#wifi broke and family over now

[fashion-runways]

okay it's been over a year and i keep saying i'm going to make a new post and it's too exhausting to even think about the whole thing so i keep pushing it-- here's the link to the old post if you want a more detailed thing i wrote back then.

anyway, a year ago, out of the blue, our apartment got raided by the police, they broke our front door, they broke a bunch of shit inside, they took a bunch of our stuff, they barely gave us answers or an explanation, they took my dad and made it seem like he would have to sign some stuff and answer some questions and come back, but it's been over a year (since june 2022) and he hasn't come back, and his case is still up in the air. they're barely working on it. they didn't pay for all the shit they broke, they haven't returned all the shit they took, we had to spend a lot of money on that, i had to take a loan to buy a new computer so i could keep working and studying, on top of spending even more money on basic needs for my dad in jail and lawyers, plus blood pressure and anxiety medications, plus he's old and he was scheduled an eye surgery that he obviously couldn't go to so he's like, practically blind in one eye now, also new clothes for him to wear there (there's a bunch of rules for that), honestly i already lost track of how many things we had to pay for. it's been incredibly stressful and it still is even now that we've gotten used to it. he's been detained for a year for something that they still don't even know if he did and the case is barely moving, i don't know if they're like... i don't know, waiting for the man to die in there since he's already old so they don't have to admit they don't have enough proof for all the mess they made? i don't know. like i said back then, please don't ask me for details on the case or show up in my inbox trying to play tiktok true crime and guess what he did/didn't do. it happened a few times and it's extremely triggering, please don't. please.

this blog is basically my job. it's my primary source of income, i don't have anything else, no matter how many interviews i go to, in the country/city i live and in the state our economy is, if you don't have contacts it's impossible to get a job. i'm always signing up to free programs to learn new things while i don't have a job, try to make my cv bigger, but it doesn't matter. if you don't have someone saying “please hire my friend/family member” or you don't have 500 years of experience, they won't. so like i said, donations people make to this blog are how me and my mom (and my pets) stay afloat. it's what we use to pay for food, general groceries, transportation, electricity, wifi, water, gas, health insurance, stuff for my dad in jail, meds for my mom who has diabetes, food and meds for my pets. i don't go out much, i haven't gotten a haircut in a year, i barely spend money in anything that makes me happy except once in a blue moon when i stop feeling guilty lmao i had a redbubble account also that helped a little too, but last week it got suspended without an explanation as i was uploading new designs, so i don't even have that now. i made a new account on teepublic, but all my designs in high quality are locked behind redbubble and i can't even log into because of the suspension. it's... complicated, and it's a lot, but it is what it is.

i'm always keeping an eye out on new collections, new designers, new cool things. like i said, i love fashion, i studied fashion, and i know a lot of you use this blog as inspiration whether it's for yourselves or for your art, so i don't want to post all similar stuff all the time, i want to post all kinds of styles and brands as much as i can. which is why when i say if you like this blog, if you want to support me, sending even the smallest amount of money helps me keep going. living in latin america, the exchange rate is kind of insane, so truly any amount of money donated helps. unfortunately, i never stop needing money to survive and help keep my family afloat, but in the past year more than ever.

as usual, my kofi link is this one: https://ko-fi.com/fashionrunways and my (new) teepublic link is this one: https://www.teepublic.com/user/dinah-lance. if my redbubble account gets reinstated, i'll add that link eventually too. and as always, thanks for loving this blog and for loving fashion like i love fashion, even when i post crazy looking stuff, and thanks for helping. you have no idea how much your support helps, but it really does, i don't even know if i'd be alive right now if it wasn't for this blog.

#text posts #long post.

[survivingcapitalism]

As disabled people around the world and as disabled diasporic Asian queers, we have been grieving heavily and finding as many ways we can to be in solidarity with Palestinians during the last 80 days of the genocide against Palestinian people. 

We want to get money and resources directly to Palestinians in Gaza, however, as many people know, the blockade has made it almost impossible to get cash and resources into Gaza. One way that is possible is getting people eSims. 

The Israeli Occupation Forces have attacked wifi and cellular service over and over again, which stops people from being able to get information, be in touch with their families to let them know they’re alive, and for people to get the word out about bombings and conditions in Gaza. The several times that Israel/the IOF cut off all wireless and cellular service have been chilling and also provided sites where harsh damage, murder and atrocities could occur without media coverage, period, and by the heroic young citizen journalists whose social media accounts are some of the only ways that accurate, up-to-date news has been getting out of Gaza. 

On October 29th, 2023, Egyptian writer and activist Mirna El Helbawi founded #ConnectingGaza to get eSims directly to people in Gaza, with updated information about which carrier is most needed. A few weeks later,  poet and organizer Jane Shi decided to sell her remaining “Immunocompromised people are worth protecting” stickers to raise funds for eSims as well as for Palestinian Youth Movement Toronto’s Community Defense Fund after her friend Divya Kaur (@soft.kaur) suggested fundraising for eSims with art and after her friend Vivian Ly and co-organizer at Masks4EastVan linked Mirna’s instructions in a group chat. Doing so was quick and easy, as her stickers were already listed on her Big Cartel page from when they were previously sold to fundraise for fires and floods impacting predominantly Indigenous families in so-called British Columbia. 

Like many others across her social media feed, Jane was floored when she saw that one of the eSims she purchased, which lasts 20 days and has unlimited data, was activated, meaning that it is currently being used to connect Palestinians in Gaza to the Internet. She excitedly sent the screenshot of the activated eSim to a bunch of her friends and community members, hoping to offer some respite against the high stress of protests, social media posts, and ongoing organizing. 

Amidst the onslaught of violence, criminalization of protest, egregious censorship, and grief, including for the assassination of English professor and poet Refaat Alareer, the small blue “Active” offered a glimmer of hope, however small, however inadequate. 

Poet Rasha Abdulhadi, a disabled, queer Palestinian Southerner, invites us to do everything in our power to refuse the genocide against Palestinian people and in so doing, encourages us to make connections between our struggles and theirs.  In their bio in The Offing and elsewhere, they share, “Wherever you are, whatever sand you can throw on the gears of genocide, do it now. If it’s a handful, throw it. If it’s a fingernail full, scrape it out and throw. Get in the way however you can. The elimination of the Palestinian people is not inevitable. We can refuse with our every breath and action. We must.” As disabled people we owe our disabled kin in Gaza to get in the way. 

In the spirit of many disability justice crowdfunds, like Stacey Park Milbern’s collective fundraiser to buy the Disability Justice Culture Club in 2019, we are organizing this disabled (and ally) crowdfund to buy a shit ton of eSims.  

Anything you can contribute helps. There is power in numbers. We know that as disabled/ sick/ ND/Deaf people we are often poor or broke, but we can pool our money to collectively make a big difference. We also know that there is a rich tradition of poor and working class people donating more than middle class and rich people in general, and of poor and working class disabled people sharing what we have as a form of collective access and solidarity. We also call on people with access to money and/or wealth to contribute as you can.

We are also looking for disabled orgs and collectives to connect with and move money and resources to as asked—we have listed some below. We also recognize that everyone in Gaza is now disabled due to the massive number of deaths, new disabilities, life-threatening illnesses and destruction of medical facilities going on. Such destruction also debilitates the land, water, and air, which will impact Palestinians and all surrounding life for generations to come. We owe our kin in Palestine to throw sand on the gears of genocide with our every breath. 

[bengiyo]

Last Twilight Ep 10 Stray Thoughts

Last week, Day talked to his dad and got some closure about how his dad left his mom and them. Then, Mhok and Day decided to take a side trip to climb the mountain featured on the Last Twilight book. They ended up using the same homestay as the author, and learned that he went on an international journey so that his daughter, who was losing her visions, could see lots of beautiful things. They managed to reach the top of the mountain and had an emotional moment as Day’s remaining eyesight failed.

This is how you start an episode! Immediately into the mom conflict.

Ouch, they made Mhok stay outside for this appointment.

Currently feeling a little sorry for the mom because I understand her being jealous that she wasn’t present for Day’s final moments of vision, feels complex responsibility about making sure they continue to be wealthy enough to care for Day, and also probably is just scared because she feels so powerless. I get the instinct to exert control in some way, even if it’s over Mhok for overstepping in his role.

I’m also glad Mhok made the choice to quit on his own. He’s too close to Day now to serve as his caregiver in a professional capacity.

“Keep it secret. Keep it safe.”

Not keen on the mom being okay with Day regressing.

“Mom, I love him,” is not a winning play here, Day.

Oh no mom hired that patronizing guy from earlier.

At least Mhok got the car back.

I kinda wish Mhok had been holding a boom box in this phone call scene.

She said, “I’m not homophobic. Mhok is just too broke to be with you.” If we’re going down this route, I hope this ties back into the earlier stuff about Day choosing to quit school.

Mm, I do not approve of her taking Day’s phone.

I am glad Porjai called Mhok out on prioritizing Day over himself. I was wondering if we’d do anything else with Mhok’s ex-con status. Not sure how I feel about him picking up culinary skills since he started taking care of Day and changing careers. I was hoping his technician skills would stick around.

She changed the wifi password too? WTF

Mark Pakin is still so, so good. He continues to absolutely crush huge emotional moments that involve a face journey. I like this reconciliation with the brothers. There’s really nothing else for Night to say.

Hold on, what have Porjai and Night been up to? Fill me in!

Okay! That’s his child?? I’m here for this. Good job, Mark and Namtam. So much with so little.

This painting class looks like a lot of fun.

I like the Day has adapted to his system and can find the shirts he wants now.

Oh, Mark, you are selling Night feeling like he doesn’t get noticed by the mom so well.

I’m sure Julia Child would be happy to see these people crying into a beef stew.

This family scene is very charming, but I ain’t forget that she took that man’s phone and changed the Wi-Fi password.

Curious about ending on the eye donation.

I don’t like how we just seemed to forgive the mom, because I did not like the way she handled literally anything this episode. We had Porjai point out that Mhok had spent too much time thinking about Day, and only mentioned his job struggles as a quick aside. Yeah, we saw his issues earlier, but I feel like we should have spent more time with Mhok this episode seeing him step back into the reality of his world. In a less egregious way, this is a lot like the Dangerous Romance issue, where we switched perspectives after one or two episodes and never really went back.

#Ben watches #last twilight #last twilight the series #thai bl #bl series

[transsexualprions]

Disabled and stuck in an abusive hell in the backwoods of wv, with no water or heat. About to be thrown out into freezing temperatures.

I’ve put this off, but I can’t anymore. I need your help.

I’m currently stuck in very rural wv on top of a mountain, with snow and ice storms now constant. I’m in a small trailer with my dog and cat on my stepdad’s property, and he is an evil, abusive, homophobic/transphobic drunk. After systematically abusing and dehumanizing me for months, even when I had a broken ankle, he’s now about to lock me out and leave me for dead in the middle of winter when I can barely walk.

For context: I never thought I’d end up back here with the man who made my childhood a living hell of fear and abuse, but unfortunately I lost my apartment and had nowhere else to go. I’m disabled and I was illegally evicted, but that’s another story…

Over the past few months he’s turned off the water, turned the electricity off when I displease him, stopped allowing my mom to bring me food or even see me, made countless threats, and has been drunkenly threatening me and calling me slurs (I am a trans/gay man), as well as making me perform demeaning work for him. It only gets worse as he finds new ways of torturing me, and my mother is the only thing that’s stopped him from kicking me out. But that’s no longer stopping him as he abuses her cruelly every day and she’s being worn down.

I have no wifi. I have no phone of my own. No contact with anyone who can help me (my boyfriend lives several states away and can only do so much). My family has abandoned me. I haven’t bathed in months and food is dwindling. My mom sneaks me her phone (what I’m using currently) so I don’t go insane, but it usually has one—maybe two bars and I can’t usually make calls with it. We’re also 40 miles from the nearest town which is just a Walmart and a shitty strip mall of nothing. On top of that I broke my ankle a little while ago and I still can barely walk. My doctor urged me to get physical therapy but I’m not allowed to go, as my stepdad doesn’t believe I even broke it in the first place.

The last straw was last night. He dragged me outside while I was in nothing but a t shirt and shorts, and forced me to shovel snow and ice around the property well into the night. He screamed at me the entire time in a drunken rage, laughing and calling me a fatass dyke, saying he hoped I’d break a leg too or my neck so he could leave me at the hospital, while forcing me to trudge through icy snow on my damaged ankle. And he will surely do it again as he takes great pleasure in my suffering.

At this point, my only hope is that my older brother will pick me up and take me back to Michigan, but his family is wishy washy as hell and have been making excuses right and left as to why they can’t actually come get me. Right now it’s because they “just don’t see how they can afford it during the holidays”. Either that or I need to somehow move to Minnesota with my bf. This is my only hope, and I am in desperate, desperate need of money to make it happen.

I’m freezing. I’m in pain, and suffering. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me or my pets and it’s terrifying. I just have to get out of here or I’m not going to make it. Please, if you have any money or kind words to spare, or even if you can only reblog this, it would mean literally everything to me.

Please don’t tag this as d*n*tion post. And, if you need further information, feel free to contact me.

P.4ypal can be found here.

#I just wanted to post this before the blackouts happen and I don’t even have this phone anymore #wv situation

[strangerthingsstuff4]

She's like the wind- Part Seven

FINALLY!!!!

I have been trying to post this for weeks but my laptop has been having a breakdown with my wifi :(

But it is finally here and i will be posting as much of this as possible! i already have so many good ideas for the Season 4 timeline!!!

enjoy :)

Warning- Swearing, Sexual references, Smoking, underage drinking, mentions of abuse

Steve shuffled up the driveway towards his front door. His head was pounding and the cuts on his face were stinging. He had had enough of demo dogs, enough of the upside down and he had had more than enough children. He just wanted a hot shower and his bed. He was not pleased when he was welcomed with music blaring out of the kitchen. Knowing his parents were out of town there was only one person it could be.

He wandered towards the kitchen, shrugging of his dirty jacket and throwing it over the banister. Steve swung around the doorway into the kitchen and stopped dead. His eyes opened as wide as they could when he saw his cousin, wearing a red button down top with no pants, sat on the counter sucking on the tongue of none other than a topless Billy Hargrove.

‘’You have got to be kidding me’ he grumbled at the sight.

His cousin, his own family was eating the face of the asshole that had attacked him and the kids. They broke apart their attack on each other and turned to look at him.

‘Oh my god Steve! What the happened to you?!’ Dylan gasped at the sight of his bruised face.

‘Why don’t you ask your little boy toy’ he huffed.

‘You did this?!’ Dylan questioned Billy as he moved out from between her legs.

‘I told you last night! He was in that freaks house with Max!’ Billy defended as he looked over his handy work.

Dylan jumped off the counter and moved over to Steve to get a better look at him. Her mood had changed instantly, a few minutes ago she had been flying. All wrapped up in Billy, his touch, his smell, his taste. Now she could feel her blood boiling.

‘You said it was a little scuffle!’ she yelled back at Billy.

‘It was!’

‘You smashed a plate over my head’ Steve weighed in.

Dylan whipped around to look at him. She was ready to smash something over his head. Jaw clenched and hands in fists, Dylan stormed out of the kitchen and up to her bedroom. She changed out of Billy’s shirt and into the clothes she had on last night. Dylan gathered up his things and stomped her way back down the stairs.

‘Where’s my fucking car Harrington?!’ Billy yelled

‘I told you man it’s where you left it at Jonathan’s house’ Steve shouted back.

‘Get your shit and get out’ Dylan spat at Billy as she threw his shirt and shoes at him

‘Are you fucking serious?!’

‘Do I look like I’m joking?! Get out!’

Billy chuckled a little as he bit his tongue, his eyes boring into hers. Billy shrugged his top on, Dylan had kindly washed and dried it earlier that morning while he repaid the gesture and ate her out on the countertop.

‘Stay away from Max’ Billy growled at Steve as he strutted past them and out of the house.

Dylan was livid, she knew that Billy and Steve didn’t get along but she had thought that they both would have more respect for her to not beat the shit out of each other. She had nagged and nagged Steve to find out why he had been in a strangers house with a bunch of kids in the late hours of the night, but she had gotten nothing out of him other than that he was ‘babysitting’. She had avoided Billy like the plague, knowing how weak she was with him. She was mad at him and intended to stay that way but whenever she thought of him her heart fluttered and her mind wandered to the night they had spent together.

He had been so soft with her throughout the night, laughing like a child at her stupid attempts of making a joke, being fairly handsy with her in a nonsexual way. They had fallen asleep spooning, his soft little snores and the way he yawned and rubbed his face when he woke up had shown her how normal he was. He was just a normal teenager, a boy who laughed and smiled and liked marshmallows.

With Christmas break starting tomorrow, Dylan was hoping to get through her last day in peace. Her hopes were shot down as soon as she stepped out of her car into the cold winter air of Hawkins. Billy was leaning against the hood of his car, parked as close to the school as possible so she would have to walk past him. Dylan tried her hardest to ignore him, even went out of her way to put her headphone on, motley crue filling her ears. But even the on full volume ‘Live Wire’ could not drown out his gruff voice.

‘Dylan’ He said loudly, to which she ignored and attempted to continue walking.

‘Hey, come on’ He continued as he stood and grabbed her by her upper arm.

Dylan sighed heavily and stopped, shrugging his hand off her she turned and slid her headphones down around her neck.

‘What?’ She asked dryly, eyes scanning over the light bruise that was glowing around his right eye.

‘Hey don’t be like that’ Billy smirked softly at her, his big hand finders hers again to softly run his fingers over hers.

‘Be like what?! You could’ve broken his nose!’ she growled at his, attempting to snatch her hand back but failing under his tight grip on her.

‘No I couldn’t, Harrington’s tough he can handle a punch besides he swung first’ he informed her, his face never losing his cheeky grin.

Dylan scanned over his face looking for any sign of deceit but all she could see was his beautiful blue eyes and the glint off his perfect white smile. She hated how perfect he was, with his stupid soft hair and smooth skin. She knew she was going to hate herself for forgiving him, but he just melted her.

Billy could she her visibly relax, her shoulders slouched, and her jaw unclenched. He knew he had won her over once again, his ego was beaming. With his grin growing across his face, Billy pulled her closer to him, until her chest was flush against his. His other hand found top of her ass and hers found his chest. Dylan couldn’t help but let a smile appear on her face, the heat radiating off him sent a delicious shiver through her body, it was perfect compared to the sharp bite of Hawkins in December.

‘Look, it’s the snowball tonight so-‘

‘Are you about to ask me to a school dance William?’ she teased him, letting go of the weighted anger in her chest, locking her hands behind his neck.

‘Like shit I am… let me take you for something to eat tonight, maybe a milkshake and a movie?’ Billy asked, his facial features softening to show how sincere he was.

‘Like a date?’ Dylan questioned a little taken back.

She had not expected that, he was always so flirty and forward about his advances but not once had she thought that he would want to date her. She had just assumed that they would sleep together and mess about, she hadn’t taken him for one to want to be tied down to one girl.

‘Yeah… I guess’ he smirked again, staring straight into her eyes.

Max, Lucas and Dustin waited next to the bike racks for Will and Mike, all three of them stood in silence. The last few days had been a lot and it was finally taking a toll on them. They were tired and sore, Max was still trying to process it all, the upside down, the demo dogs, the fact that they knew a girl with actual super powers.

‘Oh my god’ Dustin broke the silence as he looked over the car park of Hawkins High.

‘What? What?’ Lucas jumped up, body prepared to go into shock immediately, a consequence of the last few days.

Nothing they had seen could have prepared them for the sight in front of them. Max’s face screwed up in disgust as she watched her brother groping the ass of Steve’s cousin while he made out with her. She would’ve preferred the demo dogs much better over seeing the two of them suck face.

‘Do you think Steve knows?’ Lucas questioned

‘We should tell him either way’ Dustin huffed turning his back on the scene, not bearing to watch anymore.

 Dylan’s chest bulged over her tight top as she bounced down the stairs quickly. Billy was picking her up in 10 minutes and despite his bad boy laid back attitude he was surprisingly punctual. She swung round into the living room and grabbed her denim jacket off the back of the couch.

‘Where are you going?’ She questioned Steve as he emerged down the stairs, car keys in hand.

‘Oh I told Henderson I’d give him a lift to this ball thing’

‘So you’re chaperoning now too?’ she teased him

‘Piss off, how about you?’

Steve received his answer from the familiar roar of an engine blaring outside, the Scorpions could be heard faintly when the engine came to a stop. Steve looked at Dylan incredulously, she flashed her teeth at him in an awkward grin.

‘Are you seriously still seeing that dick?!’

‘He’s apologized and he’s not a dick he’s just… misunderstood’ She smiled softly as she tilted her head and pictured him asleep in her bed a few nights before, breathing softly.

‘He hasn’t apologized to me!’ Steve grumbled at her while she shrugged on her jacket.

‘Oh well Billy said he’s sorry’ she chuckled at Steve’s eye roll before turning and opening the front door.

Billy hadn’t bothered getting out of his car, still sat in the drivers seat with the engine still running. Steve had moved to follow Dylan out the door, heading to his own car while she skipped down the driveway to the camero. Billy held a second of eye contact with Steve before Dylan closed the door and they zoomed off down the street.

‘His face’s cleared up well’ Billy commented as he turned of out the close and headed toward downtown Hawkins.

‘No thanks to you’ Dylan retorted sarcastically, receiving a huff as a reply.

‘This better be the best damn milkshake on the planet Hargrove’ she teased him to lighten the mood.

Billy drove them through the town to the drive in theatre, getting themselves a decent parking space, which wasn’t hard considering everyone had chosen the snowball over the movies. He got out and disappeared to get the food and drinks he had promised her. He returned just as the movie was starting, climbing in and handing her the popcorn and the packet of nerds he had bought.

‘No milkshake?’ she questioned when he handed her a big cup of coke

‘No they don’t have the machine anymore’

‘What? What movie place doesn’t have a milkshake machine?!’ she asked cynically.

‘They’re closing down apparently, some big mall getting built so they’re moving’

The movie was slow and not very funny, at least Billy hadn’t thought so. Just twenty minutes in he had place his hand on her leg, twenty-five minutes in he had pulled her in for a heated kiss and by thirty minutes in they were revving out of the field and driving to their spot next to Benny’s old diner. There was kissing, there was undressing and there was a lot of noise.

Window’s had fogged up from the heat inside the vehicle, the air was sweaty as the couple lay on the back seats. Billy still lay on Dylan’s bare chest, neither of them said a thing, they just lay there, Dylan had started playing with Billy’s hair without even realizing that she was doing it. It was soft and slightly damp now but it still smelt good, intoxication just like him.

‘We should probably get back’ she whispered softly, not really wanting to leave the moment.

It took a few moments before Billy ingested what she had said, he lifted his head off her breasts just enough to look at her, his curls tickling her skin causing goosebumps to appear and her nipples to harden again.

‘Yeah I gotta get Max from this fucking dance thing’ He grumbled as he lifted himself off of her, their skin peeling away from each other.

‘You want me to come with?’ she questioned while slipping her top back on and beginning to struggle with her jeans.

‘Nah, don’t need that little turd getting involved in this’ he huffed while putting himself back into his jeans.

Dylan nodded to herself, slightly disappointed and clambered over the seats, returning to the passenger seat. Billy climbed into the drivers seat and started the car, Dylan had pulled down the visor to straighten her hair and that’s when she saw it. The big purple bruise at the base of neck just above her collar bone. The gasp that she released caught Billy’s attention, meeting her eyes while she glared at him.

‘You gave me a fucking hickey?!’ She yelled as he gave her that cocky grin of his.

‘Billy! I look like a fucking whore!’ she whined while inspecting it further.

‘No you don’t beside it’s hot’ he grinned, wiggling his thick eyebrows at her.

‘How is this hot?! It’s disgusting, ugg I could kill you’

Dylan swung her hand to smack him across the arm but he caught her wrist before she could make contact. He pulled her closer to him and he leant in, their faces centimeters apart.

‘It means everyone knows you’re mine’ He growled in his deep husky voice before smashing his mouth on hers again.

The kiss was short but messy, his tongue licking over hers until he pulled away from her. Dylan was left slightly breathless, eyes wide as she watched him begin to drive out of the clearing and back onto the road. She settled into her seat but didn’t say anything until he pulled up outside her house, still struggling to get her breathing normal. She was in awe of this man sat next to her, she had never expected to feel such a passionate connection with anyone let alone Billy fucking Hargrove but here she was, wanting to kiss him and only him like that all the time. He had said that she was his and he was damn right, he had her completely wrapped around his finger. Dylan never ever let herself get this invested in a guy, it only ever led to hurt. Maybe Billy was going to hurt her but if he wanted to she had already decided she would happily let him stamp in every little fragment of her heart.

Billy, once again, didn’t turn off the engine when they came to a halt outside her house. She climbed out of the car and shut the door.

‘Smoke tomorrow?’ he shouted after her

‘Sure’ she grinned at him before he rumbled out of sight.

Gods she was in trouble.

#billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #dacre montgomery #robin buckley #billy hargrove fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things 4 spoilers #joe keery #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove imagines #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you

[mihai-florescu]

Another one of them is you narrating your Leo coded friend(?) adventures backpacking through Europe because that made me anxious and it was a third degree knowledge type of thing and they had to get to a place before a certain time because it was their birthday??? I think??? And they also lost the bus or a train one time and that's why they had to resort to hitching a ride with some randoes??? That's like all over the place because you kept saying different things as they traveled so I only remember bits and pieces but it left... An impression....

There's also the fact that I have a clear distinct memory of you regularly talking and/or posting about hypmic or at least seeing you in the asks of a hypmic blog with a jakurai icon (I think it was jakurai but actually it could have been Yuki as well) but still with the same url as now and at this point I no longer know if it's a made up memory or not...

It mustve been a yuki pfp, i dont think i ever had a jakurai one. But i also dont remember talking to many ppl about hypmic...hmm. im curious when that couldve been.

As for my friend...ok here's the story as i remember it. She was supposed to fly from spain to belgium and attend a week of some socialist youth meeting camp in a forest with ppl she had met in highschool during an exchange semester. She had been partying the days leading up to the flight (i remember the day before the flight she showed me the cut she got from climbing some? Barbed wire? To tresspass to a rave? And in that same night she also fell asleep in a field?) Anyway she missed the flight, bought another one, but then didnt have enough money to buy one back. She didnt want to borrow money or, like, tell family that she messed up, so she lied to them that she has enough money for a bus instead, when in reality she started hitchiking (it was also tricky cuz she needed to still buy food and stuff, and she really was pretty much broke).

I was at pride when she called me to say she set off on this journey and then for the next 2-3 days id get updates whenever she caught wifi. I dont remember every single connection but highlights include: the french family who asked if she could stay with them as a nanny. The brazilian guy who invited her to a party in luxembourg (and she went). The police picked her up at some point and brought her to a gas station or truck stop. Some other cars inbetween where nothing crazy happened. And finally in the last day, a truck that was going from france to barcelona, which was where she was supposed to return to. Because, yes, she had a birthday party to attend. Her own (combined with another roommate's, but still. I did not know whether she'd make it to 21 at the rate in which things were going). I love her so much and im glad it all worked out... she's the one with the cat named messi, if you're keeping track of my friends' cats. Messi's an icon, im sure you know him

#ask #vi❄️

[foreveralwaysanauthor]

I have returned and, as I have finally come back to my house after a ten-day rollercoaster, here is a bit of an update on how things are going for me.

After a week and a half of not looking at my computer and spending every morning with my hand shoved inside of a triceratops puppet for the enjoyment of 50+ little rugrat children, I am exhausted yet excited to be back to writing and everything that comes with it. Our church has very limited wifi and, while I love that place, that was the worst week to not have air conditioning in parts of the building. When Friday came around and brought 105-degree heat (with humidity), I was grateful to be stationed inside and not out in sports or the craft tent this year. I'll take shoving my hand in a dinosaur puppet or handing out toys to kids over being outside in that heat any day! Spending the week at church the way I did was fun and I enjoyed seeing all the kids so happy and having fun.

The last two days, on the other hand, have been particularly hard for me as I broke one of my front teeth playing with my sister's husky Monday night and found out the hard way that my job doesn't have a dental plan. Now, I have to wait until I can get onto the state's dental plan and hope that it will cover a crown or something, but in the meantime, I've been really struggling with how it looks as I've only recently gotten into a good mental space with my appearance and this has thrown me off a lot. Thankfully, when I talk, you can't really tell as my upper lip covers it for the most part, but I've got this little pointy shard of a tooth where it used to be, I hate how it feels, and it's made me immensely self-conscious. I have my dad's family's terrible teeth and I knew this, but I wasn't prepared for this in the slightest. I'm hoping to someday have dental implants to fix the issues that come with my family's genetics and make me feel more comfortable with my smile again, but for now, I just have to wait and see what can be done.

Anyway, on a different note, you may have noticed that I lowered the chapter count for Camp Wanamaker to 10 instead of 11 and, while I tried so hard to come up with ideas for the murder mystery chapter in my minimal free time throughout the week, nothing was working and I ended up just getting more frustrated with it than anything. As much as I love the vibe of a murder mystery event, I just could not come up with any solid ideas for it and ended up tossing it out. I will still end up mentioning little details about it and stuff, but as for that chapter, I have thrown it into my little trash bin and am moving on to the next part. I really want to keep the continuity of the story in line with current days and, while I hadn't had the time to write last week because of the church program or the last few days because of the whole situation with my tooth, I am still aiming to finish everything by the last week of August as it is the week that surrounds Vivien's birthday. That has been a goal of mine since the beginning and I want to hold myself to it as much as I can.

Even if I can't make that date and it goes into September a little bit, that's fine. I'm still taking things as they get thrown at me (literally, in some cases lmao) and working through the stress of everything. I'm hoping to get back into the swing of things soon and, hopefully, everything will be alright. Anyway, I'll leave you with that and I hope that your week is better than mine has been so far haha

[seancodydotcom]

15 questions, 15 mutuals

Tagged by @ahamkaracature

1) am i named after anyone?

Yes. Ancient european tradition of giving your child their own name and then 4 other names that reference the family.

2) last time i cried.

This week bc exams mentally broke me and i was watching the clone high reboot and someone died tragically but it was supposed to be funny but it was just sad :(

3) do i have kids?

By god i hope not i'm not ready to be a teenage dad

4) do i use sarcasm often?

Not as much as i used to, also depends on who honestly

5) have i played any sports?

Tennis. Simply always stuck with it. I like it. I'm pretty good at it (to the point where every ball sport with some kind of stick is simply Another Variant of tennis to me). Swimming is a close second but never joined a club or anything i just like it very much

6) first thing i notice about people

Clothes i guess? Idk kinda hard to tell i used to be on guard too much to really pay attention

7) eye color

Grey-ish green-ish with a little bit of blue. Normally around now they should start changing to green-brown-ish but my contacts prevent it

8) scary movie or happy ending

:)

9) special talents

Tennis? If you count that one. Able to draw better than most but still bad (little bit better in technical drawing)

10) where were you born?

Listen this country is so small i'd practically be doxxing myself. So not specific but: Flanders

11) hobbies

tennis, reading, writing (sometimes). Movies

12) any pets?

Yes: little Wifi, my cat

13) How tall?

1.80m

14) Favorite school subject:

Geography and english

15) dream job

Honestly i don't know anymore. I'll probably be like a soil analysist in the future

Tagging: @illegalboyfriend @bambi-lesbian-posts @moresavagethanpreviouslythought (i had more mutuals but they went inactive sometime over this year 😭)

[yawnzzjun]

- LOVE OVER LIFE

9. Do you love me?

It's been an ungodly amount of days ever since Beomgyu and I spoke to each other. I didn't have the guts to click on his chat, after that night he left me in the rain I didn't know how to approach him.

Here I am, walking to my desk without my seat mate. He haven't shown up to school ever since the incident and my old friends just picks on me about it. I sometimes look back at my past school life, how it was blossoming and blooming, now I'm in Beomgyu's seat, taking in his lifestyle.

The devil in the back of my head sometimes tells me that I shouldn't have talked to him.. but it was worth it right? I got many amazing memories with him and it was fun to sneak around but is this what I really need to get in exchange? My life ruin? I sighed as I rest my head on my desk.

Should I have listened to Ama?

-

Beomgyu yet again wasn't at school, for exams even. It's now summer, swinging alone on the swing at the park with a popsicle in my mouth I started to wonder how to fix my current problem. I'm sure Beomgyu had moved on right? Here I am, the biggest fool holding on to a problem since mid term..

What would it be like to have Beomgyu here with me? Sharing a popsicle. I've always wanted to do that. Thoughts of him still runs in me but does it run in him? Does he still love me?

Finishing the sweet snack I decided to text him. I wasn't looking for a response or comfort, I just wanted to discuss things face to face. A mature way right? We are not kids, we are teenagers. Laying around being all gloomy isn't the right way.

yn: Beomgyu I want to have a talk.

yn: Meet me at the park.

yn: Please.

Those three messages felt like some rocks got off me, finally passed over a blockage I gave myself. But soon fell back on when I saw the seen by my messages and no response but like I say I didn't needed a response right? Still the suspense only have me nibbling on my nails.

-

Been.. the whole day. No one showed up. 10pm. Here I am on the swing with a popsicle stick in my mouth. Am I really a joke? Of course he wasn't going to show up.. Yet the small tears roll down a bit, I held onto some hope I found but it broke. Yet I told myself staying there was the good choice, maybe he would come.

11pm..

12am..

I should really get going. I won't risk it for a boy. But said boy showed up.

"Y/n you're really still out here waiting.."

I turned around to see him in a hoodie with the hood over his head. He looked away from my eye contact and sat on the swing next to mine. I sat back down and stared off.

"Do you love me?"

Said question caught him off guard. He stared at me as I didn't look back, continuing to stare off into the distant.

He didn't respond so I did to myself.

"I do."

"Huh?"

"I still love you.'

We stayed in silence, no one managed to say anything. Until I got up and he looked up.

"You don't love me anymore."

"I never said that."

"Do you love me?"

..

"I don't know.."

The answer didn't satisfy me as of right now. Blinded by being forgotten by him. I spoke without thinking.

"You don't love me anymore because I lied to stay close to you."

"I didn't say that-"

"You also don't love me because I was once the known girl in school who probably just talked to you because of a dare right?"

"What? What are you even trying to get at?"

He said standing up.

"Isn't that what you thought of me?"

"No! I would I? Are you okay?"

..

Am I fine? Where are these words coming from. Is it my fears talking over me?

"I'm perfectly fine thank you very much Beomgyu, I would like to get going home we can discuss the rest tomorrow.."

I said walking away from the boy who stared at his shoes lost in his thoughts.

sadly I had family problems that blocked me from writing and i also had no damn wifi for two weeks so sorry abt late chapters😞😒

TAGLIST: @snert-bees @sunsettt13

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#beomgyu #choi yeonjun #together x tomorrow #tomorrow x together #yeonjun #choi beomgyu #choi soobin #kang taehyun #txt fluff #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu x reader #txt x reader #txt fanfic #txt angst #hueningkai x reader #txt yeonjun #txt imagines #txt #soobin #yeonjun x reader #soobin x reader #angst #beomgyu angst

[dank-memer-to-the-extreme-r]

Can't Drink Wine, But Can Whine

Summer is extremely uncomfortable for me. For some reason I can't handle the heat at all this year, not like last year. This might be because of the mysterious health problem I've developed over the past 6 or so months.

I'm lucky enough to have an air con in my room, but good god do I need one for the office. My bedroom is way too cramped to fit a desk in there, and my air con is too big to drag out anywhere else. Yes, first world problems. But still, it's hot as all hell, even with a fan pointed at me.

Also I hate not having an ergonomic chair. My back constantly hurts and it just adds to the discomfort.

Currently saving up for an air conditioner for the office and an ergonomic chair, but it's very slow because I'm a broke uni student and have to pay for expensive health insurance that I absolutely need for personal reasons I don't want to share. That, rent, food, and wifi suck up pretty much all of my money. Hence why I'm trying to start up an Etsy/Gumroad business and do content creation on the side. I'm starting off with clip compilations, but I might branch off into tutorials and gaming content with voice over. I'm very insecure about my tics, though. But for some reason I'm not afraid of creating things on YouTube anymore, so long as I don't show my face. It's not like people can hate me when I have 0 views. I've got nothing to lose, so long as people don't know who I am.

Anyhow, I can't live anywhere cheaper because of the rental crisis (there's literally nowhere available). I'm honestly lucky I'm not living under a bridge.

Overall, I'm extremely uncomfortable, and my sensory issues just make it a hell of a lot worse. Plus my disability makes things a lot worse, too. It could be worse, it could always be worse, but sometimes I feel like I'm stuck in my own personal hell. The only things that make me feel better is friends, the few family members I get along with, good food, animals, and the topics I'm endlessly passionate about that I keep switching between. These are the things that are literally keeping me alive. They make my life worth living.

I generally believe life is 50% hell 50% heaven. I feel that I've been through most of the hell, so surely things will start to get better soon. Life doesn't feel like it's in motion yet, but I'm sure it will when uni holidays are over. I just feel frozen in time, yet I'm also aware of every passing second getting closer to death.

I'm unfulfilled, incomplete, a work in progress. I feel like an unfinished painting, but I am the painter. I can't let myself slip away like I sometimes want to, not now, not ever, not until I've done what I've set out to do.

I'm a very motivated person, but my consistency is spread out. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, it means I can develop a few skills to a high level, just not one skill at a time. One skill at a time would be more efficient, but I don't operate that way. My neurodivergent brain won't allow it. I'm extremely creative because of it, though. Honestly if I could choose to be different, I don't think I would.

My memory issues are terrible, though. I don't remember most people from a year ago or longer, unless they traumatised me in some way, and even then, I only sometimes remember. I just remember how they made me feel. I remember to stay away from them. That's for the best, I'd say.

Honestly, I don't remember what happened almost at all if it's longer than a month ago, unless I'm in a certain frame of mind that remembers it. It's complicated. Really, I struggle to remember yesterday. I mostly live in today, with a little bit of yesterday, and flickers of the recent past. I know facts about myself, I even know things happened sometimes, but I lack the memories of them. They're just blank, empty. I don't think I'm supposed to know. If I remembered how much I suffer on a daily basis I think I'd have a breakdown and give up on life. In a way, I'm very lucky that I don't.

My dream messenger is a gigantic crow with shiny black feathers, and he's told me that sometimes losing things is for the best. I'm inclined to believe him.

#vent #content creators #students #aussie #neurodivergent #actually neurodivergent #productivity #january 2024 #creativity #stressed #frustrated #pain #motivated #beginner #still learning

[graaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa]

On names

Emily, Rhoswen Juzou, Toph, Hollis, and now Fable Elliot Hyde. I have never had a name that wholly and truly felt right for all time. It has made the sort of intimate moments where you would expect your name to be an expression of love into awkward, turn-offy, halting messes. Since I got this name, I have felt somewhat trapped in it. My previous names have generally been untethered. I got Rhoswen Juzou from a combination of some hours searching through baby name websites looking for the perfect meaning to replace my deadname - which felt like a coil of ropes that was tying me to my parents and the (mild, but present) religious and homophobia-related trauma of my grade school years - and a fascination with a certain white-haired, traumatized, gender-fluid (I headcanon) ghoul investigator. After a two day binge of Avatar: the Last Airbender (in which i barely ate or slept), i renamed myself Toph, because, though a girl, she was tough and outspoken and had that careful combination of naivety and stony exterior that I wanted for myself (I, too, am glad I got past that), combined with her disability, which made her unique. As someone who vaguely identified as non-binary and used a combination of they/them and he/they pronouns at the time, I struggled with the fact that she was a girl, though my friends helped me to avoid that particular sector of dysphoria quite well.

When I listened to The Adventure Zone: Amnesty, I experienced something quite new to me: an explicitly non-binary character. Hollis was tough, implied to be amab, and the leader of a biker gang, but they still showed massive amounts of compassion for their members. They were the healthiest vision I had had for myself up to then, in mid-2020 when I was quite a shut-in and a screen hog who only came out of my room for food. I had the role model I wanted, but before I ever committed to the name, I lost my access to the internet and all of my friends because of complex personal and familial issues that culminated in big trouble for incoming 9th grader me. Left with no electronics besides a bedside alarm as the semester began (my first semester being at a fully online k-12 charter school), and not being allowed to spend much time by myself, I lost much of the identity I had been working so carefully to craft. I was lifeless and bare, always in fight or flight mode. As my attempts at reaching my friends on some of the loneliest nights came crashing down each in succession, I gave up hope of having a life outside of school for the time being. As my relationship with my parents got less tense, I felt more confident about being myself in my online classes over adobe connect. I clung to hope that my pure but inevitably queer insinuations in class chat boxes and my steadily increasing ventures into topics that my parents and I did not agree on in class discussions and assignments would not trip any alarms with the wifi router. I was building myself up from bare without the resources I previously had had laid out before me. And all throughout this, a small part of me was named Hollis. Hundreds of paper sudoku puzzles, secret journaling that never, ever broke streak for nearly 3 years, a stick-and-poke tattoo that I had given myself before my stuff was taken, and that name were what I held fast onto for the year where I did not have a phone. It all felt very dramatic to me as a 14- and 15-year-old, but even now as a freshman in college it affects me profoundly to think and write about.

In 2022, I got my driver’s license shortly after receiving a new phone for my birthday (so they could keep tabs on me and/or make sure I was safe, depending on if you're an optimist or a pessimist I suppose). At first I only ever went to martial arts class, then to the museum where my mother worked, then to hang out with one of my friends who also volunteered at the museum (by hanging out I mean sensual experimentation, which my parents had their suspicions about but I did my best to lie as little as I could without getting in trouble or crafting a huge network of lies like the one I had had before the incident). Then, I got close to another guy at this museum. It is hard to say what specifically compelled me to do things with him. Perhaps it was just a want of experimentation further than what the other guy was comfortable with or wanted, maybe it was hormones. It is also possible that I genuinely thought he was a good person that I could communicate and have a purely sexual and platonic relationship with. That is a long story in itself that I can’t remember a great deal of due to emotional distress from both the relationship and school work overloading me, and witnessing a shooting late that year. To put it succinctly, we experimented physically, dated for a bit near the end, then stopped talking completely.

When we started getting involved was around the same time that I stopped putting labels on love because, to me, they are incredibly limiting. I decided that I must in some way be aromantic because of how friendly and romantic love often blended together for me and the fact that I felt comfortable with kissing some of my friends on the lips, among other things I became all right with as time went on. This was tough for a cishet guy with deep internalized homophobia who wanted a romantic relationship with me at first to understand. He wanted labels and tradition and something that was easy to explain to his parents, and I wanted no part in any of that, but I allowed it to continue likely for reasons aforementioned and because I thought I could make it work, I thought I could fix him (a trait I have worked on and continue to do so!). I have trouble remembering what was whose fault. I think we both tried, at times, and I think neither of us did at other times. Whatever we were doing, we did not have the emotional maturity, clarity of thought, or compatibility for it to work out. One thing I know was on him was his apparent inability to perceive me how I wanted to be seen in terms of my gender identity. To have a deeply sensual and sexual connection with someone and then to be told that “I still have to think of you as female/a woman in order to be sexually attracted to you” (in some other terms I am sure, but that is how I can describe it) is deeply upsetting for someone who was already struggling to strike a balance between putting myself into words and not. I slowly succumbed to labels and fell into traps of his and my own manipulation as our relationship fell apart in early-mid 2023.

I went to college that summer. An hour away from home, which felt way too close. Growing up in the south, the only place I ever wanted to be was out. It was not my dream vision of college, but I have found some of the most important people that I have ever met here. And I met a guy who was instrumental in my rediscovery of myself. He is now my husband. Not legally yet, not married by a minister (his religion is very private to him, and I am agnostic), but, in his words, “God knows it.” And in my words, “spiritually to me honey we're like already married.” I am incredibly lucky to have found him, but that’s not the point here.

When I got to college, these people did not ask me what my gender was. To know my pronouns was enough because it was all they needed to know. They knew it and I knew it. And because of this, I was so much more willing to have long conversations - both with myself and with others - about my gender identity and my sexuality. This was not just a sudden willingness to say “I am non-binary.” This was the ability to have an hours-long conversation where I use as many words to describe how I feel as I could possibly think of. For my gender, I would use “trans,” “masc,” “non-binary,” “gender non-conforming,” “gender queer.” For my sexual, romantic, and friendly attraction, I could describe it as “bi,” “pan,” “omni,” “poly,” “demi,” etc, but I generally would just describe myself as queer. It has a certain vagueness, a strange combination of heft and lightheartedness, and a punk rock feeling of reclamation that makes me feel very at home, but it is still just a word to me. Both of these lists are completely in-comprehensive and yet even the full lists of the words I would use in these conversations are woefully inept when compared to the simple feeling of being this… this THING.

If you would, I’ll ask you to do something for me. Think of those conversations, the millions of blogposts about what it is like to be bisexual, the transmasc experience, think of the dysphoria and the lines of questioning that we nearly all do at some point in our lives once we realize that the questions are there to be asked. Think of the realizations. Think of gender. Think of sexuality. Think of how these are two incomprehensibly small parts of who we are and what we do, even if they seem to take up a lot of our time and thought. Think of what you ate for breakfast. Please, eat breakfast.

Now imagine putting all of this together into one being. Imagine putting everything on a bagel… and then calling it Fable.

That’s me.

At some point in my former relationship, I decided finally that Hollis was too similar to my mother’s name, and it bothered me. My partner, though he almost never actually used my chosen name because of how often he interacted with my mother (I didn't want any slip ups), sat with me for hours listening to me read names and meanings off of a baby name website. We decided on a last name together too because neither of us liked our last names. Hence, I kind of felt like this name had to stick because I was getting so close to the age at which I could legally change it and because I had had my first experience of deciding what my legal name would be as part of a couple.

Quick sidebar - I read Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse Five around this time, and the concept of Tralfamadorian books absolutely pulled me in. If you are not aware, here are some slight spoilers (that in my opinion are really just fuel to make you want to read the book more): The main character is kidnapped at one point by aliens called Tralfamadorians, which are beings separate from time. They experience literally all of time at all times. They are a wild and beautiful concept in and of themselves, but what I love more are their books. Collections of images, poems, and prose that have nothing to do with one another. On the trip back to Tralfamadore from Earth, which iirc takes 500 (?) years, the main character gets very bored and reads the one human book that they have over and over again before asking if they have any books of their own. One of the aliens explains that even if he could read their language, he would not understand the books. They see and experience every part of these books all at once. Even when they are not reading them, which they always are. Because some version of them at some time (which is always taking place at exactly the same time, all the time) is always doing everything they have ever done and will ever do. I hope you see why I love them so much now.

I want my body to be a Tralfamadorian book of tattoos, scars, and random marks I collect over my lifetime (like stretch marks and cellulite, which I am deeply in love with). I have that wonderful stick-and-poke heart directly over my heart, I have butterflies whose meaning warrants written words of this length just by themselves, and I want a shit ton more. I want a dragon on my right side, climbing up me, mostly because I think it would look sick as fuck. I want bees on my torso, because I love the Earth. I want Be Kind in gothic font on my clavicle. I want an airplane flying around my left thigh and leaving a smoke trail because I love flying (I have my pilot’s certificate). I want a frog dressed up as a barista on my left arm, and my husband wants one dressed up as a mechanic (or whatever career path I end up on by the time we move off together) on his right arm, so they can kiss when we lean up next to each other. I want a hundred more little things, all wrapped in flowering vines. On the areas where a chest compression binder and a nice pair of boxers sit on me, I want it all in color with a stark line of contrast. None of this would be much of a story by itself, but it shows off the work in progress of a fully formed being who contains multitudes when you put it together. And it still isn't even the full story of me! Shit is as hard to put into pictures as it is to put into words, especially for someone who can't draw (like me).

In essence, there is no one word for me. I feel the same about the people that I am close to. Saying their names and people saying my name feels like just a description, an almost arbitrary value assigned to them either by the world or themselves. An approximation. As someone who dabbles in linguistics I find it so deeply fascinating how hard we try to contain such multitudes into a very small collection of letters and how short we inevitably fall most times.

I recently wanted to explain this feeling of detachment from my name to my husband. In fact, I had to. It was important to me that he understood this because hearing my name in deeply intimate moments can be off putting, and I wanted him to know why I react a certain way to that so that we could take away the cause and attack the root of the problem together. I explained that terms of endearment are fine, wonderful even. I know that when he calls me honey, love, devil, cutie, or other similar things, there is never an attempt to grasp at and contain in one word something that cannot be explained in one million words. Even hearing him call me “my fable, my story” is cheesy and joyful rather than disconcerting because it reflects a part of him (the adorable part) rather than who I am and what I am. I feel that a name can be objectifying and reductive if used in a way that tries to capture and define the entirety of someone. I have realized this especially with having a noun for a name, a fun little state of being that I like to call “entirely my fault, and yet wonderful in its own ways.” I have come to enjoy the concept that one of my friends rocks with of having people call them “whatever, as long as you don’t call me late to dinner.” Because what the fuck IS in a name? Multitudes. But what is in a person? An infinite number of multitudes. Fuck yeah.

To speak on love again, I feel that there are as many words for love as there are names of people that you love. And of course, I have already discussed how many names we could put to a single part of a person, much less the person themselves. I have also become more comfortable with the concept of labeling romantic love as such after realizing that I can choose when or if I want to do so. I have free will! Insane. My relationship with my husband helped with this as we went from being friends who were physically involved but neither of us ready for a relationship to being boyfriends over the course of a few months. The moment he asked me out, I put that concept of romantic love back into the air. Whatever way I feel about other people, I know for a fact that I want to be with him, so I decided (pretty recently actually) that that could be my way of defining when my love for someone was romantic: if I want to be with them. in a romantic relationship. seems obvious when I think about it now but it wasn't at all a few months ago.

I have heard people talk about detachment from their names before, but this has always been phrased as a temporary condition which will end as soon as they find the “perfect” name. For me, I know that that perfection does not exist. I know that if I truly had a name that put all of me into one word, this would never be a word that we as humans could speak. We could try and contort our tongues, but we simply couldn’t make the sound. To hear it would melt our brains. To read it would make us go blind.

But I know that I taste it. When I kiss my husband, I can feel what I am, what he is, the separate thing of what we are together. None of it makes sense to say in any mortal language, but I think that that is what makes it beautiful. The fact that it is infallible and untouchable. My husband will never be able to describe exactly who I am because the words do not exist. I think he might know, though, through the countless times he’s seen me in tears over the feeling of his skin and the warmth of being together. Maybe he just knows the person that I am when we are together, it is possible that that’s different from the person I am when we are apart, whether that is intentional or not. If I am different when apart from him, I surely don’t know, and I know that there are multitudes to him that I could not even imagine, the byproduct of him just being a more private person than I am though he would readily answer any question any questions about himself I could pose to him (the problem being that in the infinite abyss of questions, I'd rather just witness the parts of himself that he has offered up. I also can't even fathom the questions I would ask, which obviously presents a problem if I wanted to ask them). The point is that we know enough of each other to know that we are incredibly happy together and to know that we could never find a true name, at least for me, even with all the letters in every alphabet that exists.

Please accept my humble offering unto a conversation that, as far as I know, does not exist beyond the bits of it I have had with my husband and two dear friends. I hope you find the same wonderful sense of being lost in it as I did, and I hope you find joy in knowing yourself however you do.

#on love #on names

[nickgerlich]

Scan And Shop

Marketers are always looking for new ways to get their messages in front of our eyes and ears. It all began with print, broadcast, and outdoor in the analog world, and then, starting in the 1990s, evolved to include very modest forms of digital advertising. Banner ads caused all the buzz, because users could interact by simply clicking, and then were whisked away to a website.

This too evolved in a number of directions, from social media ads to in-store and gas pump ads. Recently, shoppable ads on sites like TikTok and Instagram have become all the rage.

And now Vizio and Home Depot have partnered to provide shoppable content on Vizio’s CTVs (Connected TVs) with a series called Merry & Bright. It’s another clever way to sneak in some ads when we might not otherwise be expecting it.

Of the US households with a television set, 87% have a CTV, which we have also called Smart TVs. They are connected via wifi to the internet, and are really just big computer screens with a browser. Unless you have an old-school cable or satellite box tethered to it, the only wires attached to the set are for power. We’ve gone wireless.

When I first turn on my Vizio in the Man Cave, I arrive at a home screen. On that screen I find clickable icons for all the streaming services I have, some I don’t have, PPV movies…and now, the ability to watch 10-minute videos produced by Home Depot. See something you like? Scan the QR code, and you’ll be forwarded on your phone to the appropriate product page at Home Depot.

Even though our smartphone is a necessary component in both shoppable social media and Merry & Bright videos, the latter start with the TV set. Since we more than likely have our phone nearby, it is not a big ask for people to scan the QR code, which then sends them off shopping.

As I said, when the advert is coming to you in an unexpected format, it can catch you off-guard. That’s not to say I don’t have some concerns about it, though.

For example, success of these long-form ads depends in large part on the viewer even noticing it on the home screen, a place that is already cluttered with content. Vizio provides a number of free viewing options, but I have only looked at them once. I am not interested in “free” because to me that is code for old, tired, and just plain bad.

And then there is the matter of keeping people’s attention for 10 minutes. I instantly did a mental comparison to infomercials. Remember those from last century? They usually aired in the middle of the night, and if you weren’t careful, you could get sucked into a 30-minute program-length advertisement. Worse yet, you may have grabbed your credit card and phone to call in your order. (Remember, I said this was last century!)

Buuuuut…since I am a marketing prof, and I do like to give everything a fair shot, I turned off The Weather Channel, went to my Vizio home screen, and clicked the Merry & Bright icon. It is slick, subtle, and very well done.

This is slice-of-life in the purest sense, because the content series features three families and how they use Home Depot products to deck their halls for the holiday season. The shows are hosted by Jordin Sparks, a former American Idol winner.

And it is much better than those infomercials of old, which featured an announcer or two in front of a studio audience all being told when and how loudly to fawn over something. The tone is very conversational, and I saw how easy it is to visualize how these products could work in my own home.Like I said…this is clever.

I suspect we will see far more of this in the future. Thanks to COVID, we have (finally) embraced QR codes in our daily lives. That CoinBase ad during the 2022 Super Bowl caught everyone’s attention (and temporarily broke their website), unleashing a slew of ads using the same method. Taking the ball and running with it like Home Depot just did—and they have to pay Vizio for the privilege—is the wave of the future.

Imagine now, if you will, TV shows and movies with QR codes down in the corner. Paid product placement could suddenly soar to heights never before imagined. Actually, this was imagined nearly 20 years ago. They just didn’t have the means to do it. But now, if a company wants to pay to sponsor it on Hulu’s Only Murders In The Building, they could do so. The handy QR code could pop up at the precise moment their product is center stage.

I can see this becoming as pervasive as banner ads were 25 years ago. Get ready for it, and if you have a Vizio CTV, get on it to check it out. This old prof is impressed.

Dr “Ready…Set…Shop” Gerlich

Audio Blog

#marketing #Home Depot #Vizio #shoppable #online

[nicetrynicetry]

62

Somehow they changed the branding of a yoghurt I like while I was away for a mere 8 days, throwing my sense of time into disarray. I buy it anyway, and take it home with a wad of packing material in a cab that has a license plate ending in LFG. Let’s Fucking Go, indeed. I am unsure why, now that I’m not broke, I insisted on doing my own packing for the move, because I’m no less bad at it now than when it was a necessity. I would love to be the type to label boxes according to rooms, perhaps with a label maker, and liberal use of FRAGILE tape, but I’m not. In most of my ikea bags lies a coat, some bedding, 3 bowls and an iPhone cable, and a five pound note

I did not allow for the warm weather on moving day, meticulously planning an array of hot beverages for the guys loading their van. They ask for something cold and they’re shit out of luck - in my fridge is 2 inches of milk from a 1 litre container, my Binch cookies from Korea and a can of Diet Coke. Having movers over is not not hosting, it’s also not not a mental health assessment. Here is my baggage, the resident says, this is what I need to be rid of and this is what I’d like to keep, and please be careful with X Y and Z, I got it from my family

All that’s liberating about this week is also what’s terrifying: that this is my last move for a while. I have moved in London almost 15 times, each place increasing in its sense of permanence. But I’ve never invested quite so much in a home as in this next one: whatever challenges it poses are to be addressed, literally, in-house, rather than escaped from with a new lease, a new set of contracts. It’s funny that Korea seemed like the most psychologically demanding of this crazy autumn, when it’s beginning to look like the easiest. Though this might just be because it’s over, and it was so supremely foreign that none of my problems felt real there. I never did master the conversion rate from ₩ to GBP, and I spent and ate with the cavalier attitude of a child playing a slot machine at a seaside arcade. But here I know exactly what everything is costing me, and that it’s permanent, and that I will lose so many items to my poor packing skills that I will buy them again erupting in guilt

Later, as I near the halfway mark of the 11 hour job that is packing old items into new cupboards, I will find a lone AirPod in the fridge. I will have a number of doubts about a number of parts of a number of rooms. I will feel a little suicidal, just an ambient urge. I will fear for my safety when I hear new sounds outside the front of my house and will learn that these are created by local squirrels, storing up for winter, investigating their new neighbour. J will go above and beyond to help me settle. I seem surrounded by people who go above and / or beyond, and I feel that familiar ache of not focusing on gratitude, instead focusing on a faulty wifi connection or a kitchen storage solution. V comes over on my first night and gets me fed and helps me figure out my fridge and dishwasher’s instructions. We can officially walk to one another’s homes in just over 10 minutes. A few autumn leaves blow through the window I crack in order to smoke, and I feel almost okay knowing that the only difference between not feeling okay and feeling okay is a decision I make

[anxiouslyfred]

My Camping Holiday interpreted by the sanders sides

If I were to compare me, mum and mark on last weeks holiday to the sides well...

Let's start with before the holiday. at that point I was Virgil, checking I could fit everything into my bag that I thought I'd need, still almost forgetting 1 important thing but essentially being the one to stress over everything to the point I didn't want the holiday at all

Also remained Virgil while putting the tent up, cause let me tell you, NEVER TRY PUTTING A TENT UP IN HEAVY WIND AND RAIN

I stood for a while panicking and holding up a bit of tent cause the tent pole had snapped after being put in place. the weather was not helpful and broke our fucking tent. I spent the first night terrified it would fall over on top of me cause guess who claimed the section of the tent with the snapped tent pole. so yeah, I was Virgil for that first day.

The closest I got to being Logan on the trip was in searching places we thought about going or things we were asking about on my phone and being the only one of us to check for WiFi cause why constantly use data... well that and I read 6 books in a week, 2 of them poetry collections, 1 graphic novel, 1 silly books about cats, and 2 Terry Pratchett novels. most actual books I've read in a while.

Roman was definitely who I was when literally just vanishing from them both, walking along a section because we were at a seaside town but to find it I had to go exploring. (Boscastle has like a harbour bit that I think is naturally formed by the land so the town isn't directly on the seafront)

I think Mark was Logan. He always plays tetris to get everything in the car and trust me, after an hour in it, let alone 4 I fell like a tetris piece too. everything must be in a bag and he will fit it in... and almost forget to include my clothes cause I didn't put them on top of the other bags waiting to be packed into the car.

Let's be honest here too, mark is usually Logan, obsessed with numbers (plane id numbers, eddie stobbart numbers, bus id numbers, you name it, he seems to keep note of it), with a literal stalk his family app to keep track of where they are and they do so in return, and tended to be the one figuring out the plan along with being designated driver cause I can't drive and he refuses to add mum to his insurance.

Remus possessed Mark on the second to last day, technically the last but we stayed at his that night instead of coming straight home. I say this cause he decided to fucking stab their air bed.

granted it had punctured in the night, but guys, Mum and I were both on top of this air bed, trying to deflate it when he came into the tent with whatever stabby thing wasn't packed out of reached and got annoyed at me for instinctively trying to get away from the bed and him cause he tripped on the tent. sorry for not wanting to get stabbed remus mark, it's NEVER going to be on my to do list.

Also I know our tent has ways to section off 2 rooms which we use on these holidays, but that doesn't mean mark should just strip off in the main section of the tent, right in front of my completely open section. fucking hell, he definitely wanted to be intrulogical on that day and definitely gave evidence to why I was right to forever keep my section closed

Mum was Patton, actually, calling it now, except for the constant fucking annoying self-deprecation, she's generally always going to be Patton or maybe Roman on this trip, absent minded and emotional, making dumb unfunny jokes (I yelled at her about one in a service station on the way back, only so much repetition can be taken for her misguided views mascarading as jokes)

I think the only side that I can't say any of us blatently embodied was Janus and for that all I can say it that it took till the last day for me to yell at either of them. Janus was definitely in me keeping my mouth shut so I didn't need to get a train home or something.

I think I'm just going to avoid being included in the next camping trip/ next years holiday. Perhaps I can get Bethany to double book me or something.

#Fred rambles #camping #translating my life via sasi #sasi

[rjcollinsauthor]

Chapter 24:

The talk with Henry didn't make me feel any better about why he hid a whole family that was a part of Blue Rose from me.

"How long are you going to keep doing this?" I asked Noah.

Today he followed me into the library because I had to get some work done, and the wifi inside the dorms wasn't working.

"I don't know. How long will it take for you to believe me?"

I groaned and put my head down on the table.

"Get up, or I'll pick you up."

I lifted my head, knowing he wasn't joking in the slightest.

"What?"

"Follow me."

He got up from the table and disappeared into the rows of bookshelves. I sighed and left my stuff behind to follow him. The students here wouldn't dare bother Noah's stuff and the girl they knew he formerly fucked. Noah led me to a place in the library that was barely lit. There was a random table in the corner.

"What?"

"You need to relax. You're too stressed."

"Mmm. Maybe that could have something to do with a stalker?"

"No, this is something more."

I hated when he somehow knew what I felt when I didn't even know half the time.

"Fine. It's not about you."

"Then what is it about?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay then, we don't have to talk."

"Good." I started to walk back, but he grabbed me by my waist and lifted me onto the table. "What the fuck are you doing?" I quietly hissed at him.

He got on his knees and looked up at me. "Relaxing you."

Before I could get another word in, he had his head under my skirt. I had to put a hand over my mouth to keep from moaning out loud as he moved my panties aside and sucked on my clit. I groaned into my hand as he expertly pushed me exactly where I needed to go. I grabbed his soft wavy hair and put my legs over his shoulders, and leaned back like every time before; he ate me as if I were his last meal. He looked up at me and inserted two fingers inside me while maintaining contact. I couldn't look away from him, and it seemed he couldn't either. The intensity , the feel of his tongue, and the motion of his fingers brought me to an orgasm that had been building for a while. I came on his face, and he broke eye contact to push me further. I came for a second time, my legs shaking and trying to force myself to be quiet.

Noah got up, pushed my skirt down, licked his lips in the hottest way possible, winked at me, and disappeared through the bookshelves again. I hurried to adjust myself and look like I hadn't just gotten my pussy eaten in a library corner. When I got back to the table, Noah's stuff was still there, but he wasn't , so I assume he went to the bathroom to clean up. I sat back in my chair, and I swear a few people looked at me like they just knew. Maybe it was Noah having my release on his face, or I was walking funny because I sure felt like I was. Noah returned to the table with an extra pep in his step and sat back down across from me.

"Can I ride with you to the Blue Rose meeting?" I asked Noah as we walked out of the library.

"Yeah." he seemed surprised, and I was too. Honestly, with the orgasm he just gave me, I would buy him some shoes if he asked.

The meeting tonight at Blue Rose was an emergency meeting, and I knew it had to do with their money being gone. It was now in different charities across the world along with several offshore bank accounts. Billions of dollars are just gone. I couldn't wait to see how they were  going to spin this. Noah and I got to the Blue Rose's hotel and were immediately let in.

Noah had dropped me off at my dorm first so that I could change into a white dress with my blue rose diamond necklace I got after my initiation. Noah walked over to sit with his family, and I could swear I saw a hint of pain in his eyes when he left my side. I could feel his eyes on me  as I walked to Henry's table. I sat next to him, and I could tell he was excited as me.

This time the first successors were behind the High Court. We were all served champagne before Wallace Grant, got to the podium.

"I want to start by giving my sincere apology for this last-minute meeting, but some pressing matters have come up that need to be discussed." he took a moment, and I heard the chatter of the crowd, and when he began to speak, again there was silence. "The fund for Blue Rose is gone."

Chaos.

I have never seen a group of people panic as fast as they started to. Henry and I feign being worried. I noticed that Noah was looking back at me with a knowing look. I don't care if he knows. I don't believe he'll tell his grandfather about me, knowing that if he did, he would lose me forever.

"Everyone, calm down. We know who has done this, and we will get our money back shortly."

Henry and I looked at each other, and the fake worried looks were now real. No, he couldn't possibly know it was us. We covered our digital tracks, and Jessica was never seen. Riley made sure all the nearby cameras has a system reboot to not make any security start panicking and to give her enough time to get in and out.

"It's the Dumas family punishing us for kicking them out. Don't worry because we will hunt them down and take back what is ours."

From worried and chaos turned into relief. From their reactions, it showed me how bloodthirsty these people really are. Henry and I looked at each once more, and without saying a word, we knew we couldn't let that happen.

The meeting ended, and Henry and I said goodbye and promised to see each other soon. I was going to his house in the morning, and I had no doubt he would warn Alice. Noah grabbed me by the arm and pushed me into a coat closet outside the conference room.

"You need to return the money," he said.

I yanked my arm away from him. "I'm not doing shit. That is blood money."

"Lena, he will find out it was you. Until then, he'll kill anyone he even suspects involved."

"Then make it, so he never finds out it was me."

He looked at me like I was crazy. "I can't do that. I wouldn't even know where to begin."

"Lead him away from us. Anyone but the Dumas family."

"Why not the Dumas?"

"Because they have already lost so much."

"They broke tradition, they knew what would happen to them."

"So you're telling me that if there was  a Dumas woman your age right now, you'd leave me alone and marry her?"

My heart seemed to beat faster as I waited for his answer. He appeared as hesitant as me to give it.

"No. I would choose you every time."

I nodded and couldn't find the words to describe how that made me feel. We walked out of the closet and were greeted by Wallace Grant. I had to stop myself from cowering behind Noah.

"Grandfather." Noah greeted him.

"Noah, Miss Warren."

"Lena, please, your excellency" I said.

He smiled at me in a way that chilled me to my core.

"Call me, Wallace. Lena, I had no idea you and Noah were dating."

"Oh, we aren't-"

"Yes, grandfather. Since the start of school." Noah interrupted me and reached down to hold my hand.

Wallace looked down at our hands and back up to our eyes. He was calculating, and I had no doubt he probably thought we were full of shit.

"You must come to dinner tonight and meet the family."

"She's busy tonight. But next time, she will."

"Nonsense. This is one of the few times we've had the family together. And although it's not an ideal time, I know everyone would love to get to know the girlfriend you've been hiding. I'll see you both there."

He walked away, and I couldn't let go of Noah's hand. It was the only thing bringing me strength.

"I'm sorry, Lena."

"No, it's fine. I can do one dinner."

"It won't just be one dinner, though."

"What do you mean?"

"If my Grandfather thinks you're my girlfriend, he'll expect you to be with me. So we'll have to play the part of girlfriend and boyfriend for a while."

"Bullshit. He won't care enough."

"You don't know him as I do. He will."

"We have to fake a date?"

"Yes."

"For how long?"

"For as long as it takes for him to believe it. We'll date for a few months, then break it off."

"And if I say no?"

"Then he'll wonder why we've been so close. Which means him further digging through every inch of who you are. I don't know how good you were about covering your tracks, but my grandfather's people are better."

I knew this was the only option. His grandfather could still look into my past, but at least he'll think twice about messing with Noah's girlfriend and the second successor. If he knows Noah as I do, then he'll know that if anything happened to me because of him, Noah, without a doubt would burn this whole place to the ground.

Noah and I walked out hand and hand. We didn't let go until the valet brought the car around, and Noah opened the door for me. We drove to his house in silence.

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