#and then believing consistently and unless you were there for that change you don't understand

[doux-amer]

I can't believe I had such a massive headache and my eyes felt swollen all day because of the amount of crying I did this morning through the post-match farewell ceremony. I had to stay offline because everything would set me off, and like a fool, I just went on Instagram, thinking I'd be okay because I watched everything and for the new stuff, I could scroll past them and see them another day. But of course I cried again. The only way I'm getting through this week is because I have an overwhelming amount of work that's going to increase once the work week actually starts.

[implausiblyjosh]

RIP Cohost

Cohost is shutting down because... well, of course it is. Cohost shutting down is the most "writing on the wall" shit for the last several months. The wealthy friend/funder ghosted them at one point in the last 12 months. Despite Anti-Software Software Club saying they were a "not-for-profit software company", they were just a regular LLC paying themselves near 100k/yr for their four FTEs. When they got new funding, after being ghosted, a stipulation of that funding was for them to be consistent in posting public financial updates, which they missed almost immediately. I cannot believe it lasted this long.

That they're still saying that "eggbux", the tipping and support features, fell through because of Stripe policy changes, something that seemingly did not happen, is wild. Can't even be honest at the end. Like... Cohost's early ideas started as a Patreon alternative. They've been working on "eggbux" as a concept basically since inception of Cohost. But up until the last year they were still working on this idea of being this Patreon/Ko-fi alternative without understanding the policy of Stripe and how that would work. I don't think it can be stressed enough how weird cohost's framing of the Stripe Policy Issue is. Nothing meaningfully changed about Stripe policy, ASSC just thought they could be Patreon/Ko-fi on a whim and then realized that's not how it works and had to stop dev on that.

Also, there was always this undercurrent of "Uber reinvents cabs and busses" to the whole thing. The Artist's Alley thing was just Project Wonderful, but was being pushed as a wild new thing for user-supported ads. And, like Uber, it was a pretty rough implementation of a thing that already exists because you had to click to a specific area that was just ads!

As much as I had enjoyable moments on cohost, I think it's silly to paint the site as anything it wasn't. I mean, one of the last big culture issues on the site was staff refusing to delete racist comments on a staff post until publicly shamed for their cowardice! Cohost was clearly not good for everyone who posted there. Someone got ran off the site for linking to cohost's official feature requests forum too often to ask for accessibility features, and popular people on cohost waxed poetic about how deserved it was that the person got ran off the site for being annoying. There were near-constant issues with racism not being handled well at all from a culture perspective, especially when people would criticize how white the culture of the site was. Hell, I saw someone be extremely bigoted on bluesky, then run to cohost for sympathy and get it. Even when people pointed out how bigoted they were on bluesky, with screenshots and everything, they justified it and had loads of defenders helping justify the bigotry!

I think teeing cohost up as some sort of "good sites can never exist unless it's corporate sludge" point also doesn't make sense since the site never had a plan for profitability. You can't be funded by a wealthy friend forever. There never seemed to be a plan, which is fine for a hobby but not fine when you're begging for cohost plus subs every month or so to fund your near-100k salaries. It never made sense in the long term, their own reports said so, and people were shouted down for pointing these things out.

No webbed site is perfect, and that includes cohost. It had issues up until the very end. It does no one any good to ignore the bad or pretend it was perfect, regardless of how much the site was good for you personally.

Sucks that a lot of cool people put their eggs in that posting basket, and I hope they find a different place that scratches similar itches.

[laurel-finch]

'I Don't Bite' S1.Ch10: Winds of Change

Summary: Returning to the Winchesters does not meet expectations... Referenced Episodes: S1 E16 "Shadow" CW: Alcohol. Arguing. Normal Supernatural things. Another ridiculously long chapter, my b. Word Count: 8209 Recommended Song: Winds of Change -- Scorpions Previous Chapter -- Masterlist -- Next Chapter

I gnawed on my lower lip as I jammed another number into my phone, praying that this time one of the brother’s would pick up. I had a handful of Dean’s phone numbers and only two of Sam’s, but I knew they had more that they hadn’t felt the need to share with me. It all came down to which phone they were actively using for the case they were on. There was no consistency with them.

I glared down at the number I knew to be linked to Dean’s ATF persona. There was a chance he would answer, but it was slim. I really needed a better way to get ahold of the brothers. I sighed and hoped I would have better luck with Sam as I dialed one of his numbers next.

After six long rings, the call dropped. No answer. I pinched the bridge of my nose and kicked at a pebble in the middle of the deserted motel parking lot. Apparently, I'd need to call all of their numbers.

Three numbers in I finally heard a receiving click on the other end and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hello?" came Sam's gruff voice on the other end. I was surprised to hear his voice instead of his older brother's.

"Sam? Hey, it’s me," I heard a lot of shuffling from the other end, like he had bolted upright from shock. “Where, um… where are you guys?”

Sam was silent for a beat before speaking again. "Is everything alright?" I flinched at the wariness in his tone.

"I'm fine, Sam. Better than fine actually," I answered quietly. I placed my other hand over the speaker of the phone and turned my back to the motel parking lot conspiratorially. My voice dropped to a soft tone. "Look, I… I know it’s been a while and you probably don’t want to see me, but-"

"I do," he interjected quickly and I clamped my mouth shut. "Believe me, I do- we do. But what about your pack? And, well… I mean, Dean’s pretty pissed. He’s been pissed. He’s been throwing himself into this hunt for dad."

I frowned at the worn pavement beneath my feet. I figured he would be mad at me, but facing the reality of the situation hurt regardless. Maybe I could just… ignore it all. Go back to my pack, forget it ever happened. Like I never met them. Would that be easier?

No. No, that would hurt more. I mentally cursed myself for getting so attached. "Did you tell him why?”

"Yeah, yeah I tried to explain it to him. But… well, look at it from his perspective. Dean’s spent his whole life killing, and the one time he decides not to…" he sounded distraught and I heard more shuffling from the other end.

He didn’t need to finish his thought for me to know what he meant. Dean had done me a favor by not killing me when we first met. At the time it hadn’t felt like much of a favor – maybe death would have been safer. But now, with how much our lives had changed… it was understandable that he was frustrated. The one different choice he made led to a human being killed and me running off without a word.

I fell silent, pondering what to say next. How was I supposed to explain to them why I left? I think Sam understood better than he was letting on. It wasn’t too dissimilar to why he left for college, although his reasoning wasn’t nearly as bloody. But Dean… it made sense that he would be hurt…

"I want to see you, Sam – both of you. I want to apologize to Dean, but I can't do that unless I see him."

Sam sighed from the other end. "OK. I'll… keep you updated on where we are.”

After a flood of profuse thank-yous and Sam's chuckles, the line finally went dead. He had given me a location amongst my gratitude and I was already slinging my backpack over my shoulder.

—

After half a day of travel, the sun was setting and I was thoroughly exhausted. Upon seeing the welcome sign that coaxed me into the small city I stretched my arms high above my head and allowed myself to slow to a steady walking pace.

Oddly enough, my heart felt heavy, like something severe was weighing on me. It was... an odd sensation that I hadn't felt in a very long time - not since my parents were still with me. Oddly enough, it was less of a weighing feeling and more of a tug. The tug itself was heavy, and it felt like it was pulling on a part of me that I didn't want to be released.

Something didn’t feel right.

I hummed and frowned slightly, my eyebrows creasing with worry. Maybe it was a mistake to come looking for the Winchesters before the pack? I had half a mind to turn back, but... I still didn't feel ready. If Sam and Dean were afraid of what I had done, how would my pack feel? They depended on the stability and different lifestyle my home provided. I kicked the occasional large stone out of my way as I traipsed down the road, headed toward whatever lay at the end of it. Hopefully a warm bed.

After another thirty minutes of walking, something I grumbled about to myself, I finally spotted dim lights behind a row of thick pine trees. My ears pricked at the sound of the engines roaring to life in the early night, something that oddly warmed my heart and made me want to prance. It wasn't long after that the stench of alcohol hit my nose.

The bar was a brick building on the edge of town, a neon sign glowing above the door and the building itself set into the corner of the block. The occasional car or motorcycle was parked out front. I smiled and brushed my hand affectionately over the front of an older motorcycle – I had always wanted to learn how to ride them. I wondered what it felt like to be on something so small, barrelling down a highway faster than I could run.

My eyes rose, scanning the line of cars until they settled on a sleek older model across the street. My eyes widened and a grin tore across my face. It was the Impala.

I whirled toward the door so fast that I nearly fell over, tripping over my own feet like a stumbling drunk. My senses dulled as the stench of alcohol hit my nose once again. The harsh smell practically threw me off my feet and made my eyes water. I couldn't place any other scent amongst the heavy, bourbon-filled air and that alone sunk anxious claws into my lungs, oxygen being stolen from them.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, grounding myself. The overwhelming scents and smells were driving my wolfish senses crazy, as they still hadn't calmed from my last escapade with the brothers. It had been weeks since I was in a room with this many people. I felt small and large at the same time. Small with worry and nerves. Large with fearsome hunger.

I rolled my shoulders and took a few more deep breaths, sifting through the heavily masked scents. My eyes flew open as a familiar scent hit my nose and I struggled to keep the rising gold color down.

Cherries.

I pushed my way through the crowd of drunkards and bikers. It was exactly the kind of scene Dean liked. Loud enough to quiet his own raging thoughts. Dark enough to dull the headache behind his eyes. Music he could get lost in, and a drink that burned just right.

"Hey," I spoke cautiously as I sat beside him and rested my forearms on the bar counter. Dean spared me a glance from the corner of his green eye and suddenly jumped. He did a double take out of shock and turned to me with wide eyes and parted lips. As suddenly as his surprise had come, it was gone and darkened with spite.

"What do you want?" he growled and took a long sip from his whiskey glass, failing to hide his frown.

I frowned, my brows knitted with frustration. I could already tell this wasn't going to be a good conversation. "I came to apologize."

Dean scoffed and tightened his grip on his glass. "Apologize for what? Abandoning us without a word?" he exhaled and glared at me. "That's not something I'll accept an apology for, sweetheart." I bristled. Although most of his nicknames were endearing, this one was spat out like it burned him.

"I had my reasons, Dean. You know I wouldn't leave without a good one-"

"Do I know that?" he snarled, spinning his stool to face me. "Cause it seems like you don't give a damn about Sam or me, or how we felt." I winced and opened my mouth to speak. He shushed me with a raised finger. "So what's your excuse? You got tired of us holding you back from going apeshit?"

Ow. I glowered at him. "You know I would never do that."

"Yeah? You seemed pretty content when you had your teeth sunk into Jared Bender's heart." I winced again, my glare cracking. "You didn't even know his name, did you?"

"He was trying to kill Sam," I growled, trying to justify my actions. "You would have done the same."

"Damn right I would have killed him. I would have shot his ass dead, would’ve been dead before he hit the dirt. But I certainly wouldn't have torn him apart and strung his organs around the room!" he growled between his teeth. He tried to keep his voice low, despite the uninterested roar of the bar occupants.

I balled my fists in my lap and glared at him as he twisted to face me. His jaw was set sternly, lips pressed into a thin line. It was the same look he gave Sam when the two argued. “You’re a hypocrite.” My tone caused my words to lose their bite.

"I'm a hypocrite? You fucking killed and nearly ate a man, and now you're trying to justify it to me!" he snapped, one corner of his mouth drawn up in a sneer. "You left Sam and me without a word! And now you're crawling back here to apologize and call me a hypocrite?"

My blood was boiling and once more my senses were raging. I couldn't quite grasp it, but it almost felt like a separation inside me, one side longing to beg for forgiveness and the other itching to sink its fangs into Dean's neck. I inhaled deeply and closed my eyes, struggling to ground myself again.

Maybe a few months as friends wasn’t enough to convince him I wasn’t worth the trouble. Maybe he should’ve aimed for the head when we first met.

Without missing a beat I snapped back at him. "Quit acting like a girl whose prom date stood her up. I had my reasons and if you'll shut up for a few minutes, I'll tell you what was going through my head," I exhaled shakily and glared, steeling myself for his own reproachful response. "I left to protect you, to protect Sam, and to protect everyone around you. I wasn't stable – you know that, you saw it. So stop talking like a self-righteous prick."

Despite the quick tongue-lashing, I still didn't feel better. I hadn't said half of what I wanted to. If I could have given Dean a glimpse inside my thoughts, I would have in a heartbeat.

His frown remained stalwart on his features, furrowed brows unyielding. His viridescent eyes surveyed my own with contempt and barely contained anger, an emotion I mirrored. Eventually, his gaze reluctantly dropped back to the beer I had passed him, which he took a swig of. I felt a small victory until he spoke up.

"Get out," he grumbled.

"What?" I demanded with equal, if not more, frustration.

"Get out," he ordered more firmly this time with rage coating his words. I blinked in confusion – not just at his harsh words, but at the gripping pain in my chest and the harsh scratching, I felt in the back of my mind, like something fighting to escape. It struck me that Dean was really, truly angry with me for leaving, despite my reasoning – and from what I knew of him, he wasn't just going to forgive and forget.

He swore under his breath and whipped his head toward me, eyes raging with rage and, to my amazement, pain. "Are you deaf?" he snarled lowly, "I don't want to hear your excuses. Fuck off." He gripped his beer tightly and guzzled it then slammed it onto the counter.

Wrath hit me like a semi-truck, and that familiar clawing sensation I kept hidden in the back of my thoughts lunged forward. Those nagging thoughts took the form of my wolf, black fur ruffled and fangs bared in anger.

Whatever wolfish instincts I had let escape were now clawing to take control. For the first time in a long time, I felt like two beings at once. As I had surmised earlier, I had the very human side that wanted nothing more than to avoid conflict, that just wanted to apologize to Dean and work things out. But my monster side...

I gulped and glared viciously at Dean.

I felt a rumble low in my chest, a familiar rumble that I had last felt with my father. My wolf wanted me to tear into Dean, a human that we had somehow bound to our pack. Now this pup was blatantly challenging me, as she put it. She snarled at him and I resisted the urge to follow suit.

She was pacing in my mind, stalking back and forth, her molten eyes fixated on Dean. My own eyes faded to match the warm gold of hers, whiskey-colored in the faded glow of the bar lights.

I hadn't even realized just how much I was shaking. My wolf wanted out, wanted to shred him for his disloyalty. It was an odd feeling to be separated from a piece of myself, although the more I focused on her, the more I realized that we had been separated for a long time. For years, I lacked the fluid mobility between myself and my instinct, not the mobility that I once had. I hadn't had it since I was fifteen. It felt like I was holding back a tidal wave of torrential emotions, a painful instinct that wanted me to embrace the monster I was and chow on some hearts. Not Dean though. She wanted him back in his place as my... pack member? Was that what she- I viewed him as?

Dean swore again, finally breaking eye contact. He reached for his beer with a shaky hand and took another final swig before wiping his mouth and standing. "Fuck this," he grumbled, "I'm out."

He hadn't even made it three steps before something in me snapped and I snarled. "Sit your ass down before I sink my teeth into you and drag you back."

Dean whirled on me, chest heaving with fury. I turned my blazing golden eyes on him, slowly, with my mouth set into a firm line and eyebrows slightly drawn together. It struck me that this was the same look my mother had given my father when she was pissed as all hell, a look that clearly said he needed to shut up if he wanted to keep his testicles intact.

Like my father, Dean responded with a slack jaw, opening and closing his mouth in surprise and confusion. His resolve, although still strong, was withering.

 I nodded toward his vacated stool. He sat and shot me an angry glance, trying (and failing) to mask his nerves.

I took a deep breath in an attempt to calm my nerves. I stretched my fingers, feeling my joints pop after being balled into tight fists for god know how long. With a sigh, I locked eyes with Dean once more, his narrowed and wary.

"You know full well I had to leave, Dean." I snapped. "If I hadn't left, I guarantee you would have eventually sent me home, thinking my pack could help. Don't act pissy with me for doing what I felt was right."

Dean glowered and his nostrils flared. "Having a reason doesn't change that fact that you left without a word-"

"- If I had told you I was leaving, would you have asked me to stay?"

"Of course, I would have!" he hissed and leaned forward. "Whether you like it or not, you're part of this family now. I'm not going to just let my family walk out on me like that."

"That's the problem, Dean!" I argued. "I know that, if you had asked, I would have stayed! Sam wouldn't have asked, he would accept my decision and move past it, because he’s made that decision before for himself! You though, you would have gotten so caught up in your familial ideas that I wouldn't have been able to leave!"

"What's so wrong about staying with us!? About staying with me!?" he shouted back, a snarl set on his features. My eyes widened and he followed suit, realizing just what he had said.

"Dean, I had to leave," I uttered quietly. "For the second time in my life, I royally fucked up. I needed- need to get back on the same page. You know that feeling better than most."

"Why are you risking it?" he grumbled. I smiled weakly.

"Because you're my family too, Dean. Whether you like it or not, you're part of my pack now. You're family," I answered quietly. His own eyes softened. "Are you still mad at me?" I inquired with a nervous smile.

"Hell yeah, I'm still mad," he grunted. "But yeah... I get it. Wish I didn't, it would make staying mad at you a hell of a lot easier."

My nervous smile grew to a true grin, the gold fading from my eyes. My wolf scoffed and sat back on her haunches, melting into the background of my thoughts.

My human side had won yet again.

"Don't think you're off the hook," Dean huffed and stood from his stool. "You've got a lot of work to do to make it up to me, Scooby."

"Would pie be a good first step?" I teased, standing up with him.

His expression softened slightly. The harsh lines of his scowl faded and the corners of his mouth dipped down in a frown. His brows pinched inward, hiding slight surprise. “It’s a start.”

—

Unlike his brother, Sam was happy to see me. I practically threw myself at him when I saw him in the motel room. Dean sulked and ate his pie while Sam and I caught up, discussing hunts and my own journey.

"Wait, so what do you mean you can't change shape?" Sam said, raising a forkful of pie to his mouth. "Isn't that, like, literally part of being... you?"

"Kind of," I uttered through my own forkful. "It's a mental barrier. Sometimes I can get it… close, sometimes I can't. The times that I can take multiple tries and usually it's kind of painful. Hurts my joints."

"What kind of mental barrier? Like a trauma barrier or you just don't want to?"

I huffed and reached for another bite of my slice. "I don't know. It's... it's like my mind knows I won't always be able to control what I do in that form. It's like a piece of me is trying to keep that instinctive part of me tied down."

I heard a snort from behind me and spun to face Dean, who was sitting at a little table under the window next to the door. "Why're you talking like it's two separate people? It's still you, right?"

I exhaled softly, choosing my words carefully when I spoke up. "Yeah, it's still me, but it's a side of me that I'm not very... in touch with. I haven't been in a long time."

"So your wolf is that instinctive part of you that you're keeping 'tied down'?" Sam inquired. I nodded.

"I think so. And she's been a lot rowdier since Minnesota. Over the years I've just... made a habit of keeping her chained down so that I don't have any screw-ups."

"And yet," snapped Dean, "you still didn't have a strong enough grip on her." He shoved a large bite of pie into his mouth and chewed, his jaw tensing. I practically wilted and stared down at my feet that were stretched out in front of me. His opinion on the matter had changed so drastically since before I left.

"Dean!" Sam hissed. "I know you're pissed, but you don't need to be an ass-"

"It's fine, Sam," I uttered. "He's not wrong." I huffed and brushed a hair out of my face. "I know it's not an excuse but... when my pack is involved, I just lose control. I'm going to keep working on it," I sighed. "I've never had a pack before – never wanted one – so, it's all so new to me. And now I have to worry about six skinwalkers and two humans that have somehow wormed their way into my family-" Dean winced. "- I've got to worry about my self-control and make sure I don't kill anyone, I have to figure out these damn whispers, and-"

"Hold up," said Sam, throwing up a halting hand. "What whispers?"

I paled. I hadn't meant to let that slip out. I didn't want the brothers to worry about whatever weird-ass whispers I had been hearing - I knew that they'd get fixated on figuring it out and potentially killing whatever it was. They didn't have the time or resources to help me with that -- hell, I didn't even know if it was actually a living thing talking to me. For all I knew, some celestial entity was trying to give me advice. At worst, I was going nuts.

"I- uh," I stuttered over my words. I jumped as Dean stood, tossing his paper plate in a trash can and sitting on the bed beside Sam. I refused to turn to him and continued staring at my feet and my place on the floor. "I've just been hearing these weird whispers. It's nothing too crazy-"

"Whispers are pretty frickin’ crazy,” Dean remarked firmly. I frowned. "Keep talking."

"There's not much to tell, Dean," I snapped, twisting to face him with a scowl. "I just hear this whisper. When I try to follow it, it... it shows me things."

"It shows you things?" Sam asked, wrinkling his nose in confusion.

"Yeah," I sighed. "Like, I was chasing it when I met Marcus and Caeden. I just... followed the whisper and it led me to them. And with Calliope, it was... it wasn't whispering. It was screaming, frantic. It made me frantic. It knew she was in danger and it took me to her."

Dean swore under his breath. "How long have you been hearing these things? What are they saying to you?"

I scrunched my brows in thought. "It's been about three months I think? Maybe a little more?" Dean scoffed.

"And you're only telling us about this now?"

"Well, what was I supposed to say!?" I snarled back. "'Oh hey Dean, just wanted to let you know that I might be going a bit crazy, cause this voice I know literally nothing about it talking to me'!?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air. "That is exactly what you tell us! And then we help you figure out whatever the hell it is and maybe kill it!"

I huffed and turned away from him, crossing my arms over my chest. "I don't think it needs to be killed."

"What?" Dean growled and leaned forward, "What if it leads you into danger huh? What if it drags you into something you can't handle!?"

I whipped around to glare at him. "Would you even care, Dean? Last I checked, you didn't want me around anyway."

"Guys," Sam silenced us with a warning tone, snapping out of his deep thoughts. "Quit going at each other's throats, it's pointless."

"She wouldn't go for the throat, Sammy," Dean growled, balling his hands into fists, "She'd go for the heart."

"If you don't shut the hell up I will beat the shit out of you," I hissed back.

"I'd like to see you try," he snapped back.

"Would you two just shut up!" Sam snapped and glared at the both of us like he was ready to maim. "We've got bigger problems than you dumbasses not getting along." Dean and I fell silent, dropping our harsh gazes from one another and onto the floor. I could practically feel Dean's blood boiling - he was seething. I was too. I hated the way he was talking to me, treating me. Sam placed his hands on his face, dragging them down languorously, and sighed out of frustration. I perked up as he said my name. "What are the whispers saying to you?"

I hummed in thought. "Things like 'come', mostly," Dean snorted and I glared at him. "Last time it said 'see' and 'go'. Pretty much as soon as I realized something was wrong it changed what it was saying."

"Is it always only one word?"

"Yeah, one word at a time. Usually, there's a long pause and then it says something else. Last time... last time it was screaming so loud that it felt like it was clawing inside my skull," I mused for a second, mulling it over. "Pretty much every other time it's been like an existential thing like I was chasing someone just ahead of me. That time it felt like it was... pushing me, almost. Like it was urging me forward instead of urging me to chase."

Sam ruminated for a few moments, looking puzzled. Finally, he turned to Dean and muttered, "What do you think? Have you seen anything like that in dad's journal?"

Dean shook his head and fiddled with the odd-looking charm hanging around his neck. "No, I haven't. Honestly, sounds like a possession of some sort," his words faded into deep thought. His eyes rose to meet mine. "Can skinwalkers even get possessed?"

"Not that I know of. To my knowledge, you have to have a soul to get possessed."

Sam's eyes widened and he leaned forward with interest. "You don't have a soul?"

I shook my head. "Don’t think so. My dad told me it's why we don't go to heaven or hell when we die."

Dean quirked a brow. "Then where do you go? And how did he know?"

I shrugged. "For all I know there's nothing after death for monsters. It's just... over..." my shoulders slumped. I had always hoped that my father was wrong, that maybe there was something, anything after death. I didn't want it to just be over.

"Well, if it's not possession," Dean grumbled and leaned back on his hands, "maybe it's a demon?"

"Dean, why would a demon be talking to her?" Sam countered. "It's not like she can sell her soul."

I frowned. "What if it's not anything bad? What if it's, like, her? Instinct? Maybe I just subconsciously know when something is wrong with the pack?"

"No," Sam stated. "It can't be that. You said it led you to Marcus and Caeden? They weren't part of your pack at the time. Unless your instinct latches on to potential pack members nearby, I don't think that's it."

“Well if it were that, it would have led me to Sasha, Booth, and Andrew long before you guys rolled into town.”

“Unless they were the catalyst that sent your… pack honing abilities into overdrive?” Dean offered. 

"Whatever the reason is for it talking to me-" I started, referring back to Sam's previous statement, "- as long as the thing stays out of my way, I don't care what it says or leads me to."

Sam chuckled. "Fair enough. We can figure out our game plan for dealing with this thing later." The younger brother yawned, covering his mouth with his hand.

"We?" I questioned teasingly. "I don't remember agreeing to that."

Dean huffed and stood from Sam's bed and marched toward his own. He flopped onto the bed, landing on his back and locking his eyes with the ceiling. "Damn right this is a 'we' operation. No way in hell are we letting you figure this out on your own."

I chuckled dryly. “Doesn’t sound like you’re mad at me anymore.”

He scoffed. "Sure, soon we'll be frolicking in a meadow full of flowers together."

Sam chuckled with me as he rummaged through his bag, hunting for a toothbrush within it and setting out a set of clothes for the following day. "Alright, you two," he said, "we've got a hunt tomorrow, so enough talking."

I quirked a brow, my grin falling away. "We've got a hunt?"

Sam nodded and hummed in response. "Murder in Chicago."

I barked out a laugh. "Yeah, like that's uncommon for Chicago." A rustling caught my attention and I turned to see Dean rummaging through his own luggage.

Sam smirked down at his bag and turned to face me, toothbrush in hand. "This is the second one in two months. Two people found dead in their apartments, no sign of forced entry."

My brows rose in surprise. "Spirit maybe?"

Dean huffed. "We were thinking a cursed object. No way a spirit could move between houses like that." I nodded in agreement. I wasn't exactly knowledgeable on all the spiritual aspects of the supernatural world – ask me anything about certain monsters, and I could answer more than most hunters. But ghosts, psychics, witches... those were all foreign. Hell, I had only heard stories about psychics before meeting Missouri Moseley.

"We'll find out what it is soon," interjected Sam, always the mother of the group. "Just get to sleep - especially you, Dean, since you'll be driving tomorrow."

Dean grumbled something under his breath and flopped back onto his bed, crossing his arms over his chest and closing his eyes. I grinned and made my way toward a rather large armchair in the corner of the room. I dragged a cushion off the chair and motioned for Sam to toss me a pillow. To my delight, he tossed two and a heavy blanket that had been folded and lain across the end of the bed.

After putting together my relatively comfortable nest, Sam turned out the light and the sound of peaceful snores filled the room.

—

The Impala rolled to a halt on the side of the packed road and Dean expertly parked against the curb. Sam sighed and ruffled his hair, scanning the newspaper seated in his lap.

I leaned forward and gazed out the front window at the apartment building before us. The room was somewhere on the third floor. I fiddled with the hem of my costume and followed the brothers out of the car, my eyes following Dean as he moved toward the trunk and withdrew a toolbox. He had hardly said anything to me since the night I got back. The most he would do is give me the necessary information for the case or give me a clipped answer to a question.

I missed bantering with him. I didn't like this odd silent treatment I was receiving from him. It put me in a bad mood every time he gave me a brief answer or even none at all. I wanted nothing more than to scream at him to get over himself and just forgive me already.

"You know," Dean started as he paced down the sidewalk toward where Sam and I were standing, "I've gotta say, dad and me did just fine without these stupid costumes. I feel like a high school drama dork." He grinned and swung his toolbox lazily at his side. "What was that play you did?" he asked Sam, a smirk dawning on his features. He stumbled for a moment, struggling to remember the name. "What was it - ‘Our Town’? Yeah, you were good, it was cute."

Sam scoffed and a blush tinged his ears and cheeks. I chuckled, punching him teasingly in the shoulder. "You never told me you were in a play, Sam."

He chuckled nervously and turned his head to me. "It was a long time ago, and I really didn't have a big part. I was a background character."

"Main character in my heart," Dean teased. Sam rolled his eyes.

"But honestly, Dean. This getup helps us look the part. Do you want to pull this off or not?" Sam quickly changed the subject.

"I'm just saying, these outfits cost hard-earned money."

"Whose?" I countered and glared teasingly.

"Ours. You think credit card fraud is easy?"

It didn't take us long to reach the third floor and the door of the victim. The landlady grumbled and fumbled with the keys before pushing the white door open to let us in.

"Thanks for letting us look around," Sam said to her politely. Dean and I paced around the hallway, him fumbling with the alarm system while I checked for any signs of forced entry on the door.

"Well, the police said they were done with the place, so..." she trailed off and sauntered into the room with Sam close behind. I shut the door and quirked an eyebrow at the severed chain lock. I caught Dean's attention and nodded toward it, holding the two ends of the golden chain delicately. Dean frowned and turned to follow the landlady and his brother. "You said you're with the alarm company, right?" the older woman asked and spun to face the brothers.

"That's right," answered Dean, flashing his most sincere smile. It looked more like a grimace, in all honesty. He really wasn't that good at the acting part of this job.

The woman huffed wearily in response. "Well, no offense, but your alarm's about as useful as boobs on a man." I choked down laughter and covered my mouth with a hand. She leaned around the boys to cast me a sly grin.

Dean cleared his throat and flashed his own tentative grin. "Well, that's why we're here. To make sure it never happens again." The woman nodded and stepped aside to allow us to peruse the apartment.

"You found the body, right?" I asked, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. She nodded and swallowed dryly. "Were there any signs of a forced entry?"

"Any windows open?" Sam asked. "Was the alarm still active?"

"Windows were locked, front door was bolted. We had to cut the chain to get in here," she grouched in response. Dean frowned – that chain was the only lead we had. We were back to square one.

"Did you find her right after it happened?" Dean asked, referencing the girl who had been killed. The landlady shook her head.

"No, a few days later. Her work called and said they hadn't seen her in a while. I knocked on her door. That's when I noticed... the smell," she wrinkled her nose in disgust at the memory.

"And what condition was she in?" Dean pressed. The landlady huffed and glared at him.

"Meredith was all over the place, in pieces. I tell you, the guy who did it must have been a whack job. If I didn't know any better, I would have said it was an animal attack." The brothers looked first at each other and then Sam's eyes met mine. My brows furrowed. What could possibly have shredded her like that?

Sam's eyes flitted toward the woman. "Ma'am, do you mind if we take some time and give this place a once over?"

The landlady shrugged in response. "Go right ahead, knock yourself out." My eyes followed her as she walked out of the apartment, waiting for the door to latch before giving the go-ahead to speak.

"So a killer walks in and out of the apartment, no weapons, no prints, nothing..." Dean grumbled, trailing off as he rifled through his toolbox. I hummed quietly in response.

"There's got to be a trace of something here, some sort of clue. There's no way something could have killed her and not left a trail," I said, tracing a few fingers lazily over the large spots of blood.

"I'm telling you, the minute I saw the article I knew this was our kind of gig," Sam said, inspecting the windows. He jumped when Dean's EMF meter went off.

"I think I agree with you," Dean answered as he held up the box to show off the number of lights indicating supernatural presence.

"Did you ever talk to the cops yesterday?" I asked him.

Dean nodded and stood from his crouch position on the once white carpet. "Oh, yeah," he said, smirking. "I talked to Amy, a, uh, charming, perky officer of the law." I rolled my eyes.

"What'd you find out?" Sam pressed. I flashed him a quick glare which he looked rather confused by.

"Well, she's a Sagittarius, loves tequila - I mean, wow," Dean sighed almost wistfully, "Oh! And she's got this little tattoo-"

"Jesus, Dean!" I snapped. "Not about your hook-up, about the case!"

Dean grumbled something I didn't catch. I glared at the back of his head, almost wishing I could bore holes into it. "Nothing we don't already know," he carped. "Except for one thing they're keeping out of the papers."

"Enough with the suspense, Dean," I said. At this point, I just wanted this case to be over. I already was not a fan of Chicago.

"You're no fun," he sighed. "Meredith's heart was missing."

Sam and I both jumped to attention, whirling on Dean with twin, wide-eyed stares.

"Her heart? What do you think did it to her?" Sam inquired.

"Landlady said it looked like an animal attack. Maybe a werewolf?"

I barked out a laugh. "No way it was a werewolf. Moon cycle isn't right, and even if it was, I'd smell it. They reek, like the worst combination of rotten meat and cigarettes." I scrunched my nose at the thought. "My money's on a spirit. If it was a monster, I guarantee they would have left some trace other than blood."

"Yeah..." Dean mused thoughtfully. His eyes scanned the patches of blood, drawing a pattern in his mind. "Sammy, see if you can find a roll of tape."

Sam dug through his brother's toolbox as I went to stand beside Dean. "Notice something?"

"Maybe," he offered, holding his hands up to catch the roll of tape Sam had tossed his way. "We'll see in just a minute."

Dean got to work, connecting the patches of blood in a pattern I had never seen before. Hell, I wouldn't have even thought it would make a pattern like that. I chuckled morbidly, thinking that whatever killed Meredith must have been some sort of abstract artist - first the body, now the blood.

Dean stood and surveyed his work, crossing his arms. Sam moved to stand beside him, a puzzled look on his features.

"You ever seen a symbol like that?" Sam inquired, eyes following the sharp corners of the z-like symbol.

"Never," Dean responded curtly.

"Me neither."

—

"He could at least be helping us, Sam," I grumbled, flipping through the worn pages of their father's journal. "Instead of off doing- whatever it is with that poor bartender."

Sam snickered. "He is helping. Meredith worked here, so the bartenders are bound to know her."

"There's a distinct difference between helping us with the case and flirting with some painted bimbo, who we all know he is never going to call," I muttered, resting my chin in the palm of my hand as my eyes lazily scanned the page.

Sam opened his mouth to retort and quickly shut it, seeing Dean make his way back over. My gaze moved quickly toward him and fell right back to the paper. Honestly, the journal was a hell of a lot more interesting than anything Dean had to say.

John was incredibly thorough – he rivaled my uncle, who had always been compulsive and meticulous about his case notes. The journal might look like a mess of pages and hastily scrawled notations, but to me, it showed his dedication.

I flipped another page slowly, tuning out the brothers' conversation. My finger dragged along each line of writing with my eye following closely behind. My eyes fell on a string of numbers and my finger stopped its movement. I exhaled shakily.

I knew those numbers.

"Hey, Sam!" Dean called out, a tight grip on his beer. "Where are you going?"

I lifted my head, staring with a glazed look after Sam as he marched away from the table. Dean turned his confused eyes on me before standing and following his brother.

I looked back at the page, my finger running haphazardly over the string of digits. Why would John have his number..? I tightened my jaw and marked the page so I could find it later and shut the little book, tucking it under my arm and following the brothers. My eyes widened as I noticed Sam talking to a blonde girl, giving her a tense hug. My ears tuned in to their conversation as I stalked up behind Dean.

"Anyway, the whole scene got old, so I'm living here for a while," the girl said, fluttering her lashes at Sam. I took a deep breath, ready to interject, and coughed, gagging on air. God, this girl was drenched in perfume, it was blocking all of my other senses.

Dean cleared his throat and patted me lightly on the back. I brushed his hand away and took shallow breaths.

"You're from Chicago?" Sam asked.

"No, Massachusetts – Andover," the girl said with a giggle. "Gosh, Sam, what are the odds we'd run into each other?"

"Yeah, I know, I thought I'd never see you again." Although his back was turned to me, I could tell he was puzzled. It must have been written all over his features.

"Well, I'm glad you were wrong..." she trailed off and gazed up at Sam from under her lashes. I rolled my eyes. Dean cleared his throat and the girl's eyes snapped to his, a disgusted glare rising on her features. "Dude, cover your mouth."

Dean looked shocked and I suppressed a laugh, for fear of inhaling more of her sharp perfume. God, the girl must have bathed in the stuff. Did the boys really not smell it?

"Yeah, um, I'm sorry, Meg. This is, uh—this is my brother, Dean," Sam said, scratching the back of his head. The girl, Meg, looked surprised.

"Oh! This is Dean?" she confirmed. Sam nodded and Dean smirked at her.

"So you've heard of me," Dean mused, attempting to be smooth. Now it was Meg's turn to roll her eyes.

"Yeah, I've heard of you," she snapped. "Real nice, how you treat your brother like luggage." Dean’s eyes widened and I stared at Meg in shock. When did Sam even have time to meet this girl without Dean knowing? "Why don't you let him do what he wants?" she continued, spite lacing her words. "Quit dragging him all over God's green earth-"

Sam held up his hands in a silent plea to make her stop. "Meg, it's fine, really, we're fine." The three of them stood there awkwardly, Meg surveying the two, glaring at Dean with contempt and at Sam with an almost overprotective gaze. Her eyes skirted over me, likely because I hadn't been introduced.

I cleared my throat. "I'm, uh- I'm going to get a drink. You want to come with me, Dean?"

"Yeah- yeah," he said, already moving toward the bar. I flashed a sheepish grin toward Sam and Meg, waving goodbye and running to catch up with the elder Winchester. "Damn, that was awkward."

I sat on one of the bar stools, placing John's journal on the counter and running a finger over the spine. "So... when did she and Sam first meet."

Dean scoffed. "Probably after our first real hunt with you, in Kansas. He and I got into a spat and he left for a few days."

I glared at him, clenching my fist and resting it on the counter. "And you didn't think to tell me?"

"Well, we weren't exactly super close then. It was kind of a family matter, not something for you to stick your snout into."

"You are family, Dean," I hissed. "I have a right to know when these things happen."

He frowned and rested his hands on his lap. We sat in silence for a few minutes, long enough for Dean to get another beer from the bartender and have about a third of it.

"Listen, I-" he started. I cut him off, flipping open his father's journal to my marked page.

"Dean, I found something in the journal earlier, when you first came back to the table." He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something and shut it when I cast him a warning glare. Whatever he wanted to say, I really wasn't in the mood for it. He looked toward his lap bashfully and then his eyes rose to face mine, his jaw tightening.

"Anything relevant to the case?" he asked.

"No," I answered quickly. "But look at this," I slid the journal toward him, highlighting the phone number at the bottom of the page. His eyes flickered toward mine and he raised a brow in confusion. "I recognize this number, Dean. It's-"

"Hey!" called Sam, sauntering back toward us with his cell phone in hand. "You guys ready to head out."

Dean turned to face me, a promise being held in his green eyes. "We'll get back to this later." He stood abruptly, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair and following Sam toward the door.

I groaned and dropped my head dramatically on the open journal. "Sure we will..." I muttered to myself. I stood, slamming the journal shut a little more roughly than I intended, and followed the brothers out the door.

"No, man, I mean like our kind of strange," I heard Sam say as I rushed to catch up with the brothers. "Like, maybe even a lead."

"What makes you say that?" Dean probed, sparing me a glance as I jogged up to him.

"I met Meg weeks ago, literally on the side of the road. And now, I run into her in some random Chicago bar? I mean, the same bar where a waitress was slaughtered by something supernatural? You don't think that's a little weird?"

Oh. They were still talking about her.

"I don't know," Dean said with a dramatic sigh. "Random coincidence? It happens."

"Yeah, it happens, but not to us. Look, I could be wrong-"

"Dean," I interrupted Sam. "I think maybe Sam's right. There's something off about her. I mean, did you not smell the buckets of perfume on her? Had me gagging within ten feet of her."

"Perfume doesn't make someone a murder suspect," Dean countered.

"It does if it causes me to choke and die."

"Well, then it's a good thing you're not dead, right?"

"-I'm just saying that there's something about this girl that I can't quite put my finger on," Sam added to his unfinished sentence.

"I bet you'd like to. I mean, maybe she's not a suspect, maybe you've got a thing for her, huh?" he chuckled and nudged Sam with his shoulder. "Maybe you're thinkin' a little too much with your upstairs brain, huh?"

Sam rolled his eyes as we stopped on the side of the road, waiting for the go-ahead to walk. "Do me a favor. Check and see if there's really a Meg Masters from Andover, Massachusetts, and see if you can't dig anything up on that symbol on Meredith's floor." Sam marched away from Dean and I before his brother could protest.

"What are you going to do?" Dean asked as he ran to catch up.

"I'm going to watch Meg."

Dean laughed and clapped Sam on the back. "Yeah, you are!"

Sam grimaced and shrugged Dean's hand off his shoulder. "I just want to see what's what. Better safe than sorry."

The two bickered, Dean teasing Sam, and Sam arguing. I stopped on the sidewalk, watching the brothers make their way toward the Impala, Sam fishing the keys out of his pocket.

I glanced down at the heavy, leather-bound journal in my hands. Something about this case didn't add up. First the weird symbol, and now Meg showing up? Something was wrong, I could feel it. She was hiding something.

Dean called my name from his spot beside the passenger door and I perked up immediately. "You coming or not?"

I nodded and shoved the journal under my arm and crossed the street to where the boys were waiting.

[protege-not-protagonist]

Finally getting around to mailing this letter

Dear Reid,

As you are a guy who never or rarely sleeps, I would love to know your morning routine. Do you have one or just accept the fate that it’s morning and carry on?

- <3 a concerned “normal” fan

Hello dear Bridgeoverstrawberryfields,

Firstly, I am delighted to have a "Normal" fan. Usually I am a firm believer in the notion that no one is normal, but I understand that you are saying it with the intention of distinguishing yourself from "fans" I've had in the past. The declaration is much appreaciated. Especially considering that you are asking about my routine. Which, as you probably know, being a fan of mine: showing interest in another person's routine can be associated with stalking. But you seem genuinely interested and concerned for my well being, so I will reassure you that I am doing well.

You seem concerned that I am not getting enough sleep and I can understand why you may think that. As you may know, my sleep is heavily affected when I experience high levels of stress and emotional distress. Even on a good day I would never call myself a morning person, but the type of insomnia I experience (Acute Maintenance Insomnia, if you like specifics,) means I don't find much relief in staying asleep longer. Sometimes I'd rather face the day.

But I am happy to report I do experience that less of late. It is actually rare that I don't sleep. I prioritise it, because of my predispositions to certain neurological conditions. Repeat lack of sleep puts me at a higher risk of developing these. But also sleep is essential for brain function, and I in particular, need my brain to be at its best. Believe it or not, studies have shown it is actually just as bad to drive drunk as it is to drive tired. Not that you should do either. I am just using that to support my point, that it is important to me. I am dedicated to my sleep hygiene and I try my best to get the recommend 8 to 7 hours. But this was not always the case.

Also to add to that, I really prefer to stick to routines. I actually admire people who can just be spontaneous with their mornings and can adapt to each day as it comes. But for me, trying to keep things consistent feels more comfortable. With my job back at the BAU sometimes I couldn't stick to my routine, or now, sometimes I just have off days. These are days that as you so eloquently put, I have to accept fate that's is morning and carry on, incorporating as many elements of my ideal morning routine as I can.

So without further preamble, here is my 'ideal' Morning routine:

Wake up before 7 am, preferably (more like rarely,) at 6:00 am, but I will admit this is harder to do in winter.

Light stretch, this has been proven to help wake up the body, but also help the brain to forget any bad dreams had during the night by engaging it in movement rather than retention and filing of memory

I like to get changed into clothes before breakfast. Again, the change of clothes further helps the brain by signalling that sleep is over because the sleep clothes are off and the day wear clothes are on. Also this is when I put on my socks. I choose them randomly. I think of my socks draw as a daily lucky dip.

I brew my coffee. I did go through a stage of trying to limit my caffeine intake and drink herbal teas, but benefits of not having caffeine were outweighed by the discomfort and utter misery not having a morning cup. And actually there's plenty of benefits to having 1 or 2 cups a day. Sometimes I do have tea, but only if Garcia makes it. I don't know, what she does that I don't, but I can certainly taste it.

I make a light breakfast, this is usually toast or a plain cereal. I'm not much of a breakfast person unless I am eating out with friends, ( I will have pancakes if that's the case.)

I also grab a glass of water to have along with my breakfast and coffee. This keeps me hydrated (because I forget to drink water, a lot.) and helps me take my vitamins as well.

I take supplements proven to be beneficial to people like me. I take magnesium, vitamin B12, vitamin D3, Omega 3, Vitamin C, Echenasia and probiotics (which I know I could get naturally but I hate the mouth feel of yoghurt )

With my coffee, breakfast, water and supplements, I will sit at the table and eat while reading about 4 physical newspapers and then I try to complete the crosswords. People think I'm good at them, but I'm actually not too proficient at it. Although I most likely know the answers in my vocabulary, it takes me a while to get my head around the wording of the clues, they are often quite vague, so I like the challenge.

Afterwards, I wash up and then go back to my room and make my bed then brush my teeth. I use this time as a sort of quiet reflection and run though what I've got to do that day. This is also when I look in the mirror and decide whether or not I should attempt to style my hair. These days I am usually happy how it is.

Before I leave for the day, I do last minute errands like check my fridge and shopping list, if it is an even day, I will water my plants that Garcia gifted me. If it is the end of the week, I will check that the automatic feeder for my fish tank is full so my tetras won't be left to starve if I get called away suddenly.

So there you go, very mundane. But I find being able to do this provides me with a sense of order and domesticity to my life that I didn't always get to enjoy.

-Sincerely yours, Dr Reid

Taglist: @bridgeoverstrawberryfields @cultish-corner @pleasantwitchgarden

Sorry for that being super long but if we are honest Spencer would absolutely write a response this long. As I was writing, he just kept wanting to say more. I let him cook.

[mostowa]

Post Traumatic Ship Disorder

Ok, hear me out. This is going to be a long post.

I am grieving and I will be grieving for several reasons. I am grieving for Lucy. I have been broken up by guys like Tim with a mindset that Lucy's had. And, let me tell you, this s u c k s. I believe, she is left alone with a feeling insufficient, with more questions than answers, just like I was. She is left alone with deep insecuirities and not understanding what's going on. Why the guy that only a few days before confessed he loved her suddenly walks away. Why is he making a choice for her? Why is he acting like a 15 year old high school boy? She is clueless and she is hurt. Lucy has been so badass for the whole series that I don't want her to end up with a guy that doesn't treat her like a partner.

I am grieving for Tim Bradford. Because he acted like a huge dick. He shut down Lucy after being the one saying "Unless it is". And he went through with the promise so well for so long and now he... gave up on the fight? He is just na ass. I'm sorry, but he is. I know he is in pain and I know he is stuck in his mind, but that is not a ticket to hurting people you claim to love. It is not.

I am grievieng for Chenford. After a break up like that I kind of don't want them to get back together. I think there might be way for them to come back, but unless he doesn't work this through and doesn't say he's sorry then it'll feel like she's just weak (SHE IS NOT) and he gets what he wants (and he's never been [written] like that). Tim needs to make up for his mistakes and show consistent support and change and repair his communication style. But, even then, if I were Lucy I wouldn't be so quick to let him back in. He betrayed her on so many levels here. He broke their bond, their mutual trust, their partnership. He just ruined the most important relationship of their lives.

I am grieving for the show. One of the reasons I've found The Rookie so special is how they've treated relationships. Until S6 all of the relationships developed organically and were based on mutual trust and willing to be together. It was refreshing to watch, when the drama came from work and not from stupid personal decisions that ramp up the views. And then they just decided to give that up with Tim and Lucy. When you say you love someone like Chenford did in 6x02 you don't hop off the train on the bump. You stay, you work it through. That's what Wopez did with far worse situation when Wesley acted like a scared gazelle with Elijah. And now they just decided to throw this out of the window, because of "the trope". It is such a dick move. And such a male perspective that they did.

I am grieving for myself. Chenford has been in a way deeply personal for me. It's one of the few ships I've boarded that made sense because they were so good at communicating problems, in what I deeply believe. My husband stole my heart, when he said once "Relationships are not supermarkets, you are not in and out whenever you wish. When I'm in, I'm in all the way". I cried so hard after that because of happiness and relief that I finally found someone like that. And so far I thought Tim and Lucy were a couple like that, too. Despite their problems and communication misfits, they were honestly trying and making it work. But now it feels like another couple on another soap dramedy, I grew up with (all the broken hearts of Grey's Anatomy please connect).

I am grieving, but I am a little bit curious how they are going to resolve this. Now I am sad, I am mad, I am frustrated and I don't trust the process anymore. But the promo for 6x07 looks kind of interesting and I hope that they know something I am not seeing because of how much I am in hurt now.

I guess Gravity brought Tim Bradford down for now. And I can write a very angsty fanfic now, which I love to do.

[egg-emperor]

Only thing I'm gonna say about this but yeah I really don't think IDW should be canon to the games

Before you accuse me of being a meanie hater or something, look at my #IDW Sonic tag on my blog. I've actually praised a lot of the things I enjoy about Eggman in it very heavily. I'd be all for things like that being canon to the games, you know I would love for those badass moments to be things his game self has done! But I will not be seeing it that way when considering the logic because wouldn't make sense due to all the contradictions to the game canon. There's a lot of it undeniably and being a different piece of media, that would be fine- if they didn't try to claim it as game canon universe

I keep seeing people try to argue that Sonic does believe that Eggman can change in the games and lets him get away because of that but there's tons of moments in the games displaying the exact opposite consistently, he can be the first to doubt him turning over a new leaf and be suspicious, and there are times he keeps chasing after him after a defeat or knowingly lets him get hurt. And that's not the same as him being a brutal bloodthirsty killer, people should be allowed to acknowledge this without others acting like they're saying he is lol

Then you have things like IDW Eggman apparently saying that he will "agree to disagree" on his style being evil in the Open Your Heart lyrics reference from Sonic in issue 23, even though he has specifically referred to himself, actions, and creations as evil many times throughout the games. That wouldn't make sense unless they tried to say that he was just being snarky/sarcastic/pretending that he didn't consider what he does evil to rile Sonic up or something. But I'm pretty sure it's not what they were going for, therefore it's a very big contradiction towards who Eggman is and what he believes.

And that's just a couple, there's more that I've seen people cover with all the game canon evidence necessary to support it. It just wouldn't make sense for it to all be canon to the games when considering these things. Plus, it would make it very confusing and people shouldn't need to read comics to learn of entire story events and character introductions that happened only in the comics, then mentioning the events and bringing characters into the games and acting as if everyone has read the comics. My brother who doesn't read the comic for example, has raised this point.

I don't get why the comic needs to be canon one to one in the games. It's completely fine for them to stay separate, it avoids contradictions and the games lacking key moments of the comics, therefore lacking context. I personally don't understand what we'd gain from whole story arcs happening off screen outside of the games somehow having happened in them too. Because you don't even need the comic to be canon to introduce main universe versions of the IDW exclusive characters, just like how they wouldn't need to and shouldn't make the Boom universe canon to the games to put Sticks in it.

So yeah that's my take on it and please keep in mind,

this is NOT an IDW hate post! Just my honest two cents.

[mrs-monaghan]

btw it’s not taekookers who message you. it’s butthurt ex-jikookers who have decided whatever they had in their heads isn’t real and now they’re mad at jikook and they come to jikook blogs to be told they’re wrong because they still want jikook dating to be true so they are looking for you to tell them they’re wrong. that’s why they keep arguing. the only thing they want is attention. if you want them to get really mad don’t answer their asks.

I honestly didn't think of it this way. And I dont understand how one can even stop believing in Jikook in the first place. Not unless u become an anti or some shit. Like there is no reason to stop believing they're a couple.

The biggest reason we believe they're together is EXCLUSIVITY in behaviour (i.e certain things they do to/for each other and each other only) and CONSISTENCY!!!! They have always been consistent no matter what. All these years nothing has changed. Nothing.

JK still stares at Jimin like he hangs the fucking moon.

Jimin still insists on letting us know HE is the closest member to JK. No one else. Him

JK always carrying things for Jimin which BTW is such boyfriend behaviour. Hyung behaviour. Oppa JK 🤭 its the funniest shit. Look at their airport photos and see everyone has these huge ass luggage while Jimin has this tiny bag like bro, where's your shit???

Oh. Thats where

😂🤭

Don't even get me started on satellite and teleport Jikook. Don't get it twisted, they're both guilty of this. JK does it all the time and its obvious. But when JK doesn't go to Jimin, Jimin goes to him. Watch Jimin almost bulldoze Jhope in his rush to leave with JK. 😂

Consistent JK must be next to Jimin at all times. Mans won't even allow Mimi to sleep alone 👀

JK's body automatically facing Jimin no matter what. And u know its legit because even when Jimin is on the other side, JK faces that way (took a pic of my TV forgive me) he hee. But u can see this isn't even their normal line up and JK's body is turned towards where Jimin is.

He literally can't help it. Consistency people. Its been fucking years of the same behaviour just to highlight a few off the top of my head moments. Because we all know there is way way more. So I don't understand how once you believe in Jikook, u can just....stop. it's not possible. Not if you've been paying attention. Which leaves me with only one explanation, they were insecure Jikookers to begin with. See, this is why I can't stand them 😭😭

I'll take your advice anon. It ain't my job to make anyone believe in Jikook. You don't have to. Just enjoy BTS content and go to bed.

[taffywabbit]

I generally agree with most of the things you post about, but that recent reblog just really rubs me the wrong way. I think I understand the frustration's the OP got, but I don't know, it sorta comes across to me as "I just WISH people would've came to this realization in THIS SPECIFIC WAY" which is just...unrealistic? I feel as though it's almost a slap in the face to Bushnell himself, who probably knew exactly why he had to do what he did. He knew a lot of people WOULDN'T pay attention unless someone like him did something. An unfortunate reality, but, one that seems to at the very least worked. It is sad that he had to do such a thing, but at the same time I don't think it's in the right place to blame such people for not coming to this realization beforehand. I feel these people are vindicated for having been able to be drawn to whats happening. HOW they were drawn in really shouldn't...matter? I think there are people far more worthy of criticism and scorn than those whose eyes were opened by something closer to home than our own. And I think it's extremely disrespectful to Bushnell's act to look at the reaction of it and complain that it served as a catalyst for some people when they should've been more aware from the get go. Should they have? Yes. Is it realistic to expect the vast majority of the North American populace to be that aware of whats going on? No. Sadly. It isn't. Which is exactly why Bushnell did what he did.

i didn't really take it that way, i read it more as merely regret that it took this long AND such a blatant, violent display of protest for the reality of the situation to finally reach a lot of people (particularly in light of how much western news media outlets have been trying to keep the specifics and severity out of the public eye). i looked at that post not as any sort of disrespect towards Bushnell's sacrifice, but rather a frustration with how numb people often are to seeing faceless numbers and statistics in connection with tragedies these days. most american/canadian/british/etc news media LOVES to focus on "main characters" - people you can easily put a name and face to and plaster all over the headlines for people to discuss - and until there's someone like that to latch onto, folks are conditioned to feel like it's none of their business and those big numbers are merely an ongoing fact they cannot change.

if Aaron Bushnell's public suicide was the tipping point for someone to take more active interest in the Palestinian struggle, and reconsider the distorted/suppressed information they may have been receiving about it, that's undeniably a positive outcome and it would be wrong to assert otherwise. that was the goal, that was what he set out to accomplish. the risk comes from overemphasizing him as an individual martyr in all of this, at the cost of pushing the direct victims of the genocide out of the spotlight. considering (as far as i'm aware) the OP of that post i reblogged IS Palestinian, has personally lost loved ones to Israel's violence, and has been a consistent and invaluable resource over the past few months for educating people about the context and history of Palestine's struggles, i'm inclined to try not to take their post about this in bad faith. it doesn't really feel like my place to police their tone, frankly.

ultimately i can't speak on OP's behalf and i also can't control whether other people take away the same things i did from that post. but my personal belief is that Aaron Bushnell's act was bold and selfless and it's deeply unfortunate that things have reached a point where he felt it was necessary. i just also believe that he didn't do it to make himself the center of attention. i have no doubt that his status as a white american military serviceman is a factor in why many people are finally taking this as a wake-up call when they ignored all the previous ones, but i also think he understood that himself to some extent, and used that position of privilege (as well as the shock factor of defying what many americans expect from a man wearing their flag on his shoulder) to help ensure the message was heard by demographics of people who otherwise might not listen. to treat his sacrifice as a singular unique act, rather than one in a chain of many, and to give it special attention and fanfare when that energy could instead be turned to those who are still in need of it, feels like it runs directly counter to his goals. i think we should acknowledge and appreciate Bushnell's effort to sway more people in Palestine's favor, but not let it derail the greater conversation too much for those of us who are already engaged in this cause and do not need further convincing. he used his position to reach people, and it's our job to continue the momentum and help make sure those people know what their newly altered perspective should lead them to do. mourn the dead and fight like hell for the living, as they say

[alexenglish]

I remember a few years ago there was a conversation about young parenthood on your blog and I found it really refreshing, especially since it's hard to hear about queer parenting in the first place unless you're actively seeking those stories out. Feel free to ignore, but how did you ever find the courage to navigate life as a queer young parent in an increasingly cis-centric world, and, if I can ask, what have been some unexpected positives about it (or positives you didn't think would happen but happened). (Sorry this is so formal, lol, I don't know whats up with me)

honestly, i have such a strong set of beliefs that i am compelled to parent in a way that is authentic to those beliefs, how i experience the world, and my own identity so it's less about courage and more about me being insufferable and correct and knowing what matters lmao

i do have the immense privilege of an incredible support system. even if the outside world is telling my kiddo that unicorns are for girls and boys shouldn't be sensitive, everyone who has a hand in raising him has a lot of the same fundamentals to teach him from. they either completely understand where i'm coming from when it comes to teaching him certain things/allowing him to express himself in certain ways, firmly believe those things themselves, or are willing to try to understand when it's something important. not having to defend myself to those close to me goes a long way. we are undoubtedly safe and comfortable and, most importantly, consistent. i don't have anyone close to him undermining us and telling him he can't cry or can't wear his hair long or that there are only two genders.

the most unexpected positive for me is talking to other parents who want to do what i do but don't really have a blueprint for it. a lot of people raise their kids like they were raised and parrot a lot of stuff their parents said and don't even realize that it doesn't align with what they actually believe or the values they want to teach their kids! they're just adhering to a script and they don't know they can go off it and make a generational change. i love having casual conversations with parents where i can refute the script and make them kind of light up in epiphany. and it's funny because it's not like i know jack shit either! we're all just learning! but sometimes what i think is obvious isn't to them and when we talk about it, it shifts their perspective. it's fun to be the person that makes them think more deliberately about how they're parenting!

anyway idk parenting is SUPER weird and it's a little bit of a landmine because it's a very sensitive subject for a lot of people, but it's between your family and your little and that's the framework that matters most. the work you're putting in at home. what you believe. what they believe. encouraging them to draw their own conclusions. we've personally done a lot of 'if you like it, that's what matters' work in the last couple of years because the kids at school telling him boys shouldn't like unicorns and he shouldn't paint his nails and pink is stupid, and while we're working on how important it is to deconstruct misogynistic thinking, he also has to has the confidence in himself and his interests outside of what his peers think of them and it's my responsibility to give him that confidence.

uhm honestly i'm not sure if that was the answer you were looking for, but thanks for asking. i really love talking about parent shit.

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

Socialization

You wake up from a dream and there is a person there. It's Miranda, your roommate. She's unloading the dishwasher in your kitchen. There are a couple of mugs in there and, without looking up, she tosses you one and asks if you want any coffee. Miranda has thick, dark hair and is pretty in that way that makes other girls jealous. Her mouth is usually set in a quirked-up expression of amusement or distaste. She finds most of the world pretty damn funny, and herself the center of that joke. When you look in the mirror, you see very different traits. You have wide eyes, thick, light-colored hair that sticks out every which way, and a similarly distended face. You could be handsome, if you had taken a bath in the last year or so. You're less sure if you could be funny. Your sense of humor consists mainly of allusions to the kind of literature they don't teach you at college.

"Socialization" was one of those concepts. It meant something like "the way that Miranda has to explain things to me in language I can understand, because I'm not innately one of the people." Miranda is probably older than you -- a college senior while you're still a junior -- but at the same time she has a childlike quality that lends itself well to the role of socialization-explainer, perhaps because you sometimes see her making the same simple mistakes that you would have made if you hadn't "socialized" enough. If your eyes are like mirrors, hers are like windows. She doesn't hide much from you, and she's never less than charming. Her friends, at least, call her Miranda the Magic Mirror, though this is probably a joke about something you don't understand.

You have come a long way, baby. You were once the quintessence of the unsocialized nerd, fresh off the plane from the farm. Now you know, or think you know, about all kinds of things you didn't know before. You know, for instance, that college is full of people like Miranda who make jokes about things like that -- that college students may mock you for your naivete but that they will tolerate your presence, even welcome it, out of simple curiosity.

There are limits to their tolerance, of course. The two of you live together because you're both at the bottom of the college food chain: outsiders who have no real place at this school and who don't have any interest in learning the rules of its social game.

The two of you share this distinction, but you still have other ways in which you differ. You are resigned to a low place in the pecking order, but in your heart of hearts you still believe you could change things, if only they would let you. Miranda too could change things, but she's much more proud of her position and place in the world than you could ever be. She is resigned to these things. You are not.

This is why she knows so much about things like "socialization" and you don't. What you see is that the world is made up of Mirandas and Martin. And there is nowhere you can go, and no way you can change things, unless you become a Miranda yourself. And for all you know, Miranda was born a Martin. She just read the right books. She just listened to the right people. And if she got there, you can get there. There's nothing special about her.

[yuikomorii]

I'm saying this on anon because last time I shared my opinion, other people (not you) attacked me. I am a huge fan of this blog, but I've been noticing something I'd like to share.

I agree that he isn't the worst in terms of meanness or abuse, but that still doesn't change the fact he is abusive to Yui. You do say this too, but it also comes off as disingenuous at times? It's briefly mentioned he does bad things (not really ever discussed what horrible things he's done), and then it's followed up by "well, at least he's not as bad as "X" person" or is followed up with a list of his "good" traits.

I understand you just want to promote your favorite DL boy, but the way its done feels very biased to the point where it's not consistent or sometimes hypocritical. For example, I found it a bit concerning with the criticisms of Laito as a child, as he was literally being sexually abused. Is it really fair to label Ayato's abuse as one to be more sympathetic towards, when they both were horrible? I guess that's the impression I was getting.

Once again, it's 100% okay to like Ayato as a character, and I do too, but the way your "facts" about Ayato and how the other characters are worse than him in terms of abuse, support, etc don't really seem all that consistent or fairly presented. You aren't obligated to write about the abusiveness of Ayato, but you do have a very large audience, and I know a few others feel the same but have been scared to comment.

// While I understand your point of view, I'd like to point out that you misunderstood me and almost everything I said in this post.

I literally always mention that Ayato is an abusive character, which must not be excused, and the reason I usually compare him to others is because he's seen as such a horrible person in this fandom while he's more on the nice side; he was even confirmed in a book as the friendliest and most approachable character. Abuse is still abuse, but there are different types of abuse. Ayato is a misunderstood and mischaracterized character who is always portrayed as the worst, despite being the poor excuse of a bad guy. I can't believe some people in HDB found his actions unforgivable while justifying and thirsting over characters who abused Yui in far worse ways.

His form of abuse is basically… pranks. He’s a DO-S but not in the way of harming people, but scaring them. Darts scene? He intended to scare her by piercing her heart with the darts, but instead kissed her. School scene? He drank her blood and pretended leaving Yui there but 5 seconds later he picked her up. Underground scene? He put handcuffs on her then pretended to leave but Yui kept screaming for him so he came out of hiding and let her go. Mysterious package scene? He gave her a mini skirt so as to make fun of her. The only time when he was violent (not counting bad endings since those are the “wrong” ones) was during the blood moon (when all vampires, as predators, get this desire to hunt and are more lustful), when he strangled her in one of the Maniac chapters. Normal HDB Ayato would never let Yui harm herself; he doesn’t get any satisfaction out of that, nor would he ever harm her in his routes (unless you count bites, lol, but he’s a vampire…). Even in Laito’s route, he helped Yui removing the handcuffs Laito had placed on her when she told him she wanted her hands to be cut off. Of course, nobody should ever allow such things in real life; it is bullying and toxic, and this should not be romanticized, but in a game about extremely sadistic monsters, he's definitely on the "not that bad" side. He never forced Yui to do anything scary, nor did he project his insecurities onto her or fill her with his own problems. And I know he called Yui "prey" in MB, which made her cry a lot, yet humans really are prey in their eyes. Still, Yui admits in the last ecstasy chapter that she was selfish for being too obsessed with Ayato's love rather than trying to understand him, and this was one of Yui's best developments because it demonstrated her learning from her mistakes. Ayato was also in the wrong; he should have tried to express his feelings rather than bottle them up, but I'm glad they both got together.

Side note: He is the Sakamaki who has insulted Yui the least (ik bare minimum). He called her flat (which everyone did) dumb and said her clothes lacked sex appeal, but he never made her feel insecure about her face. However, for some reason, he's always the one in headcanons who says things like "I don't like ugly women!" or stuff like that. One of the reasons I love Ayato is that he is the only one who genuinely used KIREI on her, and not only one time, which is something I will never stop talking about. This is so significant because in the majority of otome games, the love interests call the heroine “kawaii” and “kirei” is actually rarely used since it has a much bigger impact in Japan.

I may appear biased, but the thing is… Ayato is already a biased character by the company, and I'm not just saying that because he's always in the center of everything. He appears to be the favorite character of Rejet's most important employees, including Rejet's CEO (who also wrote some character songs and YB), Yamada-san (one of the route and CD drama writers + Young blood writer), and others. It's fine to express your displeasure with their bias toward him, but at the end of the day, we're just the players, and they're the creators, so there's nothing we can do. Also, Rejet confirmed all of the "horrible" things you mentioned:

1. When Ayato is accused of doing something bad, it isn't as sinister as you might think. It simply means causing mischief, or playing pranks on others, and this was demonstrated even on routes that were not his own. Still mean, but not horrifying.

2. It’s canon that all he did with the sacrificial brides was feed off them. Yes, they were innocent souls, but this official short story (translated by Koiiro on WP) explains the entire situation better. Basically, Yui explained that she has to eat meat even though she feels a bit bad for the animals killed in the process, but Ayato compares it to the sacrificial brides to cheer her up and explains that it's the circle of life. Vampires, after all, require blood to survive:

Ayato— “I don't feel sorry for those who are sacrificed."

Yui—"…eh?"

Ayato— "Because they're eaten by the great me. The weak can live within the strong, right? They should be grateful."

Yui— "Ayato-kun…"

Ayato— Titless looks surprised somehow. I look away from her, thinking that what just I said is an obvious thing.

Yui— "…thank you. You really are kind, Ayato-kun."

Ayato— For some reason, I hear Titless thanking me from behind.

Ayato— "Huh!? What do you mean?"

Yui— "…eh? I mean… at the very least, my blood isn't simply going to waste inside of you. When the thought crossed my mind, I just felt that way somehow…"

Ayato— Titless shyly smiles as she answers.

After hearing Yui's confession, Ayato goes into Tsundere mode, exclaiming, "It was about Takoyaki!" even though Yui knew very well he meant sacrificial brides.

No, @ DL fandom, he did not torture previous sacrificial brides as you might think. I know I'm probably one of the few DL fans who have access to a bunch of information about the franchise, but I'd really appreciate it if people would stop judging a character without knowing the facts.

Now, let's talk about Laito. I'm sorry, but I believe you completely missed the point of what I was trying to say. I never said Ayato's past was more worthy of sympathy than Laito's; I just said that both of them had it rough and that Laito shouldn't envy him for it, because Ayato's life wasn't perfect either.

As a person who got a pure 100% on my psychology exam, NEWSFLASH: Psychological, Neglect, Sexual and Physical abuse are the main types of abuse and they’re EQUALLY bad. Just because Laito was sexually abused doesn't mean Kanato, who was neglected, or Ayato, who was tortured and had many near-death experiences, had it better than him, and thinking that way is extremely insensitive. Worst past ≠ Saddest past. What makes Laito's past sadder than Ayato's is that Laito was severely impacted by it, whereas Ayato not so much. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I love Laito, and I'm a Laito stan, but dismissing his brother’s trauma is still wrong. That is equivalent to saying:

Person A: I was beaten up everyday to the point that I almost died over and over.

Person B: But you will never understand the pain of being rap€d.

Abuse is not a competition; everyone reacts differently; some people heal faster than others; and one thing is certain: Ayato's, Laito's, or anyone else's trauma will never be an excuse for abusive behavior.

Oh and actually, everything I mentioned are 100% canon facts??? They aren’t sugarcoated in Ayato’s favor, he really is portrayed by Rejet as a hero. He even came in first place among all Rejet boys, from all of their games, when it came to protecting you/MC in a fight against a powerful enemy.

Ayato and Azusa are both the most helpful Diaboys in the franchise, so claiming that Ayato is less supportive than his brothers is a huge lie. Sure, he's not always supportive, but he's more than the other Sakamakis and unquestionably more heroic. I focus on his positive traits rather than his negative ones because he has more positive traits than negative ones, lol. Ayato has done far more good than bad, so he deserves to be reminded of those rather than his flaws.

I'm sorry you got hate for sharing your opinion; nobody deserves to be hated for something like that, but maybe think outside the box next time? Or perhaps try to better analyze the situation? I don't mean to come across as mean; I have nothing against this ask, and I appreciate that you enjoy my blog; it's just that some fans are extremely defensive of their favorite Diaboy to the point of being very irascible. ^^”

[floralovebot]

on flora's whitewashing: is it possible that flora has been whitewashed in the show/movies with her artwork (illustrations) being fairly consistent with her skin tone, even prior to the reboots/nick era? like in season 1 and the movies iirc

examples: s1e3, and the movies like secret of the lost kingdom? i remember thinking she looked lighter in several scenes of lost kingdom and in that episode of season 1

i wonder if this is something that happened with flora in s1, with it not being or less a problem in s2 and 3, with the movie having a similar skintone to the reboot pictures. i swear that this has happened but i dont really see any discussions on rainbow lighting her skin other than in newer media (where it is more prevalent and more obvious) so if you have any thoughts? maybe also slightly on the merchandise/doll side of things if youre interested?

Rainbow whitewashing characters like Flora and Aisha has absolutely been an issue for a very long time. Unfortunately, a lot of white fans don't notice unless it's more of an extreme example (like Flora being stark white or Aisha looking like Bloom).

In the first three seasons, it's really not seen as a big issue because it's genuinely innocent on their part. Those seasons were hand drawn so every now and then you get a scene where the skin is too light or too dark and doesn't actually make sense with the lighting. Usually, it's an innocent mistake due to multiple artists, not understanding lighting, and things just slipping past them because they're looking at these scenes for hours and they get used to it.

Here are some examples from the first four seasons where their skin is too light even with the lighting happening around them.

And for reference, this is what their normal skin tone is (and what they look like in most scenes).

Again, people don't usually talk about these because it (most likely) wasn't racist or malicious intent from Rainbow. They just didn't understand lighting ajdhglad This actually happens with all of the winx! Just go through some episodes and you'll notice that even the white characters get lightened in ways that don't make sense.

As for the movies, Flora was 100% whitewashed in the first movie.

Flora got the brunt of it in sotlk - she's whitewashed for the entire movie, while Aisha is only whitewashed in certain scenes. There are scenes where both of them look normal and aren't whitewashed so maybe some fans just didn't realize, but if you watch the movie, you'll notice that Flora is whitewashed completely and only looks right when they're in super dark places which,, yikes ahdgalhg

The dolls were also a problem! The whitewashing in the doll lines heavily depended on the manufacturer though so it's very hit or miss.

A lot of the early dolls are perfect or almost perfect but some of them are whitewashed like in these examples. It's the later dolls that have the most whitewashing though so they tend to get more criticism (plus the early dolls are no longer being made).

Most of the other early (s1-s3) merchandising (like the magazines, bags, stickers, etc) didn't whitewash either of them.

I'd say almost all of the promotional art for the first three seasons was consistent and didn't whitewash any of the characters. It's hard to believe now of course but Iginio was initially really excited to make winx diverse (like he intentionally changed Flora to latina instead of white to make it more diverse). Rainbow intentionally whitewashing them really started with the first movie and then snowballed into what we have now. Unfortunately, I think so many white fans are so used to the whitewashing, that they've started to no longer even notice it unless it's super extreme. Like with the recent s9 promo art, most people weren't noticing Flora at all (and not ignoring her, specifically not noticing), and in a lot of fanart, they do not notice unless they're literally white.

Whitewashing has been a big issue in winx for years but I think there are a lot of fans who look at the early seasons with so much love and nostalgia that they don't want to admit it, or they don't understand how lighting affects skin, or their favorite character isn't Flora or Aisha so they just never pay attention to them (blorbo hyperbeam is very real). I'd still say that a lot of the early whitewashing was due to innocent mistakes regarding lighting and manufacturing, but the first movie was extremely on purpose (and so is everything after that).

[hot-take-tournament]

my mother insists that they got it right the first year and then just mandela effected themselves about it later or smth. but my grandmother says that she remembers for a few years insisting that it was actually the 30th and nobody believing her.

my parents say they didn't take the birth certificates out often to check bc apparently they didn't want to lose it or smth? and didn't actually look at it when they were copying mine and my sisters' for that school.

a lot of forms don't require proof of date of birth bc they assume that the parents, yknow, know when their kid was born. and the medical record that kept being referenced was the shot record, so until age 12, my doctor's records and ID and everything said the 29th, and after we figured it out, everything had to be changed

anyway, I sort of get my mother forgetting, bc she was drugged to hell and back (which is the same reason i was dropped p soon after i was born), but my dad's got no excuse

yeah, i mean i get how you'd forget - i legitimately once missed my own birthday because i got the month wrong

and i know that you fill out a lot of forms yourself, so i can see how all that information could be wrong if your parents were totally convinced that they were right - that makes sense, especially to a terminal airhead like me

but what i don't understand is how it was right on the birth certificate, but wrong on everything else, and especially your ID

if your parents made the mistake when they registered your birth, that's one thing - but if it was right on the certificate, it would have to be right on your ID as well????

(long boring ass explanation under the cut - i'm just trying to figure out how this is even possible)

if it's legally valid ID, it would have the same information as your birth certificate - you can't get a second form of valid ID without providing an already valid form of ID to confirm the information is correct

here's an example:

when you're a baby, your birth certificate is your only legally valid form of ID

(there are other options if you don't have one, like an adoption certificate for example, but let's ignore that for now since it doesn't apply here)

so, when you eventually want your second valid form of ID - let's say it's a passport - you have to present a form of ID to confirm the information is correct, and that would have to be your birth certificate, because you don't have anything else

so the information on your passport is guaranteed to be the same as your birth certificate, which is why it's an acceptable form of ID

and then, if you want a third form of ID, like a driver's license for example, you can present either your birth certificate or your passport, because they are guaranteed to both have the correct information

and then your driver's license would also have that same information, and now you have three forms of ID, and when you get your fourth ID - well, you get the idea.

that's how the system works - it's meant to ensure that your information is at least consistent on all your legal forms of ID, even if you or somebody else makes mistakes on other forms

i know you were only 12 so you probably didn't have many forms of ID, but the ones you did have should be correct

if your ID has the wrong date of birth on it - even by one day - it's a fake ID. if it's a passport, it isn't valid, so you gotta get those details fixed before you try to leave the country - it happens all the time, so it's not as if you're going to get in trouble for it, especially since it's only one day

(unless you're somehow mind-bogglingly stupid enough to say, completely unprompted, that you did it deliberately - and if that's you, you probably shouldn't run with scissors)

and there's no way your actual medical records would use your shot record of all things to confirm your age - that's such a randomly specific form for your entire medical history to be based on, and not everyone even has one; a hospital would always use your birth certificate, because a) everyone actually has one, and b) they know that it's got your correct information on it, which is pretty important for a hospital

in fact, i'm 90% sure that when you register with a doctor you need to give them a birth certificate, and that's the same for when you register at a school - like you said, you had to send them a copy, and they then used that for the standardised test to confirm your identity when they recorded your results

so, tl;dr - any record kept by or accepted as valid by the government - your legal ID, your educational qualifications, your criminal record if you have one, etc. - should have the same information as what's on your birth certificate

the reason they need safeguards like this is specifically because of situations like yours

so if all those records are correct, i don't see how something like this can happen for 12 years without anyone noticing at any point??

and if your legal/medical records aren't correct, since your parents were right for the first year of your life i have no idea when this all fell apart to the point where they had to go back and change everything - there's no way that was because of a shot record, even if that was what caused the mandela effect for your parents

also, they were right for an entire year but then convinced themselves they were wrong because of the shot record, which I think starts on the same day as the birth, or at least like 7-10 days later?? that makes this story weirder somehow

anyway, i tried to make this concise, but this story is so baffling that i literally can't wrap my head around it, so sorry this was really long

and this is just my understanding of it, and if i got something wrong, let me know - i'm not an expert by any means

(also, side note - your grandma was not correct; she mandela-affected herself into believing she was right the entire time, as all grandparents do. my advice would be to start fully agreeing with her, and you'll become her favourite grandchild)

[hyunjinswifeee]

I know you don't want to hear from me. But I'm having problems submitting asks right now because this account im using under security check rn because it's new.

Unfortunately. I read an article.

This one https://www.cfr.org/global-conflict-tracker/conflict/israeli-palestinian-conflict

And I need to apologize. I want to apologize for making that joke about Palestinians victims. It was disgusting, violent and totally harmful. And not funny at all. I need to apologize for saying I was uneducated and I want to apologize for the stalking. I did make a few accounts to see what was going down on some blogs.

And I just found out Palestine has been victims for years! 75 to be exact. The death rate between Israel and Palestine is so unnecessary! Have you seen it. During the last couple years you only a couple hundred Israels die and a massive thousand of Palestinians die. And I realized how unfair they are. Not only that. But Israel really wants to be victim. They attacked an Egypt airport (I think it was an airport) in 1957 I believe and I knew it has nothing to do with this. But I was really into this research.

This is not an excuse. But I need to explain my actions. I'm 17. I live with my mother. She is 100% Republican and she is super racist. One day she sat me down and asked if I knew what was happening between Israel and Palestine. I said no. And she explained.

She said Palestine is hurting Israel and Hamas is being sent over to kill Israels people. Something about suicide bombing and such. she said women are getting raped by Hamas and so on.

I thought I was educated because of what the one person, whom I am supposed to trust. Basically lied to me. And I was an absolute dick on the Internet because of my so called knowledge. And I want to apologize to you. I'm sorry and I hope this reaches you. And no, you don't need to stop talking shit about me. I'm down with Tumblr. And I understand your anger towards me. I understand crybabychims anger. And I hope this reaches you. Because I've been feeling super guilty. In fact. I've been going to church. It's ridiculous I know. But I need to get this out of my head. It's haunting me.

My mom has change over the years. She was never always like this. Still not an excuse. But it's odd to me now that I know what she did. And now she's upset that I support Palestinians.

Anywho. Please read this and have some thought. If not. That's totally your choice.

You are correct on the very last part i didn’t have to answer you but because I’m nice i’mma gonna say something to you..

what you have done here was inexcusable having your followers attack @crybabychims @joonberriess @aft3rhrs because you got called out for how you talk to people and not only that but want to be an ignorant and not listen to people when they are LITERALLY giving you information about what’s going on in Palestine

First you said you didn’t support neither Palestine or Israel but when anons were jumping your ass for that first answer that you made on your last blog all of a sudden it’s “Free Palestine”? You weren’t educated enough but there’s evidence right in your face? you had all this time to talk about Palestine you had all this time to be reblogging post about Palestine but you chose to stay silent.. and you said “stop talking about politics and genocide on writers blog unless given permission” since when did we have to have permission to talk about this genocide on a writers blog when other writers themselves are talking about it

And some other things i want to say you said you’re 17 right? It doesn’t matter how old you are you are you can still do your research about Palestine and what they’ve been going through for 75 years!! your mother telling you other things doesn’t make it any better instead of you doing your research you’ve decided to listen to what your mother had to say and stick with it now that’s a problem.

You’ve consistently kept harassing @crybabychims when she said she did not want you on her blog anymore after the things you have done and she has been getting harassed by people because of you but not only is she getting harassed but @joonberriess has been getting anons too harassing her for YOUR doings it’s disgusting and it’s not okay whatsoever and making multiple blogs won’t do you any justice because people are still gonna know who you are and if you’ve been blocked then just accept that and move on no need to keep making other blogs just to stalk other people don’t you think?

You also called someone “ghetto” for how they were talking and yes I’ve seen the conversations you had with that person and let me tell you that shit was not cute of you calling them ghetto black or not that is something that should not be coming out of your mouth period.

And one last thing before i end this conversation is be careful how you say things to people on the internet because it will come back to you how you treat people they will treat you the same way but you shouldn’t be apologizing to me you should be apologizing to the three people that I’ve mentioned that’s IF they want to hear your apology.

[blankingbloom]

5/26/24

Dear Angelica (aka future me),

Hey! How are you? Before I start my thousands of questions, let me first say, congratulations on graduating and finishing your senior year of high school!!! this must be a bittersweet moment for you, as I am experiencing this at the moment as a junior watching the grades above me graduate and do senior activities. Graduating is a once in a lifetime moment, not everybody gets to graduate due to unfortunate circumstances, but congratulations! Thank you so much for staying strong, the k-12 system is literally horrible lol. I just wanted to say, I (17 year old Angelica) will forever be within you. I am you, but I want you to have no regrets or wising to be me because “life was so carefree” 💀💀 naw it’s not I’m suffering rn lmfao I have 3 summer classes, a job to juggle and volunteer opportunities to catch up on and college apps 😿 whomp whomp. I so desperately want to be you right now! It may feel insufferable at the moment and you feel lots of bittersweet feelings and loneliness being unleashed from hell (prison) (kleinisd) (kleinhigh); you should know that there is a whole chapter ahead of you and you’ve achieved a milestone! When something ends, a new opportunity arises. I hope you’ll feel better soon, knowing how I feel now will probably affect you 10x deeper (you’ll understand). Highschool for me was no fun adventure; I was barely sociable, barely any friends (like a few ofc I’m not a loser), I felt like I wasn’t on track to be my genuine real self anytime soon, but you have the opportunity to change that through college. I need you to be stronger for me until we get our masters in compsci 💀. Be an academic weapon once more for us plz!! I know you want that so bad. I know our experience wasn’t the best, especially during covid and certain situations, but there is a whole life ahead of us, that is depending on our actions. I trust us to keep it up! BTW Im missing a ton of the 2023 seniors, I can’t believe that it’s real. It low key hurt seeing everyone I had classes with especially in financial math, english, photography, and a&p graduate. It’s so bittersweet it low key hurt my feelings, especially seeing everyone I grew up with who were a grade above me. I don’t want to forget them at all, I want to remember who they are! I never peaked in high school, but I’m never going to see these people again, unless it’s by a rare chance someday, I doubt they would recognize me. I guess I just grew attached. Anyways, I have some questions LOL.

1. What is our plan after graduating Highschool? What college are we going to?

2. Did we end up submitting any of our SAT/ACT scores?

3. What’s your favorite song currently?

4. Are we still dating Ben?

5. Did we make any new friends?

6. What is your college essay about?

7. What made us stronger?

8. How was senior year? Was it any easier taking AP classes? Do we understand pre-calc?

9. Do we still want to take comp sci?

10. What happened to your H‑E‑B job?

11. Did we get any stoles/cords for graduation or not?

12. What was our final Highschool GPA?

13. What’s our class schedule?

14. What do we look like now? Do I still have short hair? Do I still look gay?

15. Can we crochet with greater experience?

16. What’s your biggest worry?

17. Are you happy?

Thank you for reading this!! Respond to my questions soon. Goodbye! I will always be within you.

Sincerely, Angelica

____________________________________________________________

REPLY:

Hi Baby Angelica!

Since you're from the past, I have so so so much to catch you up on. Time flies by when you're consistently stressed out. But don't worry! I will answer your millions of questions first! Then we can actually discuss :)

1. What is our plan after graduating Highschool? What college are we going to?

A: We are doing Computer Engineering! After hours and hours of research, I wanted you to have opportunities in both the computer science and electrical engineering fields. I want you to have a lot of pathways so you can have tons of money and opportunities! We are going to UT Dallas. We got CAPPED from UT Austin and UW-Seattle was way out of our budget sadly. Maybe someday my love :(

2. Did we end up submitting any of our SAT/ACT scores?

A: Hell no, they were too low LMFAO

3. What’s your favorite song currently?

A: Talk by Beabadoobee, Antihero by Taylor Swift, any MSI song

4. Are we still dating Ben?

A: Yes <3

5. Did we make any new friends?

A: YES! We aren't friends with.. those girl(s) anymore. They were bad for you. WE HAVE MORE GENUINE AND KIND FRIENDS!! There is a whole world out there waiting for you. I love my friends.

6. What is your college essay about?

A: Bugs. In the UT Austin essays, we wrote about photography, allergies, tamagotchis, etc.

7. What made us stronger?

A: Learning to adapt, spreading love, reading people, putting ourselves in uncomfortable situations in order to grow. Being with likeminded people!

8. How was senior year? Was it any easier taking AP classes? Do we understand pre-calc?

A: PRE CAL WAS MY MOST HATED SUBJECT. It is so fricking hard I dont think I ever understood the concepts. The AP Classes had lots of work in it but you managed your time fine and it was never that serious anyways (except AP 2D art) that sucked a lot. Senior year was shit im not even gonna lie. I didn't even attend like 98% of the events LOL. Fuck no I am not going back!

9. Do we still want to take comp sci?'

A: Computer Engineering babe dont sweat it

10. What happened to your H‑E‑B job?

A: OUR LAST DAY WAS TODAYYYYYYYY

11. Did we get any stoles/cords for graduation or not?

A: One stole for NHS, one stole for DUDU CREDIT!

12. What was our final Highschool GPA?

A: 4.6/6.0 LMFAOOO

13. What’s our class schedule?

A: -1st period: Late Arrival (Used to be Photography 4)

A: -2nd: AP Art History

A: -3rd: Photojournalism/Office Aide

A: -4th: AP Psychology/Interpersonal Studies

A: -5th: AP 2D Art

A: -6th: AP Pre-Cal (idk how u survived but girl... never again)

A: -7th: Early Release

14. What do we look like now? Do I still have short hair? Do I still look gay?

A: You got the short hair back and we still look gay asf. We have new pink glasses though and they're see through! We still have bangs. Shit load of stretch marks though smh. Im like 115 pounds now.

15. Can we crochet with greater experience?

A: fuck no

16. What’s your biggest worry?

A: If my roommates will like me, I'll feel lonelier, money, If ill be smart enough for college, if my friends now will still want to hang out with me :(

17. Are you happy?

A: I could be happier but I am okay! Not stressed right now :)

[bullywug-n-mugwort]

.

idk why people just decide they get to invalidate someone else's identity when they are not the one with that identity and therefore don't know what they're talking about. just saw someone i otherwise respect reblog a post about how bisexual lesbian is an invalid term because each term has changed over time and claiming it's lesbophobic and biphobic to use the term [something something mutually exclusive experiences]. i usually call my orientation "queer" but i often use "bi lesbian" to make sense of my own experience. the tags of this post were full of people dunking on all imagined reasons someone may call themselves a bi lesbian, none of which reflect my own experiences and reasoning.

not that i should have to defend myself, but a lot of these comments were very fixated on the experiences of "liking only women" vs "liking both women and men." these categories obviously have social significance, but to me personally, romantically and sexually, these categories aren't super helpful. i cannot isolate traits of manhood or womanhood i find attractive. i'm into femme traits until i see a hot butch. i like certain chests, certain facial features, and any genitals. these traits don't map onto coherent binary genders very well. not to mention my attractions shift with my fluid gender. if i'm looking for a consistent pattern, i'm into gendernonconformity if anything. i guess i'm far more into women than i am men unless the man is a flamboyant twink but at the end of the day i'm not into either as much as i am a very specific weird collection of queer gender markers. (and pansexual had never seemed to fit the bill, because there are also many gender expressions and markers i am certainly unattracted to.)

does that really make me a biphobic bisexual? i wrestled with more shame at the idea that i was a lesbian, a stereotype threat for the bisexual community i love. the twink i married turned out not to be a man at all. i was struggling with worries about comphet for years because i loved them but our marriage didn't feel "right," and now that we're both practicing genderqueers it does. to me, that experience made bisexuality feel less like home than it had before. at the same time, finding like two men attractive excludes me from the lesbian community. is it such a sin to have found home in a term that made coherent my knot of comphet and dysphoria?

i realized, as many lesbians with comphet do, that i would probably never be happy in a relationship with a man, as in someone who self- identified as a man and embraced manhood. i also find astarion bg3 hot as fuck. i fail to see how these are mutually exclusive experiences.

can i guarantee that no biphobia or lesbophobia has wormed its way into my brain? of course not, but it is so strange that embracing both those terms brands you as someone who hates both. it's also strange to exclude people from terms on the basis of internalized shame. why care if some people call themselves bi lesbians? does it feel invalidating to you? that's your own work-- same as women who think afab nonbinary people are really just women who are ashamed of being a woman and therefore should continue living as "women". (ie it's not my job to choose an identity that you approve of or think is free of shame. you figure it out.) are you worried it invalidates us in the eyes of the heteros? i simply don't believe in policing our own terms to make cishets see us as more valid or understandable. it's disguised respectability politics, plain and simple.

all these terms for our identities are best fits and best guesses, grasping for connections under this big lovely queer umbrella. the person who reblogged that post is a nonbinary lesbian. why do the same people who accept the concept of a nonbinary lesbian-- a thing that should be impossible if the term "lesbian" has actually calcified as the post claims-- insist that "bisexual" and "lesbian" are concrete, immovable, and mutually exclusive identities? to be extremely clear, i support nonbinary lesbianism. it's valid. and it's a weird fucking line to draw, saying that the gender spectrum can support loosely-gendered lesbianism on the side of the beholder but not the recipients.

there was also a historical argument claiming that people are misinterpreting contexts in which bisexual lesbian was used circa early 20th century. and like... okay??? i found the term in a pdf zine from the 90's which interviewed self-identified bisexual lesbians, gleaning a bunch of different reasons for the label. some fell into the assumptions of the aforementioned post, eg bisexuals who were basically political lesbians. (i don't claim to support this stance, though i do still insist people can call themselves whatever they want.) many more summarized complicated stories like mine, people who did not fall neatly into either "mutually exclusive" category because, it turns out, gender is a fluid weird spectrum. bi lesbians whose attractions are bi and gender is lesbian. bi lesbians who were literally only into women except for one "man". bi lesbians who were trying to untangle comphet and so weren't sure which label, if either, fit. bi lesbians who liked to fuck any gender but only fell in love with "women". so anyway, fuck outta here with "history doesn't work like that" narrow target practice.

and even if that's true... again, words are evolving all the time. we've made words like sapphic and achillean to make some sense of gender. "lesbian" has on-off been used as a gender term for decades. we've invited nonbinary people into lesbianism and many understandings of gender into bisexuality. bi lesbian is another evolution of our language, and people have been shitty about it since at least the early days of DTWOF-- bechdel's characters struggled with all of the above since the 80's.

and what's the point of terms? to find community, self- identity, and sometimes practical utility, eg in the dating world. were i to date again (yikes), "bisexual" would not be a helpful self-descriptor for finding a romantic partner. lesbian would. if i wanted to hook up, bisexual would be more helpful than lesbian, and i'd have to root through lots of gender expressions anyway. so in terms of my self identity and finding communities of similar folk, "bi lesbian" is a super helpful term. if you are a bisexual or a lesbian and feel frustrated or confused by my term, that's because it doesn't apply to you. maybe just realize this isn't your thing and leave our community to explore our experiences. love you, see you later in the sapphic tags where we have things in common.

so anyway, i think it's pretty silly to see a term, imagine reasons you dislike for why someone may use it, and pitch a fit. my identity's legitimacy has no bearing on yours. leave us alone.