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headspace-hotel · 2 years

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My random unsubstantiated hypothesis of the day: the popularity of "stim" videos, fidget toys, and other things like that is a warning sign that something's Deeply Wrong with our world.

Don't freak out. I am autistic. These things are not bad. However, can we just...take a second to notice how weird it is that there are entire social media accounts full of 10-second videos of things making crunching noises, people squishing slime in their hands, and objects clacking together, and that enjoying them is mainstream and normal?

It seems that nowadays, almost everyone exhibits sensory-seeking behavior, when just a decade ago, the idea of anyone having "sensory needs" was mostly obscure. It is a mainstream Thing to "crave" certain textures or repetitive sounds.

What's even weirder, is that it's not just that "stim" content is mainstream; the way everything on the internet is filmed seems to look more like "stim" content. TikToks frequently have a sensory-detail-oriented style that is highly unusual in older online content, honing in on the tactile, visual and auditory characteristics of whatever it's showing, whether that's an eye shadow palette or a cabin in a forest.

When an "influencer" markets their makeup brand, they film videos that almost...highlight that it's a physical substance that can be smudged and smeared around. Online models don't just wear clothes they're advertising, they run their hands over them and make the fabric swish and ripple.

I think this can be seen as a symptom of something wrong with the physical world we live in. I think that almost everyone is chronically understimulated.

Spending time alone in the forest has convinced me of this. The sensory world of a forest is not only much richer than any indoor environment, it is abundant with the sorts of sensations that people seem to "crave" chronically, and the more I've noticed and specifically focused on this, the more I've noticed that the "modern" human's surroundings are incredibly flat in what they offer to the senses.

First of all, forests are constantly permeated with a very soft wash of background noise that is now often absent in the indoor world. The sound of wind through trees has a physiological effect you can FEEL. It's always been a Thing that people are relaxed by white noise, which leads to us being put at ease by the ambient hum of air conditioning units, refrigerators and fans. But now, technology has become much more silent, and it's not at all out of place to hypothesize that environments without "ambient" white noise are detrimental to us.

Furthermore, a forest's ambience is full of rhythmic and melodic elements, whereas "indoor" sounds are often harsh, flat and irregular.

Secondly: the crunch. This is actually one of the most notably missing aspects of the indoor sensory world. Humans, when given access to crunchable things, will crunch them. And in a forest, crunchy things are everywhere. Bark, twigs and dry leaves have crisp and brittle qualities that only a few man-made objects have, and they are different with every type of plant and tree.

Most humans aren't in a lot of contact with things that are "destroyable" either, things you can toy with and tear to little bits in your hands. I think virtually everyone has restlessly torn up a scrap of paper or split a blade of grass with their thumbnail; it's a cliche. And since fidget toys in classrooms are becoming a subject of debate, I think it pays to remember that the vast majority of your ancestors learned everything they knew with a thousand "fidget toys" within arm's reach.

And there is of course mud, and clay, and dirt, and wet sand. I'm 100% serious, squishing mud and clay is vital to the human brain. Why do you think Play-Doh is such a staple elementary school toy. Why do you think mud is the universal cliche thing kids play in for fun. It's such a common "stim" category for a reason.

I could go on and on. It's insane how unstimulating most environments humans spend time in are. And this definitely contributes to ecological illiteracy, because people aren't prepared to comprehend how detailed the natural world is. There are dozens of species of fireflies in the United States, and thousands of species of moths. If you don't put herbicides on your lawn, there are likely at least 20 species of plant in a single square meter of it. I've counted at least 15 species of grass alone in my yard.

Would it be overreach to suggest that some vital perceptive abilities are just not fully developing in today's human? Like. I had to TEACH myself to be able, literally able, to perceive details of living things that were below a certain size, even though my eyes could detect those details, because I just wasn't accustomed to paying attention to things that small. I think something...happens when almost all the objects you interact with daily are human-made.

The people that think ADHD is caused by kids' brains being exposed to "too much stuff" by Electronic Devices...do not go outside, because spending a few minutes in a natural environment has more stimuli in it than a few hours of That Damn Phone.

A patch of tree bark the size of my phone's screen has more going on than my phone can display. When you start photographing lots of living organisms, you run into the strange and brain-shifting reality that your electronic device literally cannot create and store images big enough to show everything you, in real life, may notice about that organism.

#nature #thoughts #random #forest

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sgiandubh · 11 months

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It all starts with a smoke alarm

This wasn't supposed to happen like that, of course. It was supposed to happen with an ”allow me to introduce myself”, at the least. But hey, I am playing the cards I've been dealt, and since an anonymous ask on Tumblr does not allow pictures or links, this will have to do. We'll have plenty of time later.

Yesterday, I said that reading that Single Report reaped benefits. I have screen capped and summed up all the things that made me rise an eyebrow, to make things easier. Hopefully, this is going to be short: who would wax lyrical about a septic tank, after all?

I did not use my superpowers to do this, but simply the link provided by a very active Anon on several shipper blogs, in order to properly stir shite, I presume: https://corumproperty.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2023/05/HomeReport-31.pdf

Armed with my wits and a virtual highlighter, I started to carefully read the whole document. Ownership details aside - this, I discussed yesterday -, I remind you that it should give any prospective buyer a good, detailed idea of the available fittings and current condition of the house put on sale.

In Europe and elsewhere, I guess, inspections of this type are rather a dull and thorough affair. And these people did an excellent job: they checked every single nook & cranny, used binoculars to have a closer look at the roof tiles and listed it all on these papers a good researcher should read, before dropping to conclusions.

This is how we know, for example, that the inspection happened on a rainy day:

.. and that the guttering was overflowing. Does that sound like a well loved, lived-in house to you?

Thought so.

This brought a smile. And the image of a Christmas tree left near a London dustbin in June. Home, sweet home?

Like all properties, this also comes with burglar and fire alarm systems. However, apparently not much has been done, in this respect. Or at least, not recently. Not since February 2022, to be accurate: otherwise, they would have been upgraded. Yet, no such thing: it's up to the buyer to do and pay for the upgrade.

Lived-in? Certainly not after February 2022 and probably even earlier, would be my best guess. But lived-in at some point in time, most certainly.

You see, since I was on the real estate agent's webpage, I also took the virtual tour of the house. It is available to everyone, here: https://my.matterport.com/show/?m=AFKibrk8QiD

Now, I don't know about you, but when I visit somebody's house for the first time, I always check the bookshelves: yes, I am a shameless nerd. I am also well aware that the rest of the furniture was staged, it looked that sad, clinical way it does all over the world. Did not expect to find any books in there, to be honest. And yet, there they were.

I didn't bother with the fashion coffee table books, although I thought they were a nice nod to Ms. B's past, and totally the kind of things she might have on her credenza.

A built-in bookshelf in the basement caught my eye. That did not look staged. It looked as she might have left some of her own books in there, like an afterthought, if you want. And people's choices of books are always speaking volumes to me, about who they really are.

It did not disappoint.

More fash-un. And yeah, Tiffany & Co! I knew it!

A Tina Turner bio or memoir. Awww:

Bette Davis and some feminist literature. Her books, I am pretty sure of that:

And, to save the best for last, lo and behold, what do we have here?

Bear Grylls?

That Bear Grylls?

Hahahaha. Of course. I have all the reasons in the world to believe the music producer/PA/whatever is into masculine thrillers written by a world-renowned survivalist, haven't I?

Not a chance in hell, to be honest. I grinned like the Cheshire cat because, ladies, we do know WHOSE book is this, don't we?

Judging by its jacket, well-read. Not a prop.

Belonging to someone with a dry, wicked sense of humor who apparently also left this gem:

A Captain's Duty. At this point in time, I wasn't grinning anymore. I was laughing like an idiot, of course.

Slàinte mhath, ladies. We'll have time for a proper introduction later.

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mayajadewrites · 4 months

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Levi Ackerman x Reader: Almost

Chapter Six: Coffee Ice Cream

Chapter Summary: We start off in Levi's POV, getting more insight on him and what he's thinking. He invites you over for TV and some ice cream. Nothing more. *tehe*

Fanfic Preface: Modern AU Levi Ackerman x Reader fanfic I’ve been dying to write! Levi is my latest hyper fixation so this was bound to happen. There will be other AOT characters in the mix, but remember this is a modern AU!

WARNING: SMUT AHEAD

ao3 link

☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕ LEVI ☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕

It's been a few days since our little incident. I didn't want to come off as obsessive, which I may or may not be, but I knew if I wanted this to last and bloom I needed to give her space to continue to be her own person.

"Mr. Ackerman, I've meal prepped for you for the next week and there's a load of laundry going." My housekeeper, Daisy, says as she fixes her apron. "Is there anything else you need me to do?"

"No, thanks Daisy." I nod for her to dismiss as I walk through my mansion.

Honestly, I'm not sure why I have a housekeeper. No one cleans like I do. I guess I keep her around for the cooking since I'm shit at that. Cleaning has always relieved my stress and makes me forget where I am in the world.

I didn't start off as a millionaire, almost billionaire. I started at the very bottom, with my mother.

We used to live in homeless shelters and sometimes strangers couches, until she fell ill because of our living circumstances. I watched my mother wither away in front of me, like a rose.

"Levi, promise me you will be something." I remember she said to me as she was taking her last few breaths. "Mommy will always watch over you."

Then she was gone.

Social services picked me up after that and I went to live with my aunt and uncle. They lived comfortably in middle class with no kids - lucky me.

I'd like to think mom would be happy with how far I've come.

☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕

"Levi, your new assistant starts today. Don't run her off, please." Hange gives a pleading look. "She's nice."

"Nice and competent are two separate things." I continue to jot down notes from a contract I'm reading.

"Levi, this is Juliet. Your assistant." Hange walked into my office with, who I'm assuming is Juliet. She's young, with long blonde hair and brown eyes. Conventionally attractive.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Ackerman. What do you need me to do first? Do you want me to get you coffee?"

"I don't drink coffee. I drink tea. And I get that myself." I look up from my desk. "Hange, have her go over my schedule for meetings next week and make sure everything is in order."

"Sure thing boss." Hange left with Juliet, closing my door gently behind them. I have a therapy appointment today, thankfully it's virtual. I open my laptop and sign into the portal to initiate the meeting.

"Levi! You look good!" My therapist, Maria, smiles.

"Thank you. The camera probably smooths out my skin."

"So, tell me about your week. What are you feeling, what's going on, all that jazz."

"I punched a guy in the face last week."

"Levi! What did we talk about with your anger?"

"I did think it over. I thought before I punched, and after. I don't regret it."

Maria shook her head, bringing her glasses to the bridge of her nose. "Ay dios mio, you make my job so hard sometimes."

"That's why you get paid the big bucks, right?" I let out a rare chuckle.

"Why did you do that?"

Because he was touching whats mine.

"I thought he was going to take advantage of someone."

"Who's this someone?"

"I don't want to tell you about her yet. Then that means its serious."

"You punched a man because of her, that's not serious enough?"

"No. It's not. I'm 30 years old, Maria. I've never had a real relationship so I'm navigating it the only way I know how."

"Levi, she is not your mother. You can't treat her like she is a fragile human being. She has feelings, like you, and she is her own person. Does she want to be serious?"

"I'm not sure. We're ... dating? I guess that's different from being in a relationship."

"Ah, taking things slow. I see. Well, tell me about her."

"She works at my favorite coffee shop that I go to every day before work. Except I get tea. Anyways, I've seen her almost every day for 6 months and I've had long and short conversations with her. Only recently have we started seeing each other."

"And what are you scared of?" Maria's question stumped me.

I'm scared of everything.

I'm scared of losing her. I'm scared of losing what I have. I'm scared of starting a family only to have it ripped from me.

"Levi?" Maria snapped me out of my thoughts.

"I'm scared of, a lot. My feelings scare me. I feel, protective over her. I feel like I want to savor every moment we're together. I'm also scared she's going to run off once she truly sees my life."

I'm rich, like, filthy rich. She works hard for her money, lives alone, and has dreams of opening her own coffee shop. Which I can help with.

She's used to doing everything for herself. She doesn't have a housekeeper, a chef, none of that. She cooks, cleans, and does everything herself.

Everything I want in a woman is in her.

"You can't go around anticipating people leaving." Maria tapped her pen on her notebook. "You know what I say, everything happens for a reason. There's a reason you connected with her and there's a reason you feel the way you do about her. I don't think it would hurt to explore those feelings more."

After your therapy session, I decide I'm inviting her over for the first time. I want her to see how I am, in my house, and I want to observe how she is.

Me: Are you busy tonight?

Her: If by busy you mean I have a date with a pint of coffee ice cream and Grey's Anatomy, then yes.

Me: Would you like to do that here?

Her: Here is where?

She's gonna make me work for this.

Me: Here as in my house. I'll pick you up at 7.

☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕ BRATTY BARISTA ☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕

After getting ready for Levi's, you take a look at yourself in the mirror. Your outfit consists of leggings, crew socks, sneakers, a low cut tank top and a zip up hoodie. You can't lie, part of you wants Levi to continue what he started at your place last week. The other part of you is scared shitless to go to his mansion.

At 7 PM sharp, you hear tires roll in front of your place. By the time you lock your doors, Levi is waiting outside the passenger door for you. He kisses your cheek before letting you in the car, scanning your body.

You study the drive from your place to his - about 20 minutes. Levi lives in a rich, residential area with plenty of land to spare.

Walking into his home, it's spotless. Like, actually spotless. No dust anywhere, nothing is out of place, even the remotes on his coffee table.

"I bought some coffee ice cream and I have Netflix set up for that show already - Grey's what?"

"Grey's Anatomy. You're watching it with me?"

"I was serious when I asked you if you wanted to do that here. Can we start from the 1st episode?" Levi grabbed 2 spoons and the pint of ice cream.

"Sure." You walk over to the couch, which looks like a cloud, and sink your body into it. So this is what it's like to have money.

Levi pressed play, opening the pint. He plunged his spoon into the ice cream as neatly as he could, bringing it to your lips.

You open your mouth slowly, letting him insert the spoon into your mouth. You stare at his eyes as you lick the spoon, getting lost in the clouds that live in his eyes. He pulled the spoon out of your mouth, taking a scoop for himself.

Levi had coffee ice cream residue on his bottom lip, which he quickly licked away. You stared at his chiseled jawline as he watched the show, his eyes moving back and forth with the scenes.

Eventually Levi put the ice cream away, knowing we would eat it again later. As he sat down next to you again, you couldn't help but notice a bulge in his pants.

We meet again.

Levi put his arm around the back of the couch, leaning back so his chest was stretched out. You could see his collarbone peeking out of his shirt, along with his sculpted muscles.

"You're not even watching, brat." Levi interrupted your daydream.

"I'm watching something else." You turn your body toward him. "It's much more interesting."

"What do you mean? I think it's ok so far -" Levi directs his attention back on the tv, getting lost in the plot.

You took advantage of this moment and unzipped your hoodie a bit, exposing your cleavage. He didn't seem to notice, but he will soon.

You slide into him, making sure he can feel your body against his. He looks down at you through his jet black locks, seemingly by surprise.

"What-"

"Shhhh." You press your finger to his lips, pulling your leg over his lap so you're straddling him. "You can't talk until I'm done. I mean it. Not a word." When did you suddenly get bold?

Levi's erection was more prominent now, pulsing against your thigh. You trail kisses down his face, neck, chest, and eventually you snake down to your knees, in front of his belt buckle.

You look up at Levi, who's mouth is open like he wants to say something.

"Remember the rules, Mr. Ackerman." You wiggle your finger, unbuckling his belt. "Not a word until I'm done."

His belt slid off with ease, as you pulled his slacks down to his ankles. His dick print through his boxer briefs startled you, but you're not gonna stop now. You spread his legs, pushing yourself in between them.

You drag your fingertips down his stomach to his pelvic region, tracing the 'V' line gently. You glanced to look at Levi, who's eyes were dead set on you.

His underwear came off, and his dick slapped his abs. Your eyes grew wide from his size, knowing you might have bit off more than you can chew.

You take one hand and start pumping his dick slowly, brushing your thumb over the tip. Pre-cum leaked from the slit, motivating you to pump harder.

You take some of the pre-cum from your finger and slid it into your mouth with a 'pop' sound. Levi groans, letting his head fall back.

You bring your lips to his tip, sucking it gently while pumping his shaft. You could not take all of him in yet, but you will. Your other hand starts massaging his balls, which hitched his breath. Your tongue caressed every vein in his dick, paying special attention to the tip.

Levi finally put one of his hands in your hair, directing you on his dick. You took more and more of him in, eventually hitting your gang reflex, but you didn't care. The look on Levi's face is worth it. He whimpers as your tongue cascades along his length, the sounds alone causing him to almost overstimulate.

Levi moaned your name before you felt his dick start pulsating in your mouth and his hand pulled your hair roughly. "Where do you want me to cum?" Levi said with short breaths.

"In my mouth."

It was less of a mess that way.

That must have sent Levi over the edge. He unleashed his load in your mouth, holding your hair tightly.

You snake your body up to his face and smile, swallowing his load.

"Fuck." Levi caught his breath, kissing your lips gently. "My turn." Levi pulled you onto the couch, laying you down horizontally. "But you can be as loud as you want."

Levi slid your leggings off, revealing your hot pink thong. He played with the straps before sliding them down your legs, kissing your thighs as he passed by.

Your core was drenched at this point from sucking his dick alone, and seeing him at your pussy sent you to another planet.

He slid two fingers in without warning, pulled them out, and sucked them while keeping his eyes on yours. "What a good girl. So wet for me." Levi started pumping his fingers, curling at your clit.

"Levi.." You moan his name, curling your toes. Levi presses his hand on your stomach, sitting his face in-between your thighs. His lips touched your pussy, sending electricity up and down your body.

The entire time, his eyes are on you. Watching every face you make, listening to every moan. Levi ate pussy like it was his last meal. His tongue and fingers invaded you and made it their home instead. Your walls started to pulsate as his tongue went in and out of you, devouring every last drop.

"So beautiful." Levi mumbled against you, curling his fingers one last time before the world went away around you. The feeling is euphoric. A man hasn't made you feel like this, ever. You've pleasured yourself enough to give yourself an orgasm, but this is different.

"Levi." You moan loudly, gripping his hair, riding out your high. You could not focus on one thing - there were no thoughts in your head. Levi ate you through your high until your legs were shaking uncontrollably.

Making his way to your lips, Levi kissed you gently, the sheen of your arousal all over his mouth.

"I wish I could savor this taste forever." He groaned, putting his hand behind your neck and pressing you into him gently.

His lips moved with purpose, making sure every inch is taken care of. Your lips are plump from all the arousal, your heart feels like its beating out of your chest.

"Do you still want to watch Grey's Anatomy?"

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman aot #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman fanfic #levi fanfic #levi aot #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfic #levi attack on titan #levi smut #levi ackerman smut #levi x you #levi ackerman x you

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spontaneousglitterbees · 1 year

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[DRV3 Postgame AU Masterpost]

Sorry it's taking me a bit to answer asks, I read every one and cherish them -! I'd figured I'd doodle a bit in the answers, but then ah. This one changed course from 'whats up with shuichi' to 'actually we're overdue for exposition'.

Oh, backstory?

Since Class 79 is at Hope's Peak For Real in this AU, Danganronpa can't very well be like canon. Our solution: infighting, sabotage, and plenty of Drama! Discussion under the cut.

I'd call it a non-Despair AU; the world's not over, and I'm currently thinking V3 is the only killing game at this point in the timeline, catalyzed by good old-fashioned envy (and, truthfully, indignation that strangers get to live out your fantasy while you and your friends are stuck in the building next door... the nerve!) Our mastermind isn't exactly a master hacker, but she's also not working alone. This Team Danganronpa isn't trying to physically harm anyone, but showing off their collective capacity to coordinate and maintain a takeover like this is bound to catch the administrator's eye. All press is good press, and there's a lot (of investor funding, mostly) riding on stories of TAPP's success, so HPA is incentivized to intervene ASAP. The team did not account for the aftershocks of making their peers virtually kill each other. Rantaro is having memory issues, Miu has to catch her breath (to her chagrin), Kiibo doesn't have a body, Kokichi has his cane... and that's just the beginning.

Whoops.

TAPP is kind of like "what if instead of synthetically pouring all of the talents into just the one dude, we experimented on some charity cases to see if we can just artificially build an Ultimate from the ground-up". The tech in the flashback-lights is definitely at play here, though HPA proper wasn't planning on a full memory wipe/personality override (but kept the theoretical capability in their back pocket in case things went south as Advanced Gaslighting) but uh. A bunch of highschoolers took hold of the controls, which is how you get a bunch of kids that sound like characters. They still are.

In this case, Team DR is like at least 3 at most 10 disgruntled teens in the Reserve Course tired of being overlooked. More looking for mischief than harm, but hey, if they can convince the interlopers being Ultimates isn't worth it and they should leave the school after all this and free up the floorspace? They won't argue. One of the things that strikes me about DR as a series is how its internal logic is less concerned with logistics than matching the emotional weight of what it can be like to be growing up and going through high school, so I'm trying to lean in that direction. I'm not completely sure what all this means for the THH and SDR2 crews, precisely, but we'll cross/burn that bridge when we get to it I guess!

This comic taught me a lot of new tools and techniques, hence it feels to me like it took forever but I am super stubborn and couldn't work on something else until the script in my head was actualized, which turned into 'the whole thing being done'.

There's a lot of easter eggs and little jokes in the first page in particular, should you seek them! Consider this another 'cut' in case you want to try and read the Small Handwriting on Rantaro and Miu's desks for yourself.

First:

I already brought up some of them in the WIP so I'll try not to repeat too much and just link here

Kokichi could join the toast, but doesn't (and yet he still sits with everyone). Kiibo doesn't drink anything at all but does want to be in the toast, so he gets a bluetooth speaker. Surely he will blast some vocaloid shortly.

That's Kaito's notebook Kichi is doodling in; Kaito draws a bunch of stars, and I tried to sort-of-almost emulate the drawing on Kichis whiteboard and also get across that it lacks line confidence (sketch over and over the same lines) and he keeps creasing the paper because post-press it doesn't take much activity for his hands to hurt. Also kinda wanted to imply that Kaito not only knows Ouma has his notebook, but probably gave it to him because he's learned it's inevitable Kichi will tease him and draw in it and at least being upfront about it he won't manage to hurt himself trying to steal it (phantom thief or not!) Kokichi's pride is a little hurt at first, but it becomes another of their small routines they don't acknowledge out loud that nevertheless are a kind of familiar comfort for both of them.

Space debris at terminal velocity is no joke man even a paint chip won't just crack your helmet (which you'd only survive via cartoon logic and presumably-magic duct tape) but easily crack your skull at least. I did a project on it in high school once, I should really look for it tbh

Rantaro’s To Do

Set up weekly meeting

Check what is up w/ Kiyo

Make sure Kichi goes to therapy this week

Call Rillianne

Rantaro’s Reminders

Blue: Class

Red: Study

Cyan: ‘Council (or w/e)’

Green: ‘Travel Nerd Time >:P’

Purple: ‘Hang out w/ me ~!’

Orange: Group Project

Yellow: ‘Call ur family this week, srsly’

Miu’s Notes (“Polygraph Improvements”)

Before install into K1-B0’s new body, improve algorithm for fig. (figurative) speech.

Consult Ishimaru?

- Gonta can get in contact

ALSO

I really did make some actual charts based on data from the character bios comparing things like height, birthdate, etc. vs. victim, killer, or survivor status (tho that is a gantt chart template and not filled in, oop). TL;DR the most interesting one to me is this:

Where basically when you account for how many students across the games are stated to have each blood type and the proportion of those students in a certain role, things are pretty even (AB has so few students its bars arent really representative of a trend, I just included them anyway) the type Os are disproportionately likely to be killers. For the record, there's one confirmed type O victim, and it's Nagito. I have no idea what this means. But if I am blursed with this knowledge, now you are too!

The code in tsumugis glasses isnt an easter egg bc i was getting tired and frustrated but the pods are roughly (no kiibo shifts things a bit) in class trial configuration, and on the base layer before all the Rest Of The Panel got added you could kind of tell who's who. Not so much anymore, so: Saihara has his hat on, for the record, and Kokichi is on his side while everyone else is on their back. Might even be a little restless, the feeling of underlying unreality playing substitute for some of (only some of, they're still being monitored) the surveillance anxiety. Fun!

And hey, as always, and especially if you've gotten this far: Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

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jeffblimchat · 16 hours

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I'm reading a lot of things about Hidge's sexuality canon wise. So taking account on what Nick and Matt Lang said (as much as I remember it without rewatching the video proof lol) my argument on why the canon sexuality of Prof. Henry Hidgens is that he is bisexual and has Objectophilia or he is Objectum.

Well I think canon wise he is not polyamorous. I can accept that (i have no problem with him being poly canon wise. I am not anti-poly, just faithful with canon) but I remember Nick Lang or even Matt did not specify it. They said, within along the lines/paraphrasing: Henry loves his six boy friends, they are special to him, but Chad IS the apple of his eye. The last sentence they meant romantically.

So why bisexual and not gay? To make it clear, I have no problem with him being gay. I'm willing to be corrected. But since I'm arguing that he's bisexual, well let me start. Of course we haven't seen Hidge talk about or falling in love with specific women characters in the saga so far, however he did say in TGWDLM " Alexa, I love you like every woman flesh and bone", so there ya go. If he can find a woman that is subordinate to him like Alexa and Siri, then he can have a relationship with a woman. Come to think of it, i think he loves Chad the most because I hypothesize Chad always goes along with his plans/ideas. Yes I believe if I were to analyze his relationship personality, he wants to be the dominant in the relationship. He's very controlling and spirals when he doesn't get his way. Which why this is a good segway to...

And with the mention of two famous AI virtual assistants, I think it's enough to say that Hidge has objectophilia. More so in NMT episode Time Bastard where he shared his sexual rendezvous with either one of them to Ted and implied how he did it (motor oil and elbow grease lol). Not to mention that he talks to Alexa and Siri like they're humans. Fun fact, I read somewhere that people who have this sexual orientation cant handle keeping a relationship with another human because they're too controlling hence having a relationship with an object is easier because it has no thoughts, no opinions to consider.

Also further explanation: ur friends can be ur life partners (hence there are old people living with friends in their twilight years) and some people like calling their friends as boyfriends or girlfriends. Hidge is just comfortable with his sexuality and closeness with his friends that he can call his male friends as his boyfriends. I think that's just Jeff's word play and humor going on as he wrote the song. And according to the song "it takes balls": Steve was a priest, Leighton was in a relationship with a person named Gary, and Greg was seeing/dating Steve's mom. Plus all of the boys, sans Chad and Henry, were attracted to females while at college based on their locker room talk acted by the Workin Girls cast.

I'm not like Unhidge Hidge, so tell me about ur thoughts/opinions/rebuttals as long as ur taking account of what I wrote here. Especially proof from the Langs with ur rebuttal. Of course in head canon or fan fic world, anything is free reins and you can experiment with Hidge's sexuality there. Just make sure to specify if it's canon or head canon so to avoid confusion and arguments.

Update:

I have the urge to check my HHP Working Boys screen recordings where Nick and Matt discussed Henry's relationship with the boys if it's poly or not. Update 2: Okay I watched it and Nick just says that Chad is his favorite so get out of that as you wish. But since the boys did their locker room talk about girls and Henry and Chad wasn't around, I don't think the boys were making out with each other unless maybe just Henry and Chad if it's not unreciprocated from Henry's side.

I can understand if most fans think Henry is gay and not bi since Nick and Matt have not given more concrete proof of his attraction to human females. My only arguments with him being bi is that he loves and has done sexual acts with Alexa and Siri, AI virtual assistants with female names and voices and he would love female robot versions of them (NMT episode: Time Bastard).

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abandoned-anemoia · 1 year

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Home is Whenever I'm with You

☯ Pairing: Vernon x fem!reader (3rd person) ☯ Genre: angst, fluff, slow burn? ☯ Word count: 3.7k ☯ Summary: Vernon tries his best to make his best friend feel loved but will it be too late to tell her how he really feels? ☯ Warnings: themes of aggression (not from Vernon), mentions of sadness/loneliness ☯ A/N: Minnie is really just a random name I picked so imagine whoever you want to! If you need to change the name, you are of course free to do so. Please Let me know if I need to add any warnings! ☯Disclaimer: None of my work represents any of the idols included in any way. This is merely fictional and all based on my opinion as a joke! I have nothing against any of these idols and love them all dearly.

☯Song rec: Home by Edith Whiskers (very specifically this version)

Please do not copy, translate, or post as your own!

The fridged wind whipped around her, stinging her face as she sat on the balcony of her hotel room. Tears streaming down her cheeks as she curls up in the chair.

Winter was always her favorite. It made her feel alive. She was not feeling alive as of late. Everything was a mess and it all came crashing down on her at her best friend Minnie's wedding.

She and Minnie had a mutual best friend, Vernon, who was rooming with her for the few nights leading up to the wedding and after. All three had grown up together and had been virtually inseparable their entire lives so it was not a big deal to them. Except for the fact that she hated that Vernon had to deal with her being upset the night after their friends' wedding.

So here she is, sitting outside by herself and sulking in self pity. The idea that Minnie would no longer need her or Vernon in her life was bothering her. But that was not even the main reason for her being upset since she knew it was stupid to ever think Minnie would just drop her two best friends. No, she was afraid that she would be the one who would be alone for the rest of her life. No happy ending like Minnie.

The sliding door opened with a loud screech. Stepping out on to the balcony, Vernon holds a blanket out to her.

"You'll get cold" he says as he goes to hand her the blanket. She says nothing and stares blankly into the night sky, unmoving. Taking the blanket and laying it over her, he sits down in the chair next to hers.

"Come on. You're gonna freeze out here."

"I'll be fine."

Silence envelopes the two as they sit outside in the cold. After a few minutes of prolonged silence, Vernon sighs, "Talk to me. I'm here for you. Always have been."

Tears welling up in her eyes again as she speaks, "It's just us now."

"What?" Vernon was shocked. He didn't understand what she meant by that.

She sighs and smiles sadly at him. "She has a husband and wants to start a family soon... And here we are, single with no spouse for the forseeable future."

"Hey! That's so rude. Who's to say we won't find someone?" He nudges her to get her to crack a smile. "Besides, you think we won't be best friends with her anymore?"

"No, not that we won't be friends anymore, just that... well, it won't be the same because family means more to her than anyone."

"So what, she's family oriented, that's not a bad thing" he sighs, "Your mind is not being kind to you, is it?" He looks to her just to see her head fall.

She nods, "No… I know it's all in my head. She's our best friend. It's just been the three of us for as long as I can remember, but something about the way she looked at him at that altar... like her whole world was right in front of her… I'm not sure if I want what she has or if I am afraid I'll lose one of my best friends."

"You don't have to worry about either of those things. Minnie isn't going to just leave us. Sure, she'll be a bit more preoccupied if she has kids but until then, nothing has really changed. She has a ring on her finger and a document to change her last name, nothing else to it. As for wanting what she has… I think everyone wants someone who makes them light up the way she does when she sees him." Vernon knows what she means, he had felt the same thing a few months back when she had gone on a date with a guy she met at work. She had come to tell him about how it went and the way her eyes lit up made his heart drop to his stomach. How she feels now has to be a mixture of both not wanting to lose Minnie and wanting what she has.

He holds out his hand to her, in hopes she would find some sort of comfort in his words or even just his presence, to make her feel like she does him. She slips her hand into his, interlocking their fingers, tears still streaming down her face. God, she's so beautiful. Vernon reaches for her, cradling her face with his free hand as he wipes away some of the tears sliding down her cheek.

"You're going to get sick, come back inside." His voice was soft, fearing anything he said could break her.

She nods, allowing Vernon to pull her up by their interlocked hands, "Thank you."

She didn't need to say anything more. He knows she was grateful for his words as she moves their linked hands over her head, his arm now resting on her shoulder as she curls into his side. He pulls her close and leads them into the hotel room, sliding the balcony door shut behind him.

…

A few months after Minnie's wedding, nothing has really changed. Vernon was right. She really didn't have anything to worry about when it came to Minnie forgetting about them. The jealousy hadn't gone away though. The way Minnie talks even more fondly about her husband, the way she discusses how happy she is having someone who understands her on a certain level, the way she talks about her future with such certainty.

She doesn't have that and it upsets her. After bringing her feelings up in a conversation with Vernon, he reassures her that she will find someone that cares for her, "You never know when it'll happen, but one day you'll love someone who loves you just as much."

Letting out a sigh, she stands from her seat at the little table in the quiet café. He had stopped by with her favorite food while she was on her lunch break, knowing she had forgotten to pack food for the day since she had complained to him about it earlier. She had sat with him and talked about her woes as he listened intently.

With her lunch break now over, she hugs Vernon and thanks him for bringing her food and listening to her ramble on about her feelings. He looks at her as if she is his world—as if she hung the moon and the stars in the sky. She hasn't noticed the little things he was doing for her, subtly attempting to hint at his affection for her. He was testing the waters, seeing how she reacts to every little attempt he makes. Vernon watches as she goes back to work, deciding it's time he heads back home.

…

She is having a bad day. Everything that could have gone wrong has. The pastries she was baking burned. The coffee she made was spilled all over her new shirt. She ripped her pants when she squatted down to help clean it up. She broke a piece of the frothing machine and got it taken out of her paycheck. Nothing has gone right.

Sitting in her living room, frustrated tears streaming down her face, the doorbell sounds through the room. She isn't expecting anyone but gets up from her place on the couch, wiping her tears away as she makes her way to the door.

Upon opening it, she is greeted by a smiling Vernon, a large bouquet of an assortment of her favorite flowers in his hands. He hands her the flowers as she moves aside to let him in. He knew she was having a bad day and wanted nothing more than to bring a smile to her face so he came to visit her, bringing her some of her favorite things.

She stands in the doorway, shocked by his gesture. She closes the door and follows Vernon into the living area, where he is sitting on her couch, unpacking his bag. He pulls out her favorite candies, snacks, and her favorite animal in plushie form. He looks to where she stands, motioning for her to come sit next to him with a smile. She sniffles, letting out a small laugh and walking over to him, "Is this for me?"

He nods, "You texted the group chat saying you were having a terrible day so I thought I would try to cheer you up!"

The smile on his face is as pure as gold as she watches him flip through channels on her television, presumably trying to find a movie they could watch. She can't comprehend that anyone would do this for her from simply telling them she is having a bad day. It isn't until he clicks on her favorite movie that her eyes well up with tears again. They aren't sad tears this time but when Vernon looks over and sees her crying, he is quick to wipe her tears away, "Hey, hey, it's okay. Don't cry, please."

You shook your head, launching yourself at him to wrap him in a tight hug, "I love you so much."

Those words both make his heart soar and drop the pit of his stomach at the same time. She means it, but not in the same way he does when he sighs and repeats the phrase. He doesn't know that when the words came out of her mouth, her slowly growing feelings were hidden behind those words.

Spending the whole night joking, talking, watching her favorite films, and eating her favorite snacks, the two of them wrapped around one another on the small couch. Every bad thing that had happened that day was no longer a worry for her. Being in his arms makes her feel safe—loved. Their breathing evens out, sleep overtaking them as the television continues playing in the background.

…

Sitting on the steps of her apartment building, quietly reading a book, she basks in the warm air blowing gently around her, the sun high in the sky but covered my white fluffy clouds. A man walks past, glancing at her before backtracking, "Excuse me, but I can't help but notice how beautiful you are."

She is shocked. No stranger had ever complimented her so directly. Her cheeks turn pink, glancing around her as if to see he was talking to someone else. When she sees no one else, she looks back to the man who is still standing at the bottom of the stairs, only a few steps away from her, "Thank you."

The man continues talking to her, making random conversation and throwing in compliments along the way. She thrives in his attention, hearing him discuss random things about his job and him asking about hers. He asks her to go out with him, exchanging numbers and telling her he would let her know when to expect a date.

As he walks away, she can't help but to feel giddy. Excitement rushes through her body as she stands from the stairs she is sitting on and races to her apartment. She calls Minnie, adding Vernon to the call when she answers. She tells her best friends about her interaction with the man, excitedly letting them know her thoughts and how he had treated her in the short time they talked.

Vernon felt uneasy, listening to her gush about this stranger. He hasn't gotten to vet this man, to see if he is good enough for the one person he loves the most. If she is going to choose someone else, he is at least going to make sure that that person is good enough for her.

…

Vernon sits quietly on her bed, watching her scramble around her room, occasionally asking him for his advice on an outfit or idea she has. She had called Vernon and Minnie to ask them to come over and help her get ready for her date. Vernon was the only one free at the moment, Minnie having had a meeting to go to.

He's worried she may get hurt because this guy was just moving so fast, never met her friends or even really talked to her since the day they exchanged numbers. Somehow he knows this guy is no good and he has asked her multiple times how she really feels but she is so excited, too caught up in the idea of finding someone to love her. If only she would see the person sitting on her bed, worrying for her, pining after her.

She looks so beautiful, so perfect in his eyes. He wonders if he could give her what she needs, continuing to pretend he's not falling into the deep end. He wishes to continue the friendship they have, too scared to have no one to hold if he ruins everything, so he keeps his thoughts to himself.

Ready for her date, she stands in front of Vernon, smoothing her outfit out in a panic and presenting herself to him. His breath catches in his throat at the sight of her, "You look out of this world."

She beams at him, "Really? Are you sure I look okay?"

"You look way more than just okay. Anyone who tells you differently is blind and doesn't deserve to look at you." His flattery only succeeds in making her happy and never making her notice his love for her.

As she readies herself to leave, a car horn can be heard outside. She runs to the window, looking out and excitedly grabbing her purse, hugging Vernon tightly, telling him he can stay if he wants. She rushes outside to meet the man who asked her on a date, who hadn't even parked the car or opened the door for her. Vernon watches as the car drives away, heart heavy and breath ragged.

…

The date hasn't gone as planned—as she thought it would. The man sitting across from her hasn't complimented her, not that he had to but his lack of attention hurt her a bit. He has only commented on the price of the food, the annoyance he has with the waitress, and the misogynistic tendencies he has. He makes her uncomfortable and self conscious but she can't seem to find an excuse to leave that he believes.

When he gets up to use the bathroom, she pulls out her phone and texts Vernon and Minnie, asking if one of them had the time to get her. Vernon is the first to text back, telling her that he is on his way. Minnie apologizes for not being able to be there for her today but she assures her friend that it is okay before the man sits back down in front of her, asking her why she is on her phone. Though she knows he didn't deserve an answer, she gave him one anyway, telling him that her friend is planning to pick her up.

He didn't like that answer, upsetting her when he slams his fists down on the table and storms out of the restaurant, leaving her sitting in the now quiet room. All eyes are on her, most of the patrons giving her looks of pity. She gets up, pulls out her wallet, places plenty of money on the table to pay the bill with a generous tip for the waitress as well, and exits the restaurant.

Once outside, she is bombarded with insults and many choice words from the man who had been so kind when they had first met. She receives a text from Vernon, telling her that he was there and would come get her. When she turns to meet him halfway, he grabs her wrist, holding it tightly and jerking her back to him. Before he can say a word, Vernon is shoving all of his weight into the man in front of her, successfully pushing him off of her and to the ground.

Vernon pulls her into his side and quickly rushes her down the street and into his car. Starting the engine, he pulls onto the street, heading to her apartment, "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

She shakes her head, staying silent for the entire ride. She is grateful for the man sitting in the driver's seat, he has always had perfect timing, today just proving it. Vernon worries about her, wondering if she wants to tell him something and can't or if she really is alright, "He didn't deserve you anyway. You're too good for men like that."

As he pulls the car up to her street, parking it in the nearest spot, she speaks up, "I know… I was just excited, that's all."

Before she can get out of the car, Vernon grabs her hand, holding it firmly, successfully making her look at him, "Do you want me to stay?"

He silently hopes she will tell him yes, but his hopes are crushed when she shakes her head, "I'll be fine. Thanks, Vernon. For everything you do for me."

She squeezes his hand before climbing out of the car, leaving Vernon to sulk. He silently watches as she walks to the door to her apartment building, disappearing inside. Sitting in the car for a moment longer as the heavens open up and rain beats against the pavement, he curses himself for not telling her how he feels but then again, Would it be too soon? Or too late?

As she closes the door behind her, letting out a breath, tears begin to make their way down her cheeks, dripping from her chin like the rain outside her window drips from the seal. The adrenaline had worn off and the mix of emotions inside of her were too much to bear. Her back presses against the door, sliding down it until she is sitting on the floor.

She lets her tears run dry, breathing beginning to even out as she sniffles, wiping her face with her hands. She just wants someone who pays attention to her. Someone who tries to understand her feelings even when it seems impossible. Someone who cares for her and knows all of her favorite things. Someone who she can just sit in silence with and know they care. Someone who… Wait. Her brain briefly stops its train of thought before chugging along again, bringing her to her next conclusion. Someone like Vernon.

She jumps to her feet, quickly opening the door, silently praying for his car to still be outside. And there he is, sitting in his car in the pouring rain. He looks up at her, seeing her standing in the doorway. Fuck it. He decides that he needs to tell her how he feels before it truly is too late.

Getting out of the car, he rushes toward her. She leaves the doorway of the apartment building, quickly moving to meet him despite the rain. She meets him on the sidewalk, standing face to face in silence before they both speak at the same time. Stammering as they try to let the other say what they need to say, Vernon holds his hands in front of him, signaling for them both to pause, "I'll go first, okay?"

The rain clings to his hair, water droplets falling from the tips. His clothes are stuck to his body, being soaked through by the downpour. She assumes that she looks similarly as she lets him speak, his words quickly falling out of his mouth in rapid succession, "I love you. And I mean that in an I'm in love with you kind of way and not a you're my best friend kind of way. It's totally fine that you don't feel the same way, I would never want to pressure you and-"

She didn't let him finish his rambling, crashing your lips into his. He only froze for a moment before reciprocating the kiss. She cradles his face in her hands as he grips her waist, pulling her closer. The raindrops pelt their bodies, almost as if a bucket of water had been thrown from the sky, but neither of them care, too lost in each other to focus on anything else.

When she pulls away, smiling and out of breath, she moves his hair out of his face, "I love you too. And I'm so sorry that I never noticed how good you are to me—that I never noticed my feelings before now."

Vernon smiles at her, carefully cupping her face in his hands before leaning down to press a chaste kiss to her lips. Her hands rests on top of his, staring up at him when he pulls away, "We should get inside."

He nods, pulling her into his side and leading her into the apartment, just as he did on the night of Minnie's wedding. The night that started it all.

He had always been there. When she needed a shoulder to cry on. When she needed someone to rant to. When she was feeling lonely and needed a friend. He was there. And now, he's standing in her apartment, both of them drenched and shivering slightly from the cold water soaking their clothes.

She leads him into her bathroom, leaving before quickly coming back with the clothes he keeps at her place. Towels line the floor as the both dry off, giggling at the ridiculous amount of water that had spilled onto the floor.

After changing into dry clothes, their hair still damp, they make their way to the living room, sitting down on the couch and making themselves comfortable. Her legs lay across his lap, one of his hands right above her knee, the other wrapped around her torso, pulling her close and keeping her warm. She curls into his side, flipping through different channels and apps until she finds a movie they both like.

Vernon grabs the blanket that is draped over the back of the couch and slings it around the two of them, maneuvering it until it covers their bodies. Basking in his warmth and the added weight of the blanket, she feels at home—cradled in his arms with a movie playing on the television screen.

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these-are-the-first-steps · 3 months

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This is radically off-topic, but I wanted to share an observance that perhaps hasn't become reality for some of you yet, but maybe the forewarning will help you in the long run.

One of my favorite singers of all time died very suddenly virtually on stage this past october. He was quite young, considering, at 57, and there was no explanation for it other than Fate snappings its fingers to take him away (it was a sudden brain hemorrhage).

This man, at the heigh of his youth, was, I would argue, one of the most beautiful people to have ever graced this Earth. He was gorgeous. His eyes could stop an entire room in its tracks. While inside he seemed quite shy and retiring, he seemed to not help stepping into a space like he commanded it. When he left us, he was still beautiful- no question- but Time, of course, is obliged to do its damage and he was no exception. Truly, none of us are.

My father spent my childhood reminding me that growing older is a privilege not everybody gets, because the alternative to "not growing up" is being dead. Of course, he's right.

After we lost the singer I loved so much, I've spent a lot of time considering beauty, age, entropy, and death. I have thought about who might be next, and how hard it would hit me- would it be just as awful as losing *him*? Or could it be even worse somehow?

My singer's death was sudden, and getting the news straight from an old friend in Tokyo before I even got out of bed was simultaneously like being hit by a truck and having a comforting balm immediately applied. I wonder now if those who go like that, fade away suddenly in a couple of hours, gain the privilege of preemptively comforting others from the other side once the news gets out. This was my impression anyway.

But others we love from afar, be they other musicians or actors or who knows what, are less likely to exit this world so abruptly. My singer once walked this earth as a living, breathing work of art-made-flesh, and while he lived long enough to wilt just enough under time's heavy burden, we did not have to watch him truly grow old. We, as people far removed who loved him no matter the year, were spared that mental dissonance, but the price was his life.

And so I have spent moments revisiting others I have loved since I was in school. The time has not even been that terribly great, in the grand scheme of things, but I have realized that the effects are inescapable. Not just on them, but also for myself. I look into the latest and rare ungarded photo of another I have loved so dearly and see the same wilting- another who walked and looked like a god and whose beauty we relished and appreciated for the living art he is. And I see the signs. It's around his eyes. The uptick of his mouth. And then I look in the mirror at myself, and I see, despite being so much younger, the same early hints of the price of living start to feather and touch my own body.

God willing he will make it to a far advanced age, but the price is losing human art. He will fade, and all we will have are photographs. But at least we will have photographs!!! What do I have for myself? Very little, if I am honest. I think about this sometimes, and wonder if it's too late.

Obviously looks are not the sum of a person, of course they aren't, and **this is not a post arguing that they are**. But they are the calling card and outward identity by which we recognize and interact with and cling to each other. For good or ill. We all walk this planet as unique pieces of art, and we all have individuals whose artistry we particularly love the most. In essence, that is what this post is about- admiration- and coming to the stark realization that, unlike paintings hanging in a museum, the living works of art we love have an expiration date. For myself, I have come to realize that facing the cognative dissonance of the Change is a jarring experience. Especially when it comes to musicians, we tend to cling to them during our worst times, especially as teenagers. They become Fixed Points in our psyches, and to suddenly become confronted with same-but-not-the-same, and god forbid death.....is this what becoming An Adult(tm) means? Not just having to watch what we love fade before our eyes but to also realize, like being thrown into a pool of ice water, that we are next? And that Time and Entropy have already begun to tee us up for our quickly approaching turn?

And so, as we began to love each other from a distance, god willing we will now age into the abyss together from a distance. I have often wondered if the truly elderly are sometimes happy for their turn to go because it at least means they can be reunited, one way or another, with those they also saw as dazzling paragons at their height who have since faded and gone.

This post is not particularly happy and likely comes off as a bit dark, but this is all to say, with my whole chest--- enjoy the era and the times you find yourself in. Enjoy and cherish and go see with your own two eyes the artists and others you love, now, here, as they currently are, while they are, in your mind, perfect. Time does not stop nor tarry for any of us, so you should not either. Don't wait to be with and look with admiration on others- or be too embarrassed to, either, for that matter- because this moment is so short, and soon this time will have passed and will be just a fond memory that you may wonder one day, just as I have done lately, where the ones you loved have gone. And perhaps you will also, like me, scream and cry and curl your fist at the ruthlessness of a universe that forces all of us into the same room together just so we can watch each other grow old and eventually die.

I wrote a short story once, after my grandfather passed ten years ago, about how life was essentially one big waiting room, not dissimilar to a doctor's office. There are toys to play with, magazines to read, sights to see outside of the window, but eventually the nurse will come in, call your name, and you will exit. I suppose I would add to this motif now the advice to don't forget to look around yourself either. Speak to the person sitting next to you. Admire the child and grandmother alike playing on the other side of the room. Tell the cute guy watching them you think he's hot- you'll likely never encounter him again so why not? Or who knows- maybe it'll go somewhere. After all, we are all stuck in this waiting room together. It may seem initially dull, but don't waste this chance. Admire everything with your whole being. This moment will not come again.

#philosophy #thoughts #long post #i just had to mull this over somewhere and put it onto paper #cherish yourselves as you are now because it will not recur- I need you all to understand this and not squander it #because I have squandered- whether through fear or sorrow or worry or threat #it is hard to overcome these things and Truly Live but we must try

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enterthecuttlezone · 1 year

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This post got ONE LIKE, you know what that means!

Welcome to Tati, son las tres.

Sometimes I feel like Tati. She’s easily excited by mundane things, smiles dumbly like a dog. She dresses plainly in “unfashionable” clothing until the occasion demands some movie magic (admission: I only do the first part). And for Tati, “English or Spanish?” is answered with “A little of neither.” When I was unemployed, I felt like Tati way too much. All of Los Espookys (season one was all we had back then) seemed to me to BE about jobs and trying to find jobs and not knowing what you really want to do with your life and that feeling of oh my god!!! You know? And to a certain extent, it is about that.

In the very first scene of the entire show, Tico tells Renaldo he should make doing spooky stuff into his business. “All I ever wanted to do was park cars, and now I do it full-time! This spooky stuff is your parking cars,” he says. Tico has loved to park cars ever since he was a kid. He’s a prodigy at it, and now he works as a valet and the valet world adores him. In terms of his career, he’s living the dream, doing what he loves and loving doing it. And this model seems to work for Renaldo too. He takes Tico’s advice, turns his friends’ spooktastic hobby into a business, and though he’s not exactly rolling in the dough (he still lives with his parents and doesn’t seem to have any other occupation), he enjoys the experience, taking exciting gigs, spending time with his friends, and making a little bit of money while he’s at it. And he’s happy.

The character of Úrsula doesn’t fare so well. She is virtually her family’s sole breadwinner, working 9 to 5 as a dental assistant for a dentist who does not respect her. Her freedom is limited by the demands of her job and the financial circumstances of her and her sister, Tati. Because of these things, she has less time to devote to Los Espookys, gets stressed out, and suffers the disrespect of Dr. Ricky, just trying to stay afloat. Eventually, Úrsula gets to the end of her tolerance for Dr. Ricky and quits her job. But her troubles don’t end there.

In the beginning of the series, Tati is working as a fan, manually spinning the blades of an electric fan and going “woosh” to keep her employer cool. Because this is a very inefficient way to do things, Tati gets fired. Throughout the series she works and gets dismissed from a number of different odd jobs, for example, breaking in other people’s shoes, or being a “human Fitbit” who counts her client’s steps. After having a falling out with her internet boyfriend, Tati decides to “focus on herself and her career” and gets involved in a multilevel marketing company called Hierbalite (wink wink). She believes in the prosperous future Hierbalite promises so much that she spends two thousand pesos on Hierbalite products to sell from her home. This gets her and Úrsula into a bit of a financial pickle.

Although Tati seems blissfully unaware of reality much of the time— she tells her new boyfriend (who is her ex-boyfriend catfishing her for the second time) about “how stressful this amazing opportunity with Hierbalite has gotten”— she has a few moments in which she expresses very eloquently the same emotions I felt when I was floundering about sin major, sin dream and sin job. While Tati and her friend Andrés are shopping for mirrors for a Los Espookys gig, suddenly and without prompting Tati says to him:

What am I doing with my life? Horror is your passion. You all know what you’re doing with your lives, but… What am I doing? Where am I going? I can’t break in shoes. I can’t count steps. I can’t help people lose, gain, or maintain weight. I can’t keep time. I fail at everything I try. I mean, where will I be in five years? What if it rains? I don’t have those kinds of shoes.

This scene, being TV, is neatly wrapped up with Andrés telling Tati that “there are those who enjoy the journey more than the destination,” and Tati, reassured, deciding that her dream is to “be Cirque du Soleil.” We never do see Tati achieve this dream. It’s entirely possible that she forgot about it the moment after she said it. At the end of the first season Tati marries the heir to a prosperous cookie company. Her happy ending: “Now I’m a married woman! No one can fire me from this!” (Season two spoilers: Tati gets another painful gig-economy job, her husband divorces her, and she ends up back in her sister’s apartment, gigging and gigging and gigging and gigging…) Not the most comforting story for floundering me. I guess this little Tati train is just gonna have to keep on chugging.

#los espookys

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dustedmagazine · 1 year

Text

Ian Mathers’ 2022: Are you with me even now?

For the third year in a row, Low are part of my reflection on the year that just happened. But this time I don’t want them to be. They didn’t put out a record, I didn’t see them play live (virtually or not) even once. I don’t really want to spend a ton of time going over Mimi Parker’s death and the reactions to it (including my own); I can say this is the one time ever in my life that mourning an artist whose work I love felt anything at all like mourning someone I actually knew. For at least a month I thought about it all the time, read about it constantly, watched and listened to everything I could get my hands on, talked about it often. It felt ridiculous and necessary. I don’t know what happens with my favorite band now; I mainly just hope her family and other loved ones are doing as ok as possible. One wonderful and horrible thing about the reactions is that they were both more numerous and more heartfelt than I would have guessed; up until a few years ago running into other fans of their work felt a lot more rare. 30 years into what I personally think stacks up as one of the greatest creative runs in all of popular music (I’ve been ringing the bell about Low doing better, more vital and interesting work than other bands [x] years into their career since… 2007’s The Great Destroyer at least), I’m glad that people were noticing what they did. The bittersweetness of that, that at least by the end Low were a lot more widely and deeply loved than I would have guessed... I hope she knew that too. How many artists have passed before they made their Double Negative and HEY WHAT? We can never really know the extent of what the world misses out on when someone dies.

Other than that horrible pall weighing down the end of the year, though, at least on the small scale 2022 was pretty good to me. The world in general continues to feel more and more fraught (here in Canada too!) and we’re still not properly dealing with a pandemic. With us being an immunocompromised household… when you see people talking about leaving behind the chronically ill, it absolutely includes those of us who, pre-COVID, nobody could tell weren’t “normal” or “healthy.” I did get to a very few shows this year, masked. But mostly this was a third year in a row of just… never going out or doing most of the things we used to do. Both my wife and I switched jobs to positions that are both much more satisfying and important to us and, not incidentally, quite a bit better paying. By the end of 2022 we’ve hit the first time in our adult lives where (despite how little it would take to knock us back down) we’re not experiencing constant financial stress.

I could have guessed this would change my relationship with music, but honestly, would have underestimated the degree to which that would be true. I’m happier with my writing this year, both frequency and end result, although there’s always more work to do on those fronts. And without feeling like I was trying very hard to do so, I somehow listened to 170 new LPs and EPs over the course of the year. And I found a lot to like, too: my 2022 playlist in Swinsian (which I tried out and then switched to when the Apple Music program started having weird glitches and hours of tech support couldn’t help at all) currently has a little over 1000 tracks in it, equaling over 3 days of music. There’s still a near-infinite amount of stuff out there I’ve never touched or even heard of. But more than ever, it feels like I covered my particularly bailiwick(s) as thoroughly as could be expected of someone who still has a day job and relatively normal life.

This increased volume of input doesn’t necessarily make me think 2022 was a better (or worse!) year for music than any other, but it does lead to a list of records that I feel more strongly about. There are plenty of good records I am keeping in full that just didn’t make it onto my list(s), especially since I’m sticking with a top 40 like I did in 2021. In years where I’ve ‘only’ managed to check out 80-90 records, even a top 20 often covers just about everything I’ve solidly enjoyed from the year. In 2022, 40 records isn’t even half of that group. It has made me reflect a bit on just how sustainable this all is — do I just keep accumulating dozens of records I love every year I’m here? How often am I going to go back to any of them? And sure enough, one thing all this new listening has done has drastically slowed progress on my now years-long effort to corral and organize my existing collection. But I do feel strongly enough about what I loved this year, both from existing favorites and acts totally new to me, that I’m probably just going to kick those cans a little further down the road. I’m also mulling over how, if at all, I want to change my listening in the new year, not least because one of the major ways I discover new things ended in 2022 (RIP, The Singles Jukebox).

As I’ve mentioned before in these roundups, I don’t necessarily feel like every year these days I have an “album of the year” (and am generally loathe to try and rank things). This year I can’t decide if I have one or two; Cloakroom’s Dissolution Wave was one of my most anticipated and ever since I first got the promo back in January, I’ve been listening to it very regularly. One of the things I like about music writing (at least the way I do it) is that it forces me to listen to records a lot more than I would even if I otherwise adore them, and at this point I have an almost Pavlovian joy reaction to the beginning of “Lost Meaning.” For a long time, it seemed like it stood alone for me, and I think it still does, but I need to give at least an honorable mention to Let’s Eat Grandma’s Two Ribbons. It didn’t have the immediate impact on me the Cloakroom did, even though that first half, especially, is immediately ingratiating. But over months I found myself going back to it more and more and in another year, I could easily see it having the unquestioned top spot. I’ve seen neither in most year-end stuff, which makes me a bit sad.

So here are the lists; my 40 favorite LPs, followed by 5 EPs, 5 reissues and/or compilations, 5 releases from Aidan Baker (which makes up not even half of the releases from his various projects!), and 20 ‘loose’ songs either from records I liked but who don’t make it into the main list, or where this song was really the only one I liked, or just ones that came out on their own. If all the little extra lists seem like cheating, well, they kind of are. But this was as narrowed down as I could get it. All of the lists are in alphabetical order, and for all but the songs list any links are to where I’ve written about them here at Dusted. For the songs, partly because so many of them do have music videos (and I love music videos), I’ve actually just provided a link to the song on YouTube should you be so moved. Last year I ended by saying I hoped we’d all continue to get better at taking care of ourselves and each other in 2022. On a micro level, I can say that did happen for us, and many of our loved ones. I hope as much as possible it did for you too, and we can all find the strength to keep at it in 2023.

40 LPs

Aarktica — We Will Find the Light

Alvvays — Blue Rev

Aoife O'Donovan — Age of Apathy

Beyoncé — RENAISSANCE

Billow Observatory — Stareside

Black Ox Orkestar — Everything Returns

The Body & OAA — Enemy of Love

Bruno Bavota & Chantal Acda — A Closer Distance

Carly Rae Jepsen — The Loneliest Time

Charli XCX — Crash

Chelsea Jade — Soft Spot

Cloakroom — Dissolution Wave

Earthless — Night Parade of One Hundred Demons

Eric Cheneaux — Say Laura

Esmerine — Everything Was Forever Until It Was No More

Ethel Cain — Preacher’s Daughter

Fujiya & Miyagi — Slight Variations

Hagop Tchaparian — Bolts

Hatchie — Giving the World Away

High Vis — Blending

Horsegirl — Versions of Modern Performance

Hot Chip — Freakout/Release

Jessica Moss — Galaxy Heart

Kali Malone — Living Torch

Let’s Eat Grandma — Two Ribbons

Locrian — New Catastrophism

Loop — Sonancy

loscil — The Sails p.1/p.2

Michael Beharie — Promise

Oneida — Success

Party Dozen — The Real Work

SASAMI — Squeeze

Spiritualized — Everything Was Beautiful

Szun Waves — Earth Patterns

Use Knife — The Shedding of Skin

Vince Staples — RAMONA PARK BROKE MY HEART

Water Damage — Repeater

Wet Leg — Wet Leg

Winged Wheel — No Island

Winter — What Kind of Blue Are You?

5 EPs

Gillian Stone — Spirit Photographs

Greet Death — New Low

Picastro — I’ve Never Met a Stranger

Sun’s Signature — Sun’s Signature

Trauma Ray — Transmissions

5 Reissues/Compilations

Broadcast — Maida Vale Sessions

Laddio Bolocko — '97-'99

Les Rallizes Dénudés —’77 LIVE

Prolapse — John Peel session 20.08.94/John Peel session 08.04.97

Wire — Not About to Die

5 Releases From Aidan Baker

Aidan Baker — The Evelyn Tables

Aidan Baker — Tenebrist

Baker Ja Lehtisalo — Crocodile Tears

Nadja — Labyrinthine

Nadja — Nalepa

20 More Songs

Animal Collective — “Prester John”

Boy Harsher ft Lucy - Cooper B. Handy — “Autonomy”

Caroline Polachek — “Billions”

Chappell Roan — “Casual”

Death Cab for Cutie — “I Won’t Give Up on You”

Diatom Deli — “False Alarm”

Duke Deuce ft GloRilla — “Just Say That”

Flume ft Caroline Polachek — “Sirens”

HAAi ft. Jon Hopkins — “Baby, We’re Ascending”

Ibibio Sound Machine — “Protection From Evil”

Miči & Sun-EL Musician — “Respond”

MUNA — “Anything But Me”

Porridge Radio — “Back to the Radio”

Spoon — “Wild”

Steve Lacy — “Bad Habit”

Storefront Church ft Phoebe Bridgers — “Words”

Stromae — “L’enfer”

Sudan Archives — “Selfish Soul”

Yeah Yeah Yeahs ft Perfume Genius — “Spitting Off the Edge of the World”

yeule — “Bites on My Neck”

Ian Mathers

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callmecayce · 7 months

Text

Happy Donghae Day!

2011 | 2012 | 2013 | 2014 | 2015 | 2016 | 2017 | 2018 | 2019 | 2020 | 2021 | 2022

Well, we’ve made it through another year and it’s time for Donghae Day! To be quite honest, I don’t know that I thought I’d still be such a big kpop fan in the year 2023 - I’m not sure I was even thinking about 2023 when I became a kpop fan back in 2011. Sometimes it’s hard to believe that 12 years have passed and then other times it seems it went by in a flash. But here we are - on the 12th annual Donghae Day!

For those (very few) of you who are new - October 12, 2011 was the day I learned about kpop. I’ve been celebrating this day in various ways since then. Prior to 2016 (when I was working 2 jobs), I usually went out to dinner with friends or treated myself to something nice. Since I started my full time job in 2016 (!) I’ve taken the day off almost every year (except 2020) if I was working. And this year is no exception! I don’t have any real big plans, except to go to H Mart and maybe Trader Joes. My life is so exciting, I know.

But that’s been the theme of the past few Donghae Days, ever since the pandemic took over our lives. I am one of the few people who still doesn’t go out (I haven’t really been sick since 2019) and see people that often, though I am seeing people, so I am not a complete shut-in. But Donghae Day isn’t to talk about these bad things (and god, there have been so many this year since the entire world is on fire). Instead, it is to talk about things that are good and happy - because those do exist.

Most every day (unless I’m off visiting my dad), I fire up my watch later and listen to the most recent releases (kpop and others). There’s a lot of great music out there and finding it and consuming it makes me happy, as does sharing it. That’s why I still do my song-a-day playlists! Every day since Kpoptober 2020, I’ve been posting one song a day and it’s still going. My first kpoptober was 2019 and I’d originally meant to just post in October, but after the pandemic, I decided I wanted to share music every day, so here we are. It’s a true labor of love, since all the tracks I post are ones I like (and sometimes adore). You can find links to all of the playlists (YouTube, Spotify, and Apple Music) by year here:

song-a-day playlists

Also in 2023 (some sad stuff happened: Moonbin, I miss you) - there were new groups that debuted and others that had comebacks, but for me there were a few specific comebacks that made me really happy:

Teen Top

Infinite

EXO

ONF

It’s hard to explain, but I don’t know that I thought either Teen Top or Infinite would ever come back, in spite of the fact that neither group had ever mentioned they were disbanded. Both of those releases were great and I am so happy they’re still making music. EXO coming back was also quite a shock (especially considering all the drama surrounding them and their contracts). However, their release was enjoyable as well (and in the process, my favorite members changed again - don’t ask or maybe do). And, of course, the rest of of ONF returned from the military - what a delight! Their release was also wonderful (and I think their albums might arrive today, which how perfect!) and as great as their previous ones. And while, sure there are plenty of other groups who’ve come back with great release this year (Just B, I’m looking at you), these four really meant a lot to me.

Over the past year it’s not just music that I’ve been consuming. I’ve made my return to watching kdramas and watched a couple of Chinese dramas as well. This year (2023) I’ve watched (and finished) 6 dramas (see them here), not as many (yet) as 2021, but more than 2022 (when I watched none). I’ve also been watching a lot of anime, both with the (virtual) anime club I am a member of and on my own, which has been a lot of fun. I’m reading more and have found my way back to Animal Crossing again, which has been a lot of fun.

But the real thing that keeps me going are my friends and family. Donghae Day only exists because my journey as a kpop fan hasn’t been alone. I have made so many wonderful friends, some have come into and gone from my life, but many others are still here. Not all are connected by kpop, some are people I’ve known for years (online and off), others I’ve only gotten close to recently and still others I've known only through places like Discord. I am forever grateful to these people, close friends and acquaintances alike. They have made my life a better place and I hope that I’ve done the same for them, even in just the tiniest of possible ways.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading! And if this is your 12th post or even your first, thank you for joining me on this journey, whatever form it may take. I hope to see you in 2024!

#donghae day

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blacknovelist · 2 years

Text

Speaking as someone who has played oneshot since its initial iterations as an rpgmaker game a solid... man. It's been like. What. Almost seven years?? Eight???? Screw the progression of time, man, the original game came out literally in 2014

But like it's insane to think about ngl. I remember when it was just this... little short cute lookin meta game I picked up not long after playing OFF (since the meta scene was super popular by then) like, oh, cool, let's see what it can do! It'll be fun!

It turns out what it can do is give you terminal brainrot that lasts a blindingly vivid eight years and the now borderline fundamental childhood-earlyteen memory of crying for over an hour over the weight of the impending decision you'd have to make and the knowledge that the consequences, both good and bad, would be permanent, and it was up to me to decide what i could live with. I assure you all I have been very normal about it this whole time.

I have not been normal ever since holy FUCK that moment was formative

But like... man. I remember thinking, wow. This game is really small and niche. It's gonna be one of those little things I store in my chest and hold onto forever that I won't get to see outside of my sphere much. When the steam version got announced I was MIND blown and SO excited, because this was my favorite game on the PLANET and suddenly it was not only coming to steam but maybe there would be NEW STUFF like holy SHIT! I can recommend it so much easier!

and fucking. Solstice. Solstice. Hang on I need to readmore if I go on cause this is getting into spoilers but motherfucking solstice I just

This game has meant so much to me and it means the world that. Here it is. Joyous and loud and so very cared for. It's small but beloved and I can't believe we got all the way over here. Oneshot is on every major console now. It has its little virtual machine. I love it so much and it's out there for everyone else to see... I am. So glad.

[Spoilers below the cut— I usually believe they don't matter that much, but Oneshot is one of the very few games I believe deeply needs to be experienced mostly blind the first time so please take care]

When oneshot on steam first released tho like. people who Don't Know, I need you to know that solstice did not exist back then. We had two total clues that it was even a thing— the clock in the Refuge, gradually counting down, and the bolded words on the game steam page. Yall, that was IT. When it first came out, there was no "return to the beginning" or whatever, it was just... the journal. And the tower, helping niko even when he didn't know I was there. Hell, the journal was new to steam and I remember it, you know. How afraid I was. For the world. For Niko. For everything, that first time. Because I loved it, and I wanted things to be as good as I could make it.

And we counted the days until solstice. We wondered. We figured out what day the clock would stop counting on, wondered what the door would do. And then it dropped, and suddenly... suddenly there was the chance for everything to change. Do you know how magical that was? Three years of knowing the choice was always one or the other, even when little things changed, only to be told that maybe... maybe this could be it?

Fuck, guys.

And now we are here again. I never would have dreamed this little game I loved would end up on literal game consoles— but it's so clear to me how much love went into this game port to make it happen. The essence is the same but you gave it just enough that I.... man. Man. I. Never knew a gut punch like 'From Niko'. But it reminds me, you know? This world never died, not really. Not even at first, back then, when it was all or nothing, one or the other. It was always in my heart.

It's in Niko's heart too. And all of yours, who played it. I don't know what else to say or think, really, other than... thank you.

#Blacknovelist talks #oneshot spoilers #oneshot #oneshot (game)#oneshot game #this isn't really anything other than me rambling like a sentimental idiot #i just have a lot of useless thoughts #but... oneshot means the world to me. it's a little cheesy and rather short but it DOES #and seeing it today where it is means so much #so like thank you devs. thank you Eliza and nightmargin. thank you people in the oneshot tag #I'm so so so so so glad i was here when i was and i got to watch where it came from and where it went the way i did #ALSO DON'T AT ME ABOUT THE ERROR IN THE YEAR I SWEAR I CAN COUNT SHUT UP

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feydrautha · 2 years

Note

Do you think Larys didn’t get married to anyone out of choice or is Westeros just that ableist?

I'd say it's both that he doesn't care for it and also because Westerosi society is just that fucked, with a very healthy dash of "If he weren't disabled, he would've already been married" influencing the former — but if Larys weren't disabled, he'd be a wholly different character than the one we know so far.

Yes, Westeros is downright horrible towards people with disabilities, be it people born with a disability (Tyrion, Larys), those who became disabled at a young age (Bran, Varys) or as adults (Jaime, Willas Tyrell, Doran Martell), and it's that first category who endured abuse and dehumanisation from the people around them their entire lives - hell, the Karstarks believe that Bran should have committed suicide instead of spending the rest of his life without being able to use his legs, and we saw how Tyrion was treated by most of his family. Especially with men we see how closely disability is tied to their masculinity, and masculinity in Westeros is focused on a man's ability to fight, with the highest goal being knighthood (also an elevation of status for low-born men but that's another topic). Specifically with regard to sexuality and marriage, while Tyrion as a direct result of his extremely traumatic experience as a youth becomes very hypersexual as an adult, we have Ned lamenting that Bran is never going to be able to father children among other things that define a man in Westeros — which is something I can see Lyonel do, as well-meaning as he would consider having pity for his son and thus not seeing him as a man in the first place.

Harwin embodies just about the ideal of masculinity in Westeros, in stark contrast to his brother, who (like all of the disabled male characters mentioned) is virtually denied manhood, and has done so since birth. I'm a firm believer that Harwin loved his baby brother and might have been one of the very few people who didn't treat Larys like a half-man, and Lyonel is no Tywin, but despite that he still was in a way their "beloved embarrassment", and besides, so what if your family loves you but the rest of the world looks down on you?

So Larys is aware how people see him - as male, but not as a man, because he can't fight, go to war, charge at his enemies and run them through with his sword, etc. And because he is not a 'man', he also can't do the other thing that 'men' typically do, which is fucking and siring heirs. He of course knows he could do that, but everyone else who looks at him and only sees an introverted cripple surely doesn't, women don't show interest in him because of this and if they do it's out of politeness (he does know when they talk behind his back so it's not like he is making it up), so it's not honesty and thus irrelevant.

Of course, he developed a certain superiority complex to protect himself from the harsh world out there. The entire nihilistic speech in S1E6 is all but proof of that, "everyone who has children is just creating his own downfall, I am smarter than that and simply don't do that". There is no one who is worth his companionship because they're all vapid creatures anyway, and none of them is truly special. Marriage is something for 'men', who are also vapid.

In the books, Larys does get betrothed to Floris Baratheon for diplomacy's sake, so I highly doubt this would've been on the table in any shape or form otherwise.

#larys strong #anonymous #asks #house of the dragon

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asteria-argo · 8 months

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📔. ---maybe something about Jamie because I am absolutely feral for how you write him

Okay so Obviosuly I have to talk about my soft apocalypse au, which I've written a flash fic for already here if anyone is interested. But Asteria, I hear you cry, what the fuck even is a soft apocalypse?

SIMPLE, a soft apocalypse is essentially I am a big old baby who doesn't actually like apocalypse media because the inherent violence and cruelty and suffering of it all makes me feel bad inside but does enjoy post apocalypse vibes and aestheticism! So a soft apocalypse is basically the world ending through non violent means, and people coming together in the aftermath to rebuild because I believe in the indomitable human spirit and also that violence is not inherent to humanity and that is a hill I am going to die on.

also this got really long so a majority of it's gonna be under the cut.

ONTO the actual au and also specifically the Jamie of it all. In my head, the world ends due to a bunch of massive natural disasters that lead to the collapse of the world as we know it. For the first few years after this happens, there is a general sense of violence and anarchy that makes surviving difficult and scary. Ted and Beard were in england when it happened at some kind of conference for American football don't ask me the details this is a half thought out plot device. They get stranded in England because travel becomes virtually impossible. This does not stop Ted, who is trying to get back to Michelle. No Henry, because this is happening when everyone is a bit younger than their canon counter parts. What does stop Ted however, is Beard getting gravely injured in their attempts to find a way home. This is how Ted and Beard end up at Nelson Road.

Nelson Road, at the time of Ted and Beards arrival, is essentially Rebecca's fortress. She's there alone, and has been pretty much since the world ended. She tells herself it's best that way, because survival is hard enough when your only looking out for yourself, but then Ted turns up at her doorstep with his injured friend and he's the first genuinely kind person she's met in years. She lets them stay, it's supposed to be temporary, because she doesn't trust them and they still want to get home. It does not end up being temporary. That's a whole other post in itself.

So, Ted, Beard and Rebecca are now holding down the fort of Nelson Road, and unfortunately for Rebecca, now that she's got Ted's bleeding heart on her team there's no way she's getting away without picking up any more strays. And more strays does she get!

They actually find Nate first, who had been camping out in Nelson Road for just as long as Rebecca but stayed completely hidden, which is surprisingly easy to do when your in a big ass football stadium with only one other person. Ted stumbles across him and brings him into the main fold. Next is Roy and Keeley, who have been traveling together for a few years. Roy is looking for his sister, Keeley is just looking for somewhere to be, they run into Ted while they're all scavenging in the ruins of the city and he offers them a place at Nelson Road for as long as they'd like. Rebecca tries to be upset about it, but Keeley worms her way into her heart so quick and Roy ends up being a very useful asset in terms of supply scavenging. More people start appearing who need somewhere to stay, or supplies that Nelson Road has, and eventually Nelson Road has it's own small community that is thriving, helping each other survive and live.

Sam is actually the first member of the team Ted finds, and the key aspect of this au is that the team are children in the apocalypse, born and raised in the end of the world. Sam is the youngest, at about 8 years old. Ted finds him, and Sam is looking for his father who he lost while traveling. Ted takes Sam back to Nelson Road and promises to keep him safe and help him find his father. After Sam, Ted just seems to keep finding kids with nowhere else to go. Colin, Isaac, Jan Maas, Bumbercatch, everybody is eventually at Nelson Road. Ted is the one put in charge of managing the kids since he's the one who keeps finding them, and thats fine by him.

Jamie is one of the last of the team members to be found, and he's actually found by Roy. I've mentioned scavenging a couple of times now, which is pretty self explanatory. It's dangerous, both because it's a lawless land and because most buildings are extremely structurally unsound thanks to earth quakes and general corrosion. It's somewhat necessary though, for crucial supplies like medicine or clothes and such, So, usually the people who do it are the most physically fit of a group. Roy is usually the one who scavenges for Nelson Road, Keeley comes with him sometimes, Ted and Beard do as well.

Jamie, who is about 10 years old in this AU, is a scavenger for his dad. While at this point in time, most people are settled into small communities, Jamie's dad and his friends are not. They travel from place to place with the intention of trading the shit they find to communities in need of supplies for shit that they want. One day, Jamie gets trapped in a building while on a scavenge, and rather than going looking for him or even just waiting a bit longer, James Sr cuts his losses and takes off, leaving Jamie stranded in Richmond. Jamie makes the best of a bad situation, and sets up a little home base in the ruins of a coffee shop. It's not sustainable, but he's 10 years old and doesn't have a better option. One day, while on a scavenge, Roy ends up in Jamie's coffee shop and almost gets knifed by a semi feral 10 year old. Roy drags him back to Nelson Road kicking and screaming, because whats he supposed to do? leave a kid out here to die? no.

Jamie is, to put it lightly, a fucking menace. He wasn't raised in a community like most of the other kids so he's got no frame of reference for how to socialize with them, he doesn't trust any one at Nelson Road as far as he could throw them, and if not for the fact they were providing him with food and shelter, he absolutely would have run the first chance he had. Getting Jamie to stop threatening to stab people with his pocket knife is a Long and drawn out process. It takes a while, but Jamie does eventually settle in at Nelson Road, he starts to make friends and bond with the others and feel a bit more safe. It doesn't come about until they find Dani though.

One of the main rules for the kids at Nelson Road is that they aren't actually allowed to leave the stadium. Most of the kids follow that rule really well, because it is in fact dangerous and scary outside the stadium. Jamie sucks at following this rule, because his frame of reference for dangerous and/scary is extremely warped. This ends up being a good thing though, because one day when Jamie sneaks out, he finds Dani, who is injured and hiding under a half collapsed bridge. Jamie, up until that point, always had a pretty selfish view of survival thanks to that being what his dad taught him and if he had still been with his dad, he probably would have ignored Dani entirely. But he'd been at Nelson Road for a while at that point, and as dumb as he thought the people help people shit they were preaching was, Dani was basically his age, and he was hurt, and Jamie knew that they'd help him.

So, Jamie drags Dani back to Nelson Road with him, uncaring of the fact he will probably get in trouble for sneaking out again after already having been told off for it a few times at that point. They do help Dani, just like Jamie thought they would, and he still gets lectured for sneaking out, but they also tell him that he did the right thing and that they were proud of him for it, and it switches something on in his brain. Also Dani had basically imprinted on him and decided they were best friends now, so Jamie had no choice but to start hanging out with the other kids because Dani is the friendliest guy alive.

I love this au more than life itself but I'll probably never write a longfic for it. Just know I have EVEN MORE thoughts on it stored in my brain if you have any questions.

#asteria answers asks #thenerdlett #soft apocalypse au

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moviesessionwithmyhubby · 11 months

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The phone and The fog

#notamoieexplanation

How does it feel to be in a relationship where you are separated by a considerable distance? Everything is displayed on a screen, whether it be a phone screen, a computer screen, or a laptop screen. Through this screen, all activities are carried out. Every chat, every movie night, every funny meme, every gaming session, every good night song, every virtual kiss. All of it is taking place within just this one screen, one phone.

You know that my spouse and I fell in love with each other before we had ever seen how we looked. We fell in love with one other's spirits and became inseparable. It's possible that you don't believe this to be true, questioning things like how a person can fall in love with another person without ever having physically interacted with that person. When I told one of my friends about my spouse and I, they asked me the exact same question that you are probably asking yourself now. I explained to them that the intellectual connection rather than the physical connection is what I have always sought. I have always been more interested in finding someone who can understand me or is ready to learn to understand me than in finding someone who has a six-pack of abs. I am aware that one's physical appearance is a significant aspect; but, your physical appearance will change over time; what will stay is your spirit and what you have to offer the world. And this is all that matters to me and my husband. You think that it’s lovely to be in a long distance relationship right? Well it is indeed.

But is it hard to be in a long distance relationship? Yes, it is also true. You know why? Because everything takes place behind a screen. And because we are physically separated from one another, we are unable to fully understand how the other person is feeling. They could be feeling unhappy, but it isn't going to come out in the content that they write. They could have a negative mood, but the things they say and the way they say them don't necessarily reveal this.

When you love someone who lives hundreds of miles away and you don't see them very often, it might seem like you're going through a thick fog, and you can't take any risks because you don't know what's in front of you. Even when you have a phone that has a flashlight, it is difficult to see through the fog because the droplets of fog scatter the light. This is how I sometimes feel about long-distance relationships. Not just because I'm afraid that I'll hurt myself if I make even a single mistake, but also because I'm more worried that I'll damage the person I love without even realizing that I'm doing it. Right now I seem to be lost in the center of the fog.

The night before, I arrived home late after attending a gathering with friends; it was approximately 11 o'clock on my end. It was already late, and the movie would take about two hours to watch, so I wanted to get started on it so that we could complete it around one in the morning and I could get some sleep about 1:30 in the morning. Since the movie would take about two hours, I wanted to get started on it as soon as possible. But rather than that, we discussed my get-together, and how this tale might be connected to any other story and how it continued. After we had concluded our conversation, the clock showed that it was after 1 am. My husband wanted to see a portion of the movie since he had been searching for it all day, but I was exhausted because I had been going to bed about 3 am lately and feeling exhausted when I got up the following day. Therefore, I told him that I wanted to keep an eye on my sleeping routine and that we ought to come to an agreement over the time that I spend sleeping. My husband was silent after that. I had the distinct impression that things were going very wrong. When my husband told me that he had been looking forward to seeing a movie tonight all day, I asked him how he was feeling and if he was unhappy since I had told him that we would not be watching a movie today. He assured me that he was not offended and stated that he did feel concerned about my well-being. But despite this, I was able to tell that he was not in a good mood because of the way he was acting, which was not joyful, and because of the way he sang me songs to help me fall asleep. It just had a distinct vibe to it in comparison to the previous times that we had said good night. But given that he said feeling well, I had no choice but to put my faith in what he had to say. At this point, even though I had the impression that something was off, I was unable to see him in person, therefore I had no way of knowing what he was thinking or how he was feeling. I could only keep my hand on the screen of the phone and keep my fingers crossed that he would feel better when we woke up the next morning. And to my utter astonishment, when I woke up this morning there was complete stillness. I tried to get in touch with him, but he didn't pick up the phone when I phoned. Later, he sent me a message stating that he has been uneasy ever since last night, that he has been feeling like I put the responsibility on him for my abnormal sleeping routine, and that he wanted nothing more than to spend some quality time with me in a nice environment. In addition to that, he mentioned that he was not feeling well today and that he believes it would be best to postpone the talk. You know when I got this message, what went through my head, don't you?

First, I had the impression that my sixth sense is very accurate. The things I was thinking and feeling the night before turned out to be correct. The second thing that went through my mind was why didn't he simply tell me he wasn't feeling well despite the fact that I was continually questioning him about it? Thirdly, I despise this phone screen. I despise having long-distance relationships and the fact that there is a four-hour time difference between us. I despise every single thing. And as a last point, after all the work I put in to try to start a conversation regarding his discomfort the night before but getting no reaction, I feel like sobbing, I feel wounded, and I feel like I don't want to communicate anymore. But just like I didn't know how I was genuinely feeling the other night, he doesn't know how I am now feeling in reality. We have been lost in the fog, and the phone with the flashlight that was intended to be our guiding tool has proven to be ineffective in these conditions due to the dense fog. I feel that both my thoughts and my emotions are not at rest. It was proposed by my husband that we put off having the topic for a later time, and I believe that this would be the wisest course of action. I need to settle down, and I shouldn't go to him with a hurricane raging through my head and my emotions.

But just like how fog usually lifts as the sun comes out. The fog will begin to lift as soon as the sun comes up and the temperature of the air and the earth rises. I have faith that the sun will soon rise and shine on me and my husband once more, bringing us back together.

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 2 years

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reading update

hey gamers, happy Pride Month Eve. I don't have any more time to make small talk, I've read so many fucking books since the last time we did this and I need to get started immediately.

what the fuck have I been reading?

The Memory Librarian: And Other Stories of Dirty Computer (Janelle Monáe, 2022) - I don't know if you guys know this about me, but I am... obsessed with Janelle Monáe. Dirty Computer, the album, changed me as a person. I have a bisexual pride flag hanging in my room that I can never wash because she touched it one time. my living room contains more than one decorative cushion with their face on it. a couple of years ago I almost willingly went broke to bid on a pair of the vulva pants from the Pynk music video when Mx. Monáe raffled them off. I love Janelle Monáe in a way that I rarely let myself love artists, and going into this book I really only had one fear: what if Janelle Monáe's book is bad? well, fear not: the book is pretty good, probably because Janelle Monáe was smart enough to hire actual experienced science fiction writers to collaborate and help her build out her world from song and screen to literature. the result is stories that are still sitting heavy in my mind even though it's been approximately a very busy calendar month since I read them, with new meanings crystalizing and arriving all the time. I will freely admit that the collection feel a little uneven in places, but then I'll immediately follow that up by talking about how hard it rips that there's a story about [spoilers] an idyllic little queer refuge from the evil authoritarian government being betrayed by a cis woman because she doesn't trust the AFAB nonbinary member of the crew, and decided that selling out the whole commune to a violent attack would somehow make all the "real" women safer than just letting someone use they/them pronouns in peace. Janelle had some things to say, y'all.

Short Talks (Anne Carson, 1992) - this is going to seem so short after all the rambling I just did for Janelle Monáe but it feels right. literally all I have to say is that I wish all poetry read like this. devoured in one sitting, delighted in every single page of it. Anne Carson, you deserve the hype.

Complaint! (Sara Ahmed, 2021) - I was lucky enough to get to watch Ahmed give a virtual lecture about this book before reading it, and as always her principled feminist rage was a delight to behold. Complaint! details research conducted by Ahmed after leaving her university position due to mishandling of student complaints, talking to other people about their experiences making institutional complaints - about professors, about bosses, about students, about policies that furthered deeply entrenched biases and hierarchies. her results were often disheartening, but Ahmed never gives in to despair. her work affirms injustice's existence but also the validity of raging against it; as someone working in a university setting and frequently unhappy with it, I felt more reinvigorated reading Complaint! than I have in a long time.

Before the Coffee Gets Cold (Toshikazu Kawaguchi, trans. by Geoffrey Trousselot, 2020) - I was really looking forward to this book, which sounded like exactly the sort of cozy, low-stakes fantasy slice of life shit I love. there's a café in Japan where people can have conversations with people from their pasts, but they only have as long is takes for their coffee to cool down - isn't that fun? I was prepared to really love it, and also cry a lot. in the end, I didn't love Before the Coffee Gets Cold as much as I hoped I would - maybe because it was adapted into a novel from a play, and the transition doesn't feel especially smooth? as I've already said on this blog, I would really like an opportunity to see this performed as a stage show if anyone ever does it in English - especially the ghost woman who lives in the café, I want to see that.

Rethinking Sex: A Provocation (Christine Emba, 2022) - oh man you guys, this one was a DOOZY. a friend alerted me to this book's existence months before it was published, and the premise sounded intriguing enough: Emba posits that the simple model of "yes means yes, no means no" isn't a sufficient sexual ethic, and fails to provide a reliable framework for treating sexual partners respectfully beyond obtaining basic consent - and she's right about that! I do agree with Emba on that particular statement; I think current understandings of consent are a very rudimentary baseline and frequently fail to account for the many nuances of human interactions. that is pretty much where Emba and I stop agreeing on almost anything. this book takes some stunningly regressive stances on sexuality in the name of equity, gang. Emba insists that some sexual desires are inherently worse than others, although she conspicuously fails to elucidate on what these might be while suggesting that porn is to blame for normalizing such "risky" kinks as anal sex and polyamory, which hilariously (and sadly) seems to suggest that she isn't clear on the difference between polaymory and group sex. she states in her intro that the book is absolutely meant to be inclusive of gay and trans readers, then goes on to spend a chapter talking about how silly it is to pretend men and women are the same when their innate biological frailty and predisposition to pregnancy makes women inherently more imperiled by sex. she insists that it's unlikely anyone actually enjoys "casual sex," providing choice quotes from interviews that support this stance, and upon encountering a woman who maintains that she did enjoy a shallow sexual relationship pivots to question why a person would even want such a thing in the first place. this book is a hot ass mess, y'all, and while I did take a certain perverse pleasure in sending the yikes-iest segments to a friend to scream in mutual horror, I cannot say I'd actually recommend it.

The Halloween Moon (Joseph Fink, 2021) - hey, one of the Welcome to Night Vale guys wrote a middle readers book and it's really cute. The Halloween Moon has the same unhinged energy as Disney Channel Halloween movies from the nineties and early 2000s - you know, the ones where everything going on was really silly but also holy shit someone might kill that 11 year old for realsies? think Hocus Pocus, that's the right vibe. yeah that was my SHIT as a kid, and remains my shit as a weird adult. if you know a weird kid, I'd strongly recommend passing this along to them.

Batman: The Long Halloween (Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale, 1996) - I didn't mean to read two back-to-back Halloween-ish books in May, it just happened. life is weird that way. anyway yes I DID read this because it was specifically cited as a heavy inspiration for The Batman (2022), no I regret nothing. I've been avoiding Big Two comics for years, but like... fuck. I missed this. this is so fun and dumb. every other page is Batman emotionally taking a deep drag on a cigarette and monologuing about how rancid Gotham City is followed by someone getting murdered on Saint Patrick's Day and having a leprechaun statuette left on their corpse. it's ridiculous it's noir out the ass I loved every second of it. it's perfectly self-contained and I cannot recommend it enough if you don't mind grisly murder. consider yourselves warned that I'm getting back into comics in a big way.

Hench (Natalie Zina Walschots, 2020) - you guys might recall Hench as the winner of my second-ever reading poll, beating out three other books on my TBR. and you know what? you guys were fucking right. Hench is the story of Anna, a temp who does data entry for supervillains - it's a living, you know? until she gets horrifically injured in a fight between her latest boss and a guy who's, uuuh, he's definitely not Superman. don't worry about it. Anna develops a metric to calculate how much property damage and loss of human life superheroes are actually causing - and a huge, HUGE grudge. she finds a new, cooler evil boss and gets to work ruining superheroes' lives, and oh MAN is she good at her job. I don't often pine for sequels, but if one happened to come along for this book I would NOT be disappointed. frankly Anna's boss Leviathan is the monster boyfriend that dreams are made of and I think she deserves a second book purely to try to kiss him on the mandibles. let a bitch live vicariously.

Time Is a Mother (Ocean Vuong, 2022) - one thing about Ocean Vuong is that he's going to reliably fuck me right the fuck up, emotionally, and there was approximately a 0% chance that a poetry collection meditating on the death of his mother wasn't going to be ruinous. what can I say, I was raised by a single mother who currently lives very far away and has complicated health problems that seem to get worse with each passing year! some things are going to set me off! I returned this book to the library before writing down the names of specific poems that got to me, like an idiot, but there's one that's very simple in its devastation: a collection of things Vuong's mother ordered from Amazon, detailed month by month, showing a woman's attempts to continue living a normal life even as her health worsens to the point of preparing for her own funeral. I love a poem that's just a list of shit given meaning, and it took me right out.

Nightmare Alley (William Lindsay Gresham, 1946) - "oh like the Guillermo Del Toro movie" yeah exactly like the Guillermo Del Toro movie, this is the book it was based on. this probably won't shock you if you've seen the movie, but oh my god this is fucked. like, significantly more than the movie, Mr. Del Toro was really sparing our delicate feelings with his adaptation. if you watched Nightmare Alley and said "I just don't think Stan was enough of a fucking freak bastard," oh boy do I have good news for you. also if you watched Nightmare Alley and thought "this is interesting but I wish we devoted a lot more time to Stan developing his career as a phony spiritualist and we got to see him spend several years running a full fucking church while claiming to commune with the dead" hey, we've got that too! Stan spends most of this book running around doing terrible things while Yakkety Sax plays behind him, all the while running an internal monologue about power and manipulation that's truly vile. if you like a book about a wretched guy having just a terrible time (one of my favorite genres, btw) you're gonna love this.

Yoke: My Yoga of Self-Acceptance (Jessamyn Stanley, 2021) - I'll freely admit that I was very hesitant going into this one. Jessamyn Stanley is a very cool yoga instructor who I first learned about in a way that was pretty much "check out this fat Black queer yoga icon!," and I've sort of passively admired her ever since. I was worried that reading her personal essays would be a bit of a case of "don't meet your heroes" - what if she has some stupid ass phony influencer opinions that leaves a sour taste in my mouth about her whole deal? SHOULD NOT HAVE WORRIED. first off, this bitch is a good personal essay writer and funny as hell. secondly, she devotes a good chunk of time to dissecting the burden of being The fat Black yoga icon, the difficulty in unlearning to urge to seek approval from white audiences, and how the necessity of viewership inherently taints and complicated her relationship too her craft. she also has some very real and gorgeous thoughts about the American yoga industry's problem with cultural appropriation, and where she fits into that as a Black instructor teaching a Indian practice. she's inspired me to take another crack at meditation (not easy!!) and has some thoughts on posture and breathing that have really shaken up my whole relationship with yoga for the better.

Cultish: The Language of Fanatacism (Amanda Montell, 2021) - definitely one of my favorite nonfic books I've read this year that isn't an essay collection/memoir. Montell (the daughter of a man raised in the Synanon cult, it bears mentioning) takes an engaging look at the way cults use appealing, exclusive language to bind people and ensnare them, making it difficult to leave. the approach to cults is sharply critical, but Montell looks at cult members with an empathetic eye, reminding readers many times that there's nothing to back up the idea that those who fall into cults are less intelligent or more ignorant than the general population. instead, she examines the ways in which charismatic leaders cleverly use words to present an image of something desirable - and then make it difficult to back out. to me the most interesting part of the book is way Montell draws comparisons between real, well-known cults to groups such as CrossFit, multilevel marketing schemes, and the followers of "wellness" influencers on Instagram. Montell makes clear that she's not accusing, say, Tupperware salespeople of being exactly as harmful as Jim Jones, but that she thinks there are similarities worth examining - and she's right! a smart, easy read; strongly recommend for anyone seeking something curious and fun.

Little Rabbit (Alyssa Songsiridej, 2022) - a book about a relationship, which Sonsiridej herself calls a coming of age story and one of my favorite writers Carmen Maria Machado calls a "horny love letter to bottoming." it is indeed both of those things, and it's very good at both of them! the novel follows a 30 year old writer in her pursuit of a 51 year old choreographer, and the struggle to make sense of their power dynamics once she gets him. what does it mean that he's so much older? that he's divorced from a rich wife and has resources she can't imagine? should she be flattered or affronted that he wants to help her advance her career? does dating an older cishet man mean she's turning her back on her queerness, as her roommate keeps insinuating? what does it mean that he feels uneducated compared to her and her literary friends? and what is our protagonist supposed to do about the fact that she's just discovered she's one hell of a sub? isn't it problematic to want an older man to hurt her? maybe so, but she's enjoying the hell out of it. this is a coming of age story like I've never seen before, but I hope to find a lot more like it because it was simply exquisite.

Portrait of a Thief (Grace D. Li, 2022) - the premise is simple: five Chinese-American college students get hired to heist stolen art out of five Western museums and return it to China. the reward? 10 million dollars each. the stakes? oh my god, astronomical. all of their lives could be absolutely ruined - and it's not a spoiler to say that absolutely nothing goes how they expect it to. a fun and fast-paced book, one that I would definitely recommend for, say, a day of reading on the beach or on an airplane.

#bookblr #reading updates

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