#ill update with max's link soon

[youngsamanda]

pet illness tw // hi everyone please disregard my deadname/government name on the link but i am left with little choice but to make a gofundme for my little maltese named luna. we took her to the vet today and they believe her cancer is spreading/recommend we get the surgery for her asap. my mom and i are pretty much out of options besides care credit which for those who don’t know is just a credit card for vet bills. my mom is almost at her max limit on it due to luna’s dental surgery last year and any shares + donations would help greatly! i still have commissions open and will be getting to them soon if anyone is interested PLEASE let me know i am desperate! luna means the world to me and i don’t know what i’d do without her in my life. i will be updating this post and the gofundme as much as i possibly can. 

gofundme link

[looking-for-wisdom]

Bleeding Hearts (chapter one)

a/n: this was a fic I did for the @grishaversebigbang! It ended up being roughly 33,000 words, the longest fic I’ve ever written. I loved participating in this event and working with my gang as well as the tides :)

Corporalki: @villainofthepiece​, @dregstrash 

Materialki: @bucumber​ X, @koelsong​ X [art may contain spoilers]

Summary:   Zoya has spent her life learning to survive a world of fairy tales. She knows better to rely on wishes and fate; those things only protected the nice girls, the ones all the stories were about. She was used to doing whatever gruesome task was needed to get by, but now, with her aunt’s life on the line, she has finally met a monster she’s struggling to beat. A monster that comes in the shape of a kind prince she can’t help to grow attached to. 

But that’s always been the case. The monsters are what you find when happiness is just within reach. But she’s strong and she won’t falter— she’ll do what’s needed, as she always has before, to save the only good woman she’s ever known. Even if it means plunging a knife into the heart of the first man she’s ever loved. Even if it means becoming a monster herself.

Ao3 Link: Bleeding Hearts

(chapter one under the cut)

What becomes of the girls whose parents do not teach them unwavering kindness and whose fairy godmothers are not magic enough to keep them from harm? What becomes of the girls the slipper doesn’t fit and the prince does not steal away from drowning in cruelty? There is no happy ending promised at the close of their story. So they learn, learn to swim through the abuse and lift a sword themselves, lest they become another maggot filled body in the graveyard.

Zoya had read the kind of stories where young women overcame their evil stepmothers with their obedience and compassion. Unfortunately, Zoya had no stepmother, just one horrible regular mother who had birthed her and spent every moment after shaping her daughter into an equally horrible side character in someone else’s story. It wasn’t that she was immune to draw of fairy tales and their promises of futures with a prince who called her lovely, but not every girl had that in her cards. Zoya glanced over the hand she’d been dealt. She was not sweet or innocent enough to be the damsel in distress. The game of fate was rigged— with every girl who was saved from misery a hundred others suffered in her stead. 

Shivering but far too afraid to risk asking her mother for a place by the fire, the childish part of her hoped. Winter’s might be less harsh if she was not so alone and unloved. But compassion was a rationed resource, like medicine and wheat. It might have been nice to have, but girls with no one to fight for them had to choose their battles, and unlike bread, kindness didn’t keep her alive. 

Sabina Garin had been wealthy once, many years ago, and like most who had never seen sacrifice, she underestimated its sting. It was easy to be fearless when one had never felt real fear in the first place. 

When her father had passed his inheritance had been split equally between his two daughters. Lilyana, the eldest sister had invested in a plot of land at the edge of town where she kept a small garden and a chicken coop. She built a home there, selling vegetables and eggs in town when she was in need of money, and she was happy. 

With her own cut, Sabina enjoyed the same luxuries she had in her youth. Seeing no appeal in farm work the way her sister did she resided in the house that had belonged to her father. At nineteen she married a handsome man with nothing to his name but a winning smile, and for a while, she was happy as well. At least, until the debt hit. 

Marriage for love is an appealing prospect, but the stories never talk about the bloody endings. No one mentions the way he yells when the money runs out. No one mentions the way she hoards the few jewels she has left because they’re the only thing that makes her feel like herself. No one mentions when the house is taken and she’s bloated and raging from the parasite inside her but he is nowhere to be found.

Sabina’s episodes began not long into her pregnancy. With no trace of her husband and no place to stay but an abandoned stone cottage at the edge of town it wasn’t long before she became unpredictable. It was a miracle that the child made it to its due date in the first place, though one could say it would be the first of many times Lilyana Garin would come to her niece’s aid. 

She had offered her sister help on many occasions, but Sabina had repeatedly refused Lilyana’s generosity. Pride, after all, was the only thing she had left. When Sabina became a danger to herself, however, the older daughter could stay away no longer. Though Sabina had no way of paying the housemaid who had worked for her father, Lilyana ensured she stayed the nine months until the child’s birth, hiding knives from the expecting mother and restraining her hands when she desperately clawed at her body until the skin was nearly gone. For months Lilyana held her breath, praying that her sister might be stabilized and the child would survive. 

And against all odds, her prayers were answered. 

The midwife said the birth went by with relative ease. The mother and child both handled the process exceptionally well. The only oddity was when she asked the mother for a name. Sabina had only sneered. “Call it what you will. It makes no difference to me.”

For the sake of simplicity, the midwife had given the child a placeholder name of sorts, at least until her mother came to her senses. She’d call her Zoya, just until Sabina saw fit to name the girl herself. 

She never did. 

So perhaps if it had been Zoya’s mother who fell ill, she wouldn’t have agreed to the witch’s terms. She couldn’t have cared less for her absentee mother, but when a letter reached Os Alta it brought news of the closest thing to family she’d ever had. 

Her young cousin, Lada, had written of her mother’s condition-- Lilyana had grown feverish and weak. The town’s medics estimated she had two weeks to live.

Desperation had a strange way of sending people deep into the woods where good, honest people lost their morals somewhere in the darkness. It had a way of turning skeptics into the arms of witches. But when it came to saving Lilyana’s life, nothing was too high a cost. Kill the prince. Carve out his heart and leave his body bleeding on the floor. Zoya wasn’t a killer, but a few towns away one of the few good people left in the world was dying. Zoya would have given her soul away a thousand times if Lilyana lived. 

The main square of town jittered with anticipation. The feeling filled Zoya’s chest, clamping down on her lungs and stealing away her breath. Gossip was sweet on the lips of housewives and young maidens, like the juice of an apple after taking a bite. Zoya was no fool; she knew what was on their minds. A few months earlier, the young prince Nikolai had proposed-- but not to a distant princess or nobleman's daughter. He’d given the ring to an orphan girl with no prospects or riches. Faces lit with hope and perhaps a bit of envy whenever they spoke of the prince’s fiance. She’d been from a town just carriage rides away from Os Alta. It could have been any of them. But yesterday, news had come that the girl had left Os Alta for good, leaving the promises of riches and romance behind her. Not a single person could figure out why. 

She’d been given a shot at a storybook ending. Zoya wasn’t gullible enough to believe her life would have been perfect, but when she thought of what her own future held, even she couldn’t help a pang of irritation. She would have taken wealth in a heartbeat over her fate. She shifted the basket she carried up onto her shoulder, the weight of it exhausting her arm at a rapid pace. With her other hand she lifted her skirts in a futile attempt to keep the mud from seeping into the fabric as it dragged along the ground. As she walked she overheard elated conversations.

“They say she was beautiful-- hair like starlight and a smile like the sun. It’s surreal, honestly, that some everyday girl won over a prince. She must be quite something,” said a girl she’d met only in passing, to a young blonde woman at the baker’s stand. Then, with a cheeky smile, added, “Maybe I'll find myself a princess soon with my winning looks.” 

Across the way a middle aged woman shared her own thoughts on the matter with her daughter. “Perhaps if you spent less time fooling around that could have been us! We’d have been rich, you idiotic girl!—”

Despite herself, Zoya felt a familiar chill go down her back.

Tiny people, wrapped up in their tiny lives, bound to accomplish tiny things. For perhaps the first time ever Zoya envied them. At the end of the city’s main road, after dozens of wooden merchant stands and civilians homes, were the woods. Travel in Ravka was unavoidable, but most families stuck within the cities borders as much as possible. The forests on the outskirts of town were places of darkness and witchcraft beyond the understanding of the standard civilian. However, there were ways to make navigating the woods less dangerous. Old wives tales said to carry black tea leaves in one’s left shoe or bury a lock of hair in the dirt before beginning your journey. Most nonbelievers opted for a professional guide. 

Zoya had no guide as she found her way between the brush and trees, though, nor was her shoe supplied with tea leaves. Her travels through the woods were not a situation of point A to point B. 

Zoya intended to find a witch. 

An hour in, Zoya had acquired a multitude of new cuts up her arms from low hanging branches and nearly destroyed what was left of her skirt by snagging it on thorn coated weeds. She’d also come across at least fifteen new types of bug she’d never seen before and honestly could have gone her whole life without. Zoya had learned to hold her own against all sorts of dangers growing up in Pachina, but that didn’t make her any less disgusted by the grimes and grudge of the Ravkan forest. 

She dragged onwards, a cool sweat gathering on her forehead and regrets filling her mind. Of course— hundreds of people go missing every year without any explanation and yet the one time she goes looking for trouble the death forest decides to be a normal lot of trees. Typical. 

“Don’t know how to handle someone who doesn’t fear you? Is that it?” She called out to no one in particular. “I didn’t realize witches were such cowards.”

Or perhaps she was just a stupid child, looking for magic where it didn’t exist. Perhaps those people had simply been mauled and eaten by bears and she was the idiot trying to be the next. 

The sun passed over the sky as she became more and more hopelessly lost in a forest where she seemed to be the only inhabitant. Honestly, witches had no respect for willing customers these days. She only realized just how much time had passed when dusk began to fall. Night was coming, and she had no idea how to get back to the city. It was one thing to be in the forest during the light of day, but trapped in the darkness with no food or water was something else entirely. 

The moon shone a sickening white glare onto the black dirt floor, seeming to take all the pigment from her skin. Zoya hadn’t been afraid of the dark for many years, but there was something… off about the way the darkness felt here, as if it was alive and feeding on any sort of life. Goosebumps rose on her skin, and she tensed, waiting for something horrible but not knowing what. 

She stood, frozen, listening for any sound other than her own shallow breathing. But nothing moved, not even tree branches in the wind. She was alone. 

Which made it all the more terrifying when someone spoke. 

“What could possibly bring a lone girl to the woods at night?” said a molasses smooth voice from behind her. 

Zoya spun around and was greeted by a pale faced man with dark hair who was far too close for her to not have noticed his approach. Every instinct in her mind screamed to back up, but she forced her legs to stay in place. She would not be intimidated. She met the man’s void black eyes with a fearsome stare. “I’m searching for a witch with the kind of magic to help me,” she stated, voice like steel. “Tell me, would you fit that description?”

A sly smile curled across his face and sent a chill down her spine.

 “That depends,” he crooned, “what can you offer me in return, Zoya Nazyalensky of Pachina?”

Zoya felt a certain sort of dread sink into her chest. There was something wrong with this man-- he knew things he shouldn’t. She should have been afraid, but a morbid part of her was drawn to it. 

She wondered, despite herself, what would it be like to be him? She’d never feel small with a power like that at her disposal. She’d never be made a fool of. For a moment, the swell of her envy almost overpowered her reason, but then she thought of Lilyana. She was not here to find a way to be rid of her own weaknesses. Zoya shook the initial fog of his presence from her mind and reminded herself that for once, she would not be selfish. 

“What is it you want?” she retorted.

His smile did not falter as he considered. He slipped past her, like an ink spill with legs, so that she had to turn to keep sight of his face. Her eyebrows furrowed together in confusion as he walked away from her, but just as she was about to call out for him to stop he paused and glanced back at her. “Well?” he asked. “Are you coming?”

Her mind was empty of a response, perhaps still caught up on the absurdity of what she was doing. Her legs, thankfully, had instincts of their own and carried her forward when he began walking again so she didn’t lose sight of him in the darkness. He led her through the trees, as if he was navigating a maze for which only he had the map. As lost as she’d already felt, it was nothing compared to the lack of an internal compass she had now. The forest had consumed her completely. 

This was insane. Her mind ran rampant with possibilities as the silence between them grew longer. She’d be murdered by this demon of the woods and no one would even hear her scream as he dismembered her. She should run while she still had the chance. 

Except, if she ran Liliyana died. 

So, she kept walking. They entered a clearing of land. At the center of the plot was a looming mansion of black stone and though Zoya was no expert on the woods, she had spent the day wandering its depths and knew for certain the building had not been there before. This man’s magic was dark, but it was also powerful-- she needed powerful. The dark haired man led her to the tall doorway of the structure and held open the wooden door. “We can discuss terms inside.”

She hesitated for just a beat. This could very well be the room in which he planned to butcher her and bake her liver into a pie. She considered this man she knew nothing about and what he was offering. If there was even the smallest chance he could help her, she had to take it. 

There was no going back. She stepped through the door frame and into the home of a witch.

Whatever she had expected, this was not it. She remembered the tale of witches with homes of candy to lure in naive children. She had thought she’d see cages filled with starving creatures and cobweb covered jars holding various gruesome substances. She had thought there would be a cauldron to brew potions that would cure dying aunts. To her surprise, though, there was nothing of the sort. The floors were a sleek black tile and the walls were covered in bookcases filled to the brim with titles in languages she didn’t understand. Golden lamps hung down from the ceiling, casting a warm light onto the sleek table in the center of the room filled with well kept paper and an ink well. Tapestries of the night sky made with painstaking care hung as the rooms most prominent decor. 

If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought she’d wandered into the home of one of Ravka’s most wealthy nobles. 

She swung around to face the man, who had been observing her carefully since her first step into the room. “First things first, who exactly are you?” She asked, eyes narrowed. 

“Names are a powerful thing, Zoya,” he answered as he walked towards the desk at the center of the room. Something about the way he moved reminded her of black silk. “For now, you can call me The Darkling.”

Her lips pulled together in a tight line and placed a hand on her hips. For a moment she considered calling him out on his pretentiousness-- what kind of title was “The Darkling”-- but she restrained herself. In the grand scheme of things his name hardly mattered, and angering him didn’t strike her as the best way to get what she wanted.

He took a seat at the desk and gestured to the chair directly across from him. Smoothing her skirt as she sat down, she felt almost like she was at a business meeting in the town square and not trying to make a blood deal. “I’ve heard that magic can do things science can’t. Buildings are created without any regard for physics and wounds that normally kill are healed in a split second,” she began, an authority in her voice that she hoped hid the fact there was no real power behind it. “My aunt is ill. The doctors say there’s nothing to be done, but that is the opinion of a medic, not a magician. Can you save her?”

A certain rage sparked within her when he didn’t look her in the eye. She didn’t have the time to waste on a man who could do nothing for her. She had already lost a day to the woods, and here he sat, unimpressed and hardly listening. Part of her wanted to get up and leave right then and there if he wasn’t going to give her request the dignity it deserved, but she stayed seated, waiting. 

He spoke then. “I can,” Zoya’s breath caught half way in her throat. Hope crawled into her lungs and left no room for breath, “but it will cost you.” 

“I don’t care,” she responded, not missing a beat. “I’ll trade my life for hers, just name the price.”

He wasn’t smiling, but Zoya could almost see the grin in his eyes and felt like she’d just walked into a hunter’s snare. “I know you’re afraid of me, Zoya,” he said, and though she wanted to insist that some stranger in the woods didn’t scare her, her words fell flat, “but I have known you for much longer than you believe. Your familiar with a blade, aren’t you?”

Zoya swallowed the lump rising in her throat and nodded. When she was young she’d studied swordplay when her mother was away. Soldiers left home to begin their training at fourteen in Ravka, and for a girl whose home had been anything but stable, it had been an appealing opportunity. The issue was, the army was for men only. She’d hoped they’d see her skill and immediately make an exception, but when she was finally old enough to enlist she’d been turned away at the gate. 

How this witch knew that was beyond her. “I believe we can help one another. For you, I will not only return your aunt to health, but also give you the chance to pursue your dream,” he continued. “All I ask in return is that you rid Ravka of what is standing in our way. The Lantsov line has held this country back far too long-- I plan to lead us into the future, and I’ll need a general by my side. The only thing you need to do is get rid of the old crook’s heir.”

Zoya could barely breathe. It was all too good to be true-- first he’d claimed he could help Liliyana and then he’d promised her what she’d dreamed of since childhood.  She would have taken the deal in a heartbeat if he wasn’t asking her to commit treason in return.

“Vasily,” she breathed, but he only shook his head. 

“He’s not nearly competent enough to be a concern. Talents like yours should be spent on a real threat. The king’s second born, Nikolai, is much more clever than his brother,” said the Darkling. “I know you don’t trust me yet, but my intentions are good. You, of all people, have seen the state of this nation-- the hardship it’s people face. You and I are very similar: ambitious, strong,  and intelligent. We can change things.”

She chewed her lip and shifted in her seat, weighing the pros and cons. Zoya was many things, but she wasn’t a murderer. 

At least, not yet. 

Her rejection from the army had allowed her to keep her hands blood free until now. It wasn’t that she had any compassion for the prince, but there was nothing noble about slaughtering an unknowing victim. The honor of serving her country and protecting her people against an enemy who would kill her if she didn’t end them first was vastly different than what he was asking her to do. 

In the end, the morality of the proposal didn’t matter. If it was one life to save another, Liliyana was more important. The only question was whether or not The Darkling had any credibility to his offer. It was true she barely knew him, but for the first time since she had first encountered him he seemed fully sincere. A tug in her gut told her he was right. She didn’t know if they were as similar as he claimed, but something deep inside her made her believe his love for Ravka was as real as her own. 

And if he was telling the truth about that, then he was probably true in his claim that he could heal her aunt, too. Or, at the very least, she had to believe it was true. She feared she would not be presented with another opportunity like this.

It was the best chance she had, even if it would make a killer out of her. She stared him down, taking in the room that had appeared from nothing. “I’ll do it.”

She could repent her sin later by aiding this man in his journey to lead Ravka into an age of prosperity. That was for later, though. For now, Zoya just needed a plan.

The Darkling smiled knowingly, but as far as she could tell it was not mocking. Looking away for only a moment, he pulled a quill from somewhere she couldn’t see and handed it to her. 

“Find your way into the castle and get close to the prince. Trust will make him foolish. If you need to contact me, use that quill. The ink will find its way back to me. When it is time to put the plan into motion I will contact you. Until then, keep your wits about you.”

“Wait--” she interrupted, afraid he’d simply dissipate after giving his orders. “How am I supposed to infiltrate the palace? They don’t just allow anyone inside.”

“Nikolai has been in need of a new Etherialki for a few weeks now,” he answered, unphased. She tried not to wonder what kind of spies he must already have under the Lantsovs’ noses to have that kind of information. “You will be filling the position.” 

The servants of the Lantsov family were divided into three orders: Coporalki, Etherealki, and Materialki. Coporalki had a tendency to remain in the palace. They were responsible for keeping the palace functioning properly and were trained in the art of medicine. Materialki was the class of any sort of specialist working within the Lantsov’s walls. From chefs, to tailors, to blacksmiths, each played their part in making up the artisans category. 

Etherealki were traveling companions to the royal family and whatever rich guest happened to be staying with them. They accompanied their charge from dawn till dusk, braving and complication of man or nature along the way.They were known to think on their feet to quickly amend any problem their employer might encounter. It was, without a doubt, the most fitting role for Zoya’s skill set.

 “What about my aunt? She might not last long enough for whatever you’re planning to be ready.”

“There’s no need to worry-- deliver your end of our agreement and I swear to you that your aunt will live.”

He extended a hand towards her and she examined him one last time. Growing up, she’d been told to never trust witches, and here she stood, going into business with one. If life had taught her anything, it was that the worst monsters aren’t always supernatural in nature. For all intents and purposes, the Darkling seemed to have good intentions. More than that, he had the power to save her aunt. 

From every angle, Zoya came out of this deal with what she wanted. 

She held his gaze and took his palm in a firm handshake before gathering her things and heading back into town.

[starryfreckles]

so I guess it’s out ! the lovely tasfia @sonderthroughthestreets and i have been working on this mega project for a couple weeks now to bring to you wtFOCK season 4 but through moyo’s pov with a story we’ve written in the form of screenplays clip by clip released in real time. we’ve also worked closely with fae @jensrolt and max @kesdebues for story and music as well. i really hope you are as excited as we are.

logistics - most of it will take place in these daily screenplays posted to my blog at any time of day ((following belgium’s time zone)) but there may also be instas or descriptions of other social media content, we’re not quite sure yet. basically anything we have time for as we both have classes and exams and stuff, however, we have written a couple episodes in advance so clips and weekly episodes should not be a problem. 

on friday’s full episodes ((a compilation of that week’s screenplays)) will be posted on tasfia’s ao3 if you prefer to read everything together. I’ll be creating a master list of every episode and their clips, here, on my tumblr. there will also be links to the previous and next clip but those will be updated when i wake up as i am pst (belgium, france, norway -9) and many will happen when i am asleep.

disclaimer - we would also like to mention that while the two of us are woc we are not from belgium nor Black so if there is anything incorrect or offensive please do not hesitate to reach out to either of us. we just want to create something that should have been made this season to address different topics and representation for poc. the filmmaker in me really wanted to stay true to the skam format that i fell in love with 4 years ago now so its not going to be your ‘traditional’ screenplay because there will be music and camera movements and emotions/internal monologues.

i think we also need to stress that this has nothing to do with the wtFOCK production team and is fanfiction.

topics to be covered and trigger warnings - topics that will be explored in this “season” include: racism, sexism, homophobia, mental illness. we will have trigger warnings for these at the beginning of every clip and full episodes (on ao3). if there are potentially anymore trigger warnings you would like us to include, please message one of us. we just want everyone to feel safe.

#wtFIRE nation - ((the hashtag will make sense very very soon)) hope to see you following along ! we’d love to hear your thoughts and theories 🤡 and all your questions! feel free to send them to myself or tasfia @sonderthroughthestreets ⚡️💗 hugs and kusjes ✨🤍

oh yea and theres a spotify playlist that will be updated as clips and their songs are released

[authorgeek]

...Well, at least I’m Vaccinated, right?

The American Healthcare System is deadly. This is another health/life update.

As I write this, my mother is making phone calls on my behalf, just as she has my whole life. I got out of the ER yesterday and from picking up my medications at the pharmacy, to canceling my counselor today because of a sudden drop in coverage - the reason I didn’t want to/hesitate to pursue mental healthcare in the first place - every moment for the last four years have been overshadowed by my chronic illness. The last year more so than ever as I continuously say no to gatherings and meetings and leaving my home. A constant reminder of what we’ve been through, about how it impacts me specifically, and another round of the negative energy that comes from having those same conversations in an endless cycle. 

1) I am flaring and very much tied to my own home and our restroom. This last trip to the ER a few days ago put me on yet another round of steroids and soon enough I should be feeling physically better in a while after rest (hahaha), gentle diet, and time. Goodbye spring break, hello IVs and 3am blood draws. My nurses were angels btw. Thank you to all the healthcare providers who stepped in to begin getting me back on track.

2) Scheduling my last classes of Zoom Uni and drs is still hell. I have Zoom calls on top of Zoom calls between class and therapy (at least up until now) and trying to establish and create relationships with new Dr.s, a process that has made my and my family’s life a living hell since moving from campus and back, insurance battles, address and paperwork changes, prescription and test orders - something has been overly complicated, slowed down, held back...etc at every step of the way.

3) My mother - bless her - to sainthood - has been fighting on all our behalf at EVERY MOMENT. But she should NEVER have to put herself through this. I hate watching her do this, sit on calls, listen and watch as we get juggled from one department to another over and over like a carnival ride because no one will stop and help us. It is so painful to watch, and it is so endlessly frustrating to pick up and begin again and again day in and day out. She constantly tells me its her job and that she’s going to keep it up as long as I need - but I still know she never should have to go to bat for me like this and I hate it. I really really hate it.

4) Stuck at home, hospitalized, med changes, this all feels like I’ve time traveled a bit back to the very first days while being diagnosed. I feel a lot of old emotions coming back, a lot of unhealed childhood trauma I was never allowed to properly work through because life, and all its other crisis got in the way one at a time. As far as my mental health has been going, I haven’t felt this way since I was a young teenager, just entering high school after being housebound for 7th grade because I was too sick for a conventional school setting. It’s been crushing, and heavy, and I just feel...guilty...that other people have had to put up with me while I fight through this fog and watch. There is very little they can do, and it’s always awful to know the people who care about me feel as helpless to be there for me as I feel in general. Of course, these are the kinds of things I’ve been talking to my therapist about. Even while I am writing this, we are in  the process of leaping over that particular hurdle on the long racetrack we’ve been running. I wanted therapy. I need mental health assistance. And we’re going to fight to keep this same provider and keep jumping through all the right hoops.

5) All this to say - I’m not the only one dealing with this and that makes it worse because NO ONE should. And if something doesn’t break? If something isn’t radically changed, it’s going to result in loss of even more lives of people like me. Possibly me. I know people hate to hear this and I hate to say it - but “COVID only impacts the elderly and those with preexisting conditions” is complete and utter Bull. All you’ve said is that you don’t care about those communities of people. About my community. About me. These clerical errors, working from out of office, communication breakdowns, have ALL been exacerbated by a global pandemic that was so horribly mismanaged it’s resulted in this mess. I wonder how much higher the death toll would be if we calculated the lack of mental health resources, errors made on the admin. side due to these circumstances - how much bigger a number would we be looking at, and what do we do to change it - and to put in preventative measures against it ever happening again.

A fantastic way you guys can support me right now - if you’re wondering after reading all of this - is through my redbubble shop, even just sharing the link to the page means a lot. I’ll hopefully have some new designs up to share with you all soon. I’m going to try my best to go a bit radio silent for a while. I’m going to continue reading, painting, gardening, and doing classwork because that’s my current capacity. That’s me running at MAX, and while that may not sound like much it’s all I’ve got right now. I’m tired beyond words, I don’t really even want to keep writing about this any more. So, if you guys are messaging/trying to get a hold of me, thank you in advance for your patience. I may not be able to respond right away. The new term just started and I spent most of my break in the hospital so I gently ask that I take some time alone, for me. Thank you all - for your encouragement and love you’ve sent my way during this year, and for forever. I love you all for it.

[quicksilversquared]

Lost Heart: Chapter 7

Gabriel Part 4: Turning Point

Magic can be a dangerous thing to play around with, particularly when that magic is tangled up in a curse. When Nathalie Sancoeur experiments with magic that she doesn’t fully understand, it sends her on a path to become Paris’ most dangerous supervillain and tips the balance between superheroes and supervillain.

But which way will the balance fall?

links in the reblog

                                           tumblr why did you get rid of page breaks

Gabriel was not having a good day.

He hadn't had a good day in a while, he reflected as he watched his latest akuma get his tail (literally) handed to him. Despite his best attempts, the akuma had ended up underpowered and underwhelming.

Nathalie hadn't even bothered to check in on him or issue any directions for the akuma to carry out for once. Clearly she saw it as the lost cause that it was and had decided to focus on her work. She would greet him with scathing silence as soon as he stepped foot back in the office.

"This is getting worse," Hawkmoth grumbled as soon as he felt the power from his akuma release. He had long since given up on the dramatic monologues at the end of the battles. Before, he had done that to amp himself up and keep his spirits up for the next fight. Now…

Well, he just didn't have the energy. The akuma attacks had been dragging on for over a year now and he wasn't any closer to winning and curing Emilie. Gabriel was stressed all the time, and it was no wonder. Between his constantly failing akuma, Nathalie's increasingly iron-handed rule and the need to keep her change secret from Adrien, being sent out to battle the increasingly powerful superheroes himself, and Emilie's condition, it was… well, a lot.

It was no wonder that he was descending into the underground lair more and more often, trying to get away from- well, not trying to get away from it all, since Emilie was down there, but trying to get away from most of it. The slow beeping of the monitor kept him from ever forgetting for long how very ill Emilie was now.

She had been declining ever since she fell into the magical coma, there was no denying that. But ever since Nathalie had started transforming- and especially since Nathalie had gone heartless and the transformations got more frequent- the decline had sped up. Now Gabriel worried that one day he would go down and be greeted by silence.

Having the Miraculous and casting his wish would reverse that, of course. But the fact was that there was a price to using the Ladybug and Black Cat together to get a wish, and if Emilie actually died then he worried that the price would be higher.

With the press of a few buttons, Gabriel headed straight from the attic lair to the basement one. He stepped out into the space, pausing to make sure that there was still beeping before making a beeline to the small park bathed in pale sunlight.

Emilie still slept, pale and still as ever.

"Emilie, I failed again," Gabriel told her, reaching out to gather up the flowers that lay near her feet. They had wilted already. It seemed that none of the bouquets that he got for Emilie ever lasted, no matter what he did. Whether it was something in the lair itself or simply the magic that surrounded Emilie, Gabriel didn't know. "This akuma was awful. It didn't even make the slightest threat to Ladybug and Chat Noir. They didn't pull out any of their extra powers, and the fight was over before it had even started."

Emilie didn't respond. Gabriel sighed as he pushed open the glass cover, reaching in to squeeze Emilie's hand. Once upon a time, she would have reflexively squeezed back.

It had been a long time since then.

He couldn't stay with Emilie for too long. Gabriel knew from experience that if he lingered, Nathalie would get angry with him for spending too much time dreaming and not enough doing.

It wasn't fair for her to accuse him of that. How many men in Paris could say that they would be willing to become a supervillain and dabble in magic in order to move heaven and earth to save her? Not many. Just because he hadn't been successful yet…

Some days, Gabriel worried that he had missed his window of opportunity. If he had figured out how to boost an akuma's powers earlier on, before Ladybug and Chat Noir started pulling in help and combining powers, then it would have been easier to win. If he had gone out himself then, maybe he could have tipped the balance in his favor.

But now Ladybug and Chat Noir were experienced fighters with an array of powers on hand, and whenever he came out then they could slip away and get another person, keeping two of them fighting the akuma while one of the more experienced fighters held him off. They could kick back the akuma enough for some breathing room if Hawkmoth managed to overpower whoever was fighting him, which was mortifying.

They were two teens, Gabriel could tell that much. They shouldn't be outfighting and outmaneuvering him. But they were.

Nathalie simply sent him a disgusted look when Gabriel returned to the office. Gabriel tried not to look affected as he returned to his desk, pulling out a bag of Nooroo's snacks, but he couldn't help but wonder what kinds of improvements Nathalie was dreaming up for the next attack. No doubt she would have him going out more again, as punishment for the weak akuma.

He couldn't simply recall the akuma, she had to know that. It drained Nooroo, and then the second akuma villain wouldn't be anywhere near as powerful as the first. They had tried that, and it had failed. The best he could do was detransform, recharge, and try again, hoping that the first supervillain had worn Ladybug and Chat Noir down. He would be on high alert for the rest of the day for that very reason.

The rest of the afternoon dragged by. Gabriel was always aware of where Nathalie was, and it was exhausting. He could feel invisible eyes judging him, sizing him up, and her icy judgment clogged the room. By the time Adrien came home, Gabriel was glad for the excuse to leave the increasingly oppressive room for a few minutes to update Adrien on a few events that were coming up and inquire about any projects or tests at school that might require more leeway in his schedule.

And Adrien seemed happy enough to provide that distraction. He lit up when Gabriel inquired about school, and soon enough was prattling on about some review game that he had played in one of his classes. Gabriel tried not to sigh in boredom (after all, what did he care about some silly classroom study game?), since as soon as Adrien picked up on any sort of exasperation he would stop talking and Gabriel would have to return to the office with Nathalie.

Was it bad for Gabriel to only be accommodating Adrien because it benefited himself? Maybe. But this whole mess had only happened because Gabriel was trying to make their family whole again, and that would have made Adrien happy.

He preferred to think of it as short-term selfish, long-term selfless. Besides, did it really matter why Gabriel was doing it, if it made Adrien happy?

Still, Adrien's story didn't last long enough. He caught himself and brought the story to a quick end before heading off to his room, shouldering his school bag and hurrying along to get started on his homework. Gabriel waited until he heard Adrien's door close before heading back into the office.

A file folder waited on his desk. Gabriel resisted the urge to sigh when he noticed that no, it wasn't company-related. Instead, it was another copy of the extensive spreadsheet of potential power-ups and improvements that he could make, this time with several areas highlighted.

He had to do better next time and push both himself and the akuma to the max. If he didn't, Gabriel didn't even want to know what Nathalie would do. There had been too many failures lately, too many mistakes, and it was wearing on what little patience she still had.

He had to be better, before her iron hand came down on him even harder.

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 This akuma was decent. It had good superpowers and seemed to have a good mind for fighting. Hawkmoth smiled as he watched the news feed. Ladybug and Chat Noir seemed to be on the defensive, trying to keep the akuma contained but not quite succeeding.

"Good," Mayura said, appearing behind Hawkmoth. His smile promptly vanished. Her tone was anything but good. "The akuma is doing well. Go help it."

There was no arguing with Mayura. Hawkmoth nodded, jumping up to the hole in the window and pulling himself out. Before he could leave, though, Mayura spoke again.

"Put in your earpiece before you get too far away. I'll direct."

Hawkmoth nodded, but he couldn't help the way that his stomach dropped. Whenever Mayura took over as the director of a fight, it meant that the fight would be rougher than it would be otherwise. She saw retreat as only an emergency option, pushing him until he had nothing else to give. He should have gone out on his own terms as soon as he saw his akuma doing well.

He hadn't even realized before- back when he was in control of his own akumas and the battles- how much he enjoyed the security of knowing that he could stop the attacks from going too far and could quit any time. Now, there was no backing out when things started going sideways.

Hawkmoth had two options now: succeed, or go down in flames and spend the rest of his life in jail.

"I'll watch all of the footage and let you know where the superheroes are and what the akuma is doing. It'll not always be in your view." Mayura waved him off. "Now go, before Ladybug and Chat Noir figure out how to counter the akuma."

Hawkmoth went. He circled around so that he wouldn't be coming directly from the mansion- even Mayura could agree that that was important- and then went directly for Ladybug as she raced up behind his akuma.

Wait, no- not Ladybug, exactly. Dragon Bug, Ladybug's apparent favorite Miraculous combo. The one that gave her a sword.

Maybe she wasn't trained with the weapon, but that didn't stop her from being a incredibly fierce fighter with it.

"You didn't warn me that Ladybug had added a Miraculous!" Hawkmoth snapped into his earpiece. "When did she leave?"

"The feed didn't show that," Mayura snapped right back at him. "But she couldn't have been gone for long- a minute at most. Which doesn't make sense- they're nowhere near where they were the last time when they got extra Miraculous and were only gone for a minute. The Guardian must be meeting them."

"He's got to be around here, then. I could look for him-"

"Don't bother. He could be anyone, and he could be wearing a disguise."

"I have a name, though-"

"If you think that someone like that wouldn't be using an alias, you're an idiot. Stop waiting around and get in there."

Hawkmoth nodded, though Mayura couldn't see him. Seconds later, he plunged into the fight.

Ladybug noticed him first, yelling a warning to Chat Noir before charging straight at Hawkmoth. Their swords crossed with enough force to make his jaw rattle, and then she was pushing him back, fire in her eyes. He tried to knock her aside- it shouldn't have been hard, he had done it before- but she stood firm, countering all of his blows.

She had been training, it was undeniable. Gabriel wished that he could improve that quickly, but he just didn't have the time. She was actually pushing him back now, even though she was a good head and a half- if not two heads- shorter than he was.

That was actually infuriating when he thought about it that way. She was a tiny bug to be tossed to the side, and instead she was standing firm in her attack and in his way of reaching his goal.

It wasn't long before he noticed a blue feather floating towards them, and Hawkmoth accepted it eagerly, this time envisioning his protector taking the shape of a peacock. A peacock could peck and bite and flap its wings, not just blow the superheroes around like the moth did.

A gigantic blue peacock swirled into being, and both Ladybug and Chat Noir swore. Hawkmoth smirked.

Victory, here he came.

Seamlessly, Ladybug and Chat Noir switched places, the cat headed for Hawkmoth while Ladybug turned her focus to the akuma and the peacock. Hawkmoth couldn't deny that Chat Noir was a good fighter- and he also couldn't deny that the change in fighting style threw him off, just a bit- and so he had to put his full attention on the superhero, ignoring whatever was going on with the rest of the fight.

Which meant that he was surprised when the akuma fled and suddenly Ladybug was tussling with the peacock, her outfit changed again to something that was half-dotted, half striped. She leapt up onto the peacock's back and it squawked, thrashing around to try to throw her off. Several more seconds of wrestling, and it dissolved in blue smoke with a final screech.

How.

Chat Noir threw Hawkmoth back, and he stumbled as he landed. The superheroes were racing off after the akuma, and Hawkmoth gave chase. He pressed his earpiece. "Mayura, your protector has been defeated."

"I know that, I felt it." Mayura sounded displeased. "Birds are vulnerable to a cat's claws, unfortunately."

"But Ladybug was the one to take it down," Hawkmoth objected. He frowned, trying to think of the other Miraculous that he had seen in the grimoire. "The Tiger! Somehow, she switched from a Ladybug-Dragon combo to a Ladybug-Tiger combo."

"And she switched quickly," Mayura commented. "The Guardian must live nearby. I'll start assembling a list of people residing in the area."

"Fantastic."

"And don't let this opportunity slip away. Go after the superheroes and take them down."

If the words hadn't been delivered with such ice, they might have actually been encouraging. Instead, they sat like lead on his shoulders, the unspoken threat hanging in the air above his head.

Succeed, or we'll do something else. Something terrible.

He wished that he had locked the Peacock Miraculous away, so this hadn't happened at all. More and more often, he was feeling trapped between a rock and a hard place.

He had to keep ceding to Nathalie's methods out of self-preservation, but doing so was putting him in a precarious situation. All it would take was one fight where he didn't get his backup in time and he could get caught and hauled off to jail in an instant.

Up ahead, Ladybug (Ladycat? Did she always change her name with dual Miraculous? He neither knew nor cared) and Chat Noir had slowed down, likely to discuss how to approach the situation. Their heads were together, two sets of cat ears nearly brushing up against each other as they talked. Hawkmoth crept closer, hoping for a sneak attack. Before he jumped, he paused to listen. Perhaps they were discussing something important, like where the Guardian lived, or their strategy for what they were going to do next. Something he could use to bring this entire mess to an end.

"-don't understand how the Peacock can be out so much and so often, and for so long. The curse should be stopping that."

"Maybe they figured out how to break it," Ladybug suggested. "Or they know how to fix the effects. The Guardian said that neither is hard to do, if you know how to do it. I was just talking to him, and he's talking about finding all the ingredients so that he can do the cure as soon as we take Hawkmoth and Mayura down- if it's needed, that is."

Hawkmoth's eyes widened. He knew that the curse could be broken- or he had suspected, at any rate- but there was someone out there that knew the cure? Someone who could save Emilie?

It was the out that he hadn't even fully realized that he wanted. That he needed.

Before he was fully aware of it, Hawkmoth was pouncing on Ladybug, desperate for the information. She knew the one person in the world who could help Emilie. He couldn't let her get away.

Ladybug screamed, and Hawkmoth was vaguely aware of a yell and an enraged hiss before claws dug into his shoulder, tearing through suit and skin and trying to rip him off of Ladybug. Hawkmoth held on for several seconds, until Chat Noir's claws threatened to rip entirely through a muscle. He let go and was promptly flung back several meters, his hand going to his wound. Behind him, he was vaguely aware of his sword-cane clattering away.

Chat Noir crouched protectively over his partner, a snarl on his face as he hugged Ladybug to him. The rattled look on her face was fading fast, but Hawkmoth didn't miss the way that she clung to her partner with the hand not braced on the ground. She was still rattled, but just managing to hide it.

"Stay away from her!" Chat Noir snarled. "Don't you dare touch her."

"I didn't mean to hurt her!" Hawkmoth said quickly, before Chat Noir could pounce and attack again. The way his right hand curled and flexed suggested that the superhero was seriously considering using his Cataclysm and, well, there would be no coming back from that. He needed to talk fast, before Chat Noir decided that his partner was secure enough for him to go after Hawkmoth. "I didn't- you said that you knew a cure for the Peacock's curse. A cure for the effects. I need to know it."

"And what makes you think that we're going to help Mayura?" Chat Noir challenged, crouching lower over Ladybug. "Clearly she's doing just fine, considering that this is the third time this week that we've seen her powers in play."

Hawkmoth shook his head. "Not- not for her. Well, for her eventually, she's going to need the help, she didn't know what she was doing when she took up the Peacock, but- it's for my wife. She used the Peacock to keep evil at bay for years- and she used Body. She used it too much." He took a deep breath to try to steady himself. It didn't help much. Chat Noir still looked ready to rip him to pieces, but Ladybug's gaze had turned considering. "And you said that you- that you knew how to cure the effects of the curse."

Ladybug nodded. Her grip on Chat Noir had turned less desperate and more steadying, holding him back. "We know someone who knows that, yes."

Hawkmoth nodded and swallowed again. "I- I just want my wife back. I want her to not be in a coma anymore. That's- that's all I want. That's why I've been trying to get the Miraculous."

Ladybug's eyes narrowed at him, expression turning dubious. "That's all? Somehow I have some trouble believing that. The kwamis said that you wanted to control all of them. You wouldn't need all of them to bring your wife back."

"I- I don't know how to get her back," Hawkmoth pleaded, keeping one eye on Chat Noir's still-flexing hand and the other on Ladybug's yo-yo, which had one clawed hand resting over it. "I thought one might know how to do it, or at the very least having the power of all of them would be able to point me to someone who could figure it out. Or that having more powers would let me win, so I could get my wish."

Chat Noir glanced at Ladybug. Ladybug looked supremely unconvinced.

"I used Heart a few times to try to see if I could figure out the curse," Hawkmoth admitted, figuring that honesty was probably his best bet right now. He didn't want to appear vulnerable, but if it would get Emilie back and get him out of this mess... well, his pride could take a blow. Better his pride than his life. "Including shortly before Sandboy. The 'grab all the power I can and raze the world to help her' approach seemed reasonable at the time."

"I don't trust you," Ladybug decided after a few more seconds of internal deliberation. She held out a hand for her partner to pull her up. "Kitty, c'mere for a second-"

Hawkmoth waited anxiously as Ladybug and Chat Noir retreated a few meters and whispered back and forth, both of them keeping an eye trained on him. He wasn't going to run off, not when they knew someone who knew how to cure Emilie.

"We will try to help," Ladybug announced after a tense couple minutes had passed. "Under a couple conditions."

Hawkmoth nodded. He would agree to anything to get the help right now. He had no interest in continuing the way he was, crushed under Nathalie's heartless direction. Even if he might have won eventually- and that was doubtful, actually, since the superheroes were getting crazy good and he and Nathalie just couldn't keep up- he wanted this done now. He had spotted an out, and end to all of this madness, and he was going to grab it in both hands and not let go. "Of course."

"We need to know your identity, and Mayura's," Chat Noir chimed in. "But our identities, and that of our mentor, stay secret. Any traps, and I Cataclysm the whole place- wherever we are- to the ground."

Hawkmoth nodded. "Of course."

"We're still going to turn you over to the police in the end," Ladybug continued. "What they decide to do from there is up to them."

Hawkmoth cringed. Still, if it came down to some jail time in exchange for getting Emilie back and not having to exist under Nathalie's rule- not having to worry for his life… "Understood."

Suddenly, the earpiece in his right ear crackled to life, and Hawkmoth startled. "Where are you? The akuma is heading towards the Eiffel Tower and I'm not seeing you or the superheroes anywhere! Get in there and fight!"

"I- I've been disarmed," Hawkmoth responded quickly, fumbling for the earpiece. It was true enough, after all- his sword-stick had been tossed to the side. "I'm making a strategic retreat-"

He could feel Mayura's displeasure. "Do better."

"I will- I mean-"

"Retreat, detransform, recharge, and get back in there!" Mayura demanded. "You'll get your sword back then."

"Right- of course-"

"And I shouldn't have to tell you these things anymore," Mayura continued, anger clear in her voice. "Do better."

The connection went dead.

"So I suppose that I should, uh…" Hawkmoth trailed off, suddenly a little less sure. If he revealed himself , that was it. Even if Ladybug and Chat Noir's method failed, he would be going to jail. They could be lying to him right now, just to get the fighting to end. He couldn't trust them.

Except they hadn't known about his situation before, when they were talking about the curse on the Peacock. They just knew that Mayura was in play, and they were trying to figure out how. Ladybug hadn't hesitated in her response when he had asked if they knew how to cure it. She hadn't paused or looked away like she was lying. And she was a teenager and still an open book, as was Chat Noir. They weren't experienced at lying.

Besides, he was cornered without a weapon and injured to boot, two of them versus one of him. There was no more running.

Hawkmoth took a deep breath, glanced around quickly to make sure that no one else could see them, and dropped his transformation, trying not to flinch at the renewed pain in his shoulder.

Chat Noir hissed. Ladybug let out a quiet gasp.

So they recognized him, then. That was not a surprise. He was hardly an average civilian, after all.

Nooroo spiraled free of the brooch, coming to a slightly dizzy halt midair. He shook himself, bewildered, then spotted Ladybug and Chat Noir and gasped. He lit up, more than Gabriel had ever seen before, letting out a delighted trill before catching himself and glancing back at Gabriel warily.

Gabriel decided not to comment.

Ladybug was the first to recover. "So, your wife is missing because she's been affected by the Peacock's curse," she said briskly, leaning forward and flipping her yo-yo open as though she was going to take notes. She tapped the side, and - okay, she was going to take notes. She pulled out a flowery notebook and a pink pen and held then attentively, looking up at him. "Can you tell me when she started using the Peacock, how often and for how long, and what state she's in currently?"

So Gabriel told her as much as he could as quickly as he could, mentioning that Emilie had found some way to lessen the effects but she hadn't told him how and ever since, she had been getting steadily worse. Even since Nathalie started using the Peacock.

Especially since Nathalie started using the Peacock.

"So Nathalie Sancoeur is Mayura?" Ladybug asked, pen hovering above the page. Gabriel nodded in confirmation.

"She just wanted to help. She must have overheard me talking about using Heart instead of Body and decided that that was a good idea. I truly doubt that she would have done it had she known the full extent to which it would affect her."

Ladybug made a face but clearly chose not to comment on that.

"And where is your wife now?"

"Underground- no, not like that!" Gabriel corrected himself hastily when Chat Noir looked alarmed. "There's a large space underground among the catacombs- it's not exactly under the mansion, but I've had it connected- and she's staying down there, so I can visit but my son won't stumble on her. I can show you sometime," he added quickly. "I know an alternate route there, without going through the mansion. But she needs help quickly. I don't- at the rate that she's going, I don't know how much longer it will be before she slips away entirely."

"We're on it," Ladybug promised. "Perhaps you can let us know about the route tonight or tomorrow, and we can go by ourselves first."

Gabriel could see what Ladybug was doing there. It wasn't hard. Teenagers were very transparent. But he could understand it, and right now he was entirely playing on their terms. "Of course. Ah- I can leave instructions on a USB in my son's room, perhaps?"

"Or you can send them through Kwami-messaging!" Nooroo piped up. "Once you transform again and your sword is restored, you can open it and use it in any way you can think of! There's less chance of Nathalie finding out that way. And less chance of Adrien finding out."

Gabriel had to give Nooroo that, though it was really less chance of Adrien finding out right away, anyway. Unless the police kept things on the down-low- which what reason did they have to do that, really?- the whole of Paris would know before long.

At least he was essentially turning himself in. That had to help somehow, right?

"Let's do that, then," Ladybug said briskly. She glanced behind herself. "But for right now, unless we want to risk Mayura finding out, I think Chat Noir and I have an akuma to take care of."

"And there'll probably be others," Gabriel said apologetically. "I'll try to stall, but I can't risk Nathalie getting suspicious, not until we figure out what to do about her."

"Of course." Ladybug packed both pen and notebook back into her yo-yo, then nodded at Gabriel. "We'll be in touch, I guess."

"Of course. I'll get you those instructions as quickly as possible," Gabriel assured her. He winced as he felt his brooch heating up. "As for me, I'm going to have to recharge before Mayura thinks that I'm stalling. Do try to wrap this up quickly."

Ladybug and Chat Noir nodded once, then turned as one and raced off over the rooftops, vanishing quickly. Gabriel glanced around and found a fire escape nearby. Sighing, he started down it, tucking Nooroo into his jacket as he did. It was a tall enough building, so it took a couple minutes for them to reach the bottom. Just as they did, a rush of sparkling ladybugs raced around Paris, putting everything back to rights. Gabriel watched it, for once glad at the end of a battle. Nathalie would have no reason to continue pushing for him to retransform and return to the fight now that the akuma was out. He could take his time in getting back to the mansion, letting the day's events properly sink in.

"Well, Nooroo," Gabriel said, patting the lapel of his jacket as he stepped down to the ground. "This wasn't how I thought today would go, but I'm glad it did. We seem to have made some very unlikely allies today."

[didanawisgi]

written by Terry Newman

“Remember when the scariest kid in your neighborhood was the football jock who terrorized the high school with his minions in tow, and got bailed out by his rich parents when he went too far? Or it was the gothic malcontent with the switchblade and the swagger. Either way, what made these high-status alphas so terrifying was that they came at you in numbers. They travelled in packs. This has been our narrative, in the stories we tell—from Henry Bowers in Stephen King’s It, to Biff Tannen in Back to the Future, to Billy Hargrove in Stranger Things, central-casting bullies attracted followers. They belonged.

As any grade eight schoolgirl who’s been bullied off Instagram can attest, this stereotype still holds. But when it comes to the most dangerous and sociopathic actors, the opposite is true. All three of the young mass shooters who terrorized the United States in recent nationally reported scenes of carnage—Connor Betts in Dayton, Ohio; Patrick Crusius in El Paso, Texas; and Santino William Legan in Gilroy, California—acted alone. The old image of the bully as locker-room alpha or goth leader now seems passé. Often, it is the kid who used to be the fictional protagonist, the social outcast, the member of the Losers Club from It, whose face now appears on our screens with a nightmarish empty stare.

These recent shooters fit a similar profile. They were outsiders, all seemingly socially awkward, who became emboldened through fringe online communities that act as mutual-support societies for violent malcontents. This phenomenon is fuelled by hate, guns, mental illness and ideological extremism. But there is another factor at play here, too. Before a youth makes the decision to murder, before the gun is stashed in his backpack, before his state of mental health is so deteriorated that he commits the unthinkable, what has happened to him? It’s important to remember that these murders are also, in most cases, suicides.

In his 2008 article School Shooting as a Culturally Enforced Way of Expressing Suicidal Hostile Intentions, psychiatrist Antonio Preti summarized existing research on school shootings to the effect that “suicidal intent was found in most cases for which there was detailed information on the assailants.” The research also indicated that “among students, homicide perpetrators were more than twice as likely as their victims to have been bullied by their peers, and also were described as loners and poorly integrated into school activities…In most of the ascertained cases, perpetrators prepared a well-organized plan, and often communicated details about it to acquaintances or friends, who failed to report threats because they did not consider them serious or were embarrassed or ignorant of where to go for help. The most antisocial peers sometimes approved the plan, sharing the same anger against the stated target of violence.”

Preti’s article predated the rise of some of the most notorious web sites—including 8chan, which was shut down this week after several mass shootings were linked to its users. But the nihilistic phenomenon these killers represent predates modern social-media culture. Indeed, it predates digital communication, and even broadcast media more generally.

In 1897, French sociologist Émile Durkheim noted that suicides overall were increasing in society. But there were differences among the affected populations, he noticed. Men were more likely than women to commit suicide—though the chances decreased if the man was married and had children. Durkheim observed that social groups that were more religious exhibited lower suicide rates. (Catholics were less likely to commit suicide than Protestants, for instance.) Durkheim also noted that many people who killed themselves were young, and that the prevalence of such suicides was linked to their level of social integration: When a person felt little sense of connection or belonging, he could be led to question the value of his existence and end his life.

Durkheim labelled this form of suicide as “anomic” (others being “egoistic,” “altruistic” and “fatalistic”). Durkheim believed that these feelings of anomie assert themselves with special force at moments when society is undergoing social, political or economic upheaval—especially if such upheavals result in immediate and severe changes to everyday life.

Durkheim came from a long line of devout Jews. His father, grandfather and great grandfather had all been rabbis. And so even though he chose to pursue an academic career, his experiences taught him to respect the mental and psychological support that religious communities supplied to their members, as well as the role that ritual plays in the regulation of social behavior. In the absence of such regulation, he believed, individuals and even whole societies were at risk of falling into a state of anomie, whereby common values and meanings fall by the wayside. The resulting void doesn’t provide people with a sense of freedom, but rather rootlessness and despair.

Durkheim’s thesis has largely stood the test of time, though other scholars have reformulated it for modern audiences. In his 1955 book The Sane Society, for instance, Erich Fromm wrote that, “in the nineteenth century, the problem was that God is dead. In the twentieth century, the problem is that man is dead.” He described the twentieth century as a period of “schizoid-self alienation,” and worried that men would destroy “their world and themselves because they cannot stand any longer the boredom of a meaningless life.”

In her 2004 book Rampage: The Social Roots of School Shootings, Katherine Newman described findings gleaned from over 100 interviews in Arkansas and Kentucky. The male adolescent shooters at the center of her study, she concluded, “shared a belief that demonstrating strength by planned attacks on their respective institutions with (too) easily available guns would somehow mitigate their unbearable feelings of inadequacy as males and bring longed-for respect from peers.” Ten years later, in a 2014 article titled The Socioemotional Foundations of Suicide: A Microsociological View of Durkheim’s Suicide, sociologists Seth Abrutyn and Anna Mueller set out to update Durkheim’s theory about how social integration and moral regulation affect suicidality. “The greater degree to which individuals feel they have failed to meet expectations and others fail to ‘reintegrate’ them, the greater the feelings of shame and, therefore, anomie,” they concluded. “The risk of suicidal thoughts, attempts, and completions, in addition to violent aggression toward specific or random others, is a positive function of the intensity, persistence, and pervasiveness of identity, role, or status-based shame and anomie.”

Writing in the 1890s, Durkheim was highly conscious of all the ways that industrial capitalism corroded traditional forms of social regulation in society, often at the expense of religious—and even governmental—authorities. (“Depuis un siècle, en effet, le progrès économique a principalement consisté à affranchir les relations industrielles de toute réglementation. Jusqu’à des temps récents, tout un système de pouvoirs moraux avait pour fonction de les discipliner…En effet, la religion a perdu la plus grande partie de son Empire. Le pouvoir gouvernemental, au lieu d’être le régulateur de la vie économique, en est devenu l’instrument et le serviteur.”) But if he were to visit us in 2019, Durkheim would be surprised at the extent to which once-dominant ideas with no connection to economics have been marginalized as regressive and hateful—such as nationalism, patriotism and even masculinity.

This is one reason why so many people now feel unmoored. As Canadian science fiction writer Donald Kingsbury eloquently put it in his novel Courtship Rite, “Tradition is a set of solutions for which we have forgotten the problems. Throw away the solution and you get the problem back.” Faith in god, country and manhood might be seen as regressive by modern lights. But insofar as they were holding back male anomie, we perhaps neglected to consider what damage would be done if we discredited those ideas before finding replacements.

In the history of our species, there has never been (to the knowledge of modern scholars) a human society that did not express belief in some sort of supernatural force—which suggests that we are programmed by a need to believe in something bigger than ourselves. Sociologist Max Weber warned in 1919 that “science deals with facts. It can’t tell us what to do or what’s important.” This is to say that while the scientific revolution did a good job of helping us explain and harness the natural world, it did nothing to fill the god-shaped hole that Blaise Pascal identified in the 17th-century: “What else does this craving, and this helplessness, proclaim but that there was once in man a true happiness, of which all that now remains is the empty print and trace? This he tries in vain to fill with everything around him, seeking in things that are not there the help he cannot find in those that are, though none can help, since this infinite abyss can be filled only with an infinite and immutable object; in other words by God himself.”

If we are to resign ourselves to the fact that “God himself” isn’t going to intercede any time soon, then we are left with the ordinary tools of policy, such as Robert Putnam outlined in his famous 2000 book, Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of the American Community, in which he pointed to the value of “the connections among individuals’ social networks and the norms of reciprocity and trustworthiness that arise from them.” These connections could be strengthened, Putnam argued, through improved civics education, more extra-curricular activities for youth, smaller schools, family-oriented workplaces, a more enlightened approach to urbanism, technology that reinforces rather than replaces face-to-face interaction, as well as a decentralization of political power. These recommendations were written 19 years ago, before Facebook, Twitter or 4chan existed. It would be interesting to know how he would revise his recommendations now that we have a better appreciation for the massive effects of digital culture on our social dynamics.

In a 2017 article I wrote, titled Towards a Theory of Virtual Sentiments, I argued that real-time empathy generation often requires some degree of eye contact—which is hard to generate through online interaction. Moreover, it is shockingly easy to get worked up into a rage when you are interacting with an online avatar of a person you have never met. Simply put, the more we physically see each other, the less likely we are to be awful to each other. As Louis CK said in an interview about youth and technology, “They don’t look at people when they talk to them and they don’t build empathy. You know, kids are mean, and it’s cause they’re trying it out. They look at a kid and they go, ‘You’re fat,’ and then they see the kid’s face scrunch up and they go, ‘Oh, that doesn’t feel good to make a person do that.’ But when they write ‘You’re fat’ [online] then they just go, ‘Mmm, that was fun, I like that.’” Even putting aside the extreme cases of forums that cater to homicidal shooters, I remain unconvinced that any community that exists primarily in online form can be a force for long-term good. Perhaps more time offline is a good start for anyone seeking to enhance “the norms of reciprocity and trustworthiness.”

Do we need a new nationalism? A new religion? What common human project can we collectively embrace that gives a sense of mission to everyone, regardless of skin color, religion, economic class or ideology? It would be presumptuous for me to suggest I have the answers. All I know is that men who see human life as meaningless are symptoms of a larger sense of anomie that, in less dramatic and destructive form, increasingly grips us all.”

Terry Newman is currently an MA student in the Sociology Department at Concordia University in Montreal. Her SSHRC-funded research is on the candidate controversies that took place during the 2015 Canadian federal election. She is also a Teaching Assistant in Concordia’s Engineering Department. She tweets from @tlnewmanmtl. She is the author of the Quillette article Through the Looking Glass at Concordia University.

[jovialyouthmusic]

Charlotte’s Choice

A Royal Romance AU fanfic

15a The Regatta part 2

Charlotte wrestles with her Father’s announcement and Brad admits his true feelings.

Scenes of a sexual nature, not suitable for under 18s

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15a The Regatta part 2

Charlotte’s head swam. Inwardly she raged at her Father for not warning her what he was planning. Outwardly she had to appear as if she already knew. If her life had been complicated before, it had just multiplied in complexity. Of course she knew that she’d be required to take on more power and responsibility soon, but now it was upon her. Add to that the fact that her father was terminally ill, and she was left reeling. She suspected that this was her Father’s way of focussing her mind, of pushing her toward his choice. She smiled in front of the other nobles, she watched the race, but she was numb. She was waiting until she could talk to her father in private, and she suspected he would try to put that off or choose a time when she was totally unprepared.

It was Maxwell that won the race, with Anton a very close second. The young Beaumont positively bounced on board the Royal Yacht and beamed with pride as he sat next to Charlotte while drinks and nibbles were served. She tried her hardest to let his bubbly persona lift her spirits, but it was difficult. Eventually they were alone, and he leaned across to her, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face.

‘Lottie, did you know the King was planning on involving you in State matters quite so soon?’ he asked in a low tone.

‘No, I did not’ she whispered ‘and I’ll be having words with him later. He could at least have told me before announcing it in front of everyone’ Max nodded

‘Well, as always, if you need a friendly ear, you know where to find me. I’m only sorry I can’t be more help’ Charlotte furrowed her brow in thought.

‘Well Maxxy, you could keep me updated on Court gossip – that might help me sway Council members If I need to apply leverage’ He grinned back

‘No probs Prinny’ he winked ‘Agent Max is on it. Drake said…’ and his eyes grew wide and he shut his mouth. Charlotte frowned

‘Drake said – what exactly?’ she asked. Maxwell squirmed uncomfortably.

‘It wasn’t anything really, I know you and he fell out – he was the one who told me he thought you’d been blindsided’ Charlotte sighed

‘I guess it just goes to show how well he knows me. I’m not quite so upset with him now, I’ll talk to him at some point soon – but don’t tell him that Maxxy’ The young man held up his hand

‘I pinky swear, my lips are sealed’ he said earnestly, and Charlotte linked fingers with him, smiling.

‘Okay, now we’d better circulate a little. Did you know Adelaide is here tonight?’ Maxwell grew pale.

‘Really? Oh God, don’t leave me with her, it’s embarrassing the way that cougar paws me after a couple of glasses of bubbly’

‘Don’t worry Max, you’re my escort for the evening and she’s not staying over on the yacht. You get a cabin all to yourself – just don’t go there until she’s left’

‘Phew, thanks Lottie, you’re a real pal.’ The two of them stayed side by side until dinner, when Adelaide left. All the other suitors were there, and all had cabins for the night. Although it was a large luxury yacht, quarters were cramped and there was little privacy for anyone save the King, whose suite was on the level just below the top deck, with a large cabin and attached study for State business. Charlotte was tired and about to retire for the night when Constantine, so far having avoided being alone with her, drew her aside.

‘Before you go to bed my dear, there are some papers for you to read and sign. I’ll set you up in my study and leave you to get through them all.’

‘Father, I was wanting to speak with you – in private’ she said stiffly

‘Of course my dear, follow me’ he said coolly, and led her to his study. He closed the door and at last they were alone. She wasted no time

‘Father, why didn’t you tell me about all that responsibility before you told the Press?’ she asked. She expected him to be angry or evasive, but his face remained calm

‘A Queen should be ready to serve her country, and you are so close to taking over that role now. I didn’t think it necessary to remind you that you have pressing duties.’

‘But I’m already swamped with the social season and the pressing matter of choosing a consort!’ she pointed out angrily.

‘All the better to find out who will assist or hinder you, my dear daughter’ he replied evenly ‘Each night from now on you’re going to have to attend to state matters, and I will send one of your suitors to assist you for a short while. They won’t be vital matters, but all the same it will be very telling as to how they behave. I expect you to test each one of them in a timely fashion.’

‘I still think some warning was in order, father’

‘Not at all, I wanted to see how you react under pressure, and so far, you’re doing very well. And don’t forget that you may not have me around for long to assist you’ He walked over to the desk and indicated a pile of papers ‘The sooner you begin, the sooner you finish, my dear. I expect them all seen to before morning. For tonight, you’ll be on your own to get a taste of the sort of thing you’ll be dealing with. Goodnight Charlotte, I’ll be in my cabin next door. When you’ve finished, close the door quietly, there’s a good girl’

The King left, and Charlotte fumed silently, regarding the stack of papers.

In the morning, Olivia sat at the dressing table in her cabin, looking at her reflection with a mouthful of hair pins. With a sigh, she let her long red hair down and started to brush it for the third time. There had not been enough room for her to bring a maid, and she couldn’t for the life of her get her hair to look right. She started again, gathering it together and twisting, poking the pins in again only for half of it to escape just as she heard a knock at the door.

‘Go away’ she growled, but whoever it was didn’t know when to quit, as the knock came again. She screamed with frustration and threw her hairbrush at the door. It opened, and Brad poked his head in cautiously

‘What part of ‘go away’ did you not understand, Brad?’ she growled

‘I’m sorry Livvy, I could have sworn you said come in’ he said innocently. He looked at the hairbrush on the floor ‘What gives? I was going to offer to take you into breakfast and have a quick chat about Lottie first, but’ he looked at her hair ‘you look like you’re having problems’ He stepped in, picking up the hairbrush.

‘Unless you’ve got some skill with a hairbrush and hairpins, you can turn right around, pretty boy’ she snapped. Brad rubbed the back of his neck and looked sheepish. Olivia rolled her eyes, having a flashback to their game of ‘Never have I ever’ in the hot tub. ‘Don’t tell me, you trained as a hairdresser. You’re a man of many skills’ Brad smiled lopsidedly.

‘Not quite, but one of my exes hated getting her hair cut, so she wore it up or braided a lot of the time. I got pretty good at updos and French plaits while we were together’ Olivia shrugged her shoulders.

‘Okay then, let’s see what you’ve got’ and Brad stepped forward as she turned to the mirror. Brad started to brush her hair. He had a gentle touch and she found it very soothing. In turn, he was enjoying running her hair through his fingers as he twisted it up and pinned it into a simple flattering style.

‘You have beautiful hair’ he said as he worked. ‘A very unique colour’ Olivia snorted.

‘Is that a polite way of saying I’m ginger? Believe me there’s not a negative comment I haven’t heard over the years’ Brad smiled apologetically.

‘You forget, I spent years living in Scotland, there are a lot of red heads there, it’s more common to not be a redhead. Your colour is very rich, and I can tell it’s natural’ Olivia softened a little. ‘How do you like the style?’

‘Thankyou’ she said stiffly ‘It’s adequate. And I don’t often get compliments’ Brad looked at her reflection quizzically.

‘Really? I find that hard to believe. You’re…’ he swallowed, remembering Olivia’s quick temper, but he pressed on boldly ‘Stunning’ Olivia pivoted on her chair, surprise in her eyes. 

‘You find me attractive, Brad? You usually run for the hills whenever I make a move on you’ She looked him up and down approvingly and he flushed.

‘I – you’ve threatened me so many times I don’t know when you’re serious’ he replied, and she pouted.  Brad’s palms were sweating and he felt light headed.

‘Just figures of speech darling’ she said ‘And I suppose I love teasing you. I usually take what I want, and you’re good at dodging’ 

‘Years of rugby practice I guess’ he grinned ‘and you’ve been throwing me at the Princess and warning me not to succeed, so I wasn’t sure where I stood.’ Olivia sighed

‘I think it’s unlikely that you’ll become Consort, that was never my intention’ she confessed ‘Part of me didn’t want to leave you behind’ Brad gaped at her ‘Even so, it also didn’t feel right to sleep with the guy I brought over to act as a suitor for Lottie, as long as she was enjoying your company’ Brad mind was working overtime at her confession, and his admittance of his true feelings,

‘I – then I can’t carry on leading her on’ he said ‘It’s not fair on her’ Olivia nodded. 

‘You’re probably right. So…’ she reached out and put her hand on his thigh as he stood in front of her ‘Why don’t you stop wasting time and kiss me?’ Brad swallowed.

‘Only if you promise you won’t disembowel me – or any of those other threats you’ve made’

‘I promise I will not attempt to maim, injure or kill you if you just shut the fuck up and kiss me’ she growled. Brad took her hand off his thigh and pulled her up to standing. Their lips crashed together, no tender exploration but a straightforward messy open mouthed kiss, tongues entwining immediately, his hand at the back of her neck and her nails scraping his scalp, bodies pressed together until Olivia started to push him back toward the bed and they half stumbled to it, Brad landing on his back and Olivia kneeling on the mattress, following him.

He had denied his feelings toward her for so long and now it was like a dam breaking, blood going to parts that had not been appeased for some time. He felt a low growl in his throat, kicking off his shoes and scooting up the bed, propping himself up on his elbows as she advanced on him.

‘How long since you had sex Brad?’ she asked huskily ‘I mean proper sex, no fumbling around with fingers and tongues, real hot pounding ball emptying sex?’ Brad groaned as she hiked up her dress and straddled him, grinding her groin against his as he grew harder by the second. He sat up to claim her lips, breathing noisily though his nose as their mouths fused together until they parted for breath.

‘Oh god Olivia – two weeks before you stepped into my bar?’ he panted, his brain having a hard time working it out as the blood flowed to his lower regions. She grinned, easing up and unbuckling his belt.

‘You must have blue balls, Brad’ she said, ‘I’m doing you a service’ She wasted no time pulling down his trousers and getting off the bed to tear his socks off before leaving them all on the floor in a heap, climbing back onto the bed ‘or do you take yourself in hand from time to time?’ She started to unbutton his shirt rapidly, raking her fingernails over his chest. His skin burned and lit the fire of passion in his belly.

‘Who doesn’t?’ admitted Brad as she stood to hike up her long dress and strip off her panties, slipping her shoes off at the same time.

‘Show me’ she demanded, and he shot her a confused look.

‘What?’ He asked.

‘Show me how you hold yourself’ she said, licking her lips and stripping his boxers off, making an approving sound as she saw his rapidly hardening member. Brad groaned and reached down, wrapping his hand around himself and drawing back his foreskin in a slow steady rhythm. She watched for  a while then advanced on him, coming up to the head of the bed and straddling his face. Happily he darted out his tongue and ran it over her full slick lips, tasting her with approval and probing with the tip of his tongue for the little button of her clitoris, surprised and gratified to find how swollen and engorged it was, and softly circled it, happy to feel her bounce away from him slightly with the intensity, so he softened the pressure as she lowered herself again, using the flat of his tongue to press gently on it. He felt rather than heard her moan, then she sat up and pivoted so he faced his feet.

He felt her lean forward and peel his hand away from his cock and bucked as he felt her lips around the tip, warm and wet. Slowly she worked her mouth around him, and he felt as if he was losing his mind with the double stimulation of the scent and moisture of her moist folds and the heat of her mouth. He pushed her hips up and away, and she pivoted so she knelt next to him.

‘Fuck Olivia, I won’t last long like that’ he panted ‘If you want me inside you it had better be now’ Olivia reached over to the bedside table and produced a foil wrapped package, ripping it open. She smiled archly as she rolled the condom over his length.

‘Oh Brad, you’re just perfect, nice and thick’ she purred, and straddled him, lowering herself onto the tip ‘I like being stretched’ Sitting up, she eased onto him slowly and he fought the urge to thrust up into her, hands resting on her hips, waiting for her to adjust and sink onto him. At last she settled with a sigh of satisfaction and tightened around him, making him gasp with delight, his fingers tightening into her flesh.

‘Oh that’s good’ he breathed, aware that the walls in the yacht were not good at sound insulation. He bit his lip as she rose a little, then slid back down. She threw her head back as she started to move, tilting and rolling her hips in an erratic pattern that kept him guessing as to when she would almost let him fall out of her, only to suddenly allow him to thrust up into her, or just tilt slightly to keep the stroke shallow, or crash down onto him. She stopped altogether as she pressed her lips to his, tightening her soft velvet walls around his cock rhythmically. He pulled away from her mouth, gripped her hips and flipped her over onto her back.

She snarled, showing her teeth and rose up to bite his shoulder, hands clawing at his back, fingernails raking top to bottom. She brought her mouth close to his ear.

‘Fuck me Brad, show me what you’ve got. Don’t be gentle, fuck me hard.’ she whispered, biting down on his earlobe. He waited for her to let it go, hissing at the sharp pain and started to drive into her in a frenzied rhythm, allowing a low grunt to escape on each stroke. She panted and gasped and writhed underneath him, meeting his every thrust with her hips until she started to tighten around him, a soft moan escaping her lips. He slowed a little and she pulled him close, pressing herself hard onto his groin and shuddering, gasping as he delivered the last few strokes that finally allowed him to erupt inside her, emptying himself with a deep guttural groan. He let his breath steady before he pulled out and collapsed to the side of her sweating, heart hammering and lay on his back listening to her panting slowing and evening out. He got up to get rid of the condom and clean himself up, returning to the bed to collapse next to her.

‘Well I think that’s me out of the running as suitor’ he panted

‘Don’t be silly darling Olivia gasped ‘We Cordonians - are generous people – we like to share’ He turned to her incredulously.

‘Olivia, I’m a one woman kind of guy’ he said ‘I can’t go back to Charlotte if I’m fucking you’

‘Who says you get to do it again?’ she said mischievously. He turned and looked at her. locking his eyes to her, blue to green.

‘Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want to’ She gazed at him and opened her mouth, then smiled archly

‘It was fun, I’ll admit that’

‘You’re a fiery woman Olivia. Lottie’s fragile, and I’m afraid of hurting her - physically and emotionally. I’m in her bad books for defending Drake anyway’ She rolled over to face him.

‘I like a man who likes it rough, and I wouldn’t wish that on Lottie. You’re right, you can’t woo her, but you can still support her if she’ll let you. Do whatever you can to get her trust back and we’ll have to hope she forgives Drake too – or we’ll end up with a Severus on the throne.’

[mairacute]

TurboTrix Finance

Introduction to the project

It is becoming more and more common to hear about Blockchain and decentralised finance, as they are bringing a great revolution to the technology industry and a range of solutions to many problems in different sectors.

Now, with the crisis that has generated the Covid-19, not only at economic level but also social and family has made one of the sectors that requires a change is the precariousness and economic-social problems such as debt, unemployment, etc.. This has become even more accentuated with the illness, although it already required attention before.

It is true that often the problem is the management of each person, but many do not know how to do it. One of the things that is recommended is to convert regular work income into passive income or portfolio income. That's why I want to introduce you to TurboTrix (https://turbotrixfinance.com/), a path to financial freedom that helps generate passive income through dual blockchain technology by rewarding you with TRX and TurboTRIX tokens.

What is exactly TurboTrix and why it has been created?

Going into detail, TurboTrix Finance (https://turbotrixfinance.com/) is a decentralised finance project based on blockchain technology that enables decentralisation that runs securely on the dBinance Smart Chain network and enables the Twin TurboTrx ecosystem on Tron with faster transactions and low gas fees.

The ecosystem is characterised by Twin TurboTrx, the system on Tron, and TurboTrix, the Team build Token on Bsc. Two powerful blockchain technologies that run and power it.

TurboTrix's primary goal is to build a secure and decentralised participation and earning ecosystem for both those new to crypto, and those looking to increase investment returns.

Further, TurboTrix has the ambition to create a benchmark platform for the buying/selling and collection of non-fungible tokens (NFTs), facilitate and reward the participation of both stakeholders through decentralisation and smart contracts that allow them to claim ownership of a work, and finally, make the platform fully governance driven by the community, so that they can be integrated into decision making.

Community awards

One of the particularities and objectives of TurboTrix is to make the platform free and allow governance through the community. This is why it is also committed to community prizes based on their participation. In this way, users can obtain rewards thanks to:

1. digital reward system to give back to the best supporters of the project in the form of NFT, cryptocurrency, fiat and even physical products.

2. Rewards system for maintaining the time during which they hold their investments in TTF tokens.

3. Unique TurboTrader prize of the year, consisting of a valuable NFT, a holiday or even a $10,000 cash payout.

Main features of TurboTrix

TTF Staking: You can stake TurboTrix tokens and earn rewards in your wallet on the Tosdis platform.

TTF Farming: Cash mining on the Tosdis platform.

Earn $40 in TTF: Any user can receive TurboTRIX tokens when participating by using the dedicated ID number 1006 to register for the Twin TurboTRX system on Tron Network (Attention: distribution is December 22, 2021).

Secure platform: The platform is built on blockchain technology ensuring not only security, but also lo-fees. In addition, it is community-focused, so it has a governance system to match, among many other features.

Principal benefits of the platform

Passive crypto income: Upon registration, the user receives airdrops and rewards immediately with a one-time registration fee of $40 in TRX tokens.

Staking: Rewards TTF token holders until 22 December.

Trading token: Focus on trading on major exchanges.

Tokenomics

TURBOTRIX ($ TTF) will be the main token of the platform, which will be created under the Binance Smart Chain BEP-20 protocol.

Token Name: TURBOTRIX.FINANCE

Token Symbol: TTF

Token Blockchain: Binance Smart Chain (BSC)

Max Supply: 777,777,777 TTF

                       Token Allocation

Bounty program

The project gives the opportunity to earn TTF tokens performing some social media tasks and doing simple steps from the bounty program explained into the following Bitcointalk Thread here (https://bitcointalk.org/index.php?topic=5350403.msg57510879#msg57510879), where you can access the link in order to see what are the conditions to become an early TurboTrix Finance contributor and start acquiring tokens.

For more information about the project, you can visit and read their WhitePaper available here (https://www.turbotrixfinance.com/Turbotrix-WhitePaper-V1.pdf). You can also stay tuned in their official Telegram Channel (https://t.me/turbotrix_finance). I hope you liked the post and soon I'll send you new ones.

Roadmap

Q1 2021: Incubation Period (I)

Project idea initiation and team selection

Project research

Information gathering

Website development

Airdrop implementation

Social media creation

Q2 2021: Incubation Period (II)

Strategic marketing

First exchange listings PancakeSwap

Dodo exchange and follow on top tier exchange listings

Airdrop distribution

Partnerships

Token pre-sales

CMC and other price checker site listings

WhitePaper release

Q4 2021: Marketing and Community Growth

Social media creation

Launch of team building links

Growth of 100k Telegram community for marketing purposes and promotion of our platform

Creation, execution and verification of TurboTrix contracts on Binance smart chain

Launch of TurboTrix app and NFTs marketplace

Wallet and staking features, website and whitepaper updates

AMA and more.

Q1-Q4 2022: Full Flight

Partnerships

More Exchange listings

Marketing (Download White Paper for details)

Full TurboTrix platform development and rewards

Updates to the white paper and website and partnerships.

Social Media Links

Website: https://turbotrixfinance.com/

Medium: https://medium.com/@turbotrix.finance

Twitter: https://twitter.com/TurbotrixF

Telegram: https://t.me/turbotrix_finance

AUTHOR

Bitcointalk Username: Mairacute

Telegram Username: @mairacute

Bitcointalk url: https://bitcointalk.org/index.php?action=profile;u=3334914

BSC USDT Wallet Address : 0x9758aabf2b323516C272e1B676131703790f87A7

[crasherfly]

Weekly Update

Nothing to report.

I had a big ol’ ripper of a rant, but it was pretty much everything I’d already said in therapy. Y’all don’t gotta take that on. So I’m gonna let it lie where it ought- with a professional.

I’ll just say I hope everyone had a good holiday weekend. I miss everyone a lot and I hope we can game together soon.

Video Games

Holy smokes did I play some games or did I play some GAMES. (I played some games). Gonna do my best to recap everything I did below. 

Crusader Kings 3 (PC)

Crusader Kings 3 is a grand strategy game about facilitating a royal line in the medieval world and leading it to ever greater heights of fame and power. Eventually, you’ll see your humble bloodline climb to the highest echelons of the lite.

Crusader Kings 3 is a grand strategy game about overseeing a perpetual house fire of family turmoil in the medieval world and watching over the course of hours and days as it burns itself straight to the ground.

Both of these things are equally true. And shockingly, both are equally fun.

I played about 30 hours of this game over Thanksgiving break. And although my first royal family was more of the house fire variety, I can’t deny that my experience was memorable and deeply enjoyable.

In Crusader Kings 3 you play as a king- not a kingdom, but the actual ruler. You have stats and abilities and traits, and the decisions you make throughout your reign affect them in dramatic ways. You also oversee an entire family of individuals who you can similarly affect with your actions. 

While the game itself also has traditional strategy concepts such as war and economy, the real meat and bones are in the simply click to choose narrative bubbles that pop up throughout your playthrough. Will you attend the ball, or slink away into the night? Will you charge the rampart or let your knights serve as your shield? Will you marry the unskilled heir of a powerful ally, or commoner with the brilliant stewardship abilities? Every decision ensures that your playthrough will be nothing like anyone else’s.

It is a complex and robust system, demanding you take on an encyclopedia’s worth of terms and vocabulary to fully understand what is happening. Everything- and I mean EVERYTHING- has a stat modifier attached to it. War is unforgiving and often devastating, and economic buildup is fragile and requires immense patience. This is a slow experience, to be sure, one that makes games like Civ or even Endless Space seem lightning paced in comparison.

There aren’t many folks I could recommend this game to. The few I know who have tried it have given up after a couple hours, discouraged by the obtuse volume of systems and intricacies that I won’t even pretend to have a full grasp of as of this writing.

But what I will say is that it is rare for a strategy game to be so accepting of ignorance and mistakes- and if you’re willing to give Crusader Kings 3 the time to open up, it will reward you. 

My first king after the starter king died at 33, half-insane, wounded and tortured to death after an ill-fated war against a neighboring county who happened to be best buds with the King of England- a much, much stronger kingdom than I. But I kept going, and by the time I’d hit the 5th and 6th kings in my succession, my rulers were regularly living well past 55 years of age, occasionally winning wars, but more importantly, staying out of unnecessary ones, and making plenty of gold for kingdom improvements.

Granted, this all came crashing down after an opportunistic neighbor declared war on me as I was in the midst of my own expansion. They captured an incredibly valuable county from me, and my kingdom never recovered. I watched as my territory disappeared claim by claim until at last my army of less than 100 was wiped out, my last city captured, and my bloodline swiftly ended via jailing and executions.

But...it was a thrilling end to over 200 years of royal drama, and I was immediately plotting how I’d do better next game.

Hitman 2 (PS4)

So when I said I played some GAMES, I mostly meant I got deep into a couple of games that require a lot of investment and focus. I’ve put in over 150 hours with Hitman 1 and 2 combined. I maxed out the mastery level of every mission in the first game- twice, so I could unlock the old equipment for the new game- and have been working my way through total mastery on the second game ever since.

If someone were to ask me what I think the best game of the PS4/XBONE gen is, I’d say, without hesitation, Hitman. It’s rare to find a game that is so rewarding of your time, so dedicated to presenting you with a thoughtful and clever world as this. Every level is a perfect puzzle. Every solution is both humorous and karmic and deeply satisfying. The rewards are many and you earn them often enough to keep you coming back. There are more side-contracts than I could ever possibly play. There’s even a co-op mode that I haven’t touched, not to mention the custom contracts. There’s even more than that, but if I go on I’ll start to sound like a back of box summary.

I finally finished the Isle of Sgail this week. A massive, sprawling castle with multiple layers of security and triggered events, it took FOREVER to learn. In fact, it was so massive that I gave up on it several times before finally resolving to finish it.

Now, I’m a deeply obsessive Hitman player. I don’t move on from a level until I’ve maxed out its mastery rating and unlocked all of its items for my inventory. But had I not wanted to do that? I could have moved forward at any time. And that’s the joy of Hitman. It doesn’t force you to stick around longer than you’d want to. If you want to play every single hit the same way, you can! If you want to just walk into every single level, shoot your target in the head, and leave- it might be a bit tricky, but it isn’t impossible, and you could do that and conceivably play every single level in the course of maybe a week.

But if you want to take your time and really memorize these brilliant layouts over the course of weeks, months, or in my case- years? You can do that too. Either way can be the right way to enjoy Hitman. 

I’m guessing these games will go on sale a few more times before 3 drops. If you can pick up 2′s premium edition, which includes 1, I’d highly recommend it. It is rare that you will find a title with so much pure single player content. Years worth, if you want it.

Depending on how the devs handle inventory and progress crossover for 3, I’ll have a big decision to make on what console I choose to play. I couldn’t care less where the story is going, but then, has anyone ever? These games have been an absolute joy to play, and that’s what matters.

Also...a Bond game from the same devs?

Sign me up!

Link’s Awakening (Switch) 

I always told myself I’d never pay full price for this. Because Nintendo’s gonna Nintendo, I had to wait a full year before I could catch any sort of break on this price. 

Eventually picked up Link’s Awakening and so far it’s pretty much been exactly what I expected. My muscle memory carried me through 2 dungeons in less than 90 minutes. The visuals were gorgeous, the music delightful, and my continual nostalgic recall at times overwhelming. This really is the same game we all played on our Gameboys, brought back to life for a new gen.

There’s nothing new here to go over. However, if you have a child or a partner who didn’t grow up with this? I’d recommend picking it up for them. Link’s Awakening has always been one of the least intimidating and most accessible Zelda games out there, and this reboot (or remaster? idk!) is an absolute charmer.

Premium Bowling (Oculus Quest 2)

So it’s come to this. Bowling. The more things have changed since the Wii, the more they stay the same. Bowling is still the most satisfying motion activity you can do, it seems.

Premium Bowling is exactly what it sounds like- a game about bowling. You have a few different alleys to choose and no shortage of pin set ups. The added ability to track not just your hand motions but your steps is really cool- and I like to hope my actual bowling form has improved as I play this. I get a good light workout in and the ball and pins tend to behave the way I feel like they should.

Not much else to say here. The price tag is a bit steep for a bowling experience, but far as I can tell this seems to be the main, if not only, one out there, and the reviews are overwhelmingly positive, even as I have to admit the announcer bugs the daylights out of me.

Anime

Folks- I did the damn thing. I got out there and I watched some anime! FINALLY.

I don’t know what I keep avoiding this stuff. There are so many good and interesting stories out there at my fingertips, and I just keep ignoring them to go watch wrestling or bet on Spriteclub. It’s awful!

Well, no more. This week, I got to catch up on some stories. Here’s what I got so far.

Note: For titles I haven’t written about previously, I’ll provide a short summary. For others, not so much. For my more critical thoughts- my experiences are my own and not a judgement of others. Maybe you loved one series or hated another. That’s totally fine! Everyone should love what they love without reservation. As always, I love hearing about what you love. If you think I missed something, or just want to share something about your experience that really made an anime click? Hit me up! Also, I am ALWAYS taking recommendations- and I will almost always follow up if I give something you send my way a shot :)

Fire Force

Fire Force’s season 2 is finally, after what feels like an eternity, winding down. It’s still a gorgeous show and certainly one of the most on-brand shonen out there. It’s also, for me, one of the most uneven.

Season 2 has been all over the damn place this year, introducing countless characters and following no small number of random threads before finally coming back to Shinra and the 8th’s mission to determine the cause of human combustion. 

The past couple of eps in particular have been brutal, with actual character death and mutilation taking a front seat- things I was not necessarily expecting from a fairly gung-ho shonen.

I still enjoy the world that Fire Force has built. It’s an undeniably cool aesthetic. I’ll be curious to see what, if any, cliff-hangers the writers leave us as the heroes close in on the evil Evangelist.

Jujutsu Kaisen

Speaking of shonens, this particular title about a possessed teenager with a death sentence has really come into its own in its first season. Its lore is absolutely lovely, and the more I learn about curses and those who hunt them, the more I want to know.

I’ll spare the rundown on what this show’s about- I’ve gone over it in previous blogs. Suffice to say those who are after a more mature shonen with a darker plot will dig this one a lot.

Is It Wrong to Try to Pick Up Girls in a Dungeon?

A young adventurer named Bell becomes an adventurer- not to kill monsters or earn glory, but to find true love. Eventually, he finds it, but not in the way he expects. After getting cornered by a monster way above his level, he is rescued by a beautiful warrior named Ais. The story follows Bell’s quest to get stronger so that he can impress Ais- and stand with confidence amongst other adventurers.

Only watched the first ep of this. It was charming, well animated. I hear it’s picked up a lot of steam in its third season. I don’t know that I can say the hook really grabbed me, but it’s a very cute show.

One-Punch Man

Saitama has a problem- he’s trained so hard that he’s now TOO strong, and can finish every fight with just one punch. He’s now bored and despondent, as the hobby he took up for fun now lacks the spark that he once felt before. Dealing with these feelings and seeking a challenge that shakes up his low-stakes, humdrum day to day life- that is the story we follow in One-Punch Man.

So I’ve read the manga for OPM. I loved it. I thought, and still think, its animation is superior to the anime. When I first tried OPM I couldn’t get past that, and I eventually gave up. 

I also thought that a lot of OPM stories had kind of a weird tone- it’s definitely a loner/outsider story, and a lot of the villains and antagonists that get set up are absolutely poking fun at the typical things you’d expect an angry loner story to poke fun at. I won’t get too into it, but when I first tried OPM that weird undercurrent really made it hard for me to get into it the way a lot of other guys I knew were.

A few years later, I’m giving it a shot again. And overall? 

I don’t hate it. 

I think I’m looking at the protagonist, Saitama, in a different light. His boredom, his lackluster deference and his blank stares all play to a place that I find more familiar than I’d like to admit.

But also- the animation is fine and I’m a dummy for giving it grief. And the music is just super rad as well. 

I think I’ll eventually finish OPM now that I have both more distance between the manga now and now that I’ve kinda settled down on what throws me off, content-wise, in a story. I’m going to give OPM the benefit of the doubt and keep watching. I’ll report back when I finish.

Mob Psycho 100

A lot of folks I know have ranted that Mob Psycho 100 is the best darn thing to happen to anime in ages. I guess the visuals, much as they did for One-Punch Man, sorta dissuaded me from seeing what all the hype was about.

And I guess they still kinda do. I...I guess Mob Psycho is pretty in its own way. It’s definitely not the visual aesthetic I go searching for in an anime, but I’m trying to do a better job of not judging that too harshly.

Anyway, Mob Psycho 100 is about a kid named Mob who acts as a powerful exorcist on behalf of his bumbling and powerless teacher. Together they take on demons as a for-hire service.

I feel like I’ve heard this show is hilarious? I don’t know. I didn’t find too much to chuckle about, but it was well-done and it certainly had no shortage of chaotic energy and visuals.

I’ll probably finish it, if only ‘cuz I’m mildly intrigued about just what so many others see in Mob as a protag, and ‘cuz I’m also curious what so many folks are drawing from the series as a whole. But so far, I haven’t found myself hooked.

No Guns Life

The main character has a gun for a head. Honestly? That was weird enough to make me pass over the thumbnail for months.

Recently though, I’ve been rewatching Solty Rei, and it got me in the mood for weird sci-fi noir stories. So I thought what the hell, I’ll give the gunhead a try.

I’m so, so glad I did.

Of all the titles I tried out this week, No Guns Life is the best. It is dark, brooding, gorgeous, but also knows when to have fun. 

In a future world where prosthetic replacement has been normalized- if not popularized, a mercenary named Juzo is handed a case by a desperate “Extended” (the term used for more advanced cyborgs) who asks him to look after a boy that was just rescued from a corporate lab. Juzo takes the case, and his life immediately becomes more complicated- and dangerous.

It’s a classic noir hook that feels both familiar yet fresh in thanks to the series’ inventive visuals and intricate lore. Further, the voice acting is just pure hard-boiled goodness, whether you watch it in English or the original Japanese.

Do yourself a favor and give the first episode a try. You might just love it.

The Millionaire Detective Balance: Unlimited

An honest and earnest blue-collar detective is paired up with a new recruit at his precinct- a recruit who turns out to be the richest man on the planet!

That’s it. That’s the show. It is not trying to hide anything- that’s its premise and it’s sticking by it.

And a few times, I even laughed at its brazenness. 

At one point during a high speed chase, the millionaire successfully resolves the chase by...telling his butler to pay everyone to get out of the way- at “twice the market value”. Which. What even...

The Millionaire Detective’s power is literally that he is rich and can afford anything. When he accesses his balances, they are listed as “unlimited”. He buys everyone off. Pays for every damage he causes. He can make city utilities such as traffic lights and draw bridges do anything he likes. At one point, the Millionaire Detective stops a foreign dignitary in the middle of the street and buys the dignitary’s vehicle on the spot so he can continue his chase. It’s...well. It’s the logical conclusion of the series title. I’ll give it that much.

No idea if I’d finish this. It has some funny ideas. I like that the eps end with a balance sheet that tells you how much was spent. 

Uzaki-chan Wants to Hang Out

A loner in college is constantly shadowed and harassed by an indomitable girl named Uzaki who, true to the name of the series, wants to hang out.

I watched one ep of this show. I didn’t dislike it! I’m a sucker for low stakes slice of life comedies like this where the biggest conflict is whether or not the protag gets to go to the movies alone.

It’s not as clever as other slice of life anime I’ve seen, but it’s not abrasive. The namesake character Uzaki is a bit manic, and the loner is a bit of a bore, but there’s chemistry I could see following for a few more eps. I also just enjoy observing Japanese culture as it unfolds in stories like these. There’s so much to pick up in these kinds of stories, so I may continue on with it, if only out of curiosity. 

The Rising of Shield Hero

A guy gets transported to a world in dire need of heroes. Everyone who is brought to the world is assigned a weapon which they will use to save the kingdom. Our protagonist gets the Shield- considered the weakest assignment. Derided by his allies and cast out after no small number of misunderstandings, Rising of Shield Hero is the story of one man’s drive to do the right thing and save the kingdom that never wanted him in the first place.

This is my second try with Shield Hero. I gave up once before. But now...I’m giving Shield Hero another shot.

I tried this title about a year ago. I was really harsh on its opening ep’, which hinges on a false rape accusation and a typical loner outsider isekai protagonist. Its “best girl” is a character who is introduced by way of being literally purchased from a slaver. None of this was presented in an especially egregious or even disrespectful format, but at the time I was watching it, I just lacked patience for it.

But time is a funny thing. We grow, we re-evaluate, and we make ourselves open to change.

I think I’ve had time to chill out since my first experience with Shield Hero and not be so bothered by the particulars (that, and...well, my experience with Goblin Slayer really put some shit in perspective, ugh). Did I think some of ep 1 was unimaginative? Yes. But was any of it actually a dealbreaker? Nah.I know a lot of good folks who I trust that have really resonated with Shield Hero as it has unfolded. It’s worth giving it another try.

Shield Hero’s setting is beautiful and its characters are certainly drawn to create an emotional investment. We want to root for the the Shield Hero, because he is quietly determined and righteous. We want to protect Raphtalia be cause she is vulnerable and kind. We want to see the antagonists fail because they’re all huge jerks. This aint rocket science, but I’ll grant it is effective and I want to be a part of the ride like so many others are.

I’m going to keep working through this, if only because I know season 2 is a damn event in anime and I don’t want to miss out. I’ll let you know if things keep improving. I’ve done episode 2 thus far, and I liked it more than ep 1. So we’ll see if that trend keeps up.

[365footballorg-blog]

Shankland double floors Thistle

Prolific striker Lawrence Shankland fired Ayr United to a dream start back in the Scottish Championship as the defeated relegated Partick Thistle.

The 22-year-old notched his eight and ninth goals of the season – and his third in two games against Thistle – to fuel more speculation that his future could soon lie away from Somerset Park.

Dundee have contacted the Honest Men about Shankland, who scored a penalty and then netted another ruthless strike from eight yards.

Ayr, last season’s League One champions, have won all five of their competitive games this season, scoring 14 times and only conceding once.

There was confidence in every department against a Thistle side they had beaten by the same scoreline in the League Cup last weekend.

Jamie Adams and Michael Rose were pillars at the back, Robbie Crawford and Andy Murdoch used the ball intelligently in midfield and Michael Moffat and Shankland linked well up front.

Over and above that, Daniel Harvie, Alan Forrest, Declan McDaid and Andy Geggan operated positively on the flanks.

Thistle had six new signings in their starting XI and, even though the new look side had a largely encouraging cup group stage, they struggled to recover from the early goals conceded.

Slater had their best chance on the stroke of half-time, when Ayr goalkeeper Ross Doohan touched his long-range strike round the post.

Match reaction

Ayr United manager Ian McCall: “Robbie Crawford is the best kept secret in Scottish football.

“He’s as good as Shankland in a different way. The boy is absolutely outstanding and great to watch.

“The Thistle defence just couldn’t handle Lawrence. He’s destined to go to bigger things, but he’s here for this season.”

Partick Thistle manager Alan Archibald: “We’ve given them two goals. The game wasn’t over, but the game-plan was out the window – we gave ourselves a mountain to climb.

“We only had four subs because we had a call-off with illness this morning – we had two suspensions and another injury.

“But, yes, we’re still short and we need quality, as you saw today.”

Line-ups[1]

Match Stats[2]

Live Text[3]

Line-ups

Ayr

1Doohan

6GegganSubstituted forFergusonat 86'minutes

16AdamsBooked at 70mins

5Rose

3Harvie

10ForrestSubstituted forMcGuffieat 68'minutes

8Crawford

18Murdoch

11McDaidSubstituted forDochertyat 84'minutes

7Moffat

17Shankland

Substitutes

12McGuffie

14Ferguson

15Bell

19Hare-Reid

23Docherty

25McCowan

Partick Thistle

1Bell

15MelbourneSubstituted forFitzpatrickat 59'minutes

6McGinty

4O'Ware

3Penrice

7Spittal

14GordonBooked at 20mins

17Slater

19StoreyBooked at 72mins

10Erskine

9Doolan

Substitutes

5Keown

20Wilson

21Fitzpatrick

23Sneddon

Referee:

Craig Thomson

Attendance:

3,249

Match Stats

Home TeamAyrAway TeamPartick Thistle

Possession

Home52%

Away48%

Shots

Home11

Away8

Shots on Target

Home4

Away4

Corners

Home4

Away3

Fouls

Home6

Away13

Live Text

Posted at

Match ends, Ayr United 2, Partick Thistle 0.

Full Time

Posted at 90'+1'

Second Half ends, Ayr United 2, Partick Thistle 0.

Posted at 90'

Lawrence Shankland (Ayr United) wins a free kick in the attacking half.

Posted at 90'

Foul by Sean McGinty (Partick Thistle).

Posted at 89'

Attempt saved. James Penrice (Partick Thistle) left footed shot from the left side of the box is saved in the centre of the goal.

Substitution

Posted at 86'

Substitution, Ayr United. David Ferguson replaces Andrew Geggan.

Posted at 86'

Attempt missed. Craig McGuffie (Ayr United) left footed shot from outside the box is close, but misses to the right.

Posted at 85'

Attempt saved. Lawrence Shankland (Ayr United) right footed shot from the centre of the box is saved in the bottom left corner.

Substitution

Posted at 84'

Substitution, Ayr United. Ross Docherty replaces Declan McDaid.

Posted at 83'

Corner, Partick Thistle. Conceded by Andrew Geggan.

Posted at 79'

Attempt missed. Miles Storey (Partick Thistle) right footed shot from outside the box misses to the right.

Posted at 75'

Craig McGuffie (Ayr United) wins a free kick in the defensive half.

Posted at 75'

Foul by Shea Gordon (Partick Thistle).

Posted at 74'

Attempt missed. Andy Murdoch (Ayr United) left footed shot from the left side of the box is just a bit too high.

Booking

Posted at 72'

Miles Storey (Partick Thistle) is shown the yellow card.

Booking

Posted at 70'

Jamie Adams (Ayr United) is shown the yellow card for a bad foul.

Posted at 70'

Foul by Jamie Adams (Ayr United).

Posted at 70'

Miles Storey (Partick Thistle) wins a free kick in the attacking half.

Substitution

Posted at 68'

Substitution, Ayr United. Craig McGuffie replaces Alan Forrest.

Posted at 67'

Attempt missed. Craig Slater (Partick Thistle) right footed shot from outside the box misses to the right.

Posted at 66'

Hand ball by Miles Storey (Partick Thistle).

Posted at 65'

Alan Forrest (Ayr United) wins a free kick in the attacking half.

Posted at 65'

Foul by Chris Erskine (Partick Thistle).

Posted at 63'

Attempt missed. Aidan Fitzpatrick (Partick Thistle) header from the left side of the box misses to the left.

Posted at 63'

Foul by Alan Forrest (Ayr United).

Posted at 63'

Shea Gordon (Partick Thistle) wins a free kick in the attacking half.

Substitution

Posted at 59'

Substitution, Partick Thistle. Aidan Fitzpatrick replaces Max Melbourne.

Posted at 57'

Corner, Partick Thistle. Conceded by Declan McDaid.

Posted at 56'

Corner, Ayr United. Conceded by Sean McGinty.

Posted at 55'

Attempt saved. Alan Forrest (Ayr United) right footed shot from the centre of the box is saved in the centre of the goal.

Posted at 54'

Andy Murdoch (Ayr United) wins a free kick in the attacking half.

Posted at 54'

Foul by Miles Storey (Partick Thistle).

Posted at 54'

Corner, Ayr United. Conceded by Craig Slater.

Posted at 53'

Andrew Geggan (Ayr United) wins a free kick in the defensive half.

Posted at 53'

Foul by Shea Gordon (Partick Thistle).

Posted at 48'

Foul by Michael Moffat (Ayr United).

Posted at 48'

Thomas O’Ware (Partick Thistle) wins a free kick in the defensive half.

Posted at 48'

Attempt missed. Declan McDaid (Ayr United) right footed shot from the centre of the box is just a bit too high.

Posted at 46'

Lawrence Shankland (Ayr United) wins a free kick in the defensive half.

Posted at 46'

Foul by Sean McGinty (Partick Thistle).

Show more updates

goal

References

^ Line-ups (www.bbc.co.uk)

^ Match Stats (www.bbc.co.uk)

^ Live Text (www.bbc.co.uk)

BBC Sport – Scottish

Shankland double floors Thistle was originally published on 365 Football

[youngstarfishcollection-wor-blog]

How To Possess Assets Cash In Grand Theft Car 5 (GTA V)

Grand Theft Car Sixth is v fallen the various other day time and if you're already somehow bored stiff with the largest video game Rockstar offers ever created , or if you're just an in-game sociopath attempting to wail on some specialist numbers, here's a list of cheat codes and hidden secrets currently known for GTAV. GTA Online: Spend a total of $8,000,000 purchasing automobiles included as part gta 5 online money glitch of The Heists Upgrade. However, if you have been prohibited before in GTA Online or put into the cheater pool of players after that it will end up being virtually difficult to end up being un-banned because once you are categorised as a cheater you will always be seen as a cheater by Rockstar and you drop all of your credibility with the Support team. Making money in GTA Online requires a little work, like in actual existence simply. As a result of this glitch Rockstar has began a fresh ban influx and possess been banning lots of accounts to try and get rid of most gta 5 money of the glitched money. This Money Glitch shall help you obtain unlimited money in Grand Theft Auto 5. This GTA 5 Money Glitch functions on all video game and platforms version. The just plausible method is definitely to purchase a million money money's well worth of shark credit cards or make use of some money glitch made by modders and hackers in general public lobbies. GTA 5 Hacks can be a powerful device to gta 5 online money glitch generate cash and popularity in GTA 5. There are other websites, but in fact, they do not work. Parole Time (30 factors): GTA Online: Comprehensive The Jail Break as Heist Leader or Crew. 3 Multi Features: With this Online GTA 5 Hack you'll obtain 3 features under the same device. 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Like the prior gta 5 money money glitches , the new exploit involves taking advantage of character switching between online and Story Mode and selling your car to Los Santos Customs. In the Name of Science (30 factors): GTA Online: Comprehensive The Humane Labs Raid and Series A Financing as Heist Leader or Crew. Get the many out of GTA 5 Online Money Generator by getting large numbers of money and RP to your accounts fast and easy without gta 5 money any complications. Grand Theft Car on-line can be as well-known as ever still, with fresh articles getting released soon and everybody ramping up their Must play it at this point” levels to the max. We possess added different tricks, links and various other resources if you're presently playing Grand Theft Auto 4. I possess performed the research and investigated the best GTA 4 hack sources and websites so that you can save gta 5 cheat period getting them. The GTA Sixth is v Hack Requirements below are outlined for the Xbox One and PS4 version of the game, check back later to see if any new GTA V cheats are discovered, as they'll become added to this web page. Second of all, the GTA Online money glitch tutorial video also explains that you must have money to make money. If you're playing on the PC and not thinking about hot-swapping vehicles in your garage gta 5 online money glitch area to dupe them, redditor SuperSlimek discovered an easy method to get even more cash during Car Sale quests. It costs a lot of money to repair it and starts to explode after launching a few vehicles.

[rylovesjaz]

Update some amount of months after I initially wrote this: I’m about to send this to you and I am scared shitless. I am somewhat excited, which sounds weird because it’s kind of depressing, but I’m glad I’m able to send it now. But mostly scared shitless. I feel like I’m a little bit better now than when I wrote this, so you should know that. You should also know that I’ve written you at least 20 other letters. I’m feeling pretty dissociated today, so that’s making this more difficult, but yeah. I hope this makes things a little bit easier to understand. I love you so much.

-

So. I’ve been thinking about writing this for a long time now. I’m not sure how much time has passed tbh. I’m not sure if I’ll ever get the chance to send this. I don’t even know what I’m going to end up saying, but I’m going to force myself to say something because you deserve that much from me. You deserve much more, but this is all I can do right now. I guess I’ll start with what happened. I’m not shitting you when I say that I can’t remember. I can’t remember the last time we talked or what was said or even what happened leading up to it. I’ve been told that no one really knows what happened to me because I can’t even remember. I don’t even remember the last thing that I remember. I don’t know how far I can think back because my perception of time is warped. I didn’t realize how bad my mental illness was. I have depersonalization-derealization disorder and maybe dissociated amnesia, in addition to bipolar disorder, and some symptoms of OCD (which, thankfully, are rather mild). I added links so you can read more about the stuff, if you want. I might be fucked up, but I’m still a nerd.

Back to the bipolar disorder, it’s known as a progressive disease, so, basically, it gets worse the longer it goes untreated or gets agitated (i.e. by taking the wrong medication, like antidepressants). Looking back, I’ve had symptoms since childhood, so you can imagine how much time it has had to build up. I finally realized that I have been experiencing psychosis in the form of delusions (definition: These are false beliefs that are not based in reality. For example, you think that you're being harmed or harassed; certain gestures or comments are directed at you; you have exceptional ability or fame; another person is in love with you; or a major catastrophe is about to occur.) Apparently believing vampires are going to attack you at 12 years old is not a normal thing. And I experienced a mixed episode for the first time recently- mania and depression at the same time. Holy fucking shit, it was fucking awful. Manic episodes have also worsened- I’ll stay up all night without sleeping (like right now- it’s 5 a.m.), go all day without eating, and have self-destructive urges, like wanting to drink. I’m currently in a depressed mood, but I also feel numb emotionally, which stems from the depersonalization-derealization disorder. So even though I feel like shit, I won’t cry or feel any emotion, positive or negative. I can watch a funny movie, but not find it funny.

As far as my physical health, it’s eh. I finally went to an orthopedic and found out that I fractured my tailbone and it re-healed incorrectly, so I have to have this really weird physical therapy where the therapist basically massages my butt for an hour twice a week. It’s kind of painful, but hopefully it will help the tailbone/hip/butt/leg pain I’ve been experiencing for what I think is years, but I’m not really sure. I also have arthritis in my knees because I’m fucking old. Although sometimes I forget my age.

Some other random things: Music has been everything lately. If you want to listen to what I’ve been listening to, it’s been a lot of Halsey. So much Halsey. My favorites are Control and Gasoline. James Arthur’s new album is great (especially Train Wreck), Wrong by MAX, and Gold by Imagine Dragons. I’ve been listening to the same shit on repeat forever now. I hear so many songs that make me think of you. The ones I can remember are Let Me Love the Lonely by James Arthur, I’ll Come Back For You by MAX, and Let’s Hurt Tonight by One Republic- I just heard that one.

There was something important- okay, I just remembered it as I was saying that. I’m not on meds because I haven’t found the right one. The only thing I’m currently taking is sleeping meds. What else? I’m trying to get all of this crap out of the way so I can get to the emotional stuff. My counselor said that the symptoms of depersonalization-derealization disorder get worse when I’m alone, so I basically constantly have to be around people. I’m also not allowed to read very much because apparently my brain goes ah, yes, perfect time to stop being here. That’s also why I haven’t been allowed to get online and talk to you, or at least update you. Any kind of stimuli, like watching TV or scrolling through Tumblr, for example, lets me lose touch with reality.

Now onto the emotional stuff. I honestly just need to start by saying that I’m deeply sorry. I also believe that words lose meaning over time, though, and I’ve said it so many fucking times by now. I’m sorry for saying sorry so much. I’m sorry for doing stupid shit that requires apologies. I’m sorry for going back on my apologies. If you’ve left me any messages, I’m not able to read them, so I really don’t know how you are or what you’re doing or if you hate my guts. Every time I’ve laid in bed, thinking about what I would say if I got the chance to say something to you, one of the things that always stuck out was that I had to say that I didn’t leave by choice. And it’s not important because I think it will save my ass, because I don’t deserve forgiveness at this point. But for your peace of mind, I wanted you to know that even though I can’t remember what happened, this is the accumulation of multiple mental illnesses that have gone untreated for far too long. My love for you has not wavered- even now when I feel numb, my Jaz is in the back of my mind. I also realize that this is just a bunch of thoughts strewn together in haphazard sentences, so bear with me, please. The point I want to make is that I am still deeply in love with you. Part of me hopes that you’ve moved on just because I want you to be happy. And I know that might piss you off, but true love (to me) is loving someone so much that their happiness is more important than your own. But if you haven’t moved on, that’s okay, too. If I’m in your thoughts, I hope that I’m doing stupid shit that makes you laugh and being a pain in your cute butt.

I’m a little bit afraid to send you this tbh. I keep telling my head it’s just kitten, it’s okay. But you are not just kitten. That’s an insult- you are the kitten. You are my kitten. And I am scared shitless that this will only make things worse. That I will undo whatever healing you’ve already done. Healing you had to do because of me. I’m also scared that you’re going to be angry or even more hurt or disappointed in me or whatever. I hate myself so much for whatever pain you’ve experienced because of me. Even though I can’t feel the self-hatred right now, it’s always there. Anyway baby, I am so tired right now, I don’t think I can write anymore because I can’t seem to make words into sentences and sentences into paragraphs and paragraphs into enough to tell you how sorry I am and how much I miss you and how much I love you. I love you so fucking much. I think it’s even more important to say that I care for you so fucking much. I hope that we’ll get to talk soon. I hope that you’re okay. Please always be okay. I love you an overwhelming amount.

[twocofffins]

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I will update this as I make new friends, and also if you are my fren rn and I forgot to put you on here, please let me know and ill add you as soon as I can!!

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