#Of people making me be their cookie cutter outlet of a

[astrxlfinale]

17 with fanon because I know the tea is going to be 15/10 ☕

And a good morning to you there agent of chaos! I see you're immediately going for the fun pitchfork topic.

Aight! Let's break it down then. Exactly how do I angle myself with fanon?

I think my best approach (as it has a lot of on blog examples of my feelings) is how horribly misrepresented the genuine canon material is within fandom space (which often echoes obnoxiously). The classic of moniker 'if its in my hands its my world', in my opinion, just serving as an excuse for being callous. Now I'm not going to say anything about the creators of these trends, for that's just a starting spark, it's when the evolution of this trend falls into the hands of actual fan space itself that the story switches up.

Where the headcanon is taken as gospel that has to be abided by, you can only be recognized when you respect that, that right here, I believe will always serve as my core as to why I can never fully stand it. Since to be frank, in the name of the many more emotionally charged avenues 'such as XYZ character being a person's comfort character', this is where we're tearing far from the medium of storytelling/creation and having this be a confirmation or preening act to the emotions of these said fans. The lack of respectful boundary, and in fact, this is the form of behavior that gets aggressive is where it goes to high hell.

It's taken as an attack on the 'feel good' element experienced, which can range from new works, to constant confirmation by seeing folks mindfully/mindlessly come to agree.

So what ideas are people supposed to have on the authentic content as an outsider coming in? As someone who find themselves getting increasingly well versed in the contents of a series? In my mind it just becomes a road to high hell.

The series/mediums these characters come from can speak for themselves. I believe a lot more attention should be fashioned on that facet.

....

Now if you want me to just get plain old salty on this. LMAO. As it stands for being one of the most emotionally charged aspects for a series fanbase, shipping has singlehandedly been a PLAGUE and I can not be moved on that. As much as I adore it myself, the scale of agendas, outright attacks, harassment to actual workers of their favorites (such as VAs), and the wealth of these experiences have been a festering mark.

It's mainly how it's personal, respect is some unknown factor, and ultimately people are very willing to become some online terror to others nonsensically in the name of this act. I'm tooooooo old (I say as a 31 yr old) and tired to even remotely amuse this. Let people work to their rhythm, respect that, and find better outlets for the pettier emotions that can stem from this.

@furiaei

[thunderstormstearstainedfaces]

Had a flashback in the shower of all places. 😣

It came out of nowhere, no trigger, nothing…it was a memory of one of the first times an argument crossed the line, and I was so shocked, angry and powerless.

I’ve carried with me the need to block out bad things…distract, cover up, keep busy, listen to music and push it down. But eventually it bubbles up and I have to deal with it. Sometimes writing it down helps. Sometimes crying helps. Sometimes, nothing helps. Sometimes sharing pieces of my story helps. It’s weird but I don’t talk about it to many people. I have a blanket statement I use, but I can count on my hand the number of people I’ve told bits of my story to. It’s the craziest/scariest thing in the world to tell someone what happened. So worried that they’ll view me differently. Think, “why didn’t she leave sooner?”

I know that utilizing different outlets is what ‘works’ for me. There is no cookie cutter cure. And trauma doesn’t just go away. I can go months without thinking about it. And then it’s in my head, walking with me every waking moment. Just under the surface. I wish there was a cure for that, a pill I could take to get rid of the memories. Make them just disappear.

[hanzi83]

A Better Draft

I know it always seems like when I initially put out my thoughts, and again my thoughts are just my opinions and some of them are my theories, it can be a gamble because sometimes I need an outlet to vent on where I am not stuttering but my thoughts written down can be the equivalent to stuttering with how scattered I am with my thoughts, so even though the Jordan Neely situation was on my mind, I have had a couple of days to sit on it and process the thoughts and seeing what discourse has transpired has made me really realize shit, I guess you can say the last blog was essentially a rough draft, and I guess this is supposed to be the better version of that, but even that is a gamble because in the middle of it my mind will freeze and I will time travel mentally and envision having different conversations with people in the past for some reason, and then I just start throwing shit at the wall to finish this, I know it is self indulgent to put out these disclaimers before I attempt to write, but I am trying to structure it and manifest a coherent blog. It doesn’t matter, because whatever factions are reading this, it will result in nonstop vitriolic comments within group chats. It is like the spirit of my haters clouds my head and I think they monitor the shit I write as I write it and sometimes I get so angry, I feel like punishing them for monitoring me since they have hinted to instill paranoia into a mentally ill person for the last 10 or so years, so I know even if you are in the system and have this fancy aesthetic and this visual of a normal family life, you have severe mental illness because this world and system is so fucked up and exploitative and heartless, that most people develop mental illness, now some can be cogs in the system who are designed to have issues for the remainder of their existence, especially if there is social media currency and money on the line, or you join the system’s elitist mindset and use your mental illness to weaponize a cult against people and just repeat propaganda to do PR for you all day on the internet. Some people need a team to counter the system having their team to shit on you if you go against the institution and industry etc. Now it can also be a marketing tool. So these distractions bother me when I am writing because there is a part of me that likes writing down my thoughts and sometimes I like to show how I write thinking out loud so if people need to vent their feelings and irrational thoughts, you can follow my lead so you are letting out your irrational feelings so it doesn’t build up and accumulate into something ugly and I have my moments where it is really bad mentally for me, and everything from my past accumulates and when I see other people’s lives and reputations being demonized on a larger scale, and seeing how my trolls would do the same shit on a smaller scale, it shows me how formulaic the entire game is for this new right wing ideology. You know the new right wing ideology where people deny they are a right winger so their bigoted views have some merit, because if someone identifies as a fucking libertarian or someone who says they are anti war, apparently I am not allowed to point that that people are gimmicking their political ideology so they can justify expanding far right wing shit and it is seeping into progressive circles as well. So when I see bigger platforms and their cults normalize and sophisticate their talking points to make people more heartless and cold toward homeless people and mentally ill people, it kind of in a way gaslights my emotions. I know a bunch of edge lords are gonna make the most cookie cutter insult because I said gaslight, because it is used, but in a way powerful mentally ill shit heads will not get help for their self hatred and repressed sexual feelings or the abuse the system gave them, so they take their personal experiences and weaponize general communities for their cults to be permitted to act like complete shit heads. So if you want people to stop using the word gaslight, maybe stop fucking doing it and maybe people won’t beat this word into the fucking ground, like these assholes do that on a mass level, and then gaslight even more for being mad about being gaslit. Anyways I think this was a decent enough intro, if not, who gives a shit at this point. I am not supposed to be anyone you take seriously. Tread carefully because you are reading the thoughts of a mentally ill man living in his parents basement who thinks he has been conspired against but I feel my “trauma” is not convenient to exploit even further just yet. 

So I look at this Jordan Neely situation in another angle than just the simple weaponization and propaganda to weaponize someone who was clearly unwell in life and even if you are a good faith actor trying to explain root causes to the people who have no interest in actually having a genuine debate, it is not gonna work. I have seen talk radio with alt media for decades act a certain way. If something like the Stern Show wants to perpetuate a narrative to their audience, even if someone comes to counter them, they are not gonna win because the house always win. He has Robin, who will just keep interrupting. He will have Gary to interrupt the conversation to talk about rumors he heard about you, you have Fred who will play sound effects, and the parade of callers that he probably organized to say horrible things. They throw you off your game and then other talk media did that to carry on that tradition, so I get that a newer generation who didn’t grow up with the talk radio in the 90’s and early 2000’s, the alt media shock jocks might be this new refreshing thing but in reality it is a reboot of better shows doing it in a more organic fashion than they could ever wish. I look at Tim Pool’s show and to other people who are used to that kind of humor or talk etc, it becomes shocking and you feel you gotta state your facts, but the chances are you won’t win with that audience, and it becomes different cliques justifying why their side won. I will say Lance from the Serfs handled himself well and did not snap and tried his best to state the facts but it proved to be pointless because that audience doesn’t intend on being swayed. They just want a debate because they have it all rigged, they are hacky sports entertainment heels, that have the crew to interfere, they might even have the referee at their disposal, they just want to declare pretentious victory and their cult will then shit on you if you don’t accept a debate because you are “afraid” so people feel they need to go on. But those people don’t want to be swayed, maybe some regular people who listen, but most of the vultures in those chats are people who are funded to just be cheerleaders for their guy. We should be talking about solutions to what should be done to help mentally ill people, and people who are unhoused etc, but these tragic situations then turn into a way for pretentious sports entertainers to get their Howard Stern shtick over. To get at these sports entertainers, you have to have someone who partook in it before and is willing to get conspiratorial to throw them off their game because you are not gonna win the argument by stating the stats you have. And if this is how they act and deflect over real solutions to what should be done to help people, that shows me they are cold hearted pricks who are more concerned with getting their podcast in the algorithm so it is talked about in the discourse. We have to talk about Tim Pool and his shitty beanie rather than talk about what is really happening. None of this sports entertainment is gonna fucking solve shit, it just wastes more fucking time. Only people who think that, want to do it for branding and it is clear they put their content first especially if they have to be shocking and tasteless. It is clear whenever I talk about this kind of shit, and analyze how the new right operates it gets people nervous, because they opened the sub reddit of the people who want to constantly harass me, basically showing they are there and they can be used because they have tried to trigger me and get me to snap when I have been in situations where exploitation and trauma has gotten into me and I have not reacted in kind ways but the one thing about me is that, I know I am an irrational dumbed down shit head, but I at least try to self reflect and I want to be a human and go over my behavior so I can catch patterns I feel roam in my head, and then I try to put it into a podcast or a blog so maybe people who have the same mental illness can feel confident in trying to get to the bottom of their illness because a system that keeps creating situations and conditions for someone to be at their worst will never go away and you have to find a way to at least cope. I have to have coping mechanism conspiracies so it doesn’t tear me apart that more people are dying over and over. I have to at times immune myself from breaking down at how fucking horrible this world is, and how people will always be fucked up. Sure I have to accept reality and fucking let out a fucking cry time to time. But the angle I am coming from is that if I believe the internet and underground stuff in the culture has always been practice for what ends up becoming mainstream, and I look at how we have manifested our entertainment into becoming a reality, when you see someone like Nathan Fielder doing a show where it is basically a flash mob rehearsing etc then I can assume those methods have been done in other ways. Like when I see the overall treatment of vulnerable people and mentally ill people in society, I look at shit like “Bum fights” from back in the day and I believe people who are rich funded that, so why can’t I assume the system and billionaires who want to create chaos, give incentive for mentally ill people at their disposal and have been targeted to go more crazy because once you go viral for being mentally ill, I believe the system targets you for life and ensures they can use you for a sacrifice to get over another narrative for evil purposes. You will scoff and be angered at my conspiratorial thinking, but you would rather think someone like Nancy Pelosi thanking George Floyd for his sacrifice is some out of touch America’s dumbest criminal comment from a neoliberal, but in a way they are telling the truth because I believe under the table, beneath the surface, different factions are feuding and the testing ground for first manifestation in this era was this pandemic from the BLM protests to the Insurrection etc, but when I saw that Jordan Neely was the same guy from the Joey Boots video a decade ago, it made sense why someone like him mentally declined. Not that there aren’t people who are homeless that mentally decline, but when it comes to the last decade of creating viral moments for people to enjoy their Jerry Springer and Howard Stern like society moments we think are 100 percent real or there was nothing orchestrated, it makes sense that if you look at the target that gets put on mentally ill people who show their hand of not being able to compose, the system who wants to make shit worse have their next guy they can put into mental decline so that eventually he/she is used for future events. I know I am the party pooper who ties this shit in our heads and our mental illness to this entertainment, but if you sat back and really thought about this world, maybe you would see we are destined to lose our minds, but the real mental illness are the fucking elitist shit heads who fund this chaos so you can train other social climbers to devalue and dehumanize other fucking people and this will constantly happen. There is only so much trauma porn we can fucking take, and the ones who get hard off this tragic shit happening will then sophisticate their bigoted and funded talking points as a simple opinion while people angry at the system are painted as the ones who can’t control their emotions and it always has to be someone who has criminal records so they can weaponize it even more that the “left” embraces criminals. I don’t condone  the shit that Jordan Neely did that was bad, but you know who really condone it as much as you shit heads want to say the left  condones it, the system condones it because they needed investment in having this mentally ill performer to be out there instead of putting in effort to helping him and others like him to rehabilitate. Even progressives, will do a “both sides” to this bullshit where they pretend they are worried about regular citizens who are scared about the crime etc, and I don’t blame them, it would be nice if people would expose why this is being amplified at a whole other fucking level lately. The people who run shit want this stuff to go the way it does. Which brings me to Joey Boots, who has gotten some interest in his image because he is being used to prop up right wing talking points. The right finally cares about a gay person who was attacked by Jordan Neely, it just happens to be a racist Stern flunkie who was a mentally ill puppet mentally abused by the Stern institution that he emrbaced becoming a shit disturber who went around and harassed people, some of it is innocent but any chance he could take sensationalist shit from minorities, he would not hesitate to fucking have that image get boosted up. Someone like him never operated alone. I know Stern fans who will secretly read this, will be mad I am talking about someone who died in 2016 but even before he died, I told him he was a piece of shit who was a fucking puppet. He used his “gay’ status to justify why he could be bigoted towards others. But since he is being used as a symbol of right wing gayness from people who always weaponize shit against the LGTBQ community and downplays the horrible and dangerous rhetoric, it shows you know that this shit exists if you can recognize it to defend a shitty Stern Show hanger on who contributed to a lot of problematic shit. 

Like here is where people will really get upset because it is conspiratorial and the reason why they don’t want to admit entertainment is nothing important but if I believe people have advanced knowledge and know which direction to stir the audience and control the narrative, people would not believe that entertainment institutions and public figures with big following could ever be government puppets trying to paint a narrative. People can only accept the way 9/11 was fishy is that the Saudis solely were the ones involved but it is out of line to assume maybe others were in on the knowledge and were given their roles. Howard Stern was a prime example on that day and I know people who are just regular powerless people who didn’t know any better probably reacted vitriolic because they didn’t know what was going on and people were scared and they needed someone to get angry so people think Howard Stern reflected what people were thinking but what if I said I think Howard knew what he was doing, and it is more clear when someone from the military, who always end up having connections with showbiz, and get into these influential political rants, someone like Joey Boots playing the “eye witness” to spread a more anti Muslim stance was not an accident. Again this is my fucking theory and I am not saying I am right, but every day we find out how much corruption is going on, if someone like Pras Michel was a government agent or whatever, you don’t think bigger celebs aren’t into that world, every day we find out about more people in power doing horrible fucking shit, but you want to present it in the most boring way possible, because we are gonna fucking focus on bribes from different politicians and others who oppose whoever is saying that will point out the corruption of the other party. If I see so much scumbag shit being put out there and being repeated and being rebooted, then yeah I am allowed to assume there is more to what this entertainment world is, especially with how defensive everyone gets if you go at their favorite entertainer or public figure. So I used to be dumbed down and I thought when Stern went more at Bush in 2004 etc, that maybe he was actually becoming a better person etc, and I overlooked other normalized problematic shit that I didn’t catch at first due to being dumbed down. I always wanted to leave early on and because I didn’t go along with “selling my soul” and I think in my personal opinion, they tried to get my parents to kick me out of the house because then I would have no choice but to need to get paid and come to them, they wanted me to be like the wack packer Bigfoot, who was another mentally ill homeless person essentially and when he would live in places, there would be squatters that would just invade his space, and trust me if you are on the Stern Show and you are one of their characters, they don’t let anyone fuck with you unless they want that to fucking happen. They couldn’t succeed in driving me crazy that way, so they had nonstop people online constantly trigger me and say the worst shit, where I had to embrace a darker mentally ill side to fend these people off and say horrible shit, but in a box, you see horrible shit I have said to people out of being irrational and wanting to be dead, they will highlight my shit and spread rumors and ruin my reputation, any person I would become friendly with they would poison them with trying to get me to lose my fucking mind. And because Howard did that to me and threw me out like nothing, other shows that were being aligned with that pipeline tried to recreate their own Stern Show, and if I didn’t want contribute to it because I didn’t like the direction, they would try to fuck with me and take advantage of my erratic behavior from the accumulation of the nonstop disrespect and shit I had to deal with, so they could play the “See Hanzi is the problem, it happened on Stern” These people are not as talented as Stern even if they are sociopaths who don’t have a fucking conscience to their fucking name. Now if I dealt with this on some level, imagine how much these exploited mentally ill people who become viral get treated, they aren’t going viral because it will make them famous, it puts a target on their back, and if you don’t have the right people by your side to help you out, then you can decline more and more. Is the entertainment we consume really this worth it? I am not coming off as some preachy asshole, I am part of the problem. I can’t quit watching wrestling and I kind of want to at times because all that mental illness initiations flourishes over there as well but I don’t think people are ready for the conversation in that fucking way. 

Now this is just my opinion and these are my feelings. Again before you try to paint these mentally ill thoughts as a justification to say that I might be a danger. Remember I have no intention of being violent, I don’t have any weapons. I am probably monitored so these fed like people would know what I am up to. They stopped copping to it as much once I started a thread on social media to keep track of the instilling of paranoia and threats they have made, since they would take advantage of doing it in the past and not keeping track, so I would say horrible shit back, and then they would report my accounts and get them suspended. But when I see this shit continue to happen, and then the aftermath is just shitty sports entertainment heels rebooting 90’s edge lord level shit, and that becomes the discourse that dominates, it is like there is no line that won’t be crossed when we are using the murder of someone to make into a complete circus and justifying why they needed to die rather than looking at how to prevent people from going into that dark place where they are fucking screaming they are hungry and unwell and where you have arrested them so many times, where you have entrenched that person’s behavior into a convict mentality. I feel like people given missions and assignments to get whatever crypto or whatever currency being given out to go out and do this kind of shit and then they get used to being sacrificial lambs so the real mentally ill elitists get America’s dumbest criminal image so you can make fun of them in the easiest and most limited way. You will keep asking what can be done with these homeless people and these street criminals but you are all waiting to socially climb into a system with the real sociopaths and cult leaders. They are the ones who I feel are causing this as this world implodes and we move into a new civil fucking war. We have countless amounts of Trump storylines that no one can keep up with, they expose more, his side paints it as they are coming for him and everyone, all the while we know he is not gonna suffer any real consequences, more shootings take place, the sports entertainers in the system then find a way to extract a culture war out of it to sensationalize so then Bill Maher can pretend to be outraged by it because he got into the shock jock game too late, and now he is trying his best to double down on it. I know this doesn’t catch traction often, and people who do read this will scoff and be disgusted in how my mentally ill brain goes into conspiracies, you want so badly for it to lean more to the right, but if I think the conspiracies have been twisted to direct you into a more fundamentalist path, wouldn’t there still be a conspiracy. Like when Kari Lake comes out and says that Covid was planned and it was done so to get Trump out of the way, people will agree with one part and because they are the only ones doing conspiracies, they would be willing to believe they actually want Trump out of the way. That is why some of these outlets and celebs who hate him supposedly, will keep his name out there. If they wanted Trump out of the way, he would’ve never been allowed to catch traction. They used the internet as a way to think that is where the genuine opinions are because MSM is bad, I know it is shit, but we have to pretend the internet is not part of the media, and pretend that there is no way to manipulate online perception. Conspiracies are planted all over and by design, whether to propagandize your view or whether they are warning you about what will be proven true at some point. But I could argue that I do believe Covid was created because they knew where the world is going and anything that was government overreach and the general disdain elite liberals had for the unvaccinated in a general way, helped alt media figures and people online to think they are going against the system’s narrative even if the “liberal” side is not being completely honest or consistent. Because when this shit came out and people had no idea what to believe and what to fucking trust, people did get censored for speaking out on the origin and that was designed so then the funded alt media people could talk about how they are censored, so then you feel it is relatable. This covid shit has actually helped the right wing overall more so than the “left” because the system is a right wing trajectory system, and everything is gonna fall flat on its face, so of course you will have Biden continue to making errors with this Border shit, or him not addressing the Scotus unethical practices, whatever else they are gonna blame on him. People think their obvious moves are not designed to get people to view them in a shitty light, like not doing debates for the candidates for the next election. They know it makes them look scared, it is kind of like we are supposed to think that but we think we are figuring this shit out on our own. Anything from the establishment media is not trusted, especially when a lot of people now consume their news online and a lot of it is dunking on the MSM as their main personality trait despite doing their own establishment like show. So this Covid/Protests shit has helped society become a bit more right wing while they make it seem like the establishment are woke because they had a LGBTQ flag on the FBI building, so since we think the internet is underground, we think the establishment is cosigning it and when the establishment cosigns something, then you have to think it is completely invalid. Yet you will have people online who are buying into billionaire funded shit online. But it has made people cross over and throw on their NWO shirt. At first they had a Wolf Pack shirt but then they did a reveal, but little do they know their trajectory is leading NWO Silver and Black edition faction. But I think there are just layers to how this goes. I will leave it with the Putin assassination attempt. Now if I am apolitical and don’t follow it too tightly, especially these obscure names, but if I had   this history of what the US has done entrenched in my head, then of course anyone would think that the US lying about potential actions, and since the game is all inconsistent and they constantly present a country vs country aesthetic, people think they are smart enough not to fall for the false flags in this era because of what the 9/11 did to manufacture consent for legal wars and they have people think because that tactic was being done back then, the the same entities that align with far right wing leaders in other countries’ leaders could be giving advice and helping funding what the foreign leaders are doing, because if I condemn Putin, I will have to do it in any patriotic way and ignore what the US has caused over its tenured history and what they continue to do so people who think they are hip to the mainstream establishment, they know that they are being suckered into supporting a war, but we never talk about how dangerous people who are in the US have connections to other leaders, who have far right wing aspirations, and it is not supposed to be talked about, only if you do it in the most cookie cutter way. So I do feel like this is possible that while making it look like supporting Ukraine on a moral level is the propaganda, how do I know that in a time where people are more than aware of the US’s corruption, that us knowing about the obvious tricks of the trade of the past is still relevant today and not completely changed up. It is easy when you can reboot old rivalries with the aesthetic to make more of a divide. Like if they told you dangerous elements of each government are aligned and when you describe it just solely on country vs country it will limit narratives and either way people supported a propagated narrative even if they come off like they are genuine, but I have realized, even the propped up accounts online are just as much liars as the MSM they claim to hate despite them becoming like them eventually.  Bolsonaro got his shit seized, now am I allowed to be happy about it a bit or am I am gonna be accused of being happy for whoever is investigating him? Like people who somehow want Obama or Hilary to be arrested for their crimes never get called people who are pro FBI and Law enforcement, again limiting the narrative because if I think the law enforcement and FBI etc did horrible shit and despise them for it, now I am supposed to care about everyone who has been fucked over by the feds like a Trump when it is more about theatrics to help change the narrative that the “left are for law enforcement” because some neoliberal types will present it in a fucking shitty way where they are coming at it with bad faith. 

The basic shit about this blog before I get carried away other scattered thoughts is to really try to put out there how people thinking online is underground and that narrative on there is dominated by far right wing funding that people think having the internet opinion is the most genuine opinion you can have because the mainstream will be completely shitty with it, which is why they are able to sway people to the right eventually because there will always be something the establishment will present in the most sensationalized way to help the internet be able to then look like they are the ones telling the truth because eventually their talking points will be presented in MSM, and that is when suddenly a bunch of people who are holding MSM accountable will stop holding them accountable because they finally said something that alt media types were saying on the internet. I have seen some of the most pretentious people who gained cultic following online for catering to whatever community they cater to and chastise phonies from that community who were trying to make a living from it, which means them calling it out means they are genuine, but their call outs only resulted in them being allowed to now make a living on the conservative side, like any representation in the system is gonna be limited, and it is gonna be obvious, so it is like they know it will be obvious but the clout and money being made could be going to shit to help out behind the scenes, but since it is more left leaning with limitations, others call it out because it is easy to call out establishment phonies, because their job is to be a phony on the surface, but those calling them out also then become phonies by limiting other shit and suddenly they will make excuses for why it is inconvenient to protest a fucking cause, it would be one thing if that was their opinion that was genuine, but since people like that are funded to create chaos online and ruin people’s mental health at the behest of billionaires, it becomes more disturbing and they can’t handle that even if they are gonna make it and have their cult boast about their hard work etc, they know deep down they won’t ever be seen as genuine, so they prevent any real change to happen because they got what they needed. That is what a lot of people do, and I didn’t want to be someone who wanted change for the better and then when I get my gig then I have to limit others. Sure I could do it, but I know deep down I would not be happy with what I was contributing. Sure I would have a cult behind me to praise me and shield my reputation, but if it is not genuine shit then what does it really fucking matter, especially if it is for the purpose of making society and people more regressive because there is a nack for recreating the most ignorant time in the 90’s. Here is the thing about the early 2000’s and 90’s and how it went so far to the right at that time in disguised ways like they disguise now. Back in the 2000’s and late 90’s a lot normalized racism, homophobia, transphobia, misogyny etc was subtly allowed even if society called out a couple of over the top examples that we deem horrible while we thought we were better despite displaying ignorance in some fucking way and all people had to do is deny they were the negative thing by giving you examples of them being good etc, now the right has expanded so much like it did 20 years ago, it has people claiming to be classical liberal and libertarian who somehow always support some right wing shit, so while they claim to be calling out transparent forms of racism etc, they will still help with normalizing that same shit in a more subtle way. Now 20 years ago that edge lord era brought along the revenge of the nerds and outcasts era where shit at least tried to counter some of the normalized right wing shit, you recreated a late 90’s and early 2000’s model in current form, how do you think that will turn out the next time people have enough of being oppressed and really push back? And the more that people take advantage of justifying horrible tragedies and public executions, people are trying to reason with you for some reason to make you see you are partaking in dangerous propaganda, and you will keep deflecting because you are not interested in the solutions, you think people who are being oppressed are gonna forget this time and who said what because as much as you’re living it up and getting bigger audiences, one day you will be alone with your thoughts and you will be irrelevant because they system will always try to find someone else who is willing to get it done, and a lot of you are not ready to handle that, you can barely handle having more power in the discourse with how quick you will use your own cult to attack others or transform into a complete elitist. I am supposed to believe Tucker Carlson is a genuine person because he had an epiphany of not wanting to be hateful towards other people he is supposed to be opposed to and he had a human moment even though he still snuck in racist shit in there, and listen if someone who is genuinely powerless in this world and has been brainwashed by the far right wing propaganda and they genuinely broke out of it and realized the thoughts they were thinking were dangerous, I could appreciate that because it is hard not to be brainwashed in this world if you are powerless, but Tucker is not that, even if I think he said one decent thing etc, his track record of purposefully manufacturing consent with normalizing more hatred to people in marginalized communities, and trying to convince people he is this anti war person despite normalizing pro war shit against people he didn’t like, that shit speaks for itself and shows me he doesn’t really feel bad and these texts and leaks have become their own fucking shows now, people think because it is online and it was not in the context of an official program that somehow these things are not designed to make you see off air that Tucker seems like a decent guy but he just says shit he doesn’t believe. The online shit is now the kayfabed shit and it is amazing people will follow along with it. The MSM will say some stupid generalized shit, and then people online who think their opinion is genuine will push back, like with this Texas Shooter being someone who consumed white supremacist propaganda and that is the only thing the MSM will say that makes this person a white supremacist, and since it comes off like they are trying to find an angle, the people online who are funded then push back with other crimes being done by minorities that won’t get coverage, and if you are someone who does that, like some right winger on the conspiracy sub reddit tried to use a black person killing white people as a hate crime that isn’t getting covered in MSM, don’t use a MSM outlet to promote your point, the guy used NYPost article about the story that he said MSM was not covering. But because the social media discourse focuses on specific shootings etc, to me those ones feel funded and orchestrated to happen, my take is the overall system of white supremacy can fund that shit, but we look at it in a very vague description in a specific situation. We don’t ask bigger questions, like the guy who was shooting his guns and the neighbors called the police, where the operators hung up on the victims multiple times and the police didn’t get there until too late etc, the person who did the shooting was a felon, and the right wing automatically go setting up like these people were illegal so basically it doesn’t matter and these shooters are able to get away fine despite having issues with the law in the past, none of us seem to think maybe these mentally ill patsies are used by these people with power to eliminate people they don’t like or use it as a way to create chaos, and people on the left will keep screaming about the guns being the issue, which it is but when people who oppose that view think you want to take away their guns, they are not gonna believe you. It is like every side that is gimmicked on some level gets something out of the discourse, knowing there won’t be solutions to make it better so you settle for on surface position. People on the left could have good intentions but they are definitely limited. Like even when people on the left celebrate Ashli Babbitt’s death, I get she was specifically on the far right wing side, and she was not a good person but she was someone brainwashed by bigger white supremacists etc and I feel like when people on the left celebrate that shit, then it is used against them when they are alarmed by someone being choked out in a subway. In both instances it is white supremacist system enabling the patsies and mentally ill people into these situations. See Ashli Babbitt was mentally ill following for far right wing propaganda that she committed a crime, I don’t agree with her nor do I respect her world view, but I can recognize that she is just a fucking cog in a system that is enabling this behavior. Even these mentally ill people on the right who are given incentive to do or say some racist shit so they can get knocked out, people will automatically just side with someone who punched out someone saying racist shit, because slurs are triggering to people who have dealt with it their entire lives, but then when people cheer that on, the right wing side will then use that against them when they are defending someone who they are gonna define by his criminal actions to make it seem like the left loves to cheer on criminals. They win the narratives and sometimes I think some of the sports entertainment accounts who do that and it then helps the right wing then vilify the general community in the left. But even with someone like Ashli Babbitt I can look at someone who was clearly troubled and mentally ill who fell for propaganda, I might be mad that she was on that side of the fence but I recognize she is a cog, enabled by people at a higher level. In current form we are falling for more propaganda and not asking the bigger questions or actually critically thinking for ourselves, we allow “other critical thinkers” to do the critical thinking so we then regurgitate it. 

Anyways, these are just my opinions and I know some of the shit I cannot prove but I needed to vent out and I wanted to flesh this blog out a little more because the last one I was filled with emotion of not knowing how to express shit because when I have that anger building up in me, then accumulated past situations from personal experience and horrible shit in the world seeps into my psyche, because I see patterns of how they normalized this kind of shit in different eras and how it is orchestrated on another level in the current form, there are people who never experienced the 90’s etc so now all this provocative entertainment online which is seen as real, doesn’t clue into people they are falling for the same shit my generation fell for with Jerry Springer and Howard Stern Show and WWE and we pat ourselves on the back about how the actual programs now have more diversity etc in it but the reality show world we live in is still answering to those 90’s and early 2000’s regressive tropes. Again I don’t know if that is true but that is how I perceive it if I look at shit in the grand view which results in other people in the system to be pissed off because they are the ones who get social clout for being a truth teller but if people stumble onto something I am saying, it kind of exposes people for being limited in their “truth” and people are allowed to take in whatever they want, but don’t get mad at me for putting out a perspective, maybe it is because I never wanted to think most of my life and went along with whatever I was consuming, and being this dumbed down for so long has helped me articulate the process of when someone is dumbed down and what their thinking is like because all these smart people that exist out there on social media land, they still haven’t found a way to explain the dumbed down narrative and it reeks of them just wanting to partake in a pretentious culture war. People will be for that shit anyways, but people get angry that I put out something that can provoke some real thought and actually want us to analyze this shit a bit better but people don’t want to get conspiratorial while letting right wing conspiratorial people look like they have been right the whole time because being conspiratorial has now been shifted into a right wing thing because when more conspiracies come out to be true, it helps push people to the right wing side. If you are willing to state you are not on the far right wing side and you have some conspiratorial thinking, maybe it would help apolitical people see your view more but because there are people who shit on any conspiracy, people who feel the world is corrupt and it is all lies will side with people who are willing to pretend they are conspiratorial while luring people into a more fundamentalist and far right wing mindset. This sentence right here pissed off the trolls, they moved my cursor up a few lines, that reeks of them having to monitor my shit and me writing this out without them being able to say something mean to me right away kills them a little, so they get so angry, they think they can instill paranoia in me by moving the cursor so it scares me to write down shit in private even, but it actually fuels me more because you are giving away your game, the luxury of being in a position to spy on me doesn’t have the same pizazz when I know people are monitoring me because they can justify it by claiming I could be a radical person, despite not doing any violence or having any weapons, you are already angry that I didn’t manifest into what my trolls wanted me to by constantly lying and stating I beat up my parents and beat up a gay couple at a Wild Wings. So now me writing this and not breaking down completely really triggers people who have all the resources in the world but they are stuck having to monitor me like it is an own, but now that I know you are, I can say shit with words and you can’t handle it, was moving my cursor a warning not to publish this? I realize I am a target and I wish other people who were targets in this world by design were able to have the help they need where they could get better and counter the propagandists but the system doesn’t want that seemingly, they want more chaos and they will make sure certain people are in mental decline for the remainder of their lives until they get the results they want. Anyways I am gonna publish this blog now, the trolls better figure out a way to send me more spam email or instill more paranoia in that systemically hanzi83 sub reddit, they only open that up to do small time stuff, I suspect when they close it down for a bit, that is where they specify what they are monitoring and putting out future plans for whatever. If they tried to get me radicalized in the past and push me to suicide, that shit is for life and I always have my guard up and I clearly don’t have anyone to back me up on the surface, so I have to fend for myself as much as possible when it comes to vultures. These billionaires hate my fucking guts but they pay attention to me and then different cog will get upset that important people are paying attention to me so they gotta double down to get their clout back on the surface, but this is what any attention away from them will do. I don’t get it, you are still boasted about and boosted up. But either way it will result with jealous cogs then aligning with trolls to then gaslight me even more in their subtle ways. And these are the people I am supposed to aspire to be, mentally ill people who have resources and a cult to protect their image while they demonize someone who is mentally ill who clearly is not designed to get better because the system doesn’t want them to get better because they are needed to be the sacrifices to sensationalize a narrative. Anyways, good day. And it is still RIP Jordan Neely.

[failedintsave]

MTLOC week Day 2: best friends

Even when she feels like little more than a footnote, Abigail is reminded that there are people at Mordhaus who care about her.

When You're Not Strong

"Nine more, Abby, c'mon you've got this! Eight, yes girl, let's go!"

Sweat dripped down her neck and over her chest as Abigail drew her elbows back again, a bead sliding over the contour of her breast and along the discolored seam of scar tissue mostly obscured by her sport bra. Her arms trembled, and even her legs felt wobbly as she tugged another rep against the resistance band. It was far cry from her previous personal best, and it had taken months to even get to this point.

"Don't quit on me now!" Vanessa squatted a few steps ahead of her, but Abigail refused to make eye contact, gritting her teeth and flexing her shoulders. The silvery bun piled atop Vanessa's head bobbed as she nodded approval. "Seven!"

Months of gentle exercise, of walking slowly and stretching and leaning on rails and canes when all she really wanted to do was explode and let go of the smoldering anger she'd been using to survive for so long now. Fury she'd been too weak to unleash against her captors and too relieved to turn on Toki's bandmates when they finally deigned to retrieve those they'd left to rot.

"Six. Six left."

Abigail was tired of being forced to move slowly. She was ready to just get on with her life.

Seated on the floor with the trainer's dog curled in his lap, Toki joined the cheering section. "You gots dis Abigails!"

Toki was the only reason she'd spent her recovery at Mordhaus rather than far away at a civilian hospital like any sane person would have done. He'd needed her, during their internment and after, and she couldn't abandon him. She'd grown too fond of him, and he'd dealt with enough of that as it stood. But where Toki found comfort in reconciling with his friends, Abigail alienated herself from the band, the only foolproof way to keep her aggression from burning blue and immolating the men who'd allowed her to become a victim of their in-fighting.

"Down to five!"

Aggression that desperately needed an outlet.

"Last four, baby, you're almost there."

Vanessa may as well have waved a red cape in front of her. Abigail felt the strain in her arms and back leaching into her core, a burn beyond muscle fatigue igniting the nerves once damaged by a steel blade. Physically, her injuries had healed, but there was something tender and frayed left behind, wound up tighter than the rubber bands clutched in her fists.

"Thr—"

"I know how to fucking count!" Finally she lifted her gaze from the floor mat, skewering the other woman with a glare. "I am so sick of being treated like I can't do things!"

Vanessa's almond eyes widened, her brows shooting towards her hairline. Ripping through her final reps at double speed, Abigail drew the bands like a bowstring and released. The ends slapped the floor between Vanessa's rose gold Reeboks, then curled useless into a flimsy ribbon.

As rapidly as the adrenaline rush came, it drained away even faster, taking with it the last of Abigail's pitiful well of stamina and leaving behind only a smattering of black spots across her vision. She heard someone—Toki, maybe—shout her name as she stumbled. Then arms were around her, holding her up under the armpits.

That's gotta be so sweaty, she thought dazedly, breathing through the worst of the head rush. Despite how soaked through her clothes had become, the arms only clutched her tighter.

"I knew you could do it." Ness whispered, her support turning into a fierce embrace. "You're so strong. I never had any doubt."

Those weren't just cookie-cutter words of encouragement from her trainer; Vanessa's voice trembled with more than pride. Behind her, the usual assemblage of workout equipment was organized neatly—jump ropes looped over hanging pegs and rubber-coated hand weights piled in wire crates, a pair of foam rollers leaning against the wall in the corner by a well-used punching bag.

Something Toki had mentioned a while ago came to mind, about his bandmates describing the rigorous training they'd undergone before being able to attempt a rescue. She'd dismissed the comment at the time, it sounded like another empty excuse given to save face. But that meant disregarding anyone else who may have been working behind the scenes to bring them home…the trackers, the intelligence team. The person who would have overseen Dethklok's strength and agility drills, whipping their stubborn asses into fighting shape.

Abigail's molten core cooled to a warm glow, her heavy arms looping behind Vanessa's back. She let her chin drop to her friend's shoulder as stinging tears welled to turn her vision into a watercolor painting.

"I'm sorry for yelling." She choked out before a quiet sob wriggled free of her grasp. Vanessa chuckled and rubbed soothing circles across her back.

"Oh please. Nathan got more upset than that when my fantasy league beat him last weekend."

That earned a giggle. "I love you, Ness."

"Love you too."

Having given them their moment, Abigail sensed Toki standing awkwardly at her side. She peeked up at him with a watery smile.

"Abby, ams you okei?" Toast circled his feet, whining for more belly rubs. Abigail nodded.

"Yeah, Abby are you okay?" Pulling back to catch her eye, Vanessa fought and lost the battle to keep a straight face. She always did. "Are you okay, Abby?"

"Oh my god, shut up." Abigail couldn't help her laughter. "Am I allowed to fire you? Toki, fire her for me."

"Umm.."

"If I go, the dog goes."

"I t'inks we ams stuck wif her, Abigails. Can'ts put Toast out on de streets." Toki grinned as Ness slung an arm around his neck, the other still curled behind Abigail.

She'd spent months holding onto handrails and crutches, moving gently while her body repaired itself. Now she would lean again as her heart healed, on friends who she trusted would move at her pace. No matter how slow.

"You're right. Nobody's that cruel."

[centrally-unplanned]

Genre Straightjackets: A Bloom Into You Review

(Spoilers ahoy) I finished the Bloom Into You manga last night, a yuri-tale by Nio Nakatani that began in 2015. Its core conceit is that of a girl, Yuu Koito, who finds herself incapable of experiencing love the way her peers seem to, much to her confused chagrin. She finds a supposed equal in this lack in her try-hard perfectionist senpai Touko Nanami, but that equality is dashed as Touko falls for Yuu precisely because of her closed heart; in Yuu’s apathy Touko finds a pliant vessel for her own desires and needs that she never knew she wanted. Yuu tries to make it work and story ensues.

A lot of romance manga/anime can bore me as the core dynamic of the main duo is very mundane; there are *external* forces that create drama, keep them separated, etc, but their actual dynamic is cookie-cutter - they love each other! When will they realize it!? Bloom Into You really did a good job in its opening arcs of of setting up something different. Touko finding Yuu attractive because she can project her own anxieties on to her without complaint or need to factor in Yuu’s own relationship wants, a dynamic she is drawn to as she spends so much time being outwardly perfect she needs an outlet for her more selfish sides? Yuu constantly permitting her escalating intimacy out of awe for Touko’s outward success and charisma, pity for her weaknesses revealed in their alone moments, and own desire to effort-hack her way into experiencing love? This conflict is entirely internal, psycho-sexual dynamics premised on differing relationship needs as opposed to communication errors. In real life romantic dynamics are almost never equanimous, but romance manga have a tendency to place the differences entirely in the surface personalities (genki girl vs shy bookworm, etc), not in the actual needs of the pair, but Bloom Into You doesn’t appear to make that choice.

And even if briefly, it goes there on the sexual part of pyscho-sexual; you get hot make-out scenes in school sheds that aren’t just releases of sexual tension as Yuu is constantly negotiating what she is actually getting out the experience, experimenting between letting Touko sate herself on her body vs actually playing with the power she is learning to hold, while Touko is dancing between escalating her demands and not pushing too far someone who does not, in fact, love her back. The art really sells it too - nothing exceptional but it there is a lot of intentional polish here:

Touko’s (left) knowing smile and controlling hand vs Yuu’s uncertain-but-accepting passivity in this volume-1 shot, and it grows from there. Also Yuu is cute as fuck, those tiny twintails! Good shit Nakatani! I know what kink is and I am pretty sure you do as well, Yuu is out here growing into topping from the bottom as a subby ace and I am here for it.

Except alas Bloom Into You is not here for it. When I first read it my partner commented about how when she watched the first episode of the anime adaption her circle was all excited to have some asexual representation in anime, and even a chapter into the manga all the signs were there for that hope to be disappointed. Asexuality is not a thing in Japanese discourse (note: does not mean that Japanese ace people don’t exist), and the conventions of the yuri genre are way too strict. Narratives need arcs, and arcs need resolution, so of *course* Yuu is going to grow into actually loving Touko, and all that passivity will bloom into normal relationship dynamics. It has to, so we have an ending, and that ending can involve the mutual affection payoff - and pretty-good sex scene - the audience needs. Bloom into You was published in Dengeki Daioh, one of the big shōnen magazines in Japan, which tells you everything you need to know about how it will end. This isn’t My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness, and it never could have been due to the market forces creating it. Which means that the interesting dynamics on Yuu’s end fade away over time to be replaced by Happy Ending.

 Meanwhile, Touko’s perfectionist drive turns out to stem from a Tragic Past™ involving her dead sister who she idolizes and is trying to emulate, and her arc ensues from there. Remember Kare Kano? Oh you have taste, so of course you do? Thats good, remember how Best Girl Yukino has this entire conflict about how she is driven to be a perfectionist due to an addiction to praise and its been warping her behavior and relationships and the entire first episode of the anime is just this deep dive into her brain and the toll this is taking:

Oh hey, is that the same exact conflict Touko has? Oh funny, what a coincidence! So what is Yukino’s tragic backstory reason for putting on the perfectionist mask?

Nothing. She has a happy home, goals, the works. She just is an attention addict, its her personality. And to be honest in real life this is *way* more common. People have personalities and desires that are influenced by their circumstances but exist outside of them, and life is a constant journey of fulfilling, managing, or challenging them. In Kare Kano Yukino as a character gets that reality deeply explored, no dead sibling required. I am not out here to say that having tragic backstories is bad, or even that Touko is bad, she is not. However, by *externalizing* her character flaws to an outside cause, once that cause is *resolved* by narrative those traits more-or-less vanish, making A: her character more shallow, and B: her dynamic with Yuu more contingent, and ultimately more cookie-cutter.

I guess I am just out here looking for more interesting relationships, and Bloom Into You teased me with that potential but ultimately snatched it away. It was still good, if you like the yuri genre and the art appeals to you I definitely recommend it, and it has way more maturity than some its peers. Just not enough to break free from the straightjacket of its own genre conventions.

[tequilaasquared]

Maybe it’s just me but i actually love book!Mal because he is flawed? It stops him from being your typical cookie cutter ya love interest and adds a little spice to his character. I also love that it adds some conflict to his and Alina’s relationship. I live for the teenage angst but also recognise that his behaviour makes him imperfect and obviously stems from ptsd and the fear of losing the only person that loves him. I see a stupid teenager acting out and being selfish, as teens are wont to do, not signs of a toxic abuser. And not only is his behaviour not particularly bad (imo obviously) but he completely redeems himself by book three.

(putting the rest behind a cut because this got away from me a little)

So he was scared of Alina’s powers at first. So what? Of course he would be, it was a huge change and we also have to consider that he was raised like many others to resent Grisha and the special treatment they received. He moans about it for a hot minute then grows from it and dedicates his life to helping keep Alina safe so she can use those powers to defeat evil.So he becomes jealous, communication breaks down between Alina and himself and he starts drinking heavily. And?? He’s clearly going through some shit and needs an outlet. He goes about it in all the wrong ways, but there’s no set way to do anything when you’re traumatised and in pain.When the events of Ruin and Rising comes about it’s obvious he’s in a different place and it shows. He’s more open about his feelings, he’s content with his place in life and he’s accepted that he and Alina are probably not meant to be.

Which brings me to my next point - I also love Mal (and by extension Mal’s relationship with Alina) because his purpose in life was always to die to save Ravka. He exists to serve and die for his country both as a soldier but also as a mythical martyr. His life is one big act of servitude and his personality represents that - he’s friendly and popular, he loves helping others and, most importantly, he serves Alina. Many argue that he represents Alina’s weak and powerless side, but he is one of her amplifiers? He literally exists to make her, not only a more powerful Grisha, but also a more powerful person as she has to find the strength to kill someone she dearly loves to save the world.

That being said, I do understand that some people just dislike him for those traits and that’s fine, I just wish people would stop lying to justify hating him? Book!Mal doesn’t repress Alina, he doesn’t control her, he doesn’t abuse her and she actively chooses him (almost selfishly choosing him over saving Ravka and her friends if it hadn’t been for Mal helping her literally murder himself). He can be an arsehole and overprotective, but I ultimately find him the most human and ‘real’ feeling character in the trilogy with the most natural character progression from immature teenager to self sacrificial soldier.

[helahades]

The Goddess and the Grocer

(Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Sappy and hopelessly romantic, the part time art student, part time grocery bagger, and full time fantasy creator Steve Rogers lives in his head, with you as his muse. Making puzzles out of your groceries, and portraits of your every curve and edge, he fears and craves every interaction, while living with you as a lover in his mind.

A/N: Well. I have struggled with motivation for the longest. Something hit me though, and by something I mean other supportive writers and great friends. Hugest shoutout to @threeminutesoflife for being a darling and @imanuglywombat for making TWO beautiful mood boards I stare at more than Steve stares at the Peggy compass.

Warnings: creepy, obsessive Steve. ideation of creepy thoughts. food focused talk. mention of overeating. dub-con concepts. two mentions of alcohol consumption.

New blog, new me! I’ll take this moment to say I’m taking requests, and I love feedback even more than Steve loves you! hope you enjoy

Word Count: about 3k

-

Now rain slicked, the sheen of oil and water twists the reflections of the tonights red, red, green—-“can I make the turn, no too late” on yellow—now red traffic lights into a twisted rainbow on the city streets.

Down those streets, and across a barren parking lot, parents, lovers, businesspeople and more squeak and clack and slap their rainy shoes on the old speckled tile at the entrance (that Steve had just mopped) as they do every week.

At the Potts Grocery Store, nothing ever changes. And never in the night.

It isn’t just night though, it’s dead night. The odd time after things have slowed for sleep, after the rush in between when people bumble in (promising themselves promises they won’t keep about doing the shopping sooner next month), after the ten minute period within which Dr. Banner wordlessly picks up the same array of bland teas.

The night has crawled beyond all the events that happen as they do, and entered the dead night.

Maybe Steve is too poetic—like his dad says he is—too tied up in fate, and hope in life’s mystique, but he holds hope for what happens where the night is dead.

When the night dies, and most are asleep, with it, facades die too. The only people to come in the dead of night, are drunks, doctors, various night shifters, and… you.

He hasn’t yet questioned your reason for showing up so late. Hasn’t really, technically, spoken to you at all, really.

Some part of Steve thinks, maybe if he startles you, says something that clangs too loud or awkward, all your pieces will blow away, like some agitated dandelion, and he will never know you again, if he ever even knew you at all.

No, Steve’s job isn’t to startle you, or to take up your space. It’s to try and meet your eyes as you hand him the reusable bags. It’s to try and figure out what meal you’re planning from what he’s bagging, and what he already knows lies unused in your kitchen. It’s to put the bags in your cart if you’ll let him.

He hasn’t seen you yet. It’s getting late, where are you?

Somewhere between cold fluorescent and neutral warm desk lamps, the lights of the grocery store seem to exist both to chase shadows on tired shoppers' faces, and to mock him, like a candle finally blown out by a stood up date.

Had he done something wrong the last time? If he had, that couldn’t be helped. You were wearing those shorts and looked like you had just gotten ready for bed and you had your hair pulled back, but just a little fell into your face anyway.

And your scent. It always wraps around him like the saccharine spice of pastries when he swings open the bakery door for his morning shift.

The moment you breezed by him after checkout was almost too much to bear. He caught the fresh damp scent of your tied up and deep conditioned hair. You smelled like fresh linens and a life he can only imagine having when he’s chasing orgasms alone and twisting up his sheets.

He could have devoured you.

But he didn’t.

Not even when your shoulder accidentally grazed him while you were rushing out in a frenzy.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry,” came your frantic whisper.

He dreams of making you that delicate again. He thinks he could shape your unsure apologies in his hands like clay, or spread you thin on a canvas when you whisper so soft. But he didn’t do those things at all.

Steve being Steve, he tried to make his large frame slouch, your aura wrapping him up into a double life Clark Kent shyness, despite your gentleness.

He didn’t say a word.

A wordless, mirthless stretch of his lips. An “It’s okay, walk all over me” grin. You regarded him with a flicker of an odd glance, and then you were out the door.

As he finishes up with the last shopper in his lane, his worn Converse squeak as he leans his frame against the bagging station at checkout.

-

Last class, last week, his art teacher dropped a big assignment. Stuffy and sadistic, the man seemed to only eat the pain of lovers kept from expression, so of course, he relished in the moment he told the class to try a new medium, with a subject they hadn’t previously captured.

He seemed to look directly at Steve as he delivered the blow.

Steve's problem certainly isn’t creativity. It isn’t talent or lack of effort. He surely is adaptable, he rarely tells on his love!

For the still life project, he captured the tree that blocks your kitchen window. Heavy strokes in his sketchbook.

He even painted the park in blooms on a paper towel—yes a paper towel—when you justified to a cashier one day that all the crackers and deli meats were for a picnic.

So he has a muse. But he’s not a fool. Sometimes he spends so much time trying not to look like a fool, and paints so much around you instead of you, that it’s a self portrait of his own obsession.

Your face. Your curves. The many separated sections where he tried to master the texture of your hair. All those traces of you live in his sketchbook. Only twice has he turned in a portrait of you.

Being told he can’t have you makes Steve feel like he’s been too obvious. You’re his little secret. And he is no fool. He’ll have to be more careful. So here he is.

The canvas is as bare as the walls of his studio apartment.

Three jobs and a potted plant from his mom just aren’t enough to decorate life. He wishes he could capture sleep in a picture frame and hang it on the wall. When he got too tired and caffeine stopped working, he thinks he’d pick up those frames and absorb the sleep in the way he can absorb nostalgia when looking at a real picture.

Then, he thinks, that’s the sort of thing art majors say when they haven’t slept in three weeks.

The canvas is still bare. It isn’t like Steve. He always knows where to go, what he feels, what he wants.

His teacher told him to try something different. Had the nerve to clap Steve on the back after class and say something about stretching creative wings and finding a new muse.

He thinks the guy should have punched him in the face instead.

There’s nothing stuck about Steve. He knows what he wants and how to get there.

He also knows that schooling ruins the intent of art, he knows how to put love into colors, that art teachers know the least about expression out of everyone on earth, and that he works two night jobs a week to barely afford to be taught by that man anyway.

Life is full of oddities.

-

Some of life’s oddities are right there in your cart as you approach. Steve notices the rain has frizzed your hair, the lovely heart shaped curve of your lips as they stretch into a smile, and the way you yawn before you say hello to the cashier.

He makes a mental note that your hair might have a warmer tinge when illuminated by the sun. You’re already his sun. His stars too. Maybe even his whole universe.

You’re always warm in his paintings. Anything to separate you from the dreadful scheme of this commercial death trap.

What’s for dinner this week?

Your groceries thump onto the counter in practiced succession. Perishables together at the front, and non perishables as neatly as possible following behind.

So thoughtful, my sweet darling.

Your produce today mostly consists of fruit. It reminds Steve of how practiced he is with a knife. How he’d slice up your apples just right for you. He has the practiced skills of an artist. He’d take care of you.

Bucky likes to tell him that cooking is the art and baking is the science. That’s meant to mean that it’s no surprise that Buckys got a perfect little life with a perfect little baker who smiles like the sun and only trusts Bucky in her kitchen.

...And it’s no surprise that Steve’s artsy streak has led him here. Thinking about folding mandarin slices between your perfect lips and letting the flavor explode across your tongue.

He thinks about kissing you. How you would taste tangy and sweet as you try not so hard to push him off so he gets back to cooking and doesn’t burn the house down.

The house. A house with you. A home.

He sees you’re wearing a sundress, and tries not to pity you for the irony. In the closet of some cookie cutter three bedroom, you might ask him how you look in it. He would beg you to wear it just for him a little longer, but ultimately, he would have been able to warn you about the rain.

You wouldn’t have listened though, my stubborn angel.

He thinks about your thighs beneath your dress, and the heat between them.

Sometimes, his dreams betray him, and he steps through the threshold to your shared home, not an artist, but a “Honey, I'm home” suit wearing prisoner.

He fears the simple life, but with you, he believes simplicity could be enough. Maybe he would be rich enough to buy you a million sundresses.

But without his art, he’d be powerless to show you how rich you look, bathed in color, divine from his perspective.

Without his art, he has no outlet for imagination. The only thing that gets him off these days is imagining what you look like under your clothes, and how it might sound if you spoke his name.

When you buy lotion, or a candle, he makes a mental note of the scent, and uses it to color his experience later. You like warm sugary scents, or natural outdoorsy ones, with no in between.

As you small talk with the cashier, your card slips from between your fingers and clatters onto the unswept floor. Finishing a thought, you delay in retrieving it, but by the time you’re leaning down, Steve’s already handing it back.

Eyes flitting up to meet the baggage boy standing up at full height, you melt into an easier smile.

You notice first that his eyes are incredibly blue behind the dark window frames, and second that his hands are incredibly warm as he hands your card back.

Frazzled, and just a bit smitten, you smile kindly.

“Thank you,” you say sweetly, regarding him fully, perhaps for the first time, and pausing only to let your eyes drift to the knitted cotton polo stretched across his broad chest—no, to the name tag resting on it…

“Steve,” you finish with a smile that makes it ring like an exclamation point. To hear you finally pronounce his name… it’s like church bells. But they’re muted because now he can only consider your eyes locked on his.

He’s never wanted to escape somewhere and go home with someone so badly. And would it be so wrong?

He could slice up fruit for you. He could bring sausages and deli meats and blocks of cheeses whole from the market where they slipped him things free. He’d slice them up nice and wrap them in cloth and surprise you with an old fashioned wicker basket picnic in the mountains.

He’d let you eat yourself round. And after you were full, he’d still offer to feed you grapes, to pour you more wine.

Steve never understood why the rich ate bread with olive oil, but God he wanted to be rich enough to give you that. All the things that sound ridiculous to people who work to live. He wanted to work so hard you’d never work again.

He wanted to kiss you dizzy, bunch up the fabric of your dress on your hip and tell you he loves you while you’re wine drunk. He’d carry you back to the car and surprise you with wildflowers in a bunch.

Later, he’d paint you nude with them in your hair, and he’d feed you more grapes.

He would tuck you in and wrap you up for later when you woke up missing him. Maybe he wouldn’t leave at all. Maybe you would want to spend the whole day with him too.

He’s got a twinkle of charm in his eye and just a bit of sadness that looks every bit like the starving artist people believe him to be. Bucky hasn’t stopped bringing him the leftover rolls at closing since he found out Steve spends more money on paint than meals.

And is it so wrong? As Steve looks into your eyes, he musters all that charm his mom said he was born with. He blinks brighter the twinkle in his eye.

“You’re welcome,” comes Steve’s gentle, but sure reply.

You pause at that, because really it’s nothing... But people always seem to say “Don’t worry about it!”, “It’s nothing”, or maybe nothing at all.

You pause at how the reaction seemed genuine, in a world of practiced replies, and on a day that you’re feeling shitty because the rain ruined your hair and happiness.

You smile at him again, grateful for a pocket of truthful kindness, and turn back to the cashier, effectively ending the interaction.

Steve’s mind is spinning in ways he just can’t bring himself to understand. So he bags your groceries. You forgot the reusable bags, he doesn’t pause to wonder why.

Click. Click. Click. Beep!

Tomatoes. He bags them with the apples. Double bags for good measure.

Beep.

Spaghetti. The good kind that most people overlook in favor of a more common brand. New bag.

Beep.

Frozen garlic bread. He adores you. You’ve got garlic and basil and more herbs than you’ll ever need at home. You’d probably make the spaghetti noodles and parmesan yourself if you could. But you love five minutes at 400 garlic bread.

He imagines your pretty little kitchen, with all its various knick knacks, smelling like garlic and tomato sauce. He can’t help thinking you’d be impressed with his chopping skills too. Just how his mom taught him.

He imagines cooking with you in the dead of night, instead of being here. He imagines you bending over with your legs straight and your back curved and the oven mitts on to get garlic bread out of the oven. You put the tray on the cold burners Steve’s not using.

Maybe he would ask you to try the sauce, he’d hold the spoon to your lips after blowing off for you. Your eyes always flutter closed to process the taste of things, and sometimes he swears he could read your mind.

Then they would open. Wide. The same way they did when you tasted the new product double chocolate brownie sample last Tuesday. You would tell him how perfect it is and praise how he finally isn’t shy about using garlic anymore. Turning off the burners, he’d pull you into his arms, he’d kiss you til you saw stars…

-

Walking you backwards, still entangled in the breathless kiss, he wouldn’t stop until you bumped the padded kitchen bench. Then he’d fall to his knees.

“Steve, honey”—

You’d cut yourself off with a breathy moan because he’d already be under your skirt.

Kissing up your thighs, flattening his tongue against you, kissing you gently, before sucking your clit, while working it with the tip of his tongue, he’d show you again, like always, how passionate of a lover he is.

You’d moan like heaven, because you are.

You’d lean back, propping yourself up on an arm and pushing the other hand through his golden hair. You just can’t stop your hips from rolling against his tongue that’s still worshipping you.

He won’t use his fingers. It wouldn’t be proper, he’s just been cooking. So instead, he uses those hands to pull your thighs up onto his shoulders.

Still swirling his tongue around your clit, Steve is drawing you closer, your body seeming to know it’s own ways to pull him to you too.

It’s electric. You can’t stop and you’d never want to. He’d make love to you every single—

-

That’s not where he is though. He grabs the paper bags he’s bagged up with your ingredients and some other oddities, and he places them in the cart you’ve pushed forward.

He tries not to think about the fact that you’re going home alone. He tries not to think about how he’ll be sleeping alone, and in cold colors. Tries to skip forward to later when he has all the time in the world to imagine the way things should be.

A quiet goodnight and you’re on your way. You’re careful not to graze him as you walk away, and he’s careful not to be obvious watching.

The cashier leaves the station, and Steve puts his head down as he passes, before looking up in your direction as he always does.

Except… when he looks up to see your sundress swishing, it isn’t. And you’re turned back looking at him with this funny little look.

You smile. A twinkle of embarrassment, nervous to have been caught looking. He tries not to chuckle for all the irony.

He watches you as you watch him just a bit longer, before your sundress swishes out the door, and the light of your halo fades into the distance, consumed by the rain.

-

By the time his shift is up, the rain has stopped and the sky is colored like a bruise. The sun knocks at a threshold unseen, just slightly feathering light through the sky.

Steve is dead tired, but he won’t sleep a wink. Once he arrives at his apartment, he begins the project.

A mixed medium piece. Acrylic paint, charcoal shadowed details. It’s a wicker basket, full of apples, grapes, and wildflowers.

-

Later, as the sun rises, and the painting is half done, he flops into bed, finishing up a stale roll from the bakery, and dreams about waking up to you.

He pretends there’s no job to be at in three and a half hours, but instead, that it’s a quiet Sunday, and he’s waking up to you in his arms...

Soft and ethereal.

-

Thank you for reading!

Whether or not this is your type of writing, or you liked it at all, I just want to tag some authors who generally inspire me and helped in some way to motivate me posting my first piece: @threeminutesoflife @imanuglywombat @sherrybaby14 @jtargaryen18 @heavenbarnes @tropicalcap @allaboardthereadingrailroad @thotty-tatertot @sapphirescrolls

[memoir-of-the-girl-who-lived]

“I never would have guessed you have BPD.”

I wasn’t sure if I should have been comforted, or insulted by this comment, especially considering it came from a person who worked in the mental health field.  “I mean, I’ve worked with people in the past who had BPD, and you’re nothing like them! You’re actually.. Normal.” This was the point where I began to feel something shift inside of me. The phrase, ‘you’re normal’ just wasn’t sitting well. 

She began to tell me the story of a patient, one that had been admitted, and (from what I can gather) suffered from not only a sever case of BPD, but also many other factors as well. She told me how this woman constantly felt “wet” and “dirty” or like she was leaking water,  how her comfort place was in the shower. If allowed, the woman would spend hours upon hours in the shower, yet it was the nurses job to make sure that wasn’t allowed. It was on one particularly bad day that this woman had a complete break from reality, screaming that she was “leaking” and needed help. The nurses scoffed at her and told her off, telling her to spend an entire day in the shower, see if they cared to stop her. It was reported that this woman speak the next 16 hours in the shower, not daring to move or possibly even disassociating, and flooded the facility. The cops were called when the nurses could not get in, and as a result of this, the woman leaped from a window, and fought the cops while completely nude. 

This was the expected characteristics of what I should be like. This was the stigma that surrounded my mental illness. Yet I was deemed “normal”. 

People who suffer from BPD are, first and foremost, people. We are not raving lunatics unable to cope or process the world around us. We are not crazy. We are people. We are able to function in a normal society setting, we are able to go about life in a normal manner, and we are able to be around people without “acting like a person with BPD”. We have BPD, that does not mean we ARE BPD. 

Just like any mental illness, some suffer worse than others, and some are able to accept treatment with ease. 

Does that make the ones who have a harder time with this illness bad? Not in the slightest. BPD is (most commonly) developed as a result of early on abuse, whether that be physical, mental, sexual.... Or because as a child they were placed in a situation that left them in a continuous state of fear or sever discomfort. Not everyone faces the same trauma, not everyone goes through cookie cutter examples of abuse. This in no way disvalues what they suffered on either end.  

I wanted so badly to make a snide comment to her, tell her “Did it seem like I had BPD when I slit my wrists open just to watch myself bleed? Did it seem like I had BPD when I sat, dissociating, in the forest for 5 hours alone after I had smashed my phone? Did it seem like I had BPD when I smashed my head into the floor repeatedly because I was trying to crack open my skull so the bad thoughts could escape? Did it seem like I had BPD when I ruined relationships, and cried wolf, and did everything I could to push people away so that I could beg for them back?” Or was it simply the fact that I was able to sit in her kitchen, sip tea, and talk about our shared interests like a “normal” person, that made it seem so unbelievable. 

I was diagnosed with BPD when I was 23 years old. I am barely 26 now. This is an illness I have suffered with since I was a teenager, but was too scared, too unwilling, to speak to a doctor about. It took me over a year of seeing doctors before I was given my diagnosis, and the first thing my doctor said to me when I finally went to see her was, “You’ve been experiencing these feelings.. Since the age of 12? And you’re just now seeing a doctor at 22?.. I mean, it’s about time and I’m glad you’re here. But, wow.”

I suffered quietly with my illness. I let it grow and fester inside of me with no outlet, no knowledge of what was wrong with me. I, for the most part, thought it was almost normal to feel this way. It was only after I began to fully break down, that I realized I needed the help of a doctor. 

So to anyone out there thinking, “Am I crazy? Is this normal? Should I seek help?”

I hope that in some way, I can answer your questions and help those seeking answers. 

[elliepassmore]

East Review

5/5 stars

Recommended for people who like: fantasy, retellings, Norse fairytales, East o' the Sun West o' the Moon, Beauty and the Beast, quests

This is one of those books that remains a favorite of mine year after year. Something about the way Pattou writes just instantly draws you in. In a way, it really does feel like an older fairy tale you might find in one of those big children's collections--but for an older audience, of course. The writing style is actually rather similar to Tamora Pierce's writing, though not quite so obviously narrated to an audience. The plot follows along relatively well with East o' the Sun West o' the Moon, though it of course has additional things and twists that the original doesn't. The two major settings in the book--and by major I just mean the ones that see the most page-time--are Rose's house and the castle in the mountain. The farm is described in a way that instantly reminds me of spring, though of course it isn't always spring there, and I love the imagery of the green grasses and the woolly sheep, along with little Rose and Widow Hauptzig's loom. The castle, on the other hand, is described with such richness and grandeur I can almost feel the velvet of the red couch while I'm reading. By describing the two major settings this way, Pattou manages to capture the very lack of outdoors the castle has that begins to eat at Rose. As lovely as the castle is, even before Rose begins missing the outside, it's pretty clear that there aren't a ton of outlets to the world beyond the mountain simply through the description and feel of the setting. Beyond the two major settings, there are also several settings that take up less page time but still play a role in the excitement and richness of the story. Particular favorites of mine is the time Rose spends on Thor's knorr and the time she spends with Malmo traversing the arctic. Rose had me hooked from the beginning. She's curious, tenacious, and defies all expectations of her. Something I particularly like is the balance Pattou created between Rose's fierce independence and strength and with the side of her that weaves and sews, things that are typically seen as more feminine and not necessarily something that Strong Female Characters™ would do. I appreciate how much Rose is willing to learn on her journey, not just from herself, but from the people all around her. Naturally, though, Rose's curiosity is not always a good thing and gets her into plenty of trouble. Even in the thick of disaster, Rose keeps her head about her and sets herself on the path to logically figuring things out, whether that means taking stock of what she has or making a plan to move forward. Neddy has the second most number of chapters after Rose, I believe, though the story really is Rose's story, and to an extent the story of the White Bear and the Troll Queen. Neddy's clearly a protective older brother, but he's able to fulfill that role without being overbearing or suffocating. He wants to keep Rose safe, but he also doesn't want to stifle her, and outside of his desire for that, he also has his own dreams and goals that help round him out more as a character instead of leaving him as a cookie-cutter sibling. Neddy's chapters are always a little funny, particularly at the beginning when 'he' includes some of the poems he wrote as a kid. I think it would be interesting to see what Neddy gets up to after the events of this book or West, he seems like he'd be an interesting character to follow. The next narrator with the most page-time is the Troll Queen, though I think she probably competes with Neddy for which character narrates more after Rose. The Troll Queen is the villain of the story, and you certainly don't like her, but I think you can also kind of see (in a twisted way) where she's coming from. She's a princess, royalty, and has probably always gotten everything she's ever wanted, especially with her 'arts.' In her mind, stealing a human child to have as a life partner is no big deal...not. But still, her motivations seem obvious and you can definitely trace their path and to her she's done nothing wrong. Rose even mentions that the Troll Queen doesn't look at the White Bear like she wants to possess him, but like she loves him. It doesn't make her a sympathetic villain, but it does make her a more understandable one, which is a bit unexpected for a child-stealing troll. The White Bear is technically a main character and has his own chapters, but, like Rose, we don't really get to know him that well until the end. I will say, though, that I thought the way Pattou wrote the White Bear's chapters to be rather unique and I liked that he didn't necessarily have coherent thoughts. Father/Arne also gets a couple chapters to narrate, but not nearly as much as the others. I enjoyed learning a bit more about the family's background in Father/Arne's chapters and think Pattou did a good job in having him come across as a comforting, warm father figure. Part of this impression likely also comes from him being characterized in Rose's and Neddy's chapters as well as his own, but Mother was hard to like, I think on purpose, so it was a nice balance. I also think he does a good job balancing with Rose's adventurous side--Father/Arne wants to map the world but not travel it, Rose wants to see the world not stay home. I would definitely recommend this book if you're into fantasy or adventure. I've been reading (and rereading) this book for seven years and I still love it every time I come back to it. The richness of the world and the thrill of Rose's adventures instantly captivate you and make it hard to put the book down.

Already did a review on West, the sequel, you can find it here

[magic-is-something-we-create]

Character Playlist Tag!

AAAAA THANK my main was tagged by @lemon-writings, thank u again!!!

this also took a while because i got Invested in finding The Song for all of them

Rules: In this tag, you take the characters from one of your WIPs and select a theme song for them

We’ll be exploring the main 4 of Firebreathers, as well as several of the... less main? characters. They’re not minor, we get a lot of their viewpoints along the way. Idk. I’ll do intros for the others tomorrow probably, tho, SO lets go

Ember Timber: Money Run Low by The Score

I've been working my hands down to the bones / Where you gonna be when the money run low?

A lot of their time is spent working, both to make rent, and to make a better future alongside the rebellion, and the above lyrics are the most applicable to that, I think! Also, the bitterness in how it’s said in the song is exactly the way Ember would talk about this stuff, if they had an outlet.

Nimbus Timber: Wolf Bite by Owl City

It's another nightmare / I swear there's something out there / So save me 'cause I'm so scared / Will you show me the way?

Nimbus is plagued by nightmares and insomnia, and that, on top of his anxiety, self worth issues, and overall feeling of being lost is really captured in this one. Also, tbh, Owl City is my dream voice for Nimbus, at least when he’s singing.

Gabbro Meywin: Hurt Somebody by Noah Kahan + Julia Michaels

I'm afraid to be lonely / Nobody told me / It's harder than I thought to tell the truth / It's gonna leave you in pieces / All alone with your demons / And I know that we need this / But I've been too afraid to follow through

A lot of Gabbro is tied inherently with Ember and the complicated way their relationship has evolved over time. A lack of communication between the two has been a recurring issue, but they’re slowly working it out, and I think this particular piece of the song illustrates his fears pretty well.

Iceberg Corona: Next Up Forever by AJR

This is my imagination / This is how it looks and sounds / But I gotta go so much bigger / So they can never shut me down / I'm kinda scared of graduation / 'Cause who am I when this is done? / I wanna be next up forever / So the best is always yet to come

While Ice isn’t graduating, the insecurities about what comes next and who am I outside of all of this and if I don’t do this now, I’ll never have a chance are real to him and his struggles, especially with his place in the revolution and how he’s been wrapped up in it since before he could even really realize what he was fighting for. With the revolution almost there, almost to the point where it can make a change, he’s terrified.

Now for the side characters! With a healthy dose right away of what the fuck:

Tieling Evergreen: Hero by Elizaveta + Pegboard Nerds

This one is definitely less for the lyrics, though they are relevant, with the Chosen One thing and all, but there’s a particular part towards the end that’s sung in an almost awe-struck devotion type of way, and imagining the moment he immortalized himself (+Arthur Coldstone) to that choir makes chills run down my spine. With thousands of people praising them for divine intervention, and as the choir sings, everyone in the city rotting alive to fuel their ‘’’immortality’’’. And then, Tieling turning to Arthur with a wicked grin on his face, because “I made us gods, dear, can’t you see?” while Arthur retches on the floor of the temple in disgust at what Tieling’s just done.

I don’t know, it just makes me feel some type of way.

Also, since this post is getting long, I’ll drop names of the others real quick, with their songs, so you get a little bit of a feel for who they are/what their struggles will be during the book:

Dusk Timber: The Boy by Laurentius + Rosendale

Maple Timber: Cookie Cutter by Ivory Layne

Andesite Meywin: Where Do We Go by Lindsey Stirling + Carah Faye

YEAH so that was long again, i apologize. I’m gonna tag @keen2meecha, @akanorskwritblr, and @themillionthdraft!! no pressure, as always, and if anyone else wants to do it, feel free to tag me!!

[catrector]

The Immersion Tactic: Because we can’t stop telling people how to write

The writing process. You know, that thing that people want to tell you how to do properly. I’ve got some opinions. 

First and foremost, I'm no gatekeeper. I'm not here to tell you what is or isn't allowed, or what disqualifies you from the title of "serious author". I don't believe in cookie-cutter methods or elitism. I do believe in offering up information to others to do as they please with it, in order to help other writers find their way out of the dark woods that can be the writing process.

So. Let’s begin. As indicated by the title, my process has been immersion. Now wait, I'm not talking moving to France to bury yourself in croissants and macaroons. I'm talking diving in so deep that you're living your work during the majority of your free time. I'm talking about absorbing ideas and information while you're not actively working on your project, whether by watching a movie to study dialogue or by listening to a deeply moving love song to get in touch with your MC’s feelings. Writing is exhausting. Sometimes you need a break. But you can also choose to use your downtime in ways that benefit the work. 

If this seems an interesting theory, read on. It's worked for me, but it won't work for everyone. Maybe you'll steal a single item and leave the rest where it lies. I'm not here to judge; I'm here to build you up. Let me know if anything works for you. Here we go:

Sit in windows, on balconies, in gardens, at cafes, and on buses, and just stare into the abyss: You know when you lie down to sleep and then an amazing idea comes to you, and it's such inconvenient timing? It's not coincidence. You've finally stopped moving and thinking long enough to let ideas flow. Actively make time for this type of creativity by being idle. Leverage the still moments in your day to daydream about your story, even if you've completely zoned out at lunch and your whole table thinks you’re dead. 

Make a playlist: I have two playlists. I have one without English lyrics, so that I can tune out the world and focus on my task, and one with English lyrics. The second is a tool I use to immerse myself in my scenes and characters. I listen to it in the shower, on the bus, and while I'm doing the dishes. It forces me to remember the scene or character it references, and usually drives my motivation to write. Use this to keep your characters sitting on your shoulders at all times. 

Play video games: Yeah you heard me. While working on this project, I played God of War 4, Hellblade: Senua's Sacrifice, Northgard, Jotun, and a handful of other Norse/Viking themed games. They’ll never provide you with pure fact, but I learned to ask questions about the information they provided, to look up things they presented me with, and to study the contents for details I could use, like mood or setting. I didn't even know about Valravn until I play Hellblade, so I have no regrets. But don't be stupid. Horror games are perfect for brainstorming horror stories, dystopian  games for distopian worlds, etc. But I'm not dumb eh. You have no excuses to play Call of Duty if you're writing an Italian romance.

Watch TV: This depends on your subject matter. For me, I only watched Vikings. The takeaway is the same as playing games. Watch the thing, ask questions, look for facts. Study the content while you’re unwinding with ice cream and a bag of chips. Learn to identify tropes, try to guess where plots will twist and how, and then use those lessons to avoid being predictable. TV and movies are also the kings of dialogue, so pay attention. I learned a lot from watching Buffy on repeat, and recommend it to anyone.

Research with books: If you're not reading as research, you’ve missed a critical part of the reading books things. However, research isn't limited to looking up which era the T-Rex lived in. Read to study style, nuance, and flow. I started rereading the Kingkiller Chronicles because I wanted to learn from Rothfuss' writing style. No don’t argue with me. That man is a God.  

Make a Pinterest Board (or 20): How do you research ancient clothing, jewelry, and building types when your budget won't let you fly to Iceland for a month? Fucking Pinterest. Members of pagan communities who craft and wear period clothing have saved my life. Photo references of people, places, and things are key to any piece of research. Pin the shit out of things and then reference them for the rest of your days.  Go to a museum: Writing a book that takes place in ancient Egypt? Go get face to face with some mummies. Learn what you can while getting some air for once, and use the opportunity to talk out some of your ideas with your museum buddy. This applies to anything. Scout out cafes for scenes you're writing, go to fantasy festivals to drink mead and make offerings to Gods, check out a botanical garden and take notes, whatever floats your literary boat. Your body will thank you for leaving the house, and you won’t forget the experience. 

Go to writing meetings and don't actually write: Commiserating about the process might have been the only thing that kept me from crawling under a rock. Can't fix that plot hole? That's okay, these people know how you feel. Stuck on a section? They have some suggestions for you. Looking for research books? Somehow they have the perfect title for you. Sometimes you need a stiff drink and a chat to get back to work. (But for christ sake, don't be that guy who talks through work time. If everyone is feeling like chatting, fine. That's a group decision. Don’t be the asshat that distracts everyone else.)

Scribble down side stories: Sometimes something doesn’t fit the plot, but fits the world. It doesn't mean you shouldn't write it. It may help flesh out your current story. Keep a side folder for these and have fun writing them when you can't stand your story anymore. Cook and eat the food from your world: Good in the kitchen? Try making that exquisite meal you wrote into chapter 12. Remind yourself what sushi tastes like before you have to describe what it tastes like. Really want to go the extra mile? Learn to fish, make a fire and cook it yourself. IMMERSION. Sketch: If you have a talent for art, draw your characters. Draw their outfits, their jewelry, their pets. I did this a bit, but it turns out I'm out of practice and was more apt to throw the pencil through the window. Either way, it will help you visualize outfits, hairstyles, and will let you watch a fucking movie while you do it. Actually write the damn book: Naturally this is the most important part. You can’t get around it. You have to put in the time. I've done all of the above, but I've also stuck in hundreds and hundreds of hours of writing for this one story. And it can be hard to do the writing, I know that. But that’s what you’re here for, so when you’re done with the creative outlet, channel it into the writing. 

Now I hear the skeptics. These are all just distractions, you could just be writing! Listen, no one is saying don’t write. And you may be the type who can just sit and write, but not everyone is, and certainly not 24/7. All brains work differently. The conversation also conveniently ignores minds that function in other ways. Perhaps someone on the autism spectrum has another process than someone with synesthesia, or someone who’s neurotypical.  

Follow the path that takes you to the story. That path has more twists for some people than others. Put in the work, and do it how you need to do it. If you're worried about procrastinating because of all these side quests, give yourself guidelines and boundaries. Set yourself achievable goals that will bring you back to the work.

I’ve tried to have fun with my creative process, because that suits who I am, but it doesn’t make me less serious about the work I’m doing. Ask the people who haven’t seen me in a year if I’m committed to the work. The story will be written. It will be published come Hel or high water. I’m just doing it my way. 

TLDR; Don't let other people tell you how to be fucking creative.

[radhardened]

a New Year's space tea

One of the many media outlets that covered New Horizons’ New Year’s Day 2019 flyby of the most distant object ever explored by humankind was NHK, Japan’s national broadcasting organization. To celebrate the new year and the flyby, I hosted a tea gathering for the visiting NHK film crew on New Year’s Day with the help of two friends and tea classmates, among other invaluable helpers behind the scenes. I’ve wanted to host a space-themed chakai for ages, but it’s hard to identify a set of guests who would appreciate both the tea form and the space theme. This was a perfect opportunity.

I’m pleased to say the event went well. We all enjoyed ourselves, and the NHK crew members expressed heartfelt appreciation for the experience, a respite from an intense period of work on what’s easily the biggest holiday of the year in Japan.

Following are a few paragraphs on my planning and preparation. tl;dr: it was exciting, stressful, and instructive in a way that perhaps only tea people can appreciate, though I’ve tried to avoid tea jargon as much as possible so non-tea people can have a chance of understanding.

I scoured my tea utensil bins for items with space motifs that weren’t too obviously meant for (Tanabata in) summer. I resumed my stalled tinkering on designs for space-themed lid rests and tested whether the plastic was liable to melt under a hot kettle lid. I ordered a can of matcha from a company whose name and many of whose teas’ names start with 星 “hoshi,” the kanji meaning ‘star.’ I commissioned a work of calligraphy from a talented shodō-practicing classmate of mine. I considered astronomical motifs I could apply to a sweets tray and studied how to use metal leaf to apply them. And this was in December, when I was already designing, carving, and block printing end-of-year greeting cards; making and shopping for Christmas gifts; and being slightly occupied at work by preparing to usher a spacecraft through a close encounter with the most distant object ever explored by humankind!

Apparently unable to rest when I get it in my head to make something, I decided a few days beforehand that it would be nice to give my guests a copy of the utensil list printed on the back of my block-printed greeting cards. This led to hours of studying unfamiliar kanji to be able to read and write the names and makers of some of the Japanese-made utensils, as well as learning the Japanese counter word for “installed or mounted objects” (!) in order to describe the lid rest I designed depicting three Deep Space Network antennas. I’d also learn that my tea container’s name 三光 refers to a combination of three “bright” cards in one of the games you can play with hanafuda; it’s poetically apropos given the three celestial designs on the container that attracted me to it in the first place.

To accompany the pressed-sugar New Year’s sweets I bought, I made simple traditional buckwheat cookies called soba bōro (using this recipe but baking them for no more than half the time suggested). I wanted them to be shaped like little stars, echoing the dry sweets served along with New Horizons-shaped sweets at a Tanabata chaji hosted by a former Midorikai classmate. After 3D printing a scaled-down version of this star-shaped cookie cutter I found its walls were too thin and weak, as often happens with models printed smaller than they were designed to be; MakePrintable saved that model, but in the end I preferred the results from the tool I’m now sure my friend used at the Tanabata chaji—a Chinese bellflower-shaped cutter. The resulting shape is like a star with just enough chubbiness to render it cute. (If we had known the shape of New Horizons’ target in time, I would have made them in that shape using the cookie cutter I designed using CookieCaster.)

Below is a record of the utensils I used and—where applicable and known to me—their makers.

花 Flowers 椿と南天 camellia and nandina 花入 Flower container 黒唐津焼き black Karatsu-ware 掛軸 Scroll 色紙：宇宙 Shikishi: "uchū” (universe/cosmos/space) Robert Bernhards 「伯恩」"Haku-on" 釜 Kettle 筒釜　竹地紋 cylindrical with bamboo pattern 棚 Shelf 宗旦好丸卓 Maru-joku in the style favored by Sōtan 水指 Fresh water container 染付 sometsuke 薄茶器 Tea container 三光棗　糸目 "sankō" 中村宗悦 Sōetsu Nakamura 茶杓 Tea scoop 銀河 "ginga" (Milky Way) 西村寿峰 Hisamine Nishimura 主茶碗 Main tea bowl 天の川　瑠璃釉 "ama no gawa" (Milky Way) with lapis lazuli glaze 八木海峰 Kaihō Yagi 替茶碗 Second tea bowl 「NASA」 Tom Sachs 建水 Waste-water vessel 餌畚 efugo 蓋置 Lid rest ディープスペースネットワークの椀形アンテナ三基 trio of Deep Space Network dish antennae 内製（3Dプリント） self made (3D printed) 茶 Tea 星授 "seiju" 星野園 Hoshinoen 干菓子 Sweets 打物 molded sweets ばいこう堂 Baikōdō そばボーロ soba bōro 内製 self made 菓子器 Sweets tray 月相 moon phases 内製 self made

[amandajeanwrites]

you say you want a revolution...

As I sit, on a dog-fur covered couch, with aching wrists from over-exertion in the form of writing, I feel incredibly proud. I’ve been contemplating how to write this post for weeks now, excited by the idea of starting a new blog that’s all for me and exactly how I want it, but nervous that it won’t be perfect. Of course, I see the irony in it, because the point of this blog is anti-perfection. I wanted to start a revolution, as it were, a renaissance of imperfection in a space that is now so flooded with ideals and standards to be met and maintained. 

Let me take it back for a moment to explain myself. I watched a YouTube video a few weeks ago that really sparked my intrigue. A fashion YouTuber and blogger I’ve followed for years, Lily Melrose, recently posted a video where she “reacted” to her “cringeworthy” old fashion blog posts from when she first started her blog. I’ve always enjoyed her style, and I clicked knowing it would be interesting and perhaps as nostalgic for me as it was for her. Being apart of the millennial generation, I feel like nostalgia is something we really cling to, isn’t it?

Anyway, throughout the video, I was surprised and inspired by Lily’s so-called “cringeworthy” reactions to her outfits. Instead of being shocked and horrified by the pairings she made, she recounted endless great stories that the photos and blog posts brought to mind from her past. She looked amazing then, and now, but it wasn’t so much the fashion that had inspired me, but rather her mentality. She was reminiscing on days before being a “fashion influencer” was even a term in the English language, before photos of outfits could be monetized. She mused on taking and posting the photos for fun, wondering if anyone would be interested in her personal style. She credited her excitement to her quick blow-up within the fashion and blogging community.

That really resonated with me, the idea that way back when, you didn’t have to be perfect to gain traction. Her photos were often shot at awkward angles against her bedroom wall, only showing an outfit from the thighs upward, occasionally cutting off an arm or her forehead. They weren’t all in the same color scheme to make her theme “cohesive”. Her high-light wasn’t “on fleek”. She had bad days that she wrote snippets about. Her life wasn’t perfect, and most importantly, she was doing it for herself, and not the hundreds of thousands of followers she gained from her candidness.

I think today, social media is in a bad place. It’s on track to the right direction. Creators are finally opening up and showing human qualities moreso than they ever did, but the vast majority of things I find on Instagram (specifically, but also on YouTube and within the blogosphere) are highly curated images and videos. Every post has been read and reread and edited a thousand times to seem “clickable”. I’ve noticed myself really shying from the same cookie-cutter content, bored with it and ready to move on to real people providing click-worthy content.

Shane Dawson, another YouTuber I really admire, recently switched from short format videos, taste-testing Wendy’s products and conspiracy videos, to longer format series, really digging deep and delving into the human experience. To see such a change in him has been incredibly inspiring, and his point-of-view is unmatched in his industry. It’s refreshing, and in my mind, highly clickable.

I think I’ve gone on a tangent. What I’ve meant to say about all of this is that I’ve really been struggling with hypocrisy. I’m constantly inspired by creators all over the world who stand out of the box and really push their point-of-view, no matter how outlandish or abrasive it may be at first. I notice creators taking risks and doing what they are passionate about and thriving whilst doing it. Not only do I want to thrive while pursuing my own passions, but I want to inspire others to do the same. That’s always been my goal in life, to inspire and encourage other’s to follow their passions and interests.

On the flip side of that, I’ve noticed myself shying from social media. I’ll get really excited, brushing off the perfection, saying to myself that I should produce the content I enjoy, and do it for myself. I shouldn’t worry about numbers or the color pallet of my feed. Yet, I believe it’s been engrained into me through society and social media and the popularity of it all that I should strive for those numbers, for that perfection. So I hesitate to post, worried that whatever I’m writing or photographing or filming won’t live up to my own standards of what I think society expects from me.

So, this is a long winded way of saying that I want to change that, about myself. I understand I can’t start a revolution. I don’t have that kind of voice, or the personality of a strong leader. I also understand that I can change myself. I can push myself away from insecurities and towards the intended inperfections. I can write whatever I’m feeling, stream of consciousness like I am now. I can take fifteen photos of my dog and upload them to Instagram. I can record a cover of a Harry Styles song and upload it to YouTube. I can do all of these things because the internet is a free space and the perfect outlet for creativity. 

This particular space, Tumblr, I’ve clung to for years now. It started as a little area of the internet for me to post my writing. At first, admittedly, I used it to cyber-stalk a boy I liked. He introduced me to the site, but I feel like it’s grown so much for me since then. Through my dash, I’ve watched social circumstances change. Educational dump posts have come and gone, anti-bullying campaigns, fanfiction. It’s an ever changing exchange of discourse for people without another outlet, and as far as I’m concerned, Tumblr has no limits.

I thought this might be a safe space for me to post whatever inspires me. I had another Tumblr where I posted my daily dribbles for over 500 days in a row. That experience was incredibly freeing and enlightening, and I had no idea what sort of inspirations it would spark. Now, I’d like to use this blog as a place where I can jot down my ideas and inspirations and hopefully inspire people from all walks of life. 

I hope to promote imperfection and candidness. I hope to spark discussions that inspire and enlighten me further. I hope to gain traction and excitement for other projects in my life.

I guess that’s kind of all I have to say for now. I hope it sort of explained what you can expect, hopefully the unexpected. If that’s not defined enough for you, I plan on posting word dumps here. Opinion pieces strung together by a stream of consciousness, similar to this. I will post reviews: literary, film, television, music, live performances, whatever I can get my hands on. I will post mood boards compiled of images from Tumblr or Insta or Pinterest or real life. I’ll post music playlists for how I’m feeling at that time on that day. I’ll post little things that made me chuckle or made me cry throughout my day. I’ll post little snippets from the books I’m writing, little insights to my characters. 

So, stick around. It’s going to be fun, this little revolution of ours.

Thanks, as always, for reading. xo

[crisps-craft]

hii can I get a reading on if pursuing politics is a good idea for me and how to go about It ??-GRM♊️ thank uu💓💓

hello!

i pulled - ace of cups, 7 of pentacles, 5 of swords, 5 of pentacles, magician (in reversed), 2 of cups, page of cups, strength, and 8 of wands

first of all, i want to say that if you feel called to pursue something you are passionate about, then you should definitely go for it. i believe in you- and i received some very interesting energy while reading from your pile.

i feel like you might've had some bad experience that made you want to go into politics? i feel like you had someone very close to you- like a family member, maybe even a grandmother (give or take??) - who you witnessed experience an injustice due to our current system. something about this field is veryyyy personal to you. this could even be a community that you are in that you witnessed get screwed over, too. i feel this sense of pain from you, you felt like you had no control. you felt like your power and your family's power and mobility to find a solution were halted or restricted in some way. i keep feeling frustration and crying. its a feeling of being forced to accept an injustice. when i feel this feeling from you i literally want to punch a fucking wall. there's rage in you, but you've found your passion and drive as a good outlet or these feelings

i got this visual of a family member not being able to afford insulin- this can be a metaphorical or a literal message. but again, it shows the emotions of the situation. the revelation of witnessing the broken system, the frustrated helplessness. im seeing a family member who works so so hard but just can't seem to get ahead or support themselves (fuck capitalism man) idk why but im seeing an apartment that needs renovations but they can't get it. leaks from the ceiling, dusty and pale yellow walls. the energy is warm (a very warm and tight family) but the home itself needs some repairs but im seeing that this person can't afford it.

^^ this message could resonate and be a literal interpretation that is personal for you, or it could even be a metaphorical message from spirit telling you that those people need help and to remind you of why you want to go into this field.

you have a strong desire to help people who have less than you. you want to help people who you see parts of yourself in- you can relate to these people. i absolutely think this is a good path for you- the strength card and 8 of wands have a lot of powerful energy for you. you are able to view things very critically, i feel like you are very analytical and have an eye for detail. not to mention your drive. you seem very ambitious and once you are set on something, you will achieve it.

i got another message which is that, politics is a broad field so allow yourself the open mindedness to embrace the various routes you could follow in this path. maybe there's some alternative route or out of the box path in how you do this. for example, don't do the cookie cutter "this is what you do to get where you want to be". i think you need to embrace your independence and also your personal power. maybe this could be through writing, creating your own organization? i see you leading something related to politics taking off. i feel like this could help you a ton!

writing and speaking could be good for you. i see lots of volunteering and being on the front lines being good for you. seeing the broken system that you want to change for yourself. dont get caught up in "major in poli sci, then do this, then do this internship..." cookie cutter way of pursuing this. etc. (not that a poli sci major isnt a good idea, but again, avoid cookie cutter paths) spirit wants you to take an out of the box approach. maybe make a blog, a youtube channel, start an organization (i can REALLY see you starting an organization and THRIVING with it), etc. i see you being very self driven and being your own boss. this will be the most successful approach for you- not to mention it will help you stick out and also gain very real and valuable experiences.

i hope that this could help and resonate! let me know if it was accurate <3 i have faith in you. chase your goals. you have so much maturity, strength, and drive. i see a lot of power in you and im not saying that lightly.

[anjalena123]

Commission Clone Honest Review

Introduction If you are running a website and selling affiliate goods, you will know the major problem is traffic. But you do not just manually improve your traffic, I am sure you need a budding webmaster or super affiliate that are free, fast and profitable. Doesn’t it sound impossible? It is not, definitely not. There is a new software app “Commission Cloner” that turns the impossible tasks into the really possible ones, and it is called Commission Cloner. Or There are two things you need to profit in 2021. One is traffic, specifically free buyer traffic that’s on hand, 24/7 and the other is proven deals, somewhere to submit the free traffic that you know will produce commissions. But what if you don't have time or resources to produce costly content that "goes viral," develop thousands of backlinks for Google SEO, spend a big $20k test budget for ads & PPCs, and don't own an established website to turn that traffic into revenue. And imagine having to repeat that for every niche!

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Launch Date:                       2021-Feb-12

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There are a plenty of features and countless benefits with Video man that I listed few of them as below. (You can check more in the Pros and cons section as well as in each offer to purchase Commission Clone)

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Honest Commission Clone Review: Is it worth using? Most ‘beginner-friendly’ online income systems are complete BS. Sure, they CAN work … But once you get inside, you soon see you need to put in months of effort:

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-DISCLOSURE- I am affiliated, but not sponsored by any product featured in this article. The links in the article are my affiliate links which means if you click on one of them and buy the product I’ll receive a small commission. Not being sponsored allows me to keep my own opinions and provide product reviews without bias. From the millions of products, I pick the ones I personally have tested and have been highly impressed which I’ll then recommend. This is how I feed my family by making honest and useful reviews so that you can make informed buying decisions. I appreciate your support.

[justjessame]

Babysitting Butcher Chapter 47

“What’re you watching?” Billy came up behind me in our home office, his voice breaking through my earbuds and making me jump an inch out of my chair.  “Sorry, didn’t mean to spook ya.”  His lips against my forehead made the tension ease from my body.

“I must have been more riveted than I thought.”  I hit pause on the video, and sat back.  “Just thought I’d prep for meeting  Ryan.”  I’d been watching one of the stop motion videos Ryan had made of one of Becca’s favorite movies.  “He’s talented,” I offered, smiling up at Billy, “I can’t think of many kids under ten who can use Legos to make a complete remake of ‘Dances with Wolves.’”  

“Becca always loved that stupid flick.”  He shook his head, a sad smile lurking on his lips.  “You were watching a movie he made?”  

I nodded, and pointed at the computer screen.  “Yeah, he made a bunch, all non-violent movies.  Clearly an outlet his mom wanted him to have.  A good one, a way for him to be creative without being-”

“Without him tapping into his powers?”  Another nod from me.  “What’re you worried about, Ronnie?  Really?”  

I considered how to explain without freaking out Billy Fucking Butcher to the point he’d go commando mode.  “Vought went completely opposite from where it went with Homelander with Ryan.”  I pointed out that they created an entirely false, safe community for him and Becca.  A cookie cutter, normal place with bland people, with a bland school, and with bland hobbies.  “Becca wanted so badly for her son to have a normal life, a safe and happy life, Billy.”  I rarely used her name and it felt strange on my tongue, but I wanted him to understand why I needed to see that Ryan was in a good place.  “I’d love to say that whomever Mallory was told would keep him safe is a good fit, but let’s be realistic, he’s being held by our government.  If Vought has some shady shit going on, do you honestly think that the US government is always on the up and up?”  

“You’re worried that he might be being what, Ronnie, what are you worried about?”  He wanted me to name it. To put it in exact words, but I wouldn’t, not only because I didn’t know for sure, but also because I didn’t want Billy to make a hasty decision that couldn’t be undone.  

“I just want to check on him, Billy, that’s all.”  I stood up and moved into his space, where he’d perched on the side of the desk, stepping between his legs and looking up into his face.  “I want to make sure that your promise to Becca is being kept, that’s all.”  And for the most part, that really was it.  I just worried, in the pit of my stomach, that it wasn’t.

I managed to watch three of Ryan’s Lego stop-motion film adaptations, getting Billy to watch “Terms of Endearment” with the promise that I’d reward him heavily.  I also was sworn to secrecy about the glassiness of his eyes at the end of it, because the pollen count was clearly high, it had nothing to do with the show, nothing at all.  I also went over some of the other videos from Becca and Ryan’s time before Homelander and Billy found them.  

I wanted to know what Ryan’s schedule with his mom had been like.  The day to day, their special rituals, how they interacted, how they communicated.  This was important because, even after Homelander unveiled the reality of the world at large to Ryan, Becca and Ryan were still a duo.  Even when he took Ryan away, even when Stormfront tried to weasel her way into his affection, Becca was still his foundation.  Knowing how Ryan was reared by Becca would help me when I met him because it would help me gauge how he was dealing with the changes in his situation and circumstances.  How was he handling it, how were his powers manifesting because of it?

I also had Frenchie get me a tiny gadget that I didn’t want traced through the office or the usual channels.  It had come to me while we were having our party and Annie sat across from me at dinner.  If Vought chipped The Seven, then why wouldn’t they do the same to Ryan- the FIRST known child born of a supe.  And if that chip had been removed by his new guardians, why wouldn’t our people put one in.  My own experience showed me that it was more than likely that he was wired to the gills, even if he had no clue, so I had a gizmo that was more or less like an app on my phone that would tell me if he was and would act as a jammer should that become necessary.  

I felt like a conspiracy theorist, but something about Ryan’s situation, the more I thought about it, the more it felt worrisome.  Billy, after careful consideration, was coming with me, but wanted to stay out of sight.  He promised me that he didn’t feel homicidal toward Ryan, but he wasn’t up to a face to face just yet.  Having him close by would be enough, for now.  And knowing that the rest of the supes were diverted with their own distractions kept my blood pressure down, for the most part.  

Nondescript.  That’s how I would describe the neighborhood and housing development that Ryan’s new guardians chose to take up residence in.  Every house seemed to be identical to the one next to it, and honestly, from what I’d seen of the fake Vought community that he’d been raised in, it had more character.  

“This is,” I sighed, as Billy grimaced while he drove down the boring street.  “Bland.”  Maybe they thought bland kept a supe calm?  Or maybe government guardians made shit wages and adopting Homelander’s offspring isn’t exactly lucrative, who knew?  

We pulled up to a house that was forgettable, and Billy sighed.  “So much for staying out of sight.” No trees, no bushes, this was the worst place I’d ever seen for recon.  Which made some sense, if you considered supes trying to sneak up to abduct a kid.   “I’ll wait here, Ronnie.”

“Alright,” I turned to see that he was staring at me like he was willing me to stay in the car.  “I’ll be fine, Billy.”  Leaning closer, like a magnet he met me halfway, our lips brushing.  “I love you, don’t go crazy.  Play a game on your phone or something.”  He snorted and I got out of the car.  

The sun beat down on the grass, which was surprisingly green, but there wasn’t any added color of flowers, nothing lined the walkway, there weren't any decorative touches added- no chairs on the porch, no flags, or wreaths.  Nothing that would mark this house from any of the others.  They didn’t even have a welcome mat.  Shrugging, I pressed the doorbell and waited.  And waited.  Finally I heard the muffled sounds of footfalls on the other side of the door, then the clicks and snaps of locks being turned, before the door opened a sliver and a bright blue eye blinked out at me.  

“Hello?” The voice was quiet, hoarse, as though it was rarely used, and I smiled benignly.  

“Hello, I’m Dr. Veronica Taylor,” let me in, I thought.  “I have an appointment to meet with Ryan.”  Open the damn door.  

“Right,” the door shut, but instead of reopening all the way, I heard muttering on the other side and then again the blue eye in a sliver reappeared.  “Do you have ID?”  Couldn’t fault that caution, but I did have to question why it took a second person reminding this one to issue it.  

Smile starting to twitch, I pulled my badge free, along with my office ID.  “Here,” I held it up for Blue Eye to see, along with whoever might be behind her, but out of reach so she couldn’t grab it.  “Now, may I come in for my appointment with Ryan?”  

Again the door started to shut, but again there was a whispered conversation and I was starting to lose my patience.  “Whose in the car?”  Damn it.  I sighed.  

“My driver, William Butcher.”  Blue Eye, who’d reopened her slat to ask blinked before her eye went wide.  “That’s right, same last name as Ryan.  Now may I enter?”  

The door opened only wide enough for me to slip inside, and on the other side was a slender woman, the owner of the blue eye- I was happy to see that she had two of them.  And a man who demanded I submit to a pat down.  Rolling my eyes, I sat my briefcase down, and stood with my arms out and my feet shoulder width apart.  Once he was convinced I wasn’t packing heat, I was led into a surprisingly bright and airy living area. 

In fact, aside from the blandness of the exterior, the entrance was beautifully laid out and decorated.  Large screen television, the art on the walls was both bright and yet also simple, the house was comfortable and lived in, but well appointed as well.  Told to make myself comfortable in the family room, Blue Eyes went to fetch Ryan, while her male companion stood watch over me.  

“I do hope you know that as a psychologist, I have to ask you to leave the room when Ryan and I sit down together,” I offered, as I took a seat where I could keep my eye on the guard.  “It’s a violation of doctor/patient privilege, you see.”  

“He’s a minor,” the man grunted, and I grinned.  

“Do you want me to throw my full weight around?”  My head was tilted in challenge as Ryan was led into the room.  The man huffed at me, but he led Blue out and I waited until I felt they were at least a reasonable distance out of eye sight.  “Hello, Ryan.”  He was staring at me like he wasn’t fully committed to trusting me, which was good.  Ryan needed to learn a healthy level of distrust in the real world.  “My name is Dr. Veronica Taylor.”  He stepped closer, but well out of reach and I wondered if he’d learned a new reason to distrust.

“I thought I heard you say Billy’s name.” I smiled and nodded.  “Is he here?”  He looked slightly hopeful and it broke my heart.  

“He’s outside, in the car.”  His eyes dropped to the carpet and I took a deep breath.  “Would you sit down with me, Ryan?”  He shrugged and I tried again.  “Billy and I want to make sure you’re doing well, that you’re-”

“If I’m not, would he-” he stopped, but I’d heard it, the slight break in his voice and I felt a clench in my heart.  “He wouldn’t want me to come live with him, would he?”

Shit, I thought, that wasn’t a question I’d prepared for.  “Come sit with me, Ryan, let’s talk about why you’d want to live with Billy instead of with Mr. and Mrs.-” Fuck, what was Blue Eyes and whatshisname?  

Leaving Ryan in the brightly decorated on the inside, but bland as vanilla pudding on the outside house was the hardest thing I’d done since I left the clinic after Homelander’s failed attempt to murder me.  Hearing that he wasn’t mistreated, necessarily, but that he also wasn’t being cared for so much as he was being lived with was bad enough.  Remembering the gadget I’d asked Frenchie for, I’d run a quick scan and felt bile rise up when I realized that not only did our government chip the kid, but they hadn’t removed Vought’s.  Why would they leave those trackers in?  

Saying goodbye to this little guy, a kid who idolized the man I love and who shared his last name, was harder than anything I’d ever thought possible.  Harder than walking into a clinic and having Homelander’s parasite removed.  Harder than slipping in and out of consciousness when the rejected Compound he’d had me injected with tried to self-destruct me.  Harder than when I thought Billy might one day see me as someone he would have to snuff out.  

Ryan wanted to know if I’d be back, and when, and if I’d know if he could leave with me?  And I wished like hell I could tell him something worthwhile.  I knew I had more research to do, more files to delve into, including who Blue Eyes and Mr. Personality was, not to mention just what this neighborhood really was and how Ryan’s life was outside of that house. 

As I slid into the car, before Billy could ask a single question, his thumb was brushing a tear away that I didn’t even realize was falling.  “Do I wanna know how fucked up it is?”  I shook my head, feeling like I couldn’t even start to put it into words and suddenly the sobbing that I hadn’t done for any of the shit that I’d had handed to me from supes came out in a rage and Billy pulled away from the curb, murmuring his love to me, as his hand held mine and he drove us home.