#should probably use my actual journal so I have a point of reference in the future

[thinkin-bout-milgram]

Mahiru Shiina: Trial 2 Synthesis Theory

Hello everyone! For the “I Love You” drop, I’m just going to jump straight into a full-length theory because I have a LOT that I want to cover and it’s much more comprehensive than my initial thoughts posts usually are. This is partially because all four other admins helped me out, as well as our 6th roommate who isn’t an admin!

As always, I will be using the very fast translation done by @onigiriico, which is linked here! I’ll also be using @iaobug ‘s wonderful translation of Mahiru’s 16 step guide in This Is How To Be In Love With You, which I’ll put here. 

T/W: Suicide, stalking, kidnapping/abduction, toxic relationships, murder, hanging, drowning, malnourishment, force feeding a rat. There WILL be images so please read at your own discretion!

Alright, let’s jump into it!

Mahiru’s murder took place in Aokigahara, AKA the Sea of Trees, AKA the Suicide Forest.

This is based on an initial post by @tomoesan, which has since become unavailable. I’ll post a photo of it here, though:

It compares Mahiru’s murder location on her card from Undercover to a real place in Japan: Aokigahara. From the pictures, it’s very clear that this was an intentional move by the artists to place Mahiru’s murder somewhere actively recognizable through some google searches. I firmly believe that the forest that they move through in the MV is Aokigahara. 

That’s not all, though. From this image, you can pretty clearly see that the photo seems to be taken from inside a cave. We’ve determined this specific cave to be Ryugu Cave, or The Dragon Cave.

This article shows the exact same photo in the earlier post, citing it as being from the Ryugu Cave. 

The Ryugu Cave also contains the Seno Umi Shrine, within it. You can read a bit about it here, but I firmly believe this to be the shrine mentioned on Day 15 of This Is How To Be In Love With You; more on that later.

Furthermore, the shrine is to Toyotama-hime. In mythology, this references a goddess who falls in love with a prince at a water well. However, he breaks a promise not to spy on her, which results in him seeing her in a monstrous form. Given the lyrical translation of daisuki (which should just mean I love you repeatedly) in the chorus to “monstrously in love,” “monstrous cause I love you,” “monstrous dilemma”... I think that the writers absolutely knew what they were going for, and they were giving a nod to this specific story and the shrine, with Mahiru being the lover turned monster.

Based on all of this, and the fact that I do believe Mahiru’s lover committed suicide, I think that all signs point to Aokigahara, specifically Ryugu Cave, being the location of the murder. I’ll be using this assumption throughout the rest of my theory.

I’ll follow along with the guide, starting at Days 1-8.

I think that Mahiru portrays Days 1-8 approximately correctly.

Days 1-7 are, I think, completely correct. Mahiru meets this guy, assumes it’s fate, and does small things to try to get closer to him and get to know about him. At this point, things probably seem completely normal to him, so there wouldn’t be any reason for him to reject her jogging with him or whatever.

Day 8 is when she waits outside his work, takes him to the park and presumably confesses her love to him. This is where her first inconsistency is. 

She says that they talked the night away, but she also says that she “chooses not to believe they talked the night away” and that “it felt like no time passed at all.” She also very notably doesn’t actually say what his response was, though she implied it was positive.

I think that it was actually very short; rather than them talking the night away, he probably swiftly rejected her. This, therefore, ends Mahiru’s attempts to get him into a relationship normally. If he won’t love her the way she wants him to, she’ll find a way to make it happen, no matter what.

Mahiru sets a plan into action, starting Day 9.

This is the first page in her journal where the text switches from normal, pristine rows to slanted text. That’s a sign that something is going wrong.

She mentions that her “boyfriend” is really cute when he’s blackout drunk. I think that it’s possible she drugged him, but even if she didn’t, she used this to get some kind of information. It’s possible she brought him back to his house, getting his address, possibly even stealing keys or something like that. 

I’d theorize that, rather than going here together, she followed him to the bar. Once he was pretty drunk, it’d be a lot easier to convince him to go along with her.

Day 10 is her talking to her beautician; I think that’s all correct. The beautician simply heard about the story through Mahiru’s eyes.

Day 11 is, I think, similar to the bar; she probably followed him to the “date” location. She says it “can’t be a coincidence” their tastes are so similar and that she’s become a different person. That indicates that this isn’t actually a shared taste: he went to the location and she followed him there.

On Day 12, Mahiru abducts her lover.

Day 12 is the day when Mahiru goes to his house for the first time, but somehow, she can’t actually seem to remember anything.

While that alone is suspicious, there’s also the mirror. We can see her beautician in the mirror, so the fact that he isn’t in the mirror at all seems to imply that he isn’t within the camera’s view at all. Why is she in his entryway without him there to greet her?

The answer is that she’s uninvited. She enters his home, and she takes him. That’s what I think the shot of her jumping on the couch spreading the flowers in This Is How To Be In Love With You is:

Rather than this being her killing moment, I think that this is her going in and snatching him from his own house. I firmly believe that Mahiru took him to Aokigahara, and I think that this is when she did it.

The scene in the house with the feathers immediately follows Day 12, so it makes sense chronologically. Additionally, for Day 13 onwards, the text switches from just being slanted to being stitched together from smaller boxes; it seems like it’s mimicking a ransom note that’s patched together from magazine or book clippings. This indicates that this is when Mahiru is more actively committing a crime: in this case, kidnapping. 

Days 13-15 are Mahiru moving the body.

If we assume that Mahiru’s end destination is Ryugu Cave based on earlier research, Days 13, 14 and 15 can be interpreted as movement.

Day 13 may seem strange, given that it’s Mahiru seemingly attending a wedding. However, if you pay careful attention to her phrasing, she does not say that she actually attended. She says that she was invited, and that soon, her dreams will come true. I think it’s possible that the wedding location was closer to Aokigahara–it’s near Mt. Fuji, so I’d imagine there could be some scenic locations or something–and she’s mentally using the wedding as a justification for heading that direction. Maybe she even did attend, if it was over that way.

Day 14 is an outdoor date under the stars. She practically begged him to come along. This is her taking him into the woods. I’m not sure exactly how compliant he was being and if she literally dragged him or if he was in more of a “resisting seems like a bad idea” kind of headspace, but I believe that Day 14 is them arriving at the forest and entering. 

It’s notable that, in the scenes in I Love You, Mahiru seems to be leading her lover into the forest. Here’s a screenshot from around 1:37:

At this point, it doesn’t seem like he’s being forced. However, this ends with him groveling on the ground at 1:55.

Comparing that to the image immediately after, we understand that Mahiru isn’t seeing the situation clearly. Given that he’s in this kneeling position in both shots, I think it’s safe to say that the shots with the golden lighting are the situation through Mahiru’s eyes. 

He’s very clearly actually beaten down and miserable, but Mahiru depicts them as a cute and happy couple. In fact, at 1:20, the lyrics support this interpretation:

This too-perfect image of her relationship is captioned with “I actually believed that.” It’s telling us, the audience, that while she actually, genuinely believed that these fantasy segments were reality, we, perhaps, should not do the same. These fantasy segments aren’t real.

Mahiru has already proven her capability of being an unreliable narrator in the past, concealing a lot of information within the text of her 16 Day Guide. I don’t want to completely discount these fantasies, but I’m trusting the side by side comparisons it gives us that they are NOT, in any way shape or form, what she portrays them as. I don’t want to take any of it at face value.

Anyways, Day 15 is the end destination of their journey: the arrival at Ryugu Cave. This is the shrine that she mentions. 

As stated earlier, Ryugu Cave contains a shrine. Though the cave isn’t available to tourists, that just increases the chances that Mahiru could get away with imprisoning her captive there without being spotted by the patrols that go through.

For reference, this cave is very deep: 96 m, or approximately 315 ft. It would be pretty hard for him to escape once they’re there, which resounds with her wish: they’ll stay like that until the end of time, and no one will stand in her way.

Day 16 is… a snapping point.

Day 16 is when we see Mahiru prepare her lovely boyfriend a wonderful meal of all his favorites. I think that this is when the 2:13/2:14 fantasy split happens:

While she sees herself giving him cake pleasantly, in reality, she seems to be… force feeding him a rat?? 

I know some people think that the cake is a metaphor for toxicity, and that because he feeds it to her first in the video, it means that the relationship is mutually toxic. From what I’ve seen, this theory completely disregards both the rat aspect and the fantasy filter over the cake scene. I think it’s far more likely that him feeding her cake was Mahiru idealizing the real events. Maybe she ate the rats, too, and she liked to think he’d feed her, too. It’s them eating together; if the cake can be a rat, him feeding it to her can be a similarly significant misperception. 

In any case, given that this is the last day in the guide, I think that this is the end of the line for him. He can’t take being her captive anymore, and sometime when she’s not away, he commits suicide.

I’m not entirely sure how. Obviously, we see him hanging at several points in the video, most prominently at the end:

But we can also see that he appears to be soaked with water at the very beginning.

There are lakes within Ryugu Cave. They’d also likely be cold enough to give him some form of hypothermia, explaining the blue tint to his skin in the second of the two images (he seems to have dried off by the second). Because of this, I’m somewhat inclined to lean towards drowning because it seems like it would have been more accessible to him. In that case, though, I’m not sure how he ends up hanging. I don’t feel like Mahiru would put him there; it feels much more likely to me that she would jump into the lake with him so that they could be together forever or something. 

So, I’m not sure whether he hangs himself or drowns himself, but the gist is, he ends up dead. That’s what Mahiru blames herself for.

VOTE: GUILTY

I know that she’s currently leaning innocent and many people feel strongly about it, but please hear me out here.

In Mahiru’s audio drama, she very clearly does not grasp the gravity of what she did. If she really did kidnap him, bring him to the suicide forest and force feed him rats… that is NOT loving someone “normally,” as she’s so insistent that she did.

Her current perception is that when she loves someone normally, it’s wrong. That’s what she’s said about her guilty verdict. However, if we switch gears and vote her innocent, what will that tell her? 

I think it would tell her that her love is okay–and, to the delusional Mahiru, that means saying that all of what she did is okay. If she believes this is loving someone normally, then I’d rather tell her not to love anyone like this again. It’s going to be hard for her to accept, and I recognize we might lose her between trials, but I think telling her that this is okay is even worse.

I do meta vote, but I do it in the context of trying to secure as many viable innocent votes for the third trial as possible. I think that, if we vote Mahiru innocent, she’ll go back to her fully delusional self. I think guilty is the only way to make the message stick, and the message has to stick if she has a chance at getting an innocent verdict in the end. I really urge you to consider it, because I think that voting her innocent will be a huge mistake on the fanbase’s part (which is the same exact way I felt about the Kotoko vote in Trial 1).

#admin venus #milgram #ミルグラム #mahiru shiina #milgram theory #mahiru milgram #sorry it's sorta late! we were researching REAL hard #this one really messed us up #the fact that it happened in a real location that i can learn actual info about just... it feels less like fiction #listen guys i also really like mahiru #but i for real feel like some of you guys are kidding yourselves too #this wasn't a mutually toxic relationship that was both of their faults. only one of them abducted the other into the suicide forest #please at least consider the guilty vote #if we vote her inno this round then i don't think she has a shot at being releasable back into society at the end #fr yall dont understand how hard we were researching stuff we went full bonkers mode for ~2 hours researching & there was 6 of us -mercury

[fateandloveentwined]

City C, University P -- the way modern chinese names places

Alright, you may have come across such initial-based namings in books, danmei and other cnovels: City S, University P, C市 (City C), S大 (University S)

-- is it lazy translation? why aren't they giving places actual names?

A tad bit of informal history below:

When did it start?

As a person very much inexperienced in chinese historical literature, I couldn't say for sure either. But what I do know, is that it has been in writing since the 20th century (around the 1920s and after). You see renowned writers of that time like Lu Xun 鲁迅 and Zhu Ziqing 朱自清 using these initials.

(I don't have concrete examples in mind, so I'm flipping about what I have around me, and Zhu Ziqing and Lu Xun's books happen to be near me so -- let me use their works as examples of the day.)

There's this novella Lu Xun wrote, with a protagonist which he named 阿Q (read as "Ah-Q"). I also see in his short stories that he named a dog S, a side character 小D (Little D), and a city S城 (City S).

Zhu Ziqing tends to write more about realistic things that happen in his life in the form of short writings, and for that reason he uses initials way less. He did refer to a person by "Y" in one of the pieces though.

So what are they doing?

So around that time of Lu Xun (we're in the republican era) there's a movement called the May Fourth Movement, and out of the movement it spurred in the literary realm the New Culture Movement. I honestly don't want to go into the details and confuse everyone with my inexperience here, what is worth noting is that they began promoting "modern chinese" (白话 bái huà) over "classical chinese" (文言 wén yán). "Modern chinese" is the kind of chinese you read in cnovels and everywhere else nowadays.

And in this movement, they also advocated quite a lot of western ideas. This is where they proposed a complete romanisation of chinese characters, and probably to do with this, in their new modern chinese writings, they started using anglicised phrases like "City Y" and "Dog S".

All movements are controversial, their failure or success is controversial, I really don't want to get into past history so let's move on.

What they use now.

When journalling one's own experiences, important places and all that, obviously real places and names are used. Otherwise, in fiction, alphabetic initials are used in place, likely to 1. distance fiction from real life, and also I suppose nowadays 2. to avoid heated topics. For instance china may be referred to as 华国 (Huá guó), which probably makes things less sensitive and easier to handle.

again i really don't want to get into nations and stuff. let me literary-this meta out in peace.

How can I understand where means where?

It took me a while to get used to them, basically sometimes you can guess the place -- City B may be Beijing, C could be Chongqing, S could be Shanghai -- the big metropolitan cities. University T and P (or Q and B) would be Tsinghua and Peking University.

As for the other names, when they say University A or High School No. 1 it usually means the top school in the area, because (at least for high schools) that's how quite a number of schools are named. If you couldn't tell what the letter represents, it's probably a random one.

additional note: these initials are only used in modern and futuristic sci-fi novels (at least from what I've seen so far!) using letters in historical or historical fantasy ones would break the fourth wall quite a bit for me haha.

Addendum

See Guardian article linked in the comments should you be interested.

Some points of note, made up places have been used in other fiction too, to avoid trespassing geographical localities and cultures aboriginal to a group of people;

Russian novels also have used mysterious initials -- "in the town of P", this is in the 19th and 20th century -- so it may well have come from Russia instead of literature under greco-roman influence (excuse the terrible description) -- but likely it did result from the movements, that's what instigated modern chinese writing in the first place.

(yeah it's on my lack of russian classics perusal -- i'll rectify that some time.)

#danmei #chinese language #cnovel #chinese history #meta #modern au #chinese #fate's meta

[wathanism]

hi, i recently found your blog. as an ex-muslim also interested in paganism, can i just ask where you learnt about wathanism and if there are any specific resources on the pre-islamic arab gods that i could use to learn? i'm not arab, i'm pakistani, and i've looked into ancient subcontinental religion pre-islam, but i'd also like to learn about wathanism, since i've never heard of it before in my life despite actually looking up pre-islamic arabia's gods. thank you :)

hi hun 💕 sorry for taking forever to reply to this, i've not been very active on this blog for a lot of reasons right now. but regarding your question, i think my answer is gonna be super disappointing lol. resources are def very very limited, and a lot of what's available isn't translated (much of it is in arabic, but a lot is also in various now dead languages).

there is an english & arabic speaking community on reddit and discord dedicated to wathanism, which is really great and i'd highly recommend it. the discord has a section on books and articles, most of which are academic and peer reviewed in historical journals. since this is a religion that was largely wiped out and has very few people interested in studying it and few resources to even examine, learning about it is kind of a huge undertaking that involves a lot of niche academic texts and a lot of cross referencing.

it's a grind basically lol, but the discord is great because it's a place where people who are very passionate about reconstructing the religion will trudge through those sources very diligently, not just as a detached academic study but as a spiritual "i want to apply this in my own daily life" kind of way, ykwim? so that's very cool. i can't speak to the community too much, cause i mostly just use it as a reference point and don't talk much with people, but it's the most concentrated place of quality knowledge on the subject i know of.

the best crash course, easy to read article i personally know of on the matter is still this paper (if you copy the link into scihub you should have access to it), just bc it hits on the specific things i'm most interested in without being incomprehensible jargon. the way i practice my religion is probably not the most historically accurate tbh; for me, it's just about living by the values of respecting your community and heritage, and i think this paper does a great job of explaining why those were such important values to the old arab pagans. the people on the discord can def give you a better sense of what the practice looked like in Ye Olden Days.

also worth noting: if you're hoping to find like defined, clearly laid out mythology about the arabian gods like there are stories about norse or greek or roman gods, that's rly not what you're gonna find (at least not as far as ive ever known to exist). for the most part, the things you're gonna find are about what people valued, what rituals they had, and how they lived. the vast majority of info we have on the gods is like "people prayed for this goddess to bring good crops and for that god to protect the village," but rarely if ever are there detailed narratives or myths like there are for other old religions.

#asks #for me personally ive put learning abt religion on the back burner bc im more focused rn on modern day politics #which yk. given that my whole thing is about ancestors and heritage and animism and loving the land #politics is intrinsic to my religion and rly most of my spirituality is just an extra layer of caring about politics #(in the 'im a political secularist but deeply religious in my personal life' kinda way obviously)

[liminalpsych-in-teyvat]

Notes for A Matter of Duty - Chapter 17 - Like a fish to water

The patron had kissed him—hesitant at first, then sharp with yearning. Lost in the memory, Thoma drew a finger across his lower lip. Softly, gently, like the patron’s first shy fumblings. He traced his upper lip too, remembering the touch of a stranger's on his own, and wondered. Wondered about the texture of a beauty mark, and the taste of his lord's mouth.

Thoma has twenty days to get information out of a prisoner before Ayato takes over the interrogation. Twenty days to spare Ayato from losing more of himself. He throws himself into the investigation with a desperate will.

- - -

Aaand we're back! I give up on estimating how long things are going to take; I should know better by this point. However, my frantic writing deadlines are done. I was writing every spare minute for the past 2-3 months for a project that finished up in late Feb/early Mar (and went really well!) and it's finally over, so I can put my focus back on Genshin fanfic.

Any guesses as to who Thoma's patrons were? The Liyue sailor and the Liyue merchant are both actual Genshin NPCs.

This chapter was a bit of an experiment. I'm not sure if it worked or not, but I needed to get through a lot of plot points very quickly and didn't want to spend *tons of chapters* doing so.

(I might write out some of the more interesting Sakura-za scenes in a spinoff at some point. You know... this fic was originally meant to be kinky porn with some angst, and some handwaved plot in the background. Now I keep cutting out the porn because it'd bog down the plot. Siiigh.)

Back to a more traditional format next chapter. Thanks to: PancakeBeast for beta reading, and the Hidden Akasha Records discord for all the general support!

Notes and references:

Characteristics of Japanese block-printed books in the Edo period: 1603-1867: This is mostly for block-printed books, though I don't see why blank journals would be constructed any differently. (Also some nifty stuff on a particular book binder's books.)

Sugoroku: Probably dice games were more popular by this point, but board games have a certain sedateness to them that's valuable for conversation—yet I didn't want to use something too cerebral like shōgi or Go, so sugoroku it is.

My math. Conversion rates grabbed off of... some forum thread or another; fees for actors sourced from The Great Mirror of Male Love by Ihara Saikaku, a collection of m/m short stories published in 1687.

- Sleeping with apprentice actors cost 1 bu of gold (1/4 ryu of gold, about 25k yen or 170 usd) - $1 USD = 297.52 mora. So 1 bu = 50k mora - 5 ryō of silver = 66,665 yen = 455.98 usd or 423.10 euro = 135k mora for a night with a full fledged onnagata actor of no particular stardom

Studies in Kabuki: Its acting, music, and historical context - Specifically page 46 talking about dance (but I've referenced this whole piece heavily).

Summary of the fic itself with content warnings, tags, etc so you can decide if you want to read it or not before you click on the link.

A Matter of Duty

A year after the death of Ayato and Ayaka's parents, the clan succession is contested from within and without. Kamisato Ayato will do anything—_anything_—to ensure the safety of his family and the stability of his clan.

But powerful supporters come at an unimaginable price. When Ayato's own sacrifices aren't enough, he is forced to involve Thoma in a web of intrigue and exploitation that will push them to the breaking points of their bodies, their minds, and their very hearts.

or: Kushiel's Dart meets Genshin Impact in a quick-scorch-to-slow-burn romantic drama of court intrigue, sexual politics, and sacrifice.

Note: Mind the tags. More specific content warnings will be given at the beginning of each chapter, and the story tags will be updated as needed. All characters in sex scenes are adults.

Rating: Explicit. It's porn with plot. Porn as a vehicle for plot, or plot as a vehicle for porn, you can interpret it either way. (I prefer: porn and plot as a vehicle for ~feels~)

Tags that I'm not actually turning into tags here, but it gives you an idea of what you're in for: Kamisato Ayato/Thoma (Genshin Impact), dubious consent but not between Ayato and Thoma, slow burn, sex ed, first time, self-sacrifice, humiliation, exhibitionism, oral sex, anal sex, bdsm, bad bdsm etiquette, rough sex, breath play, impact play, bondage, service kink, abuse, sadism, codependency, shame, guilt, jealousy, possessiveness, trauma, ptsd, dissociation, political sex work, or sex work for political maneuvering, or political survival sex work if that’s a thing, exploitation, blackmail, political machinations, political intrigue, no aftercare, maybe someday some aftercare, hurt/comfort, mostly hurt for a long time but eventually comfort, oblivious disaster gays, for such socially savvy people they are terrible at personal relationships, dominant Ayato, submissive Thoma, top Ayato, bottom Thoma, Ayato is incredibly parentified, Thoma has no sense of self-preservation, self-sacrifice isn't a contest but don't tell Ayato and Thoma that, it's like the snipe-the-check game at restaurants but with sex and politics, Kushiel's Impact, no really this was in my drafts for the longest time as Kusheline Thomato Fic, everyone's an adult in this timeline except Ayaka, she gets protected at all costs, original characters out of necessity, finding appropriate existing Inazuma npcs for some of these roles was impossible

Full fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47604337?view_full_work=true

Chapter 17 - Like a fish to water

Thoma has twenty days to get information out of a prisoner before Ayato takes over the interrogation. Twenty days to spare Ayato from losing more of himself. He throws himself into the investigation with a desperate will.

Chapter contains: sex work, bdsm

#a matter of duty #my writing #Kamisato Ayato #kamisato ayato/thoma #thoma #ayathoma #Thomato #ayathomato #amod #amod chapter 17 #Kushiel’s impact #Wakathoma #ayato/thoma

[formulatrash]

hi hazel! i hope you’re well. i totally understand if you don’t want to answer this since i’m sure you get a lot of Working In Motorsports questions. but basically i read your post about breaking into the industry and how you should never work for free…unfortunately i’m not that smart and do, in fact, Work For Free. i’m at the point now where getting paid would be quite nice actually, so i was wondering what your advice would be on taking the next step? tl;dr experience under my belt but seeking a paid role. where do you think are the best places to look? thank you! <33

hello,

honestly, understandable, it happens to a lot of people. god knows I have done a fair amount of work for free in the past year and I should surely know better.

anyway, where to look depends really on what you're looking for. if it's specifically motorsport journalism work then it's worth reaching out to people at publications* and saying "this is my experience, I appreciate you probably have a full roster at the minute but if you ever need someone to help out, I'm really looking to take the next step. include some links to your work, say what you're really interested in covering and what you can cover in a broader way and if you're available for travel.

be polite and keen and show that you understand the publication you are writing to, reference stories they already have that are the sort of thing you would like to write. if you don't hear back, email them again in a few months, persistence has weirdly paid off for a bunch of people I know; make sure you're bringing new ideas and talking about new things, saying "I know it wasn't last time but just wanted to say I'm still interested."

there are then broader industry publications where you might get commissions or where you can pitch motorsport stories. JournoResources does a newsletter every week which includes freelance pitching opportunities, all of which are paid.

if it's not journalism then start chatting to and getting in touch with people in the area you want to work. if it's social media then follow agency accounts, look out for chances where people are asking for people. speculatively getting in touch with individuals on their personal accounts isn't ccol but look out for the agencies and places like Pace Six Four, which is a huge agency, have a page to submit a speculative application in case you don't fit their roles at the moment but they might have something in future.

don't shoot over the sun by emailing Ferrari to ask if they've got any social jobs going - clearly, if they did, they'd advertise them - but it's worth asking eg: junior teams if they need any extra coverage during what's about to be a very frantic part of the season with every series racing simultaneously in Europe for weeks on end. showing you understand motorsport doesn't begin and end with F1 goes a long way.

LinkedIn is a hole and I have absolute no idea how Gen Z use it with a straight face (you guys, what the hell is this 'weekly update on my goals' business come on, millennials might be cringe but not that way) but it can be useful to follow team PRs and be able to pick up on opportunities. it's also worth following companies you want to work at, to get job alerts - check the parent companies of magazines or agencies and keep an eye out.

overall: good luck. it is incredibly rough out here at the moment and there is little to no work. I don't say that to discourage you, I say that cus if it's a struggle for you it's not because you're useless it's because everyone is struggling.

*By this I mean paying ones. of which there are astoundingly few. Autosport, Motorsport.com, Top Gear, CAR, Motor Sport Magazine and RaceFans are the only ones I can verify/vouch for are paying legal wages that are motorsport-specific in the UK - do not accept ultra-low-paid work, I've heard one publication pays £50 for a weekend of coverage which is about an eighth of minimum wage. £100 per day is still below minimum wage a lot of the time but a semi-depressing benchmark of where things are broadly at, unless you happen to have hit the big bucks (this is what I get paid). do not participate in having your labour abused, anyone doing that is not going to help you in your career.

in Europe, AutoHebdo and AmuS pay but I'm not sure much beyond that, in the US then Jalopnik, The Drive, ESPN, Road & Track, ARSTechnica etc all pay but have relatively few, if any, motorsport commissions because they tend to go to staff writers - if you can come with a unique or grassroots story though, they will pay attention. Motor1 has also just been sold so may start commissioning again soon but there's some flux going on there. I don't know if The Athletic accept motorsport pitches.

#work asks

[gabriel-gabdiel]

Fantasy of Evolution Chapter 5: Press Ctrl-Z to Undo

If only it were as easy as pressing Ctrl + Z in order to undo the mistakes you’ve done in your life.

At any rate, Florante is about to deal with his personal Judas Iscariot. His former best friend, Isaiah. 

You can also find more chapters of my original fiction here. Please enjoy.

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Back in Fatima High, after Florante Galang dreamed another one of his strange dreams…

In his latest dream, Florante "stalked" his classmate's apartment then they fought as a pair against a shadow monster at Makati's Guadalupe Church.

In the end, although he wasn't hero material even in his daydreams (or night dreams), he still managed to find a way to do something that he could be proud of.

He stopped Mammon's Minion and undid that reality where multiple innocents died, thus saving their lives all at once.

Or maybe he didn't and it was all in his imagination.

Florante Galang shut his eyes and exhaled. Whoopty-doo. He did something heroic in his dreams. The thought made him cringe.

Still, even if it was a dream, the feelings he felt for the dream version of Jenny still made his knees weak. It all felt so real.

If only reality could evolve and match his fantasy. Alas, reality killed such whimsical notions faster than it helped him defeat the immortal crawling chaos.

But it wasn't real. It was all just a dream. It didn't really happen.

Had he really been traumatized by his bullies to the point where he used his fantasies and daydreams to cope with his daily reality of social suicide? Yeah, probably.

If only his dreams were real, then he would've asked Jenny out for a date by now. No, no. He meant he would've asked her more about Mammon.

What was that American(?) white man foreigner's deal anyway? Why'd he sic his Minion at them?

Oh, right. Jenny.

He pressed his fingers on his forehead, remembering that imagined kiss from the bespectacled beauty that was Jennifer Tolentino. The girl next door.

He let out another deep sigh. He really did have it bad for her now, didn't he?

However, he had to remind himself of the obvious. The dream version of Jenny was nothing like the real-life version of her. They hadn't interacted that way at all.

No more stalking of her. Get rid of that photocopy of her number in the yellow pages and that girl that had the same name as her from that yearbook from the 1960s or whatever.

The Mammon from his dream was right about one thing, though. Florante did act like a creep by tracking down Jenny's phone number and address from the phonebook instead of asking her about it like a normal person.

What was he thinking?

Still, once he could write and draw these ideas into an actual novel or comic book though, then that could make his strange dreams worth his while. They were compiled inside his dream journal already. So maybe.

Regardless, he woke up from the… third(?) strange dream/nightmare he'd had as of late. 'I think.'

Once again, the reset button had been pushed. Or the shortcut to "Undo" your last change on the document, "Ctrl + Z" (pushing the "Control" key and the "Z" key on the keyboard at the same time).

So everything went back to normal. No harm, no foul, right?

Still, he should really grow up by now. Abandon his idle, childish thoughts and turn his life around for real.

Soon, it'd be his fifteenth birthday.

He had no girlfriend on sight, no social life to speak of, barely any friends, but life went on, right? Right.

***

Fantasy of Evolution

An Urban Fantasy Story by Abdiel

When you press Ctrl + Z on your Windows machine, you could undo the last action you've done.

Disclaimer: This work may reference copyrighted material, the use of which has not always been specifically authorized by the copyright owner. It is believed that this constitutes a fair use of any such copyrighted material as provided for in Section 107 of the US Copyright Law. All copyrighted material referred to in this work belongs to their respective owners. All rights reserved.

***

Chapter 5: Press Ctrl-Z to Undo

***

It was around dismissal time again, and Florante had time to kill before his school jeepney service came around to pick him up.

He spotted his acquaintances, the Dead Kids, from a distance walking the opposite way as him.

Florante couldn't tell because they usually wore the same uniforms, but whenever it was Casual Fridays at Fatima (when the students were allowed to wear casualwear instead of their daily uniforms), the Dead Kids wore clothes that subtly hinted of designer origins.

By the way, the Fatima High uniform for boys was brown khaki pants, a button-down white collared dress shirt with short sleeves, ankle-high socks, and black leather shoes.

For girls, it was a white blouse with a collar, sash, tie, and pleated knee-high skirt bearing the same checkerboard black-and-white pattern as well as ankle-high socks and black dress shoes.

Not that the "fashion senseless" Florante was any authority on the subject or anything. Sometimes, even on Fridays, he kept wearing his school uniform composed of the button-down polo shirt and long khaki pants with black leather shoes over black socks.

He also had a backpack full of his school books, notebooks, pencils, and ballpoint pens. Like the nerd that he was. However, even he with his bad taste in clothes could tell the Dead Kids were dressed to the nines that matched their remarkably good looks.

Then again, their mesmerizing faces looked so dashing they could've worn dishrags and pulled it off. Nevertheless, it seemed rather appropriate they'd have both money and looks.

The fact that they were unable to mix with the rest of the student body like Florante did somewhat boggled his mind, though. Many of their "haters" called them pompous pretenders at best or braggadocious snobs at worst.

They were mostly called weirdoes, to be honest.

On one hand, their richness didn't afford them any acceptance in Fatima High. Like celebrities being bullied in college by their jealous classmates because they exuded an aura of superiority that rubbed them all the wrong way.

On the other hand, Florante didn't fully believe that the lack of acceptance was circumstantial. The way their group acted indicated that they desired isolation. He just couldn't imagine how any door could remain closed by their halo of beauty.

Meanwhile, although the group of Alonzo Estanislao, Kalantiaw and Dalisay Hidalgo, Jacob Benjamin, and Francisco Celestino did wave back at himwhen they spotted him (though it was mostly Lonzo and Dalisay who did the waving), he himself opted to go alone to the nearby walking-distance mall.

Nirvana Plaza wasn't far from Fatima High. Just walk from one of the rear exits of the school towards the rear entrance near the local Nationwide Bookstore branch and you're good to go.

He felt relaxed going there even though he barely had any money himself to buy anything there, whether it was comic books or food.

He had no allowance to speak of and he had packed lunches more often than not inside recycled ice cream containers turned into makeshift lunchboxes.

He wasn't poor or anything, it was just that he wasn't rich either and private school tuition was expensive.

It was fine. He loved window shopping on an empty stomach. Well, not really, but the mall did serve as his safe haven from his droll and friendless school existence.

He remembered when he first ventured alone into the mall instead of going straight home from his school service. Trips to the mall for his family used to be special events. They had to go to all the way from Pasig to Cubao to eat out, get groceries, or watch a movie.

Now, he could hang out in places like arcades or peek at a few pages of comic books at bookstores to his heart's content instead of staring blankly at a wall, waiting for the school service to pick him up and take him home. Daydreaming of adventures with the Ninja Turtles or the X-Men.

If he could get extra money from his parents, like spare change from buying art supplies or home economics requirements, he could give himself the occasional mall treat.

An ice cream cone here. A doughnut there. Maybe even some supermarket turon (caramelized fried banana rapped in spring roll wrapper).

Or maybe a few rounds of the latest iteration of Street Fighter, with him usually succumbing to the third character during a one-player game. He sucked at versus mode since he couldn't practice at the arcades for too long.

This was what a friendless dork like him had to look forward to, honestly.

Maybe one day, once he had a job and his own money, he'd have a fun-filled day buying comic books, playing games at the arcade, or going to the movies in his lonesome. However, as a student with barely any allowance, this setup wasn't bad at all.

It sounded depressing, but only if he had to share his experiences with anyone else. He actually loved going to Nirvana Shopping Plaza in his lonesome.

However, today, he couldn't shake the feeling that someone kept an eye over him, which made him feel paranoid.

Did his bullies spot him again, like the last time? That one asshole with his girlfriend clinging unto him once smugly asked him if he was on a date after spotting him walking alone near the food court. What a bastard.

He couldn't spot any of his usual tormentors right now though, who had opted nowadays to go with the more passive-aggressive approach to bullying him.

After a few more minutes of being a listless mallrat, he went back to the parking lot and spotted his ride back home, which was his designated school service jeepney.

***

On the eastern border of Metro Manila, the highly urbanized city of Pasig City existed under the cover of smog clouds and the infamously polluted Pasig River, which it shared its name with.

To its south, it was bordered by the cosmopolitan center of Makati. To its north was Marikina. To its west was Mandaluyong and Quezon City (where Fatima High was). To its east were the municipalities of Taytay and Cainta in the Rizal Province.

Pasig was also known for its raging floods during typhoon season, by which it could've gotten its name from. The city had floods that were "Mapagsik" or "Mabagsik" (in English, it meant "Raging", "Fierce", or "Aggressive") which eventually evolved into "Pagsik" or "Pasig".

Usually, the private jeepney service fetched Florante and a couple of others from their private school so they could go home safe and sound on behalf of all their parents, who paid them a monthly fee for the convenience.

However, the jeepney's open-air windows also gave them to get a good whiff of Metro Manila pollution for good measure.

Florante covered his mouth with a handkerchief. No point in getting sick and triggering his asthma again.

The sky remained hazy, its blueness sporting an ashen tinge to it as though muted by the city smog. The wind in his face thankfully disappeared as they went to a standstill.

The classic late afternoon traffic jam in the metro. Only the Bangkok Jam could rival its ubiquitousness in Metro Manila.

His new school was about 4 miles or about an hour away from his home in Pasig City. His former school, which only offered classes up until Grade 6, was instead 13 minutes away or about a mile away.

Thusly, it felt like it took the jeep forever to get him home.

As they sluggish traffic wore on, Florante's mind started wandering.

His mother was the typical strict Filipina mother. Domineering, almost. He could never talk to her about anything. Their relationship was complicated. She wasn't the hugging or healing type of mother. She kind of scared him most of the time, actually.

Sure, she perhaps had her own things to worry about, like how he kept on hearing about her own domineering mother-in-law—his grandmother from his father's side—but he dreaded her wrath as much as she detested his grandma.

His mother also for the most part looked like her sisters or his aunts... of course... while Florante himself looked like one of his cousins or uncles when they were younger. They all shared the same almond skin, black hair, and sharp, dark brown eyes.

She was in stark contrast of his father, her husband, who looked somewhat like he was of Chinese or Japanese (East Asian) descent but was actually a Filipino himself. As strict and boisterous as she was, his father was the exact opposite.

A relaxed and chill engineer who tinkered a lot around the house, doing quick fixes from their pipes to their ceiling to save them thousands of pesos from having plumbers and electricians do their work for them.

By the time the jeepney school service arrived at his home, there was a drizzle of rain. It soon became a downpour when he got inside the house. Just in time.

It was already June, after all. Rainy season. Also, the month of Florante's birthday.

He'd have another birthday spent with his family. He had no friends to invite over the house for dinner. No parties with his compatriots drinking beer either. He never even tried beer.

He had heard that taking in too much alcohol could compromise his breathing as an asthmatic. Not that he'd ever tried.

Besides, he was a minor. Even though he had heard of several of his classmates drinking a bit of the bubbly themselves.

He was used to having a simple feast of spaghetti and a liter of Coca-Cola as his only birthday splurge. Tuition for his private school was expensive and in the Philippines, the school year started in June.

So his birthday had to be as simple as possible during tuition month, which was also his birthday month.

***

After Florante got home to the Galang Residence in Pasig, he went straight to the television set to catch the tail-end of whichever anime was airing in the afternoon.

He hated how as a kid, when "Thundercats" was a big deal, he always ended up seeing the end credits whenever he tried catching it on TV.

Ditto with "Rainbow Brite".

When he finished with that attempt at entertaining himself, he took his bag and went to his room.

Before doing his homework, he changed into a shirt and baggy shorts as popularized by the G.O.A.T. (Greatest of All Time) of 1990s basketball, Michael Jordan. He also read a bit of "Paradise Lost" by 17th Century English poet John Milton for good measure.

And when that gave him a headache, what with his short attention span and the hard-to-read long-form poetry, he had the Cliffnotes version help him summarize and analyze each passage.

At the back of his mind, he chided himself to do as much effort on his math homework as he did with his "extracurricular reading" of this book for the sake of creating his own comic book story.

Nevertheless, while he was wandering around the mall earlier, alone in his thoughts, he thought about Mammon's intentions in his dreams.

As a demon, he obviously tried to tempt him to go all out and transform into an Ophanim, perhaps to the point of becoming a fallen angel and turning into a Minion.

However, for what purpose? To add him to their demon horde? Their "Pandemonium"? What were they trying to achieve, awakening Ophanims and corrupting them to become Minions?

The thought kind of excited him a little bit. He'd been struggling to come up with a plot for his comic book or original story, only for his strange dreams full of his male power fantasies and coping mechanisms to hand him such a plot on a silver platter.

He should really make more detailed accounts of his dreams in his dream journal from now on.

While also making sure never to allow his classmates, especially his mostly male bullies, to know he was keeping a dream journal like a 6-year-old girl still having tea parties with her dollies.

The rest of the afternoon and evening became a blur.

His Dad got home after fetching his two elder sisters from college at the University of Sto. Tomas. Then it was dinnertime. They ate his Mom's specialty of pork adobo (meat simmered in a mixture of garlic, soy sauce, and vinegar).

He couldn't bring up the fact that he was getting bullied at school to his parents, which apparently was typical of bullied kids.

No one wanted to be a victim of bullying or admit to being one.

What would they do to help fix it anyway? Knowing his Mom, she might even blame him for the bullying, bringing up that he was a disrespectful child.

His Mom, bless her heart, was such as stereotypical strict Asian parent. He was also petrified of her more often than not—more than his bullies—particularly when he came home with bad grades.

He didn't get beat up for them or anything, but he did get an earful of lectures from her. The beatings came when he answered back or "disrespected" her somehow, as she put it.

She had quite the fiery temper. Her arsenal of weapons included tsinelas (flip-flops), the nearest wooden spoon, a walis tingting (broom made from the thin midribs of palm leaves), or a walis tambo (broom made from the flower stalks of Tiger grass).

Had he mentioned that he had a complicated relationship with his mother? Because he did. Confessing to her that he was being bullied was the last thing on his mind.

She might somehow make it about him disrespecting her or something. No way did he want to trigger that ass-whupping if he could help it.

In contrast, Dad was more of a congenial fellow. The good cop to his Mom's bad cop. He never hit him and Florante couldn't remember the last time his father became angry or lashed out at him.

He could have heart-to-heart talks with him. It was much easier with him than with his contentious Mom that reminded him more of Cinderella's Stepmother whenever she got into one of her "moods".

However, he also couldn't outright confess to him about the bullying. It was too embarrassing. Shameful. Like he was too old to still not have friends or to still get teased by the boys in his class.

He did mention to him about having to deal with the jerks in class though. So he subtly told him about the bullying without telling him he was being bullied. If that made sense.

***

After dinner at the Galang Residence…

Once everyone in the family settled down and went their separate ways, with his parents going to their room, one sister going to the TV, and another sister going to the phone, Florante planned his approach to his father carefully.

After chancing upon Dad going to the kitchen to fetch a container of cold water to drink, Florante asked his question.

No, not about bullying. It was about the Dead Kids.

"Dad, do you know anyone named Celestino in Pasig? Or Hidalgo…?"

His father blinked at that. "Can't say that I have. I don't even have coworkers named like that. Hidalgo is the national artist, right?"

By the way, Florante's father was a mechanical engineer who worked at a factory for a multinational company. And he meant "Felix Hidalgo" by national Filipino artist and painter.

"How about Benjamin? Estanislao?" Florante pressed. "Back in Makati, did we know of any Tolentinos?"

"Whoa, whoa. Settle down there, kid."

Dad scratched his the freshly shaved stubble that would've formed into a beard.

"I might've had a classmate named Benjamin, but that's his first name. I've heard of Father Estanislao who marched with Jose Rizal during his final walk before his execution. There are too many Tolentinos around to say that I know the same Tolentinos you know."

Florante sighed then smiled. "Thanks, Dad." His father always obliged or humored even the silliest of his questions. He answered them the best he could. 'He really is the best.'

"Why are you asking me this? Are they the names of your friends or something?"

The son awkwardly laughed. "Yeah, something like that."

Dad ruffled Florante's head. "That's good. Make more friends in school, son."

The heartwarming exchange made Florante divulge something he normally wouldn't. "They… the kids… they're a little different. They don't seem to fit in at school." Unsaid, he added, 'Like I do.'

His Dad pulled a seat and sat with him, setting aside the cold water bottle he fetched from the refrigerator for now.

"Did I ever tell you about how your cousin punched a kid who was messing with him at Fatima? He got suspended and the school faculty even called your uncle to the principal's office. But the kid never messed with him ever again."

'If only I had the guts to do that,' Florante thought. He said, "I don't think they'll ever fight back or anything, but it's messed up that they don't fit in. They did nothing wrong. Who cares if they're a little weird?"

Dad nodded. "When it comes to bullies, it's best that you show them who's boss from the start. The more you let them get to you the more they'll mess with you."

Florante then realized his father was subtly giving advice for his own bullying after bringing up his friends.

However, he was so pathetic he could only dream of blasting his bullies to kingdom come, which was even more messed up. Now that he had considered the consequences of such actions, he'd rather just embarrass them a little bit. Like his cousin did to his bully.

Punch them once to have them leave you alone for good. Or even pull a prank. No need to kill them or anything!

Good thing it was all just a dream. Once it ended, he faced no consequences for his actions. Or so he kept telling himself.

Like he'd just hit the reset button on his game console to go back to the main menu or the first level. Or hit the Ctrl + Z shortcut on the family's personal computer, undoing his mistakes on the MS Word document or MS Paint bitmap.

If only he could hit "Undo" all the way to the first day of his freshman year at Fatima, then that would be peachy. Alas, reality didn't work that way.

Backpedaling a bit while also denying he was being bullied, Florante said, "Those guys seemed nice enough to me. I just noticed they kept to themselves more often than not. Some of them are my classmates in the Art Club, even."

"So they act just like you, huh?" said Florante's father. "You also keep to yourself a lot. Which is perfectly fine, son. It's a good thing you've found friends who match your personality, Florante."

"Yeah, I guess, Dad. Birds of a feather, am I right?" he said, now wishing to change the subject.

They lapsed into silence before Dad got up, grabbed his water bottle, and said to him, "Good night, son."

He in turn said, "Good night, Dad."

After a little while, Florante himself got up from his seat and went to the TV to watch whatever it was his sister was watching.

He was already sleepy by the time he started on his math homework, which he considered finishing while traveling to school on his school service jeepney.

***

The rest of the week proved uneventful. No new fucked-up dreams about him murdering classmates or battling eldritch abominations with his newest crush, Jenny Tolentino.

No Mammon. No Minions. No Ophanims. Just… vibes. These alien concepts all started fading in his subconscious like dreams and nightmares were supposed to.

He got used to the routine of his classes and being at least civil around classmates that tolerated him at best while whispering devilish rumors about him behind his back.

Oh well. He did promise the Jenny from his dreams to forget all about the angel and demon nonsense to live out his normal life.

However, try as he might, he couldn't forget those fever dreams where he moved as swiftly as the wind and destroyed everything in his path like a U.S. missile strike.

In reality, during P.E. (Physical Education) class, the classmates he got paired up with learned not to pass him the basketball and to step quickly in front of him if the other team attempted to exploit his unathletic asthmatic self as their weakest link.

Florante did his best to get out of their way or serve as an extra body to clog passing lanes when he wasn't being benched for other, more skilful basketball players.

However, he noticed something was amiss.

Jennifer Tolentino hadn't come back to school since the last time he got into contact with her.

It had been a week since he last talked to Jenny. On the phone in real life and at Guadalupe Church in his dreams. Or did both things happen in his dreams?

Every day, he watched anxiously for any sign of her. The hawk-sized butterflies at the pit of his stomach made him wonder if she wasn't able to revive from her untimely demise in his last dream.

Only for him to mentally slap himself and chide that his daydreams or nighttime dreams had no effect on reality. Jenny was probably absent for some other reason.

He'd been hanging out with the Dead Kids again lately, acting as their gopher. Nevertheless, he couldn't get Jenny out of his mind. How could he? She was gone!

It'd be much easier for him to follow her advice and forget about this Ophanim business had she continued going to Fatima High and acting normal herself.

Then he could at least pretend that his psychotic massacre of his classmates and failed attempts at heroism against fallen angels or demons hadn't really happened.

In English class—as headed by the no-nonsense Mr. Benigno "Noy" Borabo—Florante took his accustomed seat at the back of the class, near the windows overlooking the streets outside.

They got a pop quiz on English grammar involving Subject, Predicate, Object of the Preposition, and so forth, which only made him wish they'd do more required reading.

He'd at least watched the film/TV/animated versions of "Tom Sawyer", "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn", "The Odyssey", "To Kill a Mockingbird", "The Great Gatsby", "Lord of the Flies", "Animal Farm", or "Of Mice and Men".

Or read the CliffsNotes versions of such and many other classics. Reviewing grammar rules was as boring as reading the phone book.

Regardless, he felt more comfortable with school lately than ever before.

He had reached some sort of closure or homeostasis (thanks, Ms. Del Mundo's Biology Class) with his nightmares involving classmate murder and choosing between becoming an angel or a demon.

Ha. Closure. He sounded like the family of a missing person that finally found out the grisly fate of their beloved.

In regards to his real-life bullying situation, he had instead reached ennui (thanks, Webster's Dictionary). A feeling of listlessness and dissatisfaction arising from a lack of occupation or excitement.

Maybe it was this lack of catharsis and boredom—from the impasse he and his bullies had reached since he decided to bite the bullet and snitch on them—that led him to dream such horrid dreams.

By Friday, he wondered about whether or not he should give Jenny a call. He had her number for real, after all.

For all he knew, she had already dropped out of school.

He tried not thinking about the nerdy girl, but he couldn't completely suppress his anxiousness that he'd been somehow responsible for her absence, as absurd of a thought as that was.

Florante Galang slept a dreamless sleep over the weekend due to the soft June rain and even softer thoughts of the bespectacled Jenny.

He might've finished his weekend homework by then but he neglected to read up on Social Studies, leading him to cram at the last minute for the upcoming quiz while riding his jeepney service to school that fateful Monday.

It felt a bit nippy outside so early in the morning at 7:30 AM or so, before the school assembly started.

He got cursory acknowledgements of his existence from several classmates by Monday morning, after getting off his school service ride and making a beeline towards his classroom.

He also dealt with small talk on whether or not he was able to finish the homework before they proceeded to talk to their own actual friends and ignore him in his lonesome.

The morning was cold but at least it wasn't raining. The school assembly proved uneventful. Still no sign of Jennifer though. Was she absent again?

The different classes then headed to back to their respective classrooms in order to proceed with the first subject of the day.

***

Another day, another boring class.

Florante had Araling Panlipunan (Social Studies) for today, as covered by Mr. Neil Nepumoceno. Neil was the jokey type of teacher with a strange goofy charisma to him whose signature outburst was "Aye Caramba!"

Yeah, like Bart Simpson's catchphrase from The Simpsons. Quite the character. Mr. Nepumoceno encouraged debate and rapport with his students during every topic he covered, from the Philippine Revolution against Spain to World War II.

Florante's blood ran cold as he remembered something.

Neil was the teacher that got in his way during his dream massacre of his classmates from First Year St. Francis.

Oh yeah. Galang had turned Mr. Nepumoceno into a splatter on the wall. Like something out of a horror B-movie. Or a Mortal Kombat "Fatality".

He pushed such dark thoughts deep into his subconscious mind. He promised the dream version of Jenny that he'd forget about that dream. Or all his dreams since then. So he would.

With that said, a certain someone—a classmate of his—still didn't give him the time of day. Not that any of them did, but this particular one hurt him the most when it happened.

Galang still felt awkward being around Laura Reyes, but that was to be expected.

His first high school crush remained upset about that "nude drawing" incident when he didn't actually draw her nude! He was using a rough sketch and shapes to construct her body before adding details and clothes, dammit!

He had hoped he wasn't as subconsciously psychotic as he suspected he was, what with him dreaming about killing Laura (albeit in a moment of duress) just because she didn't return his affection and all.

For weeks since the incident, they avoided each other like the plague even though they were classmates. It even got to the point where Florante could've sworn Laura got bothered by him avoiding her before she could avoid him.

Yes, it was ridiculous, not to mention egotistical, to think that he could affect anyone that strongly. It was impossible, even. And yet he couldn't stop worrying that it was true. At the time, anyway.

That little twinge of annoyance from her gave him a small spark of hope that he still occupied Laura's mind somehow, even in the form of a pest.

Better that than be ignored altogether.

However, now Laura was but an afterthought compared to the glasses-wearing girl in Florante's literal dreams.

Florante held his breath at the door, peering here and there of any sign of Jennifer Tolentino, but it seemed she wasn't around. He exhaled and went to his seat.

Jenny then followed him from behind, talking about yearbooks and phone calls or something.

Wait a minute.

"Jenny?" he blurted out.

"Flor!" she said in return. "Oops, you told me to not call you that! Sorry!"

"No, it's all right. I don't mind," he reassured. "What was that about phone books?"

"Oh, I was just askin' why you called me from my house last time," she said with the sweetest smile as she brushed a single lock of hair from her face.

He gulped and explained himself, saying he found it interesting that he found another Jennifer Tolentino in an older Fatima High yearbook, stuttering all the while.

At the back of his mind, he told himself to calm down. This wasn't unusual. Jennifer had talked to him before. She didn't cut all communication from him like Laura did. She'd always been friendly to everyone.

She wasn't friendly beyond logic like the dream version of her that invited him into her apartment after finding out he essentially stalked her though.

Still, he couldn't remember one person where she had beef or drama with in their class.

She lingered by his desk till the bell rang, which left his heart aflutter. She then went to sit by her actual seat while Mr. Nepumoceno finally arrived to start the class.

He considered hanging out with Jenny some more but thought the better of it.

This wasn't the Manic Pixie Dream Girl Jenny. Even a nice girl like the real Jenny might lack tact to let him down gently if ever he became one of those overly friendly boys that hung around the girls a bit too much.

However, as class began, Florante realized he had another problem in his hands.

He couldn't stop staring at Jenny. He tried to be slick about it too, but he knew she knew he was watching her. This made him overcompensate and avoid gazing at her ever for fear for him creeping her out.

What was wrong with him? Dammit. He pulled the same thing the first time Laura rejected him over that misunderstanding with the drawing. With him not staring at her and all. Or ignoring her beyond reason.

Susmaryosep. He wouldn't be surprised if Jenny started avoiding him too.

Anyway, he should pay more attention to class. They were covering the Martial Law years or something. He hoped he crammed about the right topic for the quiz later.

The good news was that Jenny, the real Jenny, had begun talking to him more, like she used to before his unfortunate falling out with her group due to Laura thinking he was a creep.

The bad news, if it could be considered bad news, was that he kind of missed having memorable dreams and fighting against nightmarish monsters beyond human comprehension.

He could deal with those dreams better than his awkward reality of teenage infatuation.

***

Much later, during lunchtime…

As Florante walked out of class along with the rest of his classmates as the lunch bell rang, the air glistened with a light rain. The cold wind bit at his nose. His cheeks.

A light sprinkle fell from hesitantly overcast skies that still shone of daylight. Silvery slivers of water reflected bits of rainbow sunshine as a result.

Dammit. He should've brought an umbrella with him but he forgot again.

Meanwhile, his head got lost in those clouds, wondering how to best approach Jennifer while a part of him screamed at himself to stop making a fool of himself over his newest crush.

Sometimes, discretion was the better part of valor. Sometimes, the only way to win the game was not to play.

"I'll see you at lunch, okay?" Florante heard someone from behind him say, which he soon realized was Alonzo Estanislao. Huh.

Florante smiled and began to nod, but he then hesitated and said, "We'll see. I might skip lunch."

Lonzo kept walking as he spoke. "Sure. No prob. Still waiting for your girlfriend to get back?" he teased.

"Shut up. She's not my girlfriend. Stop being weird," Florante hissed at Lonzo, looking around him for any sign of his classmates. They might overhear and spread rumors again about his crush, just like with Laura.

"Okay, okay. I'm just kidding," reassured Alonzo. "So did anything good happen? You're smiling more."

Gah. Was he that obvious?

"She's back already," Galang murmured it so softly it sounded like an afterthought, hoping Lonzo would miss what he'd say, only for him to cringe when he heard, "Congrats, man."

The drizzle became a squall, and Florante's mood became as soggy as a wet sock The more it rained the soggier it got and the worse his unease grew.

He considered locking himself in the library again on an empty stomach instead of eating with the so-called Dead Kids like the social outcast that they were.

He checked his wallet. He had enough spare change for a soda, at least. And maybe a bag of chips.

He entered the cafeteria, which was on a basement level of a building separate from their high school building. The grade school and high school buildings shared the same cafeteria.

The sun flooded daylight inside the cafeteria basement through a series of chain-link fences that served as the wall that separated the area from the nearby park and the grassy soccer field.

The soft squall made the grass glisten in the sun. During downpours, whole islands were formed on the field amidst the flood of puddles, mud, and sludge. Like a miniature archipelago.

Florante scanned for the Dead Kids' table in the corner of the cafeteria out of habit. Then he froze where he stood.

There were six people at the table now. Excluding Florante, because he hadn't reached there yet.

Huh. Six people.

The usual five were there: Alonzo "Lonzo" Estanislao, Kalantiaw "Kal" Hidalgo and his sister Dalisay, Jacob "Benjo" Benjamin, and Francisco "Kiko" Celestino.

The sixth one was a familiar face, though. It was Jennifer "Jenny" Tolentino.

Florante took out his asthma inhaler and took a puff as soon as he started making those familiar wheezing sounds.

***

Alonzo Estanislao called after Florante Galang after spotting him.

"Yo, Flor!" Lonzo said, which made "Flor" wince. "What are you standing around for? Come over here!"

As Florante did just that, he wondered what was Jenny doing over there.

She'd finally got to school after a week of being absent, but what was she doing with the Dead Kids' table?

Galang looked down and away from the table as soon as Jenny stared at his direction. His ears felt hot. He told himself he had no reason to feel self-conscious. It wasn't as if he did anything wrong, after all.

"What's with Florante?" Florante heard Dalisay ask, which made him finally pick up his pace towards the table before he embarrassed himself any further in front of the one group in the school that hung out with him.

The dainty Dalisay asked once he got there, "You okay, Florante? Do you need to go to the clinic or something?"

Benjo sniggered and needled, "Maybe he's constipated. He needs to take a massive dump!" which prompted Lonzo to smack him upside the head while in the background, Kal harrumphed and called them both idiots.

"You're so gross, Benjo," admonished Dalisay.

He felt his body jolt when he heard Jenny ask, "It's not your asthma acting up, is it?"

Galang reassured her that it wasn't the case, revealing his handy inhaler in his pocket. "Not asthma." He shook his head vigorously. "I'm fine," he reassured, scratching the back of his head. His wheezy breathing belying his reassurances.  

Once his eyes met with Jennifer, he muttered, "H-Hey. Fancy meeting you here."

Jenny smiled and brushed her hair back from her face. "Likewise, Flor. I'm back, I guess?"

Florante smiled in spite of himself. Laughing nervously, he changed the suhject. "I think I'll get a soda today. Any of you need anything?"

"Just soda?" asked Jenny. "It's lunch, not recess. Eat something."

"Aren't you hungry, Florante?" chimed in Dalisay.

"Actually, maybe I do feel a little sick," Florante said, looking at the floor and his dirty shoes. "Um. I mean, I don't have an appetite right now."

Lonzo, who now looked scuffed up from his roughhousing with Benjo, grabbed Florante by the shoulders and sat him down the bench of the lunch table. "Then sit this one out. I'll fetch everyone their lunch and buy your soda."

Florante gulped and nodded his thanks while handing the money to Lonzo, who elected to be the group's gopher for today.

Jacob and Kalantiaw also volunteered to come with him to help out holding the lunch trays.

***

Florante waited for the trio to get their food along with the usually studious Kiko, the wallflower Goth Queen Dalisay, and, well, his classmate Jenny, whom he ended up sitting beside with thanks to Lonzo's prompting.

Damn that Lonzo.

He had nowhere to look and he somehow didn't feel like talking at length to Jenny right now.

Also, when he looked up across the table, he ended up staring at a stern-looking Celestino who looked more like a teacher or a college student than someone from high school.

The studious Kiko barely talked at all, even though he was viewed by the rest of the school campus as the leader of the Dead Kids.

His batch's likeliest Valedictorian or even Salutatorian was this socially awkward nerd. Who knew?

Francisco hadn't even gone to college yet and Florante could already swear he'd become the Summa Cum Laude, if not at least the Magna Cum Laude of his year of college graduates with ease. He just exuded that kind of academically superior aura.

"What is it?" asked Kiko, his eyes meeting with Florante's as he looked up from what he was reading (Advanced Calculus).

"HUH? Oh, nothing!" said Florante. The last thing he wanted was small talk with Mr. Battle of the Brains himself. "Sorry for staring."

For a student supposedly only 3 years older than him, Celestino gave Galang the vibes of a someone much older. Like a college professor. Or a CEO. Or a high-priced attorney. Any full-grown adult with loads of money, power, worldly experience, or influence.

With a raised eyebrow, Celestino returned to his book and commented, "Take the hint, kid."

'Take the hint…?' Florante thought, only for him to realize that Alonzo probably already talked to Francisco to about him and Jenny.

Dammit, you guys. It wasn't that serious! He didn't even remember telling any of them about his feelings for Jenny either! How'd they figure things out?

Minutes later, he got his soda, which he sipped slowly. Or maybe he should sip it faster so that he could excuse himself and leave.

He could even play his asthma up and escape to the clinic for the next hour.

However, he told himself to get a hold of, well, himself. Why should he run away?

To make way for their lunch trays and lunches, Florante took the opportunity to move away and give room to the rest of the Dead Kids, with him sitting on a separate table with his soda.

Eventually, he decided to permit himself to glance beside him. If Jenny glared at him for staring, he'd have the resolve to go to the nurse's office and skip class for the rest of the afternoon.

Or complain about the upset stomach he was literally feeling right now. Like the coward he was.He wouldn't be lying either. He had butterflies in his stomach the size of eagles, it felt like.

He looked up in time to see Dalisay and Jenny laughing at Benjo's antics with Lonzo.

This reminded him of how the Dead Kids charmed him into their group in the first place, actually. They were social outcasts like him, but they chose to be so. They showed him it was okay to be different.

They liked keeping to themselves and didn't care how they looked to others, which Florante respected a lot.

The most abuse Florante got from them was them using him as their gopher or getting his name wrong. Even Benjo, their one member that reminded Galang of his classmate bulies, never went the extra mile when teasing him.

He never felt like any of them dehumanized or degraded him. Or treated him like the "other".

They didn't treat him particularly well or superbly, but even their mere tolerance of him was leagues better than the treatment he got from his own classmates as the resident weirdo of the class.

Florante heaved a relieved sigh at Jenny getting along with the rest of his so-called friends. Or even acquaintances.

His heart twinged with jealousy at the sight too. Made him wish he was closer with both the Dead Kids and Jennifer.

What was he even worried about again?

That he'd ruin another friendship because he caught feelings with Jenny like he did with Laura, so he'd start acting all awkward and creepy around her?

Nah. He had no need to fear. He simply just had to deny his silly crush with Jennifer so they wouldn't end up cold and distant like him and Laura Reyes did.

Even if this was good as it got, he'd be fine with it.

This was his path of least regrets.

If there was an event he wouldn't "Undo" with a magical "Ctrl + Z" command, then it would be him meeting his friendships/acquaintances, the Dead Kids.

***

Aside from the playfulness and banter, something seemed different between the Dead Kids and Jenny Tolentino from the rest of Florante's classmates that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

Their infectious positivity seemed like something out of a commercial for menthol cigarettes or saltine crackers, thought the bemused Florante.

No wait. Mentos. They acted like they were in a Mentos commercial!

Something about them seemed almost surreal. Or unreal. Like a performance.

He examined Jenny the most. Not because he was enamored by her, of course. Well, maybe because of that too.

Jenny's glasses glinted in the daylight of the open cafeteria. Her skin was pale, but it looked practically tanned when near the porcelain or marble statue skin of Dalisay, who truly lived up to her name. In Tagalog, "Dalisay" meant "Pure".

Hell, compared to her, Florante's skin was practically wood-colored.

Florante averted his eyes from Kal's sister by reflex, knowing full-well of how extreme Dalisay's overprotective brother behaved around people who stared at her or even tried to talk to her (like Lonzo, who was supposed to be their friend).

Meanwhile, Jenny's pink lips pursed into a cute pout as she and Dalisay teased each other over… something. Her hazel eyes sparkled with her flushed, blushing face.

What was about her that seemed strange to him? Was it his imagination? He pondered, staring at Jenny, trying to isolate any changes in her expression.

At the back of his mind, he idly wondered if this Jenny had the same memories as the Jenny in his dreams. The one that saved his life twice. The literal girl of his dreams. Did reality match his fantasy?

"What are you staring at, Flor?" asked Lonzo with a snicker, and Florante knew that the cheeky bastard already knew the answer to his own damn question.

At that moment, Jenny's eyes flashed to meet Florante's.

Instead of merely looking curious, she gave him a harsh stare. Like a warning of some sort. Her sharp eyes belying the smile on her face.

Florante dropped his head, letting his curtain of hair bangs cover his face. During the instant that their eyes met, he could've sworn.

"Flor…?" Lonzo beckoned again.

Florante could've sworn that she recognized him. No, wait. That didn't make any sense. Of course she'd recognize him. He was her classmate, Florante.

No, no. What he meant was that her eyes glowed the same way it did in his dreams.

Her look of recognition wasn't because she recognized him as Florante. It was because she recognized him as Archangel Gabriel.

He had promised in his last dream that he'd forget about everything, but here he was breaking that promise once more. Even though honestly, he couldn't help it.

How Florante surmised all that from a simple glare, he couldn't tell you.

Or maybe he was just in denial. His constant staring must've finally got on Jenny's nerves, leading to her glaring at him.

Lonzo whispered, "Is your girlfriend staring back at you too?"

Florante palmed his face. His cheeks felt hot to the touch. "She doesn't look angry or anything, does she?"

"I don't know," came Estanislao's unhelpful answer. "Maybe stop being a weirdo and talk to her like a normal person?"

"Stop calling her my girlfriend then," Florante begged. "She's probably the only friend I got in class. You'll just weird her out."

"Sure thing, buddy. I'm just teasing," relented Alonzo.

"…So she's not angry?"

"Ask her yourself, dumbass!" Lonzo put Florante in a headlock and rubbed his knuckles over the top of his noggin. "Jeez, no wonder you're bullied so much! Grow a spine!"

***

Mustering up the courage to talk to Jenny, Florante sat beside her and talked. Like the good ol' days when he, her, and Laura first met.

He asked Jenny without looking at her, "Where have you been?"

She thought for a minute. "Oh, around."

The coy answer made him second-guess himself. If he referenced his dreams about her in any way, would she confirm them as real?

No, that was stupid. "Were you sick?" he asked.

"Maybe a little. Like you. I'm fine now, thank you for asking," she answered.

"Oh. That's good to hear. I'm glad," he said.

"It's been cold lately, hasn't it?" she said. "No wonder everyone is getting sick nowadays."

"Yeah. But sunny other times. Like the weather's bipolar or something," he said.

"I know, right? Like it couldn't make up its mind," she said.

"Did you get contacts?" he then blurted out unthinkingly.

Puzzled by his unexpected question, she answered, "No. I'm wearing glasses."

"Oh yeah," he mumbled, wishing the earth would part and swallow him whole. "I thought there was something different about your eyes."

She shrugged with a confused smile. "It's the same eyes I've always had."

Man, what was this conversation even about? Talk about awkward.

After a slight pause, Jenny asked, "…Sooo were the rumors true? Did you or didn't you draw Laura Reyes nude?" while adjusting her large, bug-like spectacles in a way that honestly only she could pull off.

"What? NO! I didn't…" Florante raised his voice, but he then trailed off lamely. His voice sounded sad, even to him.

He soldiered on though, pleading his innocence. "I-I was doing a rough sketch! Can you tell her that it wasn't a nude sketch but a rough sketch? The guys who told her it was nude were just messing with me!"

"Really? Show me," she said before taking out a pencil and notebook from out of her purse.

"What? You mean right now?" he asked.

"Why not?" she countered.

Why not indeed. So Florante recalled the anatomy lessons of Art Class and did rough sketches of what initially looked like a naked woman. He then added details like a blouse, skirt, glasses, and shoes to the full-body sketch.

"See? It was all a big misunderstanding!" he said, only for his jaw to go slack as a blushing Jennifer beside him told him, "I didn't realize you were going to use me as an example!"

He looked down and sure enough, he ended up drawing Jenny. "I-I can explain…!"

"I'm just glad you didn't turn it into a nude portrait! My boobs aren't that big!"

"OF COURSE NOT! To do that is sexual harassment!" he yelped, which made Jenny laugh.

He felt his heart twinge at the sight for sore eyes. Her giggles sounded soft and enchanting. Like wind chimes on a gentle summer breeze.

"I was joking, Flor!" She looked at his sketch of her. "Wow. Not bad."

"Eh, it looks a bit cartoony," he said, criticizing his own sketch. "Like an anime sketch. I could've done better."

"Just accept the compliment, you dork!" she chided.

Florante chuckled at that. "You know what? You're an okay gal, Jenny."

This made the both of them go silent. That line was what he said to Jenny before he proceeded to massacre the rest of his classmates.

"You're an okay gal, Jenny. Don't go to school today. For your own good."

A flood of memories—well, false memories that didn't happen anywhere else but his dream—almost overwhelmed Florante.

Him becoming a roaring typhoon of vengeance against his bullies before facing off against an angelic Laura. His tandem fight with Jenny against a spaghetti monster, where he discovered she was also an angel.

His visit to her apartment. Their confrontation with Mammon. Him managing to defeat the crawling chaos. None of that happened yet Florante remembered them all as if they did.

***

The group went their separate ways. Florante was about to head off to the library himself, killing time like always until the late afternoon bell rung for their next class.

However, what Jenny told him before he went off gave him pause.

She looked him in the eye and said, "You promised."

…What?

Before he could speak, she invaded his personal space and said, "Don't break your promise."

She then turned around and left, as though she didn't just say something cryptic and disturbing to him.

"Jenny…!"

"Hmmm? What is it, Flor?"

He hesitated answering. Did he just imagine her say, "Don't break your promise"? Was she gaslighting him? He then said, "I'm okay with it."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm okay with you calling me Flor."

Jenny tilted her head to the side and smiled. "Okay."

His mind spun from confusion. Had he made up the whole exchange before just now? She acted perfectly polite. Like the conversation they had about promises and breaking them never happened.

Or maybe she meant some other promise he couldn't remember breaking?

He had half the mind to believe that the entire exchange was from his own imagination. It was his subconscious mind taking the form of Jenny, warning him not to pursue the madness that was his questionable dreams.

Because the minute he started believing that everything he'd dreamed up until that point was real, that was when Jennifer would give him the same disgusted stare Laura gave him when she had rejected him.

Maybe he really was going out of his mind, dreaming up scenarios where Jenny was his Damsel in Distress and he served as her super-powered Knight in Shining Armor, rescuing her from eldritch abominations and whatnot.

Just like Mammon said. Maybe Mammon was no demon. Instead, Mammon was his common sense. What was left of his sanity.

On one hand, he should be glad all this murder, mayhem, and destruction using fantastical or cosmic powers happened merely in his dreams instead of irreversible reality.

They served as his own Ctrl + Z or Magic Slate that undid what could've been permanent mistakes.

On the other hand, he also wished he'd have dreamed up being a social pariah and the butt of everyone's jokes in Fatima High. He wanted to redo that part of his life as well.

Then maybe once he woke up every morning, he'd instead be greeted with friends and cheers as well as belong in a social circle not rejected by the rest of the school campus.

Undoing the destruction of a shadow monster or sentient Italian dish wasn't a problem Florante could relate to. His inability to form healthy relationships with his peers was.

Hell, if only he could Ctrl + Z his entire childhood. Now that was an even cooler superpower than the Light Array.

"…Galang? Florante Galang?" someone called out to him in the middle of his introspection, thus interrupting his inner monologue.

Who was it? Who dared interrupt the great and powerful avatar of Archangel Gabriel?

Oh. It was him. One of his bullies. Not one of his worst bullies, mind you, but one of his bullies nonetheless.

His bully that used to be his friend before he went with the flow of the rest of the class.

His personal Judas Iscariot. The Brutus to his Julius Caesar: Isaiah Pascual.

The guy whose head Florante blew apart in the murderous fever dream, to be exact.

***

The two former friends kept talking and walking as they went to their late afternoon class.

"Florante," said a sweaty Isaiah, who rubbed his hands together.

"Pascual," said Florante, who wrinkled his nose.

"Hey, buddy. Been a while since we've talked, right?" said Pascual with a hesitant, crooked smile.

"Yeah, I guess." Galang shrugged, eyeing the door to the classroom. "What do you want?"

On the asthmatic's part, he probably smiled the same disingenuous smile as well to keep up appearances of politeness. What did this snake in the grass want anyway?

Florante vaguely remembered Isaiah as one of his few classmates that stood by him when he was being teased by his bullies.

Up until it Isaiah started getting teased himself, so he threw Florante under the bus to save himself.

Galang's first impression of Pascual when they were still cool with each other was that he had the vibes of a Golden Retriever. Or maybe even a sea otter, with that big nose of his.

Once inside the classroom, Florante went straight to his table, with half the mind to ignore Isaiah altogether. He merely half-listened to him at any rate.

"…Look, maybe we can continue this later. Okay, bro?"

"Sure. Whatever."

Grimacing, Galang remembered the swift kick to the testicles that Pascual gave him in his dream, thus "forcing" him to blow his head apart with his dream powers.

Should Florante condemn the guy for something he did in a dream though? No, he condemned Isaiah more for his betrayal of him in real life.

Regardless, the students settled down for Biology class for their section's Science subject that afternoon.

His Science teacher was a chirpy twenty-something named Ms. Isabelle "Belle" Del Mundo. The tall, slim teacher had a signature faint, singsong voice that was hard to miss. She sounded like a character straight from "Sesame  Street". Or "Batibot".

Ms. Del Mundo walked around the room, took attendance, and then had them move single file to the laboratory room at the second floor.

From there, Pascual kept following Florante.

"Gerry and the others finally let up on you, huh?" was the topic he chose to break the ice with. Goodness gracious.

Florante grunted. "More or less."

"Glad to hear it, bro."

'Uh-huh. I bet,' Florante thought, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

Galang ended up with the reputation of being a snitch in exchange for his bullies to leave him alone, but at least now their bullying wasn't as bad as it could've been. He didn't appreciate the passive-aggressive digs though.

He also didn't want to have this talk with Isaiah. He instead wished he could've paired up with Jenny as lab partners. To talk to her more.

To ensure to her that he wasn't going to break his promise. No wait, the real Jenny didn't care about that. It was the Jenny in his insane mind that told him to lay off the daydreams and fever dreams once and for all.

When they got to the lab, Ms. Del Mundo had them separate themselves in pairs.

This was usually Florante's worst nightmare since nobody in class wanted to pair up with him, the social pariah. However, he hoped after his interactions with the real Jenny that they'd pair up this time.

However, instead, he got stuck with Isaiah, who insisted on being his lab partner for the day. What was up with him today?

Their Biology teacher then proceeded to distribute a microscope and a box of slides on each table. The room buzzed with conversation as they prepared the materials.

As Florante and Isaiah worked as lab partners like the good ol' days, when they were still buddies, the latter continued his small talk.

For his part, Galang kept his eyes away from the lab doors, doodling all sorts of sketches on the back of his Science notebook. Like a short comic of Freeza and Goku battling it out at Planet Namek.

"Wow. You just sketched all that out without thinking, huh?" said Isaiah.

"Yep. Just like before," said Florante without looking up from his notebook.

"You never change," said Pascual, which almost offended Galang.

Florante groaned. Instead of hearing the musical voice of Jenny, he instead got stuck with his former best friend's nasally whine. Stuck with the backstabber who saved himself from a social suicide pact and got himself new friends.

Well, maybe his new friends could help him out with whatever problem he was having!

In the corner of his eye, he saw that Jenny and Laura had actually paired up as lab partners instead, with them seated to the desk right in front of the teacher's table.

Laura looked stunning as usual—a showstopper for sure—but Jenny stole the show as far as being the apple of Florante's eye was concerned.

Her side profile remained friendly and open even when looked at from behind, her mouth open with a slight smile on her flawless lips.

Her glasses framed her dazzling features beautifully, like there'd be something missing without them.

She had a pretty nice figure from Florante's vantage point too. Both she and Laura had shapely hips, thin waists, and uh, wide hips that couldn't be hidden even by the folds of their checkered skirts.

He palmed his red face at having such lewd thoughts about his classmates.

"Ah, so you've moved on from Laura Reyes to Jenny Tolentino, huh?" asked Pascual, which got on Galang's nerves.

"Shut up," he murmured, which made Isaiah laugh.

"Bingo! I was right, wasn't I?"

Florante sighed. "…Is it that obvious?"

"Bro, you couldn't stop staring at her empty desk when she was absent last week and now you couldn't stop staring at her when she finally got back."

Jeez. Florante should be more careful and not wear his heart on his sleeve.

If his other bullies caught wind of this, he'd never hear the end of it. Or maybe they already knew and were biding their time to use this info against him. Dammit.

Thankfully, the soft-spoken Ms. Del Mundo began class at that very moment.

Florante tried to focus on her words as she explained to the class what they'd be doing today in the lab.

The slides inside the box were out of order. The lab partners had to separate the slides of onion root tip cells into the different mitosis phases they represented then label them one by one.

They couldn't use their Biology books. In 20 minutes, she'll be coming around to check who got everything right.

Galang already studied (crammed on) this topic and Pascual, if memory served him correctly, had the lower grades and lazier study ethic (work ethic for studying) between the two of them.

So by his calculations, he'd be doing most of the work while his partner did most of the talking.

"Prophase," said Florante after studying one of the slides he magnified to 40X via the microscope briefly.

"Say, Florante…"

"What? Just down 'Prophase' for the first slide, Pascual," he ordered as he slid another slide under the microscope.

Isaiah did what he was told, letting Galang do most of the work. He didn't even bother double-checking.

"How much do you remember about that stormy night?"

"Anaphase," Florante murmured. "What stormy night? I don't remember any storms."

"How to you spell that?" Pascual asked, and Florante obliged him.

"A-N-A-P-H-A-S-E. Anaphase."

"Okay, thanks."

"No problem."

After a brief pause, Pascual's voice went even quieter than before when he continued speaking. "The storm you caused. The one where you ran amok. You don't remember any of it?"

Florante blinked at that. Did he hear him right? No, he must not have. "Third slide please."

Pascual handed Florante the third slide and sighed. "So you don't remember, huh? I should've figured as much."

"What are you talking about?" asked Florante, feigning ignorance while his heart beat began rising in his chest. He then said, "Interphase," after glancing for a few seconds at the microscope.

"Enterphase?" asked Isaiah.

"No, 'Interphase' with a Letter 'I'. Still spelled with a 'phase'. P-H-A-S-E," clarified Florante, before probing, "…Well?"

Pascual wrote down the label and said, "It doesn't really matter if you don't remember." He chuckled. "Would you believe you blasted my face off with light bullets a few days ago? Like something out of a Sci-Fi or martial arts movie, man!"

Florante took his eye off of the microscope and snapped his head in attention towards Isaiah. He felt lightheaded after doing so.

The two were about done with the activity. At the corner of Florante's eye, he could see both Laura and Jenny were already finished with their own slides minutes ago.

The color from Pascual's own face drained the same way it did when facing off against an angrier Florante in his fever dream.

"Oh shit. You do remember, don't you?"

'No. No way. There's no way my dreams are real. There's no way I literally killed my bullies in my dreams, only to press 'Ctrl + Z' and 'Undo' what I did!'

"Susmaryosep," Florante Galang murmured under his breath, wishing he could "Ctrl + Z" this exchange just now.

***

To Be Continued…

Everyone wants to be able to just press Ctrl + Z on their proverbial keyboards in order to undo any careless mistake they've made, whether it's an errant brush stroke on MS Paint or a typographical error on MS Word.

However, reality doesn't work like that. You can't take back what a careless thing you've said a few seconds ago that may or may not end friendships or break bonds. You can unbreak a dropped mug. You can't unspill spilled milk, no matter how hard you cry.

Farewell, Abdiel

#fantasy of evolution #isaiah pascual #florante galang #jenny tolentino #ophanim #angel #gabriel #raphael #philippines #ctrl z #undo #fictionpress.com #original fiction #urban fantasy #saito yakumo #shinrei tantei yakumo

[catboyrichardkarinsky]

So tell me about beverly

are you sure you're ready for this? are you absolutely sure?

okay so Beverly Switzler otherwise known as my most beloved special girl who i would commit murder for is a character from the 1976 Howard the duck comic series who then appeared alongside I'm pretty sure every iteration of Howard except the mcu unsurprisingly :/ (and maybe some irrelevant side stuff idk). She is narratively integral to the Howard the duck story. This is undebatable, even in the one htd comic where she's not a recurring character she still appears at one point and that's honestly what i see people talk about most when they talk about the 2016 htd run. that's how important she is.

But I should probably start at the beginning. Warning, Howard the duck lore is weird to say the least.

So Bev's first appearance was in the very first issue of Howard's solo comic series (he did appear in Adventure into fear and Giant-sized Man-thing beforehand but that's a story for another day) and she started off strong with being imprisoned by a financial wizard (also known as a cosmic accountant. I'm not making any of this up, he is as over the top as you'd imagine) but Howard found her inside the wizard's tower built out of credit cards of which he was planning to jump off because idk if i mentioned before this duck was very suicidal at this point. Howard doesn't manage to save her though so instead they both get sent to this? alternate universe? i think? where they have to find a gem key or something. And they bond immediately because turns out a human woman and a duck from another world can have a lot more in common than you'd think. I'm not going to elaborate much more on their escape because this post is already going to be way too long but I'll just say they work really well together and Steve Gerber (the writer of htd) saw that and readers saw that and so Beverly stayed in these comics for the rest of the run except for the two times she got written out, more on that later.

She's incredibly tolerant, honestly to a fault like she just let Howard live with him without any conditions forever as if it's nothing, she's generally really positive which contrasts Howard's negativity well and she's just really damn adorable. She also values her agency more than anything which sucks for her because the narrative doesn't treat her very well on that regard, it is strongly implied that her parents tried to shelter her a lot and she's kind of trying to prove her maturity and she refuses to conform to any societal rules. which explains a lot imo.

Now, like i said the narrative doesn't always treat her very well. Largely because this is the 70s and these comics were written by a man (who i have a love-hate parasocial relationship with despite him being very much dead). Wait first i do have to give him one credit on this, even though Bev originally worked as a nude model she was relatively not that sexualized at all. Which good for feminism, bad for my by now very obvious crush on her. Maybe I am kind of guilty too huh. She has been harassed by creeps more than once (she did also defended herself more than once, good for her) she got kidnapped a lot especially early on and i couldn't be writing this without going into the doctor bong arc which does feature some of the most questionable decisions by Gerber. i need to start a new paragraph for this.

So doctor bong (yes that's the name he uses no it's not a drug reference actually i think I've made a post about this once) is considered Howard's arch nemesis. He wears a bell on his head that can paralyze and allegedly even kill people, he makes weird genetically mutated creatures including Fifi the sexy french maid duck who then dies (i don't want to get into it) he has a past in journalism and he just so happens to have had a crush on Beverly since college. And that's a problem because he's very much an incel. He kidnaps Beverly and threatens to kill Howard if she refuses to marry him. So she agrees reluctantly which results in her being out of the story for the majority of the original run and when she does officially return it's after Gerber has left. now the really questionable part is that my beloathed Steve Gerber actually started to imply that Bev might even be enjoying this arranged marriage which not only directly contradicts most of her previous characterization but is also just generally really not believable. I actually don't want to talk about this more right now because it always gets me worked up.

Seriously though as badly as the narrative tends to treat her she's amazing, and without a doubt the second most iconic Howard the duck character after Howard himself. marvel has actually made a few attempts to replace her for some reason but it never worked for them because why would it.

I could go into more detail about her later iterations because contrary to how i tend to act I'm not actually a Gerber purist, I'm kind of neutral on this argument (wait i think i should elaborate on this. a lot of people believe no one can write Howard the duck after Steve Gerber. Which is a statement i only half agree with. I do believe it's never been the same without him, but I do like some of the Howard stuff not written by him. Hell i even enjoy the movie in its way.) but I'm already drawing this post out too much and I'm going on unrelated side rants and i think i should just stop. Oh wait one more thing. She canonically studied theatre. As in original htd run canon. And she did do a play in the 2007 run. I just felt like that should be mentioned because theatre is my religion.

#wow this is long #and it's not even the tip of the iceberg #she has a very different characterization in the movie which i could go on a whole other rant about #but my fingers are getting tired from typing so much so i have to stop now #you don't have to read all that <3 i went on for too long and i got side tracked a few times

[kazhewbrekker]

january book reviews

the stolen heir : holly black ⭐⭐⭐⭐

it took me about a week to read this book and by that i mean i read half, wasn’t impressed, took a week and came back and finished it. like with the cruel prince, the beginning and middle of this book aren’t all that exciting in my opinion, but holly takes the cake as usual for her incredible endings. honestly at this point reading a holly black book is worth it just to see how she wraps it. but yeah, i think it was a good starting point for the duology, im positive the prisoner’s throne will be better, as was the case with tcp > twk. im happy to say towards the end i had really connected with oak and suren/wren, however i feel like despite how fun of a concept it is to put wren and jude in direct opposition its...hm, bad ? to clarify, i wish that i felt conflicted on who’s side i was rooting for. but even if wren was in the right, which...bridle aside she isnt, i would still be in jude’s corner simply because even with all the time spent with wren it’s not enough to...connect with her on the same level as i did with jude. and thats a heavy ask to be fair; jude is one of my favorite character’s in the ya/new adult genre. but i think a understandable worry with this duology is that the folk of the air series might overshadow this new story holly black is trying to tell. i can’t say definitively if it has or has not, but i think she’s done a better job of balancing the new characters and plots with reference to the old. it’ll really be a testament to how well she can keep both separate and important in the next book as she’s hinted that jude and cardan will have a bigger role (which makes sense, since we’re uhh going to war. uh oh).

the invisible life of addie la rue : v.e. schwab ⭐⭐⭐

i read 60% of this book probably over a year ago. maybe two. on a plane. this is a reoccurring problem. but i gotta say, schwab is the queen of concepts. she hasn’t had a single book concept that i wasn’t at least a little intrigued by. unfortunately, uhh, this doesn’t always translate to an interesting plot. the beginning of this book is good, it’s engaging (as far as i remember), bestie lost me when she introduced the most uninteresting man in the world: what’s-his-name. no actually, what was his name--hold on--henry ! his name is henry. he is boring. i understand his purpose in the story, but uhh, the most interesting thing about that man was...the deal he made with the devil i guess ? and that gets revealed so late in the game you have to wade through addie being infatuated with this Regular Guy (not that i blame her when he’s the only one that can remember her), but god, yeah that’s a pretty comprehensive reason for me putting this book down for so long. the ending though, see this is the important part, the ending was very good. i was happily surprised how open-ended it was. though the hopeless romantic that lives deep inside my chest and chews on my bones will continue to believe that the dark could learn to love, okay. i don’t think that should be held against me, either way addie wins. slay queen.

daisy jones & the six : taylor jenkins reid ⭐⭐⭐

very different book from the two other before this, lol. im pretty sure i picked up this book offhandedly the last time i went to b&n, i read the seven husbands of evelyn hugo last year and wasn’t...super impressed ? authors tend to hit me a lot harder with their debuts then second or third releases. for some reason. i really respect reid for her use of journalism styles to tell these fictional stories, how much historical research probably goes into making everything seem realistic. i do think--as a personal opinion--writing about music is a very challenging thing. it’s very difficult to properly convey how music sounds, or feels, without being able to hear the music itself. (i feel the same about dancing, but that’ll probably come up another day). but the story is as much about the music as it is about the complex interweaving relationship of the characters in and outside of the band. shout out to my girl, camilla, the best character in that book. i think the most impressive thing to me about the book, besides the stylistic choices (aka the interview aspect), is how the waves minor characters like camilla or teddy or simone make deeply effect every aspect of the story. very akin to real life, there’s so many people that can change the game for you--especially for character’s like daisy and billy who are so deep in substance abuse and addiction at certain points. overall, really great book, the very last page made me laugh out loud.

beach read : emily henry ⭐⭐⭐⭐

emily henry books feel like a guilty pleasure to me at this point. i started reading her books on my flight to new york last summer, which is coincidentally where i picked up a physical copy of beach read that slept in my suitcase for uhh...six months ? anyways i finally decided to read her after talking about emily henry and her books with a friend of mine. it was a very good decision on my part--this is my favorite of her books. i feel like i need to start with the things i dont like about this book, lol. my biggest pet peeve with contemporary romance is that every single one of these characters is an author, or a publisher, or does something in the literary industry. please stop. i get thats where a lot of these authors have experience, it is their field, but jesus christ can we just have like. an illiterate main character. someone with an undeniable hatred for everything book-related. let’s be quirky and different...please ? all that said, january and gus have some actually great conversations about writer’s block and how it feels to write outside of your comfort zone. i’ll say out of all the books ive read in recent years that have to do with writers (another of which being an emily henry book 🙄), this is the best its been done in my opinion. the relationship development in this book is just very gradual and i love that, the fact that they knew each other before, but not deeply enough to be friends so we still get to see them get to know each other beyond their work is really important to me. sidenote: completely understand what january means when she’s talking about the sad and depressing shit people write about in an undergrad creative writing program. good lord. the heavy topics in this book felt very well handled in the context of...yknow a romance novel, it was kind of nice to have a love interest that wasn’t like...secretly a huge asshole who’s hiding the worst secret in the world. they had me worried for a second there when the exwife showed up, but the swerve at the last second was very appreciated. this book would have a very different review if that had been handled differently. lemme tell you, lol. overall, very enjoyable, probably the most fun ive had in this genre since the hating game. wow.

#the stolen heir #the invisible life of addie la rue #daisy jones & the six #beach read #holly black #v.e. schwab #taylor jenkins reid #emily henry #january book review #book review #daisy jones and the six #the invisible life of addie larue

[adultswim2021]

The Venture Bros. #20: “Twenty Years to Midnight” | August 6, 2006 – 10:30PM | S02E05

In this episode: Brock stumbles on a box of old shit. Among the items is a video left behind of the senior Dr. Jonas Venture relaying a message to his son with instructions for assembling an important device. It will involve Team Venture going to several locations to secure various parts for this machine. Thank god it's not season one, because this'll require a lotta new backgrounds, baby!

I don't call this one a favorite, but I do think it's really good and has a lot of things going for it. The design of the episode is fairly elegant; it has the plot of a very solid sci-fi adventure film (quietly ignoring that the ending is basically a parody of Contact). The second act has a few strong funny scenes that barely have anything to do with the story. Jonas Jr. and the ghost Pirate from season one (whom we learn is now working for Jonas Jr.) visit a drug-addled Jonny Quest who is living in some kind of underwater pod. Hank and Dean visit Colonel Gentleman who is apparently passed away in his bed. They read his diary that's filled with nonsense.

I'm just observing where the episode COULD be stronger, which is not necessarily the same as complaining. Actually it's exactly the same as complaining. I just don't want to get yelled at. These scenes are funny but I always remembered them separate from this episode. This episode has a strong story and those scenes are fun detours, but it’d be nice if those characters had more bearing on the plot and not just there as a goofy obstacle. They're mostly just stuff happening, driven by the location of a macguffin. I actually found myself saying “oh! So THIS is the episode where this scene comes from!”.

I still consider these scenes a net positive for the episode. It's just imperfect in my eyes because this could be a very good standalone adventure and a gateway episode for new viewers, except for the fact that it does wind up being a bit of a previous-episode-reference fest. This episode directly references events from “Ghosts of the Sargasso” and the third act is a sequel to “Ice Station Impossible”. This could actually have the opposite effect; further intriguing people into visiting the backlog of the series. There WAS a season one DVD for sale.

Actually... now that you mention it: that might be what happened to ME. No shit! I actually remember sort-of half-watching this episode. I was a “person who did not watch Venture Bros.” mostly because of the bad pilot episode and the lukewarm first regular series episode. I did have a positive experience watching the first Burger King Have It Your Way marathon, which included a small handful of season one Venture Bros. episodes. I do credit that night for helping thaw the freeze-out I was perpetrating on my now-beloved brothers.

I remember half-watching this episode, and hearing Stephen Colbert's voice, and thinking “wow, Stephen Colbert is on this show sometimes? I should probably watch it?” (NOTE TO YOUNGER READERS: Before Stephen Colbert did limpdick lib comedy for CBS he was a highly-respected subversive comedy writer and performer that none of us knew was a Christian). Even though I remember having this thought about this episode, I still considered this the “try before you buy” phase.

Somebody else already made this point, which is why I'm tacking it onto the end of my write-up: The scene where Hank and Dean discover Colonel Gentleman dead (or is he?) and go through his stuff, they leaf through his journal and find a bunch of inane lists, like “TOYS HE WISHES HE HAD AS A KID”, “GOOD NAMES FOR AN IMAGINARY FRIEND” and “HOLLYWOOD ACTRESSES THAT COULD USE A GOOD PUNCH IN THE MOUTH”. The very smart point, which I nearly passed off as my own until I remembered somebody on twitter did already, is that this is basically what clickbait articles are now. That guy was ironically presaging the future of the internet. It somehow wasn't badly writing up cartoons for a tumblr blog that nobody reads.

Oh! Also: the Jonny Quest scene was maybe the last explicit reference to the Ventureverse and the Questiverse being one-and-the-same. They kept this character but only refered to him as “Action Jonny” after this, I’m pretty sure. Remember when I promised to watch every episode of Jonny Quest in preparation for this? Whatever happened to that idea? I wonder.

EPHEMERA CORNER:

Ed's Burger King "Have It Your Way" Lineup (August 5, 2006)

Speaking of the Burger King “Have It Your Way” marathon! This happened! It was all anime. The end! Nothing else to say! Bye bye Ed!

#adult swim #adultswim2021 #the venture bros.

[subbyenbywitch]

[book review] short things (2019)

"i suppose it is the nature of our kind to cling to such ephemeral hopes. it has been so long since our own world was turned to cosmic dust we can’t imagine that all sentients don’t treasure the planets they are fortunate to inhabit."

by their very nature, anthologies can often be a mixed bag, which this one certainly is. i also have to say that it was rather frustrating how blatantly this needed way more copyediting than it got. it’s honestly kinda embarrassing for something attached to a major franchise.[1]

sidenote: after how much of a big deal the introduction made about frozen things[2] i did actually start reading it, but tapped out after a couple chapters when i realized it wasn’t any less boring than who goes there? and like, i’m a masochist, but reading a longer version of a boring novella isn’t one of my kinks, sorry.

on that note, i should add that these stories are based on who goes there? not on its drastically more popular film adaptation, so bear that in mind i guess? and a lot of the stories left me feeling like “meh whatever,” but the ones i enjoyed made this anthology more than worth it. my favorite stories, in the order they appeared in the anthology:

“the” by chelsea quinn yarbo

this was probably the one that seems the most out of place in this anthology since i can’t really see that it has anything to do with who goes there?, but that’s okay, because i’m way more interested in her weird star trek populated by beings with weird pronouns (!!!) and whatnot.

“cold storage” by kevin j. anderson 

this is honestly exactly what i would expect kevin j. anderson to write given this assignment. his is probably the most lighthearted story in the anthology.

the story is about two government employees who are heavily implied to work at area 51, one of whom ends up studying blair’s journal. predictably, the journal isn’t all that made its way from antarctica to their office, and things go very sideways very fast.

“good as dead” by nina kiriki hoffman

in this story the wife of one of the antarctic expedition members deals with her husband returning after a long time away, and her nosey neighbor trying to bully her. she actually ends up befriending one of the things to an extent, as it takes up residence in her beloved family dog and puts an end to her neighbor bullying her.

“the horror on the superyacht” by mark mclaughlin

this has the feel of one of those horror comedies where everyone is half naked and you’re not supposed to take anything seriously but it turns into a massive bloodbath. it’s a lot of fun. not where i would want most of these stories to go, but an effective change of pace to have in an anthology like this one.

“apollyon” by g.d. falksen

this was a story about roman centurions encountering a thing centuries ago. it was a little difficult to get into at first, but once it got going it was just phenomenal. and the pathos of the protagonist listening to a thing that took the form of his dead lover hearing “her” talk about what it’s like to be alone in the universe, cut off from your home… this one was a lot.

“the monster at world’s end” by allan cole

this is probably my favorite story of the anthology. it’s told from the point of view of a thing, but unlike “the things” by peter watts it’s telling a wholly original story. in this one a captured thing is being tortured but ends up befriending a human woman.

amusingly, it refers to humans as things from its perspective, which is a fun little inversion. when it’s later able to escape, it hears her in the process of being sexually assaulted and rescues her. she convinces it to let her run away with it, and as their friendship deepens she begins to convince him that humans are not inherently evil.

there’s even some pretty rad class consciousness on display as she tells him “those depredations are the fault of a greedy, deliberately ignorant few who have seized power over the rest of us.” it’s a remarkably succinct way of describing capitalism to a literal space alien.

and yeah, apart from those there are plenty of clunkers. but i think there’s more than enough in here to make it worth your while if you enjoy science fiction and want more things to read.

… more things to read?

yeah, okay, i’ll show myself out.

b-rank

notes

1. yes, i know it started life as a series of kickstarter incentives that got out of hand, but you still decided to compile it and make money off of it, so put some effort into that please?

2. the recently-discovered longer draft of who goes there? whose aforementioned kickstarter spawned this short story collection.

#the thing #short things #book review #reviews #books

[crazybigredlove]

6th July 2013

Petey! 

All three of the guys from the dating site sent me a text message. Pretty sure they were the modern equivalent of a mating call. Do you think it's okay to screen them according to their grammar and use of the English language? Is that a bad thing? Seems fair enough given that I am a journalist of sorts. Maybe I only write ill-informed fitness articles, but same-same. Okay, yes technically a filler writer for a magazine, but I have a degree in journalism. Or creative writing anyway, which these days really is the same thing. 

Shut up. 

As yet only one has managed to spark my interest and - brace yourself - he's a ginger. I'm not talking a little bit of an orange tinge, I mean shocking fire-engine red hair. He's well over six foot tall (I am still strictly enforcing my six foot two height minimum) and he seems so sweet. Also, he seems very athletic. That's important in my world (refer to earlier point on writing fitness articles. Sure I personally may be allergic to exercise, but staring at pictures all day of men working out has resulted in unrealistic expectations of what Prince Charming is going to look like. Plus, if I can't have Prince Harry this guy is definitely an acceptable substitute). Oddly, he asked for my email even though he had my phone number, but I complied and the first email chimed through only minutes later. War and Peace long but unexpectedly sweet, so I replied being my usual charming and funny self. Translation: I prattled crap and stressed the whole time about how uncool I sounded. Seven drafts later I had to hit send because I didn't even recognise the person in the email anymore and I feared that if I kept going I'd be so far removed from myself that I'd be some sort of load back Victoria’s Secret model cool chick who lives a life constantly harassed by beautiful men. As it was I may have told him that I was of Icelandic ancestry. I'm still not sure how that happened. Anyway, he emailed back a short time later and that was when I told him to just text me again. He did and asked if we could meet up soon. Requested a picture so that I could actually see his face as apparently the kids these days think that when you're looking to pickup the best way is by posting photos of yourself that are so dark and blurry an eye examination and new prescription glasses are required immediately by anyone hoping to view them. 

Well. 

He's cute. Yes. He seems cheeky. Yes. But sending me a picture of himself flipping the bird? I'm going to just take a stab in the dark and say his mental age is either younger than Christopher's or he has no clue about women. I'm not even sure which one I want to be right. Needless to say I did what I do, which is send a text back without hesitation and which probably ended the short- lived romance. He responded saying something similar. Then he sent one apologising. Then I ignored him all afternoon till he sent me one asking if we were good. 

Then I got distracted and only remembered that I hadn't replied about, oh, four seconds ago. 

So that's a new relationship PR: two emails and four texts. I am mentally unwell. 

Harry did insist that I write to you about my problems, and while I feel the bulk of my problems do stem from my absolutely crap dating life (see exhibit A: Big Red giving me a middle finger salute as a mating call) he seems to think there is something deeper going on. Like the fact that I lay awake for hours every night thinking about nothing and everything seems cause for concern. Now, without startling you, he may have thrown the word “depression” around, but you have to know how I feel about labels. Likely he was being a jerk and a little overzealous. Besides, I'm not even convinced that I have problems. 

Buffy chewed through your duvet. Thought you should know. Also, have blown two light bulbs this week and even the tallest chairs in the house are still not tall enough for me to reach. I would ask your brother to fix them but seriously, he'll make a move on me. That would result in his body hanging from the balcony with a 'Love Liv' sign hanging around his neck and I don't have time to deal with being charged with murder this week. 

Liv x 

PS. Bumped into your folks at the markets. Your Ma invited me around for dinner (plus she said I'd lost weight. Ha!). Accepted cordially and explained that it was the least I could do given that I knew that her crap parenting was the reason you'd fled so abruptly. Ok. I didn't really say that. But if I did would you come back? 

#love #friendship #dating #wtf #memories #emails i sent #emails #letters

[snifflesthemouse]

This morning, I read an article titled “I went undercover in the sinister world of Meghan Markle hate accounts" posted to Refinery 29. The title gives the impression of a journalist disguising one’s self as a “Meghan Markle hater” for the sake of getting to the bottom of something. However, the content of the article is nothing like its title.

Before I go further, let me stress the importance of perspective. My post isn’t an attack on the article’s author. I’ve never even heard of the author before now, and I’ve no right or reason to attack a perfect stranger because I vehemently disagree with the content of their work. Making assumptions about someone solely on what they write is lazy and sloppy in my opinion. I may be lazy and sloppy, but a hypocrite I try not to be. Therefore, go forward remembering my issues are with content, not creator.

The article starts out explaining the origins of the term “Megxit”. It continues with other hashtags, conspiracy theories, and so on. The article even mentions various media platforms “attacking" the Duchess, as well as crude posts witnessed by the author.

Then the name dropping begins. First with Murky Meg, then Sue Blackhurst, then According2Taz, then Skippyv20 on Tumblr, then Yankee Wally. Eventually, names of Royal Rota journalists are dropped. Then people like Angela Levin and Omid Scobie get mentioned, with interviews from the latter. Instead of an undercover sting, we get a “Who’s Who" of Megxit, a few anonymous Sussex Squad quotations, and Omid trying his best to be fair.

What this article accomplishes is very little when it comes to objectivity. The title is a misconception, and the content essentially paints targets on the backs of the people the author carelessly considers “Meghan Markle Haters". The article reduces anyone who disagrees with Meghan’s behavior as racist, misogynist, conspiracy theorist nutters. So, not only is the content of the article sloppy and lazy, it also lacks originality. We’ve all heard this sad song-and-dance number a million times.

I guess at face value, it becomes very easy, effortless really, for outsiders looking in to reduce an entire group of people with similar views to the basic stereotypes as old as time. It takes very little thought, consideration, or critical analysis, to assume things because they seem to correlate. But correlation is not causation. Just because some people opposing of Meghan Markle’s behavior happen to be racist doesn’t mean every single opposing person is also racist. Again, lazy and sloppy.

Just like assuming every single Meghan Markle fan is also vegan, anti-monarchy, feminist, woke warriors is downright sloppy and lazy. This author has personally interacted with and found common ground with Sussex Squad people many times. Some even became social media friends. They believe what they do, and I believe what I do. We do not agree with most things regarding Harry and Meghan, but we do agree to disagree and be civil.

So, contrary to the article, not all people “hate" Meghan Markle just because they detest her behavior. It’s important to remember extremes exist for all spectrums. Every topic, especially those politicized or made popular by media platforms, have extremes. There is no denying the fact that there are people who hate Meghan Markle because of her ethnicity. Those extremists who hate Meghan for her ethnicity ironically do not discriminate, though. If they hate her for her ethnicity, they hate ALL people of that same ethnicity.

On the flip side of this coin, is the other extreme. The face is the same on each side because the face represents extremism. There is no denying the fact that there are extremists who see anyone opposing Meghan as racists. Extremists who, by default, view every issue in the world through the lens of racism. While racism is a serious problem that deserves no place in society, assuming racism is the root cause of every conflict is also lazy and sloppy. And the same could be said that these extremists do not discriminate, either. If they see race as the only issue for why people “hate" Meghan Markle, they see race as the only issue for most everything.

The problem with both extremes is when everything and everyone is reduced to racial identity, racism only continues to exist. A racist using skin color as a disqualifier perpetuates racism. Assuming racism is the only reason behind disdain for someone only perpetuates racism. Focusing on race or racism allows no room for content of character.

Especially when people defend Meghan Markle being the victim of racism with a racist rule. When opposing critics say “I didn’t even know she was Black" or suggest her physical features, her Hollywood CV, or past involvement with Black causes were nonexistent before she became a duchess or stepped down from being a working royal, the extremists on the other side often resort to the One Drop Rule.

Which means their defense for calling Meghan Markle “haters" racists, even though they might have never knew she was mixed race, is a form of racism. The One Drop Rule was borne from the Reconstruction Era post-Civil War. The “rule" essentially said anyone who appeared to have Black features were considered Black.

The One Drop Rule was the precursor and eventual backbone to Jim Crow Laws of the South. It was used to oppress and segregate Americans based on physical appearance. Considering most people who never heard of Meghan before Harry came along were ignorant to her mixed heritage, it seems grossly negligent to assume race is the real issue. How can one be racist toward Meghan when they didn’t know she was mixed race? This author wasn’t aware of Meghan’s ethnicity prior to it being pointed out (by her and Harry. Repeatedly.), mainly because this author didn’t care.

Like so many, when I first saw Meghan and Harry together for the engagement interview, I was more excited about a fellow American joining the Royal Family. After learning she was biracial, well it was even better. It represented change and progress. Does that mean I saw the Royal Family as racists beforehand? No. It means I saw them as exactly the opposite. Had they been racist, she’d not be a duchess. Her being American and divorced was more a shock to me than being mixed.

The point of all this is there are extremists on every spectrum. For a journalist to say they went undercover, when in fact they did not, to expose the true motives behind Meghan Markle “haters", only to find they did very little to really understand the other side was disappointing. Not surprising, just disappointing. This could’ve been an excellent opportunity for someone to take the reigns and make bridges between two very passionate factions. Instead it became nothing more than a hit piece.

The article fails to acknowledge the possibility – no, the probability – that most people who object to Meghan Markle do so because of how she behaves. The article only considers one possibility behind this “hate". And by calling the objections “hate", the article in turn defines all criticisms as hate speech. Again, unoriginal, sloppy, and lazy.

So here we have it, yet another article grouping and stereotyping anyone who disapproves of Meghan and Harry as racist haters. Yet again, another article name dropping people “deemed racist haters", essentially painting even bigger targets on the backs of those people. Like they didn’t already have enough hate mail. Yet again, another sloppy, lazy, article that never digs below the surface to understand why instead of assuming it.

This isn’t new, it’s just another slop drop from the sensationalism machine that has replaced fair, legitimate journalism. It would be different if there weren’t so many questions surrounding the births. It would be different if Meghan Markle actually lived by the example she so vehemently preaches. It would be different if Meghan Markle would make amends with her own family before telling the world how they should treat people. It would be different if Meghan Markle were a strong woman instead of claiming to be one.

But it’s not different. She hasn’t spoken to her father since two days before her wedding three years ago. She denies the family connections that existed before her fame. She ghosts people once they are no longer of benefit. She preaches equality and universal service while using her title every chance given. She and her husband criticize the “family she never had" while naming their second child after that family’s Matriarch. All of those are behaviors that incite strong emotional responses. Behaviors. And behavior has no racial identity.

A final note… hypocrisy is the main reason people have issues with anything. When one group of people tells another group to stop attacking a public figure, while using assumptions as their crusade call, it’s hypocrisy. One cannot say “if you can’t take the heat, then shut up!” to another without being a hypocrite. When that happens, don’t be surprised when the same exact thing is said back. If Meghan or her fans can’t take the criticism, they shouldn’t participate in it. We all have the right to choose. Just like if I couldn’t handle the criticism, I’d not be writing this.

Life is not fair. The world is a dark, cruel place. When we expect the world to bend to the will of a few, we are setting ourselves above the majority. A strong woman would know this. A strong woman fighting for others would also know that the only person responsible for how one feels is one’s self. External feedback isn’t responsible for internal turmoil. Internal feedback is. That is all.

REFERENCE:

Amoako, A. (2021 June 11). I went undercover in the sinister world of Meghan Markle hate accounts. Refinery29. Retrieved from: https://www.refinery29.com/en-gb/2021/06/10518195/megxit-meghan-markle-anti-fandom

#murky meg #megxit #yankeewally #prince harry #according2taz

[wordsnstuff]

Guide to Story Researching

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Start With Broad Subjects

When you begin a story that is heavy with technical detail that must be checked for accuracy, the most efficient way of going about it is approaching the first draft with a general sense of the topic. Then, as you write more and more, keep note of details you don’t have or facts you need to find. When you reach the second and third drafts, turn that general idea into specific detail. You’ll know what you need to know at that point, and you won’t waste valuable time doing unnecessary research instead of revising.

Keep Track of Your Resources

Hoard. Your. Sources. Not only so you can cite them to any editors or beta-readers whose knowledge may conflict with what you’ve researched, but so you can refer back to them if you decide to elaborate on the part of the story that required that information in the first place. Always keep a list of links in a document with the specific information you’ve gleaned from it, listed in a way where you can easily navigate and revisit sources and information.

Hold Credible Sources Close

If you find something credible and easily navigable, covet it. When you’re researching very niche or specific topics and you find a gem of a resource that is verifiably correct and easy to understand and use for your purposes, it’s very important that you get everything you can out of it. A lot of resources on things you’ll have to do extensive research on are behind a paywall or incredibly dense. 

Know When to Google vs. Ask Someone

My general rule is this: if it’s an indisputable fact that is fairly straightforward, google it. If it’s a matter of objective fact, google it. If it is an experience or a matter of opinion/perspective, ask someone or find a primary source. If it’s a matter of emotion or subjectivity, ask someone about their experience or their perspective on the issue.

Examples of what to Google:

What year did the Hindenburg Blimp crash?

How many people died of the plague? 

What was Led Zeppelin’s most lucrative studio album?

Examples of what to ask a qualified individual about:

What does gender dysphoria feel like? *

What was the public sentiment around the Havana Mob in the 1950s?

How does sexual abuse impact male victims? *

* - When researching these things, it’s recommended to obtain multiple accounts and perspectives and maintain sensitivity

First Draft = Main Idea, Second Draft = Specificities

As I said before, the easiest way to ensure accuracy takes a front seat in your final product is to accomplish it in stages. The first draft should include basic ideas that provide a general sense of the topic. The second draft is where you should begin deeper research into more specific topics based on what you actually included in the story.

Common Struggles

~ How do I research linguistics of differing time periods?... Researching specifics like this require specialized resources. I would go about it by finding general resources and then delving deeper into the sources they cite within the text. For instance, wikipedia is a general resource, but the citations at the bottom usually lead to a variety of niche resources on the topic, and you’ll probably find what you’re looking for in them instead. 

~ Where do I find credible medical information?... Put simply, doctors. Seriously. There’s a giant community of medical blogs and journals where doctors break medical information down for the general public’s understanding, and they usually cite recent and up-to-date medical studies and practices. Don’t start with WebMD, start with things like MayoClinic.org and through there, find their medical publications like PubMed, which has millions of citations for biomedical literature.

~ Where do I begin deciding what I need to research?... You’ll learn what you don’t know when you actually write your draft and find the holes in your information. I recommend keeping notes of where you’re like “um, I don’t know what year that was” or “I have no clue how to describe what this feels like”. 

~ When should I stop researching?... Stop researching when the detail starts to eclipse the practical application to your story. Remember that the purpose of your research is not to give your reader a lecture, but to accurately portray whatever it may be in order to allow the reader to suspend their disbelief and become immersed in the plot. 

~ How do I determine which information will integrate naturally?... Once you comb through your draft, you’ll find suitable places to slip facts and accuracies into the narrative. If you spend paragraphs writing a report on so-and-so, it’s not mixing in well enough and you’re probably including a lot of unnecessary detail. Research is meant to be sprinkled in gradually and mixed into the plot as you go along. It’s not to write a dense forward to stave off the “fact-checking trolls”.

Other Resources

Useful Writing Resources | Part II

Resources For Writing Sketchy Topics

Where To Start Researching For Stories

Resources For Writing Royalty

Resources For Writing The Mafia

Editing & Proofreading Cheat Sheet

What To Change Draft-By-Draft

Finding And Fixing Plot Holes

Resources For Romance Writers

Resources For Writing YA Fiction/Romance

Resources For Writing (Global) Period Pieces : High Middle Ages & Renaissance

Resources For Writing (Global) Period Pieces : 1600s

Resources For Writing (Global) Period Pieces : 1700s

Resources For Writing (Global) Period Pieces : 1800s

Resources For Writing (Global) Period Pieces : 1900-1939

Resources For Writing (Global) Period Pieces : 1940-1969

Resources For Writing (Global) Period Pieces : 1970-1999

World Building In Historical Fiction

 Writing Other Eras

Historically Accurate Dialogue

Accuracy vs Relatability

Guide To Writing Historical Fiction | Part II

Resources For Writing Science Fiction

Resources For Writing Dystopian/Post-Apocalyptic Stories

Resources For Fantasy/Mythology Writers

Resources For Crime/Mystery/Thriller Writers

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[samwisethewitch]

Witchcraft and Activism

The word “witch” is a politically charged label. If we look at how the word was used historically, it referred to someone who existed outside of the normal social order. The people accused of witchcraft in the European and American witch trials were mostly — experts say between 75% and 80% — women. They were also overwhelmingly poor, single, or members of a minority ethnicity and/or religion. In other words, they were people who did not follow their society’s accepted model of womanhood (or, in the case of accused men, manhood).

If you choose to identify with the witch label, you are choosing to identify with subversion of gender norms, resistance to the dominant social order, and “outsider” status. If that makes you uncomfortable or uneasy, then you may want to use another label for your magical practice. Witchcraft always has been and always will be inherently political.

In her book Witches, Sluts, Feminists, Kristen J. Sollee argues that the “slut” label is in many ways a modern equivalent to the “witch” label. In both cases, the label is used to devalue people, most often women, and to enforce a patriarchal and misogynist social order.

Superstitions around witchcraft are connected to the modern stigma around abortion (and, to a lesser extent, contraception). Midwifery and abortion were directly linked to witchcraft in the European witch hunts. Today, women who seek abortions are condemned as sluts, whores, and murderers. The fight for reproductive freedom remains inextricably linked with the witch label.

During the women’s liberation movement of the 1960s, the socialist feminist group Women’s International Terrorist Conspiracy from Hell (W.I.T.C.H.) used the image of the witch to campaign for women’s rights and other social issues. They were some of the first advocates for intersectional feminism (feminist activism that addresses other social issues that overlap with gendered issues). They performed acts such as hexing Wall Street capitalists and wearing black veils to protest bridal fairs. The W.I.T.C.H. Manifesto calls witches the “original guerrillas and resistance fighters against oppression.”

In her book Revolutionary Witchcraft, Sarah Lyons points out that both witchcraft and politics are about raising and directing power in the world. In a postmodern society, most of our reality is socially constructed — it works because we collectively believe it does. Money only has value because we believe it does. Politicians only have power because we believe they do. Our laws are only just because we believe they are. Like in magic, everything in society is a product of belief and a whole lot of willpower — and that makes witches the ideal social activists.

Lyons argues that witchcraft is inseparable from politics, because witches have always opposed dominant political power. She makes a connection between the witch trials and the rise of capitalism and classism. She connects the basic concepts of magic to historic activist groups like the AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power (ACT UP), who used ritual as an act of protest.

Not every witch is a hardcore activist, but every witch should have a basic awareness of political and social issues and be willing to do what they can to make a difference.

Ways to Combine Witchcraft and Activism

Perform a ritual to feel connected to the earth and her people. Activism should come from a place of love, not a place of hate. Make sure you’re fighting for the right reasons by frequently taking time to reconnect with the planet and the people who live here. This can be as simple as laying down on the ground outside and meditating on all the ways you are connected to other people, as well as to the ecosystem, animals, and the earth herself. If getting up close and personal with the grass and dirt isn’t your thing, try to find a beautiful place in nature where you can sit and journal about the interconnected nature of all things.

Unlearn your social programming. This is the most difficult and most important part of any activism. Before you can change the world outside yourself, you have to change your own psyche. Think about how you have been socialized to contribute to (or at least turn a blind eye to) the issues you want to fight against. For example, if you want to fight for racial justice, you need to understand how you have contributed to a racist system. You can do this in a variety of ways: through meditation, journaling, or divination, to name a few. Note that whatever method you choose, this will probably take weeks or months of repeated work. Rewriting your thought and behavior patterns is hard, and it can’t be done in a single day. Also note that if you are a victim of systemic oppression or prejudice, this work may bring up a lot of emotional baggage — you may want to involve a professional therapist or counselor.

Go to protests. Sending energy and doing healing rituals is great, but someone has to get out there and visibly fight for change. If you are able to do so, start going to protests and rallies for causes you care about. Don’t just show up, but be an active participant — make signs, yell and chant, and stand your ground if cops show up. Be safe and responsible, but be loud and assertive, too. If you want to go all out, you can don the black robes, pointed hats, and veils of W.I.T.C.H.es past, which has the added bonus of concealing your identity.

Turn your donations into a spell for change. When you donate to a cause you care about, charge your donation with a spell for positive change. You can do this by holding your cash, check, or debit card in both hands and focusing on your desire for change. Feel this desire flowing into the money, filling it with your determination. From here, make your donation, knowing that you’ll be sending an energy boost along with it.

Organize an activist coven. Do you have a handful of friends who are interested in witchcraft, passionate about activism, or both? Start a coven! Go to protests together, hold monthly rituals to raise energy for change, and collect money for donations. Being part of a group also means having a support system, which can help prevent burnout. Make a plan to check on each other regularly. You may even choose to do monthly group rituals for self care, which may be actual magic rituals or might be as simple as ordering takeout and watching a movie. Activism can be intensely draining work, so it’s important to take breaks when you need them!

Hold public rituals with an activist slant. Nothing gets people’s attention like a bunch of folks standing in a circle and chanting. Holding public rituals is one of the best ways to raise awareness for a cause. You might hold a vigil for victims of police brutality, a healing circle for the environment, or some other ritual that is relevant to the issue at hand. These rituals serve a double purpose, as they both bring people’s attention to the issue and give them an opportunity to work for change on a spiritual level. Use prayers, chants, and symbolism that is appropriate to the theme, and ask participants to make a small donation to a charity related to your cause.

Begin your public rituals with a territory acknowledgement. If you live in the United States, chances are you live on land that was taken from the native people by force. If you seek to have a relationship with the land, you need to first acknowledge the original inhabitants and the suffering they endured so you can be there. Use a website like native-land.ca to find out what your land was originally called and what indigenous groups originally lived there. Publicly acknowledge this legacy at your ritual, and publicly state your intention to support indigenous peoples. (Revolutionary Witchcraft has an excellent territory acknowledgement that you can customize for your area.)

Make an altar to your activist ancestors. If activism or membership in a marginalized group is a big part of your life, you may want to create a space for it in your home. Like an ancestor altar, this is a space to remember influential members of the community who have died. Choose a flat surface like a tabletop or shelf and decorate it with photos of your “ancestors,” as well as other appropriate items like flags, pins, stickers, etc. As a queer person, my altar to my LGBTQ+ ancestors might include images of figures like Sappho, Marsha P. Johnson, and Freddie Mercury, as well as items like a pink triangle patch, a small rainbow pride flag, and dried violets and green carnations. You may also choose to include a candle, an incense burner, and/or a small dish for offerings. Just remember to never place images of living people on an altar honoring the dead!

Do your research. Staying educated is an important part of activism — not only do your actions need to be informed, but you need to be able to speak intelligently about your issues. Read the news (on actual news websites, not just social media). Read lots of books; some I personally recommend are Just Mercy by Bryan Stevenson, Love and Rage by Lama Rod Owens, and (as previously mentioned) Revolutionary Witchcraft by Sarah Lyons. If you can get access to them, read scholarly articles about theories that are influential among activists, like the Gaia Hypothesis or Deep Ecology. Read everything you can get your hands on.

VOTE! And I don’t just mean voting for the presidential candidate you like (or, as is often the case, voting against the one you don’t like). Vote for your representatives. Vote for city council. Vote for the county sheriff. Voting gives you a chance to make sure the people in office will be susceptible to your activism. Yes, your side might lose or your electoral college representative might choose to go against the popular vote. Even so, voting is a way to clearly communicate the will of the people, and it puts a lot of pressure on the people in charge. It’s important — don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.

In my experience, combining activism with my witchcraft is a deeply fulfilling spiritual experience. It strengthens my connection to the world around me, with helps grow both empathy and magical power. I truly can’t imagine my practice without the activist element.

Resources:

Witches, Sluts, Feminists by Kristen J. Sollee

Revolutionary Witchcraft by Sarah Lyons

The Study of Witchcraft by Deborah Lipp

The Way of Fire and Ice by Ryan Smith

#baby witch bootcamp #THE FINAL BWB CHAPTER!!!! #baby witch #witchblr #witch #witchcraft #witchy #kristen j sollee #sarah lyons #deborah lipp #ryan smith #wicca #wiccan #pagan #paganism #norse pagan #norse paganism #black lives matter #pro choice #reproductive freedom #feminism #lgbtq+ #queer #protest #witchy activism #environmental #gaia hypothesis #deep ecology #long post #mine