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#the way i wrote this without knowing a few days later id actually lose a friend
hella1975 · 6 months
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Hi, I followed you for your fic and I saw you had some posts about having ADHD.
I'm also ADHD, could you tell me about your writing process? I get stuck with things staying in the notes app and they don't really get past that stage.
I'm not sure if it's an interest thing, if the notes fulfill the want so there's no need to put it together. If you have anything thoughts about how to keep up the consistency for fic that'd be appreciated.
Hopefully this isn't too serious of a question, I just have some trouble with wanting to write but not having a purpose for it and I was wondering if that was a brain thing/relatable.
Thank you in advance for any response ☺️ also good luck with your uni stuff~
thank you anon! and dw this isn't too serious at all. i think it's interesting that you ask about keeping consistency bc ironically the biggest tell of my adhd in my writing is my INCONSISTENCY, as you can see with the way updates happen. i wrote 200k words of taob in one year and now i update twice a year on average. i wrote 60k words of tams within a few weeks and now it hasn't been updated since july. and these are just my public projects where i at least have the added pressure of knowing people are waiting for an update, you should see the state of some of my original wips! basically my point here is that my adhd is VERY apparent with my writing habits, but these days i work with it instead of trying to fight it. even before i knew i had adhd, i was aware that my writing came in periods. id go a few weeks churning out insane amounts daily and then dry up for months on end, and each time id enter the 'have i lost it??? will i ever write again???' spiral until low and behold, something would inspire me again and id be back to typing like a madman. i used to seriously fight my dry periods bc of that fear of 'losing' my writing, but that never helped and honestly turning writing into a need instead of a want probably made it worse.
it's one reason - aside the fact it is rude and annoying, i dont want to pretend it isn't or put the blame on me bc that's not what im saying here - that constant demands for fic updates bother me so much, bc people dont realise that the writing style i have now where yes we unfortunately go long times without updates is actually how my writing comes out at its best standard. so yeah! it can be incredibly frustrating and even scary to feel physically unable to write, but if it's something you like and want to do i do truly believe it'll always come back sooner or later, or at least that's my experience :)
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avainblue · 2 years
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it’s an unspoken thing between all of us- the grief of all the friends you never got to say goodbye to. like, the friends youd make in science class because the teacher sat you next to one another, the friends from your childhood who you mightve only spoken to in school, but whose existence sunk its teeth into you and left a permanent mark. even the ones you were closest to, the ones you called best friend for a time, somewhere along the way you parted without even noticing it. somewhere along the way, you played outside for the last time, shared food for the last time, stayed up talking for the last time, said i love you for the last time. when was the last time? we didnt decide to stop being friends. we didnt even say goodbye. but ‘see you next week’ turned into ‘it’s been a long time’, and now, if you saw each other in the street, you might pretend that you didnt. you might not even recognise them. they might not even recognise you. you can’t remember the shape of their nose. and what about the connections you made online when you were a child, playing games that meant so little with nameless friends that meant so much? or when you were a bit older, talking to strangers but loving them like family? here, raise a glass to the friends who disappeared one day, who deactivated, who stopped messaging you back, because online friends can bring you just as much joy as real life ones, too. when the adults told you dont talk to strangers, they didnt consider the good morning! :) texts, the have you eaten today? texts, the trying to hold in your laughter at 3am texts, the i wish timezones and continents and countries didnt exist so i could hug you texts, the little pieces of a persons heart texts, blue light flooding across the world just to say i love you. sleep well. i love you. i love you. the grief comes in waves. it’s slow, and soft, and steady- you dont notice it pooling around your ankles at first, you dont want to- but it comes. childhood is where the grief begins. it’s reared like a well-loved pet, a hungry mouth under the tablecloth. a passing thought from time to time, when you remember the girl you befriended a long long time ago, and when you wonder where she went. it doesn’t feel like much at first. it doesn’t break you yet. it’s not like real grief, not like anyone died, but you had something in your hand and now it’s empty and you can’t remember where you put it. it’s like that, except the thing in your hand was a person who loved you, once. a person whose face you couldn’t draw if the world got on its knees and begged you. when you dont get to say goodbye to someone, your memory becomes a funeral, every conversation you ever shared with them a eulogy. because this is how the story goes. i had a friend. this is not a poem. i had a friend.
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literallymechanical · 3 years
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NFT’s Are Stupider Than You Think
tl;dr if you want the full-res, 21,000 x 21,000 pixel, 300 MB image from the 69 million dollar Beeple NFT, skip to the bottom for the download link. It’s not piracy or hackery, it’s just a feature of how NFT’s work. 
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[Image ID: The low-resolution preview image for Beeple’s Everydays: The First 5000 Days, as posted on the Christie’s auction website]
Okay so we’ve all know that NFT’s—and crypto mining in general—are an environmental nightmare, in terms of ridiculous energy costs. Also, most people are aware that the digital asset itself (often artwork) that corresponds to the NFT isn’t stored on the blockchain.  But there are a few more issues that aren’t as widely understood, judging by the reporting I’m seeing.
Let’s use the 69 million dollar Beeple NFT as an example. Before anything else, here’s the auction house where Beeple sold it.  (I’m using bare URL’s in this post, to make it more clear where each link leads)
https://onlineonly.christies.com/s/beeple-first-5000-days/beeple-b-1981-1/112924
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This is a screenshot from that page.  I’ve highlighted the smart contract address, 0x2a46f2ffd99e19a89476e2f62270e0a35bbf0756. That’s the address of the NFT itself on the Ethereum blockchain.  Also note the Token ID, 40913.  Without listing these data so you can verify what you’re buying, the auction is meaningless. This appears to be an older token protocol, I think? Usually you can just get the Token ID from the smart contract without having to list it separately. I’m not an expert, idk.
Also, a very very quick primer: A blockchain (in this case, the Ethereum blockchain) is basically a verifiable, unforgeable, secure, publicly-viewable ledger, where you provably say “I have sole control over this piece of data.”
Anyway, the typical way to interact with the Ethereum blockchain is a website like etherscan.io, like so:
https://etherscan.io/address/0x2a46f2ffd99e19a89476e2f62270e0a35bbf0756
That’s the Beeple’s Everydays smart contract. Remember all this for later. Let’s move on to the stupidity. First...
The artwork isn’t stored on the blockchain. But neither is the metadata you own.
Most people are aware of this, to some extent.  The artwork itself isn’t on the blockchain, just a piece of metadata, right?
Well, no, it’s actually stupider. The metadata isn’t on the blockchain.  The only thing that’s actually stored on the blockchain is a URI (Uniform Resource Identifier), which in practice is almost always either a URL (web address) or an IPFS hash (InterPlanetary File System address), but it could be any kind of address. Hell, it could literally be GPS coordinates, if you want. Usually it’s an IPFS hash, though.
Here’s the URI that’s stored in the Beeple NFT. You can get it from that etherscan.io link by going to the “contract” tab and entering “40913″ into the tokenURI query.
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ipfs://ipfs/QmPAg1mjxcEQPPtqsLoEcauVedaeMH81WXDPvPx3VC5zUz
For most NFT’s it’s easier than that, you can get the TokenID from the contract? Again, I’m not an expert, but I think this is an outdated token protocol called “Erc20.” 
Since this is an IPFS hash, not a url, you can’t quite just type it into a typical web browser. First you should turn it into a web address by using an IPFS gateway, such as ipfs.io:
https://ipfs.io/ipfs/QmPAg1mjxcEQPPtqsLoEcauVedaeMH81WXDPvPx3VC5zUz
If you’re on tumblr mobile and clicking links is annoying, here’s a screenshot of what you’ll find at that address.
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[Image ID: A screenshot of the JSON text file linked by the expensive Beeple NFT. It lists metadata for the artwork.]
The URI you own can die at any time
The point of storing things on a blockchain is that they are immutable, and verifiable, and can’t be forged.  "ipfs://ipfs/QmPAg1... etc.” isn’t going anywhere, and is provably yours.
However, the text file that lives at that URI? That screenshot? That’s not stored on the blockchain, and it can disappear.  You own the GPS coordinates of a storage locker full of paintings, but that doesn’t help you if the metaphorical storage facility burns down.  Or if whoever has the key to the storage locker (often the original artist, and/or the auction website) comes in and replaces everything with pictures of rugs. 
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[Image ID: A tweet where an artist explains that they replaced their NFT artwork with pictures of carpets, “pulling the rug” on their auctions.]
Both of these things are already happening.  A lot of NFT’s are already “abandoned,” asserting ownership over a dead URI. IPFS storage is supposed to take care of that, but in practice it’s poorly implemented, and even when done right it isn’t as failsafe as they’d have you believe. IPFS peer-to-peer storage is slightly less fragile that just storing a file on a website, but not by much. If the IPFS node goes down, the file is lost.
Does this sound like it wildly defeats the purpose of using decentralized blockchain storage in the first place? You’re right! It does.
If the auction website you bought your NFT on goes out of business, you will almost certainly lose the NFT you bought. And we all know how stable web startups are lol. Anyway, next up...
You don’t have exclusive access to anything
A lot of people think of owning an NFT like they own a painting. They have the artwork. They can keep it to themselves, or they can display it in a gallery with their name next to it, but everybody knows it’s theirs!  NFT startups use this as a selling point. They say anybody can have a print of the Mona Lisa, but only you own the original.
This is dumb, because in the case of digital art, the print and the original are identical in every way.  Every single 1 and 0 is the same, and if URI goes down, who cares who bought it? The NFT says you just own a URI that points to a text file. And by design, that URI is public. This isn’t a hack, or a bug. This is the entire point. But the people who run auction sites can be hella disingenuous about that.
Here’s that text file again.  Notice this bit I just highlighted at the bottom? 
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That’s a separate IPFS hash for the actual image file.  MakersPlace wrote this NFT incorrectly by using their own makersplace.com IPFS gateway instead of just posting the highlighted bit on its own—if MakersPlace goes out of business, that link will die—so instead I’ll link to that hash through the ipfs.io gateway, which is probably less likely to break any time soon.
But if it does, there are plenty more... until the MakersPlace IPFS node goes down, in which case it’s just gone forever no matter what lol.
So, without further ado...
WARNING: THIS IS A DIRECT LINK TO A 319 MEGABYTE JPEG. IF YOU’RE ON MOBILE, THAT MIGHT MAKE YOUR PHONE SAD IDK.
https://ipfs.io/ipfs/QmXkxpwAHCtDXbbZHUwqtFucG1RMS6T87vi1CdvadfL7qA
You’re welcome.
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universalfanfic · 3 years
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Stutton Spooky Mermaid  AU
I blacked out and wrote almost 8k words of a prequel Stutton spooky mermaid au based off @inkoutsidethelines Mary/Owen au
Sutton flopped back on the bed and let out a sigh as she rubbed her forehead with her free hand.  
“I just got in tonight, Vicki,” she said. “I haven’t even had time to see if anything is weird yet. The hotel receptionist seemed normal?” 
Vicki huffed from the other end of the phone. 
“Well, I’m sure you’ll get a better feel for the town tomorrow. I’m telling you, there’s something about that place. Disappearances, a body that ‘decomposed’, like, immediately, and not even any local reports on any of it? It’s perfect for the podcast.” 
“I can’t believe I agreed to come here.” 
Vicki laughed.
“I don’t remember you complaining when I told you it was a beach town.” 
“True.” Sutton rolled over and rested her chin on her arm. “Maybe I’ll play hooky one of the days I’m here.” 
“On partially my dime? Try again. I want as much research as you can possibly get. And don’t forget to interview some locals. Personal accounts always sound professional in these true crime things.” 
“Yeah, yeah.” Bemoaned Sutton.
She rolled over again and hung up after reconfirming to Vicki her plans and forbidding her from making a podcast episode about her if something happened during her stay. 
That got another laugh. 
---
Sutton emerged bright and early the next day to hit the town. In the light of day it looked even less like a spooky murder town than it still didn’t during the night. Sidewalks boarded the main road, giving pedestrians easy ability to access shops, and there were cheerful sandwich board signs beckoning people in to take a look at gift shop sales and reasonably priced breakfasts. 
She stopped at a local diner first, figuring she might as well eat and fuel up before getting down to business. The building looked like it was in the middle of renovation, with a makeshift menu board and cans of paint in the corner. The woman at the counter proudly explained that she and her boyfriend were trying to get the place up and running. 
“Who knows,” she said with a wink as she rang up Sutton’s order. “If this business works out, maybe I’ll marry him.”
It seemed they were getting a decent stream of customers despite the construction mess, probably due to the fact that there were only so many choices in the area. Perhaps their relationship was in luck.
Sutton sat down in a booth and pulled out some paperwork to look over while she waited. Vicki had printed out everything concerning the weird occurrences in the area, and it still wasn’t much. What spoke more loudly about the oddness of the occurrences was what wasn’t done or recorded. 
For several missing people to have this town be their last known location, it was startling how little investigation there was done by local police. 
Sutton shifted her notes and grimaced as she came across a grainy photo Vicki printed. 
A few months ago they actually found a body a mile or so outside the town. Another police department had photographed the scene before the town’s department had suddenly taken over. 
In the picture, a man laid on the side of the road, like he'd been traveling on foot, and he looked- Sutton scraped her tongue with her teeth- gross. 
Apparently from the time he went missing to when his body was found was only three days, but by that point his body was already... in advanced decomposition? But that didn’t feel right. It looked more- crusty to Sutton. Like a dry sponge. 
Besides, bodies didn’t decompose to that point in three days; even if they were left in the sun.
Ultimately the death was ruled to be due to a heart condition and the case closed. 
Sutton covered the photo and looked for something less disturbing before breakfast. Though, really, there wasn’t much to go off of. They weren’t trying to solve the mystery here, but it’d be helpful to have enough info to throw out some theories for listeners.
--
She finished breakfast and set out to get to work. Speaking to random people was a little intimidating at the moment, so she decided to start at the library to see if there were any records there. 
The library was a bit musty and underfunded. Sutton slipped passed the fiction sections and made straight for the newspaper archives. 
Unsurprisingly, there wasn’t much there. Sutton had hoped they just hadn’t discovered the internet here, but even their paper records revealed very little.  She sifted through articles on small burglaries, high school sports, and chili cook-offs. Nothing to imply the Hallmark-esque town would have any dark secrets. The best thing she could find was a notice from over ten years ago warning visitors away from partying at some place simply called ‘the lagoon’. But no other references to the location popped up and Sutton brushed it off to focus on other things.  Eventually she gave up with the library and took what meager notes she scratched down as she made her way back out in the town. As awkward as it might be, she was probably going to have to start asking people questions. She stopped in a kitschy gift shop and pretended to peruse the wares. Luckily there weren’t many people inside, and Sutton was grateful she came during the off season. She picked up a conch shell and inspected it before looking up and making eye contact with the clerk at the register. 
“You, ah, have neat stuff!” 
The clerk gave a flat sort of bemused look as they shrugged.
“Thanks? You like shells?” 
Sutton put the shell down. 
“Um, they’re fine. I was thinking for gifts, though.” She moseyed closer to the register as casually as she could.  “What’s popular with tourists?” She asked. “I’m sure you get a lot of people through here.” 
“A bit more in the summer,” the clerk replied. “And people seem to like the wind chimes.” 
“Cool, cool.” Said Sutton. “A lot of people, huh? Any weird customers?” 
The clerk blew air out of their nose.
“I mean, always.”
It wasn’t quite the answer Sutton was looking for. 
“I mean, any good stories? Maybe, I don’t know, strange people hanging around?” 
The clerk’s expression flickered and they eased back as they looked at her with narrowed eyes.
“What?”
Sutton winced. 
 “I just mean, I read there have been some disappearances around-”
The clerk’s expression completely shut down and they stepped back from the register like Sutton was dangerous. 
“Actually,” they said, “I have some things to organize in the back. If you’ll excuse me.” 
They ducked away and Sutton was left floundering alone with even more questions. 
-
Her luck didn’t get any better the rest of the day, and her stomach only churned more with every local who avoided her like the plague after a few polite inquiries. Whatever was going on around here, no one wanted any part of it and Vicki wasn’t going to be thrilled that she went a whole day without anything juicy. 
Sutton felt queasy about the situation. Clearly there was something if everyone looked so freaked out when she even mentioned it. 
She stopped by the diner again for coffee and a snack and decided she wouldn’t ask anyone there about the disappearances in case they refused to serve her afterwards. 
A few people recognized her and gave her a wide berth as she walked through town and Sutton’s uneasiness only grew. But she was fine, nothing bad was going to happen. She had a can of pepper spray in her purse. 
There was a small park near the main beach, and Sutton stopped and sat on one of the benches to sip her coffee while she tried to brainstorm a new tactic. There were some kids climbing on the jungle gym and a few playing kickball on a small concrete pad. Further down she could see families walking the beach or flying kites. 
It looked so normal. 
A loud, snapping twang startled Sutton out of her observations and she yelped, almost spilling her coffee, as the red kickball the kids were playing with nearly smacked her in the face. 
It just missed and hit the back of the bench before rolling a few feet away. One of the little boys ran over waving his hand in apology as he scooped up the ball. 
“Sorry, lady,” he said. “That almost hit you right in your face!” 
“Yeah,” agreed Sutton. “I’m glad it didn’t.” 
The boy squinted at her for a minute as he swiped some hair out of his face, and then pointed a finger at her. 
“You new around here? I haven’t seen you before.” 
“I’m visiting.” 
An idea struck Sutton and she leaned closer. 
“Hey, can I ask you a question?” 
“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.” 
Sutton rolled her eyes. It was a good practice, just inconvenient when he might be more likely to answer questions. 
“You already were,” she said. “Anyway, I’m Sutton. And I’m not going to offer you anything, like candy or a puppy.” 
“Well that sucks,” he commented. He paused briefly, thinking. “Let me see your ID.”
Oh for pete’s- 
Sutton handed him her driver’s license and the boy studied it with a haughty air before handing it back. 
“Okay, Sutton. You can ask one question and then I have to go. My team is losing the game so they’re already mad.” 
“Alright, -” Sutton paused, then was about to continue when the boy rolled his eyes right back. 
“Harley,” he said. 
“Alright, Harley. Do you know why everyone here gets scared when I ask about missing people?” Little Harley was the first person in the entire town not to go white when she brought up the subject. Instead he shrugged like the answer was simple. 
“That’s easy. It’s ‘cause the lagoon.” 
“The lagoon?” 
But Harley already ran off to rejoin his friends with little more than a backyards wave and a,
“See ya later!” 
Sutton sighed and stood. At least she got something; if the kid wasn’t just making things up. She downed the rest of her coffee and tossed it in a nearby trash. Casting one more glance back to make sure no stray kickballs were headed her way, she started to leave only to freeze. The kids were playing kickball again, but the messy brown hair of Harley was nowhere to be seen among them. 
----
Sutton got a night's sleep and headed back out the next day. At least this time she had something to focus on. The lagoon had come up twice, so it seemed like a safe bet, especially since she had no other leads. 
She packed a bag to take with her, a towel, hat, some water, and her bathing suit. Perhaps Vicki wasn’t on board with the idea of Sutton playing hooky, but if she could kill two birds with one stone, a little down time on a secluded beach and research, then Vicki didn’t need to know. 
Sutton stopped to grab a cheap boogie board as well on her quest to find this mysterious lagoon. Compared to finding answers, it was surprisingly easy to locate. 
It was a lovely spot, even if the hike almost made her wonder if it’d be worth the trek. That might have been part of the reason the article she found warned people from coming down here. If there was a group drinking, they’d have a hard time getting back out. 
But the trek through the brush was worth it. The lagoon was beautiful, with crystalline waters in almost a full circle boarded by nearly white sand. Out in the center of the circle of water was a large rock.
Sutton dropped her bag and set to arranging her stuff to spend the afternoon there. It was, afterall, research. She ought to be thorough. 
It was, of course, then that Vicki called to check in with her. 
“So? Anything?” Vicki asked immediately. 
Sutton sighed. 
“Not much, except more weirdness. No one wants to talk to me.” Vicki’s tone brightened. 
“That means there must be something good! You have to keep digging.” 
“I am! I’m at some spot called The Lagoon. I mean, it’s the best lead I have so far.” 
“A beach? Sutton, really?” 
“It’s a really pretty beach? Looks like something from a movie. Look, I’m going to do a sweep for bodies and then maybe I’ll swim out to the rock that’s out there and see if there are cryptic messages spelled out in the shrubbery or something. Does that make you feel better?” 
Vicki huffed. 
“Only slightly. Send me pics, I can use them for the Insta I’m starting to go with the podcast.” 
“Of course, your highness.”
---
Sutton did a few sweeps of the beach like she promised. There were no bodies or anything of real note. She found a few pairs of sunglasses, a flip flop, and a set of car keys; but nothing that screamed unusual or concerning. 
Like Vicki asked, she snapped a few pictures with her phone and then sent one to her mom just because the place was so pretty. 
While the sun was still up, she decided to swim out to the rock and get a panoramic shot of the full beach. She didn’t want to stay down on this beach by herself when it was getting dark, and she definitely wasn’t going to swim without the sun. Not to mention she hadn’t brought a flashlight for the return hike. 
Sutton put on her hat, grabbed a water bottle and her phone and sat them on the boogie board as she paddled out to the rock. Luckily it wasn’t a long swim, though the water became deep rather quickly. She was halfway to the rock when she thought to wonder if the warning about the lagoon had anything to do with riptides or sharks or something. 
She clambered up onto the rock quickly. 
The view from the water was even better than the view from the shore. It felt more magical, being surrounded by water, and the sand from the beach shone brilliantly in the sun. Sutton took a panoramic shot and then leaned back to let the sun rays soak into her skin. 
It was perfect down here. She wondered why the locals didn’t frequent it even if the hike was a struggle. It would wear down the path and shrubbery if more people came. 
But what in the world could this beach have to do with people disappearing? Even if it was an issue of drowning, that shouldn’t strike the level of fear in the locals eyes as it seemed to. 
Sutton leaned over and splashed her feet in the water, kicking up waves just to see if it summoned anything up. She didn’t even see any jellyfish. 
Given how calm the water was, she decided to risk it and swam a few laps around the rock and tried to open her eyes under the stinging water to see if she could see anything. She kind of wished she’d brought a waterproof phone case with her. But there didn’t seem to be anything other than some barnacle on the rock. 
She climbed back on the rock and sat to rest. There was only the quiet lapping of waves. Not even seagull calls pierced the air. After letting the silence linger, she decided she didn’t like it. It was easy here to forget that this town had multiple disappearances and a questionable death under its belt, but something about the silence of the lagoon brought those thoughts back to the forefront of her mind. 
“Yeah, no.”
Sutton wiped her wet hand on the warm rock and picked up her phone to play some music. 
She wouldn't stay much longer, she decided. There didn’t seem to be anything to help with her research, and if that Harley kid knew what he was talking about at all she definitely wasn’t going to linger around at dusk. 
Sutton tapped her bare feet and hummed along to the music as her thoughts drifted. She might have to try and see if the police station could give her any more information. Though she had a feeling they’d be just as talkative and welcoming to her questions as the townies. 
Leaning back on her hands, she stomped and shuffled her feet more as the music switched and picked up tempo. Sutton threw her head back and sang along with the song. 
“Always looking for a reason to leave Always finding something wrong with the season Your heart has just been hiding from the truth Like a circle always ready to spin Got that green light go all over your skin But the world is never gonna cut you loose  No matter where you go or what you do It’s gonna be there waiting
You keep running away  You keep running away You keep running away You’re gonna need some faster shoes”
She hummed again as she took a swig of water and checked the time. A few songs later she decided it was late enough in the afternoon to start heading back. She turned off the music and finished off the water bottle in preparation to leave. 
Slipping down the rock, Sutton tread water as she reached back for the boogie board and her things. Something about the deep, open water now made her stomach flip. An unexplainable chill ran up her spine and she gripped the board. 
It felt like someone was staring at her. 
Sutton sucked in a breath and scanned the beach, but there was no one there. 
“Don’t be stupid,” she muttered to herself. 
And just like that, in the warm glow of the late afternoon, the lagoon felt incredibly isolated and she, dangerously alone. Her pepper spray was back in her bag on the beach. 
She was halfway back when something grabbed her by the ankle and yaned her under. 
Sutton’s scream cut short as she was dragged down into the water. Her boogie board flipped over in her desperate scramble to keep hold of it, and all her things were plunged into the ocean.
Sutton kicked and struggled, but whatever had her wasn’t letting go. There were fingers around her ankle. Like a human hand. Heat seared at her ankle and she stopped herself from screaming in panic. She opened her eyes, desperate, but the salt burned and she couldn’t see through the bubbles her thrashing created. 
Could see nothing, that is, besides what looked like a pair of glowing blue eyes. 
Sutton fought harder, her lungs aching, and whatever had her let her go. She broke the surface with a coughing, sputtering gasp as she sucked in air and swam like her life depending on it. 
The minute her toes hit sand she was running. She barely paused to scoop up her bag before she dove into the brush and sprinted the hike back to her car. Only when she was back on pavement did she stop and look back. Nothing had followed her, but that didn’t stop the dread from flowering in her gut. 
Her feet were still bare. She’d left her shoes.
Her heart skipped a beat as she caught sight of her right ankle. Black marks curved and swirled around her leg, inky and crisp like a tattoo. She dropped down into a crouch and rubbed at the markings all while the blood drained from her body.
“No. No way. What the heck?”
Oh no. Oh heck no. 
Her eyes darted back to the trail, but still. Nothing emerged. 
Well. She wasn’t going to stick around and wait until something did. 
--
Sutton limped into the hotel lobby. Her feet were cut up, she was dripping wet, and her skin was pale as a ghost.
The receptionist jumped up from their chair and blinked at her with startled concern.
“Miss, are you alright,” she asked. 
Sutton swallowed.
“Actually, I’m going to need to check out early.”
“You- Is something wrong with your accommodations?”
“Something happened.”
The woman at the desk blinked again.
“Something happened?”
Sutton grimaced and adjusted her bag.
“I mean, something came up.
She rummaged through her bag for her wallet to pull out her card and found her hand shook as she tried to pass it over. 
The receptionist grew more concerned. She stepped around the small desk as if to help Sutton to a seat.
“Miss, you look-”
The woman froze and her face went ashen as she took in the puddle of water and spots of blood at Sutton’s feet. Suddenly she backed up and put the desk between them again. Sutton watched as she pasted on a tight smile. The sort of expression you give someone when you’re trying not to let on that something is horribly wrong.
“I’m afraid check out hours are over until tomorrow morning,” she said, voice thin. “You’ll have to come back when the manager is here.”
Sutton balked.
“But-!” 
“Have a good night.” 
And then the receptionist had the audacity to walk away. She disappeared inside the office and didn’t come back out even as Sutton lingered at the desk.
She didn’t get much sleep that night. Her thoughts kept churning over her near death experience, the receptionist’s terrified face, the strange black lines on her ankle. 
The answer to the uninvestigated disappearances hit her with a terrible, near unbelievable, clarity. This town had a monster and the people knew it. And what kind of monster let go of its prey after it caught them?
Sutton tried not to hyperventilate as she pulled the blankets up over her head. 
The kind that toyed with their food. 
--
When she woke up her throat was dry. More than dry. Like she hadn’t touched water in more than a day dry. She stumbled out of bed and gripped the edges of the bathroom sink, drinking straight from the faucet until the feeling died down. Water dripped down her chin as she stared at herself in the mirror. She still looked pale and scared. Her hair was curling and frizzing out of control thanks to the salt water and the fact that she hadn’t thought to shower last night. 
To add insult to injury, since her phone was lost to the depths, Sutton had no way of contacting Vicki to let her know what was going on. Sure the hotel room had a landline, but Sutton had never bothered to memorize Vicki’s number after she’d added it to her contacts. 
She actually did know her mom’s home number, but when she tried to call it the phone didn’t have a dial tone. Her heart rate picked up as she tried several times to no avail. 
It was probably a faulty connection. The hotel was old and small. That was it.
The weather turned too, she noted as she packed up her things. Yesterday had been beautiful, but with it being the off season, poor weather was creeping in, and it only made her feel more anxious. 
With her car packed, she hurried back to the reception desk, ready to finally check out. 
“I’m afraid you can’t.”
Sutton blinked. The manager had a pinched look on his face as he stood ramrod straight and refused to make direct eye contact.
“Excuse me?”
He cleared his throat as his eyes flitted about the room. 
“Unfortunately,” he said, “we have a no refund policy. You’re booked until the end of the week, and I’m afraid that can’t be changed.” 
“You have to be kidding me.” 
But he wasn’t. No matter what she argued, he staunchly refused to check her out of her room and Sutton finally snatched back her card with a heated glare. 
“Fine,” she said, teeth flashing. “Email me the bill at the end of the week then.” 
He didn’t respond as she limped from the lobby and out to the parking lot. 
Sutton sat in her car a moment, just giving herself a chance to breathe. Heading out this early, she should be able to get home sometime after dinner if she didn’t make too many stops. She’d get back home and everything would be fine, and Vicki could have a first hand account for her podcast. That would make up for having to pay for the room for the full week. 
Straightening, she put her key in the ignition and turned. 
She waited. 
Nothing. 
Immediately she felt sick. Her car wouldn’t start and that made no sense. It ran perfectly fine before coming here. She’d filled the tank, changed the oil, checked tires, everything. Sutton smacked the dash a couple times and tried again. The engine didn’t even hiccup. 
“No, no, no, no.” 
She threw open her door and rounded the front as she shoved up the hood. Nothing looked wrong or missing, not that she exactly knew much about how engine’s worked. She jostled the battery cables a little and tried to start it again, but it remained dead. 
Dread creeped through her anew. What if-? 
Her gaze flickered to the hotel entrance. 
No. The locals were skittish, but they wouldn’t try to actively sabotage her. Would they? 
Sutton grit her teeth and grabbed her bag. It didn’t matter if they would or not. She was leaving this cursed town today. 
Luckily she had packed more than one pair of shoes, but it didn’t make up for the cuts she still had from running up the trail from the lagoon. The sky was overcast and she had a light jacket, but nothing really waterproof. Everything felt off kilter and skewed. Like she was living in a growing nightmare.
The town had to have a bus that traveled to the next town over. All she had to do was get on one and find a working phone away from this place. She could get her mom and Howard to come pick her up. 
She didn’t know what she was going to tell them about everything yet. Especially about her new unwanted tattoo. Could she even pass it off? It’d been less than a week since she’d last seen her family and weren’t tattoos red and swollen for a little while?
“Miss? Are you alright?” 
Sutton’s head snapped to the side. A police cruiser kept pace with her and a salt and pepper cop leaned slightly to see her through the passenger side window. She eyed him warily. He didn’t look as spooked as the hotel workers. If anything he looked more stern, which seemed natural with his profession. 
Sutton ran her tongue over her teeth. Her throat was already dry again. She only had so many water bottles left. 
“Um, I- actually, I’m trying to find the bus station,” she said. 
She was tempted to ask for a ride, her feet were killing her, but she was too afraid. The cop eyed her back a moment before he put on a look of confusion. 
“Bus station? I could, I suppose. But it wouldn’t do you much good.” 
Sutton’s throat threatened to close. 
“What do you mean?” 
He tipped his head in what she assumed was the direction of the station. 
“It only comes through here once a week, and you just missed it.”
She could cry. She couldn’t believe it. 
“Once a week? Are you serious?” 
The cop shrugged. 
“‘Fraid so. We’re a small town, you know. Hardly worth the gas for them, I suppose. Not unless it’s tourist season.” He gave her a pitying look then, and Sutton forced herself to hold back tears. 
“I suggest you go get a warm breakfast, drink some water. And rest your feet.” 
 He drove off before Sutton could question his statement. 
--
She only went back to the diner because she was at a loss with how to proceed. And she never brainstormed well on an empty stomach. Plus, she really was thirsty again. Unnaturally thirsty. 
She gulped down an entire glass of water and felt some measure of relief. 
But the food didn’t bring her any comfort. She glanced down at her ankle again and wondered if she ought to find a way to cover the mark up. 
No phone, no car, no bus. Sutton stirred her scrambled eggs around her plate. It felt like the only option left was to walk. 
Walk.
Her blood ran cold yet again. The dead guy in the picture looked like he’d been walking. Walking out of town. 
Sutton pushed her plate away and put her head in her hands. 
What in the world had she gotten into? And how in the world was she going to get out of it?
Could she?
The rain started while she was still picking at her food. Sutton sighed deep in her chest. It might as well. At this point she fully believed she was cursed by whatever was in that lagoon. A rumble came from outside and she lazily looked up to see if some thunder and lightning were being tossed in as well. 
A bus passed the diner and continued down the street towards the main highway. 
Sutton shot up in her seat. 
“That- that-” She shrieked in her throat. “That two-faced liar!” 
She did start crying then. Her lips pressed together even as tears fell. A police officer, a police officer, lied to her face to trap her here. Her breakfast threatened to make a reappearance. 
Every disappearance was from someone out of town. 
‘Human sacrifice’ sparked across her thoughts.
The diner was deathly silent and Sutton realized she was making a scene. Part of her didn’t care. Part of her wanted to scream at them that they wouldn’t get away with this, but it still felt too crazy to say aloud. 
Sutton finished off one more glass of water and went to pay for her food. The woman at the register who had been so friendly the day before now looked petrified. She passed Sutton’s card back, fingers barely touching the plastic, and someone knocked into Sutton’s side as she went to drop the card in her bag. She flashed a glare back, but the person didn’t pause to apologize.
She fled the diner, back out into the rain, and decided to screw it. She was going to go to the bus station and demand a schedule and buy a ticket, and if they really only came once a week then she was going to try her luck walking. 
The rain started to soak through her jacket by the time she found the bus station. There was one elderly man at the ticket booth and she pulled herself together as she faced him. 
“How can I help you, miss?” 
Sutton swallowed back her roiling emotions. 
“I was wondering what the bus schedule is. I was told it was once a week, but I just saw-”
The man leaned back, looking confused. 
“Once a week? Oh, no. That was the schedule years ago. The bus comes twice a day now. You can catch the one this evening.”
If she started crying again, the man kindly didn’t mention it. 
“Oh my gosh, you have no idea how happy I am to hear that. I’ll get a ticket.” 
“One ticket! That’ll be twelve dollars.” 
Sutton dug in her bag for her card, but couldn’t find it blind. She huffed and propped the bag up to properly search through it, but it must have been buried. It shouldn’t be so difficult. She’d dropped it on top of everything in her rush to leave the diner. 
The man waited as Sutton’s search grew frantic. 
“I just had it,” she said. “It- it was in my bag, I swear.”
But it simply wasn’t there. Even when she turned her bag inside out and checked every pocket. It didn’t make sense. She’d paid for her meal, got her card back and- and
And someone had bumped into her. On purpose. 
“I- I think someone may have...stolen my card.” 
The man looked at her with pity. She only had three dollars in cash. 
“I’m sorry, dear.” 
When she stepped outside again the floodgates of heaven opened into a torrential downpour. She could hardly see five feet in front of her, let alone walk the distance to the next town. 
She was a pathetic, soggy mess as she limped back through the hotel lobby, her feet aching and her eyes red. The hotel clerk silently slid her key card back to her over the counter and Sutton grabbed it without a word or even looking at them. 
Nothing felt real. Sutton peeled off her clothes and showered on autopilot. She sat in the room and braided her wet hair back as she tried to process her situation. 
How long until the locals broke down her door and dragged her back to toss her into the lagoon?
She tried the phone again but it was still disconnected. 
Sutton grabbed her can of pepper spray and paced the room. 
---
Hours later she was still winding herself up and trying to talk herself down in a vicious cycle. If she hadn’t braided her hair it would have been standing on end with the amount of times she’d attempted to run her hands through it. 
She was just talking herself down from another frenzy when the worst happened. There was a reverberating knock on her hotel door. Sutton froze. 
Her voice was stuck in her throat, but she wouldn’t have answered even if she’d been able to. 
The knock came again and Sutton rushed to push a chair under the door handle. 
“Um, can you open up? It’s time to go.” 
It was a man’s voice. Deep, if not a little uncertain, and Sutton bit back a scream. This was it. They were coming to drag her away to feed her to a sea monster that she didn’t even believe in twenty-four hours ago. 
“Or, you don’t have to open the door yourself, I guess.” The man said. “Though I know it’s polite to ask.” 
He was taunting her. 
Sutton clutched her pepper spray closer and tried to catch her breath. 
“I’m not going anywhere with you!”
There was a pause and the door handle jiggled. 
“You have to.” The man said. “You’ll be dead by the end of tomorrow.” 
Sutton went weak at the knees, black spots dancing around her vision.
“I’m not-” she choked trying to force the words out. “I’m not going to just let you drag me back to that lagoon. I won’t be the next person offered up in your sick ritual.” 
“You won’t be offered up,” the man said. He sounded mildly befuddled. “I already accepted the proposal.” 
Sutton bit down on her tongue. He already accepted? What did that mean? He got to be the one to throw her in? 
“You accepted.” She bit back. “So, what? You get the honors of taking me to the ocean then?”
“Yes,” he said. He sounded happy. It was sick. “And it’s an immense honor, believe me. You’re perfect.” 
She pressed a hand against her mouth and tried to breath so her heart didn’t explode. He was psycho and if he had his way she was going to end up like Nicholas Cage in that movie with the bees. 
“I’m coming in now,” he said. 
Her heart raced and she moved without thinking.
There were several loud screeches and groans of metal, and then the door handle snapped. She watched as the door eased open and the chair skidded to the side. The man poked his head in and Sutton only caught a flash of him. 
Tall, blonde, no shirt, incredibly well built. Strong enough to pop open a locked door and clearly strong enough to drag her off to be sacrificed. 
She pepper sprayed him thoroughly the moment he spotted her and opened his mouth to say something. 
He yelled in pain, swiping at his eyes as he stumbled back, and Sutton darted through the opening and out into the parking lot. It was still downpouring, but maybe she could use that to help hide her tracks. 
She ran blindly through the rain. Even with water pelting her in the face her throat still felt raw. Another cry of pain and frustration echoed behind her and sent tingles down her spine. 
“Come back, please!” 
Like heck. Let the sea monster eat him instead. 
--
The sky started to lighten from black to gray and it was still raining. Sutton forgot what it felt like to be dry and warm. She didn’t know where she was and it still didn’t feel like there was enough distance between her and the man she pepper sprayed. She thought she might cry if she didn’t get a drink of water soon and her skin was starting to itch and feel oddly rough given she was soaked to the bone. 
Eventually she crouched down in some bushes and cried into her hands. 
They were going to kill her. The man had confirmed it. 
You’ll be dead by the end of tomorrow.
She didn’t want to die. But she legitimately had run out of ideas of how to escape this wretched town. They’d clearly done this before and had their strategy down pat. Sutton had walked in completely blind. 
Someone cursed nearby and Sutton snapped her head up. It was the man. He stared directly at her and she wondered if she’d actually almost made it away from him, because he looked distressed. He reached her before she could take off running again, and she was so exhausted she wouldn’t have made it far even if he hadn’t. 
“I’m sorry, I should have caught up to you sooner,” he said. “You’re already starting to dry.”
Sutton wiggled in his hold, but he kept a firm, yet gentle, grip on her. 
“Hardly,” she snapped. “What’s it matter anyway? Does the sea monster have a preference with its snacks?” 
That made him still. 
“What?” 
Sutton sneered.
“I’m not stupid. Visitors going missing, the weird locals, my leg, that thing in the lagoon. You’re going to use me as some sort of human sacrifice so whatevers down there will leave the rest of you alone.” 
The man sputtered as he looked down at her. His brows furrowed. 
“What in the world-? That thing in the lagoon was me,” he said. “And I- I’m not going to eat you. I feel like there’s some sort of misunderstanding here.” 
“You?” Sutton tried to pull back but he still wouldn’t let her. “You’re the one that tried to drown me?” 
“I wasn’t trying to drown you! I was leaving the Mark. Accepting you as my wife.” 
Sutton went completely still. Her mind tried to understand what he said, but it felt like whiplash. 
“W- Wife?
He nodded.
“How about we try to start over? I’m Steve.” 
“What are you?” 
She was afraid to ask, but she had to. All this time she had no clue what she was dealing with and she was left scrambling. 
“I suppose you’d call me a merman,” he said. His voice was lighter now, like he was pleased with her finally calmly conversing with him. 
“Merman.” Sutton repeated quietly. 
“Can I know your name?” 
Sutton looked up at him as he stared at her with wide, hopeful eyes. Trusting eyes. 
“Put me down first and I’ll tell you.” 
He didn’t look like he approved of that, and she hurried to press the issue. 
“You’re making me nervous, and I- I just need some room.” 
Slowly, reluctantly, he put her down. His hands hovered over her arms as if she would fall over, but she knew it was more likely in case she ran. 
There was a pause and Sutton knew she only had so much time to stall. 
“I’m Sutton,” she said. 
Steve smiled widely as he repeated her name like it was precious. 
It was all ridiculous. They were both standing out in the rain, hair plastered to their faces, and she was actually believing he was a merman set on trying to marry her. 
“Steve,” she explained slowly, “I’m super honored to meet a merman, don’t get me wrong, but I can’t marry you. I have to go home.” 
He frowned again and his hand flinched. 
“The magic is already set,” he said. “You sang in the lagoon, and your voice called to me. You offered yourself and I accepted. If I don’t get you to the ocean to complete the change, you’ll die.” 
“Change?” 
He raised his brows. 
“Well you can’t exactly survive in the ocean as a human. You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed your dehydration. And now look at your poor skin. Nothing will cure that but the ocean itself.” 
She looked down at where he gestured to her arm and noticed the flakey, drying skin for the first time. The itch was only growing and it felt taut like a sunburn. 
“I’m sorry I let it get this far,” Steve continued. “We should go.” 
Sutton took a step back and pulled her arm out of his reach. 
“No. No. I didn’t offer my hand in marriage, I sang along to the radio! I’m going home.” 
Steve sighed. 
“You participated in the magic voluntarily. You can’t be upset that it worked.”
“I didn’t know!”
He looked bemused.
“And not knowing should exempt you? Is that how humans handle their binding agreements?” 
Sutton got the impression he was implying she ought to have read the fine print.
She swallowed and jutted her chin. 
“I should have gotten a warning.” 
“You just said you knew about the disappearances. Was that not warning enough?” 
There were a thousand things she could respond with. That she only came for Vicki’s sake, that she didn’t know the disappearances were due to mermaids, that she could have avoided these “consequences” if the entire town hadn’t conspired against her. 
But they probably wouldn’t help her much. 
She didn’t want to argue with a crazy merman. She just wanted to escape. Her skin was shifting from itchy to painful, and she still felt dehydrated. 
“I don’t care about your magic rules,” she said. “I’m going home.” 
Steve’s jaw ticked before he let out another sigh. Almost like he was resigned. Maybe Sutton actually got her point across.  
“Yes,” he replied. “We are.” 
And then he leaned down, picked her up by the waist, and threw her over his shoulder. 
Sutton shrieked and tried to fight, but she was at an odd angle and she couldn’t get any leverage the way he was holding her legs. He began walking back, uncaring of her struggles. 
“You can’t do this!” 
“I’m not going to let you die. You’ll understand once we get back to the ocean.” 
She hit him in the back with a fist but it didn’t seem to phase him. 
“You can’t heft me like a sack of potatoes. Are you a merman or a neanderthal?”
“If you hadn’t poisoned me, maybe I would have had more time to convince you.” 
“Oh?” She sniped. “But your face called to it, and the pepper spray accepted.” 
Steve deigned not to respond to that. 
He lugged her all the way back to the trailhead of the lagoon and down. Sutton’s resistance was starting to wane. Her throat was bone dry, it was getting harder to breathe, and her skin felt like it might start to split. 
“We’re almost there,” Steve said as he sprinted over the sand. “Just hold on.” 
Sutton saw a few of the sun’s rays on ground as the rain lightened up, and then she was plunged under the water. 
--
She managed to take one last breath before he dragged her under. Sutton flinched as he adjusted his hold on her, straightening her out to face him. But she had her eyes scrunched closed and refused to move. Muscle used oxygen and she couldn’t afford to lose any. 
She also couldn’t afford to not reach the surface. 
“Sutton, you can breathe. That’s part of the change.” 
His voice sounded different underwater, somehow more full, and it startled her that she could understand him enough that she opened her eyes. The water didn’t sting. 
Steve smiled at her, looking relieved, and ran a thumb over her cheekbone. 
“There. You look healthy again.” 
Sutton frowned. Her skin didn’t feel like tearing sandpaper anymore. In fact she felt… good. Her throat didn’t burn. 
But her lungs were starting to. 
She clawed at the water, trying to move up towards the surface, to air, but Steve wouldn’t let her. 
“In through your nose, out through your mouth,” Steve said as he demonstrated. And didn’t he make it so tempting? “You’re going to be okay.” 
The idea of just breathing water went against every survival instinct she had. It wasn’t even just that she didn’t want to, but she couldn’t begin to make herself. 
He might be a merman, but she was human. 
Sutton kicked at him and tried to break free. Steve pulled her closer to himself and wrapped his arms around her. 
“You won’t die.” He said around her thrashing. “Don’t you trust me?” 
“No!” 
She was stupid enough to answer. 
Water rushed into her mouth, down her throat, filled her lungs. Sutton coughed and sputtered and wheezed. 
But she didn’t choke. 
She took in another greedy lungful and- still didn’t die. 
“You can trust me,” Steve said. “I’d never do anything to hurt you.” 
Sutton found herself a bit distracted that she could breathe underwater. Her fingers flexed over his forearms as her eyes darted around.
“Except kidnap me.”
Steve let out an irritated huff and bubbles wobbled around his face. 
“It’s not kidnapping.”
It bothered her that she somehow felt normal again now underwater. It felt like Steve had won an argument. She supposed on that end he had. But it irritated her. 
Her eyes finally focused back on him and found him patiently waiting. 
“I understand it’s an adjustment,” he said. “But I’m going to be by your side the entire time.” 
“Entire time?” It was stranger still to be able to speak. To hear her voice somehow clearly.  “There’s more?” 
His lips tipped to the side and he put his hands on the underside of her forearms as he began to swim backwards. 
“It’d be difficult for you if you had to live with legs the entire time.”
A thrill ran through her and she looked down. Steve had a tail. 
It shouldn’t have surprised her, but suddenly it was all so real. He had a tail. Mermaids were real. 
His tail was a beautiful rich blue with both darker and paler blues speckled here and there as well as accenting his fins. 
“I’m going to have a mermaid tail.” 
“Soon,” he said. “Your body has to adjust to one change at a time. But you will.” 
He was still swimming on his back as he propped her up and took them further and further out into the ocean. 
“I’m still not your wife.” 
He wobbled his head like he disagreed, but didn’t outright contradict her. 
“I know humans have their own courting rituals. And I’ll do everything I can to prove to you we’re meant for each other.” He gave her a smile as he plunged down back over where more land fell away. 
“After all, you still haven’t heard my song for you yet.” 
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lordseochangbin · 4 years
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cats and cuddles- minho
a/n: so this was like one of the first fics ive ever written and i wrote it for a friend so hmm if it sucks im sorry LMFAO i thought it was cute so i wanted to share 🥺🥺
it was late at night when felt a quick snuggle on your chest. of course, the struggle of grabbing your glasses in the dark was real, your hands constantly patting your nightstand till you finally felt the plastic lens slowly putting them on before your cat could jump off your bed.
“fefe? where are you going?!” you watched as the red kitty ran out the door, following behind him as he rubbed his head against the window door.
“you wanna go outside? god this is why i told you go out earlier” you sighed before opening the door, “just goooo” and off fefe went, making an unexpected whimper that brought concern to your eyes.
you watched as the little feline jumped out the window, running through the hidden hole under the fence. you never noticed the cats secret dugout, and even at the middle of the night you wondered of the cats whereabouts.
this wasn’t the first night, you quickly realized, that the kitty had asked to leave so late. quickly grabbed a coat and throwing on some uggs, you ran out into the cold- a flashlight in your hand as you ran around the corner in search of the little guy.
“fefe...? where are you?” you called in a sing-song tone.
this call was only returned by the sounds of the night; quiet, mysterious, indulging. it made you wonder where the hell this little idiot could’ve gone.
almost on cue, you watched as fefe’s small steps ran down the neighborhood road in front of you. “fefe!” you called, running after him in the cold.
⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰
he was having a bad night, i guess you could say. the day before he spent the night contemplating whether or not the girl he was with at the moment was actually the love of his life. the feeling of uncertainty was the worst, and when he called it off with his girlfriend he left the room knowing it was the right thing.
this didn’t settle with his ex however, the house left with shattered glass on the floor as she claimed, “minho! you can never live without me! no other girl would want you!”
the fear driven into his eyes only shuttered as he realized maybe she was right, but she was wrong.
chan reassured him of this later on in the day as he spilled out his worries, reminding him of a question that felix got him considering a few weeks ago. “hyung, do you really like noona?” it was a question that really got him thinking, did he really love her? was she the one for him?
she was allergic to cats, wasn’t a fan of ice cream, and hated books-- especially the harry potter ones. minho knew that 12 y/o minho would’ve threw his girlfriend into a bush when he realized she disliked j.k.rowling’s most amazing works.
this just didn’t settle with him, and the stress began to overwhelm him as he decided to open the door for fresh air. sitting near the window, minho ran his fingers through his hair as he listened to the cool breeze. humming in satisfaction, he let his eyes close shut before he could see the slightest of a figure passing the doorway. 
“binnie!” he exclaimed, running out the door with two jackets instead of one in a sudden hurry.
there the two of you were, chasing after two kittens with no point of direction. simply following the steps of tiny paws as they ran through the dark night. little did you know that an glimpse of fate was behind this, not for you and the boy, but for the two kittens.
you watched as fefe turned a corner, stopping to take a breather before hearing someone yell “oh my god, its two kittens!” panic ran though you as you assumed it must’ve been a cat robber, and with quick instinct you ran the corner to see fefe’s little tail.
“fefe!!!” you ran with all your might, not noticing the male figure in front of you as you picked up the little kitten. 
“ouch” the boy said, rubbing his forehead from the contact. you looked up at the boy, finding yourself in disbelief. how could such a handsome man be a cat robber? 
“look.. p-please dont take my cat” you stuttered to speak, taking a few steps back. 
“what..? oh my god look, this is my cat” you looked down to see another cat, another identical to fefe but jet black fur. 
fefe jumped out of your arms, quick to cuddle with the strange yet attractive man’s cat. “they seem to be very close” you giggled
the boy smiled as he watched them brush their noses against each other, a scene that brought a little bit of warmth to your heart. he crouched down to rub the soft fur that filled fefe’s back before placing his index finger on a certain point that threw him off.
“is that your cat’s birthmark?” cats don’t have birthmarks but um yeah let’s pretend they do ah haha
“yeah!! apparently my kitten had a brother who was adopted and they placed these fake birthmarks in case they ever unite. it probably won’t happen though, i barely let fefe out. and even if it did, i wouldn’t believe it”
minho looked at his cat, and at yours, and back at you- biting his lip as he took a moment to process his thoughts.
“well start believing” minho said as he brought his kitten close to your side and revealed a similar birthmark on the same exact place. “are you kidding?!” you yelped in excitement, leaning down to carry the boy’s cat in your hands.
you shivered in the cold as another breeze flew past the two of you, catching the boys eye as he held his second jacket that he grabbed by accident in his hand.
“here” he stood up, slowly placing the jacket over your shoulders. in the process, you happened to look up at him. you noticed the way his deep brown eyes sparkled. the little birthmark on the top of his nose.
his pouted lips when he was simply thinking or doing something. his lips parted when he noticed you looking right back at him before he could step back and clear his throat. you found yourself snapping out of the moment as well, as the boy went back to pet fefe.
“what’s the name?” you asked.
“my names minho” the boy said, smiling at you as he expected a response
“... i meant the cat” you said, brushing the cats fur with your fingertips
“oh... it’s binnie”
“cute name. and in case you’re wondering im y/n, and this is fefe” you said, taking a second to wonder where the sudden confidence came from before the both of you could exchange kittens and most definitely exchange phone numbers.
⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰
the next day, the two of you met at the place where you adopted the kittens.
“so.. theyre twins” you’d concluded after seeing the felines matching birthmarks and affection for each other.
“they’re like long lost brothers” minho said with a pout as he watched the two play with a piece of string
you looked up at him, only to catch him looking right at you “shouldn’t we keep them together?” minho suggested
you pouted your lips. after all this time you created a strong bond with fefe and never wanted to let him go. he was always the boy to cuddle with your feet as you did homework or sit on your lap as you watched tv. he was someone to talk to in the household and you couldn’t risk losing him.
minho felt the same way about binnie as well. he was a kpop idol in training, and when the stress had overcome him he always found relaxation in binnie’s comfort. he just didn’t want to let him go.
“to be honest, i know they’re long lost brothers or soulmates or whatever and i really want them to be together. but i just don’t wanna lose fefe” you picked up the red ball of fur, cuddling him into your chest as he licked the side of your cheek. minho picked up binnie as well before looking at you with a sort of agreement.
“how about we just meet up every now and then? for the cats” he suggested
“are you sure it’s just for the cats?” you laughed, giving minho a little shove on the shoulder before a dirty smirk could arise upon his lips, “who knows? maybe id like to see you as well” he winked before leaving the shelter.
“ill text you a date and address, you better be there y/n” he waved off before leaving you in utter shock.
did i just... flirt? and it worked?! you squeezed fefe in your hands, jumping up and down in place.
“fefe you just scored me a hot date!!”
all fefe could do was stare at you in absolute confusion, as the cat really didn’t understand a shit you were saying. but you knew what you just went down, minho definitely just asked you out.
⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰
the second he got into the car, he called bang chan.
“oh chan chan chan hyunggg!!!”
“oh god, what happened now?” chan asked, a sense of drowsiness in his voice.
“i think i just scored a date!!”
“YOU SCORED A WHAT?!” jisung exclaimed onto the phone.
“stop being so loud you dumbass” minho responded. “long story short but her name is y/n and she’s seems really decent and pretty and she likes cats and i don’t know her smile is so pretty i just don’t even know what to say i..”
“that mans whipped. deadass” seungmin said, “did you ask her out?”
“i kinda did? im gonna ask her to come to my place”
“WOAHHH there pilot- to your place?! on a first date?!”
“ok ok no it’s a long story so our cats somehow found each other in the middle of the night”
“what?!”
“never mind.. anyways ima ask her to come tomorrow” minho smiled to himself before sending a quick text to you and patting binnie in the seat next to him.
⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰
it was about 5 pm in the afternoon, the sun still hasn’t set but both your cats were eager to meet. it wasn’t just the cats however, you were just as excited to see minho as well and finally return his jacket.
without even noticing it, you kept it on. the warm material on the inside felt comfortable and you knew he must have had good taste in clothing.
grabbing your keys, you ran out the door with fefe on your hands and next thing you knew you were at the doorsteps of lee minhos home.
you took a few seconds to decide whether or not you should actually ring the doorbell before the door could open.
“hey! you can come in” minho laughed, noticing how nervous you seemed outside.
“thank you” you quickly nodded your head and walked inside before fefe could jump out your arms again and join binnie.
“woah..” you couldn’t help but to gasp and the looks of his apartment.
“is that a harry potter poster?!” you exclaimed, running over to what seemed like lee minhos hogwarts merch collection. he had the wand, the posters, and all the books lined up on a shelf.
“you’re a Harry Potter fan?!” minho exclaimed
“yess!!”
“ok count of three name your house” you took a deep breath as minho started the mini countdown.
“1...2..”
“slytherin!”
“gryffindor!!”
“oh fuck you minho, of course you’d be in slytherin” you said, making minho laugh
“hey what can i say? guess i just give off those vibes. now how about some coffee?”
from there the conversation was endless, you both realized you had a lot in common. although minho was more of a singer and you were more of an instrumental player you seemed to bond over music and books. this, minho realized, was something minho always wanted to see in a girl. something he wanted to have- a real conversation. one that he was actually interested in, and he loved getting to know every little detail about you and every small thing he said didn’t fail to make you laugh. you two seemed to be hitting it off and before you know it, the thunderstorm rolls in outside and you realize you didn’t bring minhos jacket.
“oh my god.. i forgot to bring your jacket! from the first day we met?”
“don’t worry about it”
“ahh im sorry, ill bring it next time i promise”
minho jumped in his seat, “wait no! don’t bring it. ever”
“why not?”
“it’ll give you a reason to keep coming back to me” he said, a smile forming on his lips. you couldn’t help but to laugh at how cheesy he was when he smiled, it was so perfect it almost seemed fake. but you knew everything he said and did was from somewhere deep in the heart.
“it’s raining a lot outside, do you just wanna wait until it gets a little better?” minho suggested
“i wouldn’t mind” you said, making yourself comfortable on the couch. minho got up to turn on the apt room heater, grabbing some hot cocoas and blankets for the both of you. the one thing that got you however, was how close he sat next to you when he came back. your shoulders brushed against each other as he threw the blanket on your lap, a light pink blush on your cheeks.
and in a few hours you found yourself resting your head on minho’s shoulder, both of your cats falling deep asleep on your lap as harry potter played on the tv.
“thank you ” minho suddenly spoke out of nowhere.
“for?”
“for... for entertaining me. i don’t know if you realized, but i really like you. i don’t know if the cats thing was something like fate but i really like you”
you looked up to minho as the fingers foudn thenselves intertwining under the heated blanket.
“i really like you too” you whispered before you could kiss the little birthmark on his nose, making minho smile as the movie played on.
⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰
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qtakesams · 3 years
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When Life Goes On, Go with It
Two years ago this month, I moved to Edgewater, Maryland, to complete a summer internship with the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center. SERC, as we call it, is a branch of the Smithsonian Institution that specializes in climate, coastal, terrestrial, and various other types of sciences. Their campus is an hour east of Washington, D.C. They own hundreds of acres of land, on which they house their laboratories and fields.
It was just after my sophomore year of college ended. As with many underclassmen years, mine was turbulent. I endured a drastic shift in my social circle which had, even if temporarily, left me feeling stranded on a campus I was still learning about. I’d had a rough spring semester, finding a lack of motivation to complete any assignment.
Most undergrads face that year: the one where nothing feels right, and each path feels like a dead-end. I had applied for a SERC internship on a bit of a whim. Entering college, I’d seen myself as a fiction writer and editor, planning to end up in a corporate publishing house. Sophomore had shown me I desired other things, and I applied for SERC’s science writing internship completely unsure if I’d actually like the work. What if I didn’t? What if it felt worse than the previous semester? What would I do if I couldn’t bounce back?
All of this, I decided, would be worth the risk. When I got an email from the internship’s advisor in March, offering me the position, I accepted it. The rest, as some might say, is history.
SERC is a hard place to find until you’ve visited a few times. The brown sign is easily skipped by the eyes. Coming from the west, you approach SERC on the left side of the road. Immediately, you forget that you’re technically in the suburbs, less than thirty miles from the epicenter of political heat in America. After a few turns, you arrive at the gate. When SERC is publicly open, you drive on through. When you’re an intern coming back from the bar at night, you have to swipe your ID card. You drive a few more turns, watching closely for deer, before that final right turn that drops you into the parking lot of the intern dorms and the labs.
I fell in love with SERC within days of my arrival. There were the intimidating factors of the place: fellow interns at Ivy Leagues and respected colleges, scientific labs into which the government itself funded millions, no meal plan, and the stick shift vehicle I would drive all summer. I was terrified when my mom drove away. I explored the floor of my building, admiring the kitchen, perusing the book selection. By eleven, I was in bed. I was tried from traveling, but more so, I didn’t know what to do. I’d briefly interacted with the other intern already on my floor, but I didn’t know him well enough to go say hi. There were four interns moved in below my floor, but I hadn’t seen any of them yet. I suddenly seemed wildly out of my element, though I had felt comfortable at SERC the moment I drove through the gate.
Of course, I grew happier at SERC. The happiest I’d been in years. Within weeks, I made strong friends, adjusted to my job, and began to close my GPS when driving to the store.
My work felt good. The articles I wrote and the media I created reached thousands of people, many of which gave positive comments. My words were reaching people, and the people were responding.
I was raised by a scientist, but more importantly, by well-educated, empathetic people. Loving my planet was part of the gig when I was growing up. In high school, I began to see where my privilege in this education existed. My friends at school didn’t seem to care about the things I’d be taught to care about. Water consumption, electricity, knowing the landscape on which your house is built. I knew important moments in history, and how they affected me. I had early knowledge of politics, to the point where I knew who George Bush was before his presidency ended (when I was 10). Ignorance and empathy tend to go hand-in-hand, mostly because ignorance leads to apathy. We’ve seen this cause-and-effect equation hold catastrophic, deadly consequences in 2020.
When I arrived at SERC, it didn’t slip by me that I suddenly had access to information that most people only dream about. Many of us are ignorant (I remain ignorant to 99.9% of what happens on this Earth) by circumstance, not by choice. Accessibility is one of our biggest problems of a global society attempting to function in a digital, climate change-riddled world. Sixty percent of the globe now has Internet access, but that leaves 3.08 billion people without the knowledge they need to protect themselves from the setbacks of climate change. Most of those people, as it would turn out, are terribly affected most by war, poverty, hunger, climate, social injustice, etc. These things intertwine and cause one another. Not always, but often.
My position at SERC gifted me access to science occurring in real-time. When the Pandemic would hit a year later, it would be surprising but not shocking. On a planet where politics and science are brothers, and the population is soaring too high to properly maintain, containing a spreadable virus is like trying to hold a cup of water in your bare hands. Sooner or later, it’s going to slip between the cracks and go everywhere. If it slips far enough, you’ll never find a towel strong enough to collect it all.
In March of 2020, when I moved home to isolate, I knew the rest of college was trashed. Not my degree, necessarily, but the experience of college. I would lose that experience in its normalcy, and therefore the skills which develop from that normalcy.
I did soon realize, however, that we are not always fortunate enough to do something about mass-casualties or problems. There’s not always an answer, straightforward or not. When there is one, you should grab it with both hands.
That summer of 2020, I decided I wanted to pursue a master’s degree after college. Higher education is not unknown in my family; we boast high degrees from prestigious universities. I am the opposite of a First-Generation student (one of my great-grandparents also had a master’s degree). Graduate school had already been on my mind when I started college, but I didn’t know what for. An MFA in fiction had felt the most logical to my teenage self in 2017, but by 2018, that felt out the window. What I had realized by the summer of 2020 was that, in the midst of the chaos and absurdity, was that I could in fact do something about what was going on. I can’t solve climate change, or house the homeless, or save every polar bear, or even eradicate a virus, but I can help in my own way. On some level, I can do something about the many crises. This, in itself, is “doing something”.
Science writing is a polarizing subject, of this I have been aware my entire life. Unfortunately, we’ve made science political, though politics are generally opinion (with strong empathy) and science is fact. It’s a tough, competitive field, but so is everything else. If you want to “make it” in this world, you have to willingly shed blood, tears, and probably sweat profusely. As I watched the COVID cases skyrocket simultaneously to the people I knew who cared not to stay home, I could tell something was off. People weren’t listening. If they were, it was usually to the ignorant voices on television.
I could feel my cheeks burning as I watched the Johns Hopkins map. It seemed cruel that we, as a society, could do that to ourselves. That we could allow this virus to spread and kill, but also that we had put ourselves in this position. I had already been envisioning myself as a science writer every day since my time at SERC had begun. Finally reckoning with the knowledge that not everybody is a scientist, nor cares to be one, was the icing on the cake. I couldn’t fix it all, but I could offer my help. So, I would.
When I began this blog two years ago, it was solely for abroad purposes. It was a fabulous way to let anybody who cared know what I was experiencing and how I was handling those experiences. Studying abroad, no matter how or where or how long, is difficult. Studying in general, for any length of time on any subject, is mindboggling tedious. I give kudos to my friends and family who have any advanced, foreign, or nontraditional education.
What I discovered after I began writing blog posts and sharing my thoughts is that there’s always more to the story than the words on the page. That’s why I’ve added to this blog in the year and a half since my abroad semester ended; there is always more to tell.
In a few weeks, I begin my master’s degree at Northwestern University in Chicago. My degree is in journalism, with a specialization in Science and Health reporting. I’m nervous to my core, as I am with any new adventure. I just graduated college last weekend, so my emotions are running wild. Yet, I have a feeling I’m about to finally be where I’ve wanted to be for years. I love words. I love messing with them, shaping them, using them to fit whatever project I want. I also love science. I love knowing what is happening around me, and why and how it is. Combining them already feels like a dream come true, so I’m sure the next year will feel magical.
The classes of 2020 and 2021 are probably the most resilient in history. A Pandemic, racial and social injustice, wildfires, remote learning, wifi issues. We’ve seen it all, and it’s made us stronger every day.
I think I’ve worn this blog out for this phase of life. My thoughts on what I’ve talked about here are valid and important, but they don’t exist alone. For somebody who’s pretty much been writing since she could hold a pencil, I hate journaling. I’ve tried so many times, and never succeeded, with the exception of this blog. That said, it gave me an incredibly strong, consistent manner of getting my thoughts on the page, for which I am endlessly grateful. If you’ve kept reading my thoughts and words, you should know I’m endlessly grateful for you, too.
All of this is saying that, whether you’re ready or not, life keeps going. Life can be cruel, it can be challenging, it can be beautiful. No matter what, it keeps going. As my friend Ferris once said, if you don’t stop and look around from time to time, you could miss it. So much changed so drastically in the last year. I’m still processing it. I might always be processing it. Most importantly, I think, is that I’ve learned to flow with it wherever it goes. It’s harder sometimes than other, but the result is usually worth the grind.
You might read my stuff in the Times once day, or (my personal favorite dream) National Geographic. I don’t know honestly know where I’m going, but I’m okay with that because I do know that I’m on my way. I’m still going. When life continues, you should go, too. You never quite know where the climb will lead, but you do know that the view will be great.
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redpandahappypanda · 3 years
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**This is a copy of an essay that my step father wrote a few days ago. I find that Alex has a very analytical and nuanced view on these matters. And this is an important issue.**
Jan. 3rd 2020- Jan 3rd - 2021
This was a significant day for me. It was the day we started discussing this new virus showing up in China and the implications of the spread of it. It was a conversation about exponential math and the brutality of that process.
12 months later. to the day, and not only were we right (sadly) but there is another brutal math reality facing us. Let me explain.
Listen, I know this won’t be popular because we’re all still high on the new year magical resolution of a non-covid life again, but the numbers are once again NOT adding up. In fact they are going in the wrong direction faster than this day 12 months ago. Yes, we are in far more peril over the next 6 months than we were 12 months ago.
Put simply, the spread of the disease it outpacing the vaccine efforts exponentially. This is being caused by many factors, not the least of which is no national plan for implementation (only delivery). It’s also being caused by the pandemic fatigue coupled with an unrealistic optimism around the development of a vaccine. This is demonstrated with the record travel over both major holidays. Of course this is also already upside down before taking into account the new “UK Variant” which is thought to spread much much easier/faster.
Put simply, the rate of vaccines (shots in arms) is mathematically dwarfed by the rate of traditional spread of the virus. This number is NOT changing. If anything it’s actually going the wrong way and accelerating. If this trend is futured out it shows that we are still on the path of MAJORITY INFECTION instead of majority vaccination. This only has one outcome. Millions more infected. Hundreds of thousands of more dead. Perhaps millions more effected by long term effects of the virus beyond that.
I would go as far as saying that the existence of the vaccine without a minimally adequate plan for implementation is actually accelerating the spread of the virus and increasing the death count due to the population easing up on precautions because the vaccine is “coming soon”. Well, the vaccine may be coming soon but it’s traveling at 5mph while the virus is accelerating to 100mph.
Look, I’ve already been down this road 12 months ago. I know how people react to bad news and how easily math is dismissed. I’ve heard the “think positive” crowd a thousand times.
So here’s a proposal.
You want to get ahead of the virus… we need an implementation plan that out paces the virus. It’s really as simple as that. A new covid case is found every 3 seconds right now in places like California. You can be damn sure, that shots in arms are not keeping that pace.
So fix it.
Enact a full scale military (FEMA, NG, ARMY,NAVY) medical implementation.
IMMEDIATELY .
We could mobilize full scale medical facilities (tents) in major metro areas in a week or so.
In that facility you need 100 medical troops giving shots.
You need a couple thousand in ‘recovery” rooms where they watch the typical 15-30 min for reactions.
You could watch multiple people for each “observer”. More if you utilize camera feeds.
You could pump out 60,000 shots per day in each facility. (10 hr day)
You need to take over nearby major sports / shopping facilities for parking and then busing patients back and forth.
Organize the demand vs capacity by using ID’s spread the delivery (by last name was example)
You need free up healthcare professionals in the private sector to deal with the emergencies the virus is creating. The delivery of the vaccine doesn’t require the same medical training.
Double the staff… double the output.
Hell, with a smart setup and camera feeds for monitoring, you could up this to 200,000 per day. At that point transportation becomes more of an issue than shots in the arms.
Slow the percentages in major metro areas first and you create extra hospital capacity with weeks.
Once that slows, you use the hospitals and clinics to add to the daily vaccine delivery.
Replicate this setup over multiple metro areas and you double/triple/etc. the implementation.
If you exponentially increase the delivery you then dramatically reduce the uncontrolled spread.
You reduce the uncontrolled spread, you reduce hospitalizations.
Reduce the hospitalizations you reduce the death counts.
It’s math.
It was always math.
It’s still math.
And I am here, 12 months to the day from when we started preparing for this, and I see the same Math being ignored. The numbers are in the wrong direction, and accelerating again in the wrong way.
This is fixable. It is absolutely doable. But it won’t happen unless some “ONE” entity coordinates it. If you don’t have someone coordinating its just a bunch of people running around chasing the emergency of the moment and ultimately losing.
There is your positive thinking.
But math says, if the spread outpaces the vaccine delivery then more spread means more exposure and the pace increases while the vaccine falls further behind.
Want to fix it?
There is a way.
Meanwhile… reality says we look like we are in for a much rougher spring than last year unless someone gets these numbers under control.
That ends Alex's words.
The next is my own. The take away from this is: our job as responsible citizens is not done.
I want to warn. To advise. This vaccine is a wonderful tool. But it is not the magical bullet that ends the pandemic. Social distancing, quarantine, wearing a mask, STAYING HOME whenever and where ever possible is still massively important. This is our new normal folks, for the foreseeable future. Wearing masks; having adequate access to healthcare and vaccinations; giving each other space; smaller capacities in public spaces is (should be) our norm now. Put pressure on your friends, family, colleagues and most importantly your political representatives, to do the right thing.
And here is the rub. This is not going to be the last pandemic in our lifetimes. Covid-19 and its new viral strains are not going away. We are more likely than ever to see more deadly viruses to pop up.
The after-effects of this virus are going to be far reaching; socially, politically, physically. We need to acknowledge that, the sooner the better.
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seokjinchuriki · 4 years
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Hit Deep | knj
Pairing: Namjoon x Reader
Word Count: 1652
Genre: not sure what it’d be categorized as-
Summary: you can’t shake the feeling of loneliness and namjoon is there to try to help
Warnings: hitting rockbottom
a/n: honestly i’m going through something similar to this and it’s helping me to write it out, so the ending is stoopid
Hit Deep Cherry Blossom
When you hit rockbottom, life feels like it's reached its end. For you, yeah, it feels as such, the pains of your life taking over in the most unexpected ways.  College should've given you more freedom than the life you lived with your parents, who, at this point, have a six month old baby. For a small portion of your life, that baby was your responsibility, almost as if she was your own. It wouldn't have been too surprising, you've reached an age where the possibility of pregnancy is prominent, especially since this is where you're most reckless.
You'd think the responsibility of taking care of other people would go away, but it has yet to. You have your roommate, who you once called your best friend, who requires constant care and coddling. You say once called your best friend because, right now, you feel more like her mother more than anything else.
You don't know who you are anymore.
And that's the most scary part.
You sat in the library, rubbing your face, you were stressed to say the least. It was midterm season and every class you took made you feel as though you were losing the sanity you had.
It was like the world finally found the one person they can beat up, without consequences, and that person was you. Sitting here, feeling like you might cry from the amount of built up emotions in your system.
When you feel like you've taken the part of someone's mom, especially someone whose emotions are harder to keep at bay, you lose the ability to share your own and you're stuck being like an closed jar, unable to open up and it's hard, it's hard to breakdown when nobody can see it. Not even the people you hold closest to you because if they did, your strong façade would break and everything you worked so hard for would disappear.
Before you could continue to think, you heard a chair shuffle around you, the sound of someone placing their backpack on the table.
"Hi, is this seat taken?" asked a surprisingly calm voice, one that caught your attention immediately.
"Huh? Oh, no... you can sit here, if you uh- would like to." You say, your voice betraying you a bit, the man who stood behind the chair beside you was breathtaking and the fact that he chose to sit beside you when there were so many other seats beside many other more interesting people was beyond you.
He gave you a smile, sitting down in the seat he had already pulled out.
"I'm Namjoon, and you are?" he greeted you, for some reason, catching you by surprise.
"I'm (y/n.)" you greeted back, he nodded, opening up the book he pulled out of his bag and placed it onto the table.
You both sat in silence for a while, you debating whether or not you wanted to make small talk, him randomly highlighting sentences in his textbook.
He was gonna regret not actually reading, but he really wanted to talk to you. He's seen you around and vise versa, but you never seem to pay attention to him, always deep in thought, you looked so tired, but despite that, you were breathtaking. You had a story to tell him with your eyes, to tell anyone with your eyes.
Okay, Namjoon, just talk to her, he said to himself and he did. Following his own advice.
"So... what's your major?" he asked, and you were shaken out of your homework-induced trance.
"I uh- I'm a biochem major," you let out, rubbing your tired eyes, either you were sleeping with your eyes open or just really, REALLY focused on your work. It was the former, but not that you'd let a complete stranger know that, "what about you?"
"Philosophy major, very exciting!" the sarcasm in his voice was prominent and it made you chuckle, "I bet chemistry is way more exciting, you must be really smart!"
"Pfft, me? Smart? You're very funny, Namjoon. I can agree that chemistry is a bit more exciting, I remember I went with a friend of mine to meet up with his philosophy professor to gain more information," you paused to take a breather, talking to long is exhausting, "and man... his professor kept glancing at me and finally, he brought me into the conversation and I did not understand anything he was saying. You're the smart one here."
"Yeah... You're talking about Professor Min, wait... there's a lot of Min's here, Professor Min Joohyeon, right?" Namjoon asked.
You nodded, "the man knew I wasn't into philosophy! You can see it in my cold eyes."
For some reason, talking to Namjoon was so easy and that's how your friendship started.
It has only been a few months since you met Namjoon, but you were both attached by the hip already, he was a great friend. In a way, he replaced the void your best friend left when she started treating you like you were her mom and it was refreshing. He was refreshing.
He didn't expect you to do things for him. He didn't discourage you when you wanted to try new things. He was a breath of fresh air in your world of pollution.
"That's crazy, (y/n)! You have to accept! You have to join in on the research!" Namjoon exclaimed excitedly, you had just told him that your chem professor had offered you to join in on some research and you might end up getting published, you were really excited, but your best friend discouraged you on it, saying that you wouldn't have time to do anything, or more specifically have time to take care of her.
Here Namjoon was, telling you to go on and do the things you dreamed of doing, but he was also giving you advice, telling you it was your choice and that if you knew you could do it and wanted to do it, go for it!
"You can't let people tell you what to do, especially when it's your life, my friend. It would be a shame not to take these opportunities." Namjoon was right. You do need to take these opportunities. You do need to do the things you want.
And so you did, you told your professor you did want to join in on the research project.
You were happy, you weren't as stressed as everyone said you'd be. Maybe just a bit stressed, a little hard to manage, but you weren't dying in work like you thought you would be.
You were thriving.
Today, however, you were not. You sat on the bed of your dorm, typing away at your computer, until your roommate comes in, immediately complaining about her day. Just yesterday, the both of you had went to dinner, she decided that night would be the night to pay, and you were ecstatic because you were usually the one paying, but you weren't happy that long.
She complained. She complained about the $50 meal. When you were around busting your ass off and paying for $100 groceries without any complaint. You drove her around. You paid for most of the groceries in the dorm. You basically wrote her essays for her. You bought her food. You let her vent her feelings and gave her advice, which she didn't listen to... at all. She wasn't very supportive of anything you wanted to do, when you were completely supportive of her.
You were always there for her, and what about her for you? Maybe she believes she's there, but she's honestly draining you, draining you more than she said the research would.
You were tired.
She complained about everything and anything that happened, about the boy she talked to, who she knows is going through a hard time, hasn't texted her back. About things you constantly give her advice for.
"Soomin, I was waiting for you to come home to make sure that you knew there's food in the fridge, I'm gonna go study at the library. See you later?" You said quietly, a smile on your face as you packed up your laptop. She said a thank you, nodding her head, and plopped down onto her bed.
You said a tiny goodbye and left, making sure you had your room key and ID so you could get back into the building once you were done.
You were meeting the lovely Kim Namjoon, and actually not to study this time! Just to talk and enjoy coffee.
Everything about the little cafe you both sat in was beautiful, from the way the lights hung and the way everything was set up. You were beautiful too, which Namjoon thought, with how relaxed you sat in front of him. You were usually always so tense, but not right, not when you're with him.
Your eyes, however, betrayed your body.
Deep down, no matter what, the loneliness never seemed to go away.
It was like you were drowning, in a pool of all your doubts and worries, but there was never one thing you could just... place. You couldn't shake the feeling away and Namjoon knew that.
The world tends to turn its back on people, even the people who don't deserve it, especially you. The girl who spent her life taking care of other people and not taking care of yourself.
You weren't together yet, but Namjoon knew he had to take care of you. You deserve it. You deserve every ounce of love and appreciation and while he can't do it as a lover, for now, he can do it as your friend.
Namjoon was determined to erase the loneliness from your eyes, even if it takes a long time.
While the scariest part is that you don't know who you are anymore, when you hit rockbottom, the only way you can go is up.
a/n: this is kind of stupid?? i dunno
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creatingnikki · 4 years
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Dearest Lydia,
I just finished eating fresh cut strawberries drizzled with (read: drowned in) Hershey’s chocolate. Before that I sent a 20-minute long voice note to a dear, dear friend where I was questioning everything. And hence reading what you wrote – Whenever my anxiety kicks in and I find myself having to find out meaning in everything all over again – hit me right in all the feels that I have ever felt. It’s also pretty frustrating because I genuinely had a very nice day like I often do and yet I find myself losing meaning, hope and desire in everything and everyone and have to find it in me to be the one to guide myself back to it – whatever of it I have – and cheer myself up.
It’s exhausting and I don’t know how many times I will have to do that. But hey, we have people who genuinely love us and food that are tongues go crazy for and words…words like these that we can use to connect with people we have and will in all probability never meet but can still send love and hope to and in turn feel loved and hopeful ourselves. And that has to definitely mean something, right?
You said that you fantasize about not existing but not like in a suicidal way and I get that? Sort of. Of course this is a whole different thing and I may sound absolutely crazy if I share this but that’s exactly why I will go ahead and tell you – because I think, in some way, you will understand. When I was a child, like 5 or 6 years old, I used to spend my evenings with my older sister, who was probably 8 or 9 at the time, and our nanny on the rooftop of our apartment building. My sister would ride my bicycle – a dangerous place for a child to do so, now that I think about it, but our nanny would run after her all the time – and I would sit close to the edge – wow, our parents should have fired her – and watch the sun set and the sky change its colours a dozen times and I remember thinking…what if I just jumped off right now?
I think right about now it’s important to tell you that I was a pretty happy child with a normal family and life and at that point I hadn’t experienced anything traumatic that would make me want to kill myself. But at that point the concept of death…I don’t think it was clear to me because well neither was the concept of life. Obviously, I was like 6! But I do remember the reason I wanted to die – I wanted to know what happens after death! It was plain curiosity. I needed to know to a point that I thought what if I just jump off? But even at that age, by some weird logic, I knew that life is something precious and I can’t take this risk.
Now that I have actually articulated that a 100 questions are popping up in my head. Like is that why I had such few friends? What went on in my head? I was fucking weird from the beginning. And I say that with some sort of pride mixed with concern mixed with awe for my younger self. This quote from this k-drama comes to my mind:
We don’t even know where we’ll go in life, so how would we know where we go after we die? We all live without knowing anything and die without knowing anything.
And that last part…we live without knowing anything and die without knowing anything…is that is true, and by now I can tell that is probably is, then why do we make ourselves go crazy about trying to figure it all out? I think because even if it’s all meaningless in the end and we all die anyway, this life, whether it’s our first, our last or our only, whether it’s short or long – we have to live it. And to live we have to find meaning in the things we do daily, in the people we interact with and especially when we say – I love you.
And you have someone to say that to, in fact, you have two precious people – your husband and your best friend. Hearing about the little things your husband does for you and how you both are trying to create a family absolutely warms my heart. As a teenager, I always strongly voiced my personal desire to never have that. Now, of course, I can see a lot of it had to do with never believing I would find anyone worthy enough to do that with and fearing being subject to sacrifice and oppression like most women I know have.  And I’m not quite sure where I stand on that now, as a 23-year-old, but I can understand that it can be a very beautiful thing. And I send a lot of love, hope and meaning your way. I hope you can feel it when you need it the most.
Nikki
I wrote this letter for Lydia based on some questions they answered. You can read the questions and their answers here. 
Guys - I have received 29 people’s responses for The Love Project - 29 days of love letters. So I won’t be accepting anymore, however, you can read other letters here.
I may do this again later in the year and if you would want to receive a love letter from me then, you can drop in your email ID here xoxo
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erikismybitch · 5 years
Text
Waiting In Vain: Chapter 17
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Happy Birthday Marley.
A man named Peter sat in the passenger side of the unmarked car . Waiting for the signal from his partner to go inside of the building . He got a peek at his hair in the rear view mirror. The straight red strand had somehow sprung free from the slick style that he always wore . That was unacceptable , Peter prided himself on perfection. He pushed it back using the spit from his hands . His phone buzzed with a signal , it was time to go .
He walked inside of the building , the side door that displayed “Steinway” bright and red right across from it . He spotted her , the girlfriend of his partner. Peter had forgotten her name , but he had seen so many pictures of her before . He thought she was pretty, but black girls weren’t his thing . He was from the Netherlands, there weren’t many where he came from . He walked fast, careful so she wouldn’t see his face. He bumped right into her . Hard enough so that she wouldn’t feel him snatching her work badge ID card off of her hip.
“Excuse you, fucking jackass!” He heard her shout from behind .
Without looking back, he made it out of the doors . And back into the unmarked car where his partner sped off down the street and into safety .
“Your girl , she has a fooking mouth on her” Peter mentioned how she had cursed him out when he bumped onto her . In his ever so prevalent accent.
“She don’t talk to me like that” he laughed, then looked behind him to make sure that no car had followed them. He was sure they were safe, they were very good at what they do. They reached a secluded area near the docks . Where Peters car awaited him. He hoped out quickly.
“Don’t be fucking late tonight. We fuck this up we good as dead” Erik shouted .
“You’re the one who has something to lose here, make sure yoou’re not late” Peter got inside of his car .... well, the burner car that he was using . Neither he or Erik used their actual cars, for what they were about to pull, they had to be smarter about things .
“Yeah, aight” he mumbled to himself, knowing Peter couldn’t hear him. He sped off anticipating tonight.
-
-
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The Steinway company had been robbed . Secret files that contained the blueprints and all codes of their security systems were gone. With that Information in the wrong hands it could be detrimental. The company would lose millions of dollars . The protection of the banks were compromised. The governments systems could breach and be an open field for terrorism .
The owner of Steinway couldn’t figure out how the team he paid millions could let this slip under the cracks. He and the FBI agents sat in the conference room. They had watched the surveillance video of the two culprits. They were clearly male , but because their faces were covered their identities were unable to be exposed. One had a key card, at which he scanned to create access to the elevator. The card had belonged to an employee .
Marley
Who’s card didn’t give her access to the 12th floor. Which held what the two criminals needed. The men still reached the floor by tampering with the controls . That let the investigators know that they were dealing with professionals.
Marley was rushing like always and had just walked into the Steinway building . She fumbled through her brown neverfull bag and realized she didn’t have her badge . “Fuck!” She hissed . Her day was already starting off with a bad start . Marley had no idea what was in store .
“Mam step to the side please” Security used his hand signal to guide her away from the elevator.
“You know I work here” Marley gave an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes. “You see me every morning, your Phil , you told me about your twins who just won a soccer championship” she went on , not understanding why he couldn’t just let her in. They were almost two of the only people of color that worked there, they talked daily.
“You know I know who you are. They just told me to bring you to twelve when you got here” he told her . Twelve is what they called the Twelfth floor . The floor she was told that unauthorized employees were not allowed to go.
“For losing my badge ?” she questioned , the security guard led her into the elevator. He waited until the doors shut before he spoke again.
“Nah , we got robbed” he told her.
“Fuck does that have to do with me? “ Marley face him a once over .
“I don’t know” his hands went up in defense. “Apparently they used your badge to get in and everything ”
Marley’s face washed with fear , she wanted to sink to the floor. The security knew she had nothing to do with it , or she was an giving an Oscar worthy performance. “I don’t know- I don’t know how they got it” she stuttered with her chest clutched.
“Tell them that”
The elevator doors opened , two burly white men with suits awaited Marley . The clear cords were connected to earbuds in their ears . They were taller than her , and intimidating . The silence made all of these thoughts run through Marley’s head . And none of them were good . She was instructed to follow them to a room. The Suits escorted her up to a seat. Right in the center of several people . A few that she had seen around the building, some sitting with FBI badges on their jackets and the company owner. Who looked at Marley as if he wanted to break her neck .
A badge member introduced himself and his peers . Then he informed Marley about the situation at hand . And exactly why they brought her up . Before she could defend herself , the agent asked her to watch the video .
The agent played the footage from yesterday. Her birthday . She saw herself in the lobby , getting bumped into by the man. The video paused and the agent pointed to the screen .
“Here is where he took your badge off your hip , you should have noticed” the owner voiced, with so much anger expressed in his voice.
“I don’t know who that guy is, or why he took my badge” Marley’s pulse was raging . “I swear to god , I had never seen that man before yesterday”
They said nothing yet , but they played the rest of the video . Marley was so confused . There were a few people with badges on, she didn’t understand why she was chosen . The agent turned the video off .
“Can you describe anything that you remember about the man that bumped in to you?” One of the agents questioned.
“Just that he was white with red hair , in a rush and had a tattoo of the Netherlands on his arm”
Marley watched as they wrote a few things down . “Which arm?” the same agent asked .
“I think it was his left”
“You think? And how could you see the flag that fast . I think she knows exactly who he was !” The owner stood from his seat .
“I don’t know him!” The tears were welting up . Marley was afraid that if she let them out , they would perceive her as guilty. The owner was asked to take a seat and allow the FBI to continue the investigation. Marley was not a major suspect and there was no way they could prove she knew the gentleman for now . After they asked her a few more questions , the agents left. Leaving Marley alone with the Owner and what she thought to be his female assistant.
“It is company policy to take off the badge before you enter lobby” He said. Marley knew this to be true, they reminded employees each day . But she never removed it , she was always too lazy . “For reasons like these . We have to let you go” he continued . Her heart dropped. Let me go?
“But I see people with badges on all the time . Somebody in the video had on a badge !” she pointed to the screen trying to defend herself. The owner wanted no part of it . His tone was as condescending as he was arrogant.
“But theirs didn’t get taken...did it?”
His assistant coughed loudly , her underlying way of signaling him to stop while he was he ahead .
“I made a mistake that everybody does, and you want to fire me for it ?”
“It doesn’t ma-” He tried to speak again but Marley interrupted him.
“We have proof that I wasn’t the only person wearing a badge that moment. I’ll fight this in court” she bluffed , like she saw in movies. Marley knew she couldn’t afford a lawyer . It just sounded good . The owner had probable cause to let her go , but not in this way. She knew that this was wrong.
The owner and his assistant whispererd a few things to eachother . His tone was much calmer when she spoke again .
“Three months severance pay if you leave”
Marley pretended to hide the shock in her face. She didn’t think it would actually work .
“Four months and if my next job calls. I was laid off not fired “
The owner agreed and let Marley know that Human Resources would contact her later . She was instructed to clear her desk and leave the building . In doing that , it seemed like the news of her “involvement” with the robbery had spread throughout the company . Everybody was watching her . It was like the situation with Tiana all over again. Marley had literally walked in to work with hopes of having a good day , and within a matter of seconds her day had spun out of control.
She got inside of her car and let out a much needed scream . She had actually liked this job . She saw longevity in the company , and even had hopes of one day moving up . Now, she was back at square one . Severance pay would only last so long , she would probably have to pick up extra shifts at the bar .
She called Erik, and as soon as he heard the hollowness in her voice , he was there to save her . Marley went straight to his home . Where he let her in with open arms. He offered her food , she wasn’t hungry . Maybe they could watch a movie , but Marley wasn’t interested. She just wanted to lay in Erik’s bed and reflect . And maybe take a nap of the braid permitted .
She felt his bed move , looking down she could see his bare back . Stretching her legs, she rubbed her toes along his spine . “Feeling better?” He asked her , she could tell he was looking at his phone .
“Not really , I feel kind of lost”
“Huh?”
“I made a small mistake, that turned into something massive. It was out of my control and yet they still treated me like it was my fault”
Erik’s phone rang and interrupted her , he denied the call and laid on his back . He was eye level to Marley’s legs . So he rubbed on them .
“It’s other jobs, Mar”
“Where’s the compassion” she screwed get face, he chuckled .
“I’m just saying”
“You saying what though , Erik?” She brought her legs up to her chest , so he could stop . But Erik snatched them back down .
“Chill out”
“Chill, do you know how humiliating it was? They even had security escort me out” she sat up and rested along his black wooden headboard . “What am I supposed to do now?”
“Let me take care of you”
Marley had only asked that question generally. She didn’t expect Erik to generate an answer , especially one like that .
“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself”
Erik turned his body so he could face her completely. He looked up at her face . “You really don’t have to, I got you”
“I thought you liked the fact that I did things on my own and worked hard”
“I did , but things change”
Marley gave a long drawn out breath. “This sounds all good now , but what if we don’t work out . What would I do then ?”
His phone rang again, so he didn’t respond to her . The name flashing on the screen caught Marley’s attention. He denied the call again.
“Who is Rain ?” Marley asked . They could continue their previous conversation later . “Why won’t you answer the phone ?”
“Rain is my sister”
Marley’s eyes went round . “You have a sister?”
“And a mom”
Erik said as if it was normal . And since he didn’t make a big deal out of this , Marley held in what she really wanted to say . From what she knew , Erik didn’t even have a family.
Maybe he was ready to talk about it .
“My sisters name is Rain and my mothers name is Ruby....” he started . Marley was all ears . She let him rant , even if it wasn’t about anything , she let him talk . He told her a little about where he came from , and how he grew up. And how he hadn’t spoken to them in a long time . He and his sister were close . Being the bigger person, he reached out to them and now they were trying to build their relationship back . Erik and his mother got into a big argument and his sister sided with his mother. Apparently it was something so serious , that cutting ties was a mutual decision.
“What was the argument about” Marley asked softly . She really wanted to know . Marley could never see herself never speaking to her mother if she was alive .
“Something I did” he said it as if that was it . With no real explanation.
“Erik ? “
He closed his eyes and shook his head , the clenching of his jaw told her that he wasn’t ready to answer that question .
“Your dad , what about him”
“He’s dead , died a while back “
“I’m sorry “
“We had more bad times than good , my dad and I...So don’t be sorry”
He got off of the bed and walked away . She could see him in the kitchen, he reached in the freezer and grabbed a bottle of of something . He poured some in a glass . Marley figured it was alcohol. He took a gulp and groaned.
“That’s good your talking to them” Marley spoke loudly so he could hear her from the other side .
“I missed them”
It was silent. Marley though that Erik had shared enough , it was good though . Progress , since she had told him about every aspect of her life . Except for Trey , she didn’t bring him up much . Erik didn’t like talking about exes . He hadn’t told Marley about any of his, which didn’t bother her much either .
“Erik?” She called out . He didn’t say anything so she yelled his name again. “Erik!”
“I love you too”
“I-” Marlet realized that it was his first tune actually saying it back to her . She had forgotten the real reason she called him . She was glad he was in the other room , so he couldn’t see the big dorky smile plastered across her face .
“You what?”
“I’m about to take a nap” was the only response she could think of quickly. She covered her body in his blankets . Thankfully, that made her feel so much better .
——
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agentunwin · 5 years
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What do you think of infiteshawn?
ok by very popular demand dsjks i will finally explain myself regarding this
so the other day i called her weird and annoying and i still feel the same; for a few reasons.
one; when i first got here she and flickershawn were some of the first ppl i followed and she would always answer anons like “boring” i guess when the anon wasnt interesting enough so i was like ok thats :/ but ok whatever. after like a month or 2 we actually were friends for a while and it was cool o whateva but ill never forget this one text she sent me where she was basically telling me i had to read rm bc people were “losing their shit” over a certain part and it just felt rly weird bc it felt like self-advertisement but thats just how i interpreted that so i was like okay whatever again.
then the weirdness rly started when she started posting about her boytoys. i even enabled it for a little bit asking her q’s about him bc at that point we were still friends but then it spiraled tf out of control and i took a step back and was like what the fuck. sis was straight up posting his pics, saying his name and the area they live in, sharing all their private conversations.. all without him knowing. like yo selfies and all your personal convos are just OUT THERE for THOUSANDS of people and you don’t even know. that’s fucking creepy. after that i said 
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hm whats next. i guess ill dabble in a lil sumn sumn here; she’s obsessed w being the prettiest and only redhead on shawnblr and its super weird. like ignoring-people-until-you-think-they-threaten-your-beauty weird. thats all ill say about that
uhh i hate those holier-than-thou posts she always makes. (SHORT VERSION OF THIS STORY) someone told me of the time she went off and practically had her followers attack a writer over a stalker/creepy(?)!shawn story they wrote, saying its not appropriate (To each their own opinion) and that they needed to take it down and she highlighted all the parts she found disgusting but the person was asleep at that time so u can imagine how that went. but i just thought that was funny considering she then later voted on Nextdoor, my stalker!shawn story so what was all that attacking of that (way smaller blog) really all about.
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you know what was also genuinely HILARIOUS to me? when her and fs would get into yet another argument and sarah would send april asks but april had the blog tracker on (which i also have- hi sarah) and she could see that sarah was the one sending her the anons but she still denied it like that shit really SENT ME and then she tried to play the victim tuh NOT IN MY HOUSE!
there is SO much im leaving out bruh but ive been typing this for so long lmaoo ill say this one final (not rly) thing;
Why the fuck has roommates been going on so long bro. Like honestly, why. What for. I get its cute o whateva but that series has literally been going on since before i joined shawnblr in September. That’s over 8 months. I thought it ended like 3 months ago and I would never have to see anything about it again but then the extra blurbs and shit like HO, MY GOD. I’ve never seen anything that dragged out in my fucking LIFE PLEASEEE. I blacklisted it and it still shows up on my dash all the time I cant escape. 
some extras:
-the blurb she wrote that was just actually a detailed account of sex she had w some dude? wack
-the “queen of shawnblr” shit? like literally entering a gc saying “the queen has arrived” even IRONICALLY? even if its supposed to be funny? wack
-lying on shawns friend o whateva that bullshit was? wack
-the overly woke attitude she puts on sometimes?? wack
-the fact that so many people on shawnblr agree w me? great, amazing, lol. im not pulling this shit all out of my ass, yall. im not the only one. 
as some closing remarks id just like to say:
i admit wholeheartedly to being a fake bitch towards the end of our friendship. in fact ill expose myself here:
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I was lying my ass off in these so YES i was fucking fake i own that shit. but now we both have each other blocked and its a mutual dislike soooooo…. happy ending!
SEE YA!
edit: im not arguing with anyones son NOR daughter over this its my last day on shawnblr think i care!!!
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clarabosswald · 5 years
Text
this week on gallifreybase: my attention’s been turned to a brilliant post summarizing all the unmade episodes in new doctor who some of which i knew about, some i didn’t i love this kind of behind the scenes stuff to death so here is the post under the cut for everyone to enjoy
Series 1 -The Paul Abbott episode Originally in RTD's Series 1 Pitch document, Episode 11 was just called "The New Team" and just said "The Doctor, Rose and Jax. A small scale adventure, character stuff" presumably to be written by RTD himself. Then it was retitled "Pompeii" after RTD saw a documentary on the event and thought similar SFX could be used a Who episode. Then Russell managed to tempt his friend, successful showrunner Paul Abbott to write an episode. So the pitch document for Ep11 was re-titled "Paul Abbott Episode" There's no evidence that Abbott used the Pompeii idea. Instead, according to Russell, Abbott's story pitch was that Jax would discover that the Doctor had been secretly manipulating Rose's life, in order to make her the perfect companion and there would be conflict over whether to tell her. RTD was hesitant over the idea, because it ruined his own plans for the Doctor & Rose, but he allowed Abbott to continue to develop it. However after a few weeks it became clear Abbott wouldn't have the time to do the episode, Russell replaced with his own script "Boom Town" Series 2 -The 1920s by Stephen Fry In RTD's Series 2 story outline, Episode 11 was called "The 1920s" and was to be written by Stephen Fry, partly based on research for his film "Bright Young Things" The episode was also based on the story of "Gawain and the Green Knight" giving the story new alien origins. It included a scenes of the TARDIS landing on a strange planet. It was reportedly set in 3 different time periods (incluiding the 1920s) The story apparently involved the Gawain character falling in love with Rose in the wrong narratative order for viewers, and for Rose herself. However, late in 2006, it was decided that the story was too expensive for this point in production and it was pushed back to Series 3 & replaced with "Fear Her". It has also been said there were issues with violence. Unfortunately by 2007, Fry didn't have time to rewrite the script further or alter it for the new companion and so he wrote a letter to RTD and it was abandoned altogether. Some have said (off the record) that the script's tone was was very different from RTD episodes, closer to the Classic Series (e.g. It began with the Doctor & Rose playing chess in the TARDIS by candlelight) in 2011 Fry has said he would like to re-use the idea, taking out the Dr Who elements and turning into a novel, when he has the time, but since then nothing has happened. Series 3 -Ood story by Chris Chibnall After his first successful year show-running Torchwood, Chibnall was invited to write for Dr Who, Series 3 Episode 7. He told Starburst Magazine "Russell said, “Come and write this episode"... It was one with the Ood, and it had Zack and Ida from The Impossible Planet, and it was like going to see what had happened to them afterwards. There were tiny elements of it in Planet of the Ood but it wasn't the same story. And so we did a lot of planning on that; and it was an alien planet. And then I finished all my writing duties on Torchwood and we had the meeting and it was like, "Actually we can't afford to do that. We need an episode set in corridors, with no monsters, because we couldn't afford monsters. That's probably why there are no real aliens" Series 4 -The Suicide Exhibition by Mark Gatiss This was planned for Penny's (later Donna's) Episode 3 (which was later swapped with "Planet of the Ood") RTD's Series 4 breakdown describes this as "World War 2. Monsters on the loose in the Natural History Museum as a Nazi strike force invades...Plus an Indiana Jones-type chamber hidden beneath with sliding stone doors" Gatiss said the story was based on how, during the war, museums would put out less well-known exhibits, so that if they were bombed they wouldn't lose any great treasures-Suicide Exhibitions. He also said the monsters were based on the preserved bog-men found in the museums, like "The Lindow man" "After the first draft, Russell said, "Let's make it the Nazis and do the full Indiana Jones on it." The whole museum was a puzzle box of sliding doors and traps and stuff." Gatiss worked on the script for a year, and a script was ready to film, but when the production team discovered it'd be possible to shoot an episode overseas, the story was abandoned in favour of "Fires of Pompeii" -Century House by Tom MacRae An companion-lite episode. The Doctor goes live on reality TV show "Most Haunted" to track down a ghost known as The Red Widow. Donna & her family watch him at home on TV. It was set in a big old, abandoned, spooky house on a cliff top, with OB vans and tricks with cables rings around the house. Certain rooms would flashback to the 1950s/60s. There was a big fire sequence towards the end. If I remember correctly, MacRae compared moments in the episode to Sapphire and Steel. This was an idea RTD originally gave to MacRae to develop for Series 3 (so Martha and her family) Unfortunately they found there wasn't a place for it there, so it was held back for Series 4, episode 8. Unfortunately, despite MacRae working on it for over a year, RTD and the team were concerned that the setting was too similar to "The Unicorn and the Wasp" and that the concept they had given him wasn't strong enough. Shortly before pre-production, RTD challenged himself to try to come up with something better in a few days, and ended up quickly writing "Midnight". In a later interview, MacRae was quite sanguine about this, saying that if his episode had to be replaced, he was glad it was with one of the best. The Specials -Space Opera/Alien Hotel by Gareth Roberts and Russell T Davies One of RTD's earliest ideas for the 2009 Easter special would be have to the TARDIS arrive in the middle of an interstellar war, complete with aliens, spaceships, and dogfights in space. He gave this idea to Gareth Roberts who wrote an outline. RTD has issues with the result, including later scenes set in an outer space hotel where guests were having alien eggs secretly implanted (a gruesome reference to easter eggs) So the story was abandoned in favour of what became "Planet of the Dead" -A Midwinter's Tale by Phil Ford and Russell T Davies A grandmother (possibly to be played by Helen Mirren or Judi Dench) is trapped in a posh hotel with her unruly family at Christmas. Wishing that they'd all just disappear, she storms out, only to find the corridors deserted, her family has disappeared, and as she searches further, so has all of humanity. Finally, she comes upon the TARDIS and the Doctor. Investigating, they discover eight-legged centaur-like creatures abroad in London. It transpires that aliens from another dimension, the Shi'ar, have frozen time on Earth in order to hold a festival celebrating the marriage of their queen. The life of the grandmother's family becomes endangered, culminating in a race through secret tunnels beneath Buckingham Palace. This was a story idea by RTD given to Phil Ford, planned for when there would've been only 3 specials: Easter 2009, Christmas 2009 and the Doctor regenerating at Easter 2010, leaving a few weeks before Series 5. "Midwinter" would be the Christmas special. Eventually it was decided there wasn't enough incident for an hour. "Waters of Mars" was developed instead, which was then moved to November with a new two-part Christmas regeneration. Series 5 -Death to the Doctor by Gareth Roberts This was originally planned for Series 5: Episode 7, the "Amy's Choice" slot. According to Gareth Roberts on Twitter,it was set on a Holiday planet like Las Vegas in middle of huge star war. The planet totally peaceful, with the law rigorously enforced. , There were police robots called Fleetfoots. If anyone committed any crime they had to fight a duel with a giant cyclops, and then the Doctor got arrested on a minor offence... Amy and Rory would have to find a way to get him off world without whole planet going up in war. The story also involved a disgraced Sontaran character called Commander Skorn. This story got as far as CGI being designed for the cyclops. Unfortunately as Series 5 went on, there was a budget crunch and it was realised they couldn't afford their original plans. So Hungry Earth/Cold Blood was rewritten to be cheaper, Neil Gaiman's Episode 11 was moved to Series 6, and Roberts' episode was abandoned altogether. Instead Roberts and Simon Nye were hired to write new, cheaper stories for episodes 7 and 11. However, even though the episode was lost, Moffat reinvented Commander Skorn as Commander Strax for A Good Man Goes to War, delighting Roberts. -Fear Itself by Paul Cornell (from Paul Cornell's Newsletter https://paulcornell.us17.list-manage.com/subscribe?u=198e8a011b70a7fa79dd704d6&id=de506d08cb) This was to be a companion-lite episode. It was a loose adaptation of Cornell's Christmas story "The Hopes and Fears of All the Years" The story involved the Doctor visiting a boy (Tom) every year on his on his birthday, because the Doctor knows he will, on one birthday, save the boy's life. It charted the life story of the boy, then the man, through the Doctor's regular visits on the same day. The story went through at least six drafts with the threat the Doctor was protecting Tom from changing during this process. By the Sixth draft it an alien computer that turned surrounding people into monsters for a few minutes each year. Tom had a green glowing lump on his neck & the computer's directive was to obtain it/destroy it. The story got as far as Cornell being brought in to to talk about casting, with some big names being discussed for grown-up Tom. Eventually it was decided the story was too expensive for Series 5 (Two scenes of birthday visits through the decades would've depicted the two World Wars) and the episode was pushed back to Series 6. However when Series 6 started, Cornell was told they weren't going ahead with his episode after all. Series 7 -Craig of the Gods by Gareth Roberts This was intended for episode 5 of the original Series 7b when Beryl the Victorian nanny was to be the companion. Craig was playing a computer game with real people trapped inside. The Tardis landed in game, Doctor and Beryl looked up through the clouds to see god and it was Craig. The story was seemingly abandoned when Beryl was replaced with Clara as the companion Roberts later observed that similar ideas were used in Series 10's Extremis. -Craig's Wedding by Gareth Roberts This would've featured the return of Craig, Sophie and their son. In one interview, Roberts said "I had this idea where Craig and Sophie were going to get married and were on this beautiful island somewhere near Greece and it was all going fine, then you turned around and saw the Doctor water-skiing away from a Sea Devil. Then you’d have Craig trying to keep him out of the wedding.” However someone who had read the Series 7 outline says that Sea Devils weren't there, instead a different monster was featured. Roberts later described the episode as "Nuts In May on Alzarius" Nuts in May was a Mike Leigh comedy about a slightly dull married couple (Craig and Sophie?) who try to go camping, but keep having their peace interrupted, often by the husband's jealousy. It may have been cancelled due to James Cordern's rising stardom in America. From what we can gather, it seems to have been replaced with "Journey to the Centre of the TARDIS" Series 8 -Strax on Trial by James Henry Detailed here http://jamesandthebluecat.blogspot.com/2018/01/always-spell-check-your-email-headers.html Briefly, James Henry (writer of Green Wing, Campus and Smack the Pony) was asked to pitch stories for Series 8. Eventually Moffat asked him to develop one his own ideas, where Strax is kidnapped by his fellow Sontarans, taken back to his home planet, and put on trial for helping humans and the Doctor. An outline was written (read the blogpost) and it appears it was in competition with "Mummy on the Orient Express" and "In the Forest of the Night" for the final two slots. For various reasons, those two episodes were chosen instead. Series 9 -Vampire story by Paul Cornell Paul Cornell was asked to come in and submit ideas for Capaldi's first series. One story idea was for the Doctor & Clara to encounter a community of peaceful vampires in London and for the Doctor to get bitten and become one. The story was a sort of inverse 'Human Nature', going with the idea that this was to be a Doctor who couldn't quite be trusted. This story idea was accepted and could've been made for Capaldi's second season (per Cornell's reddit AMA) but it was never developed further than a one page outline. Series 10 -Jamie Mathieson's New Monster In 2015, when Moffat was first talking to writers for Series 10 episodes, he told the Radio Times "[Mathieson] has just been in and pitched a brilliant idea, a brilliant new monster. I just read his first pass at a storyline for that and I’ve no idea where we’ll end up going with that story. But that’s him. Being Jamie, he came in with 20 ideas and this one is just a belter" Early next year, Mathieson told a convention he had received an email from Moffat beginning "I can't stop thinking about your monster" However, in a 2017 DWM, Moffat reported that although they had tried to make Mathieson's monster story, they'd never managed to get the script to work, Moffat thought that it would still make an amazing horror film. Instead he asked Mathieson to develop another different story based around astronauts. -Sleep No More 2 by Mark Gatiss When planning his story for Series 10, Gatiss originally planned to do a semi-sequel to "Sleep No More" He told the Radio Times "I had this idea [that] I'd like to do the double in a kind of Yeti way, to have two stories about the same monster.”  "Although it was still in space, 'Sleep No More' was originally going to be on a trading floor; it was a stocks and shares thing, with these executives who were trying to stay awake in order to be more productive...I thought there was something in that, and actually maybe I could do a modern day one, set in the City, where they’d invented the same process but actually thousands of years earlier, and it had the same effect.” So the story would have been more of a prequel, set in Modern day London, The Genesis of the Sandmen. Gatiss said he abandoned the episode when he realised that this could be his last Who episode, so he asked instead to write the story he'd always wanted to do: Ice Warriors on Mars. -Pride & Prejudice & Daleks by Paul Cornell Paul Cornell was again asked to submit ideas for a later Capaldi series. One idea he developed, involving Daleks in the Land of Fiction was paid for because it was similar to an idea another writer was working on and they wanted to be able to use his ideas (this is standard practice with writers) However the latter story was never made. List of writers that were commissioned, but we still know nothing about their stories Series 3: Matthew Graham (possibly the man who can drain color that he unsuccessfully pitched for Series 2) Series 5: Rob Shearman, Jack Thorne, Amanda Coe Series 7: Tom MacRae, John Fay, Jack Lothian, the mystery original writer of Series 7b Episode 2 Series 10: Russell T Davies (Moffat said at Cambridge that they had a story all worked out, but then he became too busy) At some point during the Steven Moffat era, Charlie Brooker & Jed Mercurio were asked by the showrunner if they wanted to write Doctor Who stories. However Brooker was too busy & Mercurio wasn't interested in 2018 acclaimed writer Sally Abbott said that she worked on a Doctor Who story for several months, but wouldn't say more except it was "a few years ago" Paul Cornell has also said that around 2011/2012 he worked with Caro Skinner on another TV Doctor Who spinoff, which he's going to discuss on his newsletter at a later date. So if you want to read about that in full, I encourage you to subscribe https://paulcornell.us17.list-manage.com/subscribe?u=198e8a011b70a7fa79dd704d6&id=de506d08cb)
to those of you who are on gb, here’s a direct link to the post: 
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ms31x129 · 5 years
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Little Boy Blue
Summary:            
“Son, you look like you’re going through some hard times. And every once in a while you gotta accept a little help.”
XFXFXFXFXFXFXFXFXFXFXFXF
It was almost time. He could feel it.
He walks to the end of the room and pulls back the ugly brown drape.
Yes, it would be soon.
He knows it, can almost physically sense it, the same way he can feel the cold that is creeping through the edges of the window pane. Frost clings thick to the glass like tiny snow drifts in the corners. Absently he uses his fingernail to carve a heart into the icy landscape.
He remembers once doing the same thing to the soft skin of her back. She’d giggled as he’d traced ‘I Love You’ with a feather-like touch.
His eyes darken when he remembers finding the trace of red the laser had missed.
And just like that he recalls the city he’s lost the most in. His nails dig in, scratching out the ice-etched heart.
He should have known better than to seek refuge in that wretched city of all places.
He left in May and now in December, when most people are celebrating the holidays with family and friends, he’s just getting through each day.
He’s traveled across the country hundreds of times; usually she was by his side. She wasn’t always happy about it, but she was there.
But he’s tired of moving, of running. Tired of being without contact.
When he left, he’d thought maybe he could teach. Access to whatever false ID and credentials he would need was easily remedied. He’d moved every 3 days from May to July. By then his funds had dwindled and needed to be replenished somehow.
* * * * *
A small town with a community college in Arizona needed a Mythology instructor; Professor Kent Searcher accepted. He gathered the text books he needed, read them cover to cover and had his class syllabus prepared in three days. He found it ironic that he was looking forward to using some of the knowledge he’d worked a lifetime to achieve in this capacity.
Surprisingly, he was content teaching the students–some of them so willing to believe–who didn’t need solid scientific evidence.
The students sensed it the moment their professor’s mood changed, his animated speech breaking off in mid-sentence.
He cleared his throat and bowed his head, asking them to please study quietly until the end of class. He removed his glasses and sat, thumbs digging into the corners of his eyes.
The motion hadn’t been casual enough that they’d missed his reddened eyes and several wayward tears.
He got word the last week in September. They were coming.
He’d left with 8 bags in May. By October, when Mark Hunter took a job coaching High School Basketball, there were only 4. Two of those remained in the trunk of the car.
Six weeks later he accepted a dinner invitation from the 8th grade English teacher. He was lonely and longed for some one on one adult conversation.
She was attractive, though her beauty paled in comparison to the one he still loved. The one he still dreamed about every night he closed his eyes.
He arrived at 7. She smiled and ushered him into the living room. He made himself comfortable on the couch while she excused herself for a moment. He was shocked when she returned and placed a baby into his arms, “Could you hold him while I check the oven?” He nodded dumbly.
How could he forget she’d told him about her 6 month old son?
She returned to find him openly weeping, even as her son slept on, oblivious. He stood, handed her the baby and left.
* * * * *
Finally a bright spot on the horizon. He was needed.
At home. He was going home.
Danger.
A mad dash.
He was chased between boxcars and engines.
A missed chance.
A petite figure stood on the platform, watching the train with him depart.
He ran to his car, eyes burning, tears clouding his vision. He was somewhere in Ohio when exhaustion overcame him and he drove the car into a ditch.
* * * * *
He was found unconscious and taken to the local clinic.
The mechanic who towed the car offered him a job in exchange for the repairs necessary to get his vehicle back on the road. Mr. Guthrie didn’t even mind that he didn’t have any automotive experience short of putting the key in the ignition. He just said, “Son, you look like you’re going through some hard times. And every once in a while you gotta accept a little help.”
He became a wiz at tire rotation, fixing flats and oil changes. He heard the explosion as he was walking to the garage one day. Guthrie’s Repair Shop was a ball of flames; black smoke clouds floated up from the building. He ran back to the bed and breakfast, threw as much as he could into one bag and left town in the truck Mr. Guthrie had loaned him.
He’d abandoned the truck 2 hours later.
He didn’t know if the man who’d taken a complete stranger under his wing was alive or dead as he boarded a bus headed east.
Just one more thing to weigh heavily on his mind.
As the bus ate the highway miles, he fell into a fitful sleep, realizing; each time They found him was sooner than the last.
* * * * *
Donovan Seeker left the grocery store where he worked as a stock boy… man, went to his dingy efficiency apartment and changed into his jogging gear.
Even the snow of mid-December didn’t slow his pace. His normal route took him within 5 blocks of the Liberty Bell, but this night he travelled a new path.
He ran until he spotted the shop. He turned 180 degrees, saw the bar across the street and made his way in.
Dirty, dark and smoky.
A place for adulterers, drug dealers, prostitutes… and whores. Low-life, scum.
The kind of place she shouldn’t have been in… but had.
Anger lashed through him. He turned, slammed the door open.
Run, run, run. Legs pumping. Heart pounding.
What should have been ancient history wasn’t. It just wasn’t.
He made it back to the apartment, unlocked and opened the door with a forceful bang against the wall. He stripped quickly, climbed into the shower.
Hot, hot water. Scrub, scrub. Harder. Faster. He tried to get rid of the images, the anger.
Finally he shut the water off. Dried off, calmer than before. A car door slammed, he made his way to the window.
They were coming.
He grabbed his jacket, his wallet. Reached into the pocket quickly and felt the softness of his one memento. He heard them coming down the hall. Out of time, he opened the window and crawled out onto the fire escape. The old window slammed, catching his jacket sleeve.
They kicked the door in, searched the room. A leather jacket was hanging from the window. They looked down and saw him disappearing around the corner.
They smiled, knowing they would succeed soon.
* * * * *
He’s left his frosty window.
Reclining on the bed he lets his insecurities and anger reign.
Why is he the one running? Why aren’t they together?
Instead he’s the one alone. He’s the one unemployed and surprised at being depressed over getting laid off from a janitor’s job.
At least she still has….
While he has nothing, nothing at all.
Maybe she’s moved on, has another man, another lover. Someone to help raise their son.
Their son. HIS son. A son he should be able to see dressed in a little Santa outfit tonight, Christmas Eve. And then after he’s asleep, the naughty elf could come out and play. He could urge mommy to get naked and on her hands and knees in front of the Christmas tree, while they play 'drive the sleigh’.
Maybe it’s Doggett. He’d sure managed to fill in nicely in the work place. Maybe he’s warming the sheets too.
He knows it isn’t him, and hasn’t been since before William. So few times really; when was William conceived? He hopes it was after they’d shared a beer and movie date together. A happy, comfortable moment in their lives. He hates thinking she was already pregnant and feeding liquor to the tiny person growing inside of her.
He remembers the day he left with such clarity.
* * * * *
William was unusually alert and fussy for a newborn. Could he sense he might never see his father again? Scully started crying and he’d taken the baby into the bedroom, stretching out on the bed with him. Still shirtless after his shower, he held his son against his skin. His large hands held his precious package with tenderness and awe.
He began to sing, softly, his voice full of emotion.
Scully came into the room just in time to hear him choke out, 'he learned to walk while I was away’. She stifled a sob and left them alone.
William quieted, listening intently to his father’s voice singing a heartfelt rendition of 'Cat’s in the Cradle’, he’d finally dropped off to sleep.
After placing William safe and sound in his cradle. Mulder finished dressing and went into the living room.  Scully sat on the couch, quiet, subdued. They avoided looking at each other. He picked up his bags and was almost out the door before Scully was in his arms. She wanted to make love, she didn’t care that she’d just given birth. Kissing her lips and brushing her tears away with his thumbs, he gently declined.
Two hours later, on the road to nowhere, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the only thing he had of William’s. He brought it to his nose and inhaled the sweet baby smell, felt the soft yarn tickling his skin. Swearing to himself to never, never lose it.
* * * * *
But he did.
In fucking Philadelphia.
He lost the only physical connection he had to his son. Such an insignificant thing really, just the warming cap he’d worn during his short hospital stay, but it’d meant everything to him to have something that had actually touched his son.
There hadn’t been time for pictures.
He goes to the window again, sees his reflection and the tears streaming down his face. He has nothing to remember his son by, while she has it all.
He wonders how long it takes for love to turn to hate. He wonders how much longer it will be for him….
And if he’ll run the next time They come for him.
The end…
                                 Notes:  
I wrote this years ago. Started it just after the S8 premiere and finished it just after Trust No 1 aired. It’s on Gossamer, but I’m going to update it a tad along with my other fic and migrate the updates here. So below you’ll find original notes.
1. I miss the X Files. 2. I miss Mulder’s passion and wonder. 3. This is dedicated to Jemirah, she makes my wild ramblings not so-well-rambling. *g* Thank you.
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amandajoyce118 · 5 years
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The Punisher Season 2 Easter Eggs And References
Yes, I know. You don’t have to tell me that the second season of The Punisher dropped on Netflix a month ago. Surprisingly, this last month has been extremely busy for me. Birthdays, family stuff, changes in management at my day job, changes in editors (thrice!) at my freelance job, plus prepping my tax stuff has left me with very little free time. I finally managed to finish the second season this weekend (and I started Umbrella Academy, which is really interesting, but something I’m not familiar with, so no Easter Eggs on that one, sorry!) and finish writing up Easter eggs as well.
As usual, there are spoilers, but I went episode by episode with the Easter eggs. Anybody worried about spoilers has probably already watched the show at this point. I feel like I was probably the last one out there who hadn’t watched. Despite it taking me forever and a day to watch the show, there’s still a chance I didn’t catch everything, especially since the Punisher doesn’t seem like a show with a lot of in-universe Easter eggs.
Happy reading!
S2E01 “Roadhouse Blues”
The Van
Oh, look. Pete AKA Frank is using a van full time. In the comics, the van houses a wide variety of weapons and surveillance equipment, but Frank isn’t quite that high tech without the help of someone like Micro around. He also calls it the Battle Van.
Lola’s Roadhouse
It’s probably just a coincidence, because Lola is just one of those names that pop culture junkies seem to love, but… who else thinks it might be a nod to Coulson’s favorite car in Agents of SHIELD?
Fiona
Some people will try to find the Marvel character that is “Fiona,” but again, I think this one is a coincidence. Why? Fiona is a weirdly popular name in comics. There’s a Fiona who is an Inhuman who can fly. There’s a Fiona who founds the sisterhood and hates men. There are also Fionas who are artists/writers/pencilers/etc in real life. I think this is just a case of them picking a pretty name.
Michigan
It’s the last place anyone would look, you say? Kind of like how it’s the last place anyone seems to care about because Flint still doesn’t have clean water? Yep.
S2E02 “Fight Or Flight”
Pete and Rachel
I like that Frank is still using the name Pete, but can we all laugh for a second about how these two are Pete and Rachel? It makes me laugh because these are two characters in friends. Pete only asks Monica out because he overhears Monica and Rachel talking about their love lives (or lack of them). Pete, funnily enough is like a Tony Stark character here: wealthy, throwing money around to get what he wants, buying women buildings, etc. He’s also played by Jon Favreau AKA Happy Hogan in the Iron Man movies. It’s one of those things that’s not meant to be a connection, but proves you can find “Easter eggs” in anything.
Rachel AKA Amy
Amy is based on a comic book character, but she’s been completely changed for the show. In the comics, she was a little girl who saw Frank escape a crime scene and promised him she wouldn’t tell anyone. He helped her out a few times as well. But, like I said, completely different. (Of course, the use of the name Rachel, and some of her later story gives a nod to another comic book character as well. We’ll talk about that later.)
Larkville, Ohio
Clearly based on Clarkville, Ohio. They thought leaving off one letter would make it less obvious? Anyway, here are some fun facts about Ohio in the MCU. It’s where there was a secret wing of a prison for powered people (thanks, Agents of SHIELD). It’s also where Coulson and company went to get information about CENTIPEDE (again, thanks Agents of SHIELD). Lincoln Campbell tried to escape Inhuman life as a doctor there (again, Agents of SHIELD). It’s also where Bucky sarcastically remarked Steve Rogers was from for one of his many fake ID’s to get in the army (Captain America: The First Avenger). And, it’s also where Helmut Zemo tracked down a super soldier in hiding (Captain America: Civil War). So, what I’m saying is, if you’re interested in lying low in the MCU, you don’t go to Ohio. Someone will find you.
Billy’s Memory
Billy Russo’s memory being jumbled, or having gaps, provides a nice storytelling device, but it’s also a nice nod to the comics. His memory was manipulated, or he was brainwashed, a few times. The only thing that restored his memory those times? Fighting the Punisher, of course.
A Jigsaw Puzzle
Lots of puzzle references to Billy, and with good reason. In the comics, he’s Jigsaw. The guy gets thrown through a plate glass window and his face is put back together like a jigsaw by a surgeon. He takes on the name and vows revenge.
Billy’s Mask
His mask is more than just to build suspense by covering up his face. You’ll see there are red and blue colors on the sides? It’s meant to be a nod to an art therapy practice that’s become helpful in treating soldiers with PTSD as a result of their work. Soldiers are instructed to create a mask to show people what they’re feeling on the inside, even if they can’t say it. National Geographic did a whole piece on how the work has been helping people. I wrote about it in my Jigsaw list, briefly.
S2E03 “Trouble The Water”
129
The door number that is clearly visible when Billy breaks out of the hospital with his therapist’s help is 129. To be fair, most house numbers, door numbers, and phone numbers are completely random. This one might be a coincidence. But… Amazing Spider-Man issue 129 was the very first appearance of the Punisher. Jigsaw AKA Billy Russo appeared over 30 issues later in the same series. It seems purposeful.
Mahoney
Look at Mahoney, making the rounds still. He started as a character on Daredevil and has worked his way through the Netflix shows.
The Pilgrim
That’s the name given in press releases to the religious villain who has some, uh, questionable tattoos removed once upon a time. He’s not a specific comic book character, but a lot of people have compared him to the Mennonite from the old Punisher comics.
S2E04 “Scar Tissue”
WHiH
The world news station of choice in the MCU, this one gets more attention in the movies. It’s covering news from every corner of the globe. Recently, it’s made its way into the Netflix shows, Agents of SHIELD, and Runaways as well.
WJBP TV
Another station in the MCU, this one is local. It’s typically only seen in the Netflix corner of the universe, so it’s usually covering New York news.
The Kitten Hanging On The Branch
I’m sorry, but did anyone not see one of these posters if they grew up in the United States? Nice nod to the inspirational poster schtick the public school system has. I think I saw it in guidance counselor offices at every school I went to.
New York Bulletin
Yes, the Bulletin is still going strong despite losing a lot of its staff in the second season of Daredevil.
Amy AKA Rachel
Okay, so despite looking like a nod to the little kid who keeps Frank’s secret in the comics, this character also appears to be a nod to Rachel Cole. She ended up in the middle of a gang war and became a vigilante, falling in with Frank.
Baseball
So, Billy had a thing for baseball? You know who else had a thing for baseball? Dex AKA Bullseye in Daredevil season two. Nice job keeping your sociopaths on theme, Netflix MCU.
S2E05 “One-Eyed Jacks”
Three Card Monte
I have a hard time believing that Frank Castle, marine, killer, and all around street savvy dude, doesn’t understand how Three Card Monte works. Then again, maybe no one has tried to swindle him with cards because they value their life. Who knows? Anyway, I found this version interesting because most people who hustle with it want you to “find the lady” as the queen of hearts. Here, it’s the queen of diamonds. I’m not sure what that says, but it’s interesting. (Also, I feel like Amy AKA Rachel and Skye AKA Daisy would get along. It reminded me of the sugar packets and Mike’s ID in the Agents of SHIELD pilot).
Turk Barrett
At this point, if you don’t know who Turk is, I’m just going to assume you haven’t seen any of the Netflix shows before. In which case, why are you reading these Easter eggs? Go start watching from the beginning, and then come back.
Oh, sh1t!
I think it’s cute that for all her life as a hustler, she doesn’t use actual curse words, but instead, speaks the way teens might curse via text.
S2E06 “Nakazal”
“You could always burn the place down.”
I feel like this is a nod to how arson tends to be a last resort for Frank in the comics. He prefers to go in, guns blazing, and just take people out. There are a few stories where he’s torched whole buildings, but they usually are just a minor thing in a major story arc.
Anderson And Eliza Schultz
Not comic book characters, but they do share their surname with Herman Schultz AKA the Shocker. I think that’s probably not a big connection. Instead, it’s more likely that the writers liked the name, and as a bonus, it gives them a nod to comic creators Charles Schultz (Peanuts) and Mark Schultz (art for DC, but also really big in indie comics).
I’m not going to list all of the political commentary in this episode, but whew. They really went for it.
S2E07 “One Bad Day”
The Title
“All it takes is one bad day to reduce the sanest man to lunacy.” Or at least, that’s what the Joker believes in Batman’s The Killing Joke. It’s one of the biggest Batman stories ever, so I’m thinking the title is no coincidence. I also think a few staff members are Batman fans since the kid in the first episode also had a Batman backpack.
Fragmentation Grenade
An interesting choice for a weapon since in the comics, Jigsaw gets healed a few times, only to have his face ruined again by the Punisher. One of those times is the result of a fragmentation grenade.
S2E08 “My Brother’s Keeper”
The Fatal Shore By Robert Hughes
The book Amy reads when she’s bored in the trailer is actually about the founding of Australia. History teaches us it was a penal colony - the place where criminals were shipped to start over - but there were already Aboriginals there, which made for quite the conflict. Someone like Amy probably would have found the crime, the hustle of the whole thing, interesting, but she doesn’t strike me as someone who would be into history, so it’s no wonder she put it down.
“He did everything he could to you to make sure you suffered for the rest of your life.”
Yes. This is exactly why Frank leaves Billy alive in the comics. He kills everyone who had a hand in the deaths of his family - all but Billy, even though they weren’t as close as brothers in the comics. He leaves Billy alive so that the guy can suffer, but also to serve as a warning to anyone who comes after him. Billy spends a lot of his story arcs either trying to get revenge, or trying to get his “pretty boy” looks back.
S2E09 “Flustercluck”
Valhalla
Do we say this is a nod to the Thor franchise, or do we just accept that the world at large has the idea of Valhalla as paradise? Your call.
“I’m not the one that dies…”
I’ll confess Punisher is not my comic book cup of tea, but I feel like he said this line in a comic once. I could be wrong.
S2E10 “The Dark Hearts Of Men”
The Title
Pretty sure this is a nod to a Bible verse about humanity. But I’m not up on my Bible knowledge and a google search just gives me a bunch of reviews of this episode, so I’m sorry this isn’t more specific?
“Drunkards Prayer”
This is the song that plays when the Pilgrim is both fighting and recovering from his fight. It’s a song about wanting to be pious, but knowing you’re an addict. And it fits with his character pretty well. AJ McLean (of the Backstreet Boys) covered it once, if you’re interested. I think you could also apply it to just about any character in Castle’s world - people wanting to be better, but unable to leave the bad things in their life behind. And no, I won’t dissect every song choice for the season, but this one stuck with me.
Making Castle Believe The Worst
Making the Punisher believe he killed innocent people is straight out of the comics. It’s one trick a villain uses to bring him down, though ultimately, he figures out he wasn’t the one responsible. That looks like the same thing here with Castle believing he killed the women and the therapist’s “I know how to break Castle” thing.
S2E11 “The Abyss”
Queens
I find it interesting that the Punisher is frequenting Queens a lot in this season. (The warehouse where he gets arrested, as noted in the radio broadcast, is in Queens.) Why? Because he was introduced in a Spider-Man comic and frequently crossed paths with the web crawler. Where is Peter Parker from? Queens.
Karen Page
Karen’s appearance as Frank’s “lawyer” here muddles the timeline a bit. We’ve all been thinking this occurs after season three of Daredevil. That season ended with Matt and Foggy reforming Nelson and Murdock, but with making Karen a partner as well. Never mind that she doesn’t have a law degree or anything like that. But, Karen introduces herself as representing Nelson and Murdock. Maybe her name isn’t in the business because she’s not a lawyer? Or maybe this is actually set before that? Who knows? It’s all very ambiguous.
Sacred Saints Hospital
While this hospital didn’t appear in another episode, the Sacred Saints Cemetery did, and I wonder if they’re connected to one another? Sacred Saints is where Elektra was supposedly buried, which gives us a lot of Daredevil connections in this episode, huh?
Matt Murdock
Frank mentions the man himself while talking with Karen. I feel like this is more of a reminder that Frank knows Matt is Daredevil than it is a legit comment on the state of Matt and Karen’s relationship.
Karen’s Shoes
Not an Easter egg, but I like that the payment to the morgue tech/assistant medical examiner was her very expensive shoes, not something tropey like drinks with him. Thank you, writers. This was cute. Also, it gave Karen the means to run around the hotel easier and not be held back by her heels.
S2E12 “Collision Course”
Mr. Blue
The only thing I noticed in this episode was the nickname given to Billy by the florist. It’s actually the alias Betty Ross used in the comments when Bruce Banner was a fugitive and she tried to stay in contact with him. Probably not intentional, but you never know.
S2E13 “The Whirlwind”
“...pull your spine out of your throat…”
In the “Space” stories for the Punisher, he does something like this to Ultron, funnily enough. He reaches into Ultron’s mouth and pulls his core out, not his spine, through his throat.
Dive School In Florida
Okay, I couldn’t find any characters associated with the Punisher who spend a lot of time in Florida, but I can tell you Florida made its first appearance for Marve in Marvel Comics #1, that Man-Thing is from there, and that Captain Marvel spent time there working for NASA. Florida has also popped up in a few episodes of Agents of SHIELD. It’s where Joey (former SHIELD ally and Inhuman teammate) lives, where Elena has friends, and where May and Coulson pretended to be married to steal a painting.
The Final Shot
That final image of Castle in his Punisher vest opening fire has been in several comics. It’s clear it’s intentional.
Stan Lee
The final episode closes with an “in loving memory.” Not really an Easter egg, but worth a mention. While Stan Lee did not create the Punisher, he had a hand in his name. Originally, Frank Castle was going to be called the Assassin. Lee thought they should go for something a little less on the nose, and coined the Punisher.
A few notes for the season:
Castle never purposely uses lethal force against law enforcement. I guess that’s supposed to make us believe that his killing of all the bad guys is acceptable.
The support group that Curtis leads? One of my favorite things is that there are a lot of flyers on the bulletin boards behind them for things like free puppies. A lot of these guys would do better (not suddenly be whole again, but maybe do a little bit better) with an emotional support animal. It’s proven that having an animal to come home to can actually help you live longer. It’s one of the reasons there are groups that take animals into children’s hospitals and retirement homes for people to play with.
The season finale actually feels very final to me. I think this might have been the only one of the MCU Netflix shows where the writers thought they might not come back? Because it seems like they closed everything up nicely instead of teasing something else down the line.
That’s all I’ve got this time around. The next Easter egg list on the horizon for me is, I believe, Captain Marvel, which should be up the same weekend it releases since I’m seeing that one opening night.
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'Supernatural' Various & Sundry Villains: Kill Your Darlings
Okay, I’m going to be upfront, I was ready to be super underwhelmed by last week’s Supernatural episode “Various & Sundry Villains.” All of the promotion focused on the love spell, and frankly, we’ve been there, done that. In fact, I’m shocked that showrunner Andrew Dabb let this pitch go to script given that he wrote the controversial episode “Season 7 Time for a Wedding”, an episode that I can honestly say has only one truly redeeming quality: Leslie Odom, Jr. was in it. While this was arguably derivative of that episode, giving this the go ahead was risky on Dabb’s part. It paid off for writer, Steve Yockey, because this love spell outing was much better than the last. In the opening of this episode we meet the Plum sisters, and I hate to say this, but despite watching this episode three times I don’t actually remember their first names and I could barely tell them apart anyway, so we’ll just call the one Dean “falls in love with” Harley Quinn and the other one we’ll call… Harley Quinn’s little sister? Yeah, sure, why not? Between the cutesy valley girl verbiage and the bloody sledgehammer, I’m sure we were supposed to get an Arkham Asylum vibe off these two. At least, I really hope that was the intention. I’ll be honest, I was not impressed with these characters and I’m not sure if it was off writing, off casting, or off directing, but they felt really forced. From their overly stereotypical Millenial way of speaking to their overtly blatant mirroring of Sam and Dean (yes, we get it, one is younger and brainy, they other is older and protective, they’re obsessed with their dead mom and it could go badly, was that a hammer they were using or an anvil?) the Plum sisters, unlike their Winchester counterparts, came off as grating. Maybe they were supposed to? Again, I hope so. I will say that as a horror buff I enjoyed the return of Rowena’s mad dog spell and the demise of the Plum sisters at each other’s hands. I saw a lot of people say it was too much, too gratuitous, too gory. And perhaps it was, but given the movies I regularly watch and enjoy, well, I embraced it. While I will say I’m glad the love spell portion of the episode was short-lived, it’s always fun to see Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki show off their comedy elbow chops; Ackles with the perfectly timed glibness he brings to Dean Winchester and Padalecki’s Sam Winchester, ever the earnest Abbott to Ackles’ Costello, was subtle, stoic faced gold. Ackles and Padalecki got to play off each other magnificently in this episode; from Dean walking in practically floating on a love cloud, to Sam trying desperately to remind Dean they’ve been down this weird love spell road before, to Ackles’ delivery of “‘cause she’s got a sister”, to their tussle in front of the Impala (though, dang, these boys horseplay hard given the butt dent Sam left on the hood after Dean rushed him) the two actors smoothly show how well they work together no matter the material. But the star of this episode was Rowena. Her entrance was stellar, and she stole every scene. Ruth Connell is delightful in this role and for the most part (we’ll get to that later) I was glad to see her back because I was sorry to lose her last season, especially in such a cheap, off-screen way. I’m hard-pressed to fall for new characters, but Rowena is one that I really enjoy. Connell was able to give us comedy and tragedy in this episode, going from snark to desperation fluidly. I also have to give Steve Yockey heaps of credit for having Rowena not only ask about Crowley but allowing her to have an outburst about his death. Hearing her say that she’d rather have him alive than to have died a hero hit really close to home given that the lack of Mark Sheppard as Crowley has been quite the gaping hole this season. Take a note from Yockey, other writers, because I’m still waiting for Castiel to ask about Meg… Speaking of Castiel, he and Lucifer were locked up. Now they aren’t. And like, they had a whole big penis to penis measurement contest and Castiel for some reason tried to hurt Lucifer by telling him that Jack doesn’t even look like him, which… um, Lucifer is in the image of a seasons dead vessel so, of course, he doesn’t look like him. And also, when did you get to know so much about Jack, Castiel? I think maybe the writer accidentally gave Misha Collins some of Sam’s lines to say. If I sound like I was less than moved by any of these scenes, it’s because I wasn’t. The scenes weren’t objectively bad or anything, and not only has Mark Pellegrino has found his footing as Lucifer again, but he and Collins play extremely well off each other. Unfortunately, their scenes simply didn’t mesh well with the “A” plot and the dichotomy crashed the episode’s momentum. Although, I did enjoy both characters reminding each other what untrustworthy, hypocritical screw-ups both have been. Again, I appreciate it when Supernatural is self-aware like that because fallibility gives depth and interest. Now, you didn’t think I was going to review this episode and not talk about Sam and Rowena sharing their trauma, did you? Because that was a scene that many Supernatural fans have waited years for. In season 11, Sam was forced to not only work with Lucifer, but he had to allow Lucifer into his home, into his room, and wasn’t allowed to voice any grievances about it and while Padalecki did a phenomenal job adding little twitches and moments of tight body language and subtle distance, it was all too obvious that the writers were wary of taking Sam’s trauma seriously because at the time Lucifer was possessing Castiel’s body and the “Cassifer" version of Lucifer was played mostly as a joke throughout that entire arc, nothing but a bratty teenager throwing a tantrum, while Sam Winchester, the boy who had every reason to rip into both Lucifer and God, just stood on the sidelines silently like he was totally fine. But he wasn’t, he hasn’t been, and watching Sam and Rowena both delve into the trauma and abuse they experienced at Lucifer’s hand was fantastically written and acted. Yockey was able to give the characters just enough for them to convey, through their tone, inflections, and facial expressions how much they were, no are, broken by the Devil himself. Having them both admit to seeing Lucifer’s real face, while giving no descriptive details was brilliant. Both Padalecki and Connell were able to communicate to the audience how horrific it was for their characters without any unnecessary detail. Such a great “show, don’t tell” moment; it’s so much more frightening for the viewer to fill in the blanks. And Sam explaining that it isn’t that he’s okay, it’s that he never gets the chance to fully deal with his trauma because the world is always falling apart was both heartbreaking and much needed, not only for Sam to say it but for the audience to hear it. At the end of this episode we got to see the other side of the Ackles/Padalecki chemistry, their ability to rip your heart out, when Sam and Dean have a frank discussion back at the bunker about what to do going forward. Dean knowing that Sam gave Rowena the spell she wanted and instead of yelling and belittling him, he’s simply honest and direct with him and doesn’t question Sam when he says that if Rowena played him again, he’ll personally kill her. It was also good to hear Sam be open with Dean about how defeated he feels, about how he tried to mask that with conviction and hope, but that he can’t fake it til he makes it anymore. And while Dean’s words of encouragement and confidence may seemingly ring hollow to Sam, it’s not because Sam doesn’t have faith in Dean, it’s that right now he can’t see where Dean is coming from. Dean knows, because characters have told him for years, how important he and Sam are, how they keep this world spinning, but Sam has never heard it directly, not from God, not from Amara, not from Death, not from Billie. Those declarations have only been uttered to Dean and then conveyed by Dean to Sam, so Dean knows that they’ll figure out a way, that it’s basically destiny and Sam has no choice but to take Dean’s word for it. I could go on and on about the isolation of Sam Winchester, but that’s an article for a different day. [caption id="attachment_53290" align="aligncenter" width="696"] Photo: Home of the Nutty[/caption] Overall, this was a mytharc episode done well, slightly overstuffed as most mytharc episodes are, but coherent and well paced with a fantastic blend of horror, levity, and angst. That said, the last thing I want to touch on for this episode is something that was absolutely no fault of the writer, Steve Yockey, but I think is an increasing problem on Supernatural; the element of surprise is gone, as are the stakes. Supernatural was once known as a show where rocks fell, and everyone died. It was also a show where Jim Beaver once hid his reprisal of Bobby Singer by trying to convince fandom that he was in Vancouver shooting an abominable snowman movie so that his return to the show wasn’t spoiled Fast forward just a few years and the cast, crew, and network PR are spoiling character reveals weeks, even months in advance. Instead of being shocked by Rowena’s return we all went into this episode waiting for her appearance, and while we saw Castiel stab Lucifer with an angel blade; saw the red light go out of Lucifer’s eyes; it’s all for naught. Lucifer is the focus of the promo that aired right after the episode, and the synopsis for the next episode lays out exactly what he’ll be up to. Even last season finale, no one believed Castiel was actually permanently dead. Hell, it took Mark Sheppard declaring that he refuses to ever reprise his role for fans to believe Crowley was truly dead. No stakes means no emotional payoff. No secrecy means no shock and awe. Take a page from some of the greats, Supernatural, including yourself: what’s dead should stay dead, so kill your darlings and if you must bring them back, stop telegraphing their returns. Check out this week's Supernatural Devil's Bargain trailer above.
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Personal and Fic Updates
Hey everyone!
I know it’s been a long time since I’ve done one of these personal update messages.  I’m trying to get my stuff in order but life continues to outpace me, it seems.
The quick and dirty: Fic Stuff:
Moira has been integrated into the overarching plot of “And Overwatch For All”
Because of this, I am currently rewriting major portions of Old Habits.  Yesterday, I finished a major rewrite of chapter 10 (the “evil council is introduce” chapter).  I have the majority of chapter 11′s rewrite done and hope to finish that today as well.  With luck, I will start working on a rewrite of Chapter 13.
Shockingly, I’m keeping a lot of the “present day” plot elements the same (aka, all the stuff leading up to Recall).  But several major “past events” have changed, including Reaper/Gabriel’s backstory.
More on this later.  I will also be writing a separate post JUST for fic stuff, if you prefer to read only that.
Personal Stuff:
Extra expenses have started showing up in my life.  Details are under the cut.
My job has not yet promoted me and a coworker the way they said they would in the timeframe they gave us (1 year).  Because of this, I am starting the job hunt again.
I have created a Ko-Fi (https://ko-fi.com/U7U063ZJ)
More under the cut
Alright, so here’s the longer version of what my last like...three months have been like, with both personal/work stuff and fandom stuff.
Personal life/Work:
I have said this in a few places, but I currently work as an entry-level archaeologist for a state department in California.  Full disclosure: I and my fellow coworker are underpaid for our work, which is as variable as conducting documentation research through databases and organizing research on behalf of our higher-level archaeologist and historian supervisors to performing surveys and actual fieldwork digs in every type of weathers in California.  As an example, two weeks ago (the week of Thanksgiving here in the U.S.), myself and one of my supervisors did an 8 hour fieldwork day which consisted of 3-4 hours of surveying through waist-high grass in pouring rain at 55 degrees F/12 degrees C.  This upcoming week, I and (other underpaid) coworker will be doing two 12-hour days of construction monitoring.  Our work consists of traveling all over the state, with driving that can take a full day to get to a work destination (these are charged to work, don’t worry - I don’t have to pay for that, thank god).
The reason I’m explaining this is because this is a huge reason why some days (or even some weeks) my activity on tumblr, twitter, and AO3 will take a straight nosedive.  On Thursday of this past week, I spent 8-10 hours without checking my phone and came home to 4 missed calls, 8 “active chats” on messenger, 600 messages on discord, and basically a whole day of “social media-ing” missed out.  
If you’re rolling your eyes over this, I get it, I really do - it sounds like all the stuff that older people complain millennials “overvalue,” but (for example) one of those phone calls was from my dentist’s office saying that they will not serve me because (after three months of them NOT checking) they realized that I don’t have the right dental insurance for them.
Fun.
I don’t make enough money to switch to higher, “better services” health and dental insurance, but since I work a job that requires physical labor, I’m scared to cut them from my life.  Said coworker twisted his ankle earlier this year, and work only compensated him for 1 week of “missed” work, when in reality he was walking with a slight limp for 2-3 weeks.  Because of our low-level, we are not given access to benefits that many other state workers get.
Moreover, our sub-department has been promising that the two of us would get promoted “within the year.”  We reached a year working with them in mid-November, and that promise still hasn’t been reached.
So in terms of my personal life, I’m at a cross-roads: I will tell them that they need to promote us, even to the next “low-level position” because that will give us just a few more $/hour which will help A LOT when accumulated, or I’m going to tell them that I’ll have to search for something else.
On top of this, my parents have decided it’s time for me to “pay rent” to live at home with them - a discussion we, frankly, haven’t had on a serious level yet and one which blindsided me this morning.  I am looking into my options but without a better job, they’re not good.
This also doesn’t cover whatever it will take to help me start the legal and medical processes of transitioning, which are, frankly, the main things I’ve been saving money for.
What does this mean:
I’m looking for places to cut costs, but the combination of current expenses + what my parents want from me will take 1/3 to 1/2 of my current monthly paycheck.  I already spend next to nothing on personal stuff, so all my current expenses are “necessities” such as food, gas, and insurance.  I’m looking to cut down on gas costs but it may be awhile before my daily schedule gets adjusted.
The alternate is taking a second job that will permit me to only work my free three days a week.
Doing this means I will have zero time to write or produce content.
For now, I’m not jumping out to do that.  I’ve made a Ko-Fi account (https://ko-fi.com/U7U063ZJ) that I would greatly appreciate any spare money you’re willing to contribute.  Something as simple as a few dollars can go to me covering the cost of my health insurance per month, while I figure out the bigger problems of searching for a job.
The reason why I started with this is because:
Fic Stuff/Writing Stuff:
I do the equivalent of 3-4 full days of “writing” for fandom stuff per week: on my days off, I can write anywhere from 8 to 14 hours a day.  Using just Friday and yesterday as an example, I wrote 9k words, and with whatever I do today, I will likely push that to about 11-12k.
Yes, it is all voluntary, and I do not have to write at the pace that I do, nor the amount that I do.  I do it because I enjoy it, and because, honestly, writing for Overwatch has given me some of the biggest joys and happiness I have felt in like, a decade.  And that includes writing the long essays.  My last big R76 post (http://segadores-y-soldados.tumblr.com/post/167321630835/everything-you-want-to-know-about-reaper-and) spans a whopping 67 pages and 7.5k words in Google Docs (that includes pictures and sources/credits/links/references).
Again, this isn’t to brag, but just to put my writing into perspective, I guess.  This is the equivalent of doing a second part-time job, which was something I attempted last year but was unable to balance my current archaeology job + a part-time retail job + writing.  I dropped the second one because, at the time, I finally had the luxury to choose a job in my profession and writing on the side.  This is a luxury I was fortunate to enjoy for the first half of 2017, but it is steadily becoming undoable as my work increases my responsibilities without increasing my pay.
Fic Updates:
For those of your who have been waiting patiently for information on “And Overwatch for All” I do have some good news that I’m finally ready to share:
Moira has been integrated into the plot.
I got a number of comments here and on twitter that were really supportive of my current version of “AOFA” and I just want to say, thank you all so much.  It means a lot to me that you guys have liked the version of Overwatch I’ve built up and that you found all the characters, including my silly OCs, to be engaging and well-written.  It was soul-crushing to think I would have to lose some of them, but after some time and doing more research on Moira, I feel ready to talk more about her and how she’s going to factor into the updated plot.
To start off with:
None of the OCs will be cut, but some of their roles will change.
Lmao, this surprised me as well, but I’ve figured out a few different ways to make all of the OCs, especially the very obviously contrived “Death Agents,” stick around in the updated plot.
Only one OC (and you can probably guess who, if you’ve started “New Wars”) will change names: the character called “Reaper” in “New Wars Chapter 1″ (the “young Hanzo chapter”) will be called “Reaver.”  This is due to his updated role in the plot.  His background has changed only slightly.
If it wasn’t apparent, this “Reaper” was meant to act as a plot device to cause confusion over Gabriel/Reaper’s actions after the fall of Overwatch, but that has changed because:
I’m switching to Crisis-era and “undercover mercenary” Reaper.
If you’ve read some of my more recent posts on Moira, you’ll know that I’ve switched over to supporting the idea that “something went wrong with Gabriel Reyes during SEP/the Crisis.”  This is due to the fact that you can find a folder labeled “Soldier ID: 24″ in Moira’s Oasis lab, that Michael Chu said that Reyes was interested in getting her help on “matters of genetics,” and that this appears to mesh the “Reaper has existed for decades” concept in Reaper’s hero profile.
Truth be told, I’ve actually been a supporter of this idea of “Gabriel has been Reaper behind the scenes for decades” plot point for a long, long time, almost as long as I’ve been posting Old Habits.  “Reaper”/“Reaver” was semi-messy OC that attempted to bridge Reaper’s original hero profile with the “Old Soldiers” explanation that Gabriel/Reaper gave that “Jack and Overwatch ‘left [him] to suffer.’”  However, I also knew when writing Old Habits that the “Mercy is evil” theory was ALSO not true, so I was kinda stuck:
“If Gabriel = Reaper for decades, why did he appear to blame Jack and Overwatch for his current condition?”
My original solution was to make “Reaper” a different character and have him operating the situation in the background (like a mystery story), but over time this solution got trickier and trickier to work with.  With Moira, I have a chance to rework much of Old Habits/AOFA to better suit some of the details that have come out since drafting it.
This does mean, unfortunately, that all the “76+127″ content is going to become its own, standalone series.
To switch over to integrating “Soldier: 24,” the “76+127″ stories will have to become their own standalone series.  Don’t worry - I’m not deleting anything.  Old content from “Old Habits” will be moved to their own fics, so you can read the whole thing in chronological order.
A new version of my updated ideas on SEP has already started being drafted.  Writing it out is just a matter of time at this point, haha.
The conspiracy/Talon council “mysteries” will become more transparent almost immediately.
With Moira, I finally get the chance to explore some of my ideas in “full format” instead of the kinda awkward “Sombra hacking a chat log” parts yall originally got.  This DOES mean that written portions will suddenly be much, MUCH longer.  For example:
Old Habits original chapter 10 (Sombra hacks an SSO chat log): 17 pages
Old Habits revised chapter 10 (Moira discusses the Route 66 battle with council members + Sombra hacks a chat log): closer to 34 pages
The explosion fight has been changed.
Because of the changes to Gabriel’s plot, the nature of the explosion fight between him and Jack has changed significantly.  It does incorporate new information that Moira revealed.
If it wasn’t obvious, I’ve had a draft version of my ideas for the fight sitting in GDocs for about a year now, and I use that for all my flashback/memories, and also for when Reaper and Soldier: 76 are arguing in the present.  There was a major plot point in the explosion fight that I was extremely uncomfortable with, but found it to be “solid angst material.”  In retrospect, I dislike this plot point and have removed it for another plot point that sits better with me, and fits the overall story more comfortably (I think).
So yes, I DO have a new draft of the explosion fight - written completely from scratch, 100% different in tone and emotionality.  Parts of this should begin to show in updates to Chapter 13, when Soldier: 76/Jack reflects on some of the fight.
The Goal:
The goal for AOFA right now is to update Old Habits in “two big batches” - update the first half (Chapters 1 - 15) within 1 - 2 weeks, and then update the second half (Chapters 16 - 31) shortly after.  Optimistically, before January, but realistically, closer to late-January/early-February.
Thanks for sticking with me - both with this post, and with my life changes.  Things are incredibly and often overwhelmingly busy for me, and I don’t really know where many of these things (both personal stuff and fic stuff) will end up.  I really do appreciate any and all support, even if I’m not able to respond to comments.  You guys make it worthwhile to keep writing, and I apologize for how distant I’ve been with this stuff.
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