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yougottalovekyloren · 5 years

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Promise

A/N: Okay, so, the final part to “Until Death Do us Part” is in the works, but I thought that I would publish a little one part imagine.Switch things up a bit, ya know? I’m kinda unsure how it ended up, but I hope y’all will like it. But don’t worry, there’s still angst to be had lol. Hope you enjoy, and have a lovely day!

-M <3

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We promised ourselves that we wouldn’t get too attached

They were the first words of conversation as I lay in his arms the first night he allowed me to stay in his company. It seemed easy enough, I suppose. I was grateful for the time that was given to me, with each night that was spent away from my chambers and inside his own.

Finding his bed empty with no notice as to where he had gone was something I had grown used to. A habit of his that I had grown to accept. The Supreme Leader did not owe me anything further than the night before.

But as the weeks bled into months, our morning ritual began to change. Instead of finding the sheets cool and unoccupied, I was still gently held against his chest, his strong arms wrapped around my waist tightly as if in fear that I would leave at any point.

The bed was no longer just for our moments of passion, but for conversations and sparks of happiness that I never once considered possible for me, a simple nurse in the med bay who happened to be in charge of nursing him back to health after a rather nasty battle.

“You need to promise me you won’t go into the field with the others today.” His voice was nearly as soft as his gaze, watching as I tilted my head up to look at him.

“You mean, not do my job?” I snorted slightly.

“I’m serious.” His hand brushed against my cheek, and I instinctively lean agains his palm. “You’ll be safe here.... and you can attend to my own injuries if I return with any.”

“You sure have quite the regard for my safety as of late, Supreme Leader.” I quipped with a smile, but deep down, my heart thudded in my chest at even the thought of his own concern for me.

His eyes quickly darted away from me and the room fell silent.

I let out a sigh and rolled over, straddling his waist. His hands automatically come to rest on my thighs and I couldn’t help the small shiver at the feeling of his rough, calloused against my soft skin.

“Kylo, look at me.”

His gaze remained locked on the ceiling, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. My face leaned closer to his own, and I pressed gentle kisses against his skin until I reached the corner of his mouth. By this point, I knew I had his attention, and purposefully drew away.

A small grunt was the response I received and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Really? A grunt?”

Kylo shrugged, but I could see a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. His warm brown eyes shifted back to mine, and he nodded slightly, as if prompting me to speak.

“I know what we promised each other when this began...” I paused, unsure of how he would react to my words. “but every time that you have to leave to go on some dangerous adventure, I always want you to stay. But who am I to-”

My words were cut off by his lips as he sat up and wrapped his arms around me, and I gladly let the words die away as I melted into his embrace.

After a few moments, he pulled away, letting our foreheads rest together in a brief silence.

“I think it’s fair to say that we’ve both broken that promise.” Kylo said softly, his voice nearly a whisper. “But I need to keep you safe, and the only way that I know you will remain untouched is either if you are with me, or if you are here on board. And we both know that you can’t come with me this time.”

“But I can’t do my job if I’m always locked away.” I leaned back and smiled slightly as I smoothed a piece of his hair out of his face “I want to help save lives. And besides, the Stormtroopers do a fine job protecting us, even in the midst of battle.”

“Stormtroopers are replaceable, but you are not.”

“Kylo.... please...” I sighed, looking at him calmly. “I need to do my job. I promise that I will be safe. Besides, no one even knows that we are... romantically involved. It won’t be as if I have an extra target on my back.”

“No, but if anything happened to you, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.” Once again, his eyes fell away from me as his feelings became vulnerable once more. But I wouldn’t let him hide away from me.

I gently grabbed his face with my hands and pulled his attention towards me once more. “You’re not going to lose me.”

“How do you know that?” His gaze reflected pain that I knew had lingered in them for years.

Of course, I didn’t know that my safe return was guaranteed, not with running into the open field to try to save wounded troopers lives. But as much as I grew to care for the Supreme Leader, I could not leave my job behind and pretend that it meant nothing to me.

“I need you to trust me.” I replied, my throat growing thick with unshed tears. “I know that you want to keep me out of harms way, but I need to save lives. I want to limit the number of casualties and try to bring everyone home safe.”

“Even if you don’t come home at all?”

His question slightly startled me. “I’ve learned that you have to be selfless to serve for a cause that you believe so dearly in. And that is how I have felt ever since I started working for the First Order... since I’ve met you.”

“I don’t want it ever to come down between saving yourself and serving the First Order.” His hand cupped me cheek, and I gazed into his eyes. They were hesitant and unsure. “But if you really wish to be there today, you may. But all I ask is that you have someone guarding you at all times... and to be safe.”

“I can do that.”

“Promise?”

“Yes. I promise to be safe.” I leaned in and sealed it with a simple kiss, one that might possibly have been my last.

---

Kylo’s POV

It seemed as if the battle would never end.

The Resistance certainly came prepared for a nasty fight, but so did the First Order. As Stormtroopers began to drop, either from nasty wounds or immediate death, the med bay nurses began to dispatch from their cover of safety to the sides of the injured men.

My heart nearly jumped to my throat as I saw Y/N began to move, but she turned and gave me a reassuring smile. Even with my mask on, I was sure she could feel the unease that ran through me at the thought of her being in danger.

But with a simple smile, she returned to her work, closely guarded by Captain Phasma, who I had ordered to keep watch over her.

Without second glance, I turned back to the fighting erupting behind me and found a Resistance fighter to sink my lightsaber into within seconds. As the minutes turned into hours, the Resistance fighters were beginning to drop like flies, until only a scarce few were left alive.

As the last few were being dealt with, I turned to look for Y/N, who I had seemed to have lost in the midst of the chaos. As the number of seconds had passed with no luck of finding her, my heartbeat immediately quickened and my mouth went dry in worry that I may have lost her without even knowing.

“Kylo!”

I turned to see Captain Phasma approaching, her silver plated uniform reflecting the dimming sun light.

“You were supposed to stay with Y/N. Where is she?” My tone was clipped and I knew that Phasma could sense my unease.

“She is attending to one more patient. She wanted me to find you and bring you to her.”

Before I could open my mouth to respond, our conversation was interrupted by a loud, explosive boom of a bomb. I turned my head to see a thick yellow gas beginning to spread, slowly making its way towards where we stood.

Despite Phasma’s urgent warnings not to enter, I began to run and soon enough, I had entered the yellow fog. It was nearly blinding, and as it began to filter through my mask, I began to cough. I needed to find her, immediately. She would not last long on her own.

“Y/N!”

My voice began to crack after the third or fourth time I called her name, my hope slowly slipping through my fingers.

As I took another step forward, I felt a hand gently grasp onto my ankle, and I looked down to find Y/N laying on the ground. Without another word, I pulled her body into my arms and ran back to where the others had stayed behind.

Each step was more painful than the last, and my lungs ached with each breath I took. I wanted so badly to give in, to let my demise be in the poisoness fog of the Resistance and let it be finished. But I couldn’t, not with the woman who I had grown to fall in love with dying in my arms.

I tried my hardest to keep moving, but eventually, my legs gave out from underneath me. Y/N’s body fell from my arms, and I heard a small groan escape her body. I yanked off my helmet and with nearly all the strength left in my body, I crawled closer to her and pulled her back into my embrace.

Her head leaned against my chest, her eyes half way open as she gazed up at me. A gash on her forehead was bleeding, dripping down the side of her face. Her gorgeous Y/E/C had turned red from the gas, and her lips had become slightly cracked.

“You promised me.” I croaked, my chest beginning to ache as I watched Y/N’s consciousness begin to waiver.

“I-I’m sorry.” Her eyes began to water with tears and a sob escaped her lips. “I’m so sorry.”

Without another word, I leaned down and smashed my lips against hers, kissing her for what felt like the very last time.

“I love you.” my confession was nearly a whisper, nearly all my energy drained from me.

“I love you too...” Y/N’s voice slowly died away, and her eyes slowly closed, her consciousness withering away to nothing.

My body eventually gave up, falling to the ground with her body still in my arms. My lungs were engulfed in flames, and eventually, it felt easier to accept that death was easier than whatever life looked like ahead.

My eyes began to close, and I started to fall into a deep darkness, with the love of my life in my arms. It was not the worst way to die, but certainly not what the vicious Kylo Ren had hoped his death to be.

Before my eyes shut completely, flashes of light emerged in my vision and I heard Phasma’s familiar voice in my ear. All I knew was that we had been saved.

---

Third Person POV

No one dared venture after the Supreme Leader when he sprinted into the smoke. Phasma was startled at his request to watch over the girl, but even more so when he ran after her.

But after thinking about it while awaiting his return, it all clicked in her head: he had fallen in love with her.

After a little under ten minutes had passed with no sign of either of them, Phasma pulled a few Stormtroopers together to go in to find them. It hadn't taken them very long to find them, and when they did, Phasma’s suspicions were proven correct.

The young nurses’ body had been cradled in the arms of the Supreme Leader and both had succumbed to the world of the unconscious. Their bodies were quickly transported into a ship and taken back to receive treatment.

It took numerous hours and countless doctors, but both the Supreme Leader and the young nurse had been declared stable and placed in the same room, under the suggestion of Captain Phasma.

She sat in their room the next day, eventually noticing the Supreme Leader open his eyes open. He frowned curiously, looking down and noticing all the wire’s hooking up to him.

“Where am I? Where’s Y/N?”

Before he could start pulling everything off of him, Phasma stood and gestured to the bed next to him.

“She’s right here, Supreme Leader. Y/N should be awake in a matter of hours. She’s safe.”

Relief flooded his eyes and a rare smile lit up his face. “Just as she promised.”

----

A/N 2: Okay, y’all. I honestly considered NOT including the part about them being rescued and recovering, but that would’ve been too sad for me today. lol. Or ever, honestly. But I hope you enjoyed! See ya later!

#Kylo #kylo ren #kyloren #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren fanfiction #kylo ren x reader #kylorenxyou #kylorenimagine #kyoren #bensolo #ben solo #ben x reader #ben #ben solo x reader

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kinda-iconic · 6 years

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End of Year Message

So 2018 is nearly over (I honestly can’t tell you how relieved I am!) and we are on the brink of welcoming in the new year. I’m posting this now as we’re all in different time zones and it’s hard to keep track as I’m slap bang in the middle 😂 (it’s a bit difficult to schedule when some in the east are celebrating new year already and the west is still a couple of hours behind... it’s a daily struggle).

As you guys know, I haven’t been on Tumblr for very long - I started this account in June - and I honestly can’t describe how thankful I am to each and every one of you - though I thought that this blog would crash and burn (like my life 😂) it has flourished into something that is unbelievable! I’m now six months in and am just shy of 480 followers like.... wow.

Being a part of this community has made me feel happy and accepted - y’all know I’m strange but you don’t judge me or comment about it all the time 🙃 you’ve all been so welcoming and kind to me and I love each and every one of you so much! You’re all amazing people and you deserve the world!

I have loved writing since I was a child; I used to write stories all of the time! Though it wasn’t until secondary that I took it up as a hobby and it got noticed (my English teacher was very supportive and wrote in my leavers book that she hopes I become an author - apparently my writing was very mature for a 14 year old) though I hope that I do become an author one day I kinda already am - not published obviously but - I cannot thank you enough for reading and responding to my fanfics! I was incredibly nervous writing my first and after I posted it I really wanted to take it down but your response changed that - people were liking and reblogging it - I have had some of the sweetest things said about my writing and believe me when I say that if I tell you I’m crying I really am 😂 I’ve left the room at least 4 times in tears because someone wrote something nice about it @nobounderiesplease your thoughtful submission was one of them! ☺️

For a long time I have always doubted my abilities... I have friends who are so so talented and to me I don’t really have a talent - I never used to like my writing at all...until you guys changed that mindset ♥️

Most of you know by now that I have not had the greatest of years; I’ve had to deal with a lot this year (mainly a family member being sick) and there was one point where I started to believe that this was it. That I was going to lose it all. Believe me when I say that I am more fortunate than others; I have an amazing family who have raised me so well, I have friends that I love dearly and I have been blessed with the education that I have received - though it hasn’t been easy, I wouldn’t swap this life for anything, because I know that, though I may have trusted the wrong person I know that I need to be more careful when placing my trust in people; although I have suffered bereavement more than once and found it difficult to accept I now know that that person is never truly gone as they are always within our hearts... and I think that’s what gets me through it all.

EACH and EVERY ONE of you have helped me through this past year. We may not have interacted, but you just being there and posting when I’m down is enough.

@nk-writes You were my first friend on here (I can’t even remember what we spoke about) but I value you so much in my life! You have been nothing but kind and supportive of me as both a person and a writer and I thank you! x and thank you for the cat gifs

@queerchoicesblog El where do I start? You’re a beautiful person! I love you so so much! You have been amazing and a true godsend! I am so happy that I met you and I am honoured to call you my friend - thank you beanie x

@the-council-of-new-york-vampires We bonded over BB; though I stan Adrian and wasn’t keen on Vega, you accepted me and we have had some truly amazing and hilarious conversations 🙃 you are an incredible person and the work and effort that you put into everything that you do is just... extraordinary. Thank you for your amazing blog - and thank you for being my friend x

@teamtomsato @christopher-powell You have both been incredible! You’ve been so kind and helpful to me and I just can’t thank you enough! I love your blogs and you are both amazing people! x

@rebeccaschoices I know I like to call myself the queen of sass and savagery (and I would hope that I would be at least something when it comes to humour) but, though I value my crowns, the queen of comedy goes to you! We may not speak a lot, but I love ya and everything that you do! You are a gem and I want you to remember that no matter what time of the day, you can always message me if you want to vent ☺️ I’m here to listen and help x

@itlivesbeneath You are amazing, Taylor.. truly! My fellow Adrian Stan and an incredible edit maker! Thank you for making this year amazing and blessing us with your talent! x

Speaking of talent....

@pilitella Can you let me borrow some of that artistic talent?! I need some 😂 you are so so talented I don’t even know what to say 🤭 x

@zigortega4life My fellow Shane Stan! You are one of the kindest people that I have met on here and it’s very rare that I find another shane Stan (I don’t know many!) thank you for sharing in all that I love and thank you for the cats! x

@imafictosexual @akrenich You guys are just amazing and kind people - thank you both for supporting me on this journey x

@give-me-ernest-sinclaire @femmeshep @nobounderiesplease @melodyofgraves Thank you for your ongoing support for me and my work - it means the world to me knowing that people like what I’m doing and actually read my stories x

There are so many of you that I could write about but this would go on forever. But from the bottom of my heart, I want to say thank you. Thank you for being there for me and filling my 2018 with happiness and light.

Lots of Love and best wishes for 2019,

Amy xxx

#happy new year my lovelies #love you all x

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iblameashley · 7 years

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My book: Chapter One

Hey guys! I decided that I would post the first Chapter of my book, currently titled “Embers” on here for y’all to read. Curious to see how popular it may be as I have been trying to get it published to no avail (It is entirely possible I suck as a writer!). Little bit of info for you before you click the read more link below!

Genre: Gay, Fantasy, Romance, Erotica (None in Chapter 1)

Total (book) word count: 132, 000

Total (book) pages: 250 MS Word

Synopsis: Mason is a teacher in an exchange program in the city of Vromog, teaching inscription magic to Orc students. When Mason is recalled to his homeland early, he is accompanied by his handler, Kailo. On their way, they –along with a representative from Mason’s homeland named Delia – are captured by soldiers from Illius, and brought to their King, Jakkan. Mason, Kailo and Delia spend the next several weeks being tortured for information they don’t have. What follows is the story of their escape and discovery that they both love each other.

“It’s important to remember,” Mason said, as he walked slowly from one side of the room to the other, “That when you carve an inscription, you spell them correctly.” There was a low chuckle from the audience. “If you fail to check the spelling, you could end up on fire, or dead, possibly both. That’s the best outcome; the worst would be killing everyone within a thirty foot radius of your blunder.” He brushed his thick black Mohawk hair back and gave an awkward laugh.

Dugar was the first to reply; he was an older Orc and had been in the military for over three decades longer than Mason had been alive. He stood about eight feet tall, and was about five hundred pounds of muscle. Despite his height and battle-worn face, he was respectful – even to the young human man teaching him a magic crafting class.

“This is takin’ too long for us to do!” He complained. “These shields are a lot of work and I was never good with the rune language.” His accent was thick, but his complaint came across clearly.

“Your generals thought it would be in your best interest if you learned how to do these for yourself. That way you can make repairs on your own, or make new shields when the time comes to replace the old ones. I understand it’s a lot of work, I do. They made me do it by hand back at Draden Academy before I was allowed to use my magic to make them.” Mason leaned against the large wooden taken behind him, bracing his hands against the edge. “Besides, you’re all military men; you should be used to patience and hard work.” He grinned.

“Y’had to get your hands dirty?” Dugar joked.

“Very much so,” Mason nodded. “Although people from Dradena are magic users, we are taught how to do things manually – by hand, that is – before we are taught to do it the magic way.”

“Why is that?” Guddar, another of the Orc men asked. He was sitting as his table with his eyes on the papers in front of him.

“Well… Everyone in my country is a mage, but our powers don’t develop until we’re about thirteen years old, so until that time we have to learn to do things the hard way. Our parents and teachers also like us to have an understanding of how things work. They don’t believe magic should be used to solve every problem.”

“Makes sense.” Dugar said, turning back to the shield that lay on the table.

“I promise you, this will be an invaluable skill.” Mason said with a smile, though he always felt a little intimidated in a room full of Orcs.

Before anyone else could say another word, the doorway creaked open slowly. Kailo stood in the frame and looked past the class to Mason, still leaning against the table. “You are needed in the Astral room, someone from Dradena is summoning you.” He said in a deep, flat voice.

“Did they say why?” Mason asked as he walked down the aisle of tables to the doorway.

“No.” Kailo replied, “But I’m told it’s important.”

Both men stood there in silence. Mason pondered what it could be about, and looked back at Kailo who was simply staring at him. He was almost eight feet tall with copper-colored skin that had been darkened by the sun along his face and arms. His long black hair was pulled neatly into a braid that ran down his back. His tusks had silver rings at the base with inscriptions that were impossible to read, and he had piercing honey colored eyes.

“Sorry,” Mason said shaking his head, “I got lost in thought.” He turned back to the class and gave them instructions while he was away, the most important one being ‘do not activate the shields!’ He turned back to Kailo, extended an arm and followed the massive man out the door.

Getting to the Astral Room was a long journey; the room had been the most recent construction at Vromog and sat at the very top of the mountain. Kailo and Mason had to walk through the residential wing to the main atrium; a massive open cylinder that spanned most of the height of the mountain. The walkways were lined by thick iron railings and lit by a series of lanterns. They crossed a bridge that ran over the atrium and through a long hallway into the archives wing, and took a large set of stairs up to the government wing.

“Draden,” Mason said, finally breaking the silence.

“What?” Kailo asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Dradena is our country; the group of islands that make up the nation. Draden is the capital city I grew up in, and probably where the summon came from.”

“Oh,” Kailo replied, “my apologies.”

“No need to apologize, I just wanted to clarify.”

It took several more stairs to reach the top; the journey taking them nearly a half hour. It was mostly spent in silence.

Mason was worried about that. Though Kailo could be hard to read, he almost always made an effort to make small-talk; something he was probably instructed to do as Mason’s handler during his time in Vromog. He wondered is Kailo knew something.

As they reached the large doorway that lead into the Astral Room, Mason could feel his breath becoming burdened. It was unsettling enough that he was called here so suddenly, but being so high up the air was already thin, and climbing stairs built for Orc’s took much of his energy. Between his rampant thoughts and the ascent, he was feeling nauseated.

The two guards stationed at the door took a handle each and pulled the large metal door open for them. Inside, the crystal pillars glowed a dapple blue. The room was circular, with five pillars around the outer edge, and a set of round stairs in the center that lead up to a small platform where a pedestal sat. Across the floor were complex incantations and tangled designs that swept around the room and up the stairs. The incantations wrapped around the room from the outer edge and in towards the pedestal like vines of silver and gold. They were written in the old language and were a mix of pictographs and words.

Kailo and Mason entered the room and slowly approached the pedestal. Mason took a deep breath – as deep as he could at this elevation, and waved his hand overtop the pedestal. His fingers danced across the cold, hard surface, tapping rune inscriptions.

In a moment, the room began to shift and change. The doorway disappeared, then the walls, stairs until only the crystals and pedestal remained. Like a picture being painted, a new image came into focus. On the other side of the pedestal now stood Stuka – the Orc who had taken his place at the Academy in Draden. Beside him was Rebecca, his handler.

“Hello Rebecca, it’s good to see you,” Mason began, “What can I do for you?”

“Its good to see you too, Mason,” She smiled. “It seems we have a problem.”

Mason noticed Stuka was silent, his head down and his gaze on the floor. Never before had Mason seen an Orc look so deflated. Sadness, or maybe shame was painted on his face. It hit Mason in the gut. ‘Has he done something wrong?’ Mason thought to himself.

“What has he done?” Kailo asked with lazy ire.

“Nothing!” Rebecca replied, brushing her silver hair behind one ear. “He seems to be homesick.” She continued. Her smile faded and was replaced with confusion.

“Homesick.” Kailo repeated.

Though the words came out flat, Mason knew Kailo was getting more annoyed by the second. Orc’s rarely got sick, and when they did it was usually minor, this hardly seemed worth a summon.

“We’re unsure why it took so long to become a problem, just that he’s been depressed, refuses to eat, and hasn’t shown up to his post several times.” Rebecca asked.

“Really,” Kailo huffed, “behaving so shamefully.”

Rebecca grimaced, unsure what to say.

“Why was I asked here?” Mason finally asked.

“Since we’re sending Stuka back home,” Rebecca started.

“I’m being sent back too, correct?” Mason finished.

“Yes. I’m afraid so. I know you signed up for a year, but it can’t be avoided,” She replied.

“I’m sorry.” Stuka said, looking up. He took a moment to gaze at both Mason and Kailo.

“That’s unfortunate,” Mason sighed, “I’ve enjoyed my time here. It’s a shame it’s come to an end so quickly.” He struggled to hide his disappointment. He was promised fifteen months, he was barely in his seventh.

“I’m sorry.” Stuka repeated.

“Don’t be.” Mason replied, “If you’re homesick, there’s nothing to be done.”

“I appreciate your understanding, Mason.” Rebecca chimed in.

“When must Mason return?” Kailo inquired.

“Since your people do not like your borders crossed without escort, you’ll have to make the trek by foot as usual. I believe that takes five days to get from your city to the island port?”

“That’s right.” Kailo nodded.

“Is there no way around that?” Rebecca said.

“It’s only five days, I’m sure he’ll be fine.” Kailo replied gruffly.

“Very well. You will need to leave tomorrow then, Mason.” Rebecca said, turning her attention to the young man. “We will meet you at the island in five days and complete the exchange.”

“I think it’s best if we don’t tell others why you are returning.” Kailo said, addressing Stuka.

“Yeah…” Stuka muttered.

Rebecca tapped the pedestal on her end, like Mason had done earlier. In a moment the room went dark and returned to normal.

“What to do first?” Mason smiled, looking up at Kailo, “Should I pack my things or tell the students?” His smile hid his disappointment well. His gut turned and twisted with sadness.

“Go back to your class, finish your lesson, and then tell them.” Kailo replied. He didn’t look back at Mason.

Most of the class was disappointed by the news. Despite Mason being two decades younger than the youngest Orc, he had earned their trust and respect over the last seven months. He – and they – had enjoyed learning about magic defense, hand-to-hand combat, and the differences between Vrogmian and Human societies. Most of all, they were impressed that Mason could hold his liquor – for a human.

With hesitation, Mason had agreed to one last night of food and drink as a send-off, and the dining hall was packed. Though not everyone was there for him, many from his class had shown up to drink, laugh and tell tall tales.

It was nearing midnight when Kailo made his way over to Mason. He had spent most of the night at the bar, simply watching. Standing at the end of the table, he looked at the Orc’s sitting around and chatting, and told them to leave. As the table cleared, he took a seat across from Mason and leaned back in the chair, with a mug full of beer in hand.

“I am sorry to see you go,” He said before taking a swig of ale. “You have been the least high strung human to be a part of the exchange program.” He felt stupid, embarrassed.

“That can’t possibly be true.” Mason snorted, “My first week here I punched a student in the throat.”

Kailo howled with laughter, remember the incident. “I never did ask why you punched him in the throat.” He said, his chest still bobbing up and down.

“Of course you do, I had to file a report, remember?” Mason said, confused.

“No, I mean… why the throat?” He took another swig from his mug, grinning.

“I was too short to reach his head.” Mason said matter-of-factly.

Kailo let out another bellow of laughter. Mason had never seen him so expressive, and was still confused by what was going on.

“But I was!” Mason cried.

Kailo was knelt over the table, drunk, laughing and spilling his drink. It took a few minutes for him to regain his composure and sit up straight.

“He wasn’t listening.” Mason said, crossing his arms. “Said I was a stupid human and he wasn’t going to take orders from me.”

“So you punched him.”

“I was asserting my authority.” Mason replied, a smile forming on his face. “He never argued with me again, and has attended all my classes.”

“You caused a few more commotions too, but you’ve still done better than any other human. You’ve tried to integrate into our way of life, it seems.”

Mason took a long gulp from his mug and sat in silence. He had never had the chance to talk to the other exchanges before he left Draden, so this was the first time he had heard about past experiences.

“Isn’t that the point?” Mason asked. “Integrate, learn, be a part of something different?”

“Yes, but not all humans saw it that way.”

“Well I did damnit!” Mason said, slamming his mug on the table with a bit more force than he had intended.

“You’re drunk, aren’t you?” Kailo asked, eyeing Mason.

“I’ll miss you too.” Mason admitted.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I am very drunk. That’s why I said that. I won’t remember it tomorrow.”

“I never said I’d miss you.” Kailo said cocking an eyebrow. “I only said I was sorry to see you go. You had – have – and uncanny ability to adapt. You learned to fit in around here.”

“Uh-huh.” Mason nodded with certainty.

“You should head back to your quarters soon, you still have to pack.” Kailo chugged the last of his ale and set the mug down on the table, “we’ll be leaving early in the morning, and I will drag your ass out of bed if I have to.”

“I believe you.”

Kailo stood up and took a moment to catch his balance. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, least of all Mason, but after twelve mugs of ale and no food, he was pretty drunk too.

“I’m heading home now, good night.”

“Good night.” Mason answered, “I’ll head home in a few minutes.”

Kailo left the room and Mason sat for a long time watching the fireplace; the embers crackling and glowing. He thought about everything, but mostly about the last seven months. He thought about the time and effort it had taken to be accepted into the program, the fun he had, and the homesickness. There wasn’t a lot he missed about Draden, but he did miss his mother and his sister quite a bit.

It wasn’t easy for him to admit to himself, but the first six weeks in Vromog had been rough on him. He had thought about ending the program early and asking to go home, but convinced himself to push through it. To his surprise, it had paid off.

Morning came too quickly. Mason had to pull himself out of bed with effort. Drinking the night before had been a bad idea, and staying up so late to pack his things had been a worse idea. In the end, he had been able to get all his things together – not that he had brought much – and he was ready to go. With a good four hours of sleep under his belt, he was ready to get underway.

As if someone had read his mind, he heard a familiar rap at his door. Grudak. Shit. He had been so drunk and distracted last night he hadn’t stopped by Grudaks home to say goodbye.

Mason opened the heavy wooden door to see his friend standing there, thick brown eyebrows furrowed.

“I hear you are leaving today.” He said, clenching his jaw.

“You knew I was leaving today. I told you that yesterday.” Mason replied, trying to avoid the issue.

The low light of the corridor cast hard shadows across Grudaks sharp face. He was over a foot taller than Mason, but shorter and bulkier than Kailo. His bald head was tattooed with a tribal pattern that extended down his face and neck and worked its way across his muscular chest. The blackness of the ink mixed with the shadows made his body seemingly disappear, forcing Mason to look at his bright hazel eyes. He felt a pang in his stomach as he looked at the giant.

“I… yeah.” Mason dropped his gaze to the ground. “I got drunk last night, I forgot to stop by. I wandered home.”

“You should have tried harder to remember.” Grudak growled, balling his fists.

“I know,” Mason began.

“I’m not here to make you feel like shit, though. I’m here to tell you I will be going with you and Kailo to the port.”

Masons head jerked up to look Grudak over. “Why?” He asked.

“Because you are my friend, and I will see you off whether you like it or not.”

“It’s five days journey, Grudak.”

“I know.”

“You need to pack, then.”

“I’m ready to go. I came to get you.”

“Oh, well then, I don’t want to keep you waiting!” Mason remarked jokingly. He grabbed his bag that he had left by the door and followed Grudak down the hallway.

Getting out of the mountain city was a challenge in itself. Vromog had been built over six hundred years prior to the catastrophe. Though it wasn’t intended to be a haven for the Orc tribes, it would be the only city to see itself through the fires that engulfed the lowlands on the other side of the mountains. The entrance was a deep and massive cavern at the base of the atrium that exited to the side of the mountain, and ran down to the valley below. From the cavern entrance you could see the whole valley, where the Orc tribes grew crops. There was a large river that ran through the valley, providing fresh water to the town that sat in the middle of the fields. On the far side, where the mountains picked back up, rising from the earth, was the female Orc city of Vreema.

From the entrance, Mason and his two companions had to travel down to the lowlands, and head east through the fields. This would lead them out of the valley and towards the ocean where the port lay.

The first two days were the roughest, climbing up and down hill after hill, and making their way the dense forest that covered the foothills. If it had not been for the Orc-built stairs he had been forced to climb every day for the last seven months, he would have collapsed from exhaustion on the first day. As they approached the first campsite – just as the sun was beginning to set – all he had to complain about was being tired and the smell of sweat.

Mason took the job of unpacking the furs they would use to sleep under at night and set them up around the fire pit. Kailo was unpacking the food they would need for the night, as well as canteens of water and beer he had brought with him. Grudak had volunteered to collect the firewood, and walked off silently into the woods.

The campsite was located at the top of a hill that looked back at the mountains they had ventured from, and sloped down on the other side to the plains they would have to cross tomorrow. Aside from a few small bushes around the perimeter and a large, old tree off to the side of their campsite, the area was fairly open. When Kailo had finished unpacking what he needed, he hung the gear from the tree.

Before Grudak could come back from collecting firewood, Kailo took the time to speak with Mason.

“I know you humans think that Orc’s don’t have feelings,” Kailo said abruptly, “But we do, and you should have taken time to say farewell to Grudak the other night.”

Mason, who was sitting on his fur, looked at the ground and began to stroke the fur. His fingers running through the soft hairs as he thought about what Kailo had said.

“I got drunk, I forgot.” He took a deep breath and held it for a moment. He knew what he had said sounded stupid.

“You can’t undo that mistake,” Kailo continued.

“Then why bring it up?” Mason asked, still playing with the fur.

“You can make it up to him by thanking him for coming along. Its’ been two days and you’ve barely spoken to him.”

“Something else I forgot to do.” Mason huffed.

“I may have only known you for the last seven months, Mason, but its’ unlike you do be so,” He thought about it. “Inconsiderate? Is that the human word?”

“You can just say I’ve been a cunt. You’d be correct.”

“What’s wrong?” Kailo sat down and crossed his legs. “Are you ok?”

“No, I’m not ok. I’m being called back from this assignment. I was promised a full year, and I didn’t get it.” Mason lay down on the fur, his arm under his head and looked over at Kailo. “I’m pissed off. They didn’t have to recall me.”

“Can’t you just ask to do the exchange next year?” Kailo inquired.

“I can,” Mason stressed, “But I would have to be accepted again, and they would have to push another candidate back a year.”

“That doesn’t seem like such a huge deal.” Kailo shrugged.

“They – the people in charge of the program – would see it as unfair to others who wished to participate. It would be a special consideration; I doubt they’d approve it though.”

“They might make an exception. I could ask on your behalf if it would help.”

“Maybe.” Mason rubbed his eyes; he didn’t want to think about it anymore.

Grudak returned shortly after Kailo and Mason’s conversation and started a fire. The sun had mostly set behind them – the last rays of orange sweeping across the horizon and fading into a canopy of blue and black, dotted with the faint light of stars.

The food Kailo prepared was simple for this trip. Tonight and tomorrow they would have fish from the river, cooked without spices over the fire, carrots, turnip and potatoes fired in a pan and water or beer to drink. Mason chose water.

“Grudak,” Mason began as he picked away at his meal, “I am sorry for not saying goodbye to you properly.”

“I know you are.” Grudak replied acting like it was no big deal.

“I’m glad you came along.”

“I wanted to see my friend off is all.” He gave Mason a firm slap on the back.

“Thank you.” Mason smiled. “I’m hoping to come back next year.”

“That would be great.” Grudak beamed.

“If they agree, we can figure out who can drink the most beer, last time was a draw!” Mason joked.

“You’re a tiny human,” Grudak poked Mason’s arm, “You’ll be under the table after four drinks!”

“Oh really?” Mason feigned offence. “I remember we both ended up under the table last time without knowing who won.”

“Oh course you two forget it will be me dragging your drunk asses back home.” Kailo injected, shaking his head.

“You like weight training, think of it as a workout.” Mason joked.

“You could use a bit more training,” Grudak continued, “You’ve gotten soft around the edges since you became a handler.” He laughed.

“Watch it!” Kailo sneered, “I work out every day, I have not gone soft!”

Mason pointed his fork at Kailo, “Sounds like something a soft man would say, if you ask me.” He looked over at Grudak who nodded in agreement.

“You two are such asses.” Kailo grumbled as he picked away at the food on his plate.

“I have a great ass.” Mason grinned.

“As do I.” Grudak replied.

After finishing dinner, the dishes and utensils were cleaned and packed away. The rest of the supplies were hoisted into the tree with everything else, and the three men slipped under their furs and went to sleep.

There were only three more days until Mason would return to his former life. He would be back at the academy and returning to his teaching. He would get to see his family again, shop in the market and eat the familiar foods he grew up with, yet the only thing he looked forward to was seeing his mother and sister again.

Kailo, Grudak and Stuka would return to Vromog; return to their own lives. Mason wanted to believe he would see them again, but a nagging feeling in the back of his mind said this was it. He wouldn’t get a second chance at the exchange. He should make the most of the last few days with his friends.

The next three days were spent chatting and walking. Mason told stories about home, about being in Vromog, and practiced his Orcane; though both Kailo and Grudak begged him to stop bastardizing their mother-tongue.

The island of Amaryllis – named after the flowers that grew in abundance there – sat quietly off the coast in the afternoon sun. The day was warm and the ocean air was crisp at the port. A small wharf or rock and wood stretched out into the ocean, with two small boats on either side. The area had once been a town, though it had burned down long ago, and the area abandoned to nature. The only things that remained were the wharf and a few small rock foundations; the rest was overgrown with weeds, grass and vines.

“You’ll have to stay here.” Kailo said to Grudak.

“I know, I’ll keep an eye on things here, and make sure we’re ready for the trip back.” He replied before turning to Mason. “Safe travels, and see you next year.” He grinned.

“I certainly hope so. Its’ been good to get away from Draden, we live such a confined life there. Aside from Vrogma, we rarely have contact with the mainland.” He replied. “plus,” he added, “Orc’s have better alcohol.” He laughed.

Grudak knelt down and wrapped his massive arms around Mason. He picked him up and gave him a firm squeeze before setting him back down.

“You assume I’ll make it alive,” Mason wheezed, staggering to keep his balance.

“That was a weak hug, just for you.” Grudak laughed.

“Oh, well, thank you for taking my fragile body into consideration.” Mason smiled. It had hurt though.

“We need to head out.” Kailo interrupted. He was already in the boat.

“Okay.” Mason said. He gave Grudak on last look, slapped him on the arm and made his way to the boat.

The boat ride took almost an hour using the small sails to propel it across the water, but they made it to Amaryllis as the sun started to make its way to the horizon. When they arrived, Mason could make out two figures waiting for them up the hill from the port – one was obviously Stuka, though Mason couldn’t make out the other figure.

As they approached the two Mason could make out more details from the human, it wasn’t Rebecca like he had anticipated, but Delia, a councilwoman. She was standing tall in a violet gown, draped in her official sashes and wearing a lacy lilac scarf with decorative broaches pinned to one side. She was, in a word, stately.

“Councilwoman Delia, I wasn’t expecting you.” Mason said as he approached.

“This is an unusual situation, the council decided it was best that I personally handled it.” She replied.

It made no difference who met them here, Masons final reports about the exchange would pass through her, and he would like have had to give an exit interview as well. The council probably thought it was easier to cut out the middleman.

“Stuka, how are you feeling?” Kailo asked. It came out harsher than it should have.

Stuka stood there, head lowered, fiddling with a metal bracelet on his arm. Mason could feel the shame emanating from the man.

“I just want to go home.” Stuka said. His voice was stark and low.

There was something in the air, Mason could feel it. He figured it was the tension between Kailo and Stuka; this would reflect badly on the Orc and his clan if they found out he was homesick. But at the back of his mind, there was something more, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Is there nothing more you can tell me?” Kailo asked Delia, jolting Mason back to reality.

“I’m afraid not,” she sighed, “we have done our best to make him comfortable in Draden, but sometimes these things simply don’t work out.”

“That’s too bad,” Kailo replied, “I’m sure our council will have many questions.”

Mason felt strange, like the hairs on his neck began to stand on end; a strange swath of energy faintly registering with him. He looked at Delia and Kailo who were still talking, though noticed Delia’s attention was divided; did she sense it too? He looked at Stuka who was still playing with the bracelet on his arm, trying to avoid the conversation. Is it my imagination? Mason thought. Does Delia sense this? What is going on?

As if Mother Nature herself had taken notice of his question, orange arcs of lightning shot from smaller nearby islands and came at the group. Stuka’s reflexes were as quick as Mason’s and he grabbed Delia by the arm and pulled her behind him. At the same time, Mason quickly called a shield spell to protect them from the blasts, but it was too late. The lightning blew through shield like a knife through butter and landed striking blows. The four of them were caught in the chain reaction as the energy danced from one person to the next. The shock from the bolts ripped through their bodies like fire; a pain so strong is quickly left their bodies heaps of pulsing flesh.

Mason could see from the corner of his eyes the stilted breathing of the others, each of them gasping to stay alive – and awake. The power that had struck them had been too much though, and within moments, each of them faded into unconsciousness.

#Orc #Orcs #Ork #Orks #Gay #LGBT #Gay Romance #Romance #Novel #Chapter 1 #Story #My Stuff #My Writing #Review Me #Fantasy #FantasyPunk #Magic

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spaceorphan18 · 7 years

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Chris’s Tour - Naperville, IL 7-18-17

(Otherwise known as my birthday present :))

I see @wowbright - is posting her photos today (yay)! I didn’t have photos, sorry guys. But hopefully I’ll have a decent account.

So @multsicorn came to visit me for a few days, which was absolutely delightful. We had a nice drive to Chicago listening to Glee music, because of course. (We also had a splendid chat on the way home). We met up with the lovely @notthatbea (at a Barnes and Noble where my old store manager works now apparently - small world). And delivered in a lovely box was one of @snarkyhag‘s many gifts - a bingo card for the tour. It’s funny - except for a few spaces - there were all pretty much filled during the event.

So - we went out to this lunch where we had bison burgers and they gave us these pickled cucumbers -- they were too vinegar-y to be cucumbers but not pickled enough to be pickles. It was interesting. And then we went to an icecream place that sold raw cookie dough and it was amazing. Afterwards we met up with @leydhawk and @wowbright, who are both amazing and kind, and we had a nice chat while we stood in line for two hours.

The event - Chris came out, all relaxed and happy (and looking good - he looks better every year I see him - and Snarky untucked I mean c’mon). His opening speech was a little more scripted than it was the previous year (or practiced as I’m sure he says the same lines at ever event) but he was still funny and charming, and of course it’s all new to the majority of the audience. He then read a part of his book - and was more animated, getting into the voices more, than when he read last year. He was have a great time acting out all the parts of his story.

Oh also! He takes a selfie as he always did. But first, he took a photo of the crowd. He held his camera up - and bam - Notthatbea and I are probably, like, upfront and close in that photo. Cause we were sitting four rows back, but he held it up a little (so not to get the first row in the shot) and we’re pretty sure our faces are front and center. Also - in Alla’s shot of the crowd, you can totally make out the five of us who were there!

I believe the trivia stuff was next. The one thing about this that I remember is that there’s a portion where the kids could try to stump Chris. There was one little boy who pointed out a continuity error (The Pied Piper is named one thing in book 2 (?) and something else in book 6 - and the kid asked why that was.) Chris just stood there hilariously dumbfounded and speechless (in a good way), and claimed that he needed to reread his books more. It was a fun little moment. Also - as notthatbea reported - during this section we learned that the original title for book 6 was Happily Forever After.

The costume contest was next. A sweet girl in a Cinderella costume won. There was also an amazing Cyborg Queen costume (that came in second imo) and Morina - who’s horns kept falling off (poor girl - she had a great costume though. Chris, as usual, delighted at everyone, as I’m sure this is one of his favorite portions. We had two rows of kids go up there - and most of them were really awesome costumes.

Now - okay - there was one really awkward moment, though, during this. The people from the news site that shall not be named were there and in the front row (I know it was them because they took video over everything, claimed it was their own stuff, and posted it on their site - even though Chris’s people explicitly told us not to take video). Two of the posse got up for the costume contest. One of them was wearing a ‘likes boys’ tshirt, and was obviously supposed to be Kurt. The other one was dressed as kind of a hipster - I have no idea what they were going for - I don’t think it was anyone in TLoS. Anyway - omg - second hand embarrassment. Chris - amazing that he is - ignored them completely. (This is also why he pretty much ignored the entire front row the entire night despite them throwing comments out to him throughout the night.) I don’t know what they were trying to do pulling that - but c’mon. But what can I expect from people deliberately ignoring his wishes.

Anyway -- then we got the Q and A session, which was much, much longer than last year - it was nearly twenty minutes long. And, cause my memory is perfect, here’s what came up:

A girl asked that if he wasn’t doing a movie, would he consider doing a musical. He deadpanned a no, but then said it would have been a possibility. He also mentioned that he was ‘in talks about something but then they stopped talking’. I don’t know if this was TLoS related or not though.

He was asked if he would appear in the movies (like Stan Lee!) and he said maybe as a troll or something, but he doesn’t want to play a major role.

Someone asked how many publisher rejections he got for Wishing Spell. (And his face was like, dayum, okay...) But he mentioned that being on TV helped with that, so he got zero. But he did have to convince the publisher that he could write.

His movie is going to be live action with real people (though he joked that ‘real people’ is a matter of opinion as well)

The acting v writing question again - and he said his standard I love them both answer, though he did remark that people keep wanting him to choose one but he really can’t.

A 12yo girl asked what his favorite Glee performance was. This time he answered Lucky Star cause he got to fly around. Also - he and June Squibb are still besties. :)

A unique question - someone asked if he knew anything about the TLoS characters that weren’t in the book. It stumped him for a little bit, then said he had ideas for a prequel series, so he didn’t want to give much away. But apparently there was a lot of drama with the fairy council. Also - Mother Goose’s magic is not what it seems - and he hopes he lives long enough to eventually tell that story, lol.

Someone asked about casting - and Chris said they haven’t found anyone yet - but then he goes on to say that it’s strange when his job is looking at pictures of 10yos all day. (Out of context, the way he said it sounded really creepy, and made me laugh)

A little 9yo asked what inspired him to start writing TLoS - and mostly the standard answer about his mom reading fairy tales to him, and her getting fed up with all the questions so she told him to write them himself - but he directed the answer right to her, and spoke in a way relating to her, so it was sweet.

A girl asked about when he wrote while on Glee - and he gave his usual story about being on tour and writing a page and then running up to sing - though he made the story a little longer this time, and mentioned DSB, I Wanna Hold Your Hand, and then Single Ladies. (Usually he just mentions Single Ladies). (as an aside - he mentions that everyone else was just kind of going out and doing things as he stayed in and wrote - so huh)

Will there be multiple movies - he hopes so, but they’re going to focus on one at a time. He joked with the little girl asking, though, that it was her responsibility now to make sure the first movie does well so she needs to go out and spread the word - and if it fails, totally her fault, lol

Which book was his favorite to write - Stranger Than Fanfiction has been his absolute favorite (this surprised me), but then book 5 was his favorite in TLoS series because he got to use his own original stories he made up as a kid. The next question was kind of a follow up - where he was asked, which of those was his favorite. And he can’t really choose (3 way tie between the three he made up as a kid). Galaxy Queen is the one he created recently for book 5, but the rest were stories he made up when he was a kid.

How’d he get the names Alex and Conner - same kind of answer as usual, Alex was originally Amy after a cousin, but then there was a new cousin named Alex. Conner was from a character he played in community theater.

Will he write more books like Starbordia? - Maybe? It’s a possible spin off idea. (Side note - he didn’t sound that interested in the idea though)

Favorite books growing up - Harry Potter, of course, but Alice in Wonderland, Peter Pan - and he mentions Eva Ibbotson, who I’m not familiar with - but who is a British author who writes a lot of young, young children books (I’d say stuff for 6-9yos)

Conner and Alex are both him, and the arguments they have are like arguments he has in his head.

Someone asked him to sing - of course he said no, and that if he did it for one, he’d have to do it for all of them, and that’s just too much pressure. Then, the front row yelled that he had a voice like an angel - to which he replied that his dog and cat don’t feel the same way cause they run out of the room when he starts singing. He did say, to the original person asking, and the audience in general, that he was happy that people enjoyed his voice.

Alright - so then this delightful 13yo girl, who was a bit Red-like, came up and basically pitched herself as an actress who’d be happy to be in his movie. It was hilarious. He asked if she’d be happy being a tree - and she said yes, and that her people will contact him. Her question, though, was about how Glee impacted his writing. And he joked that Glee made him so famous, that he couldn’t leave his house, so he had nothing better to do than write. But more so, he talked about how acting helped him hear the voices of his characters better. But also that writing helped with acting, so you can create backstory for your characters.

What is he most excited to do, regarding the movies? He’s super excited about walking out on sets and seeing these places he only imagined become real.

What songs does he listen to while writing? Film scores!! Including Danny Elfman and, my personal favorite which I totally listen to all the time to write, y’all know this, Hans Zimmer.

So yeah - that’s the Q and A. He was very sweet and engaged during the entire thing, which was awesome to see.

He wrapped up by doing another reading, this time from the Mother Goose diaries. The thing that stuck out to me about this was that he was reading an entry about Amelia Earheart - where she said she faked her own death and went away to an island because fame got too much for her, and she wanted to live peacefully away from everything for the rest of her days. (hmm - Chris....)

So that’s the event! It’s always a delight to see him - and I know he loves these events more than the signings - he’s just so thrilled to be there, and there’s a ton of excitement over the film.

After that, we all headed back home. Was a great time, and a great birthday. :)

#chris colfer #do I have a tag for the signings? I'll have to check that out

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monkeyandelf · 7 years

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New Post has been published on Buzz News from Monkey & Elf |

New Post has been published on https://www.monkeyandelf.com/why-we-should-consider-banning-social-media/

Why We Should Consider Banning Social Media

On December 3, 2017, 23-year-old Canadian porn actress August Ames became embroiled in a Tweet storm that would drive her to take her own life two days later. Her decision to drop out of a scene that she was scheduled to do with a male “crossover” performer (a guy who has sex with both men and women on camera) was perceived as homophobic by the masses of angry human beings that lurk on Twitter, even though she has appeared in many dozens of scenes with other women. Her ownership of a stance that others disagree with provoked a furious backlash.

One crossover star, Jaxton Wheeler, tweeted “the world is awaiting your apology or for you to swallow a cyanide pill. Either or we’ll take it” and he was backed up by an online lynch mob who peppered her with abuse and insults. On December 5 she sent out her final Tweet—”fuck y’all”—and was discovered by her husband, porn director Kevin Moore, soon after. Silicon Valley might peddle utopian propaganda that frames social media as some sort of dreamy promised land where information is freely shared and connections made for the purposes of our collective enlightenment, but over the past couple of years it has become abundantly clear that it has become an utter cesspit and the death of August Ames is a far more accurate representation of the reality of internet discourse. This is why, in my opinion, we should consider banning social media.

JGI / Tom Grill / Getty Images

Although August’s death cannot solely be attributed to Twitter—indeed, Ms. Ames was candid about her battles with depression and the sexual abuse she suffered as a child, so she was quite clearly a particularly vulnerable individual—I firmly believe that had this incident happened 15 years ago, she would still be alive. As someone prone to making controversial, provocative statements, I’ve endured a sizable share of abuse online. Just several weeks ago an old article that I wrote pondering whether Japan might be the world’s most overrated travel destination got a second wind of life, and I opened Twitter to find over 100 notifications from disgruntled Japanophiles who took issue with the fact that I voiced an opinion that they disagreed with.

For hours new notifications kept rolling in, many of which contained insults and ridicule rather than reasonable rebuttals or well-thought out counterpoints. Their tone was overwhelmingly combative. Now I don’t expect any sympathy because I knowingly brought such a reaction upon myself, but even as someone who gets a kick out of poking people in the eye, I couldn’t help but feel the back of my neck tense up every time a new flurry of tweets came my way.

just being so candid and one with nature and my phone and shit omg vegans amirite 🌸

A post shared by August Ames (@msmaplefever) on Sep 10, 2017 at 9:25pm PDT

Social media platforms are designed to mimic slot machines as a way of getting users addicted to them. As a result, overstimulation on social media feels like sensory overload. I couldn’t help but feel mildly overwhelmed and a degree of aversion began to creep in. There’s something about Twitter that made all this hate feel much louder than a silent notification icon at the bottom of my iPhone screen. If someone with a lot less Twitter followers, much less of a profile and not nearly as many issues as August Ames can feel themselves begin to look away, I can only imagine how cornered she must have felt. Communication before social media lacked that instantaneousness; there was a buffer that made it seem more distant. Maybe Twitter and its users can’t conclusively be blamed for Ames’s death, but they can’t absolve their conscience completely.

I’m sure there are those who would accuse me of hysterically overreacting, but this is so much bigger than a solitary tragedy: over the past couple years we’ve seen social media distort our very perception of reality as it became a vehicle for fake news. Russian spy factories weaponized social media during the Brexit referendum in Britain and throughout the U.S. presidential election in order to undermine the western political order. Soon after Donald Trump’s victory, The Guardian pondered whether the Internet has become a failed state. Peer down the wormhole of Breitbart or 4chan or the myriad of misogynistic subreddits out there and it becomes quite clear that it has. Social media may have enabled mild conveniences but many are beginning to question whether we’ve reached a tipping point where it causes more harm than it’s worth.

lil snowflake

A post shared by August Ames (@msmaplefever) on Aug 6, 2017 at 10:21pm PDT

But it’s not only the alt-right that have turned online discourse into a mud wrestling match in a puddle of proverbial diarrhea: supposedly high-minded social justice warrior types are clearly just as odious. After all, it wasn’t neo-fascists that drove Ms. Ames to her death, but people who seem to believe in tolerance so intensely that they’re willing to mentally lynch someone that deviates from their world view. Rather than spewing bile, Ames was ham-handedly referencing the fact that that gay and bisexual men make up a much greater proportion of HIV infection — roughly 70%, to be exact. This isn’t homophobia, it’s a scientific fact: HIV is 18 times more transmissible via anal penetration than vaginal sex. Her wording may have been untactful, but it was by no means hateful, yet she was bullied to death by people who would probably claim to have a deep concern for other human beings.

This shows that the cruelty that’s so rampant on social media has nothing to do with political affiliation. The anonymity and detachment from reality facilitated by the Internet clearly brings out a profound cruelty that lurks in the dark recesses of human nature, one that the light of an smartphone screen cannot illuminate.

To those who would disagree with me, I posit the question: why shouldn’t we ban social media? What have social media platforms added to human civilization that’s so indispensable that we should simply shrug off the fact that it makes the democratic process vulnerable to tampering by foreign agents? Snapchat filters, perhaps? Do the benefits of Timehop really outweigh the erosion of human civilization by fake news? Facebook might save us money on long distance phone calls because we’re able to stay in touch with distant friends and relatives, but it allows allows firms like Cambridge Analytica to harvest our most intimate personal data and use it to wage psychological warfare via those very same platforms that gave them said data in the first place. Bit of a crap trade-off, if you ask me.

A post shared by Kylie (@kyliejenner) on Sep 7, 2017 at 2:43pm PDT

Seriously, ask yourself: who has really benefited from the rise of social media? Silicon Valley robber barons, unremarkable influencers who’ve managed to monetize their minimal talents, marketers who are now able to invade our consciousness with targeted ads that most of us invest concerted effort into avoiding and, of course, the unimaginative masses who have nothing better to do with their lives than record inane Instagram stories that are forgotten quicker than they can disappear. The gains, by any measure, aren’t enough to offset society’s collective loss of dignity.

Of course I’m not naive enough to think that a social media ban will ever happen. We haven’t even been able to make a break with fossil fuels despite the fact that it’s making our planet uninhabitable. Money speaks louder than the sound of a thousand trolls shitposting in unison. The best we can hope for is that all decent human beings on social media decide to sign out permanently once the stench emanating from this raging dumpster fire becomes too much to endure any longer. That said, though, don’t forget to follow me on Twitter.

Next up; here’s how to stop procrastinating online.

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studiomaya · 7 years

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The Story Grid Adventure!

At the start of September I alluded to a new development that I’ve been working on all summer long. I’ve been reading, analyzing, and otherwise prepping for an exciting change of direction for my writing life.

I’m a big fan of the Story Grid podcast, featuring editor Shawn Coyne and book marketer and writer Tim Grahl. Together they present an hour of deep editing work every week, and I’ve been an obsessive listener for nearly two years. I’ve taken writing classes and talked to editors and writers about their methods for cutting a book and getting it into shape, but as an inveterate pantser (read: I can’t outline to save my life), I’ve never been able to find a method that would help me to preserve my direct line to the Muse while ensuring that I don’t dance off into the sunset with non-productive scenes featuring hand-wringing and sighs of woe. I’ve explored all kinds of methods for planning a novel, and none of them work.

The Story Grid works, because it leaves me alone to write, while keeping me on track. It’s brilliant.

In May, I took a deep breath and signed up for the Story Grid Editing Certification workshop in Nashville. I knew that Story Grid was going to be my editing weapon as I worked through my plans to write and publish, but I wanted more. More, more, more. I wanted to live and breathe this stuff for a week alongside other Story nerds. But this was a change for me. It was a plane ride, a hotel stay, and an investment in my writing life as a career, not a hobby. I was leaving people at home to take over my various responsibilities. I was assigned homework–lots of reading and scene analysis that we would be discussing live in the classroom.

So despite reading the Story Grid text and spending many months obsessively listening to the podcast, I was nervous.

Why should I be nervous, right? This is a workshop like any other. I’ll learn, make friends, and develop the Story Grid tools that I’ve come to respect and use in my own work.

The “workshop like any other” part is complete garbage. This isn’t a workshop like any other.

First of all, the cast of characters is different. Shawn Coyne is the kind of experienced, successful New York editor who would have dashed off one of my many rejections back in the day. Tim Grahl is a book marketer who understands the marketplace for the literary arts, something I’m afraid I’ll never be able to do, but must learn if I want writing to be a career. They intimidate the heck out of me.

Second, I love listening to the podcast because I feel I can actually hear the creative process happening. Some have told me that they find it hard to implement the Story Grid methodology because the podcast feels vague. I don’t feel that way at all. The conversation between Tim and Shawn echoes what goes on in my head, except that Shawn brings structure to it. I can’t believe I’m going to actually be in that conversation!

Third, I think imposter syndrome is the single biggest obstacle to any kind of creative work. And ridiculously (just look at this website!), I’m afraid that maybe I’m just a fraud.

I’ll let y’all know how it goes. I’m posting this in the spirit of sharing…but I’m nervous!

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nofomoartworld · 7 years

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Hyperallergic: Required Reading

A Norwegian anti-immigrant group has been ridiculed after members apparently mistook a photograph of six empty bus seats posted on its Facebook page for a group of women wearing burqas. Insanity ensued. (via Nettavisen and Guardian)

Emily Nussbaum rewatched The Apprentice and has a lot to say:

As it happens, most episodes of Trump on “The Apprentice” are curiously hard to find: they’re not available to stream or download. Only first-season DVDs are for sale, legally, online—and only used ones. The show is not at the Paley Center for Media’s research library, either. (M-G-M, which owns the rights, declined to comment.) To watch, you’ll need occult methods. But at the Paley you can catch something nearly as illuminating: a video of a panel discussion about the show, from 2004, following its first season. It was filmed the day after “The Apprentice” lost the Emmy for best reality show to “The Amazing Race.” The moderator is the “Access Hollywood” host Billy Bush, who, a year later, played Trump’s wingman in the pussy-grabbing tape.

People are raving about the new movie Dunkirk, but Yasmin Khan reminds us that the colonized people of the British Empire were erased from the film:

Yet Britain’s fixation with the war doesn’t do justice to the complexity of the subject. The focus on Britain “standing alone” sometimes risks diminishing how the war brought pain in many places, right across the globe. The war, especially when viewed from the East, was about two empires locking horns rather than a nation taking on fascism. Above all, the narrative of a plucky island nation beating back the Germans omits the imperial dimension of the war. Many people living in the colonies were caught up in a vicious conflict beyond their control.

Jörg Colberg considers the form and function of photo books. He writes:

To begin with, for me there is something deeply satisfying about handling a well made book. You would imagine that books per se don’t have much, if any, character. After all, they’re just a bunch of pages held together by a cover (case). But it really goes beyond that. Given we have to touch photobooks when we look at them, we feel how that handle. We feel how they react to us turning their pages. We feel how easy or difficult the handling is.

For me, the key is not to get an incredibly fancy and/or elaborate photobook into my hands. Instead, I derive deep pleasure from photobooks where the form of the object and its intended function work together. That could be a fancy photobook, or it could be some very basic, cheaply printed book. In other words, the point that I want to make here and in the following articles is simply to point out what happens when everything comes together well. I have not been involved in the making of any of these books, so my discussions are going to be based on what I see as working.

Golf magazine has an extensive article on Trump and his favorite sport, and this shocking quote (emphasis mine):

He has his own cottage adjacent to the pool; it was recently given a secure perimeter by the Secret Service, leading to the inevitable joke that it’s the only wall Trump has successfully built. Chatting with some members before a recent round of golf, he explained his frequent appearances: “That White House is a real dump.” (A White House spokesperson denies this occurred.)

McSweeney’s treatment of the chaotic White House as an episode of the West Wing tv series and it’s quite funny:

RUSSIA

This plot line has been dragging on for months. How could it be possible that the various puzzle pieces still don’t fit together to prove the President’s traitorous relationship with Vladimir Putin? It’s getting ridiculous. We don’t need another Josh and Donna will-they-or-won’t-they. Let’s resolve this, writers!

What is digital blackface and what does it mean? None of this conversation is new but this is a clear article about the topic:

Now, I’m not suggesting that white and nonblack people refrain from ever circulating a black person’s image for amusement or otherwise (except maybe lynching photos, Emmett Till’s casket, and videos of cops killing us, y’all can stop cycling those, thanks). There’s no prescriptive or proscriptive step-by-step rulebook to follow, nobody’s coming to take GIFs away. But no digital behavior exists in a deracialized vacuum. We all need to be cognizant of what we share, how we share, and to what extent that sharing dramatizes preexisting racial formulas inherited from “real life.” The Internet isn’t a fantasy — it’s real life.

The reviewers of the new “affordable” Tesla car are cooing. Writing for Futurism, Karla Lant says:

“It’s not so much that Tesla is ushering in the future,” Holley argued. “After riding in the Model 3, I’m more inclined to think that Tesla is single-handedly pulling the automotive industry into the present — the way anyone born before the Internet thought 2017 would look like decades earlier.”

The future of fake news is terrifying. Have a look:

You only have to look at the University of Washington’s Synthesizing Obama project, where they took the audio from one of Obama’s speeches and used it to animate his face in an entirely different video with incredible accuracy (thanks to training a recurrent neural network with hours of footage), to get a sense of how insidious these adulterations can be.

Beyond fake news there are many other implications, said Nitesh Saxena, associate professor and research director of the University of Alabama at Birmingham’s department of computer science. “You could leave fake voice messages posing as someone’s mum. Or defame someone and post the audio samples online.”

After the announcement this week that the Attorney General’s office will pursue case of supposed discrimination against white applicants to college, many people were scratching their heads. One tweeter address the myth that many black people in the US go to college for free. It’s a excellent thread:

Do you know how many white people truly and genuinely believe that black people get to go to college for free?

— Ashley C. Ford (@iSmashFizzle) August 2, 2017

A chilling 43-tweet thread about the slave trade on ISIS territory by Lebanese journalist Jenn Moussa:

1/ When I was in Syria, ISIS women told me how Yazidi slaves had to endure virginity tests, rapes &jealous ISIS wives. Thread in English. https://t.co/buqrTtnN1F

— Jenan Moussa (@jenanmoussa) August 3, 2017

An easy to understand illustrated guide to gender, as told by science (PDF, 19MB) h/t @notcolloquial

Drone v. cat:

The origins of the “1980s” aesthetic:

Required Reading is published every Sunday morning ET, and is comprised of a short list of art-related links to long-form articles, videos, blog posts, or photo essays worth a second look.

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