#this post is sponsored by my coworkers who keep coming to me with “this is urgent” jobs

[singaporesainz]

Multiple hot takes in this one:

I think people who keep up with wags are weird especially those who make fan pages and defend them like they know them especially for the wags who literally never interact with people so you don’t even know their personalities. I think it’s also weird when you see a photo of a driver with their partner ie Oscar and lily and people go oh she’s Barbie and he’s there I guess like you can compliment her but putting down a person to compliment another is crazy to me. It’s just icky because if someone said that to my partner or about them I’d be upset. It’s just weird 😰 obviously there are exceptions for if they’re in their own field and you genuinely like their work then that’s okay. Like Alex’s gf lily who’s a pro golfer, but only liking their stuff when it’s attached to said driver and them being a wag is the weird bit.

Speaking of Oscar, this is more Charles fans, I love Charles a lot but those Charles fans who come out of the woodwork to use Oscar to put lando down is insane. Lando will have a bad stop and Oscar will do a good thing and I just see all these Charles fans saying Oscar finally showing lando he’s washed or I bet landos pissed Oscar won before him, which has been proven wrong on many occasions he’s proud of Oscar and does everything to bring it up knowing Oscar won’t really brag about it . Like you guys should be more worried about what war Ferrari is brewing over there instead of trying to make it seem like lando and Oscar hate eachother.

Which brings me to my third take, I love c2 content it’s great but people who are deluding themselves into thinking they’re besties is crazy. It’s okay they can just be teammates no one’s gonna die. I feel like people use the excuse oh well would you laugh with someone you hated? Uh yes especially if I have to work with them, you can also have good times with someone you don’t like. Plus they get paid for this so obviously theyre gonna laugh and do whatever to secure their seats. I’m not saying they hate eachother either I’m just saying they’re coworkers atleast and at most friends but those type of friends you make in certain classes so it makes time go faster ya know.

Also Carlos needs to muzzle his mother because lord I would not let my family members have twter accounts or social media accounts. The way you could literally lose your seat over something a family member likes is crazy. Like why was she beefing with Ferraris long standing driver you’d think she’d want her son to keep his chair especially since Carlos’ sponsor backing is leaving the team. I’d be all up on twter liking c2 content and even some Charles posts congratulating him on doing good like cmon. Shit talking your competitor isn’t gonna work with Carlos like it did his dad in rallying but that’s neither here nor there

One last thing which might be so controversial but like I gotta say it. Checo hate is ridiculous, Yes he made the woman should be in the kitchen statement but you have to understand that was a long time ago and after that incident he apologized profusely and he even has an organization to help young women in motorsports and always mentions the women who work in motorsports. Yes he shouldn’t have said it in the first place but he has learned and grown and showed that he grew from that. It’s a lot more than some of the current drivers who have said or laughed at jokes at women’s expenses and never apologize. hate him for cheating, like honestly there’s a few drivers I don’t like because of cheating that’s just a moral thing on my end but I think the unnecessary hate is unneeded.

This just came to me while rereading this but also those people who compared Bianca being ableist to lando moaning in stream are mad weird. So obsessed too like yall are missing the whole point of why everyone’s upset just so you can whine about how you don’t like lando like he’s not a 25 year old man who can do what he wants. Lando being silly and horny on stream is not the same as using autism as a derogatory word towards another driver who is doing your dream job ((finishing 27th in your championship while your teammates all finished 1-2-3 is embarrassing) (don’t even get me started on her exploiting her brother))

Anyways just wanted to get that off my chests sorry for the essay 🤞😺

girlie pop this is an ESSAY, and im glad you decided to get it off your chest on my blog fr. though i will say that i do not have it in me to respond to every point to great detail so, sorry.

keeping up with wags -> i've been saying this and i agree. wag obsessed people are fucking weird i could go into heavy detail and i have.

oscar -> i didn't think charles fans were doing that thought it was just people who had a general distaste for lando. i've seen the discourse about how lando is probably hurt/salty/angry but people like to make something out of nothing. theyre bored.

c2 -> my personal take is theyre strictly work friends. like neither of them would go out of their way to try and hangout beyond the track, but they get along fine when they need to. i dont think there are any ill feelings there btjm

carlos's mom -> yeah don't know what to say about this except she's a mom being a mom, and not realizing that her likes are public. can't speak to reyes and her ways, as i've said before i try not to pay too much attention to watch goes on outside of carlos really.

checo hate -> i know it exists but i havent come across it to get into detail. but wild loud hate on any driver i think is fucking ridiculous. like the haters who are loud and proud and harassing the driver?? theyre gross and pathetic.

bianca discourse -> didn't know people were comparing??? girlie idk what side of social media you're on but it sounds like a weird and scary place. and people who are doing that are just trying to find a way to diminish her and validate their burning desire to just hate on her.

#hot take hotline #wag discourse #oscar piastri #c2 #carlos sainz #checo perez #bianca busamante

[only-freaking-sunflowers]

Why I didn’t actually hate my shitty job?

Just a wee blog post amongst all the Eurovision flooding your dash right now. Sponsored by Uber Eats, Google Sheets, and Neurodivergency. 

I’ll keep this as brief as possible. LOL jk I probably won’t, let’s be honest. 

At the end of December, I started working for a local music school. You know, the kind that teaches kids to play the piano or the guitar, or (unfortunately) the violin. (I’m surprised at how many people think it’s cool that I worked at a music school, idk what they’re picturing? It wasn’t that cool.)

And no, this is not at all where I pictured myself, or at all what I went to school for. It just beat going back to the mall, cause working retail kicked my ASS.  

And here’s exactly the thing. This place– while absolutely laden with the kind of bullshit that only small businesses run by a Gen-X white man with an inflated ego are– did not kick my ass. On the day to day, it was actually quite pleasant to be there. And best of all, it was neurodivergent friendly.

What I mean by that is that I got quiet time at the start of my day to ease into things before the kids arrived, drink coffee and answer emails, not to mention that my day started at 12:30pm which is freaking fantastic for my sleep-wake delay. The music teachers, the coworkers I had physically around me everyday (other admin staff, like me, I only ever saw over Zoom, I was the only admin in my location) were lovely people who made the environment really fun. I’m not a kids person really, but I saw the kids in brief passings while they waited for their teacher to be ready for them or their parent to come pick them up. I let them draw on the windows and always had a stocked basket of stickers, so I gained my cool status twice over. I got to run pretty much all the creative aspects of the studio– I wrote on the windows in chalk markers, I decorated the whiteboards, I hung streamers and holiday decor, not to mention learning how to use Canva so I could make our social medias pretty and engaging. And I got to be surrounded my music and creativity all day. 

And I didn’t take it too seriously. It’s music lessons, it’s supposed to be fun. This isn’t a law firm or a hospital, it’s a music school. We’re in the business of letting kids have fun and foster a love for a music and creative expression, the same love that I have.

I felt love for this place and I wanted everyone else to, as well. If you haven’t been able to tell yet, I lead from love, always.

Sometimes I let the mundane tasks slip, I’ll admit. I didn’t take the trash out when it was raining. I didn’t always clean the toilets. Sometimes the phone calls waited until I could muster the energy to talk to a stranger over the phone (but they always got done).

This place definitely had its problems. So many problems. As I said, so much bullshit that only a place like this could have. And our management/staffing structure was.... abhorrent. I had a lot of piling responsibilities, being the only admin staff to work there full-time. We didn’t have a kitchen or a break room, or a fire alarm... or much of anything at all. Let’s not even start on the surveillance issue.

I should’ve run from this place way sooner.

But I liked it there.

No one really gets why. And that’s okay. I’ve had to justify it a few times over the past two weeks– as two and a half weeks ago, I was abruptly fired, and I’ve had to say to people in my life that yes, I worked in a hurricane but specifically I worked in the eye, so it was actually kind of pleasant to be there, even if it was a disaster.

I just texted my favourite coworker cause I remembered her birthday. She turns the big 3-0 today. She said she hopes I’m well and she misses working with me. I never got to say goodbye to her, even though she was the last person I talked to before I got fired, we were making plans for advertising the summer recital as we walked out to our cars at the end of the night. Then I got fired in the morning before she got to work. 

This nagging non-hatred of the job, however shitty it really was, really muddles with the righteous anger of being fired. So I had to put these words somewhere. Apparently Tumblr is useful for more than shitposting and gifsets, huh.

Anyway I’ve applied for 15 jobs this past week so God give me the strength.

#Just belle things #long post #personal

[dxppercxdxver]

I posted 25,704 times in 2022

That's 16,649 more posts than 2021!

491 posts created (2%)

25,213 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@firstmatedville

@canwriteitbetterthanueverfeltit

@deathofdelta

@ghostbrawl

@simple-crabman

I tagged 5,497 of my posts in 2022

#radio free junebug - 539 posts

#my chemical romance - 416 posts

#spies are forever - 327 posts

#jukebox - 307 posts

#goncharov - 280 posts

#gerard way - 266 posts

#tag game - 261 posts

#words - 234 posts

#unreality - 190 posts

#reblogging for reference - 176 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#the book where one of the girls' bodies like. rejects the crocodile dna and she's just constantly sick and can't hold onto one body shape???

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

every day i think about mikey way’s nastya rasputina era. not for any particular reason i just do

87 notes - Posted August 1, 2022

#4

the consistent dichotomy of gavin making himself a fucking chore to talk to and then being so angry when nines won’t talk to him is just like. i don’t know how to tell you this mr. reed but sometimes you are in fact the problem

87 notes - Posted April 1, 2022

#3

after. four rewatches of headless, two of which were sponsored by dragging my parents into watching it with me, here’s a thought that i thunk.

spoilers below!!!

at least three of the characters (ichabod, matilda, baltus) all have fake books that they store their possessions inside. this makes varying levels of sense for their characters; matilda for the Vibes of spooky witch lady, baltus for keeping his bribery checks a secret, and ichabod for the fact that he’s a people pleaser who probably bought it off matilda to make her happy, but also ties in to a greater theme of the series.

(literally) not judging a book by its cover.

all three of these characters—and more!!—have ulterior agendas that are revealed throughout the series. ichabod isn’t just some dweeb in sleepy hollow by happenstance, he’s a descendant of the storms family, come back to town to right an ancient wrong. he is also a dweeb, but like. a cool dweeb. matilda isn’t just a witch, she’s keeping the undead corpse of her best friend alive with ancient evil magics and covertly working against her new friends. baltus isn’t just the town’s genial mayor, but a cutthroat politician who killed two people in his attempt to kill a third.

similarly, this lends itself to the story’s theme as a whole, that people are far more than what you expect. although this is plain to see in characters like brom (and his babes), who start off as airhead jocks with some pithy social commentary and wind up as airhead jocks with hearts of gold and loyalties as strong as the horseman’s sword, it is exemplified with the character of the horseman herself. so much of headless is about reexamining history and stripping away old biases. everyone believes the horseman is a decapitated hessian soldier, but is actually a woman practically written out of history in favor of her more famous husband. it’s about doing away with commonly accepted narratives and taking a closer look at the stories that accumulated to build the myth we all know today.

the fake books are both windows into the souls of their owners and the soul of the entire story!!! on the outside?? a beheaded hessian!!! on the inside??? a doing away with the ideas of colonialist cis white male-centric historical narratives that get preserved and a doing of justice for the names that get left out!!! it kicks ass!!!!! it kicks so much ass!!!!!

159 notes - Posted November 20, 2022

#2

dracula stripping his house before jonathan arrives:

895 notes - Posted May 7, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

in my dad’s valiant effort to not misgender people his brain has somehow short circuited and he’s they/them-ing Everyone. my mom? they/them now. his coworkers? all they/them. no one can escape. atad. assigned they at dad

37,301 notes - Posted May 13, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#radio free junebug #damn bitch okay

[wesimpforxiao]

Inception: Chapter 1

Author’s Note:  Welcome everyone to my Childe x Reader fanfiction! Decided to post the first (and only so far) chapter since I’m happy with it.  Hope you enjoy this sneak peek!!!

Now where did Mr. Zhongli run off to?  Wherever you'd end up, you'd miss the man by a hair.  Running errands for Hu Tao was practically the equivalent to a wild goose chase.  "Wait a second!"  A sudden realization stopped you in your tracks, and a few customers that were buying kites held startled expressions from your yelp.  "She's pranking me again, isn't she?!"

Zhongli was inspecting noticulous jade samples behind you when he heard a female voice yell to no one in particular.  He turned to see you, completely deflated for reasons unknown to him.  Shouldn't you be at the parlor overseeing your duties in the presence of Hu Tao?  What were you doing out here?  "What seems to be the matter, Reed?"

"ZHONGLI!"  Another yelp, and this time the customers nearby became more annoyed.  You spun on your heel and meet your coworker's gaze.  "I've been looking everywhere for you! Um, Hu Tao wanted me to give you these," you promptly handed a small stack of slightly crumpled documents to him.  "She said they were really important...?"

"Let me see..." Golden eyes turned their attention to the script with the utmost focus before he heaved a tiresome sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Is...something the matter?"  You could've sworn everything was in order...maybe it was possible that in your rush to find him, you had lost a paper or two without noticing?

"What is it exactly that Hu Tao instructed you to do?"  His voice held a tinge of exhaustion, but it went unnoticed by you.

"She just told me to find you and give you the documents, and that you'd know what to do with them.  And she also told me not to look at them.  Why?"

Another sigh, and the documents were handed back to you.  "I apologize, but it appears that you've fallen victim to her...childish antics yet again."  

He was right.  The documents were nothing more than a bunch of gibberish and what looked like to be a horrible attempt to draw Zhongli on one of the papers next to one scribble that was labelled 'doodoo.'  "You've got to be joking."  The scowl on your face was enough to get Zhongli to clear his throat in an effort to dissuade you from your anger.  You were an incredibly nice and patient person, but Zhongli's seen you angry once before.  It was not something he'd like to see again, and with every passing prank, you got closer and closer to snapping at your boss.

"My apologies," he sympathized.  He couldn't exactly keep up with the parlor director's childish ways either, after all.

That was three hours of my day.  You crumpled the papers in your hands before tossing them in the trash.  "Sorry to bother you Zhongli, I'll be heading back to the parlor now."

You took the long way back to the funeral parlor, making a point to walk across the docs that shouldered the sea.  It was well-deserved, you thought, since Hu Tao was constantly testing your patience and you had yet to snap.  If she really needed you today, she wouldn't have sent you on a needless hunt to deliver unnecessary documents.  So what if you showed up a little late now? It was her doing!

The docks were quiet with the occasional pigeons and seagulls cooing as they searched for their next meal--or their next pooping target.  A few pigeons scattered into the wind once you reached a railing that overlooked one of the merchant ships.  

It had been quite some time since your mother brought you across the sea to escape the influences of the Fatui in Snezhnaya--it had to be at least a decade by now, actually.  The Fatui that were stationed near your hometown were a reckless, malicious bunch, and weren't even kind to their own people despite their cohort existing to serve the people.

'To serve the people' was more like 'to serve the Tsaritsa.'  Neglect against her own people soon became a mutual feeling in your town.  She let her Fatui rats run about with no punishment for falling out of line...the audacity! A god is supposed to protect and nurture their people, not toss them aside or save them to be used.

The glimmering of the ocean below the deck only briefly dragged out out of your memories before you fell into them much like a wave washes over the beach.

You still remembered the day when your best friend went missing, and when he finally turned up ragged and dirty a few days later.  He never spoke of what happened, but it wouldn't surprise you if it had anything to do with the agents in your town.  He changed from a hesitant boy to a rambunctious, feisty kid--and the arrogance was insanely annoying.  But just as you tried to get closer to him, your mom decided his mysterious circumstances were what she needed to get herself and you out of Snezhnaya.

"I don't know what happened to you, Ajax, but I hope you're okay."

...........................................

Today's such a beautiful day!  You stretched your arms with content to get the aches of walking all morning out of your shoulders.  Slouching was a horrible habit of yours.  But no matter, it was time to celebrate! Hu Tao finally cut you loose from her list of unfortunate victims of her shenanigans, instead setting her sights on some exorcist that went by the name 'Chongyun.'  Since he wasn't related to the parlor's services--at least, not that you were aware--you didn't know him personally.

That poor soul has no idea what's coming to him, you think as you absently scan the papers in your hands that the parlor director had given you to give to Zhongli before the day's end--you had learned your lesson from last time, and inspected each stack she'd give you.  But as bad as I feel for him, I can't complain since I'm finally scot-free of her.

You made your way toward Liuli Pavilion, where Zhongli had informed you earlier this morning that he'd be conducting a meeting with one of the parlor's biggest funders.  There he is now! And...sitting alone?

"Mr. Zhongli?"  Your quiet interruption shifted his attention from the vivid storytelling of the storyteller to you.  "Did you have your meeting yet?"

"No, he should be arriving shortly," the consultant answered and placed his teacup down.  "What did you need me for?"

"Hu Tao sent me on another errand, er, a valid one this time.  I guess one of our customers was wondering what recommendations you had regarding these?"  A quick hand-off of the documents pertaining the names of precious stones, and Zhongli shut out the story of the ventures of Rex Lapis and his former companion, Azhdaha.

Your eyes left Zhongli for a moment and watched the storyteller's movements.  I've heard this one before.  Azhdaha was reprimanded for turning against humanity, wasn't he?  I wonder what that was like for our god.  To be betrayed by a close friend-

"I see.  Noticulous jade would be the best option considering it's vibrant purple tones, but the beauty of cor lapis when significantly refined to its utmost potential is a valid approach for the ceremony as well.  Why don't we purchase both?  You and I can inspect the nearby stores tomorrow morning."

Honestly, I don't know why I bother asking if his answer is always 'We'll take them all,' your lips twitched from restraining a laugh and you returned your sights on the consultant.  "Alright, let's do that."

"Mr. Zhongli! It's great to see you," an unfamiliar man approached the table with a friendly smile.  "I hope I didn't keep you waiting long."  The confidence that radiated from his stride was enough to make you shrivel up on yourself.  That, and the afternoon light that bounced off of his bright gray clothes half-blinded you.

"Not at all.  Please take a seat.  Reed, why don't you join us?"  Zhongli was aware of your intense opinions of the Fatui, but then again, who in Liyue didn't have a problem with the organization at the moment? Especially after their most recent incident with Osial...and the issue himself was sitting right across the table.  Perhaps meeting such a dangerous individual would dissuade you from pursuing that nighttime hobby of yours...

"Oh, I don't want to intrude.  Isn't this a private meeting?"

"I don't mind," said the red-headed stranger.

Zhongli gestured toward the third chair at the table, and you hesitantly obeyed.  A few minutes couldn't hurt.  You used the moment to get you situated and check out the guy to your left.  He didn't seem familiar, but he had this air about him that was...distinct, if that made any sense.  Familiar yet unfamiliar.  For someone being labelled as one of the most prominent sponsors of the funeral parlor, he didn't button his jacket properly, and a portion of his abdomen was visible while a hydro vision sat comfortably attached to his beltloop.  Or perhaps that was the way the jacket was designed?

Why am I even contemplating this? You peeled your eyes away from his torso in a hurry, and they settled on your hands in your lap.  Way to make a first impression.

"Reed, I would like to introduce you to Ma-"

"Ajax!"  Childe's voice overtook Zhongli's introduction.  "I go by Ajax, it's nice to meet you."  He held out a gloved hand for you to shake.  He didn't think it would be possible to ever see you again, not after your mom took you across the sea, so he spat out a lie without thinking.  Then again, even as a child you hated the Fatui--rightfully so-- so it wouldn't have been a good idea to introduce himself as the very harbinger that almost drowned Liyue.  Childe thought he had recognized you by your hair and the way you walked, but it was so long ago, and the memory of you had long since faded into a blurry image.  But 'Reed'...It couldn't be some coincidence that he met you here.

And by your reaction, he could say his intuition served him right.  "A-Ajax?"  You sat up taller than before, not quite comprehending the situation at first.  The name, the face, those blue eyes--it had to be him.  "Ajax from Snezhnaya?"

"I would hope I'm the only Ajax you know."  Childe shot you a friendly smile, but some smidge of jealousy lie in the depths of his otherwise vacant gaze. Perhaps it could even be considered threatening, or possessive.  He was the only Ajax you knew, right?

"Oh thank the archons you're alright," you released the breath you didn't know you were holding in.  It was all you managed to get out before remembering that a certain party was sitting to your right.  "O-Oh! Zhongli! We knew each other before I emigrated to Liyue-"

"Childhood friends," the harbinger grinned slightly as he met the consultant's confused yet stern gaze.  Something deadly flashed in his eyes, daring Zhongli to speak up and correct his own introduction.

Zhongli wasn't anywhere near afraid or intimidated by Childe, but despite this he did not reveal Childe's true identity.  Perhaps there was a reason the harbinger was posing as his younger self, like he was protecting the image of the perfect older brother for you just as he did with Teucer.

That, and Zhongli had vowed not to meddle in these types of matters just as he neglected to tell Childe he was the geo archon.  It was not his business if Childe chose to deceive you just as he deceived Childe, but if the harbinger posed a threat to you or anyone in Liyue again...Let's just say the passive Zhongli would put his foot down.

"I see," said Zhongli with a thoughtful gaze as he picked up his half-full cup of tea.  "May I inquire as how you two met?"

"Well," you leaned back in your seat and stared at one of the passing clouds as you attempted to recollect old memories.  "I don't remember exactly, but we ran into each other at one of the local markets that stood between our hometowns.  You should've seen him back then Zhongli, he was a nervous reck!"

Childe visibly grimaced at your bluntness, but Zhongli let out a low chuckle.  "Is that so?"  This earned a glare from the harbinger.

"Yes!  He was always second-guessing himself.  I was always the one wearing the pants in the friendship whenever we got to see each other!  And then..."  Your expression darkened as you remembered his disappearance, and his concerning change of attitude when he returned.  But just as quickly as the distasteful memory showed on your face, it was tossed away with a shake of the head.  "You know, there was one time where he had gotten in trouble with one of the local fisherman because he--"

"Now, now!"  Childe interrupted with a slightly aggressive--no, embarrassed--tone.  "I don't think Mr. Zhongli would be interested in--"

"On the contrary, I would be more than delighted to hear of Ajax's childhood stories," Zhongli sipped away at his tea, making a point to emphasize the new name while staring straight Childe.

"Aw, you embarrassed?"  Childe wanted to wipe that smug grin off your face for noticing.  He thought he was great at hiding his emotions, but with your surprise appearance, he was a bit more than caught off guard.  You covered your mouth and leaned toward Zhongli while whispering, "I'll tell you later, promise!"

Childe let out something of a strangled chuckle that made the corner of Zhongli's lips twitch upward.  "So, what have you been up to all this time?"

"Well, I've been working at the funeral parlor with Zhongli for the past year or so," you leaned back with a thoughtful gaze.  "I live by myself now; mom died a few years ago.  Oh, I've been training since I got here, too.  You can't trust the Fatui anywhere in Teyvat.  That, and anyone that roams around late at night.  Better safe than sorry."

"So you fight?"  Childe's eyes lit up like a fire was lit, and you smile turned into a frown.

"Don't tell me you're still..."  But with his slightly oblivious tilt of the head, you couldn't bring yourself to bring up that portion of your history.  Not yet.  "If need be, yes."  The best option was to change the subject, especially to spare Zhongli of what could possibly turn into an argument.  "How did you find yourself in Liyue?"

"I..."  A glance was sent briefly in Zhongli's direction, but he purposely ignored it.  "I'm a toy seller these days."

"Augh--"  A sputtered cough came from Zhongli, and he dabbed at his lips with a handkerchief.  "Ahem...Apologies, it appears I choked on a bit of tea."

After an awkward laugh escaped Childe, you turned back to him.  "A toy seller?  You?"  Was it relief you felt, or a feeling of on-edge?  Perhaps it'd be better if he turned out nice enough to become a toy seller, but with the way you two left things in Snezhnaya, you'd thought it be more likely that he'd end up arrested.  Or join the Fatui.  Or just anything involving violence.  Not sure of what to make of his words, you snapped to Zhongli.  "Wait, I thought you had a meeting with one of the benefactors of the funeral parlor?  Why would a toy seller be involved with us?"

"Yes, I've wondered that myself," Zhongli set his empty teacup aside and faced Childe directly to bait him.  "You've never told me the story.  How did you find yourself involved with the parlor, Ajax?"

The hint of a smirk on the consultant's lips made the harbinger's blood boil even though he managed to keep his façade of a smile plastered on his face.  "Well, I wouldn't want to bore you with the details, it's an uninteresting story!"

"Tell me," you begged, eyes sparkling in anticipation.  "It might not be boring to us!"

"Yes, do tell," Zhongli encouraged.

You're enjoying this too much, Mr. Zhongli.  Childe did his best to hide his annoyance under his signature grin.

........................................

The sigh that escaped the harbinger once you left to finish your duties at the parlor prompted Zhongli to raise a brow at him.  "Shut up," Childe muttered without sparing a glance his way.  He knew you were hateful of the Fatui; that's most likely why he lied without a second thought, but as to why he'd bother doing so since you weren't close anymore was unknown.

At least, to Childe it was.  Zhongli had already figured it out by the lengthy conversation of Childe's extensive toy seller lie.  "You two were more than 'close' back in Snezhnaya, were you not?"  

"Don't overthink it Zhongli, we were only friends."

"And yet you wear your Harbinger status proudly on your sleeve."

"What're you implying?"  Childe, growing impatient and bored of the conversation, shifted in his seat.  You had left as their meals were served, so to his utmost horror, he now realized he was given chopsticks to use for his dish.  

"You also don't like deceiving others unlike your fellow harbingers."

A disgusted scoff left his lips as he lifted his chopsticks.  "...You think I, Tartaglia, am in love with a childhood friend?  My my my, Mr. Zhongli, it seems you've finally lost your marbles after living six thousand years. Perhaps living among humans has taken a toll on your wisdom."

"There are several reasons for which a person would lie."  Zhongli lowered his voice as the storyteller finished his monologue.  "The only one that would make sense after observing you for so long would be infatuation."

Childe had tuned him out by now, concentrating with furrowed brows on holding his dumplings correctly in-between his chopsticks.  But they were too heavy, what with his hand shaking the utensils, and they fell back on the plate with a wet plop.  Curse these stupid-  Childe nearly threw them at the building to his left, but restrained himself before he could lose to his frustrations.  Instead he used one chopstick to stab the dumpling and in an exasperated huff, shoved it into his mouth.

"So, what is the real reason you're back in Liyue?"  Zhongli set his third cup of tea aside after watching the pitiful struggle before him.  "It had sounded like you'd be in Snezhnaya for quite some time before returning, yet here you are only months after Osial."

"Oh," Childe sat up, only now remembering that what he had told you earlier was a drastic lie.  "I've been meaning to ask you about the matters I'm dealing with.  The Fatui here are fed-up with some...vigilante that interferes with their work here.  Whoever's at fault is clearly an amateur, but my subordinates here are apparently too incompetent to catch them.  They're stealing important documents from the Northland Bank, setting traps on the roadsides, and even breaking into our apartments to steal the agents' uniforms."

Zhongli cradled his chin in his hand while in deep thought.  He's heard of such a person; they often came to the parlor in the early morning hours to avoid getting caught since their living quarters were on the opposite side of town--he caught them more than once, out of breath, and dressed in black.

"--Basically the men are agitated at this point and threatening to leave their posts, and everyone's on edge because of another matter that may be related.  A few of our agents have gone missing with no trace, so I am here to locate them.  Whoever this vigilante is might know something; both occurrences started approximately three months ago."  Childe grabbed his last dumpling and ate it before leaning back in his seat.  "So, given that you are the wisest man in Liyue, I decided to come to you for advice.  Would you happen to know of anyone or anything involved?"

"Yes," Zhongli hummed, eyes downcast and settled on his folded hands.  "It's possible I hold information valuable to your search."

Childe's pupils lit up in delight.  "Oh?  Do enlighten me."

"But first, the vigilante is not related to your missing men," he took another sip of tea, lost in thought.  "And they are more or less an amateur seeking to disrupt Fatui operations, but they don't usually harm your agents--"

"That's inaccurate to say, Zhongli.  Last week three of my guys came back with broken noses or fractured arms."

--that I know of."  A pointed glare just made the harbinger lean forward against the table.

"You know who I'm searching for."

"Perhaps."

"Then spill."

"Am I really obligated to tell you based on your earlier behavior?"

"Mr. Zhongli, this person poses a serious threat to the health of my men, and potentially their lives.  Do you not care that human lives are at stake because of this...this...killer?"

Says the man who tried to drown my country.  "As usual, you are making brash assumptions.  They are not a killer, and they are not dangerous unless backed into a corner."

Childe was growing sick of beating around the bush, so he deadpanned.  "Zhongli."

The former archon let out a low sigh before meeting his gaze.  "As long as you remember what I just said, then I suppose I'll let you know.  The person you're searching for is the same person you lied to at this table."

#inception #wesimpforxiao #genshin x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact childe #childe genshin impact #genshin impact

[juniaships]

Loonatics Reboot: Origins

The cousins of the world-famous Looney Tunes, the Loonatics are resident protectors of the progressive city-state, Acmetropolis. Currently there are seven members headed by their mysterious mentor, but for now let's dive in deeper into the origin story of the first six Loonatics. We'll get to number seven in the future! 💛💛💛

The story goes, the Loonatics came about by chance. You see, not too long ago six individuals volunteered for an experiment conducted by the city's namesake ACME (the business). As all of them needed the extra cash, they didn't mind being used as temporary guinea pigs if it meant having the funds to pursue their dreams or pay the rent.

Unfortunately the test did not produced the expected results and was marked off as a failure. While the group were paid they were disappointed & went back to their normal lives.

Until abnormalities started cropping up.

One volunteer, a college freshman named Lexi Bunny, began hearing things, increased migraines, and physically cringing at even moderately loud sounds. Such condition affected the way she moved and grooved to the beat (she was an avid dancer) and one day, she had passed out from the pressure and sent to the emergency room. While she recovered she began seeing everything in a pink haze. Lexi didn't know exactly caused her health emergency but she had a feeling that it had something to do with the experiment. But she kept quiet, she wasn't one to stand up for herself, remembering a horrid incident trying out for her school's cheer squad. She wondered what the other volunteers were feeling...

The second volunteer was an Acmewood stunt artist named Ace Bunny (yeah yeah he's related to Bugs now let him train in peace). Whenever Ace felt particularly confident, he saw his vision turn red...literally. His eyes burned no matter how much ice or eyedrops he used. During rehearsals he started to notice how every time someone went to strike him, he dodged them every. Single. Time. Many of the crew members lucky to see were impressed, shocked even (much to the displeasure of the lead actor) & leaving the Looney cousin embarrassed at the increased attention.

The fourth volunteer was a scientist named Tech E Coyote. Like Duck he also lost his job though unlike Duck he was on the receiving end of an angry coworker. The poor man was left to craft consolation contraptions in the solitude of his workshop. One night he noticed some pieces of metal clinging to his lab-coat. At first he brushed them off but they stuck to his hands. He made a note to himself to use anti-static softener; but after several wash days the problems persisted and very soon larger pieces of metal started clinging to his clothes, hands, all around his body - one incident he knocked himself out with a frying pan! He also took notes of lights flickering around him, computers and screens turning on and off whenever he walked near them.

The third volunteer was a young man barely out of his teen years simply known as Duck. Danger Duck. He worked as a pool boy ironically had a hot temper. To put it best he loathed his job, feeling not being taken seriously by the oh-so-macho lifeguards that picked on him constantly. One minute he was complaining about his job, and the next thing he knew, he was standing in the middle of a desert. Than back to the pool. Than an artic region! He also complained of tingling sensations in his fingers, as if he dumped his hands in a bowl of cut peppers. And after one particularly frustrating day, he got so made he raised his threw something at the lifeguard... something red-hot and round...which nearly costed the lifeguard his life yet ALSO caused Duck to lose his job.

Rev, a pizza delivery man with a sense of words and no sense of direction, was the onlt one whose problems weren't seen. Not at least externally. During his trips he was relieved to not miss addresses as much as he used to. Maybe a stroke of luck he guessed. But now it seems his brain was replaced by a GPS because days by he can verbally recite the location almost every place in Acmetropolis from the tallest skyscraper to the dingey of alleyways. Not even having to travel to these places.

As for Slam, his already phenomenal strength increased tenfold, and so did his speed. Such growth massively helped his wrestling career. Every time he spun however, he swore he felt and heard the crick-crackle-boom of lightning...which one day during a match he accidentally electrocuted his opponent, promptly suspended for the rest of the season. At least the guy was alive...a cooked steak but alive.

Eventually these side effects took their toll and the citizens finally had enough. Weeks after the test the group went back to Acme to report on what they were experiencing, hoping to get some compensation to pay off frequent trips to the hospital.

To their surprise ACME was pleased to hear the results of the experiment had been successful after all. The CEO, Otto Matthias, saw potential in the ragtag group of Tunes and offered them a deal: work for his company as sponsored superheroes. There was a mixed reaction: Tech was skeptical, as was Lexi and Slam. Ace didn't know what to think of the deal, he wanted to be recognized for his talents. Danger was the only one totally on board with the plan (no more finding lost trunks). Rev was also excited yet nervous at the prospect. Otto added that the offer came with free housing, access to any and all Acme products, and a lifetime supply of Scooby Snacks (much to Slam's fancy).

Duck didn't have to hear anymore before immediately agreeing to the deal. He did not want to go back to being a lowly pool boy or any other position to be laughed at and bullied, and saw the deal as a surefire way to success. The rest of the group & Scooby Snack Slam decided to wait a week before giving their answer. Acme signed Duck as Danger Duck, the Living Magma Extraordinaire! Cool name is it?

Throughout the week the remaining Tunes pondered long and hard about the company's offer. Would this deal really help them find meaning in their otherwise pitiful lives? Or was it all a glorified corporate tactic designed to keep them quiet? Danger Duck, Living Magma Extraordinaire seemed to be having a good time, so they might be missing out on a stable fulfilling lifestyle. Surely it wasn't an evil trick? Right? Right??

The answer to their dilemma showed uo at their door. Literally.

For five days, each person received a visit from a woman dressed in a simple lavender coat with the hood drawn up. From the shadows they could make out ruby-colored lips, yet her eyes seemed to lack irises as they were entirely blank-white.

This woman claimed that she was the creator of the drug and that is was not meant to be in mortal hands. She claimed that Acme stole her formula for personal gain, warning them the CEO was not who he seemed & that they shouldn't take his word. When the civilians asked about Danger Duck, the woman vowed she would do everything in her power to try to steer the young man from a terrible fate.

"How do you know I can trust you?" That was the sentiment shared by the five Tunes, in varying words.

The woman only smiled. "It's all up to you," she simply replied before handing out a shiny triangle with the familiar shield logo on it.

As each Tune took the metallic shape in their hands, they wondered how would this hunk ol metal help them decide their future? The lady's words echoed through their minds...maybe...the shield was a emblem of their roots. How did she know so much about them and so concerned about their lives?

By the morning of the last day, it was Ace who came to his decision first. "I'll believe you," he relented. "If only you'll tell me more about this drug you made."

The woman shook her head. "I'm afraid that'll have to come in a group meeting," she said a bit tersely. The truth is too much to bear on one man.

"Here." She scribbled a few words down on a piece of paper. "Meet me at this location later this afternoon. Don't bring anyone else."

"Okay," Ace said a bit skeptically. He was about to ask more but the lady quickly left with a hurried goodbye. Ace blinked his blue eyes before reading what she had wrote. "I hope this ain't gonna land me on a watchlist," he muttered before starting to prepare for his impromptu meeting. He prayed that he made the right choice.

I'm making this as I go along XD

My goal for this chapter and the next one is to give the team a better backstories and the why and HOW they got together. I know the show had an origin episode but it didn't show them their first mission or how they actually met, only how they got their powers. As this is a reboot there are a lot of changes so instead of being set in the future, it's set in modern era and they're cousins of the Looney Tunes. I'm also trying to give them motivations: Danger Duck seeking fame and fortune; Tech seeking recognition for his genius; Ace forging his own path out of his cousin's shadow. I haven't gotten to Slam & Lexi's motivations as much as that would be for when I get to writing Weathervane (who will be Lexi's foil) and Massive (Slam's foil). Rev's motivation will also be explored as him learning to be more independent away from his family's wealthy lifestyle. As for my OC Mikayla Jordan, she's going to appear in a future post pertaining to the Freleng Royal Family oop spoiled my own OC subplot XD

#fanfiction #loonatics unleashed #loonatics unleashed reboot #looney tunes #ace bunny #lexi bunny #danger duck #tech e coyote #rev runner #slam tasmanian #zadavia #crossover #warner bros #au

[things2mustdo]

I doubt anyone needs to be reminded that the media is rotten to the core; even the most reluctant and closed-minded people are accepting this as a given now. But despite the media being widely condemned nowadays (my special thanks to Germans for bringing the word “Lügenpresse” back), few people know or understand what’s really going on in the journalistic kitchens, where the foul slop of lies that people are fed every day is cooked up. However, there is always a way in—through purposeful infiltration or, in my case, by accident.

I have an old friend—let’s call him Sven—whom I always knew as a kind-hearted and sincere man. However, these traits are also coupled with always assuming the best of people and being rather naive. Due to this, he keeps ending up in awkward and sometimes dangerous situations. One of them turned out to be a short stint as a journalist for a popular online newspaper. He barely maintained contact during his employment and eventually went completely off the grid. In about a month, he resurfaced a changed man, and not for the better. As he explained, he quit the job and then shut himself in for a while, armed with nothing but alcohol, to cope with the depression working as a journalist gave him.

Now, this probably sounds very soft to many of you, including myself. Men don’t sink into depressions or try to drink themselves out of problems. While I granted my friend the clemency of explaining his failures to him, I also recognized the usefulness of his experience and started questioning him about what he saw and heard at the job. I will relay his findings below; however, I will not disclose his true name or the name of his employer—given the “free” country we live in, this can land him in very hot water.

Whoever pays you, owns you

Sven joined the ranks of journalists to tell people the truth. To his credit, he believed he would be doing exactly that. His first assignment sounded so simple, after all—talk to a person, record the conversation, write an article, publish it. The reality turned out to be diametrically different—after our fresh-baked journalist returned from his first interview, he was immediately ordered to transcribe the recording and email it to the content manager. Half an hour later Sven received a heavily edited version of the transcript, with the parts he considered most crucial replaced with meaningless buzzwords or removed completely. When he went to the manager to voice his indignation, the manager simply replied: “This man did not pay us for an article that would disparage him. Get back to your desk.”

This was far from the only case of Sven witnessing how much pull money has in journalism. His numerous colleagues almost never produced independent content—they were too busy publishing one paid article after another. When Sven asked whether these articles should be marked as sponsored, the only reply he got was a bitter laugh. Very often the content manager would come over to his desk and say something along the lines of “Do you know the guy you are writing about is a close friend of our boss? Do not screw this article up.” Sven was also surprised to see that many interviewees (usually politicians) would not even bother to talk to him, instead referring him to their secretaries or assistants. One of them even went as far as to hand him a pre-written speech, tell him to work with it and walk away.

However, our Sven also happens to possess a burning sense of justice, which has several times led him to ignore the “recommendations” his content manager gave him, deviate from the official story and allow small snippets of truth to make their way into public view. For each of such occurrences he was called to the manager’s room, given a strict admonishment and had his paycheck for the month reduced. Any “unsanctioned” things that he wrote were quickly edited away afterwards—even if the article had already been read by thousands of people. And his was supposed to be a “neutral and objective” media outlet!

Standards? Never heard of ’em.

It was a big shock for Sven when he finally realized that his employers were beings without conscience who whored themselves out to the highest bidder. It was an even bigger shock when he discovered how nonchalantly his colleagues treated their responsibilities. Investigative journalists relied on information they got from Google searches and Twitter posts, editors and sub-editors used rumors and hearsay to write scathing op-eds, website managers just posted any content that caught their fancy as long as they could come up with a flashy enough headline for it to attract people. Fact-checking was almost unheard of, unless someone specifically paid for it.

When it came to choosing topics and writing articles, the guideline for the entire establishment was simple: do not make the people angry. Not the regular people, mind you—those were not even considered human beings, just a faceless mass that one threw articles at and got pageviews and money in return. No, the label “people” was reserved for people who mattered. This included representatives of the powers that be, well-known public figures, moneybags with fingers in the political pie and, of course, personal buddies of the outlet’s owner.

These were to be protected, coddled and praised at all costs, while everyone else was fair game. Needless to say, politics held as much sway in the outlet as money did—whenever something noteworthy happened, “protectors of truth and objectivity” immediately went to work spinning the events in a way desirable for those holding their leashes. Hit pieces against political opponents and undesirables were churned out, smokescreens were cast, facts were omitted, denied and misinterpreted. Sven confessed to me later that the day his outlet covered the parliamentary elections was the first day in his life when he spent the entire evening drinking. Journalistic ethics, a term that the media loves throwing left and right, turned out to be nothing but hot air.

In the media omelet, you are an egg

The title says it all. For top dogs in the media business, a rank-and-file worker is not just a pawn—he is a condom. Contrary to what many people think, a typical journalist’s existence is quite pathetic: underpaid, undervalued, thankless and constantly bossed around. Staff turnover in the “kitchen” is very high, and not because people are getting promoted. In this field, the term “veteran employee” frequently means a poor sod who has no alternatives and cannot quit.

According to Sven, plenty of his colleagues worked only for the sake of getting their paycheck, which explains their negligence. Grey faces, pinched mouths, shifty eyes and sour attitudes—whatever it takes to get through the day. In addition, the higher-ups avoided any responsibility for the published content: whenever an angry reader called the office and complained about an article, the guy who wrote it was immediately thrown under the bus, even if his work was reviewed and approved by the management before publication. After all, what does it take to find another office drone with half-decent writing skills?

However, Sven also describes those of his coworkers who enjoyed their job. They arrived at the office with a spring in their step, a smile snaking across their faces and a mischievous glint in their eyes. These were the “talented” favorites of the outlet’s boss—unfeeling, cold assholes who would sell their own mothers for a juicy piece of gossip that they would later smear all over the website. Whenever they got a chance to write a hit piece, spread a nasty rumor or ruin someone’s life, one could almost see them light up from within. Remember all these smug, holier-than-thou, oh-so-intellectual articles churned out by rags like Salon, Dagens Nyheter and Huffington Post? You can bet your pinky finger they were (and are) written by these people. Which brings us to the next topic.

No wrongthink allowed

As you have probably noticed long ago, the media field is a huge and accommodating Petri dish for all varieties of Kulturbolschewismus. In Sven’s case, it wasn’t just a fear-based company policy of snitching and self-censorship, but an actual agenda at work. He told me there was a flowchart hanging in the newsroom explaining what to do when reporting crimes and incidents. It went something like this: “Was the perpetrator native (white)? Y = report in detail, amplify, N = gloss the details over, downplay.”

Sven wrote an article about a national holiday once, but his content manager refused to approve it for publishing due to it being “too patriotic,” advising him instead to “write more inclusively about minorities’ participation in the festival.” Anything praising the country and its indigenous inhabitants was undesirable and omitted whenever possible, while any piece that brimmed with self-hate, praised inhabitants of other (read: African and Muslim) countries or attacked the natives and their way of life was a big hit and flew through approval like a bird.

Needless to say, the outlet’s newsroom was crammed full of women, their pet cucks and, of course, Jews. The former enjoyed absolute power regardless of their position—a simple complaint to HR was enough to fire anyone, no proof required. The cucks, represented by twig-armed, piercing-laden, wispy-bearded creatures in Che Guevara shirts, were very pleased with the way things were going, sipping lattes and snitching to HR on those who expressed ideas incompatible with the narrative. Jews were in their native element in the newsroom, doing their usual “arrogant intellectual” schtick and getting promotions out of nowhere. The majority of articles bashing natives, their culture and values came from them, as later study of the newspaper’s website showed me.

Liars for hire

So, to sum it all up: the media is not composed of good but misguided people, as many still think. On the contrary, it is a very purposeful and self-aware entity that positions itself somewhere between an unscrupulous opportunist and a loyal lapdog of the state. At best, it is faux-patriotic (“such a wonderful country we have, let’s invite more immigrants!”), while at worst, it is openly hostile towards the indigenous population of the country it exists in.

Moreover, it allows for consolidation and self-affirmation of globalist forces—the traitorous governments, the world Jewry, the multinationals, the entertainment industry and the like—against the increasingly disenfranchised and declining native population. And last but not least, the media is complicit in crimes committed in the West by non-White immigrants due to purposeful obfuscation of them and, if that fails, rabble-rousing to pressure the courts into letting the criminals off scot-free. To me, the latter reason alone is enough to send all the journalists and their owners to the gibbet.

The bottom line is to always remember that the media is not your friend in any way, shape or form, even if its lowest tier operatives fit the description of hapless victims rather than nation-wrecking enemies. The media must be opposed, exposed and boycotted at every turn until it starts bleeding money and choking on its own venom.

Read More: Is Washington Post Writer Adam Taylor A Shill Or Part Of Something Larger?

While reading  Roosh’s article about Adam Taylor and the Washington Post, I noticed quite a few things I would like to share with people here. The direct link between Adam Taylor and the Radio Free excerpt is an anomaly. Such blatant copying is a very rare thing to occur because it gives away a possible collusion between entities.

Looking for these open relationships is long and hard. The better way to analyze  the relations and motivations of certain publishers, policy makers and other manipulators  is to study the various themes they put out and where these themes repeat. While Roosh  might assume that Adam Taylor is the paid shill by himself, I’ve noticed that his writing changes to whoever publishes it. Therefore the Washington Post Worldviews section may be the one that is parroting US State Department themes not just Adam Taylor.

As is shown in Roosh’s article, the similarities between Adam Taylor’s piece and Radio Free Europe are quite telling. It is a possibility that it is a coincidence but a small one. People that try to influence public opinion go to great lengths to ensure things like this do not happen which is why I’m assuming that Adam Taylor is  part of larger machine and not a shill by himself.

Looking back at Adam Taylor’s writing for the Huffington Post, he wrote fluff pieces about gay dogs and other mass consumption items for that audience. His writing about geopolitical intrigue only takes the current form when he begins writing for the Washington Post. All his articles are the Who’s Who of what the US State Department doesn’t like. The roster includes Russia, China, Venezuela, Syria, and Zimbabwe. He writes nothing critical of any American allies.

Could this mean that his change in format indicate that someone turned him? I doubt it. Compare his work at the Washington Post to the rest of the “world views” section there, his writing is merely a contribution to a giant echo chamber and not unique to him.

As I said earlier, it’s very rare for open evidence of collusion such as the similar quotations to present themselves. A better technique to discern propaganda and collusion is to analyze trends and themes.You should look for such things as what the work attempts to convey, does it try to get you to think or act in a certain way, and does it try to get you to disregard other things.

In the Adam Taylor case, the pattern changes significantly from the Huffington Post to the Washington Post. You can also apply this trend analysis to pretty much any author. You can even apply to the contributors here at  Return of Kings and see what you get. Do the trends indicate that the publisher may dictate what the writers write about? Do the trends indicate whether or not the writers have freedom to write about whatever they want? To help you readers out on this exercise I’ll inform you there were two articles I did at the direction of the publisher. They were my article for fat shaming week and my article for #backtothekitchen.  Feel free to comment on any other trends you might notice and if they do not line up with the “about” page.

[cawolters]

December...? DECEMBER!?

What about September?

November?

October?? What did I miss??

Yes, well, no you didn’t miss any vitals updates. I have reasons for why I haven’t been active on tumblr, and the most honest reason is that I didn’t feel like writing and posting on here since spring.

The writeblr community is so so great, one of the best in the web, but the platform is driving me nuts. Flagging, shadow bans, tag dysfunction and draft erasing/crashing, have just completely smashed my love for making fun and elaborate posts.

However, lots of updates has been made and i keep seeing wips I want to tag list and people i want to hang out with, so I’ll stick around for another decade or so! Hashtag always lurking.

The more polite reason for my absence, and equally truthful I might add, is that I was very busy the last few months —COMMISSIONS! LIFE! IRL NETWORKING!

And now I’ll tell you about it all, starting by answering the Q on everyone’s tongue:

1) Is Flash Fiction Friday Getting Revived in 2020?

In short, yup.

I need it, you need it, the world needs it. We need to WRITE folks. And the lovely prompt Friday will be back with week no 30 (!!) on:

Friday the 10th of January!

I have a capable team of creative and lovely writeblrs on the job as to how we an ensure consistent posting —and just and FYI, we might even end up with giving the FFF it’s own blog.

Run free, be with the people my beautiful prompt creature, inspire! And give me something to read!!

Stay tuned for updates and tell me is you want to be added to the FFF tag list.

Now next up is my scrip update!

2) Querying ‘The Serpent Kiss’

All is well in the land of querying.

or... well almost.

Alrighty, lemme explain below.

So, if you’ve been following me for awhile, you know my third child (whom is not currently teething or using my lipstick as a crayon) is my dark new adult fantasy trilogy —The Serpent Kiss <3

If you donno what I’m talking about, here’s a quick summery of the query process:

I finished the English first draft, two and a half years ago (I think?) and started looking into querying after my fifth draft was done.

I decided very early on that I would feel more comfortable working here in Denmark, where I already have a literary network, and actually understand the cultural unwritten rules when working with publishers!!

Since then I have been rewriting, tweaking, had beta-readers, editors, a sponsored translator (who translated the script from English to danish) BEFORE I started querying seriously in Denmark.

During the time where the book was being reviewed, I’ve kept in touch with houses who showed interest in the book from the get go (encouraging me to push onward), done a lot of social media work (especially on Instagram since the publishers all mentioned the importance of that platform) and attended books cons to physically mingle (it makes a difirence —really).

Ah, and now, finally, we’ve starting to get serious replies back from the Danish publishers.

Let’s look at what they’ve said so far.

(And mind you, this is Denmark. We’re a tiny country and we DON’T have adult fantasy books written by danish authors, so their critique is based on that. YA is what’s sellable and had been for years, buuut I also know that tendency will shift, so that’s what I’m really selling. A new trend basically. Always understand what pov the critique is coming from and don’t stop at the first rejection)

3/5: ‘no thank you, there’s no marked in Denmark for your book’

1/5: ‘we love it but rewrite it to YA and we have a deal’ — I said, no thank you

1/5: ‘we love it as is and we want to give you a deal, but we have to work out the legal kinks, and we will give you final answer by the end of January!’

So I’m awaiting the final judgement!!

But not really, it’s not the final judgement. If the deal falls through, and it might, never pop champagne before signing, I still have four more houses I could send the book to here in Denmark.

And, I could still go the international route and query over seas.

Yup! That’s the update on that!

Next up? The general writing!

3) A Year Of Author

“It’s really hard being a writer... Not on the days where you’re writing, but on the days where you’re not!”

— @CAlisaWolters, Instagram confessions

My year of full time professional writing, meaning mainly relying on my text/skill/art to heave in the cash, is six months down and going — OK!!

Here’s what I’ve learned/done so far:

I’m writing 4-7h on commissions, the second book of the trilogy, short-stories, poetry and another little YA project every day. Yes. Every day. And that’s very very cool and also exhausting mentally. My advice to others: HAVE OBLIGATORY DAYS OFF! (Oh yea and I also won nanowrimo but the project is a secret shh).

I’m somewhat alone most of the time but being a closeted introvert, I don’t mind, but I miss coworkers. That’s why Café dates and write-ins with writer pals IS IMPORTAINT.

Also! Speaking of socializing, I’ve been to five writers cons/events and I definitely recommend making it a priority for all professional authors. BRING BUSINESS CARDS!!

I have a set routine and I’m really happy with it! Early mornings is the best! And Monday is where I don’t write, but keep up with social media and answer mails and run errands! MAKE A ROUTINE!

And that’s the update on THAT!! Phew I’m getting winded, are you? Fear not we one have one last thing to cover. Promise.

4) Personal Life and Drag Kings ^_^

Where to start? Ah I know! I’ll start with the drag king storytelling event because that’s really what stands out!

I’m a mom, a wife, a bisexual, a general theatrical person and a genderfluid jellyfish who uses she/her pronounces, so when someone booked me for a storytelling event, I decided to go in drag. Naturally. Tsh duh.

I’ve really been experimenting with my gender this year, playing with apperence and comfortzones, and discovering that my real happiness lies somewhere between flooofy dresses and black buttondowns. And not just the clothes, but there attitude, the demeanor, the mental space of wearing cologne!! It might not sound dramatic, but to me it’s been A RIDE!

(I’ve been dying to go full drag for a long looooong time and I should’ve gone all out on the makeup —but next time!!! Also the event went so so well and I had the best time! I’m going to do it again!)

And NOW I’m done! Hah not really, but I won’t force you to spend all day reading my updates and this post is already so loooong 💕💕✨💕

The new year looms!! May it bring you love and confidence, and lots of new opportunities!!

Hug hug hug!!

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~Ciao

#author #cawolters #ayearofauthor #writeblr #my writing #nano 2019 #books #writer #update #query #agents #writing adventures #writing advice

[pro-bee]

Ziva David Appreciation Week Day 1: Underrated Friendship

OK, I had a totally different idea for this one initially (and if I have time tonight maybe I’ll make another post), but here it goes for now:

I don’t know how “underrated” this is, but I really liked the relationship between Ziva and Damon Werth.

(All screencaps in this post courtesy of NCIS Source.)

They meet under inauspicious circumstances, of course. He is their main suspect and has just beaten the crap out of the entire team, including Ziva. 

Yet instead of feeling fear or anger, Ziva is immediately drawn to Damon, because she recognizes something in him: Trauma.

Even before we find out that Damon is a super soldier, that he’s been experimented on and manipulated through the use of steroids to do someone else’s bidding, Ziva is sympathetic towards him, recognizing a look in his eyes she’s probably seen in countless friends and colleagues as a soldier -- and even in herself. Being so focused on your mission that you can’t leave it behind.

For instance, once Werth is in custody, there is that moment with Abby where she freaks out over the attack, losing her marbles over her friends being hurt, and in turn losing it on Ziva when Ziva expresses sympathy for Damon’s situation. That brings the infamous line where Abby accuses Ziva of being an “emotionless” assassin, compared to the rest of them who presumably have feelings, which gets right at the heart of Ziva’s own pain. Because we know she’s not emotionless, just like Damon isn’t, and she sees in him what she assumes the world sees of her. That on the outside she appears to be the perfect soldier, following orders without remorse, but we know that on the inside she feels so deeply that she essentially feels alone, like no one can understand her.

Which is why she is so desperate to clear Damon’s name. 

He’s a marine who gave his life to serve his country and is now being tossed aside to cover up someone else’s mistakes, just like Ziva’s been used by her father and Mossad to serve someone else’s agenda, been trained her whole life to be the sharp end of someone else’s spear, without any consideration for her own desires or choices.

Which is why it’s so important to her to not only plead his case and get to the bottom of what really happened, but also show him that someone out there does understand what he’s going through. Both the trauma of what happens in a war zone and when you get home -- and what it’s like to have everyone make assumptions about you and write you off. (As the conversation with Abby painfully demonstrates.)

So when they finally figure out what is happening to him, that someone is harming him, Ziva is determined that she can get through to him, and insists on meeting with him, even though it is a risk to her safety. 

Which proves to be true, when they have their “Pulp Fiction” moment and he Hulk Smashes his way through the hospital room:

What has always struck me about this scene is how preternaturally calm she is in this moment. This guy who probably weighs twice as much as her comes charging at her, and sure, she’s probably internally worried that she’s going to get hurt, but she isn’t scared of him. And not in that “Ziva is a badass who takes no shit” kind of way, but in an overwhelmingly compassionate, “this isn’t who he is” way. It is incredibly vulnerable and raw, but again displays this whole other side of her that we only get glimpses of. 

The show often glosses over Ziva’s own military service, but how many men (and women) do you think Ziva has known in her lifetime who have ended up exactly like Damon? Guys who were once your best buddies whose brains ended up like “Swiss cheese” to quote this show, due to their PTSD and whatever else they’ve suffered with as a result? Friends you wish you could have helped but lost along the way?

I feel like that is exactly what drives Ziva to fight for him so fiercely from the outset, and why she takes an unusually silent, open approach with him. 

She gave him a chance when no one else would.

(Because life gave her a second chance when by all accounts she never should have had it.)

Like, I even love that of all of them, it’s Ziva and Gibbs who get dressed up all fancy to take Damon to his medal ceremony, and how disappointed they both are when it gets cancelled.

They want to stand by him. (That’s a whole other post -- how Ziva and Gibbs “get” the military duty aspect more than any of the other combination of team members, because they’re the only two who have served and understand the commitment and personal sacrifice that entails firsthand.)

Bonus cap: Ziva in fancy clothes:

Anyway, this first episode is mostly Ziva-focused, obviously, because Damon’s brain was all scrambled, but I loved how it showed their instant connection, which is highlighted in his future appearances in season 7.

It’s a short one in “Outlaws and Inlaws,” but it packs a punch.

Once again, Damon finds himself accidentally on the wrong side, this time because it turns out his boss is a mercenary who has hired him to kidnap Layla and Amira (under the guise of “rescue,”) but I love that as soon as he sees Ziva there, he goes from “oh no I have to save my friend!” to “oh SHIT we gotta fix this” when Ziva tells him what is in fact happening. Like, screw all his coworkers, if Ziva tells him something’s wrong, he’s with her 110%. I love how deep that trust is.

And I like how he changes sides immediately at this too. We only see him briefly in this episode, but he’s totally ride-or-die for Team NCIS, thanks to Ziva. 

Then in his last episode, he and Ziva actually get to team up on a mission!

And they’re all cute and fun and flirty but in a totally friendly way!

(Not gonna lie, if Ziva couldn’t be with Tony, I would have been fine with her having a fling with Damon. He was hot and nice and kinda worshipped her, what’s not to like? But I digress.)

I just really appreciated how he was this dude who could easily have been a macho meathead, but instead he’s sensitive and struggling with his demons, just like Ziva is, and the reignite this kinship over their shared history of trauma:

“My friends who know about these things tell me it is a science. Trauma intensifies memory, which can make it feel ever present.” “There a reason for that?” "Perhaps to teach you, so you do not allow it to happen again.” "I keep getting stuck in my own history.” "Look, the last time we saw each other, you were in control. You helped us. Even after everything you have gone through, you can move forward. You can find the right path, Damon.”

(transcript courtesy Springfield)

In the context of the show, this is months after Somalia, and Ziva is still grappling with what happened to her there, along with everything that happened to her in her life before she came to NCIS, and she’s trying to reconcile who she wants to be with her past. 

But she’s doing the work. That’s the important part.

So when she reunites with Damon, sees him struggling with his own past and his own choices and possibly heading down the wrong path because he can’t find his footing in civilian life, she’s sympathetic to his plight. Because she was lucky enough to have NCIS to fall back on, something to help guide her and give her direction in her life when she left her old one. Damon doesn’t have that kind of support system, and like Ziva went from being in a highly specialized unit where everything was life-or-death, to living an aimless existence just trying to get by. 

I love that Ziva tries to mentor him in a way, or even act like a sponsor of sorts, showing him that trauma manifests in different forms, but that there are ways to get through it. They are not defined by their experiences or by others’ expectations of them, and all they can do is work hard to honour their choices and live up to their own expectations of themselves.

I love that they took what was probably this one-off character in season 5, and used his backstory to mirror Ziva’s, and help her work through some of those feelings herself. 

I’d like to think that Damon and Ziva kept in touch over the years, checked in with each other with a quick text every couple of months or years to see what they’re up to. He was an unexpectedly cool dude, and I’m glad we got to see Ziva show compassion to him when no one else would, because that is such a huge part of who she is. She fights for those who don’t have a voice.

I’d totally be cool with Damon coming back one day!

#zivadavidweek2019 #underrated friendships #i was all set to write something about ziva and ducky #but this unexpectedly came out instead #besides ducky probably isn't underrated #given that i wrote how many posts about their friendship after 17x02 #or when i rewatched season 7 a few months ago #anyway #damon is hot! #and sweet! #and really likes ziva! #and shares in her trauma! #YOU GUYS WHAT IF DAMON IS ONE OF HER CONTACTS???? #i don't actually think so #BUT THAT WOULD WORK OUT SO WELL

[alexsmitposts]

In America, Privilege is Far More Fatal than COVID Yesterday, I received a report from Syria. It told of blistering heat and no electricity, of fuel lines, of food shortages and economic suffering by the Syrian people. This is an excerpt: “I wonder if people in EU, US and UK had to deal with the repercussions of their government sanctions on Syria, would they fight harder to get sanctions banned as a hybrid war, sadistic strategy. It is 41 degrees in Damascus, the cloud cover makes it heavy and oppressive. Electricity where I am is on for an hour, sometimes two before it cuts for three or four hours, just as the air conditioning makes your environment bearable. For some living close to me, they were without electricity for 14 hours in this sweltering heat. I wet my clothes to keep me cool while I am working, it is the only thing that helps. Mobile phones do not have time to charge. Food goes rotten because the fridge is off much of the time. Syrians traditionally store enough food in their freezer to last them two or three months. They are having to throw much of it away. At the same time, food prices are sky high. Nobody can afford to eat luxury items like chicken anymore. Lemons have become a luxury item, the price of one kilo has trebled in a few months. Parents do not know if they can feed their kids every day, they are living hand to mouth. All the roadside kiosks are seeing their livelihood go down the drain, literally, as everything in their freezer section melts or goes bad. The queues for fuel, while not as bad as before, are still a stressful scrum with cars lining up to take their ration. These are only a few of the effects of sanctions. Sanctions are designed to hurt, to deprive, to depress and, ultimately, to kill slowly and more painfully than the swift ending of life by a mortar or a bullet. Sanctions strip people of their dignity and leave them beggars in their own home.” Syria is but one nation targeted by the Trump regime, there are others and the stories like this are in the millions, told by those who still live. When Syria was attacked, it was not just starvation, it was terrorism as well with up to 400,000 dead and 5 million refugees. Iraq suffered a far worse fate, 2,000,000 dead. Both nations are still partially occupied by the United States, the nation that engineered this suffering. Now it is all coming home to roost, as here in the United States, what was done to Syria and Iraq, to Yemen and Iran, and to the best of Trump’s ability Venezuela’s people as well, is being deployed against the most vulnerable of Americans. We had another police killing yesterday, one we know of, there may well be others, in fact it is likely. This was in Los Angeles, another African American, his crime was riding a bicycle “improperly.” To understand how privilege applies, Dylan Roof, white mass murderer who killed 9 a the Emanuel AME Church was arrested with considerable care and, before being processed, was taken to the local Burger King for lunch by police as Dylan told them that murdering so many people “made him feel hungry.” As American humorist Jim W. Dean so often says; “You just can’t make this stuff up.” This is not unusual, this is the norm, this is how things work but you will not know unless you ask people, people who trust you with the truth. Problem there, the divide in America is so profound that the victims of insanity and brutality that started long before the current epidemic under Trump don’t want to talk to the media, such as it is and have no faith in political process. You see, political process in America reeks of corruption and privilege as well. Privilege, as with exceptionalism, is a form of corruption whether it is state sponsored apartheid as in Israel or the other version of apartheid, the American one, with walls and children in cages and bodies in the streets. Let us be clear about something else, while the media tries to smear the most well know victims like Beonna Taylor, every person of color in the United States is victimized unless “hand selected” like Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas, a despicable human being reviled for his love of all things fascist. We might take a moment to discuss Breonna Taylor as well. This is a young woman of color living in Louisville, Kentucky, employed as a paramedic/first responder. Police broke into her home and killed her based on a false warrant. This is someone who had never committed a crime of any kind, police simply kicked down her door and murdered her for being black skinned, there is no other explanation. Yesterday, according to reports in the Washington Post, local prosecutor Tom Wine, a Trump backer, offered freedom to a number of drug suspects, if they would falsely incriminate Beonna Taylor, in order to aid Donald Trump in his election chances. Sources tell us Wine would then be nominated as US Attorney by Trump appointee William Barr. This level of corruption is seen every single day, even reported every single day but as the victims are of color in a land of “white privilege,” those who protest being falsely imprisoned or murdered by police are “violent hooligans.” Again, “you just can’t make this stuff up.” To understand the violence that is sweeping America today one can easily look at the violence that has swept the world, not just after 9/11 but long before. There are two words that are one in the same, one personal, one far greater, both are fatal. They are privilege and exceptionalism. The nature of “privilege” is insidious. For those who do not have COVID, for instance, who are not on a respirator or mourning the hundreds of thousands now dead, the disease is “fake.” This is privilege, denialism of the suffering of others because they are “others.” An unreported fact, nearly 4,000,000 older Americans live in nursing homes or residential facilities. None have been visited by family for nearly 6 months. Over 150,000 have died of COVID but reports that are creeping in speak of malnutrition, bed sores and widespread abuse and there is no one to help as families are not allowed to see their forgotten elders. The result of this, of course, is that older Americans have now become defacto “people of color” and reside in defacto “cages” like little brown babies ripped away from their mothers to amuse Trump’s political “base.” The insidious nature of privilege is that it can infect anyone, whatever their race or ethnicity. Privilege has become a hallmark of some religions, such as Christian Evangelism, infecting 35,000,000 Americans who attend church, pray continually but bask in a belief system that feeds exceptionalism and hatred. Privilege and exceptionalism are most often driven by fear. For some inherited money drives the unearned feeling of superiority, though Trump has, to a large extent, destroyed this concept through his bumbling ineptitude. Even the drooling Baron Rothschild and his carriage drawn through London by a team of zebras was not able to do that. If you are poor and white in America, “at least you aren’t black.” Thus, those who are otherwise the most marginal and vulnerable, not in all cases but some, perhaps many, take solace in having someone beneath them. “The humbleness of a warrior is not the humbleness of the beggar. The warrior lowers his head to no one, but at the same time, he does not permit anyone to lower his head to him. The beggar, on the other hand, falls to his knees at the drop of a hat and scrapes the floor to anyone he deems to be higher; but at the same time, he demands that someone lower than him scrape the floor for him.” – Carlos Castaneda Turning to Castaneda, whose “Way of the Warrior” defined excellence for so many during the 60’s and 70’s, in a way defines the failures in America’s culture today. “The basic difference between an ordinary man and a warrior is that a warrior takes everything as a challenge, while an ordinary man takes everything as a blessing or a curse.” – Carlos Castaneda What can safely be generalized about how things really are in America? Yesterday I spent time with one of my friends, a painting contractor, American born Hispanic who speaks no Spanish, highly successful, and we discussed local police in my own affluent community. His experiences with the same police who are to me beyond polite and helpful, not so helpful mind you that I would ever depend on them for protection, are quite the opposite of mine. I now know there is a problem. Will I do or say nothing and if I find our community subject to disorder because of our collective indifference to the rights of all, will I be surprised? Am I privileged and exceptionalist? Were it not for time I spent as a police officer decades ago, a miserable job, his words would seem unreasonable but anyone who has worked in law enforcement knows that the greatest stress isn’t from the public, too often referred to as “potential suspects,” but rather from corrupt and ignorant coworkers. It does not take long to see that they are the real criminals. As a former police officer, one is typically never stopped by police or if one is, one is immediately not just released but usually engaged in friendly banter. To be clear, some departments are better than others, but none are perfect and some, like Kenosha, Wisconsin, are brutally incompetent and dangerous. What we have also seen at mass killing like Columbine or during the fear driven killings that are sending hundreds of thousands into the streets, many police are quite simply cowards with guns, a very dangerous combination. Many, however, are not. Many are competent, polite, professional and often end up sacrificing their lives for others. The problem there is that if you are one of these, working with the others is a nightmare. In many cases, “good police” are ostracized and threatened for failing to be corrupt, which is my own experience. This makes the job impossible and the victims are many, certainly good police suffer as they invariably are commanded by the most corrupt and incompetent but the communities they supposedly serve suffer as well. This is the case with Kenosha. There, the police department, as a whole, is generally seen by other police as very poor quality, highly corrupt, racially biased and a very bad place to work. For the community, if you are white, you won’t be arrested unless you do something exceptionally bad and if you are a powerful “insider,” you can never be arrested at all as police are likely to aid and abet in any criminal acts. In the post George Floyd world, however, it is the community that has allowed its police to degenerate into a “blue gang” that is suffering now, subjected to violent protests which are, quite frankly extremely well deserved. Each community has a choice, to stand for justice for all, which should be equal enforcement of the law and, if need be, strong but fair and legal crackdowns on criminal elements even if such elements are people of color. Police are there to investigate and take potential offenders into custody, based on reasonable procedures, where fair courts administer laws. The truth is everything, but this happens. Police administer punishment, too often based on hatred driven by misguided privilege and institutionalized corruption and extremism. As cohorts in “blue gang” violence, prosecutors and many judges throw law, justice and the constitution aside to the extent that any attorney representing a criminal defendant feels overwhelmed. Time and time again, trials are a mockery and lying police and fake evidence rule every process, all openly accepted not just by insiders but the media and the privileged and exceptionalist community as well. Worse still, in many cases those of color who manage to rise into “the system” become the worst of the worst, almost accepted by their white brethren, which is why we included the Castaneda quotes. The disease, as we define it is privilege. The byproduct is dehumanization and indifference. This is a disease so powerful that very few can stand up to it and fewer still can admit it exists or if they choose to do so, go to great lengths to misdefine it. We began by discussing Syria but what is happening there, engineered by “privileged exceptionalists” driven by extremism, is terrorism in its purist form. American policing may well be described as institutionalized terrorism as well. Every child in America can at some time be caged, certainly if of color or if one’s parents are of questionable ancestry. Every American can be murdered by police with impunity. In fact, the massive ownership of assault weapons by Americans is driven by a fear of police. Rural and suburban communities, where gun ownership is greatest, are not subject to even the rumor of “racial violence” that the media stokes with every word. Every spectrum of politics from right or left shares one thing with those of color, distrust of government and fear of assault not by armed criminals but by armed criminal police. The sad thing is that too many take solace in the fact that they will be the last to go, not the first. From Martin Niemoller: “First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a socialist. Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out— because I was not a trade unionist. Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew. Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.” And so it goes…

[1wngdngl]

Pokemon Shield playthrough - Part 5

Back again with another post! This one covers Route 5 and the Water Gym.

Just as I start down the route, I encounter the Cameraman/Reporter duo, who are a classic trainer pair from past games. Given that all the Gym Challenge stuff is a big spectacle in the Galar region, it makes perfect sense that Gym Challengers would get interviewed along the way.

This horde of Minccino chased after me. It was adorable.

I discovered the Pokemon breeding-grounds - or at least, the artificial version of it. This is not the same as the old “Day-Care” that could also level up Pokemon. The Nursery is solely for eggs, while Levelling up can be done with PokeJobs and the experience candies.

The people here are really nice - they gave me a free rare Pokemon!

It’s like a baby dinosaur! I believe this is also the first Poison-Electric combo we’ve had.

Since I don’t want to have duplicate types, I remove Yamper from the team. I prefer dual-types, plus this purple dinosaur looks cooler. Okay, so he starts at Level 1, and he’s pretty frail, but I can be patient.

Leaving the Nursery behind, I encounter another traditional trainer class - the Chef. He sends out food to attack me.

I also find a wild Wobbuffet - and promptly realize just how horrible its catch rate is.

I wasted every last Poke Ball on this fiend. At least he gave decent experience when I knocked his lights out.

I consoled myself by catching the weird apple creature for myself. Here’s another unique type combo - Grass and Dragon (wait, does Mega Sceptile have that typing?) It only knows a defense-raising move and the incredibly-weak Astonish, and has horrible stats all around. I’m sure it will evolve into something great, if I can figure it out. (btw, is it weird that Galar has both apples /and/ “Leppa” berries?)

I decided that my psychic-bug-cocoon wasn’t doing enough for me, so it got booted off the team.

I also got a second try at Wobbuffet ;)

This guy has a nice camping spot for himself. He never leaves. Maybe he ran away from home?

Seeing a pink puffball and an apple fight over a toy is too cute for words.

My coworker also has this game, and was kind enough to trade over this incredibly-high level Wingull. Not that I really plan to use it, but it /does/ have Pokerus. You’d think by now the nurses and professors of the Pokemon world would have learned to harness the power of Pokerus and turn it into a mandatory booster shot.

Back on track, these silly Team Yell people are blocking the bridge forward.

I get to see what my Dark-type fox /could/ have evolved into, if it were still on my team :( It looks like a proper gentleman-thief.

I love Pokemon - you save someone from getting their precious possession stolen, and as thanks, they give you their precious possession.

Too bad the outfit for it is so garish.

The blue color is a little better though.

Now that I have a bike, I can go into the Wild Area and try the Rotom Rally mini-game. It’s basically a time trial as you travel between different regions of the Wild Area. It looks like you can’t get attacked by wild Pokemon while in this Rally mode, so it’s probably the quickest way to get around (minus the flying taxi, of course).

These guys can also upgrade your bike a bit, but it’s expensive. And they don’t have the ride-on-water option either.

You know, Serebii.net says that Bunnelby doesn’t evolve until Level 20. This is an illegal Diggersby here!

Okay. Back on the bridge. Riding is so much faster than walking, but I keep stopping anyway to grab hidden items and look at the scenery. You can see the Dragon city in the background.

Another fight with my rival on the bridge. His Scorbunny has evolved, but it’s still not too tough.

In this place, Eldegoss literally float by on the wind. 

Here’s the tunnel that ducks under the train tracks. What could be on the other side?

That can wait! First, I gotta get my Pokemon sent out on more jobs. I love this logo that’s a blatant KFC rip-off.

Oh, I also discovered that you can, in fact, change the wallpaper of PC boxes. All of the choices are pretty boring, though.

Also, my coworker invited me on a raid battle with a 5-star Ditto. I have a bad feeling about this...

Scorbunny’s final form is so majestic.

None of the previous raid battles I fought had “barriers”! Is that something that only shows up in multiplayer raids?

This is it. We’ve weakened it, and now I have the chance to obtain this rare, useful, iconic Pokemon for myself...

Yeah, I failed the capture. I didn’t know they could fail. At least I got some good loot.

FINALLY, I make it to the seaside town of Hulbury. I wonder which British coastal town this is based on? For being the main port of the region, it’s not really all that big.

We encounter Chairman Rose and some of his “admirers”.

We also learn a little more about the relationship between Rose and Bede. Apparently Bede really wants to impress the Chairman, so maybe he’s not so much “working for him” as trying to gain his favor.

You know, I really don’t think he pulls off that outfit. What is it even - a mix of baseball uniform and swim trunks?

Oleana thinks she can boss me around.

I don’t owe you anything, silly person! This is /my/ Pokemon journey. And I’ll take as long as I want. ^.^

Sigh...Why can’t I just throw my coal monster at these goons to get past? My character is way too nice.

Oh, here’s another look at that elephant Pokemon that the Chairman had. It looks like it’s wearing a little hat.

Also, please be more creative when naming locations.

Here’s the “bustling market” I was told about? Must be a slow day.

We’ve got the stock “bitter medicine” booth (I never use these)...

Ah! Here’s something useful. You can bet I will use this item to maximize my earnings from every battle. I haven't seen an option to re-battle trainers yet, and those cool outfits won’t buy themselves.

I trade away for a Cottonee. You know, why don’t people in real life just trade pets with each other whenever they feel like it?

Pokemon, Pokemon...People already say your recent games are too easy, and now you’re giving me a free held item that’s super-effective against the current Gym? (Yet another sign that you should ignore Oleana and /not/ go straight to the Gym upon arrival.)

If nothing else, Hulbury is scenic. I bet the dock is covered with Wingull droppings though.

These people obviously don’t get the point of Pokemon.

With the hills overlooking the sea, I’m reminded of Los Angeles - or was it San Francisco? It’s probably a lot colder in Hulbury though.

Here’s the train station at the top of the town. Of course it can’t take me anywhere new. What if my dying grandmother lived in the next town over - would you let me get on /then/?

I never got into Pokemon’s post-game battle facilities much. I wonder what Galar will have in that department.

I go fishing in the pier, and find a few new Pokemon. That seems to confirm that what you catch is based on where you are, so there’s no rod upgrades.

Good to see that Basculin still comes in two forms. I’m guessing Sword version has the red form?

Another sneaky way to help players - hide a Chinchou in the pier. Its electric attacks would also be useful against the Water Gym.

Aha! Here’s that Pokemon we saw in the trailer, when everyone wasn’t sure if it /was/ a Pokemon or just a generic fish. Well, it is real, though it doesn’t look that useful. It actually looks like a skinnier version of red-striped Basculin.

Nope, not keeping you. I only have six slots!

Some more postcard pictures.

Here’s that weird-looking Pokemon that was also glimpsed in the trailer. Will I be able to find this in the wild?

A hidden Electric-type TM. This is why you explore and do side stuff /before/ continuing the main story.

About ready to face the Gym now. First, now that I’ve entered a new town, I have some new options for my league card.

Here’s a brief look at where I am so far.

And a preview of Nessa. That pose cannot be comfortable.

My team. I’m hoping Avery’s Electric attacks will help, even though he is a bit under-leveled...

First, the Gym puzzle. It’s not really that hard. You could probably do it completely by accident.

In the old days, we had puzzles involving sliding around on icy floors, and using the Strength HM to push boulders into the correct holes. Now /that/ was a puzzle!

I wonder if Nessa ever gets cold, wearing that?

Her Dreadnaw wasn’t a super-high level, but it was incredibly powerful.

It knocked out my Dynamaxed Pokemon, even when the Dreadnaw itself was small!

I had no choice but to pull out my starter, and fight water with water.

Turns out Nessa’s calm demeanor breaks when she faces failure.

And now it’s dusk. I still don’t get how time of day works in this game - is it just an aesthetic thing related to the story?

A change in lighting can make for totally different pictures.

I have access to a new job company. They must be a sponsor for Nessa, since she wore a pin with their logo. Does this mean we can actually encounter Wailord in the game?

I also get the Chairman’s league card. I like the way he writes his signature.

You know the drill - can’t advance with my life until I follow the plotted line into this restaurant. At least it looks fancy inside. I like the Wishi-Washi designs on the floor.

Some story stuff happens. I am completely extraneous to this conversation.

I don’t really know how I feel about the Chairman. I still think he’s probably up to no good, but he’s not the cackling-evil sort that Lusamine was. Maybe it’s actually Oleana who’s evil, and Rose is being manipulated.

This restaurant: Nice location, horrible service. The whole time I sat here - empty glasses, and no food. If I’m gonna be forced to sit and listen to some exposition, I should at least get a meal out of it. 

Okay, that’s all for now! In the next entry, I will enter this tunnel into yet another mine.

#pokemon #pokemon shield #pokemon gen 8 #let's play #lps

[thistransient]

30

I’m pretty late in writing some kind of birthday reflection this year. Turning 30 feels like it ought to be some kind of milestone, but my friend/roommate in Portland seemed to think that the Golden Birthday (when your age and the date are the same) is a more exciting event, so I’m waiting for that (next year) to do anything truly special (like stay in a fancy hotel in Tokyo or something). However, failing to do anything at all also leaves me with a sense of lost opportunity (like when I turned 24 in Korea and just worked all day and came home miserable, although we did take a trip with friends on the weekend). My partner and I laid around in the Airbnb all day, and did go out for dinner and ate too much, but that was about it. Then I had one of those “Wow, I can’t believe I’ve lived like this for 30 years, and I refuse to do it any more” epiphanies. 

I’ve been various shades of out about being transgender for years. I have not had great experiences with my family or the mental health system in the United States. My main coping mechanism for dealing with these disappointments has been extensive travel and living abroad, where cultural differences, language barriers, and the ephemeral nature of acquaintances made it easier to either exist in a state of ambiguous gender presentation or deal with misgendering and negative reactions. For a long time I was convinced that physical transition would endanger my ability to travel because I wouldn’t “match” my passport photo and have problems getting through immigration, or applying for teaching jobs that required a visa sponsor and medical check, especially if I transitioned in a non-binary way without changing my sex marker (although I’m now open to changing it, and it’s not as if I haven’t already had issues with airport security and immigration). When I lived in Taiwan, I met not one but two foreign trans guys who had transitioned and were doing just fine living and traveling overseas (one was my coworker, the other became one of my best friends). It’s also become obvious to me that teaching kids is not the only way to live abroad. I’d run out of excuses. (But I’m still not interested in doing one of those big official “coming out” posts to everyone I’m FB friends with.) 

I did, however, look up whether or not hormones are legal over-the-counter in Ukraine, and then rolled up to a pharmacy, bought a 1 month dose and needles, gave myself an injection, and limped around for three days thinking my leg was infected and going to fall off because I had misunderstood the “very painful” warning as referring to the moment of injection and not the following 72 hours (which was normal, and it’s fine now). So I’ve officially met my 2019 goal of starting HRT. Before anyone gets worried, I did get the necessary blood work done at the trans clinic in Bangkok to establish my baseline levels, I’m not completely winging it here.

The implication of doing this without any health insurance, therapist’s letter of approval, or doctor supervision is that either I a) work towards having those things or b) keep going back to places where everything is over-the-counter (various countries in Southeast Asia) and getting my own tests done. I’m currently trying to figure out if I need to stop in Thailand en route to Australia in August, or if I should just fly directly, start working, and try to get things sorted out the “legit” way. Optimally, in the long term, I’d like to get residency in Taiwan, either as a student or employee, and work through the health care system there, but for now I need to figure out the next two years. 

The moral of this story is that, at the ripe old age of 30 (I’m kidding, I feel neither ripe nor old), I’m finally working on starting a new kind of life.  

[thepoliticalpatient]

Rundown on recent events in healthcare politics

I have three major updates for you today on healthcare.

Texas v. US

This court case, instigated by the attorneys general of many red states, is attempting to repeal the entire ACA, including protections for pre-existing conditions and the Medicaid expansion. A highly partisan district judge in Texas ruled in favor of the plaintiff, so the defendants have escalated the case to the 5th circuit, and whoever loses that round will probably escalate it to SCOTUS. I’m writing about this case today because the 5th circuit is going to begin considering the case very soon, in early July (I think I heard July 5 or 6).

Trump to unveil his “terrific” health plan

He doesn’t know when to stop.

“Since he announced his previous run four years ago, Mr. Trump has promised to replace President Barack Obama’s health care law with 'something terrific' that costs less and covers more without ever actually producing such a plan. Now he is vowing to issue the plan within a month or two, reviving a campaign promise with broad consequences for next year’s contest.”

(From https://www.nytimes.com/2019/06/16/us/politics/trump-health-care-democrats-2020.html?smid=nytcore-ios-share)

Trump, who had the hubris of going into a campaign on a complex issue that he clearly knew nothing about, one which is literally life-or-death for millions of people, with zero actual concrete thoughts but merely a promise for “something terrific” has, unsurprisingly, failed to come up with anything decent after two and a half years. His Congress came up with several plans that might’ve lowered costs for the healthy, but covered fewer people than the ACA does, and certainly didn’t adequately protect people with pre-existing conditions, falling far short of his thoughtless promise. This burned his party in the 2018 midterm, where healthcare was a winning issue for many Democratic candidates in Congress.

However, he somehow hasn’t learned to stop kicking the hornet’s nest and has announced that a new healthcare plan will be detailed within two months, though seemingly not with plans to hold a vote until after the 2020 election. This could end up burning his bid for reelection. You can bet that I and other much smarter analysts will be updating you on the specifics of that plan when it comes out.

Trump HHS changing rules around employer-sponsored insurance

If you want the details, read Charles Gaba’s excellent blog post here: http://acasignups.net/19/06/14/trump-now-wants-increase-aca-exchange-enrollment-update-psych

If you want it summarized by me, shorter and more simply: The employer mandate requires employers with at least 50 employees to provide health insurance to their employees. The new rule put out by the HHS will allow them to offer cash towards a health plan on the individual market to employees instead of directly providing group insurance as a benefit.

Insidiously, the Trump admin is also offering incentives to employers to funnel their employees into the shitty short-term plans that he has been hocking for the last few years (to recap: short-term plans are not required to meet ACA regulations, so they can discriminate against people with pre-existing conditions and cut all sorts of other corners). Luckily, the rule does require employers who do so to also offer ACA-compliant insurance as an option, so this isn’t going to totally fuck people with pre-existing conditions who get insurance through their work, yet. The people who will be harmed are those who unwittingly sign up for these scam plans without realizing that short-term insurance doesn’t actually provide a reasonable safety net.

Another thing that’s incredibly gross about this rule change is that employers can selectively choose which employees they’re going to keep offering group coverage to and which ones they want to shunt into the individual market. So, if your employer knows you have a chronic illness, they might choose to lower the premiums for the rest of their employees by removing you from their pool and sending you to buy your own insurance. This effectively allows corporations to treat the individual market as their own personal high-risk pools, which is basically a subsidy for corporations funded by tax-payers (since our taxes pay for the subsidies that help low-income customers on the individual market afford their premiums), and will probably cause the premiums in the individual market to rise even further.

On a personal note: because of this change, I will need to go back “into the closet” as a chronic illness patient at work. I was completely open about my Crohn’s at my last company with my coworkers, boss, HR, etc. This was helpful when I had an emergency surgery for a small bowel obstruction while working there, because I was able to disclose exactly what I was going through and what kind of support I would need. I started a new job about a month and a half ago, and I will have to try not to disclose anything here, although HR might figure it out anyway if I have another hospitalization. So, that’s some bullshit.

______

You’ll hear from me in July as soon as there’s an update on Texas v. US, and whenever Trump comes out with the details of his grand plan for saving healthcare 🙄

#texas v us #employer-sponsored insurance #aca #affordable care act #obamacare #trumpcare #short-term insurance #HHS #alex azar #trump #pre-existing conditions #high-risk pools #essay post #chronic illness #charles gaba #aca repeal

[femnet]

Being a teacher is difficult. I know that you hear this all the time, that we are underpaid, under appreciated, and probably over qualified for some of the work we do. Teachers, both male and female, often struggle to make ends meet and have to fight to be taken seriously from the public or their students or their student’s parents. However, there’s something unique about being a female teacher...even in a field that is largely dominated women, (according to www.aaeteachers.org, men only make up about 42% of high school teaching staff, 18.3% of elementary and middle school teaching staff, and just 2.3% of pre-k and Kindergarten teachers). 

When I started teaching, I actually thought that my gender, paired with my youth (I started teaching at 21 years of age, making me not that much older than my students) would work to my advantage. I hoped my age would allow me to relate more easily to my students and my students to me (”see? I’m not that much older than you, I understand what it’s like, I was here not even five years ago!”) and I figured students would be nicer to a female teacher (especially a young one) than they would be to a male teacher. 

As you can probably imagine, my first year of teaching was definitely a shock and a learning experience. First off, my age might have helped a LITTLE bit with my students, but it was definitely a hinderance when it came to my coworkers. My first year of teaching I shared rooms with the other more experienced art teachers, and though they were a HUGE help in some ways, I definitely felt like I struggled to be taken seriously at times. Often when we discussed what my plans were with my students they smiled and nodded absently with an expression akin to “Oh you sweet, summer child”. In the hallways, I often get stopped and mistaken for a student trying to skip. This alone doesn’t offend me, I know I appear young, and I’m pretty sure I've done this to other teachers as well. However, there has been a few times where this has definitely been a source for annoyance, such as the time when I was walking back to my room from a faculty meeting and a substitute stopped me asking where my ID was. I held it up, with the bright purple side marked FACULTY in large letters plainly visible. Instead of paying attention to that he started berating me for not being in class, asking where my room was, and threatening to take me to the office for skipping off campus (I was holding a Sonic cup in my hand that was left over from the lunch I took before the meeting). Finally, I managed to snap out “Uhm. I’m a Teacher?”. You’d think there would be some type of apology from the man who had wasted minutes of my time but instead he just blinked at me and said “Well. You look really young.” I walked past him and after a moment he called “You should take it as a compliment!”

Definitely not a compliment to be yelled at in the middle of the hallway when my faculty ID is plainly visible dude. 

When it comes to my gender, there's also a notable difference in treatment. Most of the times, when it comes to my co-workers, I do reap the benefits from being a female working in a largely female dominated field. However, there are exceptions. I sponsor a Student club at my campus that requires taking trips with my students. After three years, my students can usually tell how the trip is going to go by which bus driver we get. One driver in particular they know I absolutely hate. The first time we got him, he argued and mansplained every bit of direction I gave him, acting as if I didn’t have the experience or knowledge to know when we needed to leave and how long it would take to get there. Recently I had him again for a four day trip and it was difficult to keep my distaste off my face. My husband was a chaperone on the trip, as he is a volunteer in my school district. Immediately, the bus driver would talk over any bit of direction I gave to ask my husband what he needed to do. Even though I was the sponsor and my husband was just a chaperone. Anytime I would tell him when we needed to leave or where we were going he would look over to my husband and ask “Is that right?” 

In front of me. 

After about the third time this happened I just threw my hands up and told my husband it was all him. 

These are just examples of the treatment women, especially young women, face in this field. And it’s not just from my peers. As I’ve taught I’ve noticed a few things;

If a male teacher sticks to his classroom rules, he is “Strict” but if a female teacher holds the same kind of expectations she is a “bitch” 

If a male teacher has to get on to a student, other students are more likely to recognize that it’s because the student did something wrong. If a female teacher has to get on to a student, she is asked “Are you having a bad day?/In a bad mood?/On your period?” (No joke, I’ve legitimately had that last one)

I have yet to hear a student ever say that a “grumpy” male teacher “just needs to get laid”. In fact, students are more likely to speak of their teachers in a sexual manner if the teacher is female. 

These observations are not just mine. Nypost.com posted an article entitled “Students challenge female teachers more than their male teachers” and The Telegraph discussed a chart which exposed how students labelled their female teachers “bossy” while their male teachers are typically labelled as “awesome”.

You might be asking what the point of all of this is, other than yet another teacher complaining about their job. I want to say that I LOVE my job. Over the past three years, I have learned and learned again. I have a good relationship with most of my students and coworkers and I think the struggles are worth it. What I want to say with my stories and observations, carries over beyond the field of education. It carries over the sports, to STEM, to all the fields that are just starting to show female inclusion. Seeing more and more women in these fields, and more and more female students aiming for these fields is GREAT. But what we need to remember, what being in a female dominated field has taught me, is that just because a field includes or is even dominated by females, doesn’t mean there suddenly isn’t any sexist treatment. Getting women into these fields is an amazing step towards true equality, but there are more. 

We still need to get our society and our children to respect women and to see them as equals, no matter their profession, race, or orientation, and I don’t know if that’s ever a step that we can check off as “done”. It might be a battle we fight forever, with every new generation, and with every new field, but it’s a battle worth fighting. 

#by Jessi #feminism #education #professional #STEM #fem #May 2018 #real life