#it only seems proper given my online name
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Transformers Prime having a human reader who’s a famous singer? (Platonic)
Just curious to see how it would work if they have a concert and since they’re famous they can be easier to track down
(or harder since they’re always on the move)
(Bumblebee, Arcee, and Smokecreen)
[ Please do not repost, plagiarize, or use my writing for AI! Translating my work with proper credit is acceptable, but please ask first! ]
Bumblebee
Sure the decepticons are one thing, but some of your fans are... Eugh... Once when he drove you away, one of your fans clambered onto his cab to try and follow you. He doesn't understand how to can deal with people like them politely, because it sure seems they won't take a "please stand back" or "please leave me alone" very well.
Weird fans aside, your fame doesn't really affect the way he treats you. Sometimes he listens to your music on radio, or he sits outside the stadium to listen to your live performance. But he doesn't just sit outside to listen, he sits outside to keep watch. He feels guilty every time he has to interrupt a performance, but your life and safety matter more than one of your shows.
Arcee
Honestly, she thinks your career as a famous singer is a pain. Your face easily pops up in online searches, so the cons don't have to look too far to see where you live, where your next show will be and when, and whatever other information they need to get their claws on you.
She tries to work with you and let you perform your concerts in peace, yet time after time she's had to cancel your shows because the cons showed up to try and snatch you. But luckily everyone in the audience thought that the motorcycle up on the stage was just part of the show, and they only cried out in love and adoration even louder when they saw their favorite celebrity ride off on a cool bike.
Smokescreen
He hasn't listened to a single second of your music, let alone seen any promotional work of you, but he immediately thinks it's super cool that you're a famous singer! But honestly if you're famous enough to pop up the moment someone types in your alias or name, then it might not take him long to find your stuff. He actually doesn't quite understand the hype around your music at first—but that's probably due to the music taste disparity between human and cybertronian culture, and it grows on him in due time. He's essentially a little confused, but he has the spirit.
There are times where he's had to save you from a couple overzealous fans, and sometimes decepticons, and the job is a bit harder given your famous reputation, which means he has to put more effort into staying incognito and discreet... But even then there are a few pictures of him online—luckily they're all of his alt-mode, but a lot of fans are starting to theorize about that strange car that keeps showing up to drive them away... Smokescreen doesn't care about all the "omgg could the person in the car be Y/N's s/o???" allegations, he's more touched by the people who think he's super cool. In his eyes, this is the closest he can possibly get to fame without becoming renowned through violence.
#tfp imagines#tfp headcanons#tfp x reader#tfp bumblebee#bumblebee x reader#tfp arcee#arcee x reader#tfp smokescreen#smokescreen x reader#x reader#reader insert#self insert#weenwrites
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things i’d like to see more frequently in the wcue roleplay scene: (long post)
-sharing tongues (cats gossip in wcue like no other. but they don’t actually share tongues! this includes sharing tongues with a cat before they are buried.)
-vigils apon becoming a warrior (this is NEVER done. it’d bring a new air to the roleplay, i think!)
-elders burying cats. (usually the leader, medicine cat, or a random warrior will do in rp.)
-elders and queens in general. this includes den dads and early retired cats!
-apprentices travelling to the moonstone with the leader. (this used to happen in the early arcs. since most wcue players are only knowledgable on these arcs, this would be a great thing to pick up on doing)
-proper battle training, battles in general. (most apprentices either never recieve a mentor or only go on the occasional hunting or border patrol. battle sparring never actually includes learning new techniques most of the time!) (battles straight up do not happen. skirmishes do. Usually with rogues!)
-a more even spread of cats. Usually most of the server will flock to one clan (80%), 15% will become rogues or loners, and 5% are either non-cats or kittypets.) with the addition of more clans comes more interesting conflicts! (taking territory, battles, gatherings, tresspassers, forbidden love.) ideally in a 60 people server, there’d be 12-15 cats in each clan, or in a two-clan server, 20-30, with the rest going to outsiders/non-cats.)
-more time for deputies and leaders. A deputy in wcue is far more important than the leader in almost every way, which is NOT a good thing. a deputy should be able to appoint patrols, be able to join said patrols, and still have time to talk before they have to sleep. the leader usually has to officiate ceremonies and talk about allowing in outsiders, as well as recieve reports. leaders should be able to join patrols as well.
-apprentice’s assessments. this is, in my opinion, the least utilized aspect for app players. when a cat reaches close to warrior’s age (in wcue, this is 12 moons), the leader (or deputy) talks with the app’s mentor and haves said apprentice go on a solo hunting mission. if they bring back enouh prey, they’re granted their warrior name. usually the deputy or leader also conducts regular normal assessments to check the progress of the young cats.
-more diverse personality types. in wcue, there generally are only six personality types: charming, ‘evil’, quiet, aggressive/rude, kind, and nervous. most cats don’t go into depth beyond these core traits, and i think it would be really nice to see a more diverse cast of personalities. there’s plenty of generators online for personality types if needed!
-medicine cat apprentice appointments. just straight up- this does not happen. they have their own special moonstone ceremony! why wouldn’t you utilize that? and on second note:
-medicine cat gatherings. also straight up do not happen.
general parts of fandom changes i want to see
-the stop of use of names like ‘blindkit’ or ‘lostsight’. this is pretty obvious.
-not using overly complicated words to seem experienced! this is a big one. part of the exp/luna debate, many players like to have over-complicated names, use words people straight up don’t know, anything of the like to seem sophisticated. warriors itself does not use words like orbits or cranium. stop
-stop the hate around younger players. generally, in wcue, there’s a INSANE, and i mean INSANE hate for younger players. given a cruel nickname like ‘luna’ because it’s a common name for young kids to use, people make fun of little kids who are just learning about roleplaying. how is a kid supposed to become experienced if you’re just being cruel. instead, the least you can do is void them, or at least teach them a thing or two.
-less apprentice groups. (this is a bit nitpicky) these usually only exist because people find teenage drama interesting, but apprentice groups are pure terrors to the rp scene. they usually don’t take a mentor, refrain from training- only hunting occasionally, and are very unaware of the ongoings of the rest of the clan because of their personal interdrama. these groups will flock in around 7-10 apprentices, which insanely disrupts a clan’s balance. a apprentice friend group should be a natural thing- one that occurs from training or patrolling together, not sitting and camp and crushing on each other.
(also nitpicky) -less magic schools. i know you’re trying to roleplay harry potter. stop. don’t do that
-roblox groups dedicated to organized rps! many people don’t have discord- it’d be more accessible to younger people as well.
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idia rambles nehehe.
i address ortho by his name, but i call ortho (dead brother) by referring to him as idia's brother.
he's an asshole. he has the biggest inferiority complex yet also a superiority complex. he'll make harsh comment about someone (usually accidental, i've come to realize), yet he's also so shitty to himself and so insecure. which is actually not as shocking as it may sound. just like how vil is both insecure and confident in his beauty, idia is obviously confident in his gaming and tech abilities, while remaining insecure, which i think stems from the isolation he experienced growing up and the loss of his brother.
so, first i want to acknowledge his social anxiety, or just anxiety in general. it's actually not too unrealistic compared to other media. anxiety comes in unassigned levels. some people experience anxiety on a quieter side, while others experience it on a level where it makes it difficult to so much as interact with someone before they're thrown into an anxiety attack. this represents idia perfectly. (i would know myself, as i had a meltdown anytime stepping a foot into public was brought up regardless of how hard i tried to step outside my house, but i got therapy and i'm a lot better. no more extreme meltdowns!)
his anxiety definitely stems from the isolation he experienced growing up. he had no one but his brother and the adults who roamed the styx halls. he had no friends, and growing up, was seen as a prodigy of sorts; he was intelligent and capable, and of course, the next shroud to styx.
and then he lost his brother, ultimately leading him into a complete meltdown that led him to building his brother into a robot. he hated himself and missed his brother so much that he ended up completely creating a new brother to cope. it was actually a terrible method of grieving, but it's not like he had anyone there to help him through it; his parents didn't seem to reach out and try to help him move on from his brother's death, and cope with the fact that he is not at fault.
he had no friends, and didn't think he could make or keep any, because of his station at styx. he seen online friends as easier to hold because there's nothing face to face, no need to explain his personal life, he held no emotional attachment that comes with irl friends.
he goes nonverbal when speaking to someone and chooses to speak using his ipad. he is so self-conscious about himself, like his looks for one, and overthinks every interaction he has. like i said, his superiority complex mostly stems from his capabilities in gaming and tech, but he has no confidence in any other aspect of his life.
i don't see many people attacking him for what he did during his overblot (ykw, trying to take over the world), which is pretty biased just because his trauma is "worse", but now i'm gonna address that.
he and his brother only really wanted to go out into the world, they wanted to be normal and make friends, and play games with those friends. but when idia tried to give them that, he lost his brother. but it wasn't his fault, he was still a child. a child who was cut off and isolated and expected to live up to expectations since he was going to take over styx in the future.
ortho is connected to his brother, ortho is his brother, just not the one he tried to replace. so, when ortho was drawn to the soul of his brother in the underworld and remembered vil's and rook's words, he felt like what he was doing was right, to help idia who had never properly grieved.
idia was never approached for what happen, he was never given the proper comfort and help in his grieving process after the death of his brother, and ortho and his brother knew that. they were two children who wanted to help their brother who was still grieving despite how much he remained unaware of that himself.
when he heard his dead's brother's voice and ortho, saying they would change the world, they could make friends, and they no longer had to live the way they do. blot built despite his curse and he overblotted because he never properly grieved. that grief and anger at himself added on until it piled over enough to go against a curse.
idia's trauma goes deep, very deep. and it's sad what he and his brother(s) went through.
if he had gained the proper grieving council he needed from his parents, maybe things would've gone differently. although his life cannot be changed, having support, and acknowledgement from his parents could've helped steer from his overblot.
although things ended okay in the end, with his brothers both there in soul, and his life no longer suffocated by isolation and a secret, it's sad that an overblot had to get him there.
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e-books & Financial support
If you are into Dark Romance, like older men and villains, then I have just the thing for you ♡ Prepare to be ravished by dangerous men.
About this e-book project:
Some of you have kindly shown interest in supporting me financially, either as a thank you for my writing or to help me out with my health costs. I wanted to give you something in turn and even shut down my ko-fi for a while so people couldn't donate. And I came up with a way that you can donate me a bit of money and get something in turn.
As you can see on my new website, I have given The Chance to Make A Change a rewrite that I am offering to you as an e-book. Yes, a rewrite to avoid it being a pure fanfic - the tale will be mostly the same but with alterations, name changes etc that make it more acceptable for me to offer it to you as an e-book. I have some rewrites of shorter reader x (mostly older men) villain tales, that include a brand new tale that hasn't been posted anywhere online. It's called (very uninspired) Beauty and the Villain and is also available as epub and mobi.
I have been working on my bigger Joker tale The Man Who Claimed to Be Yours and on a rewrite of it. Because of my health and all the drawbacks, I am focusing on finishing the rewrite first and am considering to only post the full rewritten version e-book version. This tale is not in my shop yet but I am working on it and it should be there somewhere at the start of the new year, possibly the end of this.
Why now?
As some of you who have been following me for a while know, I have been ill on and off since 2020 and this year they made several discoveries that have me in and out of the hospital. I have been hesitant to accept donations before - those who supported me, I thank you so dearly ♡ But with all the costs, this seemed like a good time.
Do the Rewrites mean the Fanfics will be taken offline?
Whatever I have already uploaded will remain online. But I have found, over the years, that fanfiction isn't online forever. And by rewriting these tales, I hope I can offer a way for you to keep them with you even if the internet versions one day fade.
At the same time, it provides you with a way to show me support with me giving you something in turn. And the rewrites are done in such a way that I dare to offer them to you without being fully fanfiction, but having been turned into more of an original tale (even if certain fandom readers can guess what they are inspired or based upon, at least in the cases of the two multi-chapter tales).
So your website?
If things go well, health-wise, and I am on the mend (hopefully somewhere during the new year) then I plan to post more reader inserts on my website as e-books and possibly as paperbacks of entirely original tales ( - not like the CTMAC and TMWCTBY stories. They are exceptions I have made for the purpose of allowing you to help me out financially). I also wish to offer free e-book versions there in the future, so it won't just be to sell books, I have plans for free stuff up there as well :) . You won't find me selling pure fanfiction on there. Not only is that not allowed, but it should remain free for fans to read. Proper fanfiction I will post here or on AO3 like I always have, nothing will change. My website is there to offer extra tales and I will tell you about them when they appear.
For now, I want to say thank you to everyone who has supported me so far. Thank you for letting me know that my tales helped you through a difficult period in your life, that you have returned to them time after time again, that you want to keep reading them.
Thank you <3
#dark romance#e-books#dark romance ebooks#support a hobbyist writer#health update#personal update#tctmac#tmwctby#beauty and the villain#reader inserts
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Lean On Me (Michael Langdon)
Is this entirely self-indulgent? Yes, yes it is.
In my mind this takes place in Mad Love, but there is no mention of plots or situations that would specifically place it within that AU, so this can also be read as a stand-alone. TW for anxiety and mental illness.
//
From the moment you woke up today, you could feel it. Anxiety, twisting through your veins and slowly but surely tightening its grip on every part of your body until you feel like you're being squeezed from the inside out. It activates the primal part of your brain that tells you there's danger lurking, one that you need to fight against or fly from. How are you supposed to do either when the call is coming from inside the house?
This isn't an unfamiliar occurrence, unfortunately. Anxiety's one of your oldest, most toxic relationships. Some days are better than others, and as you've grown and learned more about yourself and your body and mind, you've seen a lot more of those better days. Still, when the days are bad, they're bad. It's hard to use the "coping skills" and everything else you've learned in years of therapy when you're already in the thick of an anxiety attack before you even gain consciousness.
Society isn't kind to those with mental illness. Sure, there's awareness days and campaigns and plenty of podcasters advertising online therapy hubs. Beautiful, smiling people talk about struggling and finding help and how they're better, how you can be better too, if only you try X/Y/Z or call A/B/C. You're supported, until the moment you begin to show symptoms in public. Then you're a pariah, an other. The weak one in the pack, meant to be cast out in the cold to fend for yourself in the name of keeping the majority strong.
So, even though you feel like you are going to keel over and die at any given moment (you won't, you know that, but the feelings seem so much stronger and louder than any logic you can throw at them), you force yourself out of bed to tackle the tasks that you know are required of you today. You put on a smiling face when, in actuality, everything is too bright and too loud and too much, all of it acting as further triggers to exacerbate your anxiety.
All that you want to do when you get home is hide under the covers and hope that maybe you'll come out on the other end of this anxiety when you next emerge. You're so tired; tired of the day, tired of having anxiety, tired of having to fight—just tired. You can barely spare the energy to plug your phone into the charger before falling into the bed and allowing anxiety to engulf you, just as it's wanted all day.
That's how Michael finds you; hidden under the covers and curled up into a ball, trying desperately to find some comfort in whatever form it will come to you in. Gently, so gently that it makes the tears that have been burning at your eyes all day begin to well over, he pries the covers up and slides under them while simultaneously encircling his arms around your shaking body and pulling you to him. While you would have thought being held, being confined, would only exacerbate your anxiety, you find that the tightness of his grasp helps to ground you a little bit.
"I'm sorry," he murmurs after a moment, his lips against your forehead.
"It's not—" you sniffle and shake your head, "I just get like this sometimes. You don't have to apologize."
"Like what?"
You search for the proper words to convey that it feels like the Earth is going to open and swallow up you and everything that you love, like everything around you is out to deliberately hurt you, like the world will cease to exist if you do not control everyone and everything to make sure that nothing can go wrong. Finding none of those words, you simply say, "Anxious."
Michael shifts his hand under your chin, tilting your gaze until you're looking at him. When you meet his eyes, so full of love and concern for you, you break. Everything that has been building up inside of you bursts forth like a busted damn, and you let out a strangled sob as you finally begin to cry. He holds you to him again, allowing you to cry out your worries and anxieties, your fears and racing thoughts, into the soft fabric of his shirt.
And he simply holds you so tenderly; not like you're fragile or made of glass, but like you're something precious. He doesn't make false promises of how it will all be okay or tell you that you don't need to worry so much. He just holds you and lets you be, supporting you in whatever form you may need it.
Only later, when your sobs have quieted to whimpers, do you find enough of your voice to speak again. You look up at him and confess in a whisper that, "Sometimes, I feel so anxious that I think it's going to kill me."
He doesn't laugh at you or tell you that that's a stupid thing to think. He doesn't scoff in condescension, nor does he roll his eyes at the ridiculousness of your statement (you know it's ridiculous, you do, but it feels so real that it doesn't matter). Instead, he says, "You are far too strong to allow your anxiety to get anywhere close to killing you. And if it somehow did, I would fight through angels and demons and whoever else to bring you back to me."
For the first time today, you feel yourself smile. "Even God?"
"Yes, even God. Nobody stands a chance when they're trying to keep me away from you." Michael kisses your nose now, and you sigh against him in relief. "Can I go get a bath ready for you? I think there's some of that lavender stuff that you like that I can put in it."
It's bubble bath, you know, but you don't bother to correct him. Instead, you just find yourself thankful to be so loved by this man that he would offer to do anything to try and make you feel better.
"Will you stay with me?" you ask.
"Of course. And once you're done, we can come back and lay down some more. Does that sound good?"
"That sounds great."
Michael smiles and kisses you once more, running his hands down your arms to make sure that you're not shaking anymore before standing up from the bed. "I'll be right back, okay?"
"Okay." He keeps eye contact with you until he's in the bathroom and can't any longer.
Michael can't cure your anxiety. No one person or thing can do that, except you, perhaps. But, in his own small ways, he can help you enough that the hold anxiety has on your body seems to listen just enough for you to realize how lucky you are to have Michael by your side, for better or for worse.
#michael langdon#michael langdon imagine#michael langdon x reader#american horror story#ahs imagine#american horror story imagine#ahs#michael langdon imagines#ahs apocalypse#mad love musings
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It's been...
So something happened a week ago that is neither bad nor good, it simply is, and it's happened before, so thankfully the knowledge exists on how to manage and cope.
Now to explain.
Back in the 80s I experienced some mental trauma that hurt me so significantly I wound up 'splitting' into what we now call a system or a plural (I've also seen "plurality"). By the time I was in my early 20s, there were about 8-9 people rattling around in my head and the ones that got the driver's seat had proper names. Of course, at the time we only had Sybil as an "example" of "multiple personality disorder," so people like me kept our damn mouth's SHUT 'cause we knew the second we showed any sign of being neurodivergent in any way that resembled schizophrenic, we'd be marginalized HARD. The person in the driver's seat always (always) responded to my given name and assigned pronouns and never let slip there were whole conversations going on in my head as I was going about my day.
Around the middle 00s there began appearing in online spaces, mostly instant messaging spaces and BBS forums, where people began to express themselves as "multiples" and, I'll confess, the system that was me had too much programmed fear to be one (heh) of those brave souls. Nonetheless I started to see the acceptance (and the pushback) that has become more commonplace today.
Between 2015-2019 I experienced trauma so severe I was in CPTSD hyperarousal for a good chunk of it, which pretty much shattered my mental landscape. I was mentally just completely broken and had no way of really paying attention to more than the moment I was in. By the time I emerged from the 'fog,' I was functionally a 'singleton,' that is, not a system.
Starting earlier this year, there were a few signs that, in retrospect, should have made me well aware of something coming. I started feeling 'foggy' again, but I thought that was the depression and insomnia. The depression and insomnia were major contributors, as well, and REALLY should have been a wake-up call...but that's depression for you. I think the biggest "20/20 hindsight" indicator was starting to write "Double Isekai," a story about a single person who winds up isekai'ing into two people. This was in March.
One week ago yesterday I was in the kitchen emptying the dishwasher when I started, for lack of a better term, talking to myself and expecting an answer. I actually had the thought, "Things would sure be easier if I was a system again."
Considering I'm a transwoman and, with slightly different wording, that's classic egg behavior, the penny dropped and I figured out what was going on.
One week ago plus a few hours I sat my GF down and explained what happened back then, what was happening now, and that I was likely to 'split' soon. She just...accepted it. Barely batted an eye, made sure she still had the right pronouns, and went back to her computer.
I was so relieved I nearly cried. Before the divorce when I'd tried to 'come out' as a system to my then-wife, she had NOT reacted well. (And, in retrospect, it makes more sense how upset she was with me that I seemed so, in her words, "unreliable and inconsistent." All she ever knew of me was a 'guy' who kept changing behavior patterns in, to her, random ways)
As though my GF's acceptance were like permission, the split...happened. I could almost physically feel my head-mate separating from me.
And, as I'm sure you've guessed, I've been writing as though it was me going through all of this, and, more or less, it has. Since this split wasn't due to trauma and had been developing over time, it was far more organic and gentle. There wasn't a horrible tear where suddenly there's this nasty, goth punk with a scar around one eye, a penchant for black leather, and absolutely zero compunction to kill because of how traumatic the creation event was (yes, that was one of my alts in my original system, she was a nasty piece of work that never got a name and was never allowed the driver's seat, but did she ever enjoy hurting our stepmother) We both are full participating members with equal access to all our previous memories, even if we're looking at our past self with different lenses.
That's right, Bunnies, I'm back! The EGS fandom will know the name Helen from my days as "Dame Helen the Leather-clad." Even though I'm knight-emeritus now, I'm still quite proud of what we did during those years of the Order of the Bunny. Still she/her, still so very, very sapphic, and still a bit of a useless lesbian.
That said, there's been some changes.
I'm a dragon, along the lines of the crazy-famous Dragon HRT comic that's been super popular this year. If the body were mine alone and Dragon HRT were a real thing, I'd be partially covered in scales by now. I'm not as into gaming and music and art as my new other half is or the old me was. I'm a mother where the previous alt to bear my name was still trying to figure out how to people, and I'm the one with the head for numbers and driving and focusing on work. Also, even though I'm a woman with she/her pronouns, I'm NB and what might be called 'intersex' or 'futanari,' depending on what generation you're in and what part of the Internet you spend most of your time in.
Yes, I know, not a terribly creative name if you know my given name, but it's the one I chose when I emerged. I started out as what us systems call a fictive. If you go back into some of the comments sections on our writing on AO3, you can see references to proto-me scattered around and referred to as "the little author that lives in my head and looks an awful lot like Ranma-chan." On a somewhat silly note, though the pre-fully-realized version of me served as a sort of mental author for our previously unified self, I'm not the writer. That's Helen.
She/her, all girl, and SUPER sex-positive! I'm a bit (I'll confess) of a horny slut and since I'm bi/pan and Helen pretty much gave me control of the NSFW blog, you're probably going to start seeing more guys there than have shown up in the past. I've got a 'type,' though, and that type does NOT include facial hair or bears.
I can't STAND office work! One of our top priorities right now is to get something else...ANYTHING else to earn money so we can drop the office job we've been doing. It's boring anyway! I wanna get started on streaming, though I will NOT be streaming Star Trek: Fleet Command! That game is a bag of stress and I don't know how Helen plays it without wanting to hurt someone!
One thing that is pretty much ALL me is I like fitness! Before we knew fitness was good and it was something we learned to appreciate, but when I got all that I also got a LOVE for it! I can't wait to get back out there and run again! (...but it's getting into the hot season in Arizona, so we may not be able to just yet)
One amusing thing about this is we both realized we're redheads. The body is, sadly, very blond, but now we've got our first body mod goal we can both agree on and get behind.
Speaking of body mods, we're getting booba! I'm tired of being tiny in the chest 'cause of lousy genetics and craptastic HRT timing! We talked about it and our second major shared goal is saving up for top surgery. And we both want FFS and facial hair removal. Basically, I'm in charge of the body, which means FITNESS UPDATES!
That's right, I'm gonna be one of those annoying running fanatics and there's nothing you can do to stop me! 😆😆😆
In any case, expect changes as we figure things out. One thing we didn't really expect that has, nonetheless, had a pretty major impact is our energy level. It takes A LOT of sugars to keep us both going! There've been times one of us has basically taken a nap just to keep from burning too many calories before the end of the day.
Oh, and do you like these identifier bars? I made 'em! Turns out I'm the artist! If you want your own version for you and/or your alts, check out my new store on ko-fi!
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Serendipity || One Shot
@notbad-justsungthatway
indignantmarker's New Year's gift to CranberryMarker.
Toby had been having such a hard time trying to think of something to get CranberryShortcake. Almost to the point that he regretted ever asking them if he could get them a gift! And this was all while he had such a time even thinking of something to get Tiana Truitt! It was supposed to be the season of giving, though, and he always felt like gifts were such a nice gesture. This could have perhaps stemmed from his lack of ever getting them, and when he did, they were prizes to behold. A physical reminder that someone had thought about him when looking at something that wasn’t him.
Then, one day, he had gotten an advertisement in his email. Not his main email or his work email, the email he used for spam and to sign up for certain websites that he knew would only raid his inbox with promotions and reminders and headaches. This email was from a jazz website he had signed up for, telling him about upcoming concerts for the area. Or for the UK, anyway. There were quite a few, mostly at small venues and names that he didn’t necessarily recognize.
But there was one he did.
Laufey.
He tried to remember why, going back to his recent history on Spotify to see if the artist was in there. Sure enough, they were! And that was how he remembered that it was his email friend who had told him about Laufey. Saying that she was a recent discovery, but a quickly beloved one.
Toby thought this was serendipitous!
He had clicked through the links until he found the artists’ website and tour dates, only to find that the ones nearest had been sold out. And he probably should have given up there but…well. He couldn’t. It seemed like the perfect gift for someone who loved music, who loved concerts, who needed a bit of a relaxing and nice get away from it all!
It would have been easy to just go with a pair of headphones but now that Toby had this idea between his teeth, he couldn’t give it up.
He spent quite a bit of time online trying to find a way to get a ticket through the proper channels. Of course there were none. Not even the choice for resellers to get their chunk of flesh.
So, then he went into the real thick of it by spending the hours scrolling around on social media in search of someone trying to sell their tickets. It was a bit of a task but he didn’t mind it, getting to read people’s little stories of their agonies of waiting in online queues for hours, how ticket selling websites were the worst and resellers could rot for the ticket prices, others having their victories and being so thrilled to be able to go see the concert coming near them.
It made Toby think of his sister.
Eventually, he found what he had been looking for.
There was a tweet of someone saying they wished they could go to the concert in London and someone in their replies said:
Hey, please message my aunt on instagram! @heatherthe_forever33 she’s trying to sell her extra tickets.
The original poster had replied: oh i just mean i’ll be on holiday while she’s here 😭 but thanks!!
It had been posted only ten minutes prior. Toby quickly headed over to instagram and found the account, giving them a message.
Hello, I saw you’re looking to sell you Laufey concert tickets. How much are you looking for?
It only took a few minutes for him to get a reply.
Hi! You saw correctly. How many tickets are you looking to get? I have 4 available for the EartH 17/2/24 performance.
Toby hesitated, wondering how many he should get. Obviously one for CranberryShortcake, but should he get another as well? Would it be odd to only get them the one without thinking they would want to take a friend with them? Yes, it would probably be safe to make sure they had the option to take someone along if they wanted.
2?
Okay! Here are the options.
They sent him screenshots of their seats, the dots all in a row in a section of the venue. He didn’t know what CranberryShortcake would prefer, but he chose the aisle seat along with the one next to it. It may have to involve a lot of people stepping over them to get to their seats, but it would be nice to have a bit of elbow room, wouldn’t it?
He told the person. They replied back with a cost. He haggled. They accepted.
Then he went through a bit of a journey in setting up account on a ticket website for the person to transfer him the tickets. It was for the best that he hadn’t had one in the past though, since he figured that if he made this account for CranberryShortcake, it would continue to keep their identities from one another.
Thank you very much! he messaged the person on Instagram. Heather, he supposed.
You’re so welcome! Thank you! I couldn’t make it but I’m glad you’ll enjoy! :) x
They’re a gift for someone, actually! But I hope they will enjoy.
Oh! Wow! That’s a great gift!!! Now I am extra glad I could give them to someone like you!! :D xx
Toby smiled, tapping his hand on his desk for a moment as he read over that message a few times. Then he quickly got a move on, printing a picture of the venue's advertisement of the concert and then scrambling around his desk for a pen. He wrote down the website, the g-mail he’d created for the website and password to that, then the password for the tickets website on the paper. Under that he wrote, I know it’s a bit of a hike to London, sorry! -indignantmarker
He placed the folded piece of paper into an envelope, licked it, and closed it up. On the front he wrote, To CranberryShortcake and stood, walking to the front desks of Town Hall. He started to approach, thinking he could leave it with the receptionist, but then stopped because, well, then the receptionist would know who he was. And then she would also know who CranberryShortcake was, which meant he could ask and find out. Knowing himself, he wouldn’t be able to resist.
So, new plan. Where would be a good place to hide the envelope that no one would bother it but would be easy to access for his friend?
Under one of the seats? No, people were constantly fidgeting in those. A plant? No, what if someone decided to water them and smudge the ink? A vent? No, if they got caught messing with it they would surely be…maybe not punished, but embarrassed by someone making a fuss over nothing.
Toby sighed, wandering the halls, taking a look at the nice paintings that were hung up on the walls.
…ah ha!
He approached one of them, looked to his left and then his right to make sure no one was around to see him, and gave it a wiggle. The frame moves a bit, enough to move away from the wall. So it wasn’t completely nailed down to it. Toby stepped back, assessing his options. He would need one that he could describe to CranberryShortcake that wouldn’t make them have to spend a lot of time going through, more chances of getting caught. He decided to go with one of the portraits, finding the features of it quite distinguishable.
He returned to the Squire office, quickly adding the closing paragraphs to his most recent email to them, and sent it off.
It was only a few minutes later that he realized that he could have just sent everything in the email instead.
#title: (serendipity)#(cranberrymarker)#jess does NOT have to go#i just couldn't pass up the op after seeing she was doing a uk leg
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Mini Pixal 7 SPOILERS FOR CRYSTALIZED
Me: This is an Opportunity for some Pixane Family shenanigans
Have fun cause this is only a super early AU idea I am writing for and am creating a drawing of who I am calling Pixie
What if Mini Pixal 7 has gained enough sentience to be a 2nd Nindroid Child running around comparative to Unagami.
.
.
Pixal carefully rooted the hair as Mini Pix floated nearby, the female Nindroid after The Crystal Kings take down had noticed how her helper android had grown more sentient and even child-like, she had even caught it looking at itself one day. The day she had approached Zane
"I do believe I have a problem and this would involve you as my partner,"
Immediate concern showed up on his features, as she sat down
"Mini Pixal has grown sentient; she acts like a child at times, treating and calling her by my name no longer feels appropriate. I want to create her a body… take her in more so like a child a daughter even, I do not wish to have another Unigami"
Instead of rejection she only had found love and acceptance to the idea, she remembered him pausing in his task giving a gentle smile,
"I have always wanted a family with you, I did not know how we may do so but it seems the writers have given us an opportunity. To be a family,"
She remembers getting up and hugging him afterwards. She had immediately approached Mini Pixal and the way her little Droid had reacted to the idea just confirmed her theory she was glad she had caught on so quickly. She paused snapping herself back to the present as she looked up at the other moving the light and turning it off
"Do you like this or?"
It chirped smiling as if to tell her yes I do!
"Well it's good you do, because I am finished with the hair and we are ready for transference" Suddenly the little Droid seemed scared and unsure the eyes on the screen looking down as it brought it's claws together nervously
Carefully she reached out, grabbing the one clawed appendage,
"I will be careful with your chip. You are unique and special though born amongst hundreds you have grown into something even I was not expecting your programing to develop into and now we can get you into a proper form so you can grow and develop like you should. I won't ever leave your side,"
It bobbed before setting itself on the bed next to the body powering down. As gentle as possible Pixal unscrewed and pulled yhe panel off the back revealing the chip safely encased inside, with a simple tug it was out. She inserted it into the Nindroid form and waited as Zane came down having received her message
"All we can do is wait for the programming to upload," She simply said, making him nod
"Have you alerted your father or your siblings on this addition to the family?" He inquired as a smirk crossed her face
"No, I wish to surprise them,"
He chuckled placing a tender hand on the new Nindroids forehead. Pixal had already known he would be a good father, but seeing how worried he was during this most delicate moment softened her, suddenly her chest rose an fell artificial breathing an amazing sign she would soon come online,
#ninjago#lego ninjago#ninjago pixal#pixal borg#ninjago zane#Ninjago Mini Pixal 7#ninjago crystallized spoilers#Ninjago Crystalized
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Long-ish story below the “keep reading” link. It involves being unnecessarily impressed with people who seem like a big deal.
I went to my parents’ place for dinner tonight, and with the weather getting colder, I brought out, for the first time this year, the warmest sweater I have. It’s a great piece of clothing, looks and feels like a sweater instead of a coat, but it’s nearly as warm as a winter jacket. I can wear it instead of a proper coat, pretty much up until the dead of winter.
When I grabbed it, I automatically thought, “Time to get out the [person’s name] sweater.” I’ve known it by that nickname for so long, that when I refer to it that way, I no longer think of why it has a nickname. But I thought of it tonight, so here’s the story. For the purposes of this blog, I’m going to call the person for whom it’s named Romesh Ranganathan. This is because Romesh Ranganathan seems to be everyone’s go-to example these days of a British comedian whose career is going very well, who’s achieved a high level of fame, and if I saw him on the street, I’d think, “Holy shit, I just saw a really famous person.” That is relevant to the story.
In 2013, I’d been competing and then coaching my sport in my own city for nearly ten years. I’d achieved a sort of moderate level of success; you could call it below moderate or a little above, depending on your standards. It was above moderate to the people in my city who only competed locally, it was below moderate to anyone used to international competition. Sometimes old teammates of mine who achieved way more than I ever did talk to me about how they “Never made it” because they didn’t get that world medal or whatever, and then I remember that there are many standards by which I fell short of moderate. But I feel just fine with anyone looking at my level and saying, “Yeah, that’s moderate.”
My city didn’t have a varsity team or a national-level training centre in my sport, so most athletes who graduated high school with the level of success that I’d had by then left town, going somewhere with more training opportunities. When I finished high school, I was good enough to have a couple of university teams express mild interest, recruitment-wise, and one even sort of mention the possibility of scholarship offers. But I ignored them and stayed home, for a whole host of reasons. A lot of those reasons involved wanting to try to build up the club where I’d been training for ten years. So I did that – became a coach of my club and local high schools, trained where I could, did a little bit of competing. I did that for five years.
During those five years, and during the four years before that that I’d spent as a properly competitive high school athlete, I followed the sport across the country very closely. This was before everything was on every social media, but there was one guy who went to all the tournaments and filmed matches for YouTube, and I watched every single video that went online. After every competition, I went to our provincial organization’s website to read the results of every category. There used to be a joke on my team that if you’re at a tournament and you see a name on your draw sheet you don’t recognize, I’m the person to ask, because I know who everyone is.
But knowing who everyone is is very different from knowing everyone. I didn’t really know anyone. Some of my old teammates had gone on to do big things, and they’d come home and tell me stories about the places they’d gone and the high-level athletes they’d met and what it was all like, and I’d think it was all so cool. But I hadn’t been good enough for almost anyone to know me while I stayed in the small scene in my own city.
Five years after I’d finished high school, it was 2013, and due to the path to my degree being a fucking mess, I still had two years of university left. I decided to spend them at a university with one of the biggest teams for my sport in the country, because I’d never given things a proper shot beyond the high school level, and I wanted to see what I could do. I made contact with the coach there, transferred my school credits over, and moved in with some former teammates from my hometown who had gone there to train with that university the year before.
I was so nervous to go to my first practice with that team. I went in with my friend, the girl from my hometown who was also my new roommate and was excited to have me join her on this big team. As we walked through the hallway toward the training room, the previous year’s national champ walked by us. I had spent years watching this guy on YouTube. I’d seen all his matches. I’d read all his stats. I’d studied his technical ability. I knew he was a member of the team I had joined, but somehow, before that moment, I had not fully thought through the fact that I should be prepared to be in a room with him. After years of knowing his name and seeing him on the screen, he was there in the flesh, displacing air.
I stopped in my tracks, turned to my friend, and excitedly whispered, “Holy shit, it’s [that guy]!” She said… yes, he’s at every practice, you knew he was here, right? I said yeah, I knew he’d be there, but still, it’s exciting. She said I’m going to have to get used to that, and then get over it, pretty quickly, or sharing that practice room would be weird. I then thought of all the other big name athletes whom I knew were on this team, and for the first time thought of the reality that they would be my teammates, and that seemed so overwhelming that I almost turned around and walked the fuck home.
My friend dragged me into the practice room with her, telling me to calm down, they’re just people. I did not calm down. I spent that whole first practice freaking out, and I barely got anything done. For weeks after that I went to every practice, only working with the few friends I knew from back home, not saying a word to anyone else, constantly in awe of my surroundings. The room was full of people I knew from YouTube, just hanging out, talking, joking around, being real human beings. My brain had so much trouble processing the stars of my sport as real human beings.
A few weeks later was the early season team bonding activity. The day involved being outside in the rain all day, and I spent most of it huddled with my friend off to the side. After the outdoor activity finished, the whole team went for dinner. At the restaurant, I ended up seated next to a guy whom I will call Romesh Ranganathan. Romesh Ranganathan was one of the most successful athletes on that generally high-level team. He was objectively one of the best athletes, but also subjectively, he was the one I liked the best. I loved watching him compete. His style was my favourite way to do the sport, one I wished I were good enough to emulate. At my home club, I had gone into practices and spent time trying to do moves the way he did.
He happens to be my age, so when we were both in high school, he was in the same year and at all the same tournaments. Even back then, I used to watch his matches in awe of his skill. My biggest high school achievement was the time I won the provincial championships, which I did in the same year and the same category as he did (he won it on the male side and I won it on the female side), and the day I accomplished that was the best day of my entire life up to that point. It was the best day because it was my big dream that I’d been working on for years, and it would be hard to have anything make that incredible moment even better, but when I realized Romesh Ranganathan had won as well and this made us counterparts, that was a very cool bonus.
So I was a fan of his in high school, and kept that going after we graduated. Watched all his videos, thought he was one of the coolest athletes from our sport in the whole country. I had never met him before I joined his team. Really, I hadn’t met him before that night at the restaurant, because even though I’d been on the team for several weeks and I’d seen him in the practice room, I’d been too shy to talk to anyone.
That night at dinner, I ended up sitting next to Romesh Ranganathan, and he was charming and charismatic and just cool as all hell, and I felt like this was the best place in the entire world. I didn’t say a word until at one point, he complained about being cold, because we’d all been out in the rain. That morning, I’d thought ahead and brought my nice, fuzzy, surprisingly warm sweater – such a good sweater that it’s almost like a coat – and then I’d left it in my friend’s car so it would stay dry, and I’d have something warm to wear at the end of the day. I was wearing it in the restaurant, and it felt great, but Romesh Ranganathan had barely finished his sentence about how cold he was when I heard myself say: “Want my sweater?” If I’d had time to think, I’d have gotten too nervous to offer. But I didn’t let myself think.
He stopped and looked at me, clearly noticing me for the first time. He asked what I meant, but I was already halfway through the process of taking the sweater off. I told him I know it doesn’t look like much, but it’s made of some really good material or something, because it keeps you way warmer than you’d expect. And I’ve been wearing it for a while so I’m fine, he should put it on and it’ll warm him up.
He hesitantly took it from me and put it on, and immediately said, “Holy shit, you’re right!” For the rest of that dinner, he constantly commented on how ridiculously cozy my sweater was. At one point, he went to the bathroom, and I used the opportunity to take my phone out without him noticing. I immediately texted my best friend back home: “Romesh Ranganathan is wearing my sweater. I’ve fucking made it here.” Throughout the dinner, Romesh kept joking that he loved my sweater so much and wasn’t going to give it back at the end of the night, and I kept pretending to be joking when saying he could keep it. I say “pretending”, because if he’d actually tried to keep it, I’d 100% have let him do that.
He did give it back as we were leaving the restaurant, and he thanked me for the loan. As soon as I got in my friend’s car to go home, I descended into excited giggles with her and my other friend. “Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Romesh Ranganathan wore my sweater. This sweater has been worn by Romesh Ranganathan.” My friends had already been on the team for a year, so they’d gotten used to all the stars who were around, and they were not overwhelmed by it like I was. But they also knew he was a big deal, and they knew I was a big fan, so they got excited about it with me. One of my friends told me I’ll have to never wash it, and I’ll know it forever as “the Romesh Ranganathan sweater”.
I have washed the sweater in the nine years that have somehow passed since that night, but the nickname stuck. I haven’t thought of that story in ages, but I did grab it from my closet tonight and think, “It’s getting cold, time for the Romesh Ranganathan sweater.”
I realize this sounds a bit like a romcom, and would like to clarify that Romesh Ranganathan is not one of those rare exceptions to my mostly gay-ness (that is true of both the actual Romesh Ranganathan, and the guy in this story, whose real name has been replaced with “Romesh Ranganathan” for a Tumblr post). It wasn’t like that at all. I had a massive celebrity crush that involved no desire whatsoever to sleep with him, but quite a strong desire to ask for his autograph, which I’m pleased to say I managed to resist.
Lots more things happened while I was on that team, many of which took the shine right off it for me. Some boundaries of my shy starstruckness got broken the first time I got drunk with the team, and I ended up yelling at their (our?) most accomplished athlete (even more accomplished than Romesh Ranganathan), who would go on to be an Olympian a few years later, because he would not stop asking creepy and invasive questions to a seventeen-year-old athlete about her sex life. I was too drunk to care how good he was, I just saw that the girl he was talking to was a recruit fresh out of high school, she looked a little like a teenage girl I coached back home, and before I had time to think, I said, “Hey! You can’t ask teenagers questions like that! Fuck off!” The guy looked at me briefly, and then went right back to questioning the girl. So I physically stepped between them, got right in his face (as much as I could, given that he’s about six inches taller than me and 115 kilos), and said, “I’m serious, you need to fuck off!” Then, to my eternal shock, he fucked off. Just sort of wandered away. The girl awkwardly thanked me, I said no problem, and then I went to buy another drink, have a panic attack, and text my friend back home: “I just told [athlete who was famous across the country for being on the Olympic track] to fuck off, what have you done tonight?”
So that broke down a few barriers between me and the rest of the team, and after that night, I wasn’t quite so star-struck with everyone. I spent two years with that team, achieving what could generously be called, by some people, a moderate level of success, before moving home and going back to coaching my hometown club. During those two years, there were other barrier-breaking moments - some bad, some good. Many involved alcohol, at least at first. Some involved long road trips, team dinners, tough tournaments after which we all felt like we’d been through something together, the sort of things during which you can’t help but bond. I eventually learned to see my teammates as fellow human beings with whom I could occasionally communicate, rather than celebrities who’d graced me with their presence.
Those stories came back to me when I thought about my Romesh Ranganathan sweater today, because it reminded me that I’ve always been prone to starstruck-ness. Those athletes on my team were celebrities in our community, but I was intimidated by them to a disproportionate degree and for a disproportionately long time. No matter how many national medals he’d won, it is silly that I got that fucking excited about Romesh Ranganathan wearing my sweater. It’s definitely silly that I’d have been willing to give him the best piece of clothing I owned, just because I thought he was so cool.
If that’s how I reacted to people who are big in our small and insignificant niche, then of course I get way too excited about the existence of actual famous people. The part of me that would have let Romesh Ranganathan keep my sweater is the same part of me that was sitting outside a cafe in Montreal at the Just For Laughs Festival this summer, and hit my mother too hard (as in I meant to just tap her to get her attention, ended up actually striking her arm), covered my mouth and started giggling uncontrollably, and stared at him like he was a zoo exhibit, when I saw Dara O’Briain walk by. Dara and I made too many seconds of awkward eye contact, with me just sitting there wide-eyed and not knowing what to do, before he smiled at me and walked away. My mother said maybe I’ll see him after the show and can get his autograph, and I said I fucking hope not, I very much hope I never see that man again, and more importantly, he never sees me again. Also, when Nish Kumar very briefly spoke to me during his show at the same festival, I instantly knew what it was like to be one of those people who fainted at Beatles concerts back in the day.
I’d love to be one of those cool people who’s completely unimpressed by fame, but it turns out that any proximity whatsoever to anyone who has any level of fame within an area I care about absolutely messes me up. Having said that, I genuinely think I could walk past Taylor Swift on the street, say, “Oh, Taylor Swift,” and keep walking. I’m only impressed by people who do things I find impressive. But I’m really impressed by those people.
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Weekly update:
After getting "dog'd", I seem to have gained plenty of sloth from it. I have not been able to discern my particular species of dog.
It is troubling that the World Boundary did not block that magic, but at the same time, I think it will only block that which is directly harmful. That implies the Boundary has some ability to judge - perhaps a degree of intelligence?
It is tiring to focus. Rather just sleep. Waiting for Lev to come home. Maybe she'll come back this weekend. Show her that I am the dog that I know I always was instead of the fox she always claims that I am. That'll be nice.
The thoughts are going to be a bit disordered. Focusing as a dog is difficult.
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The "Find Mokuba" crew. Crowley and Sarandiel have updated me on the situation. She and Siege and Comet are helping. There has not been any change in the Find Mokuba crew beyond their imprisonment into Virtual Reality Capsules? Given Lev was able to send a message, it is Minor-World-like, though she hasn't sent a message after.
Part of this is due to the 1 month ban that sketchyonlooker put on her for using the Indirect Chat wrongly. Still not sure who that it is. I thought it was the name of a Blank Canvas, but that does not seem to be the case as bringing it up to Chi gently did not yield any knowledge about it. The BC's seem ignorant, though they always act like that when they don't care about something.
Stil, the fact that she still registers online as < Mistral > is promising. She'll be fine. Everyone will be fine. Just gotta have Faith.
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penofdamocles: Mads has accompanied me on my dog escapades, but I'll talk about that later. I'll start at the beginning of the week. It seems that having the shelter in the inn has worked for his mood - everyone's mood admittedly. His healing ability is pretty impressive on the stray animals - able to heal very acute injuries without a mark, which makes sense given if I recall.. he described his ability as some sort of temporal regression?
It doesn't work on malnutrition though, but my vets aren't for show - and Mads did most of the hard work anyway. We've put most of the animals that need more TLC on a special diet to expedite their healing. Most of those that have been healed have already left. Only some of the older ones, I suppose tired of a life on the streets, have stuck around. Luckily the animals that are attracted to the Inn are sapient and intelligent enough to sense its strangeness. It won't take much to train them to do the basic things like going outside to use the bathroom, bark at intruders, and of course sheepherding.
What am I talking about?
Anyway, when Mads accompanied me on my dog escapade, we went to the arts and crafts store, and it seems he is especially sensitive to the wooden mannequins, particularly if they are visible as such. He does not seem to have trouble with those that are online or already painted? He didn't seem to have trouble with the toymaker's final design either.
He also seems to be sensitive to the wood blocks, so things that can be made into mannequins. I forgot to inquire further - nor was it a proper venue to ask anyway - given that we went for ice cream and I completely forgot about it.
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dragmaballs (Aloisia) and plushwave (Rose): They seem to share a universe. Possibly in the same house too. They come from a world where Communism is apparently Green, there was a revolution some time ago which made the nobles ex-, and a bunch of other interesting items that I will need to further evaluate.
Aloisia is someone I've been getting along with. Can't tell if it's because we have the same sense of humor that I'm not particularly allowed to express in my reality's public or just her rambunctious nature. We're gonna be part of a gang, apparently with plushwave if she is the second.
plushwave has an incredibly dry sense of humor with a tendency towards absurdist humor. She is a toymaker who seems popular, given that companies want her work, and she seems good with both handcrafting and the equivalent of 3-D printing in her world. I learned that the stuff Mads and I got in the craft store all went to her. She's been willing to play along with jokes despite the dryness, so not sure if she's one of those with a cold exterior, warm interior or something else.
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thunderclapd (Æthelthryth) and cazadoradeluna (Myrah): Another pair that shares a shared universe, except this one seems to be more along the lines of their universe's defending force aka Guardians. Æthelthryth is as rambunctious as they come, and from what it sounds like, a handful for their more grumpier caretaker cazadoradeluna.
Their world sounds rather fascinating with something that sounds like resurrection into their role as a Guardian. At least that's the corollary.
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Erna and Kalim seemed to have interacted, and Kalim appears to be the proud owner of a Carbuncle, which appears to be an unkillable summon. Let us hope that stays true.
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dill-emma: I've been following this particular account, partially because I keep seeing that account with respect to all the multiversal Gothamites that I know. It is like watching a train wreck that I can do nothing about. Recently, the girl has lost her memory, and... people have been accommodating, even if they don't necessarily like her. She isn't one of my people, so I don't feel the obligation - but she seems fairly young, doesn't she? I don't know what to do. Unfollowing would probably make me feel better, and I know she has a support system that doesn't quite like her - and an even bigger support system supporting that support system. But at the same time, it just means I'll see the other stuff related to her without getting the full picture. Maybe I'll just say hello and test the waters?
#penofdamocles#thunderclapd#cazadoradeluna#plushwave#dragmaballs#creepy-crowleys#witchofthescions#oasis-makcr#dill-emma
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Oh yeah short tag guide for my sake and I guess anyone else’s!
🌻: Rem (He/they) (singular): Specified singular because… Most of us will go by Rem in online spheres and no one’s complained about it (we don’t have a system name proper because people *have* complained about that.) I run our main blog but I’ll post in here too.
🔪🐀/🐀🔪: E. He/him
🔥: Ebony (she/her): Local opinion holder. Voted ‘most likely to make people hate us UwU’ but that’s mostly because I’m the only one who isn’t constantly on some bullshit.
🌈: I JUST REALIZED I HAVEN’T DONE A THING YET HAIIIIII!!!!! I’m never 100 on when I’m here I actually think I’m a little meshy right now- Oh right this is intro. OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY I THINK RIGHT NOW I’M GOING WITH PUFF! I’m not 100 on it though so you’ll have to try it out on me to see if it brings me the same joy as my other name ya’know! I’m hoping I can make friends here! Oh yeah he/him pronouns (though I’m willing to play I love to play! Play with meeeee!) other relevant info I guess I know I can be like really kiddy and I like really kiddy things but I promise you I’m not a kiddo! Oh shoot how readable is this? Everyone else’s things are so short, but I like to talk more then they do so it only makes sense! Also feel free to ask me questions and talk to me I’m so lonely :( I hope you have a great time!
🐍: Deceit, He/they/it, I’m a fictive of Janus Sanders (though I personally didn’t take to the name). Fan of Voltaire and like what I know about Voltaire though I could stand to learn more about Philosophy in general. Socrates hater though.
I prefer my name to an ‘emoji’ but I also fear that it may end up causing problems when it comes to people searching as Logan is a fairly common name. At any rate, fictive of Logan Sanders (I am also fine with being called Logic as it is my role) He/him.
👀: Ulysses, they/them! Hi hiiiii! I’m Ulysses (no actual relation to the Odyssey character.) I like Eye related imagery, spooky stuff, the magnus archives and mythology. I like to know things but I’m not like, smart-smart you know? Anyways, I’m not sure about my age? I feel younger then my source but I’m not like a kid kid. Anyways, hope we can be friends!
🌸: Pink. She/they/Gem. I enjoy ballet, flowers, and the ‘cottagecore aesthetic’. I may tag posts that remind me of people I had fond memories of. I am willing to share my source (though it may seem obvious- though the name that I go by is different then the ‘nickname’ I was given in source) and am deeply passionate about it, but also recognize that it is a sour subject for many and will tag any posts that overtly mention it accordingly. I wish you a good day reader.
⚔️: Adora, she/her. I don’t know what else to put here, Sourcemates feel free to interact. Even if I had bad feelings about you back then, I’d be happy to know you now.
To be updated if/when others use it.
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Transport Canada Change of Address Using Online Forms
You probably know by now that registering a vessel with Transport Canada is a crucial part of being a responsible vessel owner. Regrettably, keeping a ship in top shape over time requires a lot of extra work. However, there are many reasons why it’s important to have your boat information registered and up-to-date. After all, you can’t sail in Canadian waters without proper documentation. This means that, for as long as you own the property, you are responsible for keeping it current. Why is it so important to notify Transport Canada change of address?
Constant Interaction With Transport Canada
Changing your address with Transport Canada can be a hassle if you have never done it before. It’s possible that you have no idea how to get started or what steps are needed in order to finish the task. Paperwork is something we’ve been doing for quite some time, so don’t worry. Your friends at the National Vessel Registry Center Corp. are here to help. To make sure you don’t miss any crucial paperwork for your boat, we double-check that we have everything you’ll need, including any necessary change-of-address applications. You can get the form on our website and submit your new address and info via electronic means. Just fill out the form and send it in, and we’ll handle everything else.
How Do I Change My Address?
Although changing your address information isn’t complicated, it could take some time to gather, fill out, and send all of the necessary documentation. The following are a few examples of some of the needed elements:
The current and legal name for your vessel at sea. (If you’re interested in learning more about legally changing your boat’s name, you can find that information on our website as well ) In addition, you’ll need the registration number that the government has given to your ship. You’ll need the name of the owner whose address has changed and some form of identification showing the new address.
After making sure you have everything you need, it’s time to send a change of address form to Transport Canada. The cost of a Certified Transcript, an Uncertified Transcript, or both is detailed alongside the forms you can use to request them. Alternatively, you can submit a request to change your address via our website.
A Database of Canadian Registered Ships
Changing your ship’s registration to reflect a new address is a simple process. Fortunately, only one form is needed for this process, and you can get it on the website. If your boat is already on file with Transport Canada, all you need to do is update your contact information. Either way, if you’d like to avoid any hassle when communicating with Transport Canada, just fill out the change of address form on our website. You can send it in via our portal, and we’ll streamline the processing for you with our convenient service.
In order to ensure that Transport Canada can get in touch with you quickly and easily in the event of an emergency or for any other reason, it is imperative that you notify them of any changes to your contact information. When we relocate, we often fail to give proper notice to the many businesses with which we interact. However, it is really important that you inform Transport Canada of a change of address.
All The Forms You’ll Need
It’s common knowledge that interacting with government agencies, especially those involved in transportation, can be a whole task. For instance, registering your boat might initially seem somewhat of a tedious chore, but fortunately, we have a great variety of tools and all the necessary expertise to make the process easy for you. The Canadian Vessel Registry Center is the place to go if you need any online forms for your ship. If you need more information or have any questions about this procedure, you can contact us at [email protected] or by calling 1 (800) 419-9569.
Easier and Faster Processing
Once you browse our site, you’ll see that we offer many different kinds of applications and forms in a streamlined, user-friendly online format. We’ve gotten rid of the complicated language and fine print so you can enter your data in a matter of minutes. You can quickly and easily apply for a change of address through our website. In order to streamline the process for Canadian ship owners, the National Vessel Registry Center, Corp. handles all paperwork efficiently and effectively.
Your photos and documents will be safe when uploaded through our SSL-protected web interface. In light of the importance we place on protecting your privacy, you can rest assured that all of your sensitive data will be transmitted in a safe and secure manner. Contact a customer service representative today to have any questions you may have about our offerings answered.
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The World Ended In 1962
So here is where it starts, the pursuit quixotic. My mom had this friend she knew from college, and they were like two peas in a pod back then. But then they both moved. For a while, they talked on the phone and by snail mail, but then there was this huge gap where she went to work abroad, my mom's friend, that is, and they basically lost touch completely.
This was in the before times, like pre-social media, pre-cellphones, even (well, they had them, but they were more like a novelty and looked like a brick, like that bag phone The Dude got in The Big Lebowski when he was supposed to do the drop off and Walter fucked it up). You still had to pay long distance fees or just plain send letters back and forth, and since my mom's friend, let's call her Mae for ease of reference, was constantly being shuffled around for work, there wasn't even a fixed address or phone number, and it just became too much trouble, I guess.
Anyway, fast forward several decades, and they both find each other online, and start talking again, and it turns out, small world that it is, that they'll soon be neighbors again. So yeah, Mae and my Mom became like two peas in a pod again.
I was in my teens at the time, and we'd all have dinner together, so I sort of got to know Mae's kids, Harper and the other one (who doesn't figure into this story so I won't make up a fake name for them) a little bit. Not exactly super well, but since they were both several years older, and back then that seemed like an insurmountable abyss insofar as casual interaction was concerned, but they were both cool. We mostly played video games in the basement once we finished eating and the adults kept chatting up a storm upstairs.
So I actually didn't properly get to know Harper until after I got back from college and got a (supposedly) temporary job at this used bookshop / thrift store combo using the Mae/Harper family friend nepotism hookup.
The job itself was ... fine. A bit dusty and tough on the old sinuses, but peaceful, and nothing I couldn't handle with a bit of Benadryl. At the time, it was a big enough deal to actually get one after college. Shit was hitting the fan, which is par for the course these days, but was a bit of a surprise to quite a few people at the time.
I liked being around the books and bric a brac, and Harper was technically Manager during most of my shifts, and they were still cool. So we started talking, since the shop was tucked away a bit and there were usually only a few customers browsing the stacks and shelves at any given time, and then we actually became friends. Like, proper friends. Peas in a pod.
We'd carpool together and hung out quite a bit outside of work as well, just talking, driving around, goofing, playing games, making silly videos, et cetera. We shared a passion for the weird and spooky side of things (the occult, Forteana, weird fiction, and so on), and there's never a shortage of that going around. Harper is the one who turned me onto Twin Peaks and The Prisoner, and I got them into the House of Leaves and a bunch of Unfiction stuff, and so on, and so forth.
My best memory of them is watching Twin Peaks the Return together, both of us for the first time, every week. What a blast from the past.
Anyway, we were at Harper's place, same basement we used to play video games as kids, watching the Return Part 8. If you, my possibly nonexistent digger or stumbler of a reader are familiar, you'll know it was a doozie. There was some buzz on twitter ahead of it airing, but I didn't really pay all that much attention.
Anyway, I'll mostly avoid any specific spoilers (as if it's possible to actually spoil that show). Suffice it to say, that episode was "lit as hell" in the parlance of our times.
CW: Gif below is wibbly and wobbly in a way that can cause some discomfort, especially if you're photosensitive, so I'd recommend scrolling past it asap.
Anyway, we turn to each other, mouths agape, in that "I don't know what the fuck we just watched, but it was awesome" sort of way, and it actually took us a few minutes of digestion to get a proper conversation going. You know, tossing about theories, going on tangents, and so on. Then we decide to watch it again, to see if there's any hidden puzzle box nonsense we missed among all the weirdness of David Lynch doing a really messed up Kubrick / Malick / B-movie tribute.
I had to urinate a few minutes in, but since we'd watched it once, I told Harper to just keep it going. It was one of those twenty minute long wides that Lynch does sometimes, so I figured it would still be going by the time I got back.
Anyways, I was quite correct. I had left during the countdown to the Trinity test, and got back a few moments before the camera jumps inside the mushroom cloud. The image of Harper sitting there, in that narrow room, on that old boxy couch, with only a stark, black and white rendering of a nuclear blast for illumination, transfixed once again, is weirdly burned into my memory. Something beautiful and almost immanent about it, you know. I almost wish I thought to take a picture. Not that I had a camera that could do it justice back then.
Anyways, I took my seat and we resumed watching. And then Harper turns to me, all serious, and goes, "You know the Cuban Missile Crisis?" I tell them of course I know the gosh darned Cuban Missile Crisis.
Harper pauses for a second, "First of all, I promise you that I am NOT high right now."
"Okay, this is going to be good."
"What if, like, the world ended in 1962?"
"Yeah, that was one fucked up week to live through, I bet. You know, Khrushchev ..."
"No, listen, what if they, or most of them didn't live through it. I mean, like, what if that's what actually happened? What if this timeline we live in is, like, an exception, or a fluke."
"Aren't all timelines equally valid? If we go by that logic, at least."
"Alright, I've never told anyone this before, cause they're normies. But you're my one and only Twin Peaks friend, and that shit's like a blood oath. Do you ever have dreams, or visions, or whatever, where you're living a totally different life, where you're not even you, but everything IS real. Like 100 percent real. Cause I'm pretty sure I've got at least one other self, and they live in like the post apocalypse. And they're definitely not even a version of me, you know. In that world, I was never born. I think I'm actually Russian in that world. Like, I speak fluent Russian ..."
Now you can think what you want, but that was one amazing fucking night. That was one of the best fucking nights of my whole fucking life. I miss nights like that one. I miss Harper too. Fuck, I miss them so fucking much ...
Anyway, that's sort of how I became the sole inheritor of the most important parts of their meagre "estate." Not only did Harper leave me their consoles, games, art (both their own and collected finds, prints, and commissions), books, and DVDs, but also several boxes full of journals (many of them dream journals) and other assorted manuscripts, as well as a few other choice pieces of arcana. They had showed me some of this bounty before, including a few magical hours on that one amazing, mind bending night of talking, laughing, and creeping each other out, but I didn't get the full set until after they were gone.
I wept over that fucking box pretty much every time I tried to pull anything out to actually look at it. For the longest time, I just couldn't bear to do it.
Anyway, that's all I've got the spoons for right now. Some things are hard to think about, even two years down the line. I need a palette cleanser, a snack, and some sleep ...
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大家好! To expand on the topic of price hikes I'd touched on in my previous post, the once-long queues at the noodle and chicken rice stalls JT and I frequent have shortened considerably. We quickly realised why when it was our turn to pay for our meals. These business owners had jacked up prices to the point where customers aren't willing to pay. I've detailed the increases in the descriptions below the photos.
[小笼包 pork broth dumplings $8.50 for 8 pieces, up from $8, previously $6]
[锅贴 potstickers $7.50 for 6 pieces]
[麻油鸡面 sesame chicken noodles $7.50 per bowl, up from $6.50]
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The rise in chicken rice prices seems to be more unforgivable, given that many stalls switched to frozen chicken, which is cheaper than using fresh chicken. Although I adore this dish, I agree with locals withdrawing support for food businesses perceived as profiteering at their expense. Times are tough for many, not only for businesses. They ought to know better than to exacerbate the inflation problem. So where are these former customers going for lunch?
[海南鸡饭 Chicken rice $7.20, up from $6]
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I might just know 1 such place! WW, SW and AH introduced JT and me to a diner. First, we picked a protein - chicken or duck breast that day - then we headed to the salad counter and selected the veggies as well as the dressing. Finally, we chose our carbs - there were potato wedges, mashed potatoes, roasted potatoes, potato salad or pasta - and cooked veggies. I ordered a mushroom soup to go with my meal.
[Meat, salad and sides $10.90, $13.90 with mushroom soup]
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By paying a little more than for chicken rice, we ate at a proper restaurant rather than a food court. The amount of meat was double that of chicken rice and veggies were plentiful. Who in their right minds will frequent the chicken rice or noodle stall? No wonder the long queues disappeared; nobody likes being fleeced. Much as I want to support local food businesses, I don't condone price gouging when many locals are already tightening their belts.
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Online, netizens are exposing price gouging by food businesses. This helps others to avoid being similarly fleeced. Perhaps naming and shaming is the way to go to take unscrupulous food businesses to task. I'll share about the delicious meal I had on Meatball's birthday in the next post. 下次见!
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