The process by which Invincible has had to condense and consolidate the plot beats of the original comic, coupled with the opportunity it's granted the writers to tighten up and emphasize its themes on a second pass, has resulted in a newfound appreciation for how unbelievably fucking good Angstrom Levy's whole character concept is. What's that, Mark? Your main emotional crisis this season is your fear of turning out like your father? Here, have an archnemesis who's out to kill you because his memories were inadvertently overwritten with the lived experiences of hundreds of alternate versions of himself whose friends and families were slaughtered in worlds where you did, in fact, turn out exactly like your father. Because it turns out that that is in fact the multiversal norm. That you turn out like your father. And now you're left to wonder what set of arbitrary coinflips pulled you back from that abyss in this dimension, and whether your luck is going to continue to hold into the future.

Inspired by this awesome, hilarious series by @jasonsfavoriteginger, here are my ideas for what the Catfamily (all living in Gotham, happy and on good terms, as seen in my Catfamily Chronicles fanfic series) would do for a presentation night. The Batfamily are importantly also present.

Selina Kyle: Security Update Recommendations. A list of exploitable flaws and weaknesses that she has personally found and demonstrated in the security systems of the Batfamily’s various locations; and genuinely good suggestions on how to fix or compensate for them. The locations are Wayne Manor, the Batcave, Dick’s flat, one of Jason’s safe houses, the Clocktower, Team Batgirl’s Firewall (Batgirl Steph forever! Read her 2009 run if you haven’t to know what this is) and Duke’s Nest. Every slide has photos of her breaking into the spaces clearly labelled with her precise actions, step by step. She maintains a helpful, nonjudgmental tone and straight face throughout. However, the text (which she does just not read aloud, because that’s boring) becomes increasingly sarcastic and mocking, and the content and fact that none of the audience knew about any of these break-ins until now speak for themselves. Afterward she takes in the Batfamily - on a spectrum from shaken to disturbed to terrified - and finally breaks her composure. She laughs so hard she cries. Bruce sheepishly asks her if she can give a similar presentation to the Justice League. The design is simple and classy, elegant black text on a purple background, which helps the mostly nighttime or otherwise dimly lit photos of her in black Catwoman costume stand out better.

Maggie Kyle: How To Look After Your Mental Health. The text is literally just very useful advice with a positive, encouraging tone and the articulation of a psychologist who has herself spent a lot of time in therapy. But in contrast to Selina, Maggie frequently takes a pointed tone and casts knowing, deadpan looks at members of the audience regarding their poor coping mechanisms and self-care, much as Alfred often does. The last slide has ‘Don’t make me call Harley’ in a smaller font size underneath ‘Thank you for your time!’. The background is white and the text, in the nondescript default font, and a range of soft, wavy patterns on the slides are calming shades of blue.

Holly Robinson: My Top Ten Funniest Spying Stories. Her job in the Catfamily is to hang around on the East End streets gathering intel. She is a gossip and anecdote queen. She and Babs have regular meetings for literal and figurative tea, this is canon and you can’t change my mind. The design has a gold background with black Comic Sans text.

Kitrina Falcone: Catgirl’s Guide to HARDCORE Escapology! This is an excuse to brag about her most impressive feats of escaping places and people, including Selina back when they first met, under the thin veil of an educational lecture. The majority of experiences she draws on to showcase different skills are from her time as Catgirl. But some are not. Some are from her adventures as a juvenile delinquent before meeting Selina, and they paint an extremely concerning picture of her childhood. Not that it wasn’t already known to be bad, but still. The Batfamily at least have never got this much detail on how much danger she was in before. Her confident, cheerful, conversational manner doesn’t falter once and she completely ignores the audience’s attempts to follow up on casually mentioned incidents like, oh, you know, the time her uncle and previous legal guardian nearly drowned her by tying her up and throwing her into the sea in a box chained shut. Normal teenager stuff like that. The backgrounds are black with bright pink text and flashy transitions.

“Texts about petty treason clearly depict where and how women murder their husbands, but they have more trouble explaining why women do so. Just as the murderous wife challenged the conceptions of women's legal and moral stature on which marriage and social order depended, she also posed a problem for the many writers-hacks, ministers, legal personnel (judges, justices of the peace, clerks, and theorists), chroniclers, playwrights, and balladeers-who rushed to tell and sell her story. These authors attempt to tell a story in which a wife becomes the protagonist without conferring too much authority, prestige, or sympathy on a criminal, married woman. 

For only through transgression could such women, usually wives of yeomen, shopkeepers, tradesmen, and small landowners, demand attention outside of the household and neighborhood; only thus could they become the topic of debate in legal treatises and on streetcomers, the focus of attention in courtrooms and on scaffolds; only through transgression could they command a place at the center of a popular narrative as the protagonist of the story. If killing her husband made it possible for a wife to be at the center of a story, it remained a difficult story to tell. Certainly pamphlets describe who did what to whom with ease. Yet the texts that struggle to tell the story of a wife's transgression attempt to redress it through a didacticism that restricts the narration of her motives and desires. 

Once the writers begin to explore motives, they lose control of the moral of the story, for the more the reader engages with the wife the less simple the lesson becomes. To imagine, let alone sympathize or identify with, the frustrations of a wife is to question the legal and moral assumption that in the household there is only one citizen, one legal agent, one property owner, one decision maker: the husband. Some sixteenth- and seventeenth-century texts employ an explanation for the behavior of murderous wives that we often see in today's news and in popular culture; they represent the murderer as a battered wife who resorts to violence in despair and self-defense. Contrary to reductive analyses of the early modern family and the position of women in it, these period texts suggest a popular perception that husbands sometimes beat their wives to an extent that exceeded lawful correction and prudence and that beatings put wives in "a fit humour for the devill to worke on." 

Alice Clarke, for instance, is described as having visible bruises at the time that she is apprehended and examined for killing her husband. Even Henry Goodcole, the minister who counsels her and writes the gruesomely titled The Adultresses Funerall Day (1635) about her case, sees a connection between those bruises and her actions. The beatings described in such texts include not only drunken and impulsive assaults "with the next cudgell that came accidentally unto his hand" but also sadistic, eroticized rituals, such as "tying her to his bed-post to strip her and whippe her, etc." Although pamphlets exploit the titillation of such stories, despite the coy propriety of that "etc.," they also suggest that husbands could be uncontrolled, savage, and "unnatural," and that wives, especially those isolated from friends and neighbors by shame, distance, and religious or ethnic difference, might have felt that violence was their only recourse. 

Under common law, husbands had a legal right to beat their wives; however, the limits on this right were debated in conduct literature and explored in ecclesiastical courts when members of the community feared that excessive beatings threatened the wife's life and the peace of the neighborhood. The law did not spell out the limits on discipline except to assume that husbands did not have the right to kill their wives. As Martin Ingram explains, "Domestic relations were thus on the borders of public and private morality in this period-matters to be influenced by exhortation but not ordinarily by the exercise of formal discipline." To say that domestic relations remained outside "formal" discipline is not to say that they were unobserved or unregulated; neighbors and the local community exerted informal control over marriage and domesticity in many ways, including confrontation, shaming rituals, and bringing the offending couple before the justice of the peace for "unquietness." 

A husband's authority over his wife remained legally and morally ambiguous, even if the community's scrutiny constrained him. Since a husband's treatment of his wife remained largely beyond legal regulation, conduct literature appealed to the husband's judgment, urging him to regulate himself. In one of the many discussions of wifebeating in conduct literature, William Gouge suggests that beating one's wife undermines household governance because it opens up a space between the husband and wife, revealing that they are not one flesh, not one legal agent, but two: "Now a wife having no ground to be perswaded that her husband hath authority to beat her, what hope is there that she will patiently beare it, and be bettered by it? Or rather is it not likely that she will if she can, rise against him, over-master him (as many do) and never doe any duty aright?"

The husband's violence threatens to incite a contest for mastery; once the context of violence enables the wife to enter the fray as a combatant, the outcome is uncertain. One account of a wife's reaction to a marital rape, which we might not expect to find recognized as an offense in this period, clearly shows how a wife's subjectivity is constructed as violent, as a choice of her own life over her husband's life. In her examination recorded in A Hellish Murder (I688), Mary Aubrey (or Hobry), a French midwife, describes a history of dissension with her husband because she would not cooperate with him "in Villanies contrary to Nature." 

On the night of the murder, after beating her savagely, "he attempted the Forcing of this Examinate to the most Unnatural of Villanies, and acted such a Violence upon her Body in despite of all the Opposition that she could make, as forc'd from her a great deal of Blood, this Examinate crying out to her Landlady, who was (as she believes) out of distance of hearing her.” When she insists that she cried out, Aubrey employs the strategy of the rape victim, who had to demonstrate that she had made a "hue and cry" and thus had not consented. In presenting Aubrey's compelling testimony about this assault, A Hellish Murder not only suggests limits on a husband's rights to and power over his wife's body but also constructs a subjectivity for Mary Aubrey out of her despair, her sense of grievance, and her determination to escape. 

Aubrey finally demands of her husband, "Am I to lead this Life for ever?" only to receive more threats in response. In asking that question, Mary Aubrey is portrayed as raising a voice and imagining herself as having a life separate from and in conflict with her husband's. By depicting her reaction to abuse and her contemplation of retaliatory violence, this text constitutes Aubrey as a self-conscious, speaking subject. Later, beside her sleeping husband, she thinks "with her self," "What will become of me? What am I to do! Here am I Threatned to be Murder'd, and I have no way in the World to Deliver my self, but by Beginning with him." Aubrey's subjectivity is seen not only as the midwife's deliverance of herself but as a birth that depends on a death. 

"Immediately upon these thoughts," she stoutly undertakes the murder of her husband, strangling and dismembering him, and lugging parts of his body around in her petticoat to dispose of them. Popular accounts of petty treason usually shy away from such risky representation of a wife's conscious articulation of rights that are allied to violence by their very conception. The resulting attempts both to account for the complexities of domestic friction and to achieve some sympathy for the abused wife, while keeping authority vested in the husband, however tyrannous, can verge on the absurd. 

Goodcole describes one "young and tender" wife, who, repenting after administering poison to her "old, peevish," and abusive husband, fruitlessly pleads with him to take an antidote to preserve his life. "Nay thou Strumpet and murderesse," Goodcole reports him as saying, "I will receive no helpe at all but I am resolvd to dye and leave the world, be it for no other cause, but to have thee burnt at a stake for my death." * Although the wife is executed at Smithfield, Goodcole regards the husband, in his spiteful insistence on dying, as the agent. Sarah Elston, in her scaffold confession as recorded in A Warning for Bad Woo (1678), "protested again most seriously, that she never in her life had the least designe or thoughts of killing [her husband], onely it was an unfortunate Accident; and whether it came by a blow from her, or his violent running upon the point of the sizzars as she held them out to defend her self, she could not to this minute certainly tell."

These comic moments reveal how pamphleteers who wish to portray murderous wives as penitent and pitiful must awkwardly scramble to shield them from the imputation of intending to kill, just as they are presented as shielding themselves from blows. To characterize such women as assessing their hopeless situations and deciding to take violent action to escape them, that is, to present them as subjects, is also to remove them from sympathy and to open up disturbing implications about the marital relation of authority and submission. Writers in effect displace responsibility onto the husbands, positioning them as still in charge, even if drunken, violent, and absurdly self-destructive. In representations of domestic conflict in early modem popular culture-ballads, pamphlets, and plays, shaming rituals and jokes- the wife diminishes or usurps her husband's claims to authority as she asserts herself by committing adultery, beating or bossing her husband, or plotting to kill him.

For instance, Arden of Faversham (1592), a play about an actual case of petty treason, can be seen as an extended cuckold joke. Like such jokes, and like popular shaming rituals such as the charivari, the play holds the cuckolded husband responsible for his wife's adultery and insubordination. If the husband and wife become a joint subject at marriage, then, these popular representations seem to suggest, the wife's enlargement into volition, speech, and action necessarily implicates, diminishes, and even eliminates the husband. These popular representations push the logic of coverture to suggest an economy of marital subjectivity that leaves room for only one subject. They constitute the wife as a subject only to the extent that they qualify her husband's claims to subject status by silencing and immobilizing him and casting doubt on his authority and potency. 

The fact that popular accounts of such crimes acknowledge the role of abuse in inciting women to murder challenges assumptions we still have about women's rights within marriage and the monolithic power wives who defied the patriarchy during this period. It also complicates the notion of petty treason by introducing the possibility of tyrannous household government and by suggesting, albeit hesitantly, that there arc some justifications for rebellion. Certainly, contemporary debates about the limits on conscientious submission to civil and domestic authorities have a bearing on relations within the household and the understanding of petty treason. Writers of sermons and conduct books about marriage explicitly include the situation of the godly wife in their considerations of the limits on obedience to earthly authority; they advocate a demanding balance between submission and resistance, silence and good counsel.

In those cases of petty treason that resulted in convictions and made it into print, however, the circumstances in the household did not mitigate the wife's guilt. These women were executed as petty traitors despite their husbands' inadequacies as household governors. Although juries may actually have taken extenuating circumstances into consideration when they deliberated over cases of petty treason, these texts hold the husband responsible as well as depict the execution of the guilty wife; they recognize limits to a husband's power over his wife, yet present a wife's violent resistance as ultimately unjustifiable and destructive of the political order. Popular representations make these contradictions between husbandly authority and wifely submission visible, but they do not resolve them.”

- Frances E. Dolan, “Home-Rebels and House-Traitors: Petty Treason and the Murderous Wife.” in Dangerous Familiars: Representations of Domestic Crime in England, 1550 - 1700

can you tell me abt your wip?

yes! it’s about cracks in the fabric of spacetime and loving your friends!

anyway my answer is yes, yes I can tell you, I have things that I’m capable of saying, sure, sure

I usually like my writeblr experience to be the “I’m just gonna ramble about characters and plot points with no context and if you wanna come along for the ride feel free to jump in whenever!” type more so than the “I am presenting to you a nice neat WIP and I am very careful with my words and I am trying to spark intrigue among future readers” type

so I don’t have any nice neat posts or beautifully worded synopses or detailed character profiles (edit! I do have some of these now!)......... what I have is an all-encompassing “ATDAO” tag that I throw all of my everything into with no rhyme or reason. it’s full of things such as art, brief excerpts, long-winded rambles, and spoilers!

but for now, I will speak to you a series of words, like so:

the story is called All The Doors Are Open!

it’s YA! sci-fi-ish! fantasy-ish! comedy-ish! I’m real bad at genres! it’s something I’d describe as “our reality but a little to the left”, though it gets progressively weirder and weirder as it goes on

it’s set in South Australia, n it’s set in a world where the fabric of reality is starting to unravel at the edges and cracks in the universe called “Ports” are cropping up..... n these cracks are letting in all sorts of whacked out energy, fuckin with physics, causing weird phenomena.......... basically reality’s comin' apart slowly but surely and everyone’s just sorta like “ah geez” about it but like. what can ya do. it’s not like all your normal people problems are gonna go away just ‘cuz the world is edging towards its inevitable weird doom

so people are just kinda going about their lives against this bizarre apocalyptic backdrop and hoping they don't, like, glitch through the sidewalk on their way to the supermarket

the story is about several people, and four of these people are:

Tris, panic attack in human form, who has just been the sole witness to a freak car accident that somehow caused his older brother to vanish from this plane of existence entirely

Noa, edgy intimidating badass, definitely hiding no insecurities or trauma at all whatsoever, who has just had a weird run-in with a Port and is discovering that she can now bend the reality around her

Shara, socially anxious paranormal investigator & conspiracy enthusiast, hunting the answers to and meaning of three strange events from her past in the hopes that they will lead her to the source of the apocalypse

and Kai, nonbinary force of chaos, struggling to deal with the emotional repercussions of losing seven years of their life to a time loop and the fact that their family thinks they died

and it’s mostly just about these guys trying to deal with the weird apocalyptic garbage happening to them alongside their everyday lives, and about how all their individual odd little mysteries connect with each other and form a bigger, odder mystery

here are some things about it that I like, and that you might like, but I don’t know you, so who knows:

the story is equal parts “absolute nonsense hijinks and ridiculousness that doesn’t take itself too seriously” and “oh fuck oh ouch oh no my heart”

every single main character ends up safe and happy and in a much, much, much better place than they started

there’s several mentally ill heroes, including one with psychosis and one with a dissociative disorder, whose mental illness/es aren’t ever used as a cheap plot twist or to go “OHOHO NONE OF IT WAS EVER REAL IT WAS ALL JUST IN THEIR HEAD THE WHOLE TIME HAHA GOTCHA” because ew

it’s full of weird glitchy unreality nonsense and general atmospheric weirdness, and I get to do lots of sick kickflips with words about it

there’s one cat named Leonardo DiCatrio and another named Ms Frizzle, and some scenes where various members of the gang get to hang out with a bunch of extremely excited huskies, so that’s nice

I’m forgetting what I’ve already mentioned

and what's important to mention

I’m going to end this list

oh!

all the themes are incredibly cheesy, such as self love, friendship, the goodness of humanity, the power of kindness and connection, believing in yourself, etc........ just some real good high quality cheese

somewhere in the recesses of the ATDAO tag there are character profiles, a plot explanation and also a comic sans powerpoint presentation in which I talk about it all in more detail, but it’s all very wordy, and some of it is outdated, you can go take a look if you like, I won’t link it here because I'm lazy, it will just be a fun quest you can go on should you so choose, I can provide a map and some snacks for the journey

also please note that my rambling text posts with horrid grammar are not indicative of my writing abilities when actually Writing A Novel

ur not getting nice prim proper articulate logan today, ur getting. well. me. hello

anyway that’s all I can say 4 now, thanks for the ask, love u, goodnight

Thursday 29th April, Research Report: Lycanthropy and the hays code

Notable points * lycanthropy seems  to be synonymous with homosexuality- parallels between Teen Wolf and Buffy The Vampire Slayer's respective coming out scenes. * The Queer-ness of the character Remus Lupin from the Harry Potter books and film series. Many fans head cannon and write slash fics about Remus and Sirius' romance and relationship, reading the characters as queer. The ship, named 'Wolf Star' is quite popular and well known within the fandom. Many fans feel there is enough evidence to build this relationship on; Remus and Sirius' ghosts stood next to each other in the resurrection stone, mirroring Harry's parents,  a canonically married couple. They also bought Harry a joint present for his birthday and know the intricacies of each others personalities. Dumbledore also infamously told Sirius to 'lie low at Lupins.' But the problem here, as the article points out, is that Rowling doesn't acknowledge Lupin as queer, despite the homoerotic cues in the writings,  and instead gives him a female love interest and admits that Lupins Lycantrhopy is a metaphor for AIDS/HIV. She has further dismissed any alternative readings of the character, disappointing fans' hopes of there being a shred of representation in a queer monster who is actually queer. This sort of behaviour from authors and creators is what turns Queer-coding into the more harmful and frustrating Queer-baiting. A large majority of queer representation comes from connotations and interpretations. the clues are there and queer audiences do pick them up. However this grey area allows allows straight culture to use queerness for pleasure and profit in mass culture without admitting to it. Modern examples of this are CW's Supernatural and BBC's Sherlock. I can't personally speak for Supernatural but having watched Sherlock with the advantage of a queer eye, I can say with confidence that it is a prime example of queer-baiting. there is clear homoerotic subtext between Sherlock and John and even Sherlock and Moriarty. I Personally think it's entirely romantic as I head cannon Sherlock to be Asexual or at least on that spectrum but the point is, it is not just wishful thinking or pushing of a narrative. It's manipulation. Queer-baiting takes advantage of an already vulnerable group of people by preying on their desire for representation in the media.

In modern media werewolf's are often portrayed as having chiselled bodies and looming over each other. The 1985 Teen Wolf received a television reboot and it's fair to say it got reasonably more progressive.  It seemed interested in queering the werewolf narrative and in a sly moment of gender-bending the traditional Little Red Riding Hood narrative, protagonist Scott receives the Bite from a male werewolf while wearing a Little Red Hoodie (‘Wolf Moon’). Additionally, the show features LGBTQ characters while Scott’s human best friend Stiles visits a gay bar and makes friends with a group of drag queens in startling contrast to the gay panic of the 1985 film’s version of Stiles. By midway through the show’s second season, the slash pairing that had proved dominant in the fandom was Stiles and wannabe-Alpha Derek Hale. The two characters, who operate in the narrative as belligerent and begrudging allies, rapidly became a slash phenomenon, due, in part, to the chemistry and comic timing between actors Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O’Brien. The narrative is further subverted when Derek is raped by an adult  human woman.

The pair 'Sterek' gained so much traction that it caught the attention of MTV and the cast and crew behind the show. So much so that they released a video of Hoechlin and O'Brien cuddling on a boat, asking fans to vote for Teen Wolf for this  years Choice Summer TV Show at the Teen Choice Awards. This  was big as it acknowledged fans and slash flics and the pairing itself as a possibility and many queer voices who watched the show felt heard and validated. However this didn't last long. MTV released a video on the official Teen Wolf Facebook, this time featuring O’Brien asking fans to vote for Teen Wolf in a TV Guide Poll. O’Brien joked that if fans did not vote, then the show would kill off its sole remaining gay character and one of the few remaining non-white characters on the show, Danny. The Teen Wolf Facebook released the video with the following caption: ‘Keep #TeenWolf in first place! Heed Dylan and Linden’s advice or we might have to. #KillDanny’ (Teen Wolf). The show’s social media team then attempted to make the #KillDanny tag go viral on Facebook and twitter, but fans, understandably, were not amused, primarily using the tag for outraged tweets to MTV (Baker-Whitelaw).Such blatant disregard for fans’ concerns about queer representation on the show alienated a large number of fans, especially when coupled with Jeff Davis’ more frequently dismissive and condescending comments about the Sterek pairing where he had been enthusiastic and even encouraging of the ship. As seasons wore on without any indication that Sterek would indeed become canon, it became clear that MTV and Jeff Davis had been queer-baiting Sterek fans as a marketing technique and that the unique interplay that fans had enjoyed with Davis, which offered a new kind of truly interactive fandom had, in fact, been something of an illusion. ' serial killer Hannibal Lecter and his love interest Will Graham in Hannibal, and reanimated gay corpses Kieren, Simon, and Rick in In the Flesh. Notably, both series have received an overwhelmingly positive response from fans and critics who have applauded the series for taking their queer monsters beyond mere coding and into explicit text. The warm reception of Hannibal and In the Flesh’s handling of queer representation by fans, and the continuing frustration with Teen Wolf’s queer-baiting and the appropriative nature of Remus Lupin’s narrative in Harry Potter, belie a desire not only for better queer representation, but also for more complex re-articulations of queer monstrosity' the symbolic and narrative trappings of monsters are often used as metaphors for queerness without actually acknowledging the positive behind that queer identity or even confirming the queer identity at all. Another positive example is the miniseries Good Omens. Based on the book of the same name, written by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman. Pretty much the whole fandom believe That the two leads, Crowley and Aziraphale are in a romantic relationship. They've known each other for centuries and perhaps what was the main fuel to this ships fire was the episode 3 cold open. Even fans who have only read the book seem to support these two as a couple and what's perhaps even more amazing is Gaiman’s response on twitter. "I wrote it as a love story. They acted it as a love story. You saw it as a love story. How much more proof do you need?" and "I wouldn't exclude the ideas that they are ace, or aromantic, or trans. They are an angel and a demon, not as make humans, per the book. Occult/Ethereal beings don't have sexes, something we tried to reflect in the casting. Whatever Crowley and Aziraphale are, it's a love story." It's beautiful because not only does it confirm that they are in love but it also leaves room for interpretations of what kind of relationship they have together.

https://dialogues.rutgers.edu/images/Journals_PDF/2017-18-dialogues-web_e6db3.pdf#page=164

In the year 1922, when cinema was gaining traction and popularity, The Motion Picture Producers and Distributors Association (MPPDA) hired a devout Presbyterian, Will H. Hays as its head. Eight years later, in 1930, the MPPDA ratified the Motion Picture Production Code. Also known as the Hays Code, these guidelines were set up as “a list of rules that studios could follow to avoid the censors’ wrath” one specific line read “sexual perversion or any inference to it is forbidden” This era in censorship set the stage for a culture in which the stereotypical behaviour of homosexuals, or any behaviour deviating from the traditional gender roles, is seen as dangerous, evil, and even fatal. By representing coded homosexual characters as depressed, perverse, and succumbing to punishing ends, it shifted social subconscious beliefs of LGBT individuals in real life to those represented on screen. Media often teaches us how to feel about others and ourselves – e.g., it promotes specific body types and clothing styles. In the same way, by promoting gendered behaviour and banning homosexuality, it spread a message that homosexuality was not fit to be viewed openly. Although themes of homosexuality were banned they were definitely alluded to and that continues today.

~5 months later~

Ok I lied. I’m not going to talk about my Japan trip in this post. Instead I’m going to provide an update on what’s been going on in my life for the past 5 months since my last post. Lol. 

Okaaaay. So we ended up having a second wave. Hahah..aha..hah. A very intense and overwhelming one, at that. There was a day I believe when the number of new covid cases reached almost 800? It happened around mid this year. I remember it being a really devastating and disappointing period of everyone’s lives. It would seem like the number of new cases would only get worse everyday. I would be so put off from watching the news or reading about anything related to covid ‘cause it would only make me depressed. 

Today is a notable day to write this post ‘cause today’s the first day, since this second wave started, that VIC reached 0 new cases and 0 new deaths. 4 stages of lockdown (plus an extension) later, we're finally here! Everyone up until this day had been feeling it - despair, restlessness, anger, hopelessness - at this lockdown that seemed would never end. But today we got the news that VIC will be re-opening again (1st stage) this Wednesday (it’s a Monday today), then even more on Nov 8. The glimmer of hope we’ve been waiting for, for literally months now. 

Now for the non-covid related updates. Lol. 

It’s tempting sometimes to overgeneralise 2020 as “the year wasted”. “Nothing happened this year” (besides covid of course). But there have been a few new things I’ve experienced this year which I think would be worth noting. And a few thoughts I’ve been having lately that I really need to deposit somewhere before I forget them. 

Ever since I became single early this year, I’ve received some interesting dm’s via Instagram. One of the first ones was from this guy from Canada, who sent me one of my posts via my DM then proceeded to comment “cute haha *monkey covering it’s mouth emoji*”. I got this message while I was showering, at like 3am, so it was pretty unexpected. This was the beginning of a very strange friendship (?) thing. Long story short, and around a month later, I found out him to be a very strange guy. He was cute, seemed like a catch at first. BUT he gave off major player vibes and also, he was basically 4-5 years younger than me, and didn’t live up to the maturity he claimed to have (emotional maturity mainly). He would make it seem like he was after a relationship with me sometime in the future but also kept implying that he wasn’t necessarily after a relationship right now, and just wanted to “go with the flow”. He was always complimenting me, always wanted to FaceTime everyday, and would sweet talk me with things that were nice to hear. But I couldn’t shake off the feeling that he was bad news and wasn’t really serious about any of this (I even kept telling him I was thinking this). I should mention he was asking for a selfie and wanted to FaceTime from the very first conversation we had (after only exchanging a few messages). We didn’t even know each other yet?? Lmao. After a few weeks of talking to him I eventually caught him in a lie, and yeah. That was one of the biggest red flags. I had a weird feeling about him from the get go, but I guess I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt (and also what threw me off a lot is that he told me that he told his Mum about me - but I’ll never know if that was just a lie too). He also told me that he was going to visit here from Canada in August (it’s October now) and kept going on about how he wanted to spend a whole week out of the two weeks he was going to be here, with me, and how I’m so chill and fun to talk to that we would have so much fun spending time together. Lmaooo. He told me he’s dated a lot of older girls (I’m not sure if this is a fetish of his), but every time I asked him how many exes he’s had, it would always be a different number (which is hella sus ‘cause it seemed like he was lying then). He tried to do some weird sexual stuff as well which I never entertained and pretty much shut him down straight away whenever he tried. Not sure if he was just joking, but it was disturbing nonetheless. I won’t go into detail ‘cause this isn’t the place for it. It eventually got to a point where I was decided on the fact that I couldn’t take this guy seriously and didn’t want to waste both our time so I started replying less/later to his messages, basically friend-zoned him by calling him “man” and “dude”, and teased him about other girls saying that he had potential with them. I think he eventually got the hint ‘cause one day he just stopped texting me “good morning” everyday. Lol. But anyway, yeah that was more or less the main stuff about guy #1. 

Guy #2 was from London and it started with one of my girl friends messaging me and asking me if I was talking to someone at the moment. I said I wasn’t and she proceeded to tell me that one of her boyfriend’s friends found me really pretty and wanted to follow me on Instagram. She then sent me a few photos of him (screenshots from his IG account), asking if I would be interested (I felt like I was on a dating site for a moment lmao). While flattering, I remember thinking this was so bizarre. To be honest with you though the guy wasn’t my type (looks-wise). My friend said he was “a real sweetheart”. Even though he wasn’t my type, I gave it a chance and told her that I don’t mind him following me. We both agreed that the guy and I had nothing to lose, and if anything we’d just become international friends. Lol. So soon enough the guy follows me on IG and then starts a convo via DM. He introduces himself, seemed like a nice/decent guy. Very articulate, and well versed. He would comment on my stories here and there and try to get a conversation going, try to get to know me better and try to share things about himself. I think I recall him saying he thought I lived in Japan ‘cause I had a lot of posts from Japan. Lmao. It would get to the point though where he would write massive paragraphs, but the energy wasn’t called for, and didn’t feel mutual. I think I found it a bit overwhelming and felt like he wanted to take every opportunity to write an essay about his views on everything. There was a particular time I did an IG story post where I was venting about something, and he replied to it with like two long paragraphs worth of his thoughts, and then said he would be there for me even though we didn’t really know each other that well yet etc. Which was really sweet - yes. But also felt too early, premature. It almost felt like he was trying to forge an emotional connection too early on in a relationship which wasn’t even at the friends stage yet. We’d only been talking for like 2 weeks or so. I couldn’t help it, but I think my neutral and short replies gave off a hint, and he commented less and less on my stories. Till eventually he stopped altogether. Lol. Also I think I may have accidentally called him “man”....on purpose. I feel like a horrible person. There was a point early on though that I looked through his IG profile and tried to find things about him that I liked (I basically tried to convince myself that maybe the guy wasn't so bad). But I think that wasn’t successful. And yeah, it was hard to hide that fact for long I think. 

Guy #3 is this random guy that just followed me out of no where and liked a bunch of my photos on IG all at once. He then started commenting on my stories quite a lot. He would leave brief comical comments, and tried to get me to play animal crossing with him. Lol. He tried to start a convo one time but I didn’t reply to it for a few hours, and then found that he deleted it. Lol?? He would then like a few more of my IG pics. He was a bit strange. I wasn’t quite sure if he was trying to show that he was interested, or if he was just bored and wanted more friends. But yeah he doesn’t comment on my stories much anymore.  Now that I’ve gotten those out of the way, just thought I’d go on about my recent thoughts. So lately I’ve been feeling really stuck. I have a quarter-life crisis pretty much every day. I feel like I’ve plateaued, and I’m not really growing much right now. I feel like I need new experiences, new company. Most of the ones I have at the moment aren’t serving me well or helping me become a better person, if I’m honest. And I’m not happy. The company I have right now aren’t encouraging me to level up, or helping me expand my thoughts and horizons. I’ve noticed that a lot of the friends I was close to pre-covid have changed a lot, and so have I, so we’re not really offering much to each other. I’ve become so low energy lately that I find myself trying to avoid or escape dealing with people or situations that I feel aren’t worth my energy. Which I want to start doing more of from now on. I want to be more selective of the people I chose to surround myself with. I also want to find my community or a new community which I can be part of and grow from. Not sure how or where I will find that, but it’s something I’m keen on delving into more as time goes by. I want to be more myself, I want to change up my look, my fashion. I want to expand my knowledge, expand my vocabulary, expand the diversity of ways I talk/present myself or respond/reply to situations. I want to feel like I have something to offer - not only to my future partner, but to the friends I make in this lifetime. I feel like I’m too basic and uninteresting. I feel like I’m also too careful, too slow, too afraid to make mistakes. Too afraid to take risks. I want to stop “complaining about things, but doing nothing about them”. I want to be confident in myself, no matter what I feel that I am. If that makes sense. I want to speak more clearly, slower. I want to be able to speak Filipino fluently. I want to find the career that I love and work in it. I want to work with people that I can genuinely be friends with, not just colleagues or “fake friends”. I want to not care about what people will think about me, and just do me (especially on IG). I want to be unapologetically myself. But before that, I want that self to be the kind of self I aspire to be. Can you want to be different, but also want to just be yourself at the same time? Can someone confirm this? 

currently reading

Patricia Highsmith stories

I returned the book I was reading these stories from to the library and will probably seek more out online, because I love Highsmith’s writing and narrative sensibility. No one is sympathetic in a Highsmith story, and if they aren’t personally culpable, then they’re pathetic and pitiful. One hilarious story is about a day in the life of two pigeons who roost together but hate each other. Highsmith has an extremely grim view of people, which I don’t share, but she also has a ‘wicked’ sense of humor, which I think is an overused description for someone’s sense of humor, unless it’s applied to Highsmith, or maybe Otessa Moshfegh, whose book of stories Homesick for Another World I have checked out from the library, but have not yet started.

Alice Knott, Blake Butler

~1/3 of the way into this novel and I’m really enjoying it as a big fuck you to plot-obsessed fiction. Which is to say I find myself when reading it often wondering okay but what’s the story? even though by Butler’s standards the story is fairly straightforward. Seems like it might be a good gateway drug to ease people into Butler’s more ‘difficult’ work. I’ve also been sort of idly scrolling Butler’s now defunct blog for guidance on ‘how’ to blog. 

Kabbalah for Beginners, Rav Michael Laitman

As a goy I have very little context and absolutely no Hebrew knowledge to help me understand Kabbalah, which I’m interested in for myriad reasons, most presently for Kabbalah’s and mysticism’s relationship to language and authority. Here’s Gershom Scholem on Moses and the Ten Commandments, from On the Kabbalah and Its Symbolism

This conception of Moses as interpreter of the divine voice for the people was developed much more radically by Maimonides, whose ideas Rabbi Mendel of Rymanov carried to their ultimate conclusion. In Rabbi Mendel's view not even the first two Commandments were revealed directly to the whole people of Israel. All that Israel heard was the aleph with which in the Hebrew text the first Commandment begins, the aleph of the word anokhi, 'I.' This strikes me as a highly remarkable statement, providing much food for thought. For in Hebrew the consonant aleph represents nothing more than the position taken by the larynx when a word begins with a vowel. Thus the aleph may be said to denote the source of all articulate sound, and indeed the Kabbalists always regarded it as the spiritual root of all other letters, encompassing in its essence the whole alphabet and hence all other elements of human discourse. To hear the aleph is to hear next to nothing; it is the preparation for all audible language, but in itself conveys no determinate, specific meaning. Thus, with his daring statement that the actual revelation to Israel consisted only of the aleph, Rabbi Mendel transformed the revelation on Mount Sinai into a mystical revelation, pregnant with infinite meaning, but without specific meaning. In order to become a foundation of religious authority, it had to be translated into human language, and that is what Moses did. In this light every statement on which authority is grounded would become a human interpretation, however valid and exalted, of something that transcends it.

Kabbalah for Beginners isn’t about the linguistic aspects of Kabbalah at all, but having read it I better understand what the Tree of Life and the sephirot are, though only marginally.

Akira, Katsuhiro Otomo

Akira is probably the most fun I’ve had reading comics, which I don’t usually do, but I was interested in manga artwork as drawing inspiration. I read the first volume and have the second volume here, but I think I’ll come back to it later when I want to have ‘fun’ reading something.

Shiver, Junji Ito

This is the first manga I read where the book orientation is the opposite of Western books, reading right to left. The stories themselves are a little clunky sometimes, some of which is probably due to translation, but Ito’s artwork is chilling and beautiful and hypnotic. I half intend to write more about Ito when I read more of his work, but right now I don’t feel like I have enough to say about these.

Industrial Society and Its Future, Ted Kaczynski

It is true that “anyone who has a little money can have something printed, or can distribute it on the Internet or in some such way, but what he has to say will be swamped by the vast volume of material put out by the media, hence it will have no practical effect. To make an impression on society with words is therefore almost impossible for most individuals and small groups.” 

But unlike Kaczynski, I refuse to resort to murder in growing my audience.

Remnants, Part I

They did Ahkmenrah so dirty in the NATM movies, so I’m indulging. I’m not sure if this piece is going to work as a female reader-insert, but I am going to try that first. If you think it would be better with an OFC, let me know.

  Summary: You are in the midst of formulating your dissertation, but you’ve hit a wall. Your doting aunt, Rebecca, has a solution that brings you face to face with Ahkmenrah, Fourth King of the Fourth King. As the connection between you and Ahkmenrah grows, and as the secrets of his ancient tablet unlock, the once-king will find himself faced with a difficult choice.

   Warnings: None for now, but you can bet there will be smut; also, Ahk is a solid 20 years of age to be certain to avoid any squick factor. Also, if you’d like to be tagged, let me know : )

Part I

On the night you first officially met, you weren’t sure whether it was his beauty or his sadness that overwhelmed you. Ahkmenrah was sitting in his exhibit alone, gazing at the hieroglyphs that adorned the walls. His mouth was set in a serious line, which only served to accentuate his sharp jawline. His eyes, a polychromatic swirl of blue and green, were trained on the stories, his stories. The air was filled with such a level of concentration that it felt wrong to disturb this once-king.

   Larry whispered, “About a year ago, we figured out that he wasn’t an evil, cursed thing. It is his tablet, after all, that brings everything to life.”

   “He’s not wax or stone, though, so, he reanimates?” you ask hesitantly, even though you already know the answer. It’s just that you can hardly believe in its morbidity—cheating death always has a price.

   “Every night.”

   Your mind whirled. Every night, this former king came to life, and every morning, he returned to the nothingness of death. A price—there’s always a price.

   “Does he remember things, like the new things that happen at night? Or is he stuck living only with the memories of his past?”

   Larry chuckled, “Do you want to ask him all these things yourself?”

You nod your head. Of all the exhibits Larry had introduced you to over the last month, he saved Ahkmenrah for last because he knew that the ancient pharaoh was the reason you became an anthropologist. Not, Ahkmenrah in particular, but the culture of ancient Egypt. Your grandmother used to tell you stories about the pyramids and first introduced you to the riches of this ancient, civilized land. Their mythology fascinated you, from childhood until now, and it was the very last step of your doctoral pursuit. Your dissertation was about the parallels between the monotheistic cult of Akhenaten and the foundational principles of early Christianity. Although Ahkmenrah was a pharaoh of the Middle Kingdom, you were certain that the path for monotheism had been laid as the pharaohs navigated the world, acquiring more wealth and power. Science advanced. The miracles of the gods were explained. And one god, across cultures, emerged.

   And then you got stuck. You needed a lead and Rebecca, Larry’s girlfriend and your aunt, cajoled Larry into helping. She knew you would make any sacrifice to prove your research and keeping the secret of the museum seemed like a small price to you. So, Larry tested your character by introducing you to a new exhibit each night, carefully measuring your reaction, and then making sure nothing wound up in the tabloids the following day.

   While it was shocking, you had already spent so much time living within the past, it almost felt like coming home. The knowledge each reanimation possessed gave you hope that Ahkmenrah could provide you with the information that would cement your doctoral candidacy.

   Larry gently took your elbow and pushed you forward. Your slight stumble echoed into Ahkmenrah’s chamber, and he slowly turned toward the noise, his statues shifting, awaiting the young king’s word.

   “Son of Ra,” you spoke as you lowered your head in a bow until you closed the distance between the two of you, then you dropped to your knees, extended your arms in a full bow, and touched your lips to the stone floor at his feet.

   You didn’t move, even as you heard Larry chuckle from behind you.

   “Larry, guardian of Brooklyn, leave us,” Ahkmenrah spoke in a commanding tone that immediately silenced Larry and you listened as his footsteps shuffled quickly away.

   “Rise.”

   You rescinded your arms but rose only into a kneel, keeping your head bowed.

   Ahkmenrah sighed, an utterly sad, small noise of nostalgia.

   “You are familiar with the customs of my people, and you greatly honor me; however, you and I both know there is no longer a need for such a display of reverence. My time has long, long passed.”

   The despondency in his words called to you. You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, his large eyes trained on your face, searching it as you looked at one another.

   Ahkmenrah offered you his hand, and you hesitated in a comical moment of twitching forward to accept it, but holding back, the customs of the ancients reverberating through your mind.

   Ahkmenrah chuckled, and you huffed out a laugh, too. Your 21st century self won out, and also your insatiable curiosity to know if he felt more like skin or a tanned hide--you know, how a several thousand years old mummified corpse might feel.

   As your hands connected, you immediately knew it was not the latter; his hand was smooth and warm, your fingers glided across his palm to grasp his wrist as he grasped yours and pulled you up from your position on the floor. Neither of you let go immediately, until a slight blush colored both of your cheeks. You dropped his hand and apologized, but he cut you off.

   “I’ve had so few visitors,” Ahkmenrah began. “It’s just nice to remember what a person’s touch is like. I apologize for . . . I believe the correct term might be . . . lingering?”

   You smiled at his furrowed brow and at his struggle to articulate himself. English, after all, wasn’t exactly his first language.

   “You speak beautifully, your majesty.”

   “Thank you; I was on display at Cambridge for a number of years, but please, call me Ahkmenrah,” he stated, tilting his head just slightly as it occurred to him he didn’t know your name. “And what shall I call you?”

   “Y/N.”

   He smiled and said, “A lovely name.”

   You took a deep breath, gradually becoming more relaxed in his presence. Nothing prepared you for your meeting with this young man, well, sort of young man. As Larry tested you by moving through exhibit after exhibit, you thought you would be able to handle the one thing you were really here for. Most of the exhibits, while they did add a depth of feeling, were like talking to living, very interactive history books.

   Except now, face to face, this creature in front of you was clearly no text book. He radiated warmth and power; his eyes were so alive it made you feel like you were the one who was a reanimated corpse. Never had you seen such depth in a person’s gaze; it was unnerving, but also it was like a key, turning a lock to something deep inside of you that you didn’t know existed.

   It also didn’t hurt that he was beautiful. Because of his age at his death, he still possessed a softness around his features that made you want to define him as cute, but his presence elevated him to handsome. A flicker of jealousy coursed through you at the thought of him choosing a queen from a line of many, many suitors. And then there would be the matter of his secondary queens, and you were sure he would have no shortage of choices there, either.  

   You shook your head, wondering why in the fuck your mind chose to venture down that path. You shouldn’t be thinking about this barely-adult king and his sex life; it’s not like you were going to go that far in your research . . . he may not even have functioning parts, hell, he may not even have any of his organs—

   “I believe the expression is, ‘Penny for your thoughts?’” Ahkmenrah asks, startling a blush out of you.

   You choke out an awkward laugh, run your hands through your hair and take a deep breath.

   “This is just so surreal. I’m not sure how much you know about me or my work, but I guess I should just start at the beginning. I guess the easiest way to explain would be to use a reference. So, there’s a fun little game that people sometimes play and during it, you divulge who you would invite to a dinner party if you could have your choice of any person, living or dead.”

   Ahkmenrah watched you intently, listening.

   “While Akhenaten was always first on my list—18th dynasty, awhile after you, I always wanted to meet a ruler from the Middle Kingdom, one of the most glorious periods of rule in Egypt. And, well, here you are. It’s like, almost better than Cleopatra.”

   Ahkmenrah chuckled, “I can assure you that the tales of my country will be far better than what her’s would be. From what I’ve heard, she brought much scandal because of her dalliances with foreigners,” he said, his face conveying his clear disapproval.  

   “She brought the end of your Egypt.”

   “Yes. It’s, what was the word you used? Surreal! It’s quite surreal to know the fate of one’s kingdom. I often think about what I might’ve done differently had I known what I know now.”

   “They do say hindsight is 20/20.”

   “As in, the past always looks clearer from the present?” Ahkmenrah questioned.

   “Exactly.”

   You had hoped he would be smart, and in your small exchange, it became clear that he was. While his intelligence excited you, it was the genuineness of his smile that took your breath away. For a moment, you were reminded of Nick Carraway’s description of Jay Gatsby’s smile. And just like Nick, you were immediately drawn into it, drowning with a need to just know the bearer of that warmth with a greater intimacy.

   “You’re doing it again,” Ahkmenrah said through his smile, startling you out of your thoughts.

   You shook your head, embarrassed yet again.

   “I was thinking about something I read in a book once.”

   Ahkmenrah spoke with excitement, “Larry told me you preferred books to people because you didn’t have many friends in your youth. I’d like to show you something.”

   “I’d like to show Larry something right about now,” you mumbled as you followed the swishing of Ahkmenrah’s golden cape. He disappeared into a smaller nook between the walls of his exhibit and returned with a stack of ancient paper.

   “The tablet seems to also restore anything that is organic,” Ahkmenrah explained, showing you the pieces of papyrus that were covered in hieroglyphs. “This is the history of my family as told through our own voices . . . I think you would call it a diary?”

   You must have looked like an idiot, your mouth agape, your eyes darting between the paper in Ahkmenrah’s hands and his dancing eyes.    

   You started to speak, stopped, stuttered, and started again.

   “This is a first-hand account of the life of ancient Egyptian royals?”

   “Well, not exactly. My father was very thorough in his tracking of the members of our lineage and decided to include everyone’s stories—cousins of cousins, people who worked the fields or the rivers. I believe you will find there is much to learn from these pages.”

   Your voice cracked a little as you thanked Ahkmenrah for this honor, but before he held the pages out to you his face turned serious.

   “I’m sorry, Y/N, but you will only be able to read them while at the museum. Once dawn comes, they turn to dust, and if too much is scattered, I fear they will no longer reform.”

   “Of course! I’ll only read them right here.”

   “So, this means that you will be returning?”

   “Yes! My god, Ahkmenrah. You have no idea what this means to me.”

   Ahkmenrah smiled, the sadness leaving his eyes entirely for the first time that evening as he watched you carefully examine the pages of his ancient life.

@portiaphan asked for / actually friends au  mentioned / @romroses 

the apartment of jack hawthorne, oxfordshire, england / before

the sound of his phone vibrating against the nightstand rouses bellamy from sleep. jack makes a soft sound that might be an acknowledgement that something is happening, but might also be nothing more than an exhale of breath, and his hand tightens where it’s gently curled around the skin of bellamy’s hip, before it relaxes again. he smiles, and for a moment he is keen to ignore the instance of the intrusion--he closes his eyes again and focuses on the warmth of the contact, of the body pressed up against his spine, and for a moment he is lost to the memory of the night before.

i’ll be the first to admit that it’s cliche, jack had said, his lips and teeth stained by the wine. but i think you’re the most real and present person that i have ever met. bellamy had rolled his eyes and declared that such phrasing was cliche, and that someone with the level of education that his boyfriend possessed was capable of doing so much better--and then jack had smiled, in that way he always did. open and inviting, and yet somehow teasing--as if between his lips was the answer to every question bellamy could ever think to ask, if only he could conjure the correct phrasing. he had smiled and pressed his lips to bellamy’s jaw, followed the curve of the bone all the way to his lips. no, he had said. i think terribly real is the best way i could think to describe you. warm to the touch in a way that no one else is, at home inside of the cathedral of yourself. the sun in constant orbit, perhaps.

he feels the corner of his lips pulling up in a lazy smile, and he has a half formed idea that involves rolling over and seeing what else he can conjure out of the mouth of the poet, when the sound of the phone going off again begins to register. he huffs out an annoyed breath, and brings the screen close to his face, in an effort to assist his still heavy with sleep eyes.

three texts from marcelo, ten from roman, a missed call from odessa, one from paola and henry a piece, and two missed calls from pandora.

he drags a hand over his face and exhales slowly, before pressing a kiss between jack’s eyes and somehow managing to bring himself to his feet, and subsequently the kitchen. the sun, or at least, what passes for sun in england, is just beginning to rise as he fills the kettle with water and carefully places it on the stove, and he comes to the conclusion that it is far too early, relative to the amount of wine he consumed the night before.

he leans against the kitchen counter and presses pandora’s name on the screen. it's best to begin the process of healing whatever new wound verona has chosen to deal out with a modicum of truth--before he makes his way to whatever fantastic recollection his two best friends will inevitably share between them.

“bellamy,” she answers, and her voice is rough around the edges--tired in a way she doesn’t normally allow others to glimpse. “have you talked to anyone else, yet?”

“no,” he immediately starts to feel the familiar mixture of emotion in the pit of his stomach--something like survivor’s guilt, mixed with sadness and something that might be residual anger at the life they were all thrown into, at the city that brought them into adulthood exhausted, sharp edged in an effort to draw attention away from each tender bruise. “you were the first call i made--is everything all right?”

she is silent for a long moment, during which bellamy’s mind begins the process of coming to terms with about a dozen horrible possible scenarios. finally he hears the sound of a long exhale of breath, as if his friend is attempting to steel herself for something. for as long as he’s known her, pandora phan has been afraid of nothing--what could she possibly have to tell him that would require so much courage?

“are you sitting down?” she asks, and bellamy groans.

“just tell me--if something happened--” he huffs out a breath and worries his bottom lip between his teeth. “i’ll come home, i’ll help in any way i can--just tell me, so that we can get the hard part out of the way.”

she pauses again, before she speaks. “i wanted you to hear it from me, first. roman and i announced our engagement last night. or well--damiano, and my family, announced it to roman and i. bellamy--” there’s an emotion in her voice that he can’t quite place, that he hasn’t heard from her before--he’s not sure, he’s too busy trying to decipher the meaning of the sudden roaring in his own chest. “bellamy, you have to know that we had nothing to do with it. we can’t just say no to these things.”

i’m sorry, he wants to say. i love you dearly, but i can’t really process this information right now. for some reason, it feels like the floor, perhaps the earth itself, has suddenly given way underneath my feet. can i call you back?

i’m sorry, he wants to say. i love you dearly, but i can’t. not when it's him. you understand, right? no? i don’t really either. does it feel like the miles of distance between us has suddenly compounded in the center of your chest, as well?

i’m sorry, he wants to say, for reasons he can’t quite articulate.

instead, he chuckles, and he’s certain that the sound is the furthest thing from genuine. “panda--i’m happy for you, really. i’m glad that it's you.”

he notices then that his fingers are gripped tightly on the edge of the counter, that the tea kettle has been hissing steam and making noise for long enough to draw jack out of the bedroom, wearing a pair of bellamy’s pajama bottoms, his bleach blonde hair sticking up in odd angles that on any other morning, bellamy would gladly take the time to smooth out with a gentle hand.

“damiano is throwing a party, about a month from now.” pandora says, though bellamy has trouble processing the words--the sound of her voice suddenly seems at odds with the life that bellamy has constructed for himself here. his life that’s filled with books, the sound of rain falling gently against a pane of glass, laughter followed by the honeyed words of a poet--verona seems like it should be on an entirely different celestial body from that life, not on the other end of a red string, pulling on his wrist. “we’d both like you to be there, if you can make it. bring your english boy with you--i know everyone would love to meet him. i’d love to meet him.”

he can hear her smile on the other end--he can almost see it too. determined, all teeth, only sad around the edges if you know to look for it. “of course i’ll be there--you’re two of my best friends. i wouldn’t miss it.” he smiles in return, and hopes she can hear it in the same way, hopes maybe she’ll imagine it happier, than it is in actuality.

“it will be good to see you. take care of yourself until then, bellamy.”

“you too, panda.”

he sets his phone down on the countertop, before accepting the mug of tea that jack presses into his hands. warm, but not quite real, at this particular moment in time. “what was that about?” his boyfriend asks, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

he hesitates--taps his fingers against the mug. it's emblazoned with the logo of a play they’d seen together on the west end a week ago--it's been bellamy’s favorite, ever since. he sets it down carefully next to his phone, and shrugs one shoulder. “two of my friends from back home just got engaged. i’m thinking about flying out for the party.”

jack smiles warmly, gently rests a hand on bellamy’s shoulder, before it moves up his neck, cards through the short hair at the base. “that will be the first time you’ve been home in a while, won’t it? i can come with you, if you’d like.”

bellamy shakes his head. “i’ll be fine. i don’t plan on staying.”

the home of damiano montague, verona, italy / before

damiano montague towers over his guests, an image that is almost comically opposed to the glimmering crystal of the champagne flute in his hand. its clear to everyone invited that he is proud of his son, of the woman they’ll welcome into their family sooner rather than later, and it's clear to everyone invited that the young couple are a good match for one another--surely the montague empire will only flourish, once the uncrowned king and queen of verona ascend to their rightful thrones, once the mind of pandora phan is united in matrimony and purpose with the charm and energy of roman montague. it hardly needs to be said, and yet damiano still smiles, taps his knife against his glass, and declares that he would like to propose a toast.

bellamy takes the opportunity to wrap his jacket around odessa’s shoulders, and make a half hearted excuse about needing some air.

he steps out into the massive expanse of the montague garden, which has been strung up with an innumerable amount of fairy lights for the occasion. the night air is cool, as opposed to the oppressive heat of people pressed together inside, and the setting is almost beautiful--but he can’t un-know what’s happening inside, behind the door he now has his back to. he can’t un-know how he feels about it, either.

once, he had known the exact number of steps it took to gain enough momentum to push himself over the gate nearest to roman’s room. once, he had known the exact number of steps it took to get from the other side of that gate to the trellis that just to happened to climb just underneath his best friend’s bedroom window. it had seemed vital then, to know such things--now, as he wanders through the foliage, yet again trying to stay hidden away from view, it feels half remembered, unimportant.

why would he choose the boy who had been so desperate to be close to him that he had memorized every detail of the process, to the point of it being damn near muscle memory?

he throws back what remains of his champagne, startles at a hand on his shoulder.

pandora smiles, presses a kiss to his cheek. she’s holding both of her shoes, and wearing a black zip up hoodie over her dress. “i--wasn’t feeling well.” he tries to say, in way of explanation. “didn’t realize how much time had passed.”

“it’s all right.” she says, in a tone of voice that is kinder than it has any right to be, all things considered. “i can’t imagine how overwhelming it must be, to suddenly be back in the belly of the beast.” she leans her head on his shoulder. “i’m glad you came, bellamy.”

he exhales, a shaky release of breath that suddenly feels trapped and hard to draw. “of course--it’s not every day that two of your best friends get engaged, after all. what kind of person would i be if i missed this?”

she shakes her head, wraps her arms around his middle. “one with self preservation instincts, bell.” he hugs her in return, presses a kiss to the top of her head. her voice is quiet, meant for only bellamy to hear, in comparison to her usual concise and cutting manner of speaking. “i’m so sorry. i see how you look at him. i know how he talks about you. if he had a choice--”

her voice trails off, and bellamy bites down hard on his bottom lip, until he can taste copper on his tongue.

“i should be the one apologizing to you.” he murmurs, after an indeterminate amount of time has passed. maybe an eternity, maybe only a few minutes. “i wish i could stop--but i think--” he chuckles, though it’s a hoarse sound, like sandpaper rubbing against brick. “i think i’ve felt this way longer than i’ve known that i have.”

he inhales and exhales slowly, rubs a hand gently over her shoulder. “i’m going back to england tomorrow, you won’t have to worry about me.”

she pulls away, in an effort to meet his gaze properly. “don’t be an idiot, bellamy santo-domingo.” she shoves at him playfully, before she rests both of her hands on his chest. “i am always going to worry about you. but you should know, that until--i don’t know, whatever happens--i won’t hurt him.”

she hugs him again, and he rests his chin on top of her head. “just--don’t stay away too long, okay? he misses you more than you know.”

she laughs, and lets out a long and dramatic exhale of breath. “if we don’t get back in there, people are going to get suspicious of the wrong thing.”

her offers her his arm, and together, they head back in the direction of the house.

TOP 10 CRAZY GOOGLE PATENTS THAT WILL SHAPE FUTURE

The universe of Mobiles, Computers and the Internet is developing at an insane rate which is probably going to just increment later on. The name that tops in the rundown of innovation engineers and analysts is undoubted of GOOGLE’S.

Today I will be offering to you my rundown of top 10 odd and fascinating google licenses which may before long lead to the making of interesting items and administrations.

1) Smart Sensor for advertisements

Our first pick is a patent about an extra sensor which could before long be available in cell phones. As we as a whole know google’s principle business income is produced through advertisements appeared on query items and different other related stages. To build it’s benefits and pertinence in promotions conveyance, Google has built up an exceptional sensor which can recognize ecological conditions like temperature, mugginess, air-creation, light or sound almost a device.This could imply that in the event that the sensor distinguishes sound of downpour, at that point ad for umbrellas could be served. Such conditions at that point could be connected with watchwords that promoters choose to utilize and pay for.

2) Floating Data Center:

The following patent on our rundown is tied in with gliding server farms. With the expansion in broad daylight utilization of the web, presently with a large number of individuals getting to the worldwide web just as transmission capacity requested by every one of the clients, numerous data suppliers have begun utilizing server farms to offer their types of assistance. A server farm is an office that contains hundreds or even a great many arranged PCs and related parts mounted on countless racks. Such units remain online all through the clock, preparing and putting away a gigantic measure of gathered information to offer different types of assistance to the client when required. For instance, web index results. Along these lines, a standard server farm requires as much power as a modest community to work henceforth, is costly to keep up. In February of 2007, google recorded a patent for a framework that includes various figuring units mounted on a stage that can drift oversea. Here the power required by the office is produced by changing over the wave vitality of water into electrical vitality. The cooling system likewise depends on and utilizes the ocean water to chill off registering units.

3) Projection Keyboard:

You may have seen pictures of comparative gadgets before all through the web where you can extend either console or mouse or even whole showcase on any appropriate surface and give contribution to the gadget. Prior to the dispatch of Google Glass, it was estimated that the gadget would have this component as an extra. Presently in the wake of feeling the requirement for better information ability, google may before long bring a gadget or remember it as an element for the following adaptation of Glass utilizing which you can extend a console on your arms, wrist, or on any surface and type.

The Keystrokes are distinguished by taking two unique photos of the console. While the primary picture (say An) is taken an I.R (Infrared) shaft is extended on the console and killed while taking the subsequent picture (say B). At that point Image B is deducted from Image A to eliminate clamor and identify a contrast between pictures. The area where the thing that matters is found is related with the keystroke. The area recognized is contrasted and the console design put away in memory to decide the key squeezed.

4) Tattoo Microphone:

The following patent in our rundown is about an electronic skin tattoo that you can get yourself on your throat. This tattoo would be a totally conductive circuit with an inserted mic with which you can give most clear and most exact sound contribution to any close by gadget.

It can likewise be intended to shine each time you talk or articulate a word. It is being said that by consolidating this tattoo-circuit innovation with not many extra sensors, it can work as a genuine untruth indicator.

5) The Heart Hand Gesture for Input :

In July of 2011, google documented a patent that empowered google glass clients to take pictures of either items or spots they enjoyed with Glass by simply making a hand heart before the article. Hand heart is a famous hand signal framing a region limited by the two hands looking like a representative heart. Google glass than would naturally perceive the article/individual/place, snap a photo and offer it on informal communities as an “enjoyed” picture too file it.

6) Pay per Gaze:

Nowadays at whatever point you peruse through the web, odds are high that you may experience a great deal of promotions of various types and nature. On an ordinary site page, there might be various advertisements present. There can be one advertisement on top, one close to the last, one on the correct side, or perhaps left. Similarly on youtube where notwithstanding standards, video promotions are additionally present (both skippable and non Skippable). Some of the time we wind up focusing on such advertisements and disregard the remainder of the time. As per the following patent, google has an exceptional sensor built up that can follow eyes of a site page guest and screen their outward appearances to decide if a client saw a notice, on the off chance that truly, at that point how much consideration they paid to that specific ad or how engaging they discovered it to be.

This Special sensor can be implanted either in web cameras present in PCs, front cameras in mobiles, or in google glass. Google intends to include pay per look as an extra installment model for promoters alongside PPC, ROAS, and other existing models.

7) Street see strolling stick:

The following patent by google is for a mobile stick that has a camera on head of it which can catch 360-degree photographs each time the stick hits the ground. Google built up this venture to have the option to catch the road perspective on territories and zones, for example, climbing trails that are a long ways past the span of Google’s road see van. Prior, road see for vehicle free zones was caught with the assistance of tricycles or monster backpacks.Forex. This is the manner by which to google caught Grand Canyon. Contrasted with that, a mobile stick would be unquestionably lighter.

8) Comic Strip for Updates:

Till now we’ve been sharing our reports via online media by making posts that can be in type of text, picture, or recordings. As per the following patent for which google recorded in February 2010, soon enough we might post a comic book-like strip which can portray a little genuine discussion/circumstance.

The strip would be shown/installed on the interpersonal organization without setting off to a different site to see the strip. You can choose a topic for your strip. From that point forward, you can give your strip a title and make a comic character to speak to yourself with the assistance of a rearranged UI. There must be at any rate two characters in the strip occupied with a discussion.

9) Virtual partner for informal organization:

By this, sooner rather than later, you will have a remote helper which can post reports via web-based media for your sake. It can likewise like, offer, or remark on posts made by your companions or anybody on present via web-based media. For instance, If one of your companions has shared an image of their birthday festivity, you can naturally remark in a similar reference on that post and send your desires with the assistance of your menial helper without composing anything physically. However, it will consistently request your endorsement first before playing out any activity via online media.

10) Bill Split for parties :

Each time you go out with companions either for informal breakfast or perhaps supper, after all the great piece of babbling and the dinner itself, I am certain parting the check can get somewhat confused. Indeed, Google has got some uplifting news for you.

Our next patent is about a POS (Point of Sale) terminal that can compute share for every person and naturally charge them their sum. On the off chance that one of the individuals pays the whole sum, at that point the legitimate offer for every one of the rest of the student is consequently charged from their ledgers or any e-wallet and is moved to the person who cleared the check. You can even part the tip given to the server.

HOW MANY EYES DO YOU NEED TO SEE?

A few months ago, I was officially diagnosed with glaucoma. This was a good thing, inasmuch as I waiting for a diagnosis. A few months before I had seen the neuro-opthalmologist who gave this diagnosis, and prescribed eyedrops to begin a course of treatment, I had seen an opthalmologist who noted the high amounts of pressure in my eye, but gave me a referral to see another doctor instead, because my youth made glaucoma seem unlikely, and he wanted to check this pressure was not caused perhaps by a brain tumor inside my skull pressing against the back of my eyes.

You probably are a little unclear on what glaucoma is. It is most known, I believe, for being a condition that smoking weed helps. Before medical marijuana became legal and able to be prescribed for anxiety and depression and all the psychological conditions people had been using it to self-medicate for for years, glaucoma was a cited example of a condition whose effects were mitigated by smoking. When I explain that I have it to friends now, there usually comes a point at the end of the conversation where they bring it up. For what it’s worth, I hate smoking weed. I feel debilitated by it to do anything I enjoy, like write, or follow a conversation,  or accomplish tasks without being distracted. Most people who smoke a lot of weed will either tell me that the effects I have a problem with go away after steady smoking, and that I probably haven’t found the right strain yet. The act of getting to this point seems an unpleasant one, filled with physiological incapability. Of course, CBD is now basically sold as a cure-all that takes care of any bad feeling one might have, but it is apparently the effects of THC that take care of glaucoma.

Glaucoma is an increase of eye pressure. As you are aware, the eye is a soft orb of mucus membranes, and some duct or another regulates the release of a fluid into them, to keep that balloon-like sac inflated, essentially. I’m unclear on the exact details. In glacoma, the eye gets too filled up. Maybe this makes the eye bulge out a little, it does seem like what I’m describing would lead to a situation where the eye eventually explodes. But before that, the pressure of the eye presses on the optic nerve. When I had this explained to me, by an optometrist, who told me I was pre-glaucoma and I should go to an opthalmologist to get my eyes looked at. I thought I would experience this as physical pain. After I forgot about the appointment I had made, I anticipated I would experience pain and that was when I would need to go to a doctor. It turns out this is wrong, because the optic nerve isn’t really set up to register feeling, it’s set up to see things. So as the pressure wore on my optic nerve, moreso in my left eye than my right, my vision deteriorated. However, I didn’t notice, because I have two eyes, and together they form a composite image, and my right eye compensated. I would experience weird effects of light, sort of like there was a smudge on my glasses lens, and occasionally it would seem like what I was looking what had a crack in it and was bleeding light, but I didn’t really know how bad it was.

It was when I finally saw an opthalmologist, and in the checking to ensure my glasses’ prescription was correct, and he kept on switching out lenses and asking me if my vision was better or worse with each new one, I found I could not register any letters on the vision chart at all, that the whole field existed within a blank spot of blurred white light, that I realized how bad things had gotten. It was a scary day, certainly made worse by the physician’s suggestion I might have a brain tumor, and his general displeasure and frustration at the fact that I have an instinctual aversion to people approaching my eye to touch it, poke it, and administer eye drops. I am convinced this is a normal thing, but doctors often have God complexes, and apparently I was such a difficult patient that he refused to see me again afterwards. That’s neither here nor there in the story I want to tell, but I do hope he gets hit by a bus and killed.

Anyway, I have now seen a doctor that prescribed eye drops, and then I saw another doctor who prescribed still more eye drops, and I am broke enough to qualify for Medicaid so I haven’t paid for any of these things, so all of that is good, and while I’m concerned about how coronavirus will effect the ability of these prescriptions to get into the country it’s fine thus far. The doctor has made clear that all of these things, however, are really just to make sure my vision doesn’t become worse, that I don’t become totally blind, as far as they’re concerned, the damage done to the optic nerve is irreversible, and won’t be returning to where it was before, which was pretty bad, but at least able to be corrected by strong prescription corrective lenses.

Not covered by Medicaid are the lion’s mane mushrooms I have elected to take. Lion’s Mane, supposedly, stimulates nerve tissue growth. People take them for depression and “brain fog,” and so I had been toying with the idea of investigating them anyway, before I started to think that maybe they would help repair my optic nerve as well. I am well-aware that a lot of people consider any herbal remedies to be snake oil peddled by the likes of Alex Jones and Gwyneth Paltrow, but a bunch of my friends are hippies and herbalists, and the people so assuredly righteous in their politics often have deeply reactionary cultural opinions they are not interested in examining, lacking even the self-awareness to get offline and take deep breaths to make themselves feel better. I don’t consider Lion’s Mane a placebo in any way, but I also register the necessity of feeling hope and the grounding nature of a ritual such that I will probably continue to take it for a while even if there are not immediately noticeable effects.

I am interested in perception, cognition, and how brain chemistry dictates who we are. We are taught as children about the lobes of the brain, how the left brain is more analytical, and the right brain more emotional and intuitive. Ideally, we have easy connection between these two lobes, and when we see something, we are both able to tell what it is and feel a certain way about it. Writing about comics, I try to be as intuitive as I can, to pick up on things that are perhaps unconsciously present, to write about something other than the exact nature of the plot or how well-rendered a background is. It occurs to me that, since the left eye is processed by the right brain, I might be feeling the things I see less than I should. This is all theoretical. It does feel like it’s been ages since I’ve seen a movie that I felt particularly moved by, though it is easy to chalk this up to the cynicism of age. I am still capable of seeing the movie, the full page, still able to read and put the thing together in my brain; and at the same time, I’m placing everything into the larger context of my life, the same way everyone does. Even my favorite film of 2019, Uncut Gems, I didn’t find as nerve-racking as other people apparently did. Maybe that’s because I went in aware of a good deal of hype and other people were more surprised by it? There is really no way to know. The brain makes a composite image consisting not just of the two eyes, but everything else it’s taking in. I can perhaps attribute a certain hesitancy in my own writing to the lack of synchronized lobes taking in what they see, that rereading my own brain no longer gives me the weird floating feeling I used to get from it. I check that it makes sense and still feel like I am fighting uphill, and remain doubtful of everyone else’s writing. “”Why are you talking like this?” I ask of most sentences. Again, I would maybe be asking this anyway, most people are bad at writing, and it doesn’t take some sort of newfound autistic attentiveness to notice that.

All this connects to comics, and to the fact that I write about them. This sense that I am somehow impaired in my ability to read them, I don’t think anyone else would think if I didn’t bring it up, but I feel like I would be lying by omission not to mention. I disclose it in the name of honesty, even as I am on a certain level only articulating this anxiety to avoid the morbidity of talking about how my thoughts about perception, cognition, and the construction of the self apply to death, in this time of pandemic, when all of my or your or someone one or both of us love could have their entire brain go blank and no amount of adaptogens could reanimate it. (The past few days, I’ve also been drinking chaga and echinacea teas for the sake of my immune system.) And while I don’t think this issue with my eyes applies to written text as much as it does all the other forms the visual world can be arranged to convey information, if I am taking in the news in a less emotional way than other people, that is probably for the best.

bared teeth [3]

pairing: rk900 x reader

summary: the other wolf visits you. 

the case, as it turned out, was supposed to be handled by gavin and connor. but because of gavin’s constant absence and near-aggressive attitude towards the witness and victim, the department chose to put it on pause. despite not being there, you felt sympathetic towards the others involved, in particular the victim. it was just their luck that they had been given a useless detective on the case.

at the very least, connor was able to get some pictures from the crime scene. he said that under protocols he couldn’t investigate any further, or else this case would have been solved already. as a junior investigator, you were not allowed to go to a crime scene without the supervision of a human partner.

that quelled the excitement you had for the investigation. of course, you couldn’t complain now, since you had everything available. photographs, evidence, victim reports, witness testimonies, and an android built to accomplish the same tasks you were assigned to do.

“what can you see, just from these photos?” connor was the first to break the silence. he stood across from where you sat, and gazed down at both you and the evidence. with both of his hands splayed on the surface, he couldn’t possibly look any more intimidating. yet, a part of you thought that was what he wanted. to intimidate you until you grew used to it. to be honest, a small part of you was growing used to his presence.

you looked at his face, remembering what had happened on the roof. his gray eyes were narrowed, perhaps trying to decipher your facial expression, trying to pick a weakness.

“(name), i asked you a question.”

he didn’t so much as move forward, but it felt like a small slap to your face. you jumped, heart beating erratically before you realized that connor was frowning. the way his lips were uneven just the slightest would have looked cute, even comical, but you knew better. the wolf was preparing to growl at you, his fur already prickling along his neck.

“s-sorry!” you managed to choke out, quickly grabbing hold of one photograph. your face drifted towards it, gaze unyielding. thankfully, you did spot something that you previously overlooked. “th-the window shattered from the inside. someone or something broke in.”

connor seemed to find your response satisfying, as his expression changed. he lets out a hum as he gently plucked the photo from you, looking at it himself. “yes, indeed,” he said, nodding his head slightly. “and who do you think would be the culprit?”

the android, of course, you thought.

but, looking at connor, whose cold and silent eyes showed nothing. you knew that he was looking for something articulate – something that could impress him. your mind was working, trying to turn over words and ideas. cohesive thinking wasn’t what you could master a situation like this. you always preferred doing things by yourself, figuring out the concepts and analyzing the details without anyone aiding you. you knew that connor was trying to mentor you, urging you to think. but you couldn’t and quietly, frustration built up within you.

“don’t give up now, (name), if you don’t want to say anything more just say what’s already on your mind,” connor’s voice cuts through the dark haze. there was a slight tilt to his head, locks of dark brown tickling at his forehead. “i won’t bite.” his lips twisted upwards into a stilted smile that showed a hint of teeth.

you realized that despite his cold exterior, he was still trying to calm you with his own version of playfulness. suddenly, the wolf disappeared, becoming a tamer version, a dog perhaps. but he was no dog, he had said it himself. he was, however, good with what he wanted to show, it looked natural on him, but you knew better. slowly, you took a breathe in, attempting to hold yourself together.

“this...this could be from an android. there was blue blood on the glass, suggesting a hasty break-in. or perhaps, there was some kind of fight that led to the blood staining the glass. either way, we could be looking at more than one culprit. the other photos suggested that the culprits knew the apartment well. they took the valuables first and when the victim found them, they assaulted her.”

you looked up shyly, but nevertheless, you felt a sliver of pride knowing that you’ve managed to string together a coherent thought process and turn them into words. connor’s LED flashed a brief yellow whilst his jaw clenched. you really hoped that he approved of what you just said.

“very good, little one,” came connor’s response, mild and surprisingly soft. he then straightened himself, tugging at the edge of his sleeve cuff. you flushed at the nickname he gave you, not knowing it was anything but teasing. yet you liked it enough to feel a smile forming on your face.

the tension that you felt just a few minutes ago evaporated. yet, you still felt the need to say something, “thank you, connor.”

------

connor left you alone after a while to visit the cyberlife tower. he was scheduled for maintenance and to report on what he did for the week. you still felt baffled to realize that your mentor was built by humans. to you, he was another life, a life that was just as intriguing as the next.

before he left, he had made you coffee. with milk and plenty of sugar, he said. when you looked at the steaming cup still untouched on your desk, you felt another wave of warmth settling on your cheeks. you groaned, leaning against your seat as you covered your face with both of your hands.

feeling the drowsiness settling in, you finally reached for the cup. that was, right after you took a photo of it and uploaded the picture to your friends.

the relief from drinking the coffee quickly washed over you. originally, you had intended to rely on your mental duress to keep you awake. but as soon as you started graduate school, a cup of coffee became your lifeline. and like everything else, the drink quickly became part of your habits.

your phone vibrated as someone texted to the group chat. oh lookie, your boyfriend!

visibly, you smacked your face at those words. yet, the visual that appeared in your mind wasn’t that coffee cup, but of something else entirely. connor abruptly materialized into your thoughts. 

no, not boyfriend, you texted back. it wasn’t really a response to your friend but more so a response to yourself. a part of you was starting to feel something for connor and you blamed it on your easily infatuated mind, still captivated by ideas of romance and girlish fantasies.

minutes passed by again. by the time it was 11PM you felt confident in the crime that you were investigating. it wasn’t a homicide case thankfully, but it still dealt with deviants. what you gathered was that the android working for the victim had made acquaintanceship with other deviants. they raided the apartment for things to sell but was caught by the victim. so they attacked her, partially blinding her during the deed. they then escaped, passing by a human witness who was on their way out.

it was such a simple case, one that could have ended if gavin hadn’t been there. you were certain that if connor was given free reign to solve it himself, he would have done so. but now, there were still the deviants on the run, of which nobody could track now that several weeks have gone by.

this was all gavin’s fault, you decided. you didn’t like him from the way he acted towards you, but now, you were certain you hated him.

and speaking of gavin, here he was.

“where is that fucking tin can?” his aggressive voice shattered the peace, causing you to jump out of your seat. the older male was angry, face flushed and hands gripped into tight fists. he looked as if he was about to punch something when he came up to you. without prompting, you took a step back – gavin was quick to notice.

“h-he went to cyberlife,” you answered in a meek voice, eyes failing to meet his gaze as your hands started twitching. “if y-you want, i could contact him f-for you?” still, gavin was one of your co-workers and, technically, your mentor. you hoped that this could help alleviate his anger. unfortunately, it didn’t. 

“son of a–” gavin didn’t even give himself time to finish his sentence before he was gripping your shoulders. rough palms became iron clasps as you felt your bones crack, nearly breaking under his harsh touch. “–bitch!” he roughly shoved you to the side, causing you to stumble and fall.

disoriented, scared, and embarrassed, you chose not to stand up, lest gavin chose to assault you again. you weren’t sure why he did it and what compelled him to do so. but you know now that you never ever wanted to be in his presence again. connor intimidated you, yes, but he wasn’t dangerous and volatile. and suddenly, you started wishing your android companion will return.

what if he chose to stay at cyberlife for tonight?

“shit, shit, that motherfucker dare to break into my home and take my stuff.” gavin said, biting at his thumb as he paced the floor of the police department. you caught fleeting glances of him before you turned your eyes to the ground. hesitantly, you stood up, until you were on your knees. just when you found the courage to move and stand, gavin’s shadow consumed your frame. “don’t move,” he commanded, voice seething with rage.

you gulped, body freezing as he eyed you up and down. there was a moment’s pause where you could hear the beating of your own heart. your lower lip trembled, eyebrow twitching on the edge as you heeded his instruction. you thought he was going to kick you, but instead, he closed the small distance between you two.

an awful sneer presented itself on gavin’s face, and he said, “this position looks good on ya, makes you look nice and pretty.” he was grinning, but what’s worse was how he was flexing his fingers. you decided to make an attempt to move, knees backing away with what little awkwardness it could attempt.

“stay away! please, we’ll both get in trouble if someone caught us!” you said, almost begging him as he followed you.

hearing your plea, gavin feigned shock. “how? oh you thought i’m gonna to fuck you or something? hah! what a fucking freak, no wonder that fucking android likes you,” he said, harshly. and still, a devious grin played upon his lips. the older male then placed a foot lightly upon your chest just as your shocked look met his gaze. “heh, don’t think i don’t know. i saw that hunk of metal cozying himself up to you on the roof.” 

before you could even attempt at a response, a pair of footsteps echoed through the empty department building. then, a flash of black and white entered your vision, hurling towards gavin as it punched him to the side. standing as if nothing had happened, was connor, who took the moment afterward to adjust his jacket. two strands of dark brown hair hung untucked from his forehead. but overall his appearance was still immaculate.

you then noticed the stark red of his LED. that was the first time you’ve ever seen connor with red on him. it felt suggestive of something, perhaps anger, but you couldn’t tell if it was or wasn’t. either way, you were saved.

without hesitation, you stood up, and despite your best efforts to steady yourself, you still found your body shaking and your mind in a daze. gavin’s touch left phantom imprints of pain on both your shoulders and chest, but what truly struck you was his words.

you would have run off like the rabbit you were but when connor looked at you, you knew to stay here. meanwhile, gavin was shouting curses at him, rolling around on the floor as he clutched the side of his head. blood was trickling down his skin, you shouldn’t be smiling when you saw it but you did.

“assaulting another human as a member of the detroit police department is against the laws, detective reed,” connor said. at that moment, you felt satisfaction coursing through your mind. there was something different in the air now, a relief that was parting the tension. you made a move to stand beside connor, and then looked down towards gavin.

“fuck you, tin can!” gavin managed to spit out, face raw and red with fury. but, when you looked closer, you noticed something else. a hint of fear was evident, a fear you hoped reflected your own.

“fuck you too, gavin!” you suddenly cried out, voice scratchy and hoarse. despite it all, there was a tremendous amount of euphoria in doing this. you never knew you could say such things, cursing was never your favorite. yet, knowing what he did and said, you just knew it was right to respond this way. you weren’t even trembling anymore, but rather, you stood tall and focused, a once ebbing tide turned tidal wave.

“wonderful response, (name).” connor said with a smile, which you were quick to notice. there was an edge to his voice, a dry humor that he showed impeccably well. “i suppose detective reed knows better than to assault a fellow investigator? it would be a pity if i show the captured footage to captain fowler.”

gavin didn’t respond but instead chose to scramble up and leave, leaving the two of you alone. silence flanked his absence, in which you started rubbing your shoulder. now, another awkwardness ensued, but it barely lasted a couple of minutes before you decided to talk. “thank you for rescuing me.” against all better judgment you placed a hand upon the cuff of his sleeve, hoping it could transmit the gratitude you felt for him. he looked at you, his LED flashing a quick yellow before dissolving into blue.

he didn’t move from the position, nor did you retract your hand. slowly, you felt the urge to just grab his wrist. that urge quickly diminished with your shyness and restraint. but, you were certain that when you looked at him, there was a kindness painted on his face. perhaps, even a smile that was softer than anything you’ve seen from him.

“no reason to thank me, (name).” was his terse response, one that you both expected and didn’t expect him to say.

truly, what did you wanted him to say? he could be sympathetic and caring, asking if you were alright. but connor was an android who was built to assist police work, not a therapist. still, a part of you wished you could hear comforting words from him.

he was the only person closest to a friend here in the police department, after all.

@layinglonely @alexkunis

I rewrote an obscure Transformers comic from the 1980s.

Creator’s Commentary

It’s 1984. Marvel’s four-issue Transformers miniseries has been a smash hit, and they’re already expanding it into a full monthly ongoing. Marvel’s UK branch is looking to import the book, but they have a problem - the newsagents want weekly issues, and there simply isn’t enough comic to fill those pages.

To meet demand, they bring on Simon Furman to write extra comics weaving into the US material. Because he’s the only one with any idea what's going on, he continues to churn out Transformers stories for almost ten years - with only occasional contributions from other authors.

“Peace” is one such interloper.

Written by letterer/editor Richard Starkings under his “Richard Alan” pseudonym for the 1989 Transformers Annual (which was actually published in 1988), it presents one of Cybertron’s alternate futures. Its exact placement in continuity was contentious - even within the comics’ own letters pages, where the editors (writing in-character as Transformers) gave several contradictory answers to questions regarding its canonicity.

The comic opens when the final Decepticon is killed by the Wreckers - an elite group of Autobot shock-troopers. With the war over, the very-very-tired Autobot leader Rodimus Prime announces that he’s going to step down - letting the Wreckers’ leader, Springer, take his place.

Unbeknownst to the Autobots, not all of the Decepticons are dead after all - the double agent Triton still hides amongst their ranks. In an attempt to incite conflict, Triton suggests that Ultra Magnus would make a better leader. The Technobot combiner team agrees, and an argument breaks out between them and the Wreckers. Whirl argues with Triton, Triton punches Whirl, Roadbuster pulls a gun on Triton, Scattorshot shoots Roadbuster, Sandstorm shoots Triton, and the war begins again.

It’s a grimly interesting story, one forever doomed to remain a footnote in Transformers history. Fittingly for a bot of subterfuge, Triton’s alternate mode was a submarine - at least according to Dreadwind in the letters pages. Marvel UK fanboy-turned-creator Nick Roche much later reinvented him as a member of Squadron X - sworn enemies of the Wreckers in IDW Publishing’s Transformers continuity.

In its most recent reprint as part of the twenty-second volume of The Definitive G1 Collection, “Peace” was left stranded as an afterthought alongside Regeneration One - with the rest of the UK strips being collected across the first twenty volumes alongside their contemporary US material. That partwork was curated by Simon Furman, who still writes Transformers stories to this day - despite pleas from some corners of the fandom for him to just call it quits already.

Richard Starkings, meanwhile, went on to found Comicraft - bringing lettering into the 21st century by pioneering the use of digital fonts in comic books.

I wasn’t alive when most of that happened. My first brush with Transformers - at least, as far as I remember - came when I saw Transformers: Armada’s Land Military Mini-Con Team on the shelves of my local Woolworths (a much-loved now-defunct chain of British department stores). I didn’t get it at the time, but when our birthdays rolled around (or maybe Christmas? I was young; I barely remember any of this and neither do my parents) my brother and I got a bunch of Mini-Cons. Our first brush with Generation 1 would come much later, when we found a knackered Strafe at a car boot sale.

For a long time, my only experience with Transformers fiction came in the form of the cartoons - they didn’t show Armada on Freeview so I missed most of that, but Energon and Cybertron both aired in their entirety on CITV. I had the pack-in comics, and the Armada and Energon annuals - which basically just collected random Dreamwave comics without context. All of which is to say that, at the time, I felt pretty starved for good Transformers stories.

Finding the 1989 Annual in a secondhand bookshop, then, was like finding the holy grail.

I won’t lie. I had basically no idea who any of these characters were, or what was going on. But damn if I didn’t pore over every inch of those pages trying to work it out. And I sure as hell was gonna sign the thing, lest those abominable Firecons paid me a visit to finally incinerate what was presumably the only Annual they’d missed back in 1988.

Years passed. Some movies came out. I drifted away from Transformers for a while after my parents said “aren’t you a little too old for these” one time too many. Well, it was either that or the hordes of overpriced Bumblebees clogging the shelves at the time.

Eventually, though, I was drawn back to the franchise. A Humble Bundle of IDW’s comics and Thrilling 30 Sandstorm was all it took.

For some reason, at some point I decided to start a meme page. I don’t know why. Please don’t look at it. I don’t want to talk about it. Most of the edits I made were atrocious, although I’ll admit there’s a few I still find pretty funny. I actually referenced Transformers a bunch of times. There was this whole thing where I tried to work in a plot, so really the whole thing was much closer to a terrible webcomic than an actual meme page.

Perhaps the most involved reference to the franchise came in the form of a relettering of “The Night the Transformers Saved Christmas”, a 4-page comic originally published in a 1985 issue of Women’s Day. Why did I make that thing? I don’t know. Maybe a little more context would help.

Y’see, waaay back when the first Armada toys hit shelves, fans weren’t too impressed - to say the least. They’d seen pictures of highly-articulated prototypes, only to find that articulation completely absent in the finalised figures. To make matters worse, the first pack-in comic was pretty lacklustre - thanks to the trilingual dialogue squeezed into its speech bubbles.

One enterprising fan (Yartek, now better known as Blueshift) expressed their dissatisfaction by completely rewriting that pack-in comic’s dialogue - reimagining Hot Shot as a deranged, jam-obsessed cannibal. It was an idle joke, but one that tapped into the collective consciousness of the fandom at the time. Its popularity grew to the point where it was even referenced on the license plate of a later Hot Shot figure.

By Blueshift’s own admission, the comic isn’t all that great. Nowadays, the atmosphere surrounding Armada’s launch is but a hazy memory for most of the fandom - leaving the comic’s depiction of Hot Shot looking more like an uncomfortably ableist caricature than anything approximating a real parody.

But I digress. I was barely aware of Transformers when all of this happened. My point is that JaAm was like an abridged series, only presented as a comic, and I thought that was a neat idea. I was looking to make a post that was a little bit different for Christmas Day, and remembered the existence of that old Women’s Day comic. Thus was born “its christmas... so what??”

My process for that one was pretty straightforward. After reading the comic once to get a broad sense of its plot, I went through it again panel-by-panel - blocking out each narration box with an autoshape and adding my own text. Mustard features pretty heavily in it... I guess as a reference to jam? Honestly, I was writing this thing entirely by the seat of my pants and - with the exception of the choice panels I’m including here - it’s pretty unfunny as a result. I’m not proud of it. Even at the time, I felt like I could’ve done better. So, half a year later, I did.

When the mood eventually took me, there was only one option in my head - Richard Starkings’ “Peace”. This time, I took a moment to plan the whole thing out in my head before diving in.

I think my idea for the plot came about simply as a result of Rodimus’ body language and expressions on the second page. I reckon I looked at them and thought, “man, he looks like he’s just caught a whiff of something pretty nasty.” From there, my mind jumped to Triton... the culprit, naturally.

When you go back and read some of the early Marvel stuff, there’s a bit of dissonance between the Furman-esque galaxy-spanning conflicts and the more offbeat “the Transformers crash a wrestling match / concert / car wash” stories written by US author Bob Budiansky. At times, the Transformers could be figures of real gravitas - and at others, they were almost like children.

For both “its christmas” and “PASS” I tried to lean into the latter interpretation as much as possible. As a reflection of that, the dialogue and narration - both written in Times New Roman - are completely devoid of punctuation, capital letters, or special formatting. Well, mostly...

There’s a few instances in “its christmas” where capital letters are used for emphasis.

Roadbuster’s dialogue gets to keep its punctuation, and is written in (I think) Arial, because he’s supposed to be more mature than the rest.

Each comic had one panel which retained some of its original dialogue - the fourth on the first page of “its christmas”, and the fourth on the fourth page of “PASS”.

There’s a couple of instances in the comic where characters use swear words, only the wrong letter’s censored - “sh*t” became “*hit”, “f*ck” became “*uck”. That’s simply an artefact of the comic’s origins in my old meme page, where that was a running joke.

In addition to changing the text, I also made a few visual edits...

I changed the comic’s title from “PEACE” to “PASS” (as in, to pass gas) by chopping up and rotating bits of it.

I changed the credits for “RICHARD ALAN” (writer) and “GLIB” (letterer) to “ME” and “ME AGAIN”.

On the fifth page, I rotated Springer’s, Ultra Magnus’ and Sandstorm’s mouths by 180 degrees - changing them from horrified grimaces to jaunty smirks. That’s why they’re kind of lopsided relative to the rest of their expressions! Honestly, the original version looks pretty strange to me now.

I likewise modified Sandstorm’s and Ultra Magnus’ expressions in the first panel of the final page, and Nosecone’s in the second panel.

I scribbled out the question mark in the little “THE END?” box on the final page. This is the definitely the end; no need to beat around the bush.

The idea to make Roadbuster a butt monkey stemmed from the fact that he was the only non-triple-changer to appear on the first page. I saw that panel with the four of them together and thought “one of these guys is not like the others.” And of course, I knew that he’d be dead in a few more pages.

Once I’d established Springer as a bully, I started to get a sense for what life was like amongst the Autobots - but there were still things I wanted to leave open to interpretation...

Why does Roadbuster hang around with the other Autobots so persistently, when all he receives is abuse?

Is Triton’s fixation on “cred” overblown, or is it the only reason he’s survived as long as he has?

Is Rodimus really past his Prime?

Who’s really the coolest Autobot?

Are the Autobots inherently bad people, or simply products of their environment?

If they’re the latter, does that excuse their actions?

If these are the Autobots... then what were the Decepticons like?

Here’s some other miscellaneous notes...

There’s a single speech bubble on the fourth page where the speaker’s off-panel. In the original comic it belonged to Triton, shouting “HEY!” Here, I like to think it’s Whirl speaking.

In the narration of the second panel, I refer to the Transformers as “car robots” - a nod to the Japanese name of the Transformers: Robots in Disguise series.

Rodimus’ “light their darkest hour” line is, of course, a quote from the 1986 animated Transformers movie. Yes, I’m as tired of those references as you are, but no, I couldn’t resist.

I can’t remember if it was deliberate, but I’m pretty sure “if you catch my drift” was a nod to The Transformers: More than Meets the Eye - where original character Drift stars as Rodimus’ third-in-command.

Speaking of More than Meets the Eye - when it was relaunched as Lost Light, Rodimus got a brand new purple colour scheme. In “Pass”, Rodimus agonises over whether or not to get that same paint job.

“Mucho cred” is kind of a memetic phrase amongst readers of the superhero web serial Worm. I feel like “cred” is one of those inherently funny words (along with “cahoots”), so that was enough to justify its inclusion here. If you’ve somehow made it this far into this post, trust me when I say that Worm is a rabbit hole well worth tumbling down.

“Peace” has a very strong atmosphere. It’s about a group of individuals - who’ve known nothing but conflict for thousands of years - suddenly finding themselves with nobody to point their guns at. That exact same scenario played out decades later in IDW Publishing’s Transformers continuity, where it was explored in much greater depth - but in just six standalone pages, “Peace” presents its broad themes with impressive clarity.

I think we’re very much invited to root for Triton - he’s a real worm, but he’s also an underdog. When characters are created whole cloth in Transformers stories, they’re marked for death.

“Pass”, on the other hand, is about a group of kids who’ve lost all sense of perspective. The most important thing to each of the group’s members is how they are perceived by the rest. They’ve been living under ever-increasing social pressure, and things are finally reaching a boiling point - and people die as a result.

And I say “kids”, but the truth is that I still see these dynamics amongst grown adults today - admittedly without the death. For any given subculture, you’re going to find ingroups, outgroups, and the awkward middle ground between them. If I thought there was a clear-cut solution, I would’ve put it in the comic. But oftentimes - like I said in the closing panels - there isn’t really anyone at fault.

If you fart in public, don’t stress about it too much. Nobody really minds. Just own up. And whatever you do, don’t try to pass the blame - or else...

As one final nod to Marvel UK’s Transformers comics... here are some short AtoZ profiles for the entire cast!

You can follow me on twitter if you want to see more of my Transformers ramblings. The rest of my writing can be found right here on this blog - I recommend starting with Everything Is Red Now, a dumb comic about Spider-Man.

Studio IV

Focus

A discussion with Ben and Pete has really helped us to find a pathway for our next steps with our project. 

The general idea is to pick apart our project; what was good and what was bad, to determine which areas need more research and refinement. We also need to explore the many variations of each aspect of our project. 

We’ve listed off the items which we thought of as our pros and cons. (List courtesy of Andrew’s post)

Pros:

- The overall emotion that we wanted to invoke in our audiences was successful in that we got several responses that the play-through made them re-analyze their life as a whole in the context of legacy

- The wooden construction aesthetic

- Tactility of interaction

- The Kitchen soundtrack to accompany the narrative

- The concept effects everyone in one way or another

Cons:

- Device was very finicky and required extensive maintenance for it to function as intended

- The mechanical construction was unreliable and built rushed

- The overall aesthetics of the installation was ruined by a digital monitor

- The conceptual framework behind our project was not clear and accessible for audiences at first glance

- The musical outcome was too abstract and most of the legacies sounded ethereal and dreamy (Perhaps that’s what we want? That way people can self interpret whether their outcome was satisfactory or unsatisfactory)

- The potential for an interdisciplinary narrative was not explored in depth

- The narrative was hetero-normative and did not accurately reflect individual(ism)?

In summary, I believe we had a large focus on the creation of the contraptions at the cost of the articulation of the narrative.

We’ve narrowed down our project to three main pieces; the narrative, the contraption, and the outcome.

Essentially, the narrative should drive what the outcome/artefact will be, which influences the construction of the contraption.

The narrative is where a lot of the theory and research should shine, making it clear to the public the core concepts we are deriving our project on. The rest of the experience should further emphasize this as well.

We’ve brainstormed some ideas around how the narrative is presented, but ultimately, this will be influenced by the research we do.

- Film / Animation

- Images / Photography

- Choose your own adventure book

- ‘Scenario based’ rather than ‘Whole based life’

- Painting

- Audio Narration

- Comic

- Newspaper

- Letters / Pen Pal

- Receipt / Proof of Purchase

- Telephone / Voice Messages

- Photo Album

With a different narrative format, we would hope to eliminate any sort of guided direction for the player, as our text narrative was too hetero-normative and did not provide the opportunity for individualism as much as we hoped. In this sense, with a better narrative structure, the legacy outcome should feel more personalized and be a true reflection of ones life. 

The Overarching Problem with Supergirl and its Actors

Okay, I feel that for full disclosure I should just say that I don’t ship supercorp. I do understand the anger as a member of the LGBTQ community. Though, I’m not surprised something like this happened and it has everything to do with how the show has changed and what the writers have chosen to do. See, I started watching Supergirl with the pilot episode. I didn’t watch it for queer characters. I watched it because it was feminist and the most significant relationship was a familial one between two sisters. That struck a chord with me because of my own relationships. I also once had a boss much like Cat Grant and enjoyed the quips and pure scene chewing by Calista Flockhart. I loved first season. It was developed, the characters were pretty consistent and characters like Hank and James were not relegated to five minutes of screen time (there are elements of racism that are going on as well). Season two was a let down after season one.

I was surprised when there was going the be a LGBTQ character added. It made the show more like my own life. I had hoped that this would somehow expand depth to the show in a new area, but it never did. The first few episodes were okay. They weren’t great. Then the characters and relationships I had loved disappeared without notice. They completely threw away James’ character and the budding relationship with Kara, the Danvers sisters disappeared, and Mon-El got more stories and screen time than previous fan favorites combined. Then the worst thing happened.

The two female leads became defined by their relationships.  Don’t get me wrong, I really liked the Sanvers ship and Maggie the first four episodes. The problem is the development after getting together never really happened. Since Alex became defined by her relationship, she didn’t get the same role as she had earlier. Alex faded away. This fade out shows how the show thought of how to deal with LGBTQ characters and why something like what happened at San Diego Comic Con came to be. A gay character either  fades to the background or rethinks their sexuality (ugh!).

Another reason is Kara was swept away into being defined by an inherently sexist and very flawed character. They made her change to fit being with Mon-El. The very nature of their relationship reinforces stereotypes that woman have been fighting for years. Mon-El controlled Kara, nothing he did was ever bad enough for her not to forgive him and his development showed a guy who never earned the redemption he received. Kara stuck with him over family, through lies, and really controlling behavior. This writing shows a bias that is not even from this decade in terms heteronormativity and a woman’s role.

See, stuff like that made them feel like it was okay to be rather immature and hurtful towards our community. Of course Kara wouldn’t ever be in a relationship with a woman! They don’t know how to present healthy straight couples (though, the writers and actors don’t know that) let alone LGBTQ characters that aren’t swept under a rug until they need them. I can tell you for sure that the actors are not unaware of who gets the most screen time. Winn and his girlfriend who framed him (another unhealthy relationship) got more time for a while than Sanvers. They probably will continue to since Maggie is becoming a reoccurring character. Look how well that worked for Cat Grant! Three episodes of great snark and just a pit of nothingness the rest of the season. It would actually be better for them to break up for actual gay couple representation on screen. The nonexistent wife/girlfriend trope will continue for gay characters. The actors know this, which is why the lead being LGBTQ would be ridiculous because they would suffer the same fate because of the laziness of the writers. Had they been actually progressive and showed a developing relationship on screen, maybe the idea that Lena and Kara could be more wouldn’t have been so crazy.

Before you tell me how much you hate me for defending homophobes, I am not defending the actors. I am just saying that they have been defended in their own actions by the industry in which they work. In their industry LGBTQ couples are not serious. They will give them their arch so they can appear “hip and liberal” to viewers.. The characters never develop past that stage for them and placing the lead in that category would kill a show. That is why they did what they did. It was wrong and callous. The later statements they made after the mocking I can find no reason for, other than they were trying to get support for the backlash they must of realized was coming. It really disappoints me and there is no good explanation as to why they would continue or call it “brave”. That part is entirely on them.

Now the response to backlash from those involved has been... well, bad. I can’t say anything else there. I do not know if the email circulating is real or not. I would need metadata and skills more akin to a journalist to figure out. But alas, I have neither since I am a biologist.  If what being said is true, then there is a major problem with the cast’s understanding of both how to get rid of a PR nightmare and that actions do have consequences. They were awful to  a part of the fandom they particularly don’t understand and they don’t think they need to try. I get the anger. I am angry and I don’t even ship it.(I do love Katie McGrath, so I totally understand why you would ship it). I am mad at Chris Wood for his completely ignorant and terrible statement. I grew up in a homophobic town and I know how stuff like this compounds until you just want to scream.  I do think we all need to take a deep breath though, because there is some stuff going down that needs to be rectified on our side as well.

First, let’s not call people people names. It demeans us, the LGBTQ community, as much as our detractors.When they go low, we go high. Second, the best place to show anger is ratings. I decided after hearing what was going on with Mon-El returning and Maggie leaving there was no hope. I’m not watching a show that is unhealthy. Do the same if you are upset. Finally, we need to realize that we must be articulate with are argument in order to get the point across. Just saying that their actions are homophobic will not win over any people. People who are not members of our community do not often know that there are many shades to homophobia. They only see it when it is blatant and, in the context in which this was done, they see us only as whining about not being canon. Yeah, there are going to be a shit ton of people who won’t get it. It will be frustrating as hell, but if you defend your argument well you can get people who want to understand. One word answers, being disrespectful and fighting will only lose them

Just be polite and respectful. A lack of understanding and respect caused this in the first place. If you need to vent to someone over this so you don’t go insane, I am an insomniac researcher. I just wrote a long reason about why the show had problems and am posting it at almost four in the morning my time. I am willing to let you stream of consciousness anger at me.

I also apologize for any errors in the above text and its length (the academic in me made me get this to 1300 words, shit. I could probably make this a full length paper with time). As I stated before, it is almost morning where I’m at and I’ve yet to go to sleep.

Best of luck to you all,

TTK

Do the odds 🐢

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? i have cereal dry bc milk is gross but i do like cereal as a snack3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? mostly plane tickets or train tickets

5: are you self-conscious of your smile? yes altho i used to be worse7: do you name your plants? i only have one plant and no it has no name but now i feel bad, what should i name my plant???? 9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? Y E S always its a running joke at work that i’m always singing to myself 

11: what's an inner joke you have with your friends? my mind has gone blank idk 13: what's something that made you smile today? texting15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! “you are taller in space” - this is fuckin me up cos princess leia is sO TINY imagine how small she would be on earth im emotional17: what color do you really want to dye your hair? i actually rly like my hair the colour it is at the moment but i’d prob go darker to try it rather than super blonde again idk19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? no im not organised enough for a journal but i do doodle in my work diary when i finish a to do list21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that's been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. i love my backpack that i haggled for in venice it’s blue and white and super comfy and i love it23: what's your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? netflix (and cuddling~)25: what's the weirdest place you've ever broken into? i broke into my friends house once by crawling through the kitchen window bc she forgot her house key27: what's your favorite bubblegum flavor? bubblegum flavor? idk?29: what's something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? dan always squeezes my hand rly tight when he’s happy and i love it when he’s happy31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. i rly like socks, especially when they’re fun socks i hate just black or just white socks!! i like to wear them to bed too otherwise the monsters might get my feet but if its super hot i might not. i don’t always wear socks in the day but i’ll mostly put them on for bed

33: what's your fave pastry? uh idk but i had an amazing vegan donut in dublin it was delicious 35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? i like pens but just like basic bic pens i like to have lots and lots but uh i like looking at stationary in paperchase but i rarely use it37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean? i like it clean but it is often messy because i am Terrible39: what color do you wear the most? burgundy! 41: what's the last book you remember really, really loving? i read an anthology (the last one) from the otherworld series when i was in aus and honestly it was great i loved it so much that series means so much to me and it ended so many characters stories in a beautiful way43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? i have no idea tbh45: do you trust your instincts a lot? close my eyes and leap? uh yeah i try to trust my gut!47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe? pineapple49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? i don’t rly buy physical cds anymore and i don’t have my own record player so~ i bought ed sheeran’s new songs last night on itunes??51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them? marygrace - mr brightside53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them? yes, yes, no, yes - i love rocky horror and i wanna see it live, heathers is Great, and pulp fiction is p good!55: what's the most dramatic thing you've ever done to prove a point? lmao i am a dramatic person idk i’ve probably done a lot of dumb shit57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? i cba but i could sing it from memory and yes of course59: what's your favorite myth? uhh idk i don’t rly have a fav??? i do like mythology tho esp greek stuff and i read some p cool fantasy books based on myths and metahumans61: what's the stupidest gift you've ever given? the stupidest one you've ever received? lmao i don’t even know omg my sister got me condoms once??63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? okay so my DVDs are all alphabetical except disney classics which have their own section, and boxsets are also separate, my books are in cubes and they’re sorted by age, also author and in series when applicable. also there’s a star wars section. i can’t wait to have my own place so i can get proper bookshelves tho tbh65: is there anyone you haven't seen in a long time who you'd love to hang out with? my cousin adam! he lives in greece and i didn’t manage to go visit him over christmas when he was home which was sad 67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? a lil gloomy but then i’ll take buddy for a walk and we’ll bounce along together and he always makes me feel better69: what are your favorite board games? trivial pursuit, bezzerwizzer, pointless, articulate, taboo, pictionary, citadels, life ... i love board games71: what's your favorite kind of tea? anything fruity73: what are some of your worst habits? biting my nails, speaking too loud, chewing ice75: tell us about your pets! MY BABIES okay i have two dogs; meg is a black lab and she’s an ol lady now but she’ll always be my angel girl and she got me thru some dark times in high school tbh, okay then my boy - Buddy Boo Rainbow Maurice is his official name (blame my sister) but my lil buddy he’s my saviour honestly, so he’s a beagle cross but we dunno what with and he’s HUGE like a beagle on steroids but with his lil beagle face and floppy ears like goddamn cutest ever tbh he’s such a bundle of joy i love him So muhc. then i have 3 chickens (we used to have 5 RIP) and they’re called Dragon, Jemima and Sue Ellen (yes, she’s mine, yes named after a Dallas char) they’re p chill i read to them sometimes last summer we read the book thief and hp philosophers stone77: pink or yellow lemonade? yellow79: what's one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you? dan’s mum invited me to spend christmas with them when she found out my family were going away and she made me a special christmas eve present like i was just ~another kid in the family and i went again this year and honestly it’s just the sweetest thing i love them all so much and they’re all so welcoming and wonderful and i don’t deserve such goodness in my life (also shoutout to delani who drove all the way to may and kate’s to surprise me for new years!!!)81: describe one of your friend's eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. like the sea when a storm is brewing, but with a hint of steel underneath and the sun is still just visible on the horizon83: what's some of your favorite album art? tswizzle speak now, ed sheeran + ??? idk i use spotify on my phone mostly i don’t look at album art hahah85: do you read comics? what are your faves? sometimes, i like anything about girls tbh87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? The Holiday, Star Wars, The Parent Trap, Rear Window, 17 Again, It’s a Wonderful Life89: are you close to your parents? yes they’re my heroes91: where do you plan on traveling this year? canada! hopefully disneyworld too, and i;d like to see more european cities; lisbon, krakow, berlin!!93: what's the hairstyle you wear the most? i either shove my hair in a bun, braid it or wear it down 95: what are your plans for this weekend? hang out with my friends!97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? INTJ, scorpio, gryffindor99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. little miss, ours, truth in your eyes, follow your arrow, sugar we’re going down, a thousand miles, she is the sunlight, cotton eye joe