#he announce a song about mass murder and I smile like an Idiot

[13xiii13-13]

Cannibal Corpse Budapest 2023.03.26.

pictures not mine:

#cannibal corpse #I fuckin love this band #corpsegrinder #he announce a song about mass murder and I smile like an Idiot #he left richer with a hungarian flag and handful of plushies #including the pony you could see on the photos #it ended its long journey from metal festival to metal festival #I'm on these pictures somewhere in the mosh #mosh pit #shout out to the ones who wore hawaii t shirt #metalhead

[secret-engima]

Oo! For your Nox verse you mentioned Axis and now I'm all ears for anything you're willing to talk about for the Kingsglaives. Is Axis Nox's assigned guard? Does Noctis have one he's close with like you hinted Arra is for Nox? Does Regis assign *Ardyn* a glaive? It might give more reason for him to interact with Titus? Just what is the Kingsglaive in general's reaction to the chancellor being not that bad actually and basically defecting to Lucis?

(cracks knuckles) Anon. ANON. Kingsglaive are a fav okay? I am always willing to talk about them. ALWAYS. In this AU though, Axis is not actually a glaive. The Kingsglaive was only formed a few months after Nox and Ardyn time-traveled, and Nox met him sometime not long after arriving in the past, so Axis was wandering around taking Hunts to get by. Axis, upon meeting Nox “I’m going to single-handed blow up ALL the Nif’s stuff” Izunia ended up tagging along a few times and then just … never really stopped. Be ends up becoming Nox’s official Shield after Nox is discovered by Regis, but honestly considered himself that well before (because someone has to keep these moron, and his uncle by extension, alive). Nox gets to know the rest of the galahdians through Axis after he’s discovered.

For the rest of the glaives (who are actual glaives in this), Noctis … I don’t think he has a particular favorite? Nox starts dragging Noctis down to the glaive HQ to “train” with them (read: play with them and endear himself to them) so Noctis kinda ends up adopted en masse by these guys (though honestly Tredd might glom onto being Noctis’s buddy/reckless older bro just to spite Axis, because how DARE his buddy in crime get his own LC and not share with Tredd?). Regis assigns the Kingsglaive and the Crownsguard in rotation to guard Ardyn because Chancellor of Niflheim, but Ardyn’s trolling tendency weeds out 98% of the Crownsguard pretty fast (Ardyn: ”It’s not my fault they can’t take a joke!”). Titus, being also Glauca (and secretly Ardyn’s newest minion) tends to volunteer himself after the first five trolling sprees just to keep this moron (who is also somehow his boss, Astrals save him) from driving the entire Citadel nuts.

For your last question. Hmmmm (straps on HC hat) warning this is gonna be LONG:

-Nobody in the glaive is happy when they learn that the Chancellor of Niflheim is a guest (actual guest, not prisoner) in the Citadel. The fact that he’s going to remain a guest for the indefinite future because their King apparently had a kid with the Chancellor’s sister just makes it worse. Nobody is happy and some Potentially Traitorous Things are often mumbled half-heartedly over their alcohol in the first few days when only the Crownsguard are allowed near him (mostly just different ways of calling Regis an idiot, nothing actually harmful or murderous). The glaive however, don’t think the Crownsguard are going to stay Ardyn’s primary keepers for long. Not just because of their general disdain for the organization that prefers to hide behind the Wall rather than fight, but because all of them saw Captain’s face when Ardyn’s arrival was announced. It was the same face he wore the last time the Nifs unleashed a trio of Behemoths onto the field. The one that screamed “Damage Control Inbound” and “This is Going to Become Our Problem and We’re All Collectively Doomed”.

-Then they actually start getting assigned to the man and he’s … nothing like what they were expecting. There is no brilliant tactician, no cunning, poison-tongue politician. No enemy infiltrating their second home using his own nephew as leverage. There’s just a man in tacky clothes and the world’s Dumbest Hat who hides from the irate doctors who insist he needs medical intervention for his weight and general health problems Right Now and only lets Captain or his nephew bully him into eating more than a single meal per day. There’s just an uncle who teases his nephew mercilessly but never lets the boy get lost in his own head (which is too easy for the kid to do, they all recognize the signs of Battle Trauma) and dotes on their crown prince like he’s a long lost nephew rather than the son of the Lucian king.

-There’s just a very, very tired soul who they sometimes find in the Hall of Arts, staring up at the picture of the Founder King and First Oracle with deceptively blank expression and a faintly cracking voice as he sings something Ancient that sounds like a lullaby for all they can’t understand the words, swaying to the melody of his own song like he’ll topple and shatter the moment someone puts pressure on the wrong place.

-Nyx is the first one other than Captain to find him like that, and for all he wants to hate the man who represents Niflheim (represents the empire that burned Galahd and killed his sister), he instead finds himself coaxing Ardyn away from the Hall with gentle words and steady hands, just like he would any of his brother or sister glaives. Nyx mentions it to Captain later, which is how he and the others learn that this isn’t an uncommon occurrence. That they should keep him away from the Hall of Arts if they can.

-It’s the first sign that Ardyn isn’t a vicious leader of monsters playing nice to trick an enemy, but a broken, tired man using his nephew as an excuse to finally escape his glittering cage of “Chancellor”.

-None of them are quite sure what to make of that, so they watch, they listen, they learn. …They get attached. Grudgingly. One prank and melodramatic smile and accidentally witnessed quiet moment at a time. There are a lot of sides to Ardyn Izunia, like the individual fragments of a broken mirror, and somehow the glaives keep being allowed to stumble on them. Somehow they keep getting attached to the shards, one by one and moment by moment without realizing that Ardyn is getting attached in return.

-Until one day, on a good day when Ardyn is wearing his Cheerful, Melodramatic Self and the glaives are hiding their snickers in the corners as they follow him like shadows, two of the King’s Council meet him in the halls. Look down their noses with contemptuous eyes, just like they do the glaives themselves and (in that uniquely flowery way only politicians can) start insulting Ardyn under the guise of casual conversation. They watch, seething despite themselves, as Ardyn takes it, smiles through it, tilts his head like he doesn’t know exactly what they are doing. Libertus finally ducks out of the shadows, bites out some made up excuse of Ardyn’s presence being requested by Cor (the councilmen wouldn’t prevent the Marshal’s orders from being followed and wouldn’t ask him about it later and discover the lie), grinds his teeth when the two councilmen turn their flowery poison on Libertus and the Kingsglaive (the Galahdian refugees) as well. Just like they always do.

-In the middle of taking a step to follow Libertus away, the glaives see Ardyn go still as a painting. See blue eyes sharpen like blades and then-. He turns around in one fluid movement, like it was intentional all along, his easy smile still in place but now dripping an unstated sort of malice that takes the glaive by surprise. They watch, gaping and confused, as Ardyn suddenly transforms into the monster they expected to find those first weeks he arrived in the Citadel, the vaunted Niflheim Chancellor who could ruin people with a smile and a few honeyed words. Where a moment ago he’d been passively taking insults, now Ardyn runs verbal mazes around the two councilmen, ripping them open and stripping them down to their barest, ugliest parts all while never dropping his friendly, polite mien. Somewhere in the “conversation” (massacre), the glaives are pretty sure Ardyn blackmails the two councilmen into supporting a bunch of refugee support programs that, as a technical enemy politician, Ardyn should not know about and they are definitely sure that Ardyn manages to pull it off while simultaneously insulting the two men’s family lines all the way back to the era of the Founder King. By name.

-As he suddenly bids the sputtering councilmen good day and trails along after a wide-eyed Libertus and a long-suffering Captain who arrived somewhere in the verbal massacre, his footsteps silent and predatory when around the glaive he’s always been easy and noisy (to let them know he’s there, to ensure he cannot startle them), the glaive realize that Ardyn is every inch the monster they were expecting. Every centimeter the poisonous, deadly politician they complained about before getting to know him. He just … doesn’t bare his fangs at the people that, by all conventional logic, he should. Somewhere along the way, this Niflheim Chancellor decided that he was more loyal to the line of Lucis and the ragtag refugees called the Kingsglaive than he was his own empire, and that if hiding his claws and acting oblivious around disapproving, snobby nobles was what it took to stay rather than having to return to his own country (his prison), then he would.

-Over drinks, they all agree Ardyn Izunia, former Chancellor of Niflheim, is the scariest person they’ve ever seen. And that they are all really glad he’s on their side.

(hope that satisfies your Ask, Anon! It … spiraled out of my control)

#SE asks #anon asks #Melodies and Manuscripts #Nox verse #Secret Engima Rambles

[christophersymes]

Celebrity Status

Celebrity Status, an ongoing L(G)B(T)+ story also on Wattpad and Quotev. 

Next –>

Prologue: Interview With Jordan Hall

"Alright," talk show host Jordan Hall cleared his throat, taking an excited breath, "I've got to be absolutely honest. I've been nervous about this week's guests ever since I knew who it was going to be." 

He comically rubbed his hands down the sides of his pants. "My hands are clammy, my hair's— tell me the truth, is my hair a mess?" He ran a hand through his coiffed hair.

The audience shouted dissent, then laughed as a few viewers in the front row complimented him.

"Okay, good, good." Jordan grinned, gripping the mic a little harder, posture straightening as he walked across the stage. "I've been bugging my wife all week, blasting their music and trying to hide my hopeless crushes, I've been listening to them for way longer than that, and now I think I've stretched this introduction long enough. Without further fanboying, here's Mason, Austin, Chris, and Andrew, the boys of Nosam!"

The audience drowned out most of Jordan's words, whose noise was liable to render a person temporarily deaf. Behind them, a screen showed clips of the band, Mason shirtless and sweaty, ever the theatrical frontman. Chris and Austin nearby, bass and guitar, making faces at each other, and a shot of long hair momentarily covering Andrew's face from behind a drum set. The boys shook Jordan's hand and sat alongside the host. Jordan had to signal the crowd to quiet down when they showed no signs of stopping.

"Jordan, hi, you're like, my favorite host of all time," Chris said as he sat down between Austin and Andrew, getting a playful flick of the ear from Andrew.

Mason, closest to Jordan, leaned in close, whispering loudly. "He's only saying that because he's a kiss-up."

Jordan laughed, "You say that as if it makes a difference to me. Chris, you're my favorite bassist of all time, and I'm not only saying that because you're the only bassist whose name I know."

Chris laughed, blushing lightly after having gotten up to shove at Mason.

Jordan exhaled, looking at them. "You're all even prettier in person," he breathed wistfully, cueing laughter from everyone. He grinned, leaning forward, "Seriously, you guys are unbelievable. You took over the world so fast, and you've still got conspiracy theorists reeling. Are you aliens? Are you a government-formed group intent on putting a trance on the masses? Is there a Nosam fan cult working to boost publicity and further adding to your talent?"

Mason was leaning forward in his seat, an amused grin slowly growing on his face. Andrew looked mildly disturbed by the words coming out of the host's mouth, Austin was trying not to laugh, and Chris looked like he wanted to Google all of this.

"I don't— I think they don't want us to comment on this..." was Austin's ominous response, trying to hide a smile. Andrew nodded, expression blank.

"We will say this, though," Mason glanced at his bandmates, "we don't think Andrew's human."

Jordan gasped at this, glancing at Andrew. "Andrew? Is this true?"

Andrew met his eyes, staring and not blinking. Jordan moved as if to look away, but kept the eye contact, biting his lip nervously. Someone backstage played a suspenseful piano melody. Andrew cracked a smile that made Jordan laugh.

"I guess that's another theory to look into. So, you guys are about to go on another tour, of course. I've got to say, and I'm sure everyone else agrees, it's impressive how much energy and dedication you have. Every time I look, you guys are performing! Doesn't it get exhausting?"

Mason looked to the others. "Sometimes, yeah, but... I don't know, I guess we're addicted. It's a rush, it's being as close to fans, to people, as possible. Making them smile, feeling that intimacy, that joy. What we were always after was performing, it's our favorite part of being Nosam."

Jordan smiled. "Very lovingly put. That love and passion definitely shows at every one of your concerts. You've recently come up on five years of being together. How's that feel?"

Chris made a face. "You make it sound like we're married."

Mason laughed, pinching the cheek of the closest victim, Austin. "God, I wish, sweetheart." "Not this again," Austin groaned, moving away into Chris, which caused him to knock into Andrew, who pushed at all of them, making everyone crack up.

"As bandmates, it's interesting," Chris announced, pushing away from them and rolling his eyes good-naturedly. "But, really, it's been unbelievable. Going from cover sessions alone in my room with Mason to playing at the O2 and Madison Square Garden and The Forum— tens of thousands of people— it's— it's just more than I— we— could have ever imagined five or even two or three years ago."

Andrew had his head in his hand, leaning on the armrest as he listened to Chris, but he frowned and stared at him as he talked about the venues. "The only place we haven't played is the Bubble Bowl."

Mason wheezed loudly, joined by Austin, Chris, and the audience's equally loud laughter.

It took a second for the penny to drop, and then Jordan laughed and nodded as he responded to Chris' words. "To be honest, some people expected the Nosam hype to die down a while ago."

"But it's only gotten stronger!" Mason grinned, blowing kisses at the crowd.

"Yes, to the point you're being called the biggest boy band in the world— which, I know you guys are a little sensitive to being called a boy band—" Jordan couldn't help but laugh. "Especially with Starlight's endless teasing."

"Did somebody say Stella?" Austin joked, whipping his head towards Jordan.

Mason smirked, "Down, boy, your master's not here, so you can— ow!" He pouted as he got a well-deserved whack in the head from the guitarist.

"That is another very interesting factor in conspiracy theories. How three of you managed to date— and not just date— but fall for all the members of an all-girl band is astounding."

"Even more astounding is that Mr. Frontman is the one left single." Austin grinned mischievously, making Andrew laugh and Mason roll his eyes.

"Ha. Ha. Yes, I'm single." Mason looked to the crowd, winking. "I don't think you guys mind that much, do you?"

The crowd whooped and hollered, some of them wolf-whistling.

Jordan put a hand on Mason's arm. "It's okay, Mason. I'm sure you'll find someone soon."

"Aw, come on. Why're you guys bashing being single? Nothing wrong with it. And I get to enjoy the company of many lovely ladies. I'm charming and sociable by birth."

Jordan chuckled at that, shaking his head. "You've got a point. I do believe you on that. Oh, to be young and as incredibly attractive as you, Mason!" He put a hand to his chest, looking up to the ceiling.

Mason pouted, pointing a finger at him and getting up to hug him, "Oh, Jordan, don't do that. You're a beautiful man."

"Stop it, Mason, I'm starting to rethink my entire marriage with you holding me like this."

The audience loved that, and they cheered for everyone to give Jordan a group hug. Jordan happily drowned under the boys, making sure to remind the camera that he loved his wife, but he wouldn't mind sharing. When they finally let him go, Jordan was still smiling. "Regardless, Mason, everyone finds it hard to believe you won't find someone to tie you down." "On the contrary, I'm usually the one doing the tying." Mason wiggled his eyebrows as they sat down. "I'm not easily tamed."

"We'll see about that," Jordan grinned, motioning for the boys to follow. "I've got a game I'd like to play with you guys, it's sort of a dating game— Austin, feel free to opt out, I don't really want to get you murdered..."

Austin blushed, but actually seemed to consider it before saying, "Don't be ridiculous, Jordan."

Jules giggled at something Austin said in the interview, leaning against his twin, Rosaline's shoulder. "God. I fucking love them so much."

Rosa laughed, shoving back at him. "I know you do, dumbass. Your entire fucking life revolves around them!"

Jules scoffed. "Does not. I have a job. And school."

"And the fansite, and Nosam, and your love for Austin, and your irrational hatred for Mason–"

"I don't hate him," Jules groaned. She always said he hated Mason. He didn't hate any of them! "He's just an asshole sometimes. And he's so easy to pick on, Rose. He's a bigger whore than you!"

Rosa faked being offended, laughing a little. "No one is a bigger whore than me! Hear that? No one!"

Jules stared at her in amusement, then shook his head. "You're an enigma, Rosie."

"What did you just call me?"

"...An enigma?"

Rosaline jumped on Jules, dislodging the laptop as she tried to hit his head in retaliation for calling her Rosie. He laughed, just yelling the nickname instead, tackling her back onto the bed.

The fight ceased after she shoved a pillow over his face, and Jules laughed into it, kicking her lightly on the chest. She fell down next to him, sighing heavily. Jules pulled the pillow off his face and shoved it under his head, turning to look at her. The talk show was still playing in the background, but they'd both seen it twice already. By now, Mason was being an idiot and flirting with Jordan all over again, singing some song to him to seduce him.

Rosa looked over at Jules. "Hey, I've got a question."

"Yeah? You're my fucking twin, just spit it out."

"How come you're still at home putting up with Mom? It doesn't make sense, Julesy. She treats you like shit, and so does Derek half the time. At least with him, I understand it, he's twelve, he's rotten. But Mom..."

"I'm her kid," Jules sighed. He shrugged a little. "What she said earlier... It's just her still coming to terms. She's being pretty shitty, yeah, considering it's been about five years, but I expect it this time of month anyway. It's when the bill usually comes."

Rosa sighed. "But she's our mom. Shouldn't she love us all the same?"

Jules rolled his eyes, smiling at Rosa. "I'm sure she does. She just... doesn't show it the same. I'm fine, Rosa, I'm over it again. It's easier lately."

But that was a lie. Nothing was easier lately. He was finishing up school, soon to be a graduated music student, with no fucking idea what he'd do with his life beyond waiting tables. Maybe with his psych minor he could do some kind of music therapy, but... Even then, he'd want out of Michigan and far away from his mom and her transphobic, snippy remarks on his gender, the monthly bills from the hospital from five years ago, how he was never home to help his brother learn guitar, how he was totally unexpected when he came out just after Rosa in birth...

"I know when you're lying, baby brother," Rosa said quietly. She smiled softly at him, then kissed his forehead as she leaned up to grab the laptop again. "Hey, dude, isn't there a new interview coming out in a bit?"

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #lgbt stories #trans stories #celebritystatus

[nosamlight]

prologue

“Alright,” talk show host Jordan Hall cleared his throat, taking an excited breath, “I’ve got to be absolutely honest. I’ve been nervous about this week’s guests ever since I knew who it was going to be.”

He comically rubbed his hands down the sides of his pants. “My hands are clammy, my hair’s— tell me the truth, is my hair a mess?” He ran a hand through his coiffed hair.

The audience shouted dissent, then laughed as a few viewers in the front row complimented him.

“Okay, good, good.” Jordan grinned, gripping the mic a little harder, posture straightening as he walked across the stage.  “I’ve been bugging my wife all week, blasting their music and trying to hide my hopeless crushes, I’ve been listening to them for way longer than that, and now I think I’ve stretched this introduction long enough. Without further fanboying, here’s Mason, Austin, Chris, and Andrew, the boys of Nosam!”

The audience drowned out most of Jordan’s words,  whose noise was liable to render a person temporarily deaf. Behind them, a screen showed clips of the band, Mason shirtless and sweaty, ever the theatrical frontman. Chris and Austin nearby, bass and guitar, making faces at each other, and a shot of long hair momentarily covering Andrew’s face from behind a drum set. The boys shook Jordan’s hand and sat alongside the host. Jordan had to signal the crowd to quiet down when they showed no signs of stopping.

“Jordan, hi, you’re like, my favorite host of all time,” Chris said as he sat down between Austin and Andrew, getting a playful flick of the ear from Andrew.

Mason, closest to Jordan, leaned in close, whispering loudly. “He’s only saying that because he’s a kiss-up.”

Jordan laughed, “You say that as if it makes a difference to me. Chris, you’re my favorite bassist of all time, and I’m not only saying that because you’re the only bassist whose name I know.”

Chris laughed, blushing lightly after having gotten up to shove at Mason.

Jordan exhaled, looking at them. “You’re all even prettier in person,” he breathed wistfully, cueing laughter from everyone. He grinned, leaning forward, “Seriously, you guys are unbelievable. You took over the world so fast, and you’ve still got conspiracy theorists reeling. Are you aliens? Are you a government-formed group intent on putting a trance on the masses? Is there a Nosam fan cult working to boost publicity and further adding to your talent?”

Mason was leaning forward in his seat, an amused grin slowly growing on his face. Andrew looked mildly disturbed by the words coming out of the host’s mouth, Austin was trying not to laugh, and Chris looked like he wanted to Google all of this.

“I don’t— I think they don’t want us to comment on this...” was Austin’s ominous response, trying to hide a smile. Andrew nodded, expression blank.

“We will say this, though,” Mason glanced at his bandmates, “we don’t think Andrew’s human.”

Jordan gasped at this, glancing at Andrew. “Andrew? Is this true?”

Andrew met his eyes, staring and not blinking. Jordan moved as if to look away, but kept the eye contact, biting his lip nervously. Someone backstage played a suspenseful piano melody. Andrew cracked a smile that made Jordan laugh.

“I guess that’s another theory to look into. So, you guys are about to go on another tour, of course. I’ve got to say, and I’m sure everyone else agrees, it’s impressive how much energy and dedication you have. Every time I look, you guys are performing! Doesn’t it get exhausting?”

Mason looked to the others. “Sometimes, yeah, but… I don’t know, I guess we’re addicted. It’s a rush, it’s being as close to fans, to people, as possible. Making them smile, feeling that intimacy, that joy. What we were always after was performing, it’s our favorite part of being Nosam.”

Jordan smiled. “Very lovingly put. That love and passion definitely shows at every one of your concerts. You’ve recently come up on five years of being together. How’s that feel?”

Chris made a face. “You make it sound like we’re married.”

Mason laughed, pinching the cheek of the closest victim, Austin. “God, I wish, sweetheart.” “Not this again,” Austin groaned, moving away into Chris, which caused him to knock into Andrew, who pushed at all of them, making everyone crack up.

“As bandmates, it’s interesting,” Chris announced, pushing away from them and rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “But, really, it’s been unbelievable. Going from cover sessions alone in my room with Mason to playing at the O2 and Madison Square Garden and The Forum— tens of thousands of people— it’s— it’s just more than I— we— could have ever imagined five or even two or three years ago.”

Andrew had his head in his hand, leaning on the armrest as he listened to Chris, but he frowned and stared at him as he talked about the venues. “The only place we haven’t played is the Bubble Bowl.”

Mason wheezed loudly, joined by Austin, Chris, and the audience’s equally loud laughter.

It took a second for the penny to drop, and then Jordan laughed and nodded as he responded to Chris’ words. “To be honest, some people expected the Nosam hype to die down a while ago.”

“But it’s only gotten stronger!” Mason grinned, blowing kisses at the crowd.

“Yes, to the point you’re being called the biggest boy band in the world— which, I know you guys are a little sensitive to being called a boy band—” Jordan couldn’t help but laugh. “Especially with Starlight’s endless teasing.”

“Did somebody say Stella?” Austin joked, whipping his head towards Jordan.

Mason smirked, “Down, boy, your master’s not here, so you can— ow!” He pouted as he got a well-deserved whack in the head from the guitarist.  

“That is another very interesting factor in conspiracy theories. How three of you managed to date— and not just date— but fall for all the members of an all-girl band is astounding.”

“Even more astounding is that Mr. Frontman is the one left single.” Austin grinned mischievously, making Andrew laugh and Mason roll his eyes.

“Ha. Ha. Yes, I’m single.” Mason looked to the crowd, winking. “I don’t think you guys mind that much, do you?”

The crowd whooped and hollered, some of them wolf-whistling.

Jordan put a hand on Mason’s arm. “It’s okay, Mason. I’m sure you’ll find someone soon.”

“Aw, come on. Why’re you guys bashing being single? Nothing wrong with it. And I get to enjoy the company of many lovely ladies. I’m charming and sociable by birth.”

Jordan chuckled at that, shaking his head. “You’ve got a point. I do believe you on that. Oh, to be young and as incredibly attractive as you, Mason!” He put a hand to his chest, looking up to the ceiling.

Mason pouted, pointing a finger at him and getting up to hug him, “Oh, Jordan, don’t do that. You’re a beautiful man.”

“Stop it, Mason, I’m starting to rethink my entire marriage with you holding me like this.”

The audience loved that, and they cheered for everyone to give Jordan a group hug. Jordan happily drowned under the boys, making sure to remind the camera that he loved his wife, but he wouldn’t mind sharing. When they finally let him go, Jordan was still smiling. “Regardless, Mason, everyone finds it hard to believe you won’t find someone to tie you down.” “On the contrary, I’m usually the one doing the tying.” Mason wiggled his eyebrows as they sat down. “I’m not easily tamed.”

“We’ll see about that,” Jordan grinned, motioning for the boys to follow. “I’ve got a game I’d like to play with you guys, it’s sort of a dating game— Austin, feel free to opt out, I don’t really want to get you murdered…”

Austin blushed, but actually seemed to consider it before saying, “Don’t be ridiculous, Jordan.”

Jules giggled at something Austin said in the interview, leaning against his twin, Rosaline’s shoulder. “God. I fucking love them so much.”

Rosa laughed, shoving back at him. “I know you do, dumbass. Your entire fucking life revolves around them!”

Jules scoffed. “Does not. I have a job. And school.”

“And the fansite, and Nosam, and your love for Austin, and your irrational hatred for Mason--”

“I don’t hate him,” Jules groaned. She always said he hated Mason. He didn’t hate any of them! “He’s just an asshole sometimes. And he’s so easy to pick on, Rose. He’s a bigger whore than you!”

Rosa faked being offended, laughing a little. “No one is a bigger whore than me! Hear that? No one!”

Jules stared at her in amusement, then shook his head. “You’re an enigma, Rosie.”

“What did you just call me?”

“...An enigma?”

Rosaline jumped on Jules, dislodging the laptop as she tried to hit his head in retaliation for calling her Rosie. He laughed, just yelling the nickname instead, tackling her back onto the bed.

The fight ceased after she shoved a pillow over his face, and Jules laughed into it, kicking her lightly on the chest. She fell down next to him, sighing heavily. Jules pulled the pillow off his face and shoved it under his head, turning to look at her. The talk show was still playing in the background, but they’d both seen it twice already. By now, Mason was being an idiot and flirting with Jordan all over again, singing some song to him to seduce him.

Rosa looked over at Jules. “Hey, I’ve got a question.”

“Yeah? You’re my fucking twin, just spit it out.” 

“How come you’re still at home putting up with Mom? It doesn’t make sense, Julesy. She treats you like shit, and so does Derek half the time. At least with him, I understand it, he’s twelve, he’s rotten. But Mom…”

“I’m her kid,” Jules sighed. He shrugged a little. “What she said earlier… It’s just her still coming to terms. She’s being pretty shitty, yeah, considering it’s been about five years, but I expect it this time of month anyway. It’s when the bill usually comes.” 

Rosa sighed. “But she’s our mom. Shouldn’t she love us all the same?”

Jules rolled his eyes, smiling at Rosa. “I’m sure she does. She just… doesn’t show it the same. I’m fine, Rosa, I’m over it again. It’s easier lately.” 

But that was a lie. Nothing was easier lately. He was finishing up school, soon to be a graduated music student, with no fucking idea what he’d do with his life beyond waiting tables. Maybe with his psych minor he could do some kind of music therapy, but… Even then, he’d want out of Michigan and far away from his mom and her transphobic, snippy remarks on his gender, the monthly bills from the hospital from five years ago, how he was never home to help his brother learn guitar, how he was totally unexpected when he came out just after Rosa in birth… 

“I know when you’re lying, baby brother,” Rosa said quietly. She smiled softly at him, then kissed his forehead as she leaned up to grab the laptop again. “Hey, dude, isn’t there a new interview coming out in a bit?”

prologue | chapter one 

#prologue #nosamlight #story

[hitsuhinalover]

Hitsuhina month 2018 & 30 days OTP challenge

Day 9: Teaching each other something

A/N: Day 9 completed!!! This isn't an angsty fic, don't worry :)

Disclaimer: The fact that I don't own Bleach won't change...can I stop writing these disclaimers?

Relax and have fun

Gradually, the white-haired captain moved his nose closer and closer to the paper lying on the desk, until the sharp pain in his neck snatched him back up. Cursing, he massaged his neck and glared at the huge stack of papers. He didn't have time for something as stupid and trivial as neck pain! Every time he was engrossed in his work, pain interrupted him by forcing him to move his position. Now, however, it stayed there, no matter how hard Hitsugaya massed his neck and rolled his shoulders. What's more, his head had started aching, too. He couldn't massage both his shoulders, neck and temples while trying to get work done!

“Are you okay?” a worried voice asked, making Hitsugaya startle. Hinamori was looking at him, her head tilted and her lower lip between her teeth.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Hitsugaya replied, opting to massage his temples. “I've just got a lot of work to do, and my head and neck are aching...”

Only a couple of seconds later Hinamori announced, “I'm kidnapping you.”

“What?!” Hitsugaya demanded, hands dropping from his temples as he stared at her, mouth agape.

“You obviously don't know how to relax, so I'm guessing you didn't go through the mandatory course about taking care of your well-being,” Hinamori stated with a sigh that soon turned into a broad smile. “That's why I'm now teaching you everything we've learned!” Before he had time to reply, she dragged him up. “Lesson number one: Take regular breaks! Starting right now!”

“I've got work to do,” Hitsugaya objected. “I can't just leave my office!”

“I'm telling Captain Unohana you skipped the course,” Hinamori warned.

A shudder. “You wouldn't.”

“If you now learn everything we did, there's no harm done!” Hinamori explained. “Lesson number two!” she yelled as Matsumoto stepped into the office. “Don't do everything by yourself!” When they left the office, Matsumoto had arms full of paperwork and a sullen expression.

“Sport!” Hinamori yelled, dragging Hitsugaya towards the training grounds. He sighed from relief. At least he could do something productive. However, his expression changed to match her lieutenant's when Hinamori turned the direction and said, “Never mind, you already practice daily with your sword.”

When Hinamori opened the door, the sunlight hit Hitsugaya so hard he had to squint and try to shadow his eyes with his hand. Including the chirping of birds, his headache didn't alleviate at all.

“Lesson number four!” Hinamori announced as they walked forwards. “Go for a walk and enjoy sunlight!”

“I don't like sunlight,” Hitsugaya complained. “It doesn't ease my headache at all and sunny days are often too hot for me.”

“Your headache will soon ease, now that you aren't in your office anymore,” Hinamori promised. “Moreover, we've to buy something.”

Hitsugaya frowned. “What do we have to buy?”

“It's a surprise! In the meantime, we can move on to the lesson number five,” the dark-haired Soul Reaper decided. “Talking with a friend!”

“I'm talking to you right now,” Hitsugaya sighed. “Is it enough?”

For awhile, the white-haired captain didn't hear anything but birds chirping and him walking. With a glance, he noticed his childhood friend was no longer next to him. He stopped and turned to look at the girl who stood a couple of meters behind. “Hinamori?”

“I...I thought you would say 'I don't have any friends' or something similar,” Hinamori sniffled, rubbing her eyes. Judging by the way a small smile flickered on her lips and her cheeks were colored light pink, she obviously knew she was being a little bit too emotional – but she couldn't help it.

“Idiot.” Despite the harshness of the word, his tone was gentle. He walked to her and stretched his arm to be able to pat her head. “I do consider you my friend. I...” he hesitated before sighing and continuing. “I know I can sometimes seem harsh and cold, but I do appreciate our friendship, I really do.” He cast his eyes down. “I'm sorry if you didn't know it.”

Her laugh raised his head back up. “Of course I knew it! Usually, you just don't say it aloud, so I guess I got surprised.”

“I'm sorry,” Hitsugaya mumbled. She shook her head and replied, “Don't be. I prefer a friend who shows his friendship with his deeds to one who does it only with his words.”

“Still, I guess I could say it more often,” Hitsuagaya insisted. “But don't think I'll be singing songs about our great friendship from now on!” he warned her with a glare.

“You wouldn't be you if you did,” Hinamori laughed. Walking again side by side, they reached their destination: a stall that sold watermelons.

……...

“Doesn't this look good?” Hinamori asked, turning one green fruit in her hands.

Hitsugaya shook his head. “You should pick one that has some yellow color,” he advised. Picking up one he deemed decent, he said, “Like this one, for example.” Looking from his face of approval to his miserable yellowish fruit to her green beauty, she sighed and put her treasure down. “Shall we take it then?”

Her companion nodded. “But what do we need a watermelon for?” he wondered as they made their way towards the rooms of the 5th Division.

“We'll eat it, of course!” As a reply, she got a glare. “If you had planned to do anything else with it, you would have been disappointed,” Hitsugaya said and protectively hugged the watermelon against his chest. “I was asking how eating watermelon is related to your course.”

“Well, you'll be outside spending time with your friend,” Hinamori said as she disappeared into her kitchen and came back with a knife that they could cut the watermelon with. “But it's also related to the lesson number six: eating healthy!”

“Of course, eating healthy doesn't mean you can eat watermelon all the time,” the dark-haired lieutenant explained as she looked at how her friend sliced the fruit. “It means you consume a variety of foods and eat often enough.”

“It was one time,” Hitsugaya muttered, his eyes on the fruit.

“It was one time I got to know you hadn't eaten anything in the whole day,” Hinamori corrected him. “Hasn't it happened before?”

“There you go,” Hitsugaya said and offered a slice to Hinamori. She sighed, took it with thanks and let the topic slide. Chewing her slice, she looked at how he munched his and spit the black seeds away.

“How are you able to spit them so far?” Hinamori asked, curious. She took a bite, ate it and spit the seeds as far as she could – and they ended up on her chin. Hitsuagay chuckled at her poor attempt and miserable expression.

“If you haven't had any practice, you can't just spit them,” Hitsuagay explained, still laughing. Hinamori frowned confused. “What do you mean?”

“First, you've to check no one's nearby,” Hitsugaya told and turned his head left and right. Since it was a sunny day, most of the Soul Reapers off duty had hurried to the beach to enjoy the last days of summer. No one had found their way to the childhood friends’ secret spot, far away from the main paths.

“Why?” Hinamori asked, even more confused, but obliged him anyway.

A grin. “Because you're going to look stupid while practicing.”

………..

“You've to move your head more,” Hitsugaya tried to tell her, but he was laughing too hard that the words would be comprehensive. Every time Hinamori spat a seed, it ended up in her lap – which was actually progress, considering her first twenty attempts had ended up on her face.

Hitsugaya had bent his body a little bit forwards and moved his hand over his mouth to stop more chuckles escaping. His eyes almost closed, he shook his head at Hinamori who was still spitting the seeds all over herself.

It had been a long time since Hinamori had seen him as happy as now.

“Laughing,” the female Soul Reaper suddenly said. Hitsugaya straightened, looking at Hinamori with a small, confused frown. “What?

“Number seven,” Hinamori explained, sorry for having cut off Hitsugaya's carefree laugh. A moment later, she leaned closer and spat a seed on Hitsugaya, who got a murderous look in his eyes.

“I'm sorry! I'm sorry!” Hinamori repeated over and over again as she tried to block the seeds he spat in her direction. However, neither the offense nor the defense was very strong, since both of them were laughing hard.

……….

As they stopped in front of Hitsugaya's room, the white-haired Soul Reaper finally broke the silence. “Thank you for today.” Not only had all the pain disappeared, but it was also replaced by tranquility. “It was...it was the most relaxing day I've had for a long time,” he confessed.

Hinamori responded to his smile with one of her own, happy to have been able to help him. Moreover, she had had fun, too. Seconds passed as they only stood there, staring and smiling at each other. Finally, Hinamori's brain caught on how close they were standing and, without any kind of amiable advance warning, her cheeks flushed red and she stumbled a couple of steps backwards, gaze darting back and forth. Hitsugaya raised his eyebrows, but Hinamori only screamed, “A good night's sleep! Number eight!” and ran away, leaving the white-haired Soul Reaper stare confused after her.

#hitsuhina fic #toshiro hitsugaya #momo hinamori #hitsuhina #hitsuhinamonth2018 #keeping the hitsuhina tag strong #30 days otp challenge

[ladysaruka]

A Night to Remember...Unfortunately.

Here is the charity fanfic for the most excellent @mollyraesly who requested Jon x Sansa! I hope you like it! Thank you so much for donating.

Sansa had to hand it to Jon; many beers into open mike night and he was committing to the chorus of Wonderwall, in all his guitar strumming glory.

“I…I have to go home with that,” she whispered, unable to pry her eyes away the current train wreck that was her boyfriend.

“Well, that’s your own damn fault,” Robb tutted unsympathetically, phone out and recording.

“You, very literally, made your bed” Arya said while flicking her fingers across her screen for maximum zoom. “Now you lay in it.”

Jon finished with a flourish and stalked off the stage, handing back the acoustic guitar back to the slightly more serious artist he had briefly stolen it from. He rejoined them—looking smug of all things.

Quite the turn around from the man who groaned, long and loud, when they walked in and saw the microphone and spare bar stool set up in the corner of the bar. Of course, Jon didn’t plan to perform, something he usually actively avoided. But they were out with Robb and Arya, who could convince Jon to do damn near anything, especially as the night wore on and the three of them had more and more to drink.

“Did ya see me out there?” Jon said with a satisfied grin.

“Oh, did we ever.”

“Poetry for the eye and ear, Snow.”

“Would you like some water, sweetie?” Sansa offered gently.

Jon waved her off. “Nah, beer’s fine for me.”

“Need to hydrate after all,” Robb said encouragingly.

“I do?” said Jon, looking very befuddled and cradling his beer.

Arya, grinning right beside him, added, “We await your encore.”

“You do?”

“Breathlessly.”

“Which makes it such a damn shame, but we need to go home,” Sansa interrupted, visions of embarrassment dancing through her head as she grabbed her man’s hand. “Like, right now.”

“But you’re our desig-designated driver,” Robb pouted, stumbling over the syllables.

Shooting her brother a look, Sansa huffed, “I think you lost the right to a free ride.” She then turned her gaze to her little sister. “And seeing how somebody is still a few months shy of legal, and shouldn’t be drinking at all, you should have the facilities to call a cab.”

“We’re leaving?” Jon said, just now realizing this fact and immediately joining Robb in pouting. “We just got here!”

“Jon, it’s past mignight,” Sansa said tersely.  

“Aw man.”

Thankfully Jon wasn’t so forgone that he couldn’t walk, so with some gentle herding, she got him in the car, home, and even in pajamas, all without incident. Actually getting into bed, however, was where Sansa’s luck began to run out.

“God, you’re hot,” Jon mumbled.

“Aren’t you sweet,” Sansa said distractedly as she put a glass of water in one hand and some ibuprofen in the other.

“It’s just—” Jon paused to swallow the pills—“How? You are so out of my league.”

“You’re a good guy,” Sansa said, feeling a bit charmed, despite Jon currently being a drunken pain in the neck. She gave him a gentle shove to settle him into the pillows.

“But you’re really hot,” Jon protested, looking very concerned and not lying down at all.

“You can tell me all about it tomorrow.” Another shove, this time with a bit more force and he laid back onto the bed.

The very worried look didn’t leave his face as he watched Sansa climb in on her side, but he said no more, and was asleep in minutes.

***

Sansa never did like sleeping in on the weekends. It always just enough of a schedule change to throw her off come Monday. Ghost needed to go out first thing in the morning, anyway.

So, leaving Jon in the bedroom, Sansa took Ghost out for a short walk and then went to make herself breakfast. She was looking forward to a lazy Saturday at home, never changing out her comfy clothes, loafing around, cuddling her dog, watching tv, or reading a romance novel while her boyfriend, inevitably, whined and whimpered his way though a hangover.

There was a knock on the door, just as she was sitting down to eggs and toast. Sansa was going to just pretend to not be home to answer when her phone buzzed with a text from Robb, announcing himself.

“What are you doing here so early?” Sansa huffed, but let Robb, and Arya quick on his heels, inside.

Robb made great show of being hurt as Ghost greeted them, tail a-wagging. “Do I need a reason to see my own sister and bestest of friends?”

“Who are both conveniently located in the same apartment?” Arya added.

“Exactly!”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “After the night you had I’m surprised you’re up this early.”

“Compared to Jon I barely touched the stuff.” Robb looked about. “Speaking of which where is he? Still sleeping it off?”

Not waiting for an answer, Robb went back the bedroom, a sniggering Arya behind him.

“What are you doing?” Sansa had just sat back down, under the mistaken assumption that her siblings were actually going to talk to her. Her breakfast was getting cold. “Leave him alone!”

Before she could move from the table once again she was interrupted by—

“BECAUSE MAAAAAAYBEEEEEEE YOU’RE GONNA BE THE ONE THAT SAVES MEEEEEE”

Jon’s last night performance, in all it’s recorded glory.

“Oh lord…”

“AND AFTERAAAAAALLLLL YOU’RE MY WONDERWAAAAAALLLL.”

In stereo, even.

A great, lumbering mass came from the bedroom. It was Jon, wrapped up in their bed’s comforter and looking like someone’s babushka grandmother from the Old Country. Robb and Arya, phones held high, followed after him, gleeful. Jon looked rightfully victimized.

“Sansaaaa…. make them stop,” Jon said hoarsely.

“I SAID MAAAAAAAAAAYBBBBEEEEE”

“Cut it out you two,” Sansa snapped as she guided Jon to a chair.

He immediately slumped over. And then his head kept falling downwards, flopping on the tabletop, the comforter folding over his head like a floral hoodie. Sansa discretely tugged her eggs out the way of some excess fabric.

Robb sat down opposite of him, thankfully putting his phone away. Arya had propped herself up on the countertop.

“If you thought we were going to forget out this…”

With a comforting arm around the lump that was her boyfriend, Sansa shot her brother a murderous glare. “This was not necessary, and you know it.”

Robb managed to look contrite. “I know, I know, but it was so damn funny, Sansa. And since you and Jon actually got serious, he hasn’t made a jackass of himself over you in forever. I miss that entertainment.”

“Jon wasn’t making a jackass of himself—at least over me—last night!”

“Oh come on,” Arya said with a snort. “He so happens to get onstage after that hipster chatted you up for, like, ten minutes? And jacks the guy’s guitar to do it?”

“That guy wasn’t ‘chatting me up’ we were just talking. I was out with my boyfriend, my big brother and my little sister, for goodness’ sake.”

Arya rolled her eyes. “Yeah, talking about his music and what inspires him.”

“Beauty is what inspires me” Robb imitated in a pompous voice.

“Stringy-looking fucker,” the comforter grumbled. “Couldn’t even grow a proper beard”

“It was a weak beard” Arya agreed.

“Wait, I was there, I saw you guys encourage him.”

“Not saying we didn’t,” Robb said and held up hands in no contest. “But that idiot definitely set it off.”

“Alright, you know what,” Sansa said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Get out, both of you. You’ve had your fun, you’ve made Jon all grumpy. Leave and let me try and get him back into bed.”

“Can we have some breakfast too?”

“Arya, if you and Robb don’t get out right now, the breakfast I’ll be giving you will be served up on a plate aimed at your heads.”

“Okay, okay, were leaving, yesh.”

***

It was a very quiet Jon that came out of the bedroom five hours later. Joining her and Ghost on the couch, he asked solemnly, “How big of a fool did I make of myself?”

“How do you want the news, with numbers or literary examples?”

“Plain numbers, please.”

“A solid four.”

“Just a four, really?”

“Aw, come on Jon” Sansa said, wrapping an arm around him. “You only over-enthusiastically sang a song. And I always said you have a nice voice.”

Jon just held his head in his hands and groaned.

“You didn’t even punch someone,” she continued cheerfully. “Not like that one time you punched Harry.”

“I was defending your honor.”

“My honor is not worth the nasty broken nose you got out of it.”

“It most certainly was,” Jon replied curtly.

Sansa decided to let the topic drop. She wasn’t in the mood to get into that old argument.

“Only thing that bothers me, was that you were apparently jealous. Am I not allowed to talk to other guys now?”

“What? No of course not, don’t be ridiculous,” Jon said and fell back into the couch.

“It’s just…” he mumbled. “There are times when it’s so clear to see that you could have done so much better than me. I’m not the kind of guy you went for.”

“Yeah, but—”

“And how I thought I dressed all right enough, until you started dressing me, and I started getting more callbacks from interviews.”

Sansa smiled at that. “Look good and feel good in what you’re wearing, and people do notice.”

“Well I know that now, but I remember laughing about it with Robb and Arya.”

“That went away as soon as they had someone they wanted to impress,” Sansa said, which made Jon laughed, if only a little before returning to frowning at himself.

“Remember that guy you punched?” she said, cuddling in close to Jon, who nodded. “Remember why?”

“He was yelling at you, in public, and saying horrible things to you, and I could see you shrinking back and… it just got to me.”

“Well, he was yelling at me because I caught him cheating, and by some gaslighting of the patriarchy, he was actually making me feel bad and blame myself. And before that it was Joffery, who was his own tier of terrible. And yes, those were the type of guys that I, for whatever misguided reason, went after: Looked great, treated me bad.”

Thinking about her old boyfriends made Sansa relish this moment with Jon all the more. True, Jon at this point could do with a shower, but it could wait a little longer.  It didn’t take away from how warm and solid he felt holding her, how safe she was at this exact moment. For however stupid the reason was, if the extent of Jon’s jealous behavior was karaoke, she would gladly take it.

“Any day of the week, I would much rather have you— kind, considerate, and handsome to boot.” She gave him another squeeze. “Plus, I get the super fun project of dressing up all that handsome to look like an actual human being.”

Jon was finally smiling. “That last jab aside, all that flattery makes me wanna make out on the couch.”

Sansa paused, and drew away a little bit.

“I’m usually into that, but you have’t brushed your teeth in, like, over twenty-four hours.”

***

Sansa was having a very peaceful Sunday organizing her craft things when Arya called. Which should have served as warning enough of some oncoming trouble, as her sister preferred to communicate through monosyllabic texts unless absolutely necessary.

“Hello, how are y—”

“-Okay so something has happened and I need you to help me tell Jon so he doesn’t kill me.”

“What happened, are you alright?”

“I’m not hurt or anything, calm down.”

Sansa could hear her sister roll her eyes.

“Wait, why would Jon want to kill you,” she asked, going back to arranging her colored pencils chromatically now that she knew that Area wasn’t bleeding out or anything. “Don’t tell Robb, cause he’ll be a baby about it, but you’re totally his favorite.”

“Well, I was working on my mix media project with Gendry and wanted to show him the video—“

“Even though we asked you guys not to?” Sansa tutted. It seemed her strong worded texts had been for nought.

“Andweweretryingtomakesureourprojectwouldloadand—” Her sister’s voice was growing more and more panicked.

“Arya, slow down, what happened?”

There was a disconcertingly long beat of silence.

“I may have accidentally uploaded Jon’s video to the internet.”

#jon x sansa #jonsa #mollyraesly #charity fanfic #lord i am rusty

[thelmasirby32]

Overcoming Webmaster Depression

This year is a rather easy year to be depressed. ;)

COVID-19, fearmongering media, polarized hyper-charged social media, mass unemployment, lockdowns that killed exercise routines and social connections, loss of hope / purpose / meaning, a guy who stuck a gun in the belly area of a pregnant woman overdosing on fentanyl shortly after he passed counterfeit currency, that broader background being utterly ignored so outrage could fuel widespread rioting with a man in dreadlocks kicking a man sitting in the street unconscious & other bonus random drive by shootings where actual heroes are murdered at random, cities being burned down, communist anarchy, social "justice" movements founded on the idiotic idea of improving society by ripping apart the family unit, etc.

This post is not a suicide letter, but an ode to reality of accepting today for what it is. :D

pic.twitter.com/OWBHGa5eKR— Zero Gravity Media (@zerogravityhxp) August 12, 2020

Last year was the first year where I managed an office with a bunch of employees in it. When the office opened my email inbox had under 2,000 emails built up in it over a 16 year period of working on the web. Far from inbox zero, I am now above 20,000. I think in a Bill Gates interview about a half year ago I smiled after hearing his sort of EGT was how his email inbox was doing. I timed that office opening almost perfectly for COVID-19 so I could have all the stress and cost associated with training a team, setting up a ton of computers, creating workflow, ... and then none of the benefits as the office would get shut down shortly after things began to operate smoothly. :D

By the end of last year a was a bit (err...lot) on the fat side from working too much, too much stress, and exercising too little. My weight and the length of my fuse are reciprocals.

In the past I used to harness negative energy into a form of rage to fuel drive, but now that I am over 40 I find it much harder to live that way. I've already had a number of near death experiences (including one when my wife was pregnant with our only child) and think at some point living that rage-drive way is just shitty. Just say no to endless rage.

So when it was obvious this year was largely going to be dog crap, I started to look internally instead of externally & figured it made more sense to improve health & mood than to fight the gravity of the global depression we are currently living through.

Exogenous Shocks

When things change out of nowhere they can end up dramatically changing the social and economic order.

Many such changes are utterly arbitrary and orthogonal to the concepts of fairness, justice, human decency, etc.

Some parties are politically connected & shielded from actual market forces.

As a self-employed person living overseas I am certainly not one of those protected parties. That said, my family and the people who work for me look to me and hope I can help shield them from some of the crap reality served up this year.

As a rule, when exogenous shocks happen those who are not politically connected get screwed hardest.

Smaller firms tend to under-perform larger firms: "As the earnings season draws to a close, companies within the Russell 2000 stock index — the small-cap benchmark — have reported an aggregate loss of $1.1bn, compared to profits of almost $18bn a year earlier, according to data provider FactSet. Meantime, the much bigger companies within the benchmark S&P 500 index have posted a 34 per cent aggregate drop in earnings, to $233bn."

Poorer people are more likely to lose their jobs.

Emerging markets tend to get hit harder than developed markets. Which only adds to the powder keg of instability as the food price inflation tied to falling incomes makes many people rather desperate.

etc.

As people get desperate violence increases & many governments get overthrown.

Central banks printing cash to prop up the financial markets only increases the divide further.

Congratulations @federalreserve pic.twitter.com/8HxhLH9il5— Sven Henrich (@NorthmanTrader) August 17, 2020

That increased income & wealth inequality makes "the system" only feel that much more fraudulent, which in turn acts as a powder keg to fuel more arbitrary misdirected violence.

Tesla now has a $340 billion market capitalization. They remain unprofitable outside of harvesting tax credits.

Beyond fueling increased violence, the sky high numbers for FOMO stocks also lead some people to feel like they are failures for only slightly succeeding or just getting by.

Others pile in to trashy cryptocurrencies in an attempt to catch up where they only further compound their losses.

Waiting Things Out

It is worth noting many of the jobs that are gone are gone for good.

We may very well be facing a global depression:

"The pandemic has created a massive economic contraction that will be followed by a financial crisis in many parts of the globe, as nonperforming corporate loans accumulate alongside bankruptcies. Sovereign defaults in the developing world are also poised to spike. This crisis will follow a path similar to the one the last crisis took, except worse, commensurate with the scale and scope of the collapse in global economic activity. And the crisis will hit lower-income households and countries harder than their wealthier counterparts. ... In all of the worst financial crises since the mid-nineteenth century, it took an average of eight years for per capita GDP to return to the pre-crisis level. (The median was seven years.) ... The last time all engines failed was in the Great Depression; the collapse this time will be similarly abrupt and steep."

If you can't afford to feed your family of course you have to solve that problem first. But if you are not absolutely financially desperate then this can be a good year to win in ways other than finances & only worry about money after other things are in a better place.

This is a good year to find meaning through various types of self-improvement and doing lots of small & kind things for the people around you. Yesterday was a good day to buy your wife flowers. So is today. Tomorrow is a good day to buy a friend a surprise gift.

One of the best books you can read about developing positive personal habits is Charles Duhigg's The Power of Habit. It is 8 years old now but it is still a great read.

Pushing for broad structural changes in a crisis through ideology which removes ordinary feedback loops often ends up creating only further injustice with the campaign "hero" looking like their polar opposite. Ideology pushed hard enough wraps around to the other side.

When things are absolutely screwed the world over it is better to focus on improving yourself and your family rather than promoting arbitrary extrajudicial justice and burning things down further.

Here are the steps I took to improve a good bit so far this year.

Coronavirus Lockdowns

When I saw a video of a guy walking down the street in Wuhan cough blood and fall over dead I immediately ordered facemasks for everyone in my extended family. I also bought facemasks and gloves into the office for workers. As it turns out gloves were largely a non-winner because using them is more likely to spread virus and bacteria, but the intent was good.

Cygnus recommended taking the supplement quercetin & so did Dr. Zev, so I do that.

Our government does not want us to treat covid early. If I get covid and no hcq access-I would take IMMEDIATELY quercetin 500mg three times a day for 7 days and elemental zinc 50mg one a day for 7 days, and z-pack. Every American home should have quercetin and zinc.— Dr. Zev Zelenko (@zev_dr) August 16, 2020

When lockdowns were announced I hoarded months worth of baby formula so I know my daughter would be ok & bought her a couple birthday presents in case the lockdowns were extended repeatedly. They were, so that worked out ok.

When lockdowns ended I bought a ton of different toys for my daughter so I could share them with her and make up for the limited outside contact for the time being. I also brought my lead graphic & web designer a dual monitor computer to his house to improve his efficiency.

Any day where there is not a lockdown I try to make the most of it knowing another couple months or quarter year can disappear arbitrarily.

Making the most out of the day for me often means doing something positive on the health front & meaning front right away. Things like getting food for my daughter or going for a walk are big wins early in the day as we tend to slow down and get tired as the day drags on.

Health / Fitness

Early in the year when I could use the gym I was walking at a brisk pace for about an hour a day while reading books and listening to podcasts.

After gyms were forced to be closed I started walking outside. Initially this was often to get groceries or various baby supplies, though I continued to walk daily even when there wasn't a real direct need just to keep mood up with all the ridiculous crap going on in the world. I used to think the Philippines was way too hot when I had to drive everywhere, but even if it is hot as hell it isn't bad to be out in the sun and heat so long as you are only walking especially if the walk has a purpose which helps your loved ones in some way.

Walking regularly with nothing else going on can be boring as hell, of course, so to offset the boredom I bring my iPhone and have some Airpod Pro earbuds with their killer noise canceling features. When nobody is near me I sometimes pull down my face mask and jog or sprint for a while to add variety to the day. I also sometimes make people's ears bleed by singing along in an effort to share the joy of whatever I am listening to. :D

There are many awesome acoustic songs on YouTube. Revisiting unheard versions of songs you liked a long time ago can make the lyrics more powerful.

Some of the spoken-word song introductions are quite powerful: "everyone wants you to forget you are gonna die, because if they convince you your not gonna die you waste your time doing what they want you to do. Spend money on what they're selling. ... one day I'm gonna die, but before then I'm gonna live, live, live, the way I want to live and I hope you do too."

Whenever I exercise I usually have caffeine as well. I view it a bit like a band aid or kick start, but I try to only use it either explicitly when walking or when intensely focusing on work.

If my back hurts from sitting at the chair too long that is a cue to get up and take a break even if it is a short one to go play with my daughter.

Sometimes I will walk two or three times throughout the day to break up the monotony.

Most my exercise is walking or jogging, but occasionally I will do a few push ups or sit ups.

In a world of gloom it is hard to look in the mirror and see a steaming pile of garbage which is not well maintained and feel good about yourself.

You know what sacrifices you have made and what the costs were, but it is easy to go down the path of resentment if outcomes are subpar and beyond your control in the short term.

If you don't feel alive you aren't. :D

It's a lifeless life, with no fixed address to give But you're not mine to die for anymore so I must live

Diet

I try to eat salad, Indian food, quiche, nuts, beef jerky, and all sorts of other foods where carbohydrates are sort of only incidental and are not core to the dish.

Anything that looks/smells/feels/sounds like sugar, rice, potatoes, bread, derivatives thereof, etc. I consider to be poison / systemic inflammation / weight gain and try to skip it.

I also consider drinking calories to be a disaster as the glycemic index on things like a soda are through the roof.

If you are fat and eat a lot of carbs you are repeatedly spiking your blood sugar, then it crashes, then you are hungry again. This habit & addictive cycle works on some of the same neural pathways that hardcore drugs do.

Sometimes I still do eat a bit of peanut butter or chocolate or frozen chocolate dipped in peanut butter, though I try not to use it meal replacement style very often & try not to be "full jar now empty" Aaron.

When I wake I often wait at least 4 or 5 hours before eating my first meal. In some cases I stretch that out to 6 or 8.

Communicating

I know a lot of people are in a bad state this year, so I try to offset that at least slightly by overcommunicating.

I send my mom pictures or videos of my daughter every day as she told me those help her sleep better at night and her watch even shows her blood pressure is lower and she feels much more well rested the next morning. I have bought my daughter a ton of extra clothes to wear just so my mom gets a bit more variety in the pictures and my daughter will have a ton of memories to sort through when she is older.

Our daughter has quite a bit of energy so sometimes she makes communicating with my wife hard. Sometimes we have better luck texting back and forth if something is urgent and then discuss it in more detail over email or when our daughter is taking a nap.

A lot of people around me have recently went through hardships beyond the financial uncertainties many are facing.

Our web designer's mom had a heart attack then got COVID-19 but I think she is ok now.

Our lead writer had a friend younger than I who after going to the hospital with COVID-19.

Our lead programmer's parents recently had their house broken into with some of their sentimental jewelry stolen & he is the glue guy for the whole family.

One of my buddies recently broke up with his long time girlfriend.

I am sure there are a lot more similar stories that I have not been told yet. So as a rule of thumb I sort of consider that if people have historically been good its ok to give them more leeway this year & be extra kind.

Mental Health

I generally am not a fan of taking prescription drugs to solve symptoms of real problems as in many cases those can cause additional bonus problems. I get that some people need various drugs to get by and survive, though outside of caffeine I typically try not to drink much or do much of anything else that can add more instability or create more bonus issues.

The above said, I think my baseline mood (especially if I am not in great health) tends to be a bit darker than average.

The early web was quite cool and you could do things like email Tim Berners-Lee and get a response, or someone would read your site and see you mentioned Carl Sagan and shoot you an email like this one:

I wrote the first modern book on depression in 1980. It was the first book to present depression as a biochemical disease, rather than a 'mental' illness (whatever that is). And, I was the one who introduced Carl Sagan to television as a local TV personality in L. A., Carl was a good family friend who came to watch a taping of my PBS show, he got really intense when he realized what a medium for communication TV was, and I introduced him to the GM of the station, that's how he got to TV. He was more of a scientist than an actor, I coached him on TV persona. He was a very intense person, and did not have a big ego; he was always open to new information, whether it came from experiences or ideas. He would have loved living now.

To solve both depression and weight gain problems, try an over-the-counter nutrient called 5HTP. The Walmarts here sell the least expensive and best pills. Take about nine a day for about nine days, you will notice you haven't felt the urge to eat all day and you don't have as much depression symptoms; the griffonia seed from which 5HTP is made increases serotonin in the brain.

Then a follow up after I asked about the FDA ban of L-Tryptophan:

Now something gets clearer! When tryotophan was banned because of one supposedly contaminated batch, I used every tiny bit of influence I had as a journalist, talked to every politician I could get in touch with. It was like going up against a brick wall. I wrote articles, did everything, could not understand at all why the nutrient was being banned for one bad batch in Japan and why resistance to overturning the ban was so solid. I even tried to obtain the animal version, and was told it 'wasn't the same,' yet according to a chemical analysis, it was. Now I understand....

My book is "Depression, How to Recognize It, Cure It and Grow From It, Prentice Hall hardback, Simon Schuster paperback.

She also mentioned

Depression research is such big business that I feel they don't want to find a real cure. The way the research should have gone is to study the chemical makeup of depression, then match the medication effect to different brain hormones (as well as cortisol-though it's not a biogenic amine, it's a definite precursor), and find accurate ways of testing which hormone or combination thereof is/are out of balance, so the correct medication can be prescribed right off the bat. So, if it's a seratonin imbalance, the doc gives one medication, if it's monomaine oxadase, the patient gets another, and so on. Prosac is like a huge blanket device, rather than an accurate laser beam going to the exact place it is needed.

Depression research really hasn't progressed that much in the last 20 years, imho.

I know a big part of my improved mood was from taking 5-HTP along with Vitamin B & Vitamin C just before bed. When I take those I can fall asleep a bit quicker, sleep about an hour less, wake up feeling more refreshed, and am less hungry the following morning. If I had to guess, I would say the 5-hydroxytryptophan contributed to my recent 40 pound weight loss more than anything else did.

Anyhow, I would not recommend 5-HTP for anyone who is on SSRIs, MAO inhibitors, or many other drug classes (talk to your doctor first, etc.). But I figured a lot of people feel like crap this year so I should mention it has worked well for me.

Before writing this blog post I also recommended it to a few other people.

Our lead content writer was down after her friend died & I recommended it to her. She said she felt a difference the very next day.

Our backend developer took some after I told him about it and said his personal doom loop he was going through was better within 2 days.

I do not think it is a magic cure-all or would work for everyone, but if you are a bit down combining a bit of 5-HTP with exercise, healthy diet, sleep, etc. can help you improve your worldview and outlook a bit to get through the challenging times we are going through.

My only complaint (glass is always at least half empty :D) would be that as I have discarded that sort of rage cycle I find it easier to be distracted and harder to focus on work. If you love what you do focus comes automatic, but if you don't then you do sometimes have to trick yourself a bit into being productive if you literally could be retired for life. But I suppose most people would say that is an absurd "problem" to complain about.

My only solution to the above is watching MJ on MJ. :D

I’m going to tweet this & pin it to my page so I can watch it every single day When MJ talks about winning & leadership has a price, he’s talking about sacrificing a part of who you are for all that your team can become. A Championship Standard!! pic.twitter.com/IbK95jFTVY— Jaycob Ammerman (@Jammer2233) May 13, 2020

Ending on a Positive Note

Destruction leads to a very rough road but it also breeds creation And earthquakes are to a girl's guitar, they're just another good vibration And tidal waves couldn't save the world from Californication

If you are reading this blog post you are almost certainly involved in some part of web development, content production, internet marketing and/or e-commerce.

Ultimately as the world is reshaped you will benefit as long as you get through the current period as literally *everything* is moving online.

This chart on e-commerce continues to amaze me. pic.twitter.com/zW4EwKHW1N— David Schawel (@DavidSchawel) August 17, 2020

Given that the big platform monopolies are now getting the PR black eyes they deserve for their locked down ecosystems there is a good chance the web will be a much better place in the next half-decade.

The number of people rushing to become their own bosses is at a record level. Many will fail, but many will innovate and create new markets as they have no choice but to succeed. As more things move online, attention merchant platforms keep breaking culture into smaller and smaller chunks to fuel increasingly distorted views of reality that cater toward confirmation bias and rage.

At some point people will tire of the feed-based never-ending stream and want things they can complete. The growth of Neflix and their streaming competitors reflects the desire for something longer and more in-depth.

Some of legacy print media brands with high cost structures are now recycled selling marked-up garbage in parallel markets.

The combination of these trends will drive an increased appreciation for authenticity & the desire for human connection.

Long ago my original SEO mentor stated:

This is what I think, SEO is all about emotions, all about human interaction. People, search engineers even, try and force it into a numbers box. Numbers, math and formulas are for people not smart enough to think in concepts.

I think the best brands, the best sites have a large portion of their founders personality in them. Never be afraid to be yourself, after all there are 1/2 billion people on the www, not all of them have to agree with you. Concentrate on the ones that share your views, concentrate on making their experience the very best it can be, the rest forget them.

Or to put it another way, the best sites say - this is what we do, this is how we do it, if you don't like it go somewhere else.

Ultimately though I think it comes down to desire and the will to win.

He later sold his business for a life changing sum, so unlike his favorite football club, I guess he had the will to win. The question remains if he will purchase the football club and "fix" them. :D

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from Digital Marketing News http://www.seobook.com/managing-depression

[dwestfieldblog]

LIE BACK AND THINK OF...ENGLAND

Hello...Back once more from a jolly jaunt to the motherland, various weeks of mental and physical bad health interspersed with bursts of good humour and rabid hypo-mania. So nice to be trapped in my mind when alcohol free. So of course started smoking because I need some kind of pacifier. Back to Prague for blood tests again. Another temporary reprieve today, collapsing into coherence as all good systems should. Augmented chords are mysterious, the diminished are tension...unlike some sequences I could mention. Shame the owners of this site have used an algorithm to delete various pictures on my blog which involve nipples, regardless of whether they are actually from classical paintings. Art is being censored...Anyway...enjoying my middle aged adolescence, planning ahead for obsolescence...greetings to the readers from Canes Ventaci, why so Sirius? Smiling is healthy...

Who is the one who is living me now?   Da Free John

Religious news/olds...The pope says the church must never again hush up any abuse from its priests (in 2019, that's about (count them) one thousand, nine hundred and something days since the Church was founded with the help of a corrupt Emperor Constantine. Seems like a long time for a Christian group to get to show actual kindness, openness and morality huh? )Well Spotlight fans, it's a start eh? Compassion for your enemies and redemption for all. Or not.  

Only found out last month that the word Guru literally means heavy. As in serious. Hmm...or OM AH HUM if you prefer. Well Buddha looks quite hefty eh?

Asshat in Syria appears to have won and sees no shame in having started a war in which hundreds of thousands of his own people have been murdered and/or 'vanished', all for the sake of putting shopkeepers and students who protested for more freedom in their place. Chemical weapons, mass genocide and now a puppet state of Iran and Russia. Well, otherwise it would have been beholden to the USA and that is never a good thing either, ask Britain. Perhaps we can leave America after Europe and become the proud third world prison island to which we have been heading for the last few decades. Oh I am in a good mood this evening.

WOOL..a nice little village in England...received a letter from PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) politely suggesting/demanding that they change their name, as the way in which wool is sheared from sheep is aggressive and cruel. Etc. As if being under attack from the Far Left and Right is not enough, the vegans and snowflakes are rising fast to destroy the last vestigial tails of sanity. 1984 meets the Matrix and Kafka and Huxley have a love/hate-child. For the record, I despise tally ho 'good sport' fox hunting as much as I do animal liberation maniacs. (Yes, I do like animals,...wolves, hawks, black panthers, butterflies, intelligent dogs and dolphins. And Krtek.) Wool will keep their name. So far. Amen. Oh Man...

Gender neutral EU parliament...most words with 'man' in them have all been replaced with less 'specific' terms. When I was a boy and I heard the term Mankind, I never thought of men, I thought of people all over the world. Shame so many adults cannot do this too...but wait, the EU...they have substituted mankind with Humanity. (Doesn't that have man in it too?) I would LOVE  to be present at one of these meetings where such semantically diseased people meet to waste life with such pointless new guidelines and turn a psychic death ray on them.  

At some point, one hopes that folk will swing back away from these extremes and find the middle path of balance. But I don't think it is likely. People will always have ideas because they have brains of varying types and according to nature or nurture and their egos, can make the most mind screwingly dumb thoughts into reality...but for this to happen in a widespread way, requires someone at the end of the process, who, when presented with such, has to approve of, validate, wave it on as a new legally accepted norm. These are some of the people with whom I would most like to have 'a word'. Know what I mean?

Meanwhile new buzz phrases abound...'I self identify as a'...fill in the blank. Choose your gender, you don't even have to have an operation or hormone replacement, just announce it to the universe and be free. However, an opinion is not a truth. (of course I include my own writings in this) If you KNOW you are in the wrong body, CHANGE your body. Hands up (in the air) all those who can remember a time when 'Gender fluid' just meant... fill in the blank again.  

Reminds me that Israel is still trying to push the fallacy (into a new globally accepted law) that criticising its government or latest in a line of corrupt leaders equates with racist anti Semitism. It isn't. No more than saying something critical of Angela Merkel for her immigration policy would mean the speaker is a sexist/misogynist. Or a hater of Germans. Same way that mentioning a self identifying sportswoman with a penis who has not yet had the op or hormone therapy is still a man until they commit fully to the sex they feel and know they are and is perhaps not ok to compete with other women while testosterone is in their blood...is not 'transphobic', just stating the obvious. And...

Lesbians who refuse to sleep with a self identifying woman with a penis are also not transphobic, they are making a choice about who and what they will sleep with. If one is not turned on by another human being, then they are not turned on by them. Of course, this is just an opinion and therefore quite possibly not a truth. But it seems reasonable and inoffensive eh? Unless you are a radical transpansexual. In which case my truthful opinion is that all radicals are mentally unstable dangerous lunatics to be avoided. Or try beetroot and carrot juice to eliminate the free radicals....

(That all said, I recall reading some years ago that one of the ultimate forms of humanity/was to be both sexes as one. So who knows? Not me, I never lost control, ha ha. Face to face with the womb man who sold the world. Would bring a whole new meaning to 'go f yourself'. Hermaphrodites come together in the end, alpha/ omega...)

'Nine months to get out, he said, and the rest of our fool lives trying to get back in'.

Perhaps this could be wonderful, with all identities blending into one understanding of life on this planet, were it not for the surplus of those types who will use every opportunity to mislead and manipulate for profit and power. At a school in Brighton (of course) in England, plans have been approved to teach children that all genders can menstruate. Yes, really. Why should 'girls' have all the fun eh? This is where we seem to be heading at greater and greater speed. Absolute bollocks/ovaries being taught as factual lessons. (Hmmm...a brief look with a third eye at history and stories accepted as fact and it can be seen that this is not all that new.)  

Putin's evil genius plan to continue being president after his term runs out (under current constitutional rules) is to absorb Belorusssia. Russia thus becoming a new federation which will need a new constitution and to hold an election which he will win. When that runs out, no doubt he will take over/invade/absorb Ukraine etc totally and go on until he is dead. Or everyone else is. Alpha males, huh?  

Speaking of which...More hours of CNN and their seemingly accurate reportage of all the utter, dreadful bullcrap from the useful idiot (for Moscow) Trump. Gleefully dissecting every nonsense statement from the blonde succubus's poison mouth. January 23rd, America remains in shutdown as he plays chicken with his entire country. Who will blink first? Reptiles can go for a long time without this. 'Waves of inquiries' look set to begin against the madman. 'Impeach the mother......' indeed. But after such a concentrated amount of watching and reading the news and the colossal amount of  negative light, ah do believe I have had enuff again.  

'I am He that was and is and shall be'. Apparently, Beethoven had this written down by his own hand on his desk from Egyptian Book of the Dead. 'Serenity is a problem when you've been this close to Heaven.'

('....thus, while the tangible has advantages, it is the intangible that makes it useful' Tao te Ching. Perhaps I will (or should) leave more blanks in this. Does every void need to be filled? China is now on the dark side of the moon, that just asks for a song to be written. Feel safe? Huawei, ha ha ha to everyone who bought their stuff.)

The Czech Republic (while still Czechoslovakia) had a Velvet Revolution, Russia has Pussy Riot and Britain has...? The old cliché true for the greater part was that in the First World War, the common soldiery were 'lions led by donkeys'. These days the majority of the 'common' folk seem like donkeys being led by the greedy into a knackers yard to be slaughtered for meat and glue. Here comes Brexit on a wave of misplaced expectation of regaining control over our destiny. Seems unlikely when the group mind of my country has sunk so deep into entropy, but that is just an opinion. Arf. 'Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way'.Roger Waters.

The young are still in favour of Corbybn and his highly dubious vision, regardless of the radical Momentum behind him who are very likely being supported financially by the Kremlin. Goddess bless our proud snowflake youth! Not going to be many 'safe spaces' available kids if he wins...Socialism with an inhuman face. Students in the West have yet to learn how evil this stuff is. For decades they have demonstrated against fascists real and imaginary, Conservative Thatcher policy, Republican reactionary hogwash etc. Perhaps they need to experience at first hand just what their student brethren in the East did from the end of the second world war to 1989. And beyond. The far Left sucks as hard as the far Right. Not all revolutionaries are as cool as Che Guevara. Kids, study China, Venezuela, Cuba, North Korea and other Socialist paradises, (if only for one hot hour) their governments kill a considerable amount more of their own people than do the democratic Western governments. There is a reason for this. All governments seek to control the narrative of what is taught in schools but not all of them kill you for questioning the story.  

Perhaps we deserve it, Britain has been coasting along, running on empty for a very long time now. The two faced 'civilised' Christian moral vacuum is being filled with many other equally unpleasant qualities. Optimism becomes a serious challenge when you are aware that some times various fires must run their course in order to burn out. Like Man. Just hope that the scorched earth policy of most of the global mode of thinking allows a spring to appear in the future. Or get the world leaders to an Alice in Wonderland party for mushroom tea. That might very well speed up the process of illumination before the Rubicon is crossed. Perhaps it has been.  

'Intelligence is the capacity to receive, decode and transmit information efficiently.' So how well are we all doing as a race? Call Pleaides 666 023 093...

True communication only possible between equals....all on different circuits...

Meow she said. Woof, he replied.  

Love from the dog star.