I find?

Keyerra: Right now you would find “Killer kids”,not just kids that kill for fun, but kids that killed their abusers and attackers in self-defense.  You would also find black male victims, missing persons, and unsolved mysteries. I normally go through Murderpedia or Wikipedia and search through different crimes by country to find something obscure if possible. But the more obscure, the less information and it is super hard to build an episode from that; That’s one of the struggles when trying to be  “different”.

MG: Murderpedia? That is crazy I’ve never heard of that.

Keyerra: I find many cases on there. I use wikipedia a lot which led me to the case about the lynching of Ed Johnson.

My google terms are probably going to get flagged because I Google at work and they probably think I’m crazy.

MG: So how do you sleep at night? Like I can only listen to your episodes during the day.

Keyerra: It’s nothing for me, I’ve been into this since middle school. The true crime doesn't affect me, its the police procedurals on shows like Criminal Minds and CSI with the fictional characters that keep me up at night.

MG: How do you introduce yourself at networking events? 

Keyerra: A podcaster. I am true crime podcaster. That’s my side hustle. My day job is an accounting technician.

MG: That sounds like the storyline of a criminal. Accounting technician by day serial killer by night.

Keyerra: Kills people with my awesome stories.

MG: If you could sit down with one criminal who would it be?

Keyerra: Rodney Alcola, he was the guy that changed my life with true crime, after that  I became obsessed. He was the serial killer who was on the show “The Dating Game” and then won. No one knew he was was a serial killer. I would like to know just, why? Why them? Are they alive?

MG: What is your ultimate goal for Crime in Color?

Keyerra: It would be for one of the missing persons cases I’ve reported on to be solved and collab with other podcasts. However, having people like the podcast and hitting 43,000 listens is mindblowing. Not even sure how that’s possible, but I’m blessed and thankful.

MG: What does the future have in store for CIC?

Keyerra: Serial Killer series, bringing back “What’s up/What’s new in the news” segment. I want to continue creating my blog, but I am exploring different platforms that best fit what I’m trying to do. So that will be coming as soon as I can get that straightened out.

MG: Crime in Color talks about serious topics, but is it a creative outlet for you?

Keyerra: Yes. It causes me to work on writing and storytelling. Helps me write to captivate the listener. Teaches me how to arrange the story, whether to write chronologically or narratively and it has helped me become personable.

I want to thank Keyerra for sitting down with me and breaking down the reasons  Crime in Color is needed and why it is so important to her.

For all my True Crime lovers you can listen to Crime In Color on Apple Podcasts, Soundcloud, Stitcher & Google Play

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For Whom the Bell Tolls Part 1: First They Came for the Immigrants

For  Ernest Hemingway, the search for meaning involved life and death challenges and compelling narratives.  He hunted wild game in Africa, ran with the bulls in Pamplona and immortalized Carlos Gutierrez, his Cuban deep sea fishing companion, in his 1953 classic, “The Old Man and the Sea.”   “For Whom the Bell Tolls,” set in 1930s Europe during the Spanish Civil War is a different kind of novel.  It isn’t primarily devoted to Hemingway’s lifelong penchant for danger and adventure.  It also raises some deep, existential questions: “What are our moral and political responsibilities to others?” and  “What is it that impels us to become involved in a cause that takes us beyond our immediate needs and self interest,?”

When I reflect on my own political involvement,  I recall emotionally charged commitments to causes like the Civil Rights movement in the 1960s and the anti-war movement in the 1970s.   From a youth spent in psychological and political rebellion, I can testify to the fact that viewing the world in black and white, either/or terms can generate a lot of zealotry and emotional intensity.  Sometimes it also fostered a sense of grandiosity.  It  inflated my personal sense of power and distorted my perception of what was possible to achieve.  

When bells toll later in life, as they are for me during this era of Trump, the volume is lower.  Their muted tones may reflect my disappointment in the ways that people continue to be manipulated by demagogues, clinging to their preferred prejudices, while ignoring compelling evidence indicating that those leaders who they are supporting are not acting in their interest.   I find myself ready to take some kind of action, while at the same time being less trustful of people in general and of the political process in particular.  My positive expectations about what is possible is tempered by the fear-based tribalism that I am witnessing in America at this time - the rigid polarizations and arrogant, self-righteousness that so frequently overrides reason and the desire to find common ground.  Sometimes It feels as if something ominous is descending upon us and that another dark chapter in human history is about to begin.  

As with most of us, I have found it easier to realize my obligations to the people I am closest to.  In that regard, I have a pretty good idea when I am rising to the occasion or falling short.  Family roles are fairly prescribed and the deep bonds that we form tend to reinforce the devoted efforts that we make.  When there is a call for some other kind of activity - something that might be called political or societal - the choices become hazier, involvement can feel more discretionary.

I have learned that unless someone is directly affected by a situation or is a prime mover in an organization or political movement, questions about involvement and commitment will invariably arise: “Is this really anything that has to do with me,?” or “Will this affect me personally?“  And even if something  politically and morally outrageous is unfolding in front of us, like Donald Trump’s recent “zero-tolerance policy” that separated migrants from their infants at the American border, questions can come to mind such as, “What am I being called upon to do,?”  “How much of a difference will my actions really make?” and  “In the larger scheme of things and with so many powerful forces out there, do my efforts even matter?”  But this is the point where psychology and social responsibility intersect - where the relationship between what is personal and what is political overlap.

Besides all of the mundane reasons we might offer for why we are not involving ourselves in political and moral struggles, there is one word that I believe underpins it all and that is Privilege.  As a retired, middle class, college educated, white, straight male receiving a fairly secure pension, social security benefits and government sponsored health insurance - while living in an environmentally safe, low crime area - I am indeed privileged.  History teaches us that people who possess even a little bit of privilege can feel superior to and be turned against those who have less.  The following is a list of some of the burdens carried by the less privileged among us, told from the perspective of someone in my position, who at this moment is less affected by some of the policies of the regime in power.

I am not a Muslim, so I am not  living in fear of increased hate crimes and government restrictions on relatives of mine trying to travel to the U.S.

I am not an immigrant trying to escape a life threatening situation, seeking asylum in the U.S. and separated from her children at the border.  

I am not a DACA recipient, brought to the U.S. by my parents as a child and living in limbo, not knowing whether or not I will soon be deported.

I am not a trans person in the military who has been marginalized by the president and told that I can no longer serve my country, or a member of the LGBTQ community knowing that I may become the next target in my president’s and the Religious Right’s war against gender diversity.

I am not a Mexican American living in the United States at this time, having been characterized by the president of the United States as a suspected “criminal and rapist,”  with my teenage children subject to chants of “build that wall” at basketball tournaments played with predominantly white teams.  

I am not African American in the United States during an era in which the president of my country fostered a nativist lie about the black former president to build his  political base, a man whose first senior advisor is a leader of the alt-right, a political figure who always remains in some proximity to  white supremacists and who regularly denigrates the intelligence of black athletes and politicians.  

I am not a poor person in America at a time when food stamps, Medicaid and other parts of the social safety net are under attack.  

I am not female in America at a time when women across the nation are losing their right to safe, available abortions on demand.  In not being a woman, I am also not subject to the fall out from being objectified by a president who is a serial philanderer and a sexually assaultive male who has boasted about his attacks on members of my group.  

I am not a worker in America at a time when my right to join a union and have it bargain collectively for my living wage and health benefits are being undermined.  

I am not a person with an illness or pre-existing condition seeking health insurance under this administration and I am not facing  financial hardship or bankruptcy because I have an illness.  I do not need to choose between food and medication as many do in this, the wealthiest country in the world.  

I am not an environmental victim of floods or fires brought on by global warming, living in an era in which my president and his political party deny the science of climate change and are rolling back environmental regulations that could endanger my own life and the lives of my children.

I am not a child or an adult suffering from asthma or other conditions that will predictably worsen because of the loosening of air quality regulations by an EPA run by the industries it is supposed to monitor.  

I am not a journalist in America at a time when my president has vilified me and called me “an enemy of the people,” making me vulnerable to the types of attacks that regularly occur under authoritarian regimes.  

Martin Niemoller was a Protestant minister who regretted not speaking out during the rise of fascism in Germany prior to The Holocaust and spent the last seven years of Nazi rule in a concentration camp.  His famous quote about Hitler’s early scapegoats has important implications for Donald Trump’s America in 2018.  It may be significant that Trump has first targeted immigrants, the most vulnerable people in our nation - those with the least power to speak out and fight back:  

  “First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out -

   Because I was not a Socialist.

   Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out -

   Because I was not a Trade Unionist.

   Then they came for the Jews, and I didn’t speak out -

   Because I was not a Jew.

   Then they came for me - and there was no one left to speak for me.

Connecting the historical dots back to Ernest Hemingway’s iconic novel about the Spanish Civil War, there may be important lessons to be drawn from 1930s Europe that can provide insight into what is occurring in the world today.  In 1936, Spain became the first battleground between the defenders of democracy and the reactionary forces of Europe prior to World War II.  The Nationalists, led by General Francisco Franco, backed by the Catholic Church and the Spanish aristocracy, attacked the army of the Republic, receiving munitions, air support and soldiers from Nazi Germany and fascist Italy.  Seeing this as an epic battle between fascism and democracy, tens of thousands of volunteers from around the world came to defend the Republic.  Among them were progressives, leftist intellectuals and writers like Ernest Hemingway and George Orwell.  The painting Guernica, by Pablo Picasso is a depiction of the horrors perpetrated by the Nationalist air force on civilians, the first time in human history that local populations were subjected to an aerial bombardment.  Without the support of the Western democracies, the International Brigades and other forces loyal to the Republic were overtaken by Franco’s Nationalists.  Emboldened by the fall of Republican Spain, Hitler’s army invaded Poland on September 1st 1939.  Two days later France and England declared war on Germany and the Second World War had begun.

The question remains, If bells had tolled even more  loudly and clearly for the progressive leaders and citizens of Europe during the 1930s, would Hitler not have been appeased, could the rise of fascism been halted in republican Spain and could World War II have been averted?  Most important, in what ways are these questions relevant to what is unfolding in America and the rest of the world today?

“For Whom The Bell Tolls,” Part II is subtitled “What Is To Be Done,?” and will be posted shortly.  It will take a closer look at some of the parallels between 1930s Europe and the world today and offer some suggestions about  the actions that we as citizens may take to avert the kind of human catastrophe that occurred just seventy five years ago.