#is this helpful? i fell down a twitter art rabbit hole and want to post about it lol

[kookoofufu]

Hello fellow mishanks enjoyers, I did some digging on twitter for keywords that may help searches on other websites:

ミホーク = mihawk

シャンクス = shanks

シャンミホ (and ミホシャン) = mishanks

ミホーク誕生祭2023 = Mihawk's birthday

シャンクス誕生祭2023 = Shanks' birthday

フランキー誕生祭2023 = Franky's birthday (the art celebrating all three is v funny)

Plus some (mostly) non-english mishanks artists, who might be hard to find otherwise:

[nevermindirah]

I've been drafting and redrafting this meta post for weeks now. It's about to be 5781 and my country that was founded on settler colonial genocide and slavery and a deeply flawed but fierce attachment to democracy might go full dictatorship in about 6 weeks and it's time for me to post this thing.

All our immortals are warriors, all have been traumatized by war. But only three of them died their first deaths as soldiers in imperial armies. This fandom has already produced gallons of meta on Nicky dealing with his shit, because Joe would not fuck with an unapologetic Crusader. But there's very rich stuff in Booker and Nile's experiences and the parallels and distinctions between them.

Nile was 11 when her dad was killed in action - that was 2005, meaning she and her dad both died in the same war that George W Bush started in very tenuous response to 9/11. Sure, Nile's dad could have died in either Iraq or Afghanistan, or in a training accident or in an off-the-books mission we won't know about for a hundred more years, but he died in the War on Terror all the same. I had to look it up to be sure because Obama "drew down" the Afghanistan war in his second term, but nope, we're still in this fucking thing that never should've happened in the first place. The US war in Afghanistan just turned 19 years old. A lot of real-life Americans have experiences like the Freemans, parents and children both dying in the same war we shouldn't be in.

I know a lot of people like Nile who join the US military not just because it's the only realistic way for them to pay for college or afford decent healthcare, but also because they have a family history of military service that's a genuine source of pride. Military service has been a way for Americans of color to be accepted by white Americans as "true Americans" - from today's Dreamers who Obama promised would earn protection from deportation by enlisting, to Filipino veterans of WW2 earning US citizenship that Congress then denied them for several decades, to slaves "earning" their freedom through service in the Union Army and in the Continental Army before it. As if freedom is a thing one should have to earn. Lots of Black Americans have the last name Freeman for lots of different escaping-slavery reasons, but it's possible that this specific reason is how Nile got her last name.

Dying in a war you know your country chose to instigate unnecessarily and that maybe you believe it shouldn't be waging is a very particular kind of trauma. It is a much deeper trauma when your military service, and your father's, and maybe generations of your ancestors', is a source of pride and access to resources for you but your sacrifice is nearly meaningless to the white supremacist system that deploys you. That kind of cognitive dissonance encourages a person to ignore their own feelings just so they can function. How do you wake up in the morning, how do you risk your life every day, how do you *kill other people* in a war that shouldn't be happening and that you shouldn't have to serve in just so that your country sees you as human?

We see Nile do her best to be a kind and well-mannered invader. Depending on your experience with US imperialism, Nile giving candy to kids and reminding her squad to be respectful is either heartwarming or very disturbing propaganda. We also see Nile clutching her cross necklace and praying. From the second Christianity arrived on this land it's been a tool of white supremacist assimilation and control, but like military service, it's a fucked-up but genuine source of pride and access to resources for many Americans whose pre-Columbian ancestors were not Christian, and it's a powerful source of comfort and resilience. This Jew who's had a lot of Spanish Inquisition nightmares would like to say for the record that it's not Jesus's fault that his big name fans are such shitty people.

Nile is a good person trying to do her best in a fucked-up world. "Her best" just radically changed. Her access to information on just how fucked up the world is has also just radically changed, because everything's so fucked up a person needs a lot of time to learn about it all and not only does she have centuries but she won't have to spend that time worrying about rent and healthcare and taxes, and because she now has Joe and Nicky and Andy's stories, and because she now has Copley's inside scoop on just what the fuck the CIA has been up to. Like, I want a fic where Copley tells Nile what was really behind the brass's decisions that led to her experiences on the ground in Afghanistan, that led to her father's death, but also I Do Not Want That.

Nile was 19 when Alicia Garza posted on Facebook that Black Lives Matter. She grew up in Chicago well before white people on Twitter were saying maybe police violence against Black people is a problem. She knows this is a deeply fucked up country, and she put on her Marine uniform and deployed with her team of mostly fellow women of color, and maybe she and Dizzy and Jay marched in the streets between deployments, maybe they texted each other when a white manarchist at a protest sneered at one of them for being a Marine. Nile's been busy surviving, and she knows some shit and she's seen some shit but she hasn't had much time to think about what it all means. Now she's got time. And Joe, Nicky, and Andy are willing to listen. (Is Copley willing to listen? I could see that going either way.)

Booker might also be willing to listen. The brilliant idea of cleaning up the rat Frenchman so that Nile can have millennia of emotional support and orgasms sent me down a Wikipedia rabbit hole, and holy shit do Booker and Nile have a lot of shared life experience as pawns of imperial wars. Obviously Booker is white and a man and that makes a very big difference. (Though G-d help me, Booker could be Jewish and France was knocking its Jews around like ping-pong balls in the 18th-19th centuries. Jewish Booker wouldn't make him any less white but it does add a shit ton of depth of common experience: military service as a way for your country to see you as a full member of society who matters, because who you are means that's not guaranteed.)

Booker was hanged for desertion from the army Napoleon sent to invade Russia as part of his quest to control all of Europe. We learn in the comics / this YouTube video that Booker was on his way to prison for forgery when he was offered military service instead of jail time. While we don't know how he felt about the choice beyond that he did choose soldier over inmate, it's unlikely he thought invading Russia was a great idea, given he tried to desert because Napoleon like a true imperialist dumbass didn't plan for how he was going to feed his army or keep them from freezing to death in fucking Russian winter.

I find it very interesting that the French Empire was at its largest right before invading Russia and fell apart completely within a few years. My country has been falling the fuck apart for a while now - see aforementioned War on Terror, growing extremes of economic stratification in the richest country in the world, abject refusal to meaningfully deal with climate change that US-based corporations hold the lion's share of blame for - but between Trump's abject refusal to meaningfully deal with the coronavirus and strong likelihood that he'll refuse to leave office even if a certain pathetic moderate I will hold my nose and vote for does manage to earn a majority of votes, ~y~i~k~e~s.

Our only immortals who have never known a world before modernity and nationalism happen to have been born of wars that were the beginning of the end for the imperialist democracies that raised them, and I think in the centuries to come that's going to give them some very interesting shit to talk about.

Nile's a Young Millennial, a digital native born in the United States after the collapse of the USSR left her country as the world's only superpower. She's used to a pace of technological change that human brains are not evolved to handle.

Napoleon trying to make all of Europe into the French Empire was a leading cause of the growth of European nationalism and the establishment of liberal democracies both in Europe and in many places that Europeans had colonized. Booker's first war produced the only geopolitical world order Nile has ever known and I just have so many feelings ok. Nile the art history nerd is probably not aware of this, and why would she be? This humble meta author is, like Nile, a product of US public schools, and all they taught me about world history was Ancient Greece/Rome/Egypt/Mesopotamia and then World War 2. Being raised in The World's Only Superpower is WEIRD.

Nile the Young Millennial is used to the devastating volume of bad news the internet makes possible. But she has absolutely no concept of a world where the United States of America is not The World's Only Superpower. In order to get up in the morning and put on her gear and point guns at civilians in Afghanistan, she can only let herself think so much about whether that American exceptionalism thing is a good idea.

She's about to spend many, many years where the only people who she can truly trust are people who are older than not only her country but the IDEA of countries.

She's got time, and she's got a lot of new information at her disposal. But there comes a point where my obsession with her friendship and eventual very hot sex life with Booker just isn't about sex at all. Nile needs someone to talk to about the United States who Gets It. Booker the rat Frenchman coerced into Napoleon's army, and Copley the Black dual citizen of the US and UK who's retired from a CIA career that he half understands as deeply problematic but half still believes in hence his mind-bogglingly stupid partnership with Merrick, are the only people on the planet Nile can talk to honestly about, and really be understood in, all the thoughts and feelings and fears and hopes of her experience as a US Marine.

And one more thing before I go get ready for Rosh Hashanah: Orientalism was a defining element of the Crusades and that legacy is painfully clear in current US-led Western military activity in Afghanistan, Syria, Israel/Palestine, you name it. Turns out memoirs by French veterans of the Napoleonic Wars are full of Orientalist language about Russia as well. I am maybe/definitely writing a fic where Booker spends his exile reading critical race theory and decolonial feminism and trauma studies monographs because he can't be honest with a therapist but maybe he can heal this way and become the team therapist his own damn self. I just really need him to read Edward Said and Gloria Anzaldúa and then go down on Nile, ok?

[cjracingpnf]

Hello to the Tumblr Universe! My name is Chris, aka CJRacingpnf, here to have a good time and hopefully share with you some of my thoughts and ideas about one of the best animated TV Shows of all time, Phineas & Ferb! 😄

What should expect to see here? Well, in the short-term I am working on a P&F related writing project that is going to start very soon 😁. After that, who knows, will probably share some of my art (can also check out my Instagram :D), as well as my fanfic stories as I slowly write them (you can check out my first fan-fic, "Pop Away at My Heart", on A03).

-------------------------------

With this being my first post, I want to shout-out a few people in particular for bringing me to this point, and who have brought such a smile to my face 😁

While I had heard of Phineas & Ferb when it was out in the late 2000's, it took till about June/July of 2021 for me to begin to watch the series from start to finish... And I, as one could say, "Couldn't Help Falling In Love" with the incredible, wonderful, hilarious stories that P&F has.

While I was watching the series through for the first time, I also found the world of P&F fanfiction... Wow that was an experience! 0_0. I spent hours upon hours reading fanfic after fanfic... Some good, some bad, and some that really needed a spellcheck a decade ago🤣

However, one fanfic in particular would change my outlook on Phineas & Ferb and particularly Phinabella forever, that being @authenticcadence18's "Can't Help Falling in Love. It made me smile, made me tear up, and still to this day brings joy to me any time I get a chance to read it again. Beyond that, her incredible talents in art and in singing and in her other storywriting, as well as her general positivity she exudes, really helped me through some somewhat tough times that were going on.

A few months later, while looking on Cadence's Twitter, I saw that she had shared an animated P&F video from YouTube, from someone who's channel was called DBL MP... And again I fell down an incredible rabbit hole, with her amazing singing, song remixing, and animating.

Since then, I have gotten to talk with both of these incredible people, who have inspired me so very much over the past few months. Cadence has been so incredibly kind, giving feedback and positivity when I have asked her different questions related to P&F and beyond, and I am so grateful for the time that she has taken out of her busy schedule to talk to me, it means more then she even knows.

As for DBL MP (or Izzy as she is called) started a Discord group, and over the past couple of months the conversations we have had between us and our Discord friend "Guy" have been so good, both about P&F but also about life in general, to the point where we talk daily about almost anything and everything, and I personally would consider them to be great friends💙.

----------------------------

So yeah, here I am, I hope that you might enjoy, and I cannot wait to see what the future holds!!!😄👏

[cherryeol04]

Flower Boy

Pairing: Felix x Reader Genre: Humor, Fluff Word Count: 1.9K Credits: Credit goes to owners of the images used. 

♥️ 154,355 likes

@memelix - Spent my day off with my best friend. So glad to finally have time to meet up with him. 😭 But I missed my shop! How are you doing my little flowers? 🌺

Y/N sighed as she saved the image via screenshot. Was it weird to save an image of just a normal, everyday guy on Instagram? Probably. But he was just so unbelievably handsome and funny and talented, how could she not? Lee Felix was a full time employee at Beautiful Blossoms flower shop and probably one of the most hardworking people there. 

While his influence was small, he still had a large hand in how popular the shop became. Just a simple scroll through his profile opens a person up to the beauty of floral design - an art really that required a certain set of skills, all of which Felix seemed to be the master of. She found herself to be one of the thousands of people who fell down the rabbit hole of Lee Felix. Like and commenting on all his posts and even attending every Instagram live he did. 

She was, in essence, a hopelessly in love fangirl that was actually too shy to see him in real life. The fact she could easily Felix was terrifying to her. The flower shop was only a fifteen minute walk from her house, in the direction of her school.  Feasibly she could pass by it every day if she wanted. But she didn’t, and it wasn’t for her lack of trying. The last time she attempted to visit the beautiful man, she was greeted with a large crowd of pushy females, all vying for the chance to get inside the shop, waste their money on flowers they didn’t even want and hopefully slip their number to the handsome worker. It had been a nightmare, and she had vowed to never attempt to go there ever again (even if she really wanted to).

And for the past five months she had kept that promise, taking alternate routes to get to and from school. But today - today just wasn’t her day. Her alarms never woke her up because the power had gone off sometime that morning. She had forgotten to plug her phone in to charge that night and woke up to a battery that was 15% and only 10 minutes to get ready before she needed to leave the house in order to get to school on time. But that would mean she would have to skip every part of her morning routine and if there was one thing that she wasn’t going to do, it was skip breakfast. 

Locking her phone, she slipped it into her pocket as she continued down the sidewalk, cursing herself mentally at knowing she was going to be passing the shop soon. She couldn’t afford to take her normal route - it was too far out of the way. Her mind raced with a thousand thoughts, trying to work out different scenarios in her head of how she would avoid the crowd. Should she cross to the other side of the street? Or maybe skirt around the edge of the crowd and pray a car won’t come speeding down the road and hit her? 

Or she could just be rude and force herself through the crowd? No, she couldn’t do that. She wasn’t that mean of a person. Letting out a heavy sigh, she decided that skirting around the crowd was probably the best option. Bracing herself, she turned down the street and was ready to be bombarded with high pitched squealing, but she was greeted with silence. Looking around, she noted how calm and quiet and the sidewalk was. It was empty with the exception of herself and a business man walking a few feet ahead of her.

How odd.

Approaching the flower shop, she hesitated - eyes moving to glance inside. The lights were on, there were people inside but no crazy crowds. What happened? As curious as she was though, she just didn’t have the time to investigate. She was really going to be late and her parents would absolutely kill her if she got detention for it. Shaking her head, she started walking when the bell to the flower shop rang behind her and a voice called out to her. 

“Wait!”

Stopping, she turned to look over her shoulder and nearly tripped over her own feet. Staring at her was the very man she had been staring at on Instagram not five minutes ago. Straightening herself, she pointed to herself after giving a quick look around the area. 

“Yeah, you.” Felix laughed as he strolled over to her, a wide smile on his face. In his hand was a single yellow rose and once close enough, he held it out to her. “Happy National Flower Day.” 

She stared at the rose long and hard, trying to determine if this was some sort of crazy hallucination or something. “Uh...”

“Do you not like roses? I could get you a different flower.” Felix offered and she shook her head quickly, taking the rose from his grasp. 

“No I love roses! Thank you.” She said, bowing politely to him. His reply of no problem fell onto deaf ears as she turned and walked away quickly, cheeks ablaze with a bright flush.

She managed to get to school with a minute to spare, rushing to her first class before the bell rang. She couldn’t focus, however, on school. She was more focused on the rose in her hand and Felix, the bright smiling florist that had given it to her because it was national flower day. She has never heard of such a thing, but it probably existed. She was still in shock that she actually got to meet and talk to him. It felt like a dream come true and it was, but she couldn’t help but feel a little weird about the situation. She wasn’t exactly sure why, but something just didn’t sit right with her.  

It wasn't until she was on her way home that she finally realized what was giving her such a bad feeling. She had received such a precious - even though a simple flower, it meant so much to her because Felix had given it to her. No he didn't know her and probably didn't know she followed him on Instagram, but nonetheless he had given her a rose, an extension of himself. And the reason she was feeling bad is because she hadn't given him anything in return and she wanted to. She wanted to return his generosity, and as she passed by the local craft store, she got a brilliant idea. After all, it was national flower day.

Fifteen minutes later, she emerged from the craft store with a completed project and left over supplies that she had no choice but to take home with her. Her pace was quick, excitement coursing through her at the thought of giving Felix her gift. Butterflies made themselves known in her stomach as she approached the flower shop, and just like that morning, it wasn't busy at all. The only difference is that Felix was standing outside, a basket of roses on one arm and a warm smile greeting anyone who walked by and spared him a glance. For a moment, she thought about aborting her mission, turning around and running away, and she was very close to following through with thought when her eyes connected with Felix.

Crap! He saw her! Well now she certainly couldn't run away and look like a complete fool in front of her Instagram idol/crush. So she did the only thing she could do. She took a deep breath and walked over to him, trying to convey confidence that she didn't even have.

"Hello again." he greeted, voice smooth like honey with a hint of deepness that left she wanting to hear more. 

"Hi." she greeted, a small smile on her lips. Reaching into the bag she was carrying, she pulled out her handmade flower crown adorned with small white roses, a white feather and a few other things she had managed to find in the store. It wasn't perfect by any means, but she was proud of her creation and she was praying that Felix would like it as well. "Happy National Flower Day." Presenting the crown to him, she waited for his reaction, eyes trained on his face and watching for any signs of unhappiness. Thankfully, there was none and when he bent down slightly, she took a step forward and placed the crown carefully on top of his soft, fluffy blond head.

"Thank you, it's beautiful." he said.

"You're welcome! Every flower boy should have his very own flower crown." she told him with a nod.

"Ah true. And now I have my very own, made by..." he trailed off and she flushed, getting the hint rather quickly.

"Y/n! My name is Y/n." she introduced herself, bowing to him again.

"Ah, the pleasure is all mine Y/n. I'm Fel-"

"Felix! Yes I know!" 

"You do?" The surprise was evident and she scolded herself for just exposing herself like that. But it was too late to take it back now. So she simply nodded and offered a soft smile. "Twitter or Instagram?"

"You have a Twitter?" she asked, eyes widening.

"Instagram then." Felix concluded with a laugh. "Well then Y/n, on my next post, tag yourself as 'flower crown girl' and I'll be sure to follow you."

"Really?" She was tempted to pinch herself because sure this was a dream. Felix offering to follow her? A nobody? What could she possibly have to offer him other than boring posts about the weather? 

"Yeah."

"Okay." she agreed, rather easily too. If this wasn't a dream, she certainly couldn't just let this opportunity pass by. That would just be stupid. "I will. Uh, I should get going though."

"Alright, have a wonderful evening, Y/n. Get home safely."

With a few shaky nods, she found herself once more scurrying away with a bright flush on her cheeks - mind reeling from the events that just took place. She spent the next few hours trying to process and understand everything that had happened, but was still in denial that it even happened. That was, until she got a notification that Felix and posted on Instagram.

♥️ 43,234 likes

@memelix - Happy National Flower day my flowers! Hope you all had a wonderful day!🌺

She stared at the post, admiring how beautiful he looked wearing her flower crown. 

Her flower crown.

It had really happened. All of it. It was unbelievable. To be noticed by such a handsome, bright young man like Felix, it really was a dream come true. Biting her bottom lip, she liked the post and sent in her comment, tagging herself as the flower crown girl, just like Felix told her too. 

A minute later she received a new notification:

Felix Lee (@memelix) is now following you

Smiling to herself, she sat her phone down on her desk and turned to finish her homework, though her mind kept wandering to thoughts of the future. She was now one step closer to knowing Felix. So many doors have opened up for her and she hoped one of them contained a happy life with Felix.

Tags: @jisungsjheekies​ @runningonkpop​ @ruellelix​ @luminouskalopsia​ @mrbangchannie​ @starryseung​ @sauceracha​ (Tag list 💜)

[xoxowrestlinggyrl]

Must Be Nice

Requested: No

Pairing: Maxwell Friedman x Reader

Word Count : 1274

Warnings: Angst, Cursing

Summary: Your best friends with Maxwell. You have feelings for him. Maxwell talks about “the rats” around you, and you’ve voiced your annoyance plenty of times to him. He foolishly suggests helping you find someone, and you blow up at Maxwell for the suggestion. 

A/N: It’s been a while since I posted, and I want to thank you for your patience, loves!!  I went down a rabbit hole of listening to music again. Thus, this came about. It’s based off of the song Must Be Nice. If you all like it, let me know, and I will make this more parts. (How many? I don’t know. 😂)

Your  phone vibrated in your pants pocket. You pulled out your phone to see a notification from Twitter. You saw some fanart. A bright smile appeared on your lips as You saw some of the art. It’s crazy how talented people can be when it comes to drawing. You have always wanted to be talented to that degree, but you can’t draw to save your life. You choose to just share the art on your Twitter and shout out the artist. You twisted the cap on your water bottle and took a sip of your drink. You started to go down a rabbit hole of fanart. You saw one of you and Maxwell. Their banter Twitter and your YouTube videos are noted. Your in-ring character, Y/R/N, hates Maxwell. That is the narrative you try to spin. Most of the fans imply their “hatred” towards each other as flirting. On your side it was, but you didn’t think it was flirting on Maxwell’s side. Your grin got wide as you continued to look at the fanart. 

“What are you looking at, Y/N/N?” you jumped at the sound of Maxwell’s voice. You locked your phone screen. The last thing you want is for Maxwell to see you was fawning over fanart of the two of them. No way you’ll be able to explain yourself out of that one. 

Y/N laughed, “Nothing, Maxwell.” You said, and you put your phone back into your pocket. You twisted the cap back on the bottle. “What are you up to?” You wanted to change the subject almost immediately.

Maxwell raised an eyebrow. He thought it was a bit suspicious, but he knows You’d tell him if it is anything of importance. They’ve been best friends for a long time now, so he can trust you would tell him everything.

“Well, I’ve been talking to this girl named Evelynn. I’m going to meet up with her tonight. Y/N/N, it’s going to have all the makings of being a good ass night for me.” He rubbed his hands. He had a cocky smirk on his face. Here we go. Another one of his rats. To say you didn’t like Maxwell talking about the “rats” is an understatement. You hate hearing him talk about these girls he smashes. They only messed with him just to say they fucked MJF. The rats only about The MJF. They don’t care about Maxwell . . . Maxwell Friedman. You could go on and on. When the going gets tough, they wouldn’t be there for him in the end. You would. You have been there for him through thick and thin. The other women just want to be around to capitalize off of his name. That’s it.

You rolled your eyes. Maxwell made a face as he looked at his best friend. He knew how much you didn’t like them.

“I know you hate the rats, Y/N/N, but you know … I have my needs.” 

You rolled your eyes for a second time. “That’s still not an excuse, Max.” 

“I think it is an accurate one, Y/N/N. You have needs too. I wouldn’t hate on you if you decided to go out there, date and smash guys.” Maxwell began. You opened the cap of your water, taking another sip of your drink. You ignored Maxwell’s statement. He knows it’s not your style. Nothing wrong with it, but it’s not you. Maxwell might be trying to help, but he is doing nothing but pissing you off. 

You looked at him, “You know that’s not my style. You don’t have to worry about that ever happening.” You assured him. 

Maxwell thought for a moment, “I’ve been thinking, Y/N/N,” He began. Your eyebrows raised while you looked at him, “I know this might be a sensitive topic, but I am trying to help you, Y/N/N. You're not getting any younger, and I think you need to find a boyfriend. I want to help, I think—” You interrupted Maxwell before he could continue on.

If looks could kill, Maxwell would be dead.

“You think I should find a boyfriend, Maxwell?” You glared at Maxwell as you rhetorically asked. He foolishly nodded his head. You banged your hand against the table as you glared at your best friend,“THAT IS NOT WHAT I NEED, MAXWELL. I DON’T NEED A BOYFRIEND. FRANKLY, I DON’T WANT YOU TO HELP ME FIND ONE LIKE I AM SOME POOR CHARITY CASE!” 

Maxwell put his hands up as a defense, “Woe, woe, woe, that’s not what I mean, Y/N. I don’t think of you as that. I am just wanting to help—” 

“YOU’RE NOT HELPING.” You yelled. You took a breath, “What would actually help me is if you would stop hooking up with brainless rats. The ‘rats’ don’t give a fuck about you. If something happened to you or your career, they wouldn’t be there for you. All they want is clout. You’re dumb enough to think they actually give two shits about you. I care, Maxwell. No, you don’t see that I’ve been by your side the whole time. The ‘rats’ can’t say the same.” You got up from your chair, and you grabbed your water bottle. “If I need a boyfriend so bad, I am just going to go find Jack. I think he would appreciate me a lot more than you, do.” You ran out of catering. You didn’t mean to snap on him the way you did, but you are sick of him talking about the countless women he is able to bag. You shut the door to the locker room behind you, and the tears fell from your eyes. You slid to the floor as you cried. 

Maxwell sat there in shock. What the hell? He didn’t get why you were so upset with him. He was trying to help. If Maxwell were to be completely honest, he exaggerates the stories about the rats. It’s easier for him. He has resigned to the fact you would never be interested in him on that level. Maxwell heard some slid a chair next to him. He saw it was Wardlow. 

“Did you see that?” 

Wardlow nodded his head. 

“I don’t get why she’d yell at me like that. She’s never acted like that before. Y/N/N is usually really chill. It’s not like I did anything wrong.” 

Wardlow looked at Maxwell, and he shook his head. “What was that for?” Maxwell pointed out.

“She likes you.” 

Maxwell looked at him, “No way, She is just looking out for me.” Maxwell was in denial about it. 

“Everyone else can see it. The fans can see it too. Have you checked the comments on her YouTube channel? She likes you, that’s why talking about other women pisses her off.” Wardlow told him. Maxwell is still in denial. He shook his head.

“She  would’ve told me if she did.”

Wardlow scoffed, “This is Y/N, Maxwell. You know what. I don’t feel like arguing. You will have to figure it out on your own.” He patted Maxwell on his shoulder before he got up. Maxwell was left alone again. A sigh fell from his lips. 

Could you really like him? Does Y/N actually like him? You’ve always been friendly with him. That’s all. You told him you wanted to stay single. Maxwell always believed you. You told him everything . . . Also, he can read signals. You didn’t seem interested in him. His head started hurting as he started to think more and more by the second. “Fuck my life.” Maxwell huffed under his breath as he put his head on the table.

[idiot-extraordinaire]

Rest easy, Naya

I don’t know how I feel. I think I just needed to write this to process everything I’ve been feeling these last couple of days. 

I think it’s a mix of grief, shock, pain, sadness, heartbreak and yet the feeling of some sort of closure.

I still can’t believe it.

I’ve been going through a rollercoaster of emotions over the last year, stuck in analysis-paralysis about decisions I felt I had to make about my future, my job, what the next 10 or 20 years of my life were going to look like. I didn’t pray in that time. While I was going through all of that stuff, I didn’t pray.

I started praying again as soon as I heard about Naya going missing. I kept praying for her to be ok, for her to be safe, for her to come home to her little boy. Every succeeding day, it felt like I was praying for more and more of a miracle, but I held out hope. Sometimes it felt like denial. Fortunately, my fandom life and my social media (IG only, don’t use twitter) are kept quite separate, so while posts did occasionally come up in my explore page, I didn’t have to face them too much. I deleted the tumblr app off my phone because I couldn’t look. I didn’t want to lose hope, I still wanted her to come home. My only updates came from the Brittana discord.  

When I woke up this morning, I went on discord and read the news and it felt like my chest was collapsing. The more I read, the more I felt tears in my eyes and before I knew it, I kept crying. I’d manage to pull it together and then I would read another tribute from one of the cast and I would start again.

The only person I’ve really lost in my life was my grandfather. He passed when I was 14 and I remember getting the news and feeling stunned. I didn’t cry at first, I think I was too stunned and I didn’t know how to process it. I still don’t know how to process what’s happening now. He was 80 and he enjoyed a good smoke from time to time, but his death was still sudden. I had never lost anyone before. I didn’t cry until the day of the funeral, a week after he died. I don’t know if it was the sad music the funeral parlour was piping into the room as the mass was happening or watching my cousins and brother start to break when they gave their tributes, but I finally started crying and I couldn’t stop.

Honestly, right now my chest still feels heavy. I think the hope that Naya would be found alive, stopped me from breaking, stopped me from crying because I was praying that when all was said and done, there would only be tears of relief. But here we are.

I found Glee very late into its run, so I never really went through mourning Cory like many of those in the fandom. In fact, I had never fully understood the grief people felt at the passing of a celebrity. And if this is what it feels like ---FUCK--- it hurts. I don’t think I understood how much Naya meant to me until I got that heavy feeling in my chest when she was confirmed missing.

I found Glee late, but when I fell in love with Brittana, I fell fast and I fell really hard. Then I fell down the fanfiction rabbit hole and man-oh-man. If I thought I couldn’t fall harder for those cheerleaders and the wonderful women that played them I was wrong.

I think it’s really impacted me because Naya showed me that it’s ok to be unapologetically yourself, because the people who matter will love you anyway. It’s better to be hated being yourself than liked being someone else. It’s something I’m still learning to do. Naya was there as I grew into adulthood, through college and moves and new jobs and life choices and angst, I had her songs, her scenes, her interviews, her podcast appearances and through social media. I had the wonderfully crafted stories made by authors who loved her and her character, just as much as I did. I found the community who loved her just as much as I did. People found each other because of her. She gave us so much and I’ll never not be grateful.

I still keep on crying on and off and I imagine it might be that way for a few days. I haven’t listened to any of her songs or watch any of her scenes, but I hope I’ll be able to again. Her version of “If I Die Young” was playing in my head over the last couple of days, a weird and heartbreaking feeling because it wasn’t one of her songs that I would often listen to. I am hopeful, though, in my belief that as long as there are shippers and fandom, Naya’s legacy and her work will live on. I know a few years from now, some unsuspecting kid will stumble across her cover of “Valerie” or “Songbird” and fall down the rabbit hole as many of us once did.

I’d always wanted to create for the fandom, but time, life, work, angst, and a variety of things would get in the way. I still want to. I don’t know if it will help heal or it might take some time to get there, but I want to create to help keep her work alive. As I’ve learned, art can have a huge impact on your life that you don’t even realize.

Naya died so suddenly and tragically young, I think everyone is still reeling from it. This shouldn’t have happened. I think about a minor change in the timeline making everything different. Making it so that we are not all here mourning the loss of this young, beautiful, talented and loving woman who had so much more life to live.

I send my thoughts and prayers to her family, her son, her friends and all those who loved her. I can’t imagine how hard this must be for them. She died saving her son, she was a hero. She loved Josey so dearly and I hope that those around him will make sure he grows up knowing how much she loved him and feeling that love. With all the tributes coming out, you can tell what a kind, beautiful soul she had, how wonderful she was and what a loss this has been. She left this earth a better place than she found it. I hope her family and friends find peace and closure.

She’s up there goofing off and laughing with Cory, now. I’m sure he’s looking after her.

Thank you for everything, Naya. Rest easy. We love you. We miss you.

Be kind to yourselves and each other, everyone.

P.S. Kong-Kong, if you see Naya up there, let her know how much she means to me and how much we all miss her.

[youarewarmth]

Trying to mend my broken heart

(a very long post that started off as a letter to myself and others; I wasn’t going to post it, but my therapist said I should try, because it might encourage people to do the same if they’re struggling, so here it is)

So... I’ve been thinking if I should it. Do I have a right? I knew nothing of them – of him – until weeks ago. Can I even speak up? I have to let it out. Will I be scrutinized or listened and understood? I hope it’s the latter.

I knew SHINee was a thing, a band. A Korean band. I think my little sister was into them for a brief moment. I saw the band’s name mentioned on Twitter every now and then, but I never really cared. Just another K-Pop product, as they all are.

I fell into YouTube’s rabbit hole, as we all do sometimes, after I suddenly felt like listening to one of the songs I used to like. “Up next: SHINee – Forever or Never”. I thought “hm, what a coincidence!” and hit “play”.

“Wait… How is this the same song… but better?” I was so confused, but also thrilled. I don’t really like music that much. I have a hard time finding stuff that I really like and once I do, I stick to it until I memorize every note. I liked the version of the song. I really, really did, but I wish I never looked at the comments. That’s where it all started. The spiraling.

“R.I.P Kim Jonghyun you'll be forever in our hearts”

“Rest in Peace, my angel, you did well”

No.

My heart dropped. I looked up one phrase after another. I looked up SHINee, I looked up Jonghyun. Countless videos on YouTube. Of their first performances, of them having fun on stage, music videos, talk shows. Videos of Jonghyun breaking down in tears on stage. Videos of Jonghyung talking about the scrutiny, judgement and – again – breaking down in tears, wanting to be understood and accepted. Of his last show and the pain and emptiness in his eyes. Of how he died. Of his letter. Of them performing without him for the first time. Of “From Now On”. Of “Our Page”.

I couldn’t sleep that night. I’ve been sleep deprived ever since, because my thoughts keep racing and bring tears that I can’t contain. And with tears, immense grief. That’s all I can feel right now.

Why did it hit me so hard? Why him, why now? Maybe because we’re same age and I understand the struggles of getting older in the world where only the youngest can achieve something, though it was much worse for him. Maybe because I know what it feels like to lose a friend so suddenly. Maybe because I know exactly how he felt, even though we had completely different life experience. Or maybe we’re just kindred spirits that experience emotions a little bit too intensely.

You see, I’ve been dealing with depression ever since I was seventeen. That’s when my heart stopped. It was still beating, still keeping me alive, but I felt nothing. Nothingness slowly turned into pain. And hatred. I’ve achieved nothing. I’ve done nothing in my life. I’m a waste of time, waste of space. I was crying for help, but nobody ever listened. I would scream into my pillow every night until I fell asleep, I didn’t want to feel this pain. I wanted it to be gone. _I _wanted to be gone. I can’t count how many times I was minutes, seconds away from the irreversible. I didn’t do it and I felt like a coward. I was too weak to even do this much.

To this day I don’t know how I kept on living despite nobody giving a damn. I wanted to live, but I didn’t. And I think he felt the same. He desperately wanted to live. He was open about his condition, he reached out, looked for help. Except I got the help I needed. He, on the other hand, got scolded by his own “doctor”. He was told that it’s all because of his personality. What personality? A sensitive, compassionate angel? A loving friend? A gentle soul that wanted nothing, but to be an artist? Was it his fault that he was overworked, stressed, judged for every little thing he did? People didn’t really help either.  They would ask “is crying the new way of promoting your music?” Or say that SHINee doesn’t need Jonghyun, that he’s the ugly duckling of the group, or that he doesn’t have to pretend to know how to sing. And I’m angry. I’m so angry, because how fucking dare you?

I can't get the images of his last performances out of my head. They override everything good and sweet about him, because good and sweet is not how he felt in his final days. He felt pain and sadness, he felt old and lacking, he felt like he was so much less than he was. And he was so precious, warm and soft. Just like the fluffy blankets he loved so much. Did he feel his Blingers' love when he looked at them this one last time? Was it any comfort to him that he WAS loved by so many, after all? Did he know how far that love goes?

In his last performances he looks like he accepted his fate. And he just looks empty. He knew. He must have known what was going to happen. He was taking everyone and everything in, he was saying his last goodbyes. And it undid me completely. When he was recording the Shinin' video, did he know? Did he already know and sang "always be with you" to us to let us know that he will always be here even when his body is not?

We lost this pure soul to a disease that could’ve been treated. It was preventable. He could’ve still been with us if he got the help he need. And it truly fucks me up, and I can’t hold back tears – yet again – because he wasn’t supposed to be gone. He was supposed to be here and enjoy his life. Hold hands with girls, kiss boys, date like crazy (for the love of god let your idols date!), marry or not, have kids or not. He was supposed to make all the choices we all take for granted. But depression is a bitch that sneaks up on you and eats you alive, eats you whole, until you’re a shell, an emotionless zombie, and the thought that he probably felt like that… My heart aches for him so much I want to tear it out. I want to go back in time and do SOMETHING. I want him to be happy, grow old and depart when the time comes and not a second sooner. Would he be happy in this time line? Could I pass the strength I've gained over the years to him, so he can power through this life like an absolute champion he was?

I was watching old videos of Jonghyun interacting with other band members and I noticed that he was always craving closeness and human touch. He’d always stroke someone’s back or neck, held hands with them, hug, lean on, pat. And they weren’t big gestures, it looks like he did it all without even thinking. He enjoyed these little gestures that spoke volumes. Or how in the Excuse Me Miss video, where he’s introducing all the SHINee members, almost hyping them up, and when he introduces himself it’s in a much calmer, quieter manner. Can’t put my finger on it, but my first thought was the obvious “he’s so humble”.

In this short time he had such a great impact on my life that I miss him immensely, even though I've never met him like you guys did. I feel guilty, because I feel like I have no right to miss him, and yet I do. And I'm so utterly sad that it's hard to get up in the morning and carry on with my day, that's why I'm writing this. Will it get the sadness out of my system? I don't think it will, but I hope my thoughts and feelings will be less chaotic now. That I will be able to accept the painful reality, stop daydreaming, thinking "what if" and blaming myself even more for something I couldn't possibly help.

The last thing I want to say is that – as crazy as it sounds – I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Jonghyun, that I couldn’t save you. Even though it was impossible, I’m sorry I didn’t do anything, that I wasn’t aware of your suffering, that I couldn’t be your shoulder to cry on when you needed one. I feel like it’s my fault, somehow, and that I should hop into the Future Gadget 204, 2nd Edition Ver. 2.31 right now and beg you to hold on. I wish I could. I wish it was possible. Because it does get better. It gets better. It gets better. It gets better. I don’t want any more people to feel like they’re lacking, like they aren’t enough, like they didn’t do well enough.

So, to whoever reads it and will possibly read this in the future, even if you stumble upon this “letter” a year from now, five hears, ten years; even if you’re not even born yet and it somehow survives, know that I’m here for you and I will always be here for you. If you’re looking for a sign not to do it today – let this be the sign. If you want me to remind you daily that you’re worth more than every star we’ve ever discovered – I’ll do it. I will be your friend, your shoulder to cry on, your safe haven and your protector.

And believe me, Shawols, when I say this - I wouldn't hesitate one bit if I could trade my life for his. This is the point where you go “damn, this woman crazy” and ridicule me to hell, but it won’t change the fact that if I were presented with the opportunity, I’d take it, because I have nothing to lose and there would be so much to gain. I know how many lives he affected and how many people are still hurting, and will be hurting until they meet him again. I don't believe in heaven or hell or afterlife, but thinking that he left this world in pain and there was nothing else waiting for him... I don't want it to be real. I wish he could make you all smile again. With his performances, with his IG Lives, with his wise words that touched so many, with his art, with his beautiful, gentle soul. And I'm selfish, because I want him back even though I know he didn't want to be around.

To you, my dear, dear, Jjong – you were loved. You were SO loved. You still are. You were a kind soul, a light of our eyes, that wasn’t meant for this cruel world. And your people are so proud of you. I truly hope there is life after life and that I will meet you there. And then I will give you the hug I couldn’t give when you were so alone. You will forever live in our hearts, some of which you touched even after your departure, and your legacy will never be forgotten.

I promise I will work hard. I promise to be more kind to people, but also to myself. I know you wouldn't want us to be hurting. You told us many times that we worked hard and we did well, even if they were the smallest things we managed to do at the time.

You were in my dreams the other night. You were sitting at a dining table in what had to be the strangest meet and greet ever and you signed a CD for me. For some reason it was a generic disc that was in one of those flimsy paper CD envelopes, because even in my dreams I have to totally embarrass myself. But you signed the envelope, smiled your beautiful smile and asked me if I'm well. I know it's all my brain's doing, because I've been thinking about you constantly lately, but I like to think that it's because you still very much care about your Blingers and want to check on them. Even on those that came long after you left. Hearing you now hurts, but I know that with time it will feel like warmest homecoming.

You worked hard, Jjong. Very hard. And you did well. And I thank you for that.

[9w1ft]

☔️

it’s been about a month now since TSL shut down. i’ve been thinking of how best to summarize my thoughts on the odd things that happened to me there and i’ve decided it’s best to split my thoughts up into a few posts. this is my first!

so, for starters! drumroll pleaaaaaase 🥁 i would like to clear the air.. i am very excited to say that i have properly identified and spoken to the real KalindaKing!

you may or may have noticed before the app shut down, but KalindaKing actually @‘d me in one of her final posts on the app, saying she had seen my theory but that sadly she is an only child.

unfortunately, yes, KalindaKing was not Kimby Kloss. i uhh, take it she herself confirmed it for me recently!

actually, about a month after posting my theory, a mutual of mine tipped me off to a social media post that seemed to be from someone who might be KalindaKing (the gist of the post was, to paraphrase, i saw a theory that i’m karlie’s sister. i wish!), and i had been keeping tabs on it for some time. the post did not get any traction (no likes, no shares) so there was no way to verify if it was related, but doing some digging and cross-referencing photos and whatnot i was left plenty suspicious.

So about 3 months went by after i had my lede on who it could be, and then 48 hours away from app shutdown KalindaKing @‘d me on TSL... so i decided to take the jump and direct message the suspicious person on social media. and, we had a match! it was her!

Can i just say she is just as delightful as she was on TSL? it was an honor to chat with her. turns out she is an active moderator under the same username on another app by the same company.

actually, 😂 the KK part is really a funny coincidence.. see, the moderator who went by the username KalindaKing on TSL originally created that username for herself because she is a moderator on the Kim Kardashian Hollywood app under the same username (she gave me permission to say that), and, alliteration, so go figure! it would appear i exquisitely took my conjectures a twist too far.

this moderator is a professional, so she did not disclose that much to me, but I was able to learn that the ‘TheSwiftLife’ account was the responsibility of her and someone else. She mentioned that Social (ie twitter/fb) was run by her. Someone else was helping out on the TSL app, ie, that account that gave out those persnickety taymoji gifts on the app. 🤨

for those of you who followed my theory closely, this newly confirmed information has likely allowed you to come to the same heartening conclusion that i did: this means that the “message to taylor” function on the app is in all likelihood indeed something that only taylor can see, or, isn’t accessible to just any glu employee. yes, those personal private messages to her were in fact kept private 🥰. that is to say, leading up to my big guess post, i had disclosed the content of my guess (that kimby was KalindaKing) using this function, asking for the go ahead here on tumblr. my theory is whoever the someone is that was helping out with the TheSwiftLife account did not have access to my secret messages, and that’s where the miscommunication between me and them occurred. oops...

if you are new here, you are probably wondering how sound this logic could be. it would also seem to be completely possible that the TheSwiftLife account simply didn't know i existed / had never read anything from me / had never interacted with me through the app.

to that i say:

i now have proof that at least one moderator from the app read my theory back in October 2018

i now have proof that the same moderator @‘d me in response to the theory 48 hours before the app closed on February 1st, despite having know about it for three months.. so i take it that it merited addressing

let me walk you through a sampler of five ‘interactions’ that occurred with me and TheSwiftLife between August and October of last year:

interaction one: 8/1 Puzzle Heart..

after showcasing some interest in the taymoji gifts and crafting my theory of what they meant, i had seen a through line in terms of the overall message being conveyed but was unsure of any of this was real. i posted here on tumblr for the taymoji gods to send me sign, and the TheSwiftLife account gave out a puzzle heart with the flavor text “put the pieces together” the chances of that taymoji being picked to be given out are, i would say, 1/128 chances. the gift giving was mainly from within a pool of the 64 song-based taymoji packs and always of one of the two rare taymoji from either pack, so, 64x2=128

interaction two, 8/29 Rabbit...

following a week of ttb using the emoji rabbit to welcome some anons into the kaylor fandom, TheSwiftLife gave out a rabbit with the flavor text “Fell down the rabbit hole...”

interaction three: 9/12 Pixels..

things felt surreal following the rabbit... so i asked TSL here on tumblr to show me a sign that proved they knew me and saw me. i said there was one taymoji out of them all (of which there are 653) that represented me. i had hoped for the pixel art heart taymoji, as it says in my profile here that i am a pixel artist... i assumed if TSL wanted to respond to my request, they’d poke around my blog and make that connection. 13 days after i made the post, they gave out that exact one. in response, i mentioned what a lovely birthday present this was, as it was coming 13 days before my birthday (i’m born on 9/25)

interaction four: 9/21 Balloons...

between the pixel heart and this next gift, i came to the conclusion that kimby could be spearheading the TheSwiftLife account (given an interaction between this blog and kimby’s instagram stories involving a yacht company), and, as i love cheesy things, i made the extra (flawed) assumption that, given KalindaKing appeared to be a pen name, it would be super duper ingenious if the KK stood for Kimby Kloss. i sent this prediction in the “secret message for taylor” function on TSL, assuming (incorrectly) whoever was on the other side could read it, and posted here on tumblr simply that “i know who you’ve been, and i take it you want me to share?” The next gift that TheSwiftLife gave out were a set of red balloons from the Mine pack, with the caption “Speak now if it’s your birthday this month”

interaction five: 10/1 Umbrella...

even so, i was very hesitant to go through with pushing my theory. it felt, again, unreal. so, i put up one more test... i asked here on tumblr something in the form of a riddle. I decided to phrase a request for them to give a taymoji in the form of a question. knowing the full range of taymoji possibilities, i picked the flavor text of a taymoji that had never been given out, and a double-rare one (which weren’t given out often) the umbrella, and put out my question: do you have my back even if it rains down on me? and the next gift given out was the very umbrella i expected, which has the flavor text “Don’t worry. I’ve got you covered!”

this span of time in particular (not limited to, but especially) is why i have a hard time not believing kaylor is real. why would taylor’s team let any of this fly, that is, why would they allow a bubbly and vocal kaylor experience this if kaylor wasn’t true?

i encourage everyone to look through my blog archive from August to October to see how it played out! it won’t take that long and i think it’s more interesting than just this post. it’s a sweet slice of time... happening before the political post, and then, the ‘wedding’ thing.

and: if you are to believe that this is all just coincidence, then you have to logically assume that every of the above interactions happened at random, with TheSwiftLife drawing from a catalog of over 100 possible choices each time, and accidentally giving something relevant each time. i am not even going to cover the many many other strange alignments between what i post on here and what kimby posts on instagram. the probability of these taymoji is enough.

even taking out of account the probability of the timing of each, and just looking at it like a kid’s math problem, it’s quite a rare outcome.

what is the probability of insinuating 5 specific symbols and drawing those 5 specific symbols out of 5 bags with 128 different symbols inside each, one after the other? 1/128 x 1/128 x 1/128 x 1/128 x 1/128 = 1/34,359,738,368

a one in 34 billion chance of it happening if it happened randomly.

you only think 3 out of the 5 coincidences above are legit? well that still an over one in two million chance. only believe in one of them? still just an 0.8% chance.

and i picked these five interactions because they hilight five times where there really couldn’t have been multiple “applicable” taymoji responses. i tried to cut out that grey zone for you, because there’s plenty of grey examples to pick from. i suppose with the balloons, they could have picked any birthday-looking taymoji and accompanied the gift with the same caption.. but in that case, it means you have to calculate the chances of them writing the birthday messaging after what happened with the pixel heart... and i don’t know how to calculate that...

i’m not even talking about how some of the taymoji given out twice coincided with celebrity appearances in the world of kaylor. i don’t know how to calculate the probability of karlie saying she’ll go to a taylor concert before a marching band hat is given out, and then her appearing at nashville the day after the marching band hat was given out again. or the paul mccartney coincidence, or the hayley kiyoko coincidence, just to name a few of the most straightforward. i’m not even gonna mention all that business about the app notifications freaking out on my phone (for which i have an excel spreadsheet up my sleeve for later should i decide to nerd out that much)

i don’t even need to touch that.

some epic sh*t was positively afoot, my darlings.

but i digress. pending, you know, ‘proof’, we have no surefire way to know about the who (or who all behind it) all of this is, but, i don’t think we need to be sure of that for the time being (uwu*). i just want to re establish that while KalindaKing was a glorious misfire, the mystery of the app still very much remains.

in my upcoming post (i need to buy myself some eyedrops or something because my eyes are redder than that st. louis park sculpture right now), i would like to rewind for a sec and set the question of who aside and refocus solely on what we learned from the gifts and what we can possibly take away from the experience as a whole.

for now, this is me saying, kimby, oops! sorry i thought you were KalindaKing and sorry for not triple checking with you. my double check was not enough. but i’m glad i took the plunge, because, better an oops than a what if, right? and i hope, at least you got a good laugh out of it! and also thank you lovely sisters ☺️ for you know, clearing the way for me to make this post. at least, that’s what it looked like to me. 📯🕊

[maewestside]

SIX FEET HIGH AND RISING: Glamazon Bravehearts of the Resistance I Salute Thee… by heidi siegmund cuda, aka @maewestside

I like being the shawty of my crew: they’re six feet high and rising. 

Big brains, moxie, bravery, ne’er say ne’er spirit, and a down for whateva tude. Just when I need it the most. Reinforcements. We are bonded by our not-so-secret love of some six-feet-under goppers as well as some modern dems, flawed characters sure, but men and women who taught us much about how to survive in what is still apparently a man’s world.

But truly what we gals have in common is we allow the walls to collapse into us but just momentarily before breathing, flipping the script, cueing up James Brown, “This Is A Man’s World,” and then reminding ourselves not only of all the sisters we have on speed dial but of the men who support us. We are not alone as we soldier on, assuming the heavy load of democracy on our backs, because we knew it would not be easy, because it is never easy.

NATHIN WITHOUT A WOMAN

As we unite forces, the brainy broads with love in their hearts and warrior spirits, and the men who are bringing us not only their a-game of excellence, CEOS, PhDs, White Hats, Vets (of thee we sing), all that and a bag of gifs, all parties, but mostly the party of love. Knowledge. Kindness. More love, more knowledge, kindness, candles along clandestine alleys, Romanians, Ukrainians, Bosnians, Hungarians, invite us to follow them… as they show the horrors of the recent past so we won’t be fooled again. 

We must believe in things we cannot see.

Shit’s real, friends. 

Are we going to be Good Germans now, or are we going to be Americans, who must only look up from their televisions to see all the friends we have across the universe rooting for us to look up from our televisions. The sky is falling. It fell on your laptop, it fell on your news, it crushed the truth for filthy lucre.

BIRDS OF A FEATHER

Truth seekers are standing up, getting on twitter, wearing their love and unity on their sleeves, putting past squabbles behind because nothing is more important than saving democracy right now. And one of our brainy glamazon esq’s says, “No distractions. Fraudsters will lead you down 100 rabbit holes. Only two focuses: Mueller investigation and Congressional investigation.” #word 

So please as we focus on sending light to Bob Mueller… unite, march and don’t be timid on behalf of truth. Join the Bravehearts of the Resistance, you’ll make new friends. We march globally to impeach July 2 (impeachmentmarch.org).

TERMI-NADIR

We’ve descended to the bottom. It’s no longer a reality show, you don’t vote for the guy cuz he was on tv. You turn that shit off, put your nose in books, and move on with your life. Say hello to your neighbor, and stop buying into fear to sell you meds to combat that fear. Please turn off those still suffering the visible scourge$ of #rupertscurvy and #zuckerpunches. 

Please stop #sleepingwiththetvenemy.

NOT-ZZZZS

I’ll tell you a true story. Cuppla years into W’s war, ratings were sagging and I was told to find some not-zzzzs. Being punk adjacent that ain’t no thing. I made a call and found the smartest one I could find. I believe in giving everyone their best shot. So the smartest one I could find told me, “Hey, I just want to give out scholarships to white kids. There are scholarships for other races, and I feel it’s my right.”

Hmm. 

I went back into the office and said, “So there’s a show this weekend, buncha misanthropes and brigands, yeah, ‘Punkvoter,’ buncha carnies…”

https://maewestside.tumblr.com/post/153932938156/slumlord-billionaires-and-other-tales-of

And so instead of delivering not-zzzzs, who will always be there in times of a ratings sag to inject fear and nonsense, I put the camera on something meaningful, Punkvoters who were rocking against W & the War. Thus I assisted my fellow Americans to feel safer about protesting a war of questionable merit. Score one for democracy.

ANARCHY IN THE U.S.A.

Ice T taught me we are here for each other, to work within the system to help each other get a leg up. When the system is kaput, anarchy ensues, and the crew of brainiacs I role with are really trying to save this country with a knowledge swap live on twitter cuz free press has no ownership. Among the innumerable cosmic things we have in common is a deep knowledge of #thuglife. 

Buncha dogooders.

Together we rise.

******

Author Heidi Siegmund Cuda was just honored with a film grant to make a movie on her favorite island. She is humbled by the goodness and kindness of people she has met through the resistance, #bravehearts all.

(above art by dave zaboski, “purpose rising,” drawn at an early resistance meeting, nov. 2016, south l.a. the author sat next to him at the meeting, and watched him sketch, certain he’d gotten it wrong: women had lost. by the end of the meeting, tears had turned into strength, and she realized dave had it right and began her journey out of darkness.)

[dawnajaynes32]

Graphic Designer Todd Radom ‘Winning Ugly’ with New Sports Uniform Book

To be fair, graphic designer Todd Radom’s first-ever book, Winning Ugly, isn’t only about the foul designs of baseball uniforms in the sport’s history. The book has highlights too, even if it celebrates the most talked-about designs of all-time.

New York-based Radom, one of the world’s foremost sports-centric graphic designers, having worked with multiple Major League Baseball teams, along with designing Super Bowl logos and countless other sports logos in his time, fell into authoring a graphically driven book—as a designer, he wouldn’t want it any other way—after writing an editorial about ugly baseball uniforms for the New York Times in Spring 2017. One year later Winning Ugly finally “gets birthed out into the world,” releasing where all books are sold on May 15.

Editor’s Note: Radom landed a spot on the HOW 100: a listing of 100 of the most talented and influential creatives working today. The complete list will be published soon—stay tuned!

“I have always been very cognizant of the fact that this is very visible work I have been engaged in all these years,” he tells HOW. “Viewed through the lens of somebody subjected to quite a bit of scrutiny, sometimes good and sometimes bad, the backbone of the book lies in the fact that people have always cared about this stuff. From the earliest days of the professional game, we find that people were talking about the good and bad of uniforms in the 1860s.”

As a student of the history of the game of baseball, specifically the visual culture of it, Radom finds that baseball uniforms have not only informed his visual worldview, but have also been part of his life for as long as he can remember.

  While Radom doesn’t shy away from words in his new book, writing roughly 40,000, he knows the driver of “Winning Ugly” remains the visuals. “All the words in the world will not equal the visual of a brown and yellow San Diego Padres jersey from the late 1970s,” he says. “I felt it really should be very, very visual. Let words frame the thing, but I’m a visual guy, so it made all the sense in the world.”

Radom structured the book from Skyhorse Publishing in nine chapters, which he called nine innings, a catchy play on the baseball theme, capturing differing eras of uniform history in each. And while the Skyhorse team tackled much of the interior design, it wasn’t without Radom’s own graphical touch. Having designed thousands of book covers in his days working in publishing, he did his own. And he created chapter pages and even extra illustrations sprinkled throughout.

With about 140 total images—he used the help of a baseball historian’s collection to photograph some old-school uniforms—Radom did have to backfill some uniforms himself. In all, he has about 20 original illustrations inside, some renderings of how a uniform likely looked and others artistically driven examples of a team’s history.

“I pride myself on being a DIY kind of designer, working in the trenches as I have,” he says. “It was only fitting that at the end of the day I had to go and get this done in the only way that I could at the end of the project.” One example is an image of the 1901 Baltimore Orioles. There are no clear visual depictions known to exist, so instead he researched the uniform and illustrated it himself.

It was that research that drove him throughout the project, whether writing or illustrating. “I do quite a bit of research professionally because I deal with historic marks for Major League Baseball and Minor League Baseball and have for 25 years,” he says. “That research part is something I really love, and it allows me to time travel down a rabbit hole.”

The writing came naturally too, as he was familiar with the material and was excited to share tidbits that might not have otherwise been known. Throughout the book Radom discusses historical changes, the materials and fashions of the day dictating the on-field designs and even how formative designs were in shaping the future of uniforms. He discusses color, marketing, trends and the 1970s revolution of flamboyancy.

But throughout the project, Radom let the Padres guide him—the front-cover font even mimics the font from the ugliest of San Diego eras. Using a quote from Padres star Tony Gwynn when talking about that brown and yellow—“It may be ugly, but it is our ugly”—Radom knows that fan allegiances remain intensely subjective, common in much of the design world. Intensely subjective, but also intensely supported.

“I approach the whole thing, as this is winning,” he says. “It may be ugly, but it is winning.”

Tim Newcomb covers sports design for HOW. Follow him on Twitter at @tdnewcomb.

In-House Designers, These Judges Await Your Work:

Meghan Newell, senior art director at Lyft

Mike Rice, creative director at Amazon, former senior creative director at Whole Foods, former global design director at PepsiCo, former global creative director at P&G 

Viet Huynh, communication designer at Slack

HOW In-House Design Awards Deadline: June 4, 2018

The post Graphic Designer Todd Radom ‘Winning Ugly’ with New Sports Uniform Book appeared first on HOW Design.

Graphic Designer Todd Radom ‘Winning Ugly’ with New Sports Uniform Book syndicated post

[dawnajaynes32]

Graphic Designer Todd Radom ‘Winning Ugly’ with New Sports Uniform Book

To be fair, graphic designer Todd Radom’s first-ever book, Winning Ugly, isn’t only about the foul designs of baseball uniforms in the sport’s history. The book has highlights too, even if it celebrates the most talked-about designs of all-time.

New York-based Radom, one of the world’s foremost sports-centric graphic designers, having worked with multiple Major League Baseball teams, along with designing Super Bowl logos and countless other sports logos in his time, fell into authoring a graphically driven book—as a designer, he wouldn’t want it any other way—after writing an editorial about ugly baseball uniforms for the New York Times in Spring 2017. One year later Winning Ugly finally “gets birthed out into the world,” releasing where all books are sold on May 15.

Editor’s Note: Radom landed a spot on the HOW 100: a listing of 100 of the most talented and influential creatives working today. The complete list will be published soon—stay tuned!

“I have always been very cognizant of the fact that this is very visible work I have been engaged in all these years,” he tells HOW. “Viewed through the lens of somebody subjected to quite a bit of scrutiny, sometimes good and sometimes bad, the backbone of the book lies in the fact that people have always cared about this stuff. From the earliest days of the professional game, we find that people were talking about the good and bad of uniforms in the 1860s.”

As a student of the history of the game of baseball, specifically the visual culture of it, Radom finds that baseball uniforms have not only informed his visual worldview, but have also been part of his life for as long as he can remember.

  While Radom doesn’t shy away from words in his new book, writing roughly 40,000, he knows the driver of “Winning Ugly” remains the visuals. “All the words in the world will not equal the visual of a brown and yellow San Diego Padres jersey from the late 1970s,” he says. “I felt it really should be very, very visual. Let words frame the thing, but I’m a visual guy, so it made all the sense in the world.”

Radom structured the book from Skyhorse Publishing in nine chapters, which he called nine innings, a catchy play on the baseball theme, capturing differing eras of uniform history in each. And while the Skyhorse team tackled much of the interior design, it wasn’t without Radom’s own graphical touch. Having designed thousands of book covers in his days working in publishing, he did his own. And he created chapter pages and even extra illustrations sprinkled throughout.

With about 140 total images—he used the help of a baseball historian’s collection to photograph some old-school uniforms—Radom did have to backfill some uniforms himself. In all, he has about 20 original illustrations inside, some renderings of how a uniform likely looked and others artistically driven examples of a team’s history.

“I pride myself on being a DIY kind of designer, working in the trenches as I have,” he says. “It was only fitting that at the end of the day I had to go and get this done in the only way that I could at the end of the project.” One example is an image of the 1901 Baltimore Orioles. There are no clear visual depictions known to exist, so instead he researched the uniform and illustrated it himself.

It was that research that drove him throughout the project, whether writing or illustrating. “I do quite a bit of research professionally because I deal with historic marks for Major League Baseball and Minor League Baseball and have for 25 years,” he says. “That research part is something I really love, and it allows me to time travel down a rabbit hole.”

The writing came naturally too, as he was familiar with the material and was excited to share tidbits that might not have otherwise been known. Throughout the book Radom discusses historical changes, the materials and fashions of the day dictating the on-field designs and even how formative designs were in shaping the future of uniforms. He discusses color, marketing, trends and the 1970s revolution of flamboyancy.

But throughout the project, Radom let the Padres guide him—the front-cover font even mimics the font from the ugliest of San Diego eras. Using a quote from Padres star Tony Gwynn when talking about that brown and yellow—“It may be ugly, but it is our ugly”—Radom knows that fan allegiances remain intensely subjective, common in much of the design world. Intensely subjective, but also intensely supported.

“I approach the whole thing, as this is winning,” he says. “It may be ugly, but it is winning.”

Tim Newcomb covers sports design for HOW. Follow him on Twitter at @tdnewcomb.

In-House Designers, These Judges Await Your Work:

Meghan Newell, senior art director at Lyft

Mike Rice, creative director at Amazon, former senior creative director at Whole Foods, former global design director at PepsiCo, former global creative director at P&G 

Viet Huynh, communication designer at Slack

HOW In-House Design Awards Deadline: June 4, 2018

The post Graphic Designer Todd Radom ‘Winning Ugly’ with New Sports Uniform Book appeared first on HOW Design.

Graphic Designer Todd Radom ‘Winning Ugly’ with New Sports Uniform Book syndicated post

[dawnajaynes32]

Graphic Designer Todd Radom ‘Winning Ugly’ with New Sports Uniform Book

To be fair, graphic designer Todd Radom’s first-ever book, Winning Ugly, isn’t only about the foul designs of baseball uniforms in the sport’s history. The book has highlights too, even if it celebrates the most talked-about designs of all-time.

New York-based Radom, one of the world’s foremost sports-centric graphic designers, having worked with multiple Major League Baseball teams, along with designing Super Bowl logos and countless other sports logos in his time, fell into authoring a graphically driven book—as a designer, he wouldn’t want it any other way—after writing an editorial about ugly baseball uniforms for the New York Times in Spring 2017. One year later Winning Ugly finally “gets birthed out into the world,” releasing where all books are sold on May 15.

Editor’s Note: Radom landed a spot on the HOW 100: a listing of 100 of the most talented and influential creatives working today. The complete list will be published soon—stay tuned!

“I have always been very cognizant of the fact that this is very visible work I have been engaged in all these years,” he tells HOW. “Viewed through the lens of somebody subjected to quite a bit of scrutiny, sometimes good and sometimes bad, the backbone of the book lies in the fact that people have always cared about this stuff. From the earliest days of the professional game, we find that people were talking about the good and bad of uniforms in the 1860s.”

As a student of the history of the game of baseball, specifically the visual culture of it, Radom finds that baseball uniforms have not only informed his visual worldview, but have also been part of his life for as long as he can remember.

  While Radom doesn’t shy away from words in his new book, writing roughly 40,000, he knows the driver of “Winning Ugly” remains the visuals. “All the words in the world will not equal the visual of a brown and yellow San Diego Padres jersey from the late 1970s,” he says. “I felt it really should be very, very visual. Let words frame the thing, but I’m a visual guy, so it made all the sense in the world.”

Radom structured the book from Skyhorse Publishing in nine chapters, which he called nine innings, a catchy play on the baseball theme, capturing differing eras of uniform history in each. And while the Skyhorse team tackled much of the interior design, it wasn’t without Radom’s own graphical touch. Having designed thousands of book covers in his days working in publishing, he did his own. And he created chapter pages and even extra illustrations sprinkled throughout.

With about 140 total images—he used the help of a baseball historian’s collection to photograph some old-school uniforms—Radom did have to backfill some uniforms himself. In all, he has about 20 original illustrations inside, some renderings of how a uniform likely looked and others artistically driven examples of a team’s history.

“I pride myself on being a DIY kind of designer, working in the trenches as I have,” he says. “It was only fitting that at the end of the day I had to go and get this done in the only way that I could at the end of the project.” One example is an image of the 1901 Baltimore Orioles. There are no clear visual depictions known to exist, so instead he researched the uniform and illustrated it himself.

It was that research that drove him throughout the project, whether writing or illustrating. “I do quite a bit of research professionally because I deal with historic marks for Major League Baseball and Minor League Baseball and have for 25 years,” he says. “That research part is something I really love, and it allows me to time travel down a rabbit hole.”

The writing came naturally too, as he was familiar with the material and was excited to share tidbits that might not have otherwise been known. Throughout the book Radom discusses historical changes, the materials and fashions of the day dictating the on-field designs and even how formative designs were in shaping the future of uniforms. He discusses color, marketing, trends and the 1970s revolution of flamboyancy.

But throughout the project, Radom let the Padres guide him—the front-cover font even mimics the font from the ugliest of San Diego eras. Using a quote from Padres star Tony Gwynn when talking about that brown and yellow—“It may be ugly, but it is our ugly”—Radom knows that fan allegiances remain intensely subjective, common in much of the design world. Intensely subjective, but also intensely supported.

“I approach the whole thing, as this is winning,” he says. “It may be ugly, but it is winning.”

Tim Newcomb covers sports design for HOW. Follow him on Twitter at @tdnewcomb.

In-House Designers, These Judges Await Your Work:

Meghan Newell, senior art director at Lyft

Mike Rice, creative director at Amazon, former senior creative director at Whole Foods, former global design director at PepsiCo, former global creative director at P&G 

Viet Huynh, communication designer at Slack

HOW In-House Design Awards Deadline: June 4, 2018

The post Graphic Designer Todd Radom ‘Winning Ugly’ with New Sports Uniform Book appeared first on HOW Design.

Graphic Designer Todd Radom ‘Winning Ugly’ with New Sports Uniform Book syndicated post