#will i actually directly address the survey

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Welcome to my first ever fic! I have another one in the works as well but currently neither of them have a title because title's are hard, so for simplicity's sake this one is Kanej themed and when I share the other one I'll refer to it as Helnik themed.

Concept: Around ten years after the events of Crooked Kingdom, 25-year-old Captain Inej Ghafa frees Maya Olsen from a pleasure house in Ketterdam. Maya is looking for revenge against the man who out her in her position, a man who she knows nothing about except his name: Kaz Brekker.

Tags: @wraith--2 @lunarthecorvus @just2bubbly @real-fragments7

I've only tagged people who specifically said they'd like to read more, not everyone who expressed general interest, but if you'd like to be added to the list let me know! <3

Content Warnings: in more general terms I want to remind people to be aware of the nature of Kaz and Inej's experiences and relationship since even if I'm not directly addressing these things they tend to be implicit in any writing about them, but specifically to this chapter there's descriptions of blood/wounds, and implied sa references (not graphic).

Chapter One - Kaz

"Now listen," Kaz leaned back and ran a gloved hand through his hair, vaguely aware of the traces of blood he was leaving on his forehead, "this has been fun and all, but I promised my wife I'd be home in time for supper,"

He consulted his pocket watch and frowned.

"And I'm already running late,"

It was clear that the man tied to Kaz's chair had no idea what to say. Or maybe he just couldn't. His cheek was a bloody crater; his jaw tight at a painful looking angle. Kaz paused for a moment to survey his half-closed eyes, wondering if he'd done the job too well. But the man was still breathing his pathetic, shaky breaths, and his eyelids were quivering slightly. Kaz hit the chair leg with his crow's head cane, and the man shook back to life.

"Are we done here?"

The man nodded shakily, quivering as he leaned as far from Kaz as his chains would allow.

"Good. Then I'll see you next week, with the money," Kaz pulled a key from thin air and placed it on the man's knee, "Have fun getting out,"

He walked away, listening to the man attempt to call him back through a mouthful of blood right up until the door slammed shut. Kaz stretched, smiled, rolled his shoulders. That had gone well. He was late though - she wouldn't be happy. Speaking of which, Annika was leaning against the wall opposite him, picking at her nails with a knife. She must have news.

"Go check on him if he's not out in an hour. Cleanly, for now, but keep an eye on him. If he tries to run this week, put a bullet in his skull,"

"Why me?"

"You're in my line of sight. And on that, what are you doing here? Aren't you meant to be at the Crow Club?"

"Just came off a shift. Brought you a message,"

Kaz nodded.

"She's back?"

"And pissed at you," Annika confirmed, "She's coming to find you,"

Kaz was meant to go to her. If she'd decided to come to him, it could only mean one thing: he was in deeper shit than running late.

"Fine," he said, and marched upstairs.

" - something else!" Annika called after him.

Kaz turned.

"Yennefer Baars is dead,"

"Then it's a happy day for everyone. Except for me, because unlike other people's spouses when my wife suggests murder, she actually means it. Go to the dock's and rustle us up some attention, the Silver Six is quiet,"

And with that, ignoring Annika's brief mumble of protest, Kaz began to head up the stairs. Yennefer Baars was dead. So that's what Inej had been up to. She'd been gone for the last month, and as a rule they didn't tell each other what a job was until it was over - no sense in worrying each other over nothing. But that didn't mean they didn't guess at what the other was up to, and usually figure it out. Kaz knew that Inej wrote a goodbye note before every job she did and left it with a particular member of the Merchant Council and his risk-loving fiancé, to be passed on in case something went wrong. He only knew that because he did the same thing, and Jesper was a terrible liar. Inej was better at figuring out what he was up to than he was her, that was true, but usually he had some idea. This time he'd heard nothing, until today. Yennefer Baars, owner and proprietor of the Tulip Mill, the most successful pleasure house in Ketterdam since the Menagerie close, was dead. Kaz had to smile.

Even if he was next on Inej's list. What the hell had he done this time?

It was raining, but what else was new? Kaz opened the window and listened to the droplets flowing over the pane and hitting the sill like a waterfall. He couldn't hear Inej, but he wouldn't be able to. Definitely not over the wind and rain. He left the window open for her, and headed to the basin. He shed his gloves and began to wash the blood off before it dried. Running hot water. Years ago he'd added this, with the bathroom of their suite at the Geldrenner on this mind. It was such a luxury, back then. So normal now.

"Inej,"

He smiled to himself as he imagined the brief look of annoyance on her face at him greeting her just as she opened her mouth to do the same.

"Kaz,"

He turned to see her, and immediately Annika's message was unimportant. It was good to see her. She smiled.

"How are things, Kaz? I heard the Silver Six has been quiet,"

Of course she had.

"A little slower than usual, but the Crow Club's booming. I've got time to fix it before the profit's take a hit,"

Inej nodded. A moment passed in silence, before she said:

"Maya Olsen,"

"What of her?"

"You know her then?"

Kaz shrugged.

"One of Yen's girls, isn't she? The Tidemaker. Never met her, but she passes information to the Dregs. I have a few people watching her, making sure the information's good and trying to find out where she gets it. Why?"

"I met her tonight,"

"You mean when you killed Yennefer Baars?"

They looked at each other, dark eyes stone. And then both their hard expressions collapsed, and they smiled.

"It's good to be home, Kaz,"

He liked it when she said 'home'. Really, he knew, 'home' was Ravka. But the Suli travelled the country, never static, never anywhere long enough for that one solitary place to be the only singular point they'd always want to return to. That was too limiting for Inej; she existed to explore. To her, 'home' really meant 'family'. It had taken the last ten years to get here, but he'd come to like that word.

"But we do need to talk,"

Kaz sighed.

"Of course we do,"

Kaz cooked. Nothing special, just warm bread and soup, but Inej seemed to like it. They sat opposite each other at their little wooden table, eating and waiting for the other one to talk first. Kaz was stubborn, but Inej was infuriatingly patient when it came down to this sort of thing. Eventually, he broke the silence.

"Maya Olsen, then?"

"She's at the shelter - "

"I didn't ask where she was, I want to know - "

"Let me finish, Kaz,"

"You know I've killed people for less than interrupting me," he smirked

"And I've killed people for far more. Now be quiet, and listen to your wife,"

Kaz frowned and mumbled something about only agreeing to marriage for the tax break, but stopped interrupting her all the same.

"Maya's sixteen, I met her tonight at the Tulip Mill and took her to the shelter along with a couple of others, but they were the only ones I managed to get out," she paused and glanced away, just for a second, before picking up the thread of her story, "the other girls were both passed out - long story, I'll tell you later - I'm going to check on them in a couple of hours. But Maya was awake, so we talked and... Kaz there's no easy way to say this, but she wants to kill you,"

Kaz almost laughed. So this was why Inej had come to him, instead of waiting for him near the shelter. The had a second place there, unbeknownst to the gangs or anyone else, except the liberated kids - in case they needed Inej.

"Invite her to join the queue,"

"This is different, Kaz. This isn't some random act of aggression or some boy from a rival gang who wants to prove himself. She hasn't just picked you because you're Dirtyhands, she's picked you because you're... you,"

Kaz collected their empty bowls and began to head towards the sink, before Inej tutted and took them out of his hands, swapping them for his cane. He leant against it, and pretended the relief wasn't palpable. Somehow it was still a bad thing to rely on her.

"How does this kid even know about me? The information she was sharing wasn't specific to the gang, she didn't know who she was talking to. Just that he paid her to talk, and to not talk to anyone else. Did Yen find out about the extra income?"

"I don't think so, but Maya didn't say much about it,"

"So what information, in your extreme wisdom regarding matters of life and death, did you manage to gain?"

Inej looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Information isn't my specialty anymore, Kaz,"

"Yes it is,"

She laughed, and Kaz closed his eyes to listen to the sound, but it was only short.

"She blames you for her indenture,"

Shit. No wonder Inej was mad at him.

"What do I have to do with that?"

"Apparently there was no choice but to sell her indenture to a mercher, when her father was in debt. The mercher died and her contract changed hands, several times, before it ended up with Yen,"

The tap hummed as Inej washed the plates. Kaz shifted his weight against his cane.

"She blames the man her father was in debt to," she glanced at him over her shoulder, "No prizes for guessing who,"

This wasn't sounding too good.

"And just for that she wants to kill me? So do a thousand other unlucky sods, Inej, I'm not concerned,"

"You also killed her father,"

Damn it.

"So, she wants to kill me. That doesn't mean she gets to. Doesn't really mean she even tries. I've killed a lot of people's family members, but I'm still standing here. Did you...?"

"Tell her we're married? Yes, Kaz, I'm that much of an idiot,"

"Alright, alright. Still, you might as well. Talk her down, take her back home and find some relative or whatever to take her. That's what you do, right?"

Inej rolled her eyes. She was now perching on top of the half wall between the little kitchen and dining spaces.

"She can't go back. She's a Fjerdan grisha, she wouldn't be safe. And as for relatives - anyone she's got would either kick her out or not dare the risk of taking her. But that's not the problem, Kaz,"

"Right, and remind me why we're more worried about this murderous little problem than any of the others?"

"Because she's different to the others, Kaz. She... well, she reminded me of you,"

"Oh," said Kaz, freezing for a second before slowly returning his watch to his pocket, even though he hadn't checked the time yet, "Then I guess we have a problem,"

Problem was an understatement, and both of them knew it. There was every chance that he was completely and utterly fucked.

#I'm so exciting to share this with you all! #this was so much fun #grishaverse #leigh bardugo #crooked kingdom #six of crows #inej ghafa #kaz brekker #kanej #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #nina zenik #matthias helvar #kaz x inej #inej x kaz #six of crows inej #six of crows kaz #*cries in kanej* #kanej brainrot #kanej fic #six of crows fanfiction #soc fic #six of crows fic #fan fic #Maya Olsen oc

[drarrypotterrenaissance]

First Dates and Repeated Mistakes

Harry James Potter just doesn't have a good track record when it comes to first dates. Unfortunately, he doesn't seem to be improving. For @harryjamespotterweek 2023, Day 1 (Holidays, First Date) Rated T, 1.1k words. Read on ao3 here

“Oh Merlin, not again.”

Harry vaguely registered Draco tripping to a stop beside him, bumping into his shoulder slightly as some of the crowd outside also tried to push through the doorway that Harry was now blocking.

“Potter, what’s wrong?” Draco gently shoved him further into the café, over to one side so that he was no longer functioning as a sentient traffic cone, and then nudged his shoulder slightly harder when Harry still didn’t reply.

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Harry finally said, flatly.

“Yes?” Draco’s tone was more in line with someone addressing a child who had taken a blow to the head, not a date discovering that things were perhaps moving faster than expected.

“I didn’t realize today was Valentine’s Day.” Harry felt slightly sick as he surveyed the pink and red cardboard decorations everywhere, careful to avoid looking directly at Draco while he realized what an idiot he’d been.

“You didn’t know today was Valentine’s Day?” Draco’s voice was sharp, cutting, and making it very clear that he had been very aware of the date on the calendar today, even if Harry wasn’t.

“And I’ve done this before,” Harry mumbled, now looking down at his scuffed trainers, truly impressed that Draco was even here with him at all, considering… well, considering that he’d dressed so casually, when Draco was impeccably tailored, head to shiny-patent-leather toe.

“You’ve asked someone out on a date, on Valentine’s Day, and not realized it was Valentine’s Day? This is the second time you’ve done this?”

At least they were in public, Harry thought. Draco probably wouldn’t want to make a scene about something that might embarrass him too, so he probably wouldn’t shout too loudly.

“It was a first date that time, too,” Harry offered, not really sure why he was so intent on making things worse, but well-resigned to a lifetime of ruined first dates and eternal solitude. Draco didn’t deal well with embarrassment, and Harry suspected that it would be pretty humiliating to discover that a fancy, romantic, Valentine’s Day date was actually just supposed to be a casual outing halfway through.

“Potter. You are an absolute disgrace.” Harry didn’t want to look up, he didn’t think he could stand to see Draco’s sneer, not now, not when things had been going so well between them for the last few months. Harry had wanted to take things slowly, he hadn’t wanted to mess anything up, and now Draco was going to dump him before they’d even sat down on their first ever date. “Honestly,” Draco was continuing, “it’s a wonder that you ever managed to defeat the Dark Lord at all with how hopeless you can be sometimes. Although, I suppose you had Granger to help you keep all of the details straight,” he added, mostly to himself.

Harry drew in a deep breath, bracing himself for the sting of rejection.

“Well, come on then, let’s sit down and you can tell me all about your past shortcomings as a boyfriend so I can properly prepare myself for what’s still to come. Who was the unlucky lady the last time? Was it the Weaselette? Or that other girl, the Ravenclaw seeker, what was her name?”

“Wait,” said Harry, finally looking up at Draco as he ushered them both over to a table and signaled for menus, “You’re not upset?”

Draco looked back at him, eyes wide and brow furrowed slightly.

“Why on earth would I be upset? I knew you had dated other people before.”

“No,” Harry said, almost giddy with relief, “But it’s Valentine’s Day. And I asked you out. For the first time. On Valentine’s Day.”

“And?” One of Draco’s eyebrows had arched up.

“And that’s supposed to be a big holiday – for couples! It’s all romantic! You’re not meant to have first dates on Valentine’s Day, it’s too much pressure or something. And I didn’t realize, and you did, so you’re probably expecting something nicer than just coffee and a walk or whatever.” Harry had been motioning somewhat wildly with his hands, trying to convey the absolute lackluster-ness of the day he hadn’t really planned for them, but they fell back onto the table when his explanation trailed off. “Sorry.”

Draco was still for a moment, considering, and then ever so slowly one of his hands moved to cover Harry’s where it lay on the table. It was ridiculous, their hands had brushed multiple times on the walk down here alone, but even this small, intentional act, in public where anyone could see, made Harry’s heart start to race.

“I’m not upset, Harry. I know you, and I don’t mean this in a negative way, but I didn’t really expect you to be someone who would go all out for Valentine’s Day. I was pleased enough that you finally asked me out – honestly, Potter, it took you ages – and I certainly wasn’t going to ask to postpone our date so that it wouldn’t be on Valentine’s Day.” He smirked, and Harry’s stomach flipped, but he smiled back at him. “In fact, I thought it would be rather nice. No pressure this year, of course, but next year we could celebrate it as our first anniversary. And there will always be big signs in all the stores reminding you for at least a month in advance that-” he sketched a broadside with his hands, “ ‘Valentine’s Day is February 14th!’ Although,” he continued, dropping his hands back and taking hold of Harry’s again, “you did manage to ignore all of those helpful reminders this year, so perhaps I’ll just have to content myself with making plans for the week after, when you inevitably remember too late and have to make it up to me the following week instead.”

His eyes were sparkling with mirth, the petty malice Harry remembered from their childhood mixed with affection to come out as this teasing, comfortable person Harry was suddenly breathless with emotion for.

He tried to tell Draco how relieved he was, how grateful he felt that he wasn’t put off and still liked Harry despite the mental block he apparently had around the fourteenth of February, but what came out instead was a slightly-choked, “You’re already making plans for next year?”

“Well, of course, Potter, be reasonable. Now that I’ve got you there’s no way I’m going to give you up that easily, you’ll have to try much harder than being ridiculous on the first date if you truly want to be rid of me.” He smiled again, a smirk that slid into something much warmer, and squeezed Harry’s hand. “Now, tell me about your last disastrous Valentine’s Day, I want to know exactly what to prepare myself for moving forward.”

#hjpweek2023 #drarry fic #fluff #first date #valentine's day #my fic #my writing #drarry

[sophieinwonderland]

On Moving Goalposts and More!

Let's look at what Moving The Goalposts actually is:

Description: Demanding from an opponent that he or she address more and more points after the initial counter-argument has been satisfied refusing to concede or accept the opponent’s argument.

Logical Form: Issue A has been raised, and adequately answered. Issue B is then raised, and adequately answered. ..... Issue Z is then raised, and adequately answered. (despite all issues adequately answered, the opponent refuses to conceded or accept the argument.

If anything, the reason I have the two arguments prepared that I do is because of the anti-tulpas moving the goalposts. Or at least not having the same goalposts.

The first argument is that the modern tulpa is appropriation because it's based on a Tibetan Buddhist practice. To this, I point out that basically nothing of Tulpamancy, including the name, is actually based in Tibetan Buddhism.

The next argument they make is that the roots of the tulpa are appropriative. This, I counter by pointing out the involvement of Lama Kazi Dawa Samdup in forming the ADL tulpa, and that it's a result of an exchange of two cultures.

Tulpamancy is not based directly on Tibetan Buddhism, but a new concept that was created by the sharing of different cultures.

This is not moving the goalposts and the points are not contradictory.

I... think this has gotten taken out of context.

So far, there aren't any ethnic Tibetans from what I've seen who have commented on the tulpa.

I did write that I'm skeptical of information coming out of the region, but the context was about any surveys or statistics about opinions of the Dalai Lama and how he's regarded there. It wasn't about the tulpa itself, but about the claim that the Dalai Lama isn't an authoritative source on Tibetan Buddhism.

What I mean is that if I were living in Tibet, and somebody came up to me conducting a survey about whether I supported the Dalai Lama, and I knew other people who had been arrested or disappeared for displaying pictures of His Holiness... I might not answer that survey honestly out of fear that it might be some sort of trick to round up dissenters or at least to put them on watch.

My problem with this whole debate is that everyone is speaking for the Tibetan people. I cite the Dalai Lama's statements as an example to other non-Tibetans as to why it's probably not appropriative, since the Dalai Lama is an actual authority on Tibet and Tibetan Buddhism.

Of the voices who have weighed in, there are Tibetan Buddhist on both sides, some claiming it's appropriative and other claiming it's not.

But of all of these Tibetan Buddhists, I don't think any have stated that they're ethnically Tibetan. They're usually people of other ethnicities who adopted and practice Tibetan Buddhism.

(I think a huge part of the confusion in this conversation stems from people thinking "Tibetan Buddhist" is a Buddhist who is Tibetan, rather than a specific school of Buddhism, or several schools of Buddhism, that originated in Tibet.)

The whole debate is just non-Tibetans arguing about what's harmful for Tibetans, and has been spear-headed by anti-endos looking to make up reasons to attack one of the most-researched and scientifically-backed forms of endogenic plurality.

How do you expect to prove somebody's internal experiences with current technology?

You're missing the point of the papers I cite. It's not about proving that endogenic plurality exists. The types of brains scans necessary to even start this process hasn't started yet. It's about demonstrating a scientific consensus that it does.

MPD was acknowledged as a real disorder for a century before the first brain scans could be done.

It was acknowledged as a real phenomenon because notable psychiatrists looked at it and believed their patients were experiencing what they said they were.

Likewise, the fact that many psychiatrists are looking at endogenic plurality today the same way puts us about on the same level of validity as DID had in the 80s before the neurological evidence started stacking up. Except where DID was controversial in the psychiatric field, endogenic plurality is considered a real thing by nearly every psychologist and psychiatrist who has researched it aside from the ones who deny all multiplicity.

The mounting academic support from educated professionals IS the evidence.

But don't worry. The brain scans are coming too.

And yes, I do also cite studies that refer to hallucinatory voices in psychotic hallucinations as dissociative parts of a person's system and suggest using DID treatment in addressing those voices.

Hallucingenic systems are valid and sometimes fall in the endogenic spectrum.

I sincerely hope that's not true.

Part of the reason I cite sources is so others can read them and educate themselves on plurality.

I realize not everyone has the time or the attention, but I would hope that people actually take the time to look at many of the articles themselves. I encourage people to not blindly take my word on anything scientific and to read the sources directly.

I even try to mention Sci-Hub for viewing papers that are behind paywalls, but I'm nervous about linking directly to Sci-hub since anti-endos have tried to get me banned before and would definitely jump on me linking to what's essentially pirated material as a way to get rid of me.

Also, just for the record, I never cite the tulpas and mental health study as evidence of endogenic systems existing. The author isn't a psychiatrist or psychologist, so their opinion isn't really to that fact.

I do cite it when people claim tulpamancy is unhealthy because the survey is useful in that specific context.

But if I'm looking for academic support of endogenic plurality, my go-to is Variety of Tulpa Experiences. The author is a psychiatry professor at McGill University, and the book was peer reviewed and published by Oxford University Press.

I have no idea what this is talking about and don't think I ever had a paper like that on my Studies and Research page.

#syscourse #sysblr #psychology #psychiatry #mental health #endogenic #sophiecourse #system #multiplicity #systems #plural system #endogenic system #system discourse #pro endo #pro endogenic

[halfrican-heat]

Ain't Shit (R. Drysdale)

SUMMARY: Set in the Knives Out universe. Ransom wants to be a big happy family and reunite with his girl. But as always, there is more to the story...

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Black!OC

Warnings: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Cursing, OOC!Ransom, Toxic relationship, Arguing, Single Mom!OC, Ransom cries lol, Heated discussions, Mentions of cheating (It's Ransom, I mean...), Mentions of character death (canon-compliant), Discussions of sex

A/N: I believe that is everything in the warnings, but please let me know if I missed something. As always, please enjoy. Beta'd by @serpentico and my bf :) -Lyv <3

Song Inspo: Ain't Shit - Doja Cat

Masterlist

“No, Steph, I just don’t see the point of having a rich baby daddy if he’s still gonna behave like a fucking deadbeat,” I complain to my sister, rifling through my purse for my keys. “Like he don’t do shit for his damn son or me.”

I sigh, all I wanted was to get into the house. Not be stuck on the damn porch. A cool breeze flutters around me as I shift the phone to my other ear. I shiver a little, digging through my purse a little faster. I know I had them when I got out the car!

“We tried to warn you, sis. That boy ain’t shit and them Thrombey motherfuckers ain’t nothing to mess with. Marta told me they thought she was fucking the grandaddy, girl.”

“Who, Harlan?” I pause. “Marta’s into that geriatric shit?”

“Bitch, for the right amount of money--”

“Stephania,” I warn teasingly, but she continues.

“--I would be, too! They couldn’t prove it. But if she was fucking that old man, I wouldn’t blame her.”

“But ain’t she just his day nurse?” I ask, cradling the phone on my shoulder.  

I rifle more rigorously through my purse. Where the hell are my keys? 

“Yeah, girl! But they asses can’t imagine someone actually being a decent person ‘cause they’re all crooked as hell. They just assume everyone else is, too.”

I suck my teeth, growing irritated because my keys are still missing. “Fuck, Steph, let me call you back. I can’t find my--”

“Keys?”

The deep timbre of his voice sends shivers down my spine. I suck in a short breath, exhaling as I address my sister again. 

“Steph, let me call you back.”

“Wait! Wa--”

I hang up the phone and drop it in my purse. I turn to face Ransom Drysdale who leans casually against my stair railing, dangling my keys from his finger. A lazy smirk graces his features as he shakes my keys at me tauntingly. 

“You dropped ‘em on your way out of the car. You should really pay attention to your surroundings, kitten.”

His grin is cocky as he tosses my keys in the air and catches them. I keep my gaze impassive, crossing my arms over my chest. 

“Ransom, how the hell did you get here?” I ask.

“I drove,” He replies, shrugging. 

“Nig-- Ransom, no. How the hell did you find my house? We don’t exactly share the same area code anymore.”

“Oh,” he replies easily. “Darling, I’m rich. You don’t think I have ways of keeping tabs on my son?”

“Well, you’ve never shown much of an interest in him until now, so…”

Hurt flashes in his eyes, and I feel guilty for a moment. His tone becomes serious as he speaks again. 

“That’s not true, Amalia. Don’t do that.”

“Yeah. Well, Facetime calls aren’t enough, Ransom.”

I snatch my keys from him, quickly opening the door. I intend to slam it behind me, but Ransom shoves his heavy-ass boot in the door. I groan in exasperation, as he follows me inside. I drop my purse on the chair by the door and slip off my shoes. The door shuts quietly behind me. I look back to see Ransom hovering by the door, surveying the space. For a moment, I feel insecure.

My little duplex isn’t much. The living room is modest with nice but inexpensive furniture decorating it. Baby toys are scattered all over the place along with paperwork from my job. A doorway leads directly to the kitchen with a pass-through and barstools. There’s also a little hallway off to the side that leads to the bedrooms and the bathroom. I know it’s not as lavish as Ransom is accustomed to, so I immediately feel defensive over my little home.

But as soon as the insecurity rises, I stomp it down. I did this on my own. Without him. So who gives a fuck what he thinks. After a while, Ransom still has yet to speak.

I sigh, turning my back to him. 

“Take your shoes off if you’re planning on staying.”

I leave Ransom behind, wandering into the kitchen. Rummaging through the fridge, I find some leftovers from the night before and pop them into the microwave. Ransom takes a seat at one of the barstools as I go back to the fridge, pulling out a jar of Arizona tea. I fill a glass and slide it to him wordlessly. I fill up a glass for myself and lean against the counter furthest from him. The low hum of the microwave fills our otherwise silent environment. 

I size Ransom up, taking in the noticeable changes I see in him. He’s not clean-shaven like he was the last time I saw him. Instead, he has a short, well-maintained beard. His hair is parted to the left and gelled precisely enough to give him a “lightly tousled” look. Very corporate. Very…not Ransom. 

His greenish-blue eyes look dull. I would write it off as the lights not doing his eyes justice if not for the reflective glare he’s leveled his cup with. His eyes have lost that vitality and fire I always admired. Instead, there’s something vulnerable about him right now.

Despite this, his physique has not changed one bit. If anything, he’s been working out more. His shoulders fill out his off-white cable knit sweater, a soft look that contrasts his otherwise muscular frame. The muscles of his jaw tense, and I force myself to take a sip of tea instead of reaching to rest my hand on his face. 

The shrill beep of the microwave startles both of us. I whirl around, spilling a bit of my drink on the floor. 

“Fuck,” I curse, pulling my food from the microwave. 

I set the steaming container and my cup on the counter near Ransom and grab some paper towels. 

“Still clumsy as ever, huh, kitten?”

I scoff, wiping at the small puddle on the floor. Standing up, I trash the damp towel and turn to him with my hand on my hip.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Don’t call you what, kitten?” He shoots back, not missing a beat.

I roll my eyes. Just like that, the pensive, tired man from moments ago has disappeared. In his place is the insufferable man-child I fucked around and had a baby with. 

“What are you doing here, anyway?” I ask, fishing through my drawer for a fork.

“I can’t see the mother of my son?” He teases. “After all, I never do anything for you or my son, right?”

Though I know he means it to come across lightheartedly, I can hear the edge in his voice. For the second time today, I feel guilty. I didn’t know he heard that. Still, I’m not going back on a damn thing I said. It’s not like I lied.

“It’s the fucking truth, Ransom. If you want me to take it back then you’re shit out of luck.” 

 He presses a hand to his chest, feigning offense. I toss the lid from the container aside and shove a bite of pasta into my mouth. Ransom continues with the dramatics, of course. 

“How could you possibly say such a thing to the father of your child?”

He continues to “clutch his pearls”, his mouth agape. I chew slowly, arching my eyebrow at him. 

“Are you done?” 

Ransom huffs, rolling his eyes. 

“You act like I had a choice in the matter. Besides, I didn’t make you leave,” He retorts. “You did that on your own.”

I squint at him, swallowing. 

“You wanna go there, Ransom? You wanna do this right now?”

He twists his mouth, tugging his bottom lip with his teeth. Ransom slides from the barstool and strolls around the living room, shoving his hands in his jeans. 

“Where’s my son?”

“That’s not your business,” I say, taking another bite.

He scoffs, flopping himself on the chair by the door. He fidgets in the seat, shifting to remove a stuffed bear from underneath him. He holds the well-loved toy between his fingers, grimacing before tossing it away.

“My son’s whereabouts are my business, kitten. I’m not asking the world of you to tell me where he is.”

“You’re right, you’re not asking the world of me,” I shrug, pushing my food around the bowl. 

Ransom relaxes in the recliner, a smile stretching across his face. He starts to speak.

“Exactly, I’m glad--”

“But I’m not obligated to answer any of your damn questions. So either tell me what you brought your sorry ass here for or leave.”

Ransom’s blue eyes blaze, anger crossing his features.

“You’re a piece of fucking work, you know that?” He bites back, leaning forward. “Get off your high horse, Amalia. You’re the one that fucked off to Albany without a word.”

“Oh, so you do wanna go there!” I exclaim, rounding the pass-through. “Then let’s fucking do it, Drysdale. I’ve been waiting for this conversation.”

He stands to his full height as I confront him. Ransom is heads above me with his six-foot frame, but that doesn’t intimate me in the slightest. I stand chest to chest with him-- well, chest to midsection-- and talk my shit.

“You were the one that couldn’t keep your dick in your pants to save your life! Two hours before our son was born, where were you?”

Ransom grits his teeth, looking to the side. His stance falters a bit. 

“Yeah, you didn’t think I knew that, did you? Tanya can’t keep her mouth closed for shit. If you gonna sleep around, at least find a bitch that doesn’t kiss and tell.”

Ransom at least has the sense to look guilty for one moment before he schools his features into an impassive glare. He crosses his arms, sneering down at me. 

“I didn’t take you for the sensitive type, Amalia. Mad ‘cause that pregnancy pussy wasn’t hitting like you thought it was?” He mocks.

I laugh incredulously. “You wanna make this about my body while I was carrying your child? You wanna act like you didn’t damn near bust a nut every time you looked at me let alone fucked me? Fine, then let’s talk about where you were one week after your son was born.”

“What the hell are you on about? I was in Boston that entire time.”

I scoff. “Ok. Bet.”

I walk away from him, swiftly moving to snatch my phone from my purse. I tap around for a few minutes before shoving the phone in his face.

“That’s not your ass on a beach in Florida then?”

The picture shows Ransom, clear as day, cuddled up with an overly tanned blonde in Tampa, Florida.

Caught, Ransom pushes the phone out of his face. He drags his hand over his mouth, pacing away from me. He crosses back toward the kitchen as I place my phone in my pocket, turning to him with crossed arms. 

“Cat got your tongue, bitch? Ain’t shit to say now, right?”

“Watch it, Amalia.” He snaps. “Who the hell sent you that?”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re a liar.”

“Yeah, okay I’m a liar. And you’re a fucking runner. What a pair we make,” He says dryly. “But none of this will hold up in court. Especially not against the best lawyers money can buy.”

The implications of his words hang in the air. His words are like a cold bucket of water suddenly being dropped on my head. For a moment, my world freezes. Questions swirl around my brain, bouncing against every nook and cranny. 

Court? He wants to take this to court? Ransom wants to…what? Petition the courts for custody? Why now? Why is he doing this? What does he want with Shiloh?

 I feel my body go cold as numbness seeps into my bones. The air feels static, almost sharp. Like breathing in tiny bits of glass. Then all at once, everything inside of me becomes deathly calm. My eyes meet his, brown and blue clashing as I step toward him. 

“No, but you know what will hold up? Every sleepless fucking night I’ve had taking care of Shiloh. Every bill, every piece of clothing, and every bit of food I buy for that boy. Every moment I’ve spent with that baby since the second he was born will hold up in court.” I say, moving toward him. 

“And if you think I don’t got the receipts to prove it then you got another motherfucking thing coming.”

I stand directly in front of him, my voice lowering as I look up at him. 

“You wanna take this to court? Let’s. Fucking. Do it.”

Ransom stares down at me, his glare impassive. I steel my resolve, refusing to back down. His eyes search mine. I know he wants to call my bluff, but he can’t. Tucking his lips, Ransom finally looks away and sighs. He runs a hand over his face and then through his hair before pacing around the living room again. I wrap my arms around myself.

The coldness in my bones has settled, leaving me rattled and frozen in place. I stare at Ransom’s discarded glass on the counter. 

Half-empty. 

He paces silently. I stand there, continuing to stare into space. A heaviness settles around us as tension strangles the room. Then, Ransom sighs. A deep, heavy sigh laden with fatigue. He drops onto the recliner as if all the fight in him has vanished. He holds his head in his hands, breathing in deeply. 

He exhales and lifts his head to look at me. His elbows are propped on his knees, hands clasped in front of his mouth. The man from earlier returns. The pensive, tired man with creased eyebrows and the entire world on his shoulders. 

I swallow the pity I feel and give him a heated glare, daring him to break the silence. To piss me off further. 

Instead, his eyes swarm with tears. I watch as his face contorts, a broken sob escaping him. He covers his face with his hands, sobbing silently. 

I stand there watching him, frozen. Unsure of how to proceed. Ransom was never very forthcoming with his emotions. For once, I feel out of my depth with him. Do I comfort him? Or do I leave him alone to deal with his feelings? 

The bitch in me wants to tell him to clean himself up and get the fuck out. 

So, I shift awkwardly on my feet. I go back and forth for what seems like forever as he sits in front of me crying. I avoid looking at him, but the sound of his sobs isn’t exactly something I can ignore. I screw up when I take a glance at him, feeling immediately drawn in by the unabashed emotion on display. I feel myself giving in and wanting to succumb to the desire to console him. My resolve starts to crack and then…

Then, he looks up at me with pained, heavy eyes. My heart wrenches in my chest as he mumbles a garbled apology. I cross to him, sliding to the floor just as he crashes into my arms. The weight of his hug nearly knocks me over but I keep myself upright, holding him close to me. Ransom grips me tightly as I stroke his hair, whispering soft reassurances. He buries his face in my neck as apology after apology tumbles from his lips. 

“I’m sorry, Amalia. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Were he not sobbing his face off, I might feel vindicated. I deserve this apology after all, right? 

I gently shift his face from my neck, encouraging him to sit up on his own. I smile softly at him as he sniffs, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. I brush away a stray tear, stroking his face. He leans into my touch, giving me an all too familiar look. 

I clear my throat and pull my hand away, wiping it on my pant leg. 

“Ransom, what’s going on?” I ask quietly. “Why are you here?”

I steal a glance at him. He stares intently at me as if weighing his options. He licks his lips before releasing a heavy sigh. 

“Harlan is dead.”

The words come out quietly and quickly. They roll off his tongue as easily as a “hello” or “goodbye”. But these words cause my heart to drop and lead fills my chest. My vision blurs and suddenly I can’t see. I blink the tears away and shake my head, searching his face for a lie. He stares back solemnly, tears leaking from his eyes.

“He…no, that’s not possible! He was just…” I trail off. “No…”

He props his arm up on one knee, dragging his other hand over his face. His head lolls back, resting on the recliner. He sniffs, wiping at his nose. 

“He’s dead, Amalia. Died three days ago.”

My lungs feel as though they’re about to give out. 

“How?” I push out, struggling to keep my emotions at bay. “How did he--”

I cut myself off, pressing a hand to my mouth. Ransom’s mouth presses into a thin line. He hesitates before speaking again. 

“Heart complications.”

I release a heavy breath, my chest caving. My hand presses into my chest, trying o relieve the tightness that has accumulated. His words swirl in my mind as I try to comprehend them. Pressure rises in my head, and I think I’m sobbing but I can’t tell. My body feels foreign-- like it’s no longer mine. Like I’m floating above it. 

He was just here, my brain screams. He was fine. He told me he was fine!

I talked to Harlan all the time. After Shiloh was born, Harlan Thrombey was the only person from that damn family to reach out to me at all. He offered money and moral support. I told him I didn’t want a dime. After all, it was Ransom’s responsibility. Not his.

“I guess I have a habit of cleaning up that boy’s messes,” He had said to me. 

Still, the old man reached out weekly to update me on his health and to facetime with Shiloh. Now and then he still tried to send me cash, but I wouldn’t have it. His constant support meant more to me than his money. He stepped in when I felt like I had no one else in the world and, for that, I am eternally grateful. I had plans to surprise him with a visit next month so he could meet Shiloh in person.

But it’s too late now.

Suddenly, I slam back into my body and find myself wracked with sobs that echo off the walls. The tears tumble from my eyes of their own accord as I shrink into myself, curling into a fetal position. Ransom reaches for me, trying to comfort me. I thrash in his arms and push away from him. I don’t want his comfort. I don’t need it. 

But he won’t give up. Instead, he pulls me closer and cages me between his legs, one propped up with the other stretched out. I scream and I cry and I struggle in his arms. Still, he holds me tighter. Eventually, I tire myself out and slump against his chest. I listen to the familiar thrum of his heartbeat and, against my better judgment, start to relax. One of his hands rests gently but solidly on the back of my head while the other rubs my back. I grip his sweater, rubbing the fabric between my fingers. My sniffles fill the otherwise quiet space as everything suddenly comes to a standstill. 

The subtle rise and fall of his chest reminds me of a time before this. Before Shiloh. Before the arguments and the cheating. Before I ever knew who he truly was. My eyes burn again as a new wave of sadness rushes over me. But I stop myself short, refusing to give in to that pain. I buried it, and I can’t go back. 

There are more important things to deal with now. 

I sit up, untangling myself from Ransom. I feel his stare on me as I wipe my face and tuck my hair behind my ear. I cringe inwardly at how much of a mess I’ve probably made of myself. Self-consciously, I run my fingers through my hair and detangle some of the kinks. If this wig wasn’t laid as fuck, I’m sure it would be crooked and matted by now. I drop my hand to my lap with a sigh and bite my lip, searching for something to say. But for once, my words fail me. So, I settle for silence instead. 

But Ransom has other plans it seems. 

He reaches for the hand resting on my lap and holds it in his. He squeezes lightly and I look at him hesitantly. He smiles softly and releases a quiet breath. His thumb strokes the back of my hand as he looks away from me. He faces the direction of the large window behind the chair. The setting sun shines on his face, giving him a warm glow that highlights the green undertones in his eyes. 

He draws his bottom lip in, running his teeth over it before releasing it. He lets out a short breath and nods to himself slightly. His gaze returns to mine, determined. I frown, uncertain of him. I move to withdraw my hand but he rests his other hand on top of mine. He gazes at me imploringly and this sudden change unnerves me further.

“Ransom, what is it?”

“Kitten, I need you to listen carefully to me,” He starts, his voice low. “Promise you’ll hear me out?”

I remove my hand, choosing to stand. Ransom sighs and stands as well. I cross my arms, arching an eyebrow. 

“What is it,” I repeat. 

He rests his hands on his hips. His head tilts towards me a little as he frowns, his forehead creasing. Then, he crosses his arms and turns away from me for a moment. He faces the window, placing one hand over his mouth. I grow impatient and huff. 

“What the hell is it? What are you not saying!”

Ransom sighs and looks at me over his shoulder. He looks back out of the window before finally turning back to me. He lifts his hands, his palms out toward me. 

“Okay, okay. There’s…Harlan left a will,” He says.

I shake my head, shrugging. 

“Okay, and?”

A hand drops to his hip as he drags the other through his hair. 

“Look, my granddad was incredibly fond of you. He loved Shiloh,” Ransom rambles. “And…and so he wanted to take care of the two of you.”

“Yeah, and I told him that I never wanted his money. That Shiloh was your son and that I would be fine. Y’all know that. He knew that.”

Ransom laughs shortly, shrugging. “He was a stubborn bastard. We all knew that.”

I rub at my temples as the beginnings of a headache rise. 

“Get to the fucking point, please.”

“Fuck, okay. Listen,” He says, exasperated. 

He places his hands on my shoulders and levels me with a deep stare. 

“Amalia. Harlan…he left-- fuck.” He pauses, swallowing thickly. “He left half of his estate to you.”

Next Chapter: Bad Reputation

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Masterlist

#Ransom Drysdale x Reader #Ransom Drysdale x Black!Character #Black reader #black writer #my writing #black fanfiction #angst #hurt/comfort #chris evans #written by me #written by lyv #Ain't Shit - RD #fanfic #black fanfic #ransom drsydale fanfic

[hexjulia]

hell...yes.

"Besides the potential of Fuligo septica spores to be an allergen to those who are susceptible, this surprisingly common slime mold is not toxic to people, plants, or animals. It can be found on rotting bark and forest floors in nature – or on wood mulch in urban areas – normally when conditions are moist. The microorganisms the slime mold consumes are mainly bacteria and fungi, which are also very much present in the decaying food scraps and coffee grounds within a worm bin. And although Fuligo septica is harmless to people, it needs to watch out for us, as it is actually edible! Appropriately, another name for dog vomit slime mold is scrambled egg slime, as indigenous people in some areas of Mexico have collected the mold and scrambled it like eggs. Breakfast anyone?"

"Enteridium lycoperdon, a slime mold, is consumed by certain populations in Mexico and has the common name "caca de luna." Fuligo septica, another slime mold, is also consumed in Mexico.

(More specifically, the second and third quotes in the question are correct. The first quote is supported by secondary literature, but I cannot confirm a primary account that reports the same thing, possibly because these articles are in Spanish and from the 1980s.)

A 1989 article mostly written in Spanish recorded Enteridium lycoperdon, a slime mold, as eaten by "peasants from the State of Tlaxcala" in Mexico. The same article also attributed "caca de luna" as one of its common names. An earlier 1983 article (also Spanish) said people in the area around Cofre de Perote (an inactive volcano in Mexico) fry and eat the juvenile state of Enteridium lycoperdon. There aren't additional details on recipes in these primary sources. One of the quotes in the question also says Fuligo septica is consumed. This is supported by a 2002 article, though it's less clear whether "caca de luna" is used to refer to this fungi.

The two 1980s primary articles that directly address the claim

Luis Villarreal (the same L. Villarreal who wrote the 1983 article referenced later), research professor at Colegio de Postgraduados (a Mexican college), and Jesus Perez, senior research professor at the same school, surveyed edible mushrooms in a 1989 article. This mostly-Spanish article writes that "the Myxomycete Enteridium lycoperdon is recorded as an edible species eaten by peasants from the State of Tlaxcala." In Table 4 (translated to English as "Vernacular names of the species studied"), the "vernacular names" (or common names) of Enteridium lycoperdon are listed as "yemitas", "huevitos", "hongo de luna", and "caca de luna."

The article noted that "This is the second record of [Enteridium lycoperdon's] edibility in Mexico, since it was recorded for the first time from Veracruz (Villarreal, 1983), where it is named "hongo de luna" or "caca de luna. (translated from Spanish)" Unfortunately, there isn't anything on recipes in this article.

The Villarreal 1983 article can be found through the author's ResearchGate profile. (Ordering the article from the publisher requires paying a fee of 5 USD, 3 Euros, or 50 MXN.) This article records that people in the area around Cofre de Perote (an inactive volcano in Mexico) fry and eat the juvenile state of Enteridium lycoperdon. The article also refers to the fried fungus as "caca de luna." There isn't much else revealed in this article (you can see some drawings of this fungus in Figures 1 and 2). I translated the author's description of Enteridium lycoperdon (which is also referred to as Reticularia lycoperdon) from Spanish below:

Pulvinized ethalia, 2.5 cm in diameter, silvery white to brownish-brown, more or less globose to slightly flattened; hypothalamus small, like a white membranous margin; bark thin and brittle, white to silver, rough to reticulated, reddish-orange under the microscope; pseudocapillice of reddish brown color, coming from the base of the etalium in the manner of arborescent-dendroid columns, with pointed terminations; Spores 8-9 um in diameter, oval, pale brown in mass, pale yellow under the microscope, with reticulated surface.

Habitat: On rotten wood in montana mesophyll forest.

Material studied: Cerro La Martinica, Mun. Banderilla, Martinez 100; The Revolcardero, Mun. Xico, Coire de Perote, Villarreal 396.

Discussion: It is a cosmopolitan species (Martin and Alexopoulos, 1969; Farr, 1976). It was cited from Mexico without a precise locality by Farr (1976). It is edible during the juvenile state and consumed fried, by some inhabitants of the Cofre de Perote area, who know it by the popular name of "caca de luna", due to the circular shape that they present and the soft consistency, as well as for its color.

A primary article on Fuligo septica, the other fungus mentioned in the question

In a 2002 article1 published in the Journal of Ethnobiology, researchers surveyed people from 3 Mexican communities between 1988 and 1992 on the mushrooms they regarded as edible or toxic. Fuligo septica was named as a food by <40% of interviewed people (though it's not mentioned what the exact % is). The paper also included that the Tepehuanes of Durango (an indigenous group in Mexico) do not eat Fuligo septica extensively because of "its soft and gelatinous appearance." However, this does support that Fuligo septica, a slimemold, is consumed in Mexico (or at least was in the late 1980s/early 1990s).

Other articles/sources

There are other articles in the literature that discuss fungus and bring up "caca de luna."

The Department of Plant Pathology at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln (UNL) publishes some papers as Papers in Plant Pathology. This 2010 paper from Harold W. Keller (emeritus professor at the University of Central Missouri) and Sydney E. Everhart (associate professor at UNL) says:

The yellow plasmodium of Fuligo septica has been reported by Lopez et al. (1982) as eaten by the Indians from the area of Cofre de Perote in the state of Veracruz, Mexico, where it is referred to by the popular name of “caca de luna” or translated into English “excrement of the moon.” The scrambled-egg-like stage is fried with onions and peppers much like scrambled eggs and eaten on a tortilla.

It's possible Fuligo septica and Enteridium lycoperdon both share the name "caca de luna," though I couldn't find the Lopez et al. article to confirm this.

Their is a mini-review in the Journal of Bacteriology & Mycology (supposedly peer-reviewed, though after more searching I found some bad things about its publisher):

Young aethalia of Reticularia lycoperdon, and Fuligo septica plasmodium were used as a human nutrient in Mexico. It is referred to by the popular name of “caca de luna” or translated into English as “feces of the moon.” The scrambled-egg-like stage is fried with onions and peppers much like scrambled eggs and eaten on a tortilla.

This one cites two papers (the Lopez one is the same as that cited in the UNL paper):

Lopez A, Garcia H, Herrador JL. Nuevos registros de hongos comestibles de la region del Cofre de Perote, Estado de Veracruz. (Abstract) Page 30 in Primer Congresso Nacional de Mycologia. Sociedad Mexicana de Micologia. Xalapa, Vercruz, Mexico; 1982.

Villarreal L. Algunas especies de Myxomycetes no registradas del estado de Veracruz. Boletín de la Sociedad Mexicana de Micología. 1983;18:153–164.

Finally, the book referenced on Wikipedia and in the question (Myxcomycetes. A Handbook of Slime Molds, Stephenson, Steven L & Stempen, Henry, 2000.) cites the same 2 articles:

Google Books search for "caca de luna" (shows the book cites Lopez et al. 1982 and Villarreal 1983, and the fungi that are eaten are Enteridium lycoperdon)

Google Books search for "Lopez"

Google Books search for "Villarreal"

So it looks like everybody goes back to the same 2 sources from the 1980s. I cannot find the Lopez et al. paper online (if you do, please share! looks like it's a literal printed book). I discussed the Villarreal paper as one of the two 1980s primary articles.

1 @David Hammen pointed out another article on the edibility of various fungi, though the publisher of this article may be predatory. Among the citations from that article is the 2002 article published in the Journal of Ethnobiology (seems like a legitimate journal), which is how I found the 2002 article.

#i NEED to eat the slime mold 🤤 #slime molds

[summersnow82]

The Scent of Roses - Part 8

Fanfiction_X-Men

Fictober 2023_Prompt 31: “It’s not your fault.”

Author's note: A kind anon let me know my posts weren't showing up in the tags recently. Here's hoping that'll change. Thanks for sticking with me.

.....

Sabrina had been right: her class was not ready to discuss And Then There Were None – which was a shame because it’s a phenomenal read. Instead they had questions, concerns, fears to address, and a nasty rumor about Rogue Sabrina intended to nip in the bud immediately.

“Quiet down, quiet down!” She called, gaining her students attention. “Now let’s be clear here – there’s enough bickering outside these mansion walls. It will not happen in my classroom, understood?” The students all reluctantly nodded. “And further more,” she looked directly at Rogue who was staring at her desk a bit too intently. “Rogue did nothing wrong. Rogue.” The young woman looked up, surprised she was being called out so directly. “It’s not your fault. I made a choice, and some of my team were unhappy about it.” She turned to look at the other students, taking the time to meet their eyes. “I made the choice. Me. So if you want someone to blame look right here.”

Sabrina sighed, raking a hand through her hair. She hadn’t had time to put it in a French twist or a high ponytail like she preferred. She’d barely had time to grab a suitable outfit, but the blue and white polka dot midi dress with a flared skirt, short white gloves, a pale pink cardigan, and navvy ballet flats would have to do for now. She’d deal with her hair later. She moved to the front of her desk, perching on the edge to survey her class. “We’re going to use this class to talk about your concerns with this cure. Your hopes, your fears, all of it. So,” she stood, flashing them a smile, “let’s move these desks into a circle, shall we?”

….

His political appointment as Secretary of Mutant Affairs left Hank with little free time, and for this reason he’d resigned as a full time teacher at Xavier’s school. Still, when he was home he would often take three or four students under his wing for mentoring and academic expansion. Charles had also given him a small drama class to conduct, which oftentimes paired with Jean’s public speaking class. He’d yet to speak to Charles about his news from the President, and to his credit, the older man had let Hank marinate in his thoughts without prompting. But he’d had his cup of coffee – more than one, actually – and time to mull over a number of rising concerns and issues, and now he needed to find his old friend.

And probably take care of some hygiene issues on the way. He glanced down at his rumpled clothes and grimaced.

Xavier’s school had a number of classrooms, but not all of them were presently being used. Several teachers had resigned or left, which wasn’t uncommon. Hank and Sabrina had both left at one point or another, as had Warren and Kurt. Logan consistently behaved as if the front door were a revolving door. Their staff numbers were currently lower than ever, and many teachers were taking on several classes to make sure the students educational needs were being met. Logan was tackling history and shop class; Jean had genetics and public speaking; Sabrina was teaching English while acting as the guidance counselor; Storm had environmental sciences and art; Scott had mathematics and physical education; and the Professor was teaching ethics and psychology. Each adult was part of a rotation for the Danger Room training for the older students, and they were always paired up differently. Hank would need to check his schedule again and see if he needed to trade shifts.

His thoughts consumed him as he headed towards his room, and he didn’t realize he was passing Sabrina’s classroom until he was walking by the doorway. His eyes tracked the way her hair fell around her shoulders, how her eyes lit up as she spoke to her students, and how her lips always seemed to have a touch of a smile as she engaged with them. “All these feelings and thoughts are completely valid, guys,” she said, looking around the room. “We’re in uncharted waters, but I promise you there’s no one better to navigate this than Professor Xavier and Dr. McCoy. You have the best of the best looking out for you.”

Hank couldn’t help himself. He turned on his heel, propped himself up in the classroom doorway, and crossed his arms across his broad chest. “Do you really think so, Professor Snow?” His deep baritone made everyone look his way, but none looked more startled than Sabrina herself. She hadn’t realized she had an audience for her class. A chorus of cheers went up from the students – Hank was arguably one of the more popular teachers at Xavier’s school – and with his political position he was currently a hot topic on campus. Hank regarded the students warmly before turning his attention back to Sabrina. “I apologize, Professor Snow. I didn’t mean to crash your class.” He held her gaze as he spoke, watched her take a deep breath before she forced a smile.

“Nonsense. You’re always welcome here.” Her tone told him he was actually not welcome at all, and a few of the students exchanged glances.

“Professor Snow, can Dr. McCoy join our conversation, too?” Kitty Pryde asked, glancing between the two of them. The younger woman was notably observant and direct.

Sabrina faltered for a moment, but then her mouth quirked up in a small smile. “Of course, Kitty. But I’m sure Dr. McCoy has many pressing items on his schedule. He probably doesn’t have the time.” She shot him a look that expressly told him to take the out she was offering. Instead, he all but smirked, pushing away from the door jamb and striding into the classroom like the cat who ate the canary. With amazing ease and grace he leapt in the air, somersaulted over the students heads, and came to stand next to Sabrina who was perched on her own desk.

“I’m never too busy for you,” he said to the class, but his eyes were on Sabrina’s. There wasn’t much she could do in front of the students without causing a scene; Hank knew it, she knew it, and he intended to take full advantage. “Now,” he said, projecting his voice and turning to face the kids. “What would you like to know?”

A number of hands shot up, and Hank chuckled. “What about you, Bobby?”

The younger man lowered his hand almost reluctantly, then said, “Are you going to get the cure, sir?”

Hank should’ve expected it, but he’d been too busy showboating and teasing Sabrina to consider the ramifications of this very serious topic. He probably looked as stunned as he felt, and for just a ghost of a moment Sabrina placed her gloved hand on his arm. “Bobby, that’s a very personal question,” she said gently.

“Yeah, but it kind of matters, right?” Kitty said. “I mean, if the teachers we’re learning from are considering getting it then maybe there’s some merit to it.”

Hank drew his mouth in a tight, firm line, and glanced over at Sabrina. “That’s a very good point, Kitty,” he said, rubbing his jaw. “If I’m being honest, I’ve thought of it, yes. I suppose every mutant with a visible mutation has considered it. It can be difficult when you can’t pass for a human. However,” he raised a finger. “There is still much we do not know about this so called cure. Will it last? Are there side effects? What else might it do to us?” He stepped away from the desk into the center of the desk-formed circle. “This cure has been released without – to our knowledge – long term testing, and perhaps questionable methods. I have been tasked with answering these questions, and more, and I will be leaving in a few days time to do just that.” He turned back to Sabrina, all seriousness and sincerity now. “I was hoping you might accompany me, Miss Snow. A talent like yours could prove invaluable to our team, and you have the credentials to back you up.” Sabrina’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open for a moment before she clamped it shut. He gave her a small, genuine smile. “Something to consider, of course.”

More hands shot up in the air. Hank took his time answering a number of them, some technical, some incredibly simple, but all important to the students before him.

“What if they come for us here?” A young girl by the name of Jenna asked. Jenna was relatively new to the school, and still finding her voice, figuratively and literally.

The room got very quiet, and Hank rose to his full height. “Then I assure you, dear girl, that would be a most grave error on their part.”

“Professor Snow?” Rogue had been quiet for most of the class, but now she raised her eyes and looked Sabrina in the eye. “Are you going to get the cure?”

Hank turned to see Sabrina take a deep breath, let it loose, and hop down from her perch. She moved around the desk to the black board and began writing. “Anthony Smalls. Three years old. Taken from his home for a million dollar ransom.” Her hand moved quickly as she spoke, the clack-clack of the chalk the only sound other than her voice. “Violet Henries. Six years old. Taken from her school to sway a jury. Jonathan Edwards. Three months old. Taken by a jealous ex-wife. Julietta Gonzalez. Twelve years old. Taken for trafficking. Robert Sweat. Thirteen years old. Also taken for trafficking.” She continued on with a list of names and ages accompanying them with a reason for the kidnapping. The class was quiet as she worked, and Hank watched her as a new level of comprehension descended upon him.

Sabrina didn’t stop talking until the chalkboard – at least what she could reach of it – was filled with names. She turned back to the class. “These aren’t even half of the children I’ve been able to return to their homes and families alive because of my abilities. Another dozen were found postmortem, and the ability to bring their loved ones home offered the families a sense of closure.” She put the chalk down, dusted off her hands, and walked around her desk. She removed her gloves as she did so, securing them in her dress pockets. “I cannot touch anything or anyone,” her finger trailed over a desk causing her eyes to faintly glow. “Without taking something away. Memories, thoughts, emotions. In some cases, even talents and abilities. This makes relationships difficult.” She brushed by Hank as she spoke, and he tracked her path with curious eyes. “I walk into a room and I immediately can sense the atmosphere. This makes crowds difficult. I can’t go to concerts or movies on opening night or many special events. But I can assess danger quickly, read a person’s intentions, and bring children home to their families. Our lives as mutants are not easy ones; I know Professor Xavier has drilled this into you in his Ethics class. Oftentimes what we think is a curse is actually a gift. Maybe not for us, but for someone else.” She pointed at the chalkboard. “If I can do that, what can you do?” She turned to Rogue. “I won’t be getting the cure, no matter how much I might be tempted. Someone has to keep the real monsters at bay.”

#fictober23 #fictober #fictober 2023 #my fics #ao3 fanfic #x men fanfic #hank mccoy #kelsey grammer #sabrina snow #the scent of roses #rogue #kitty pryde #iceman #my ocs #hank mccoy x original female character #fanfiction #fanfic

[cosmicjoke]

Nah, not really, I don't particularly care about AoT. You're the first person I addressed because it's against the unspoken "Tumblr etiquette" to tag something you are directly criticizing, so I am lecturing you. Also, um, why, am I wrong? Torture is a war crime. He is a torturer. Use of child soldiers is a war crime. He uses child soldiers. Multiple, seven, to be exact. Eren is a child, his ward, too, that he manipulates and beats up and on multiple occasions. Historia is a child and he throttles her (and manipulates as well). Jean is a child and he beats him up to the point of making him vomit. So, like, yeah, a child abusing war criminal, isn't he?

So you don't know anything about AoT. Good to know. I can criticize anything I want, too, so whatever. I'm entitled to my opinion. It was a mild criticism at that. I don't go around tumblr looking for people's negative opinions on things I like, but when I come across them, I just leave them be. People are allowed to state whatever they want on THEIR blogs. Following or not following some made up, arbitrary rules which aren't stated anywhere isn't a good enough reason for you to "lecture" me on anything. My blog, MY opinions, I can do whatever the fuck I want.

As to what you have to say about Levi, you're taking actions of his and presenting them in isolation, out of context, which is the refuge of people who have an agenda in wanting to push a certain image or narrative, and who in reality have no substantive argument.

You're judging Levi by today's standards of conduct in war as well, which is absurd, given the time period the story actually takes place in. HE doesn't use child soldiers. That was simply the system in place. One which he had no choice or hand in, in terms of decision making. All of those "child soldiers" were volunteers, besides, so no one forced them to join. He tortures a single person, yes, but then, moral ambiguity is part and parcel for all the characters in AoT. That's the point of the story, after all, that everyone is capable of doing "monstrous" things in order to do what they believe is right. Levi gives a huge monologue about this shortly afterward. And, once more, you're judging Levi by today's standards of wartime conduct, and not at all considering the fact that he was living on an island which was totally isolated from the rest of the world and which would have no context or basis for what would be considered within the "legal limits" of wartime conduct outside of the island. Torture was apparently perfectly legal according to the government in place in Paradis.

He beat Eren up to save his life. Again, you're taking Levi's actions out of context to paint an over-simplified and negative picture of him. You're wrong. He manhandled Historia, he didn't "throttle" her, he didn't beat her up or hurt her, and she had an obligation, as a soldier in the Survey Corps, to fulfill her duty as a soldier. Once more, you're taking Levi's actions out of context to paint an over-simplified and incorrect picture of his character. He kicks Jean and Eren to break up a stupid fight they were having. That's it. They're soldiers under his command. It's hardly unheard of for physical discipline to be employed when dealing with subordinate soldiers, especially ones who through their own lack of discipline and control may threaten the safety of the group as a whole. This was happening one night before they were all meant to go on the most dangerous and uncertain mission the SC had ever undertaken. And Eren and Jean were acting like self-absorbed idiots. Beyond that, Levi was in distress because of what was going on with Erwin, and Levi has a bad temper. It's one of his faults as a character. He's violent sometimes, because he grew up in violence. But that doesn't make him a child abuser, and it doesn't make him a war criminal. You want him to seem like some tyrannical abuser going around beating up innocent and helpless children out of nowhere, and for no reason, using language like "child abusing war criminal", again, wholesale statements made using actions taken out of context and in isolation, and statements which are just plainly false and a gross misrepresentation of his character.

But yeah, go right ahead and keep spouting your illogical and simple minded bullshit. Literally nobody cares. I don't go onto your blog and start shitting on whatever characters or story's you like. So why are you sending me anon messages doing so to me? All because I stated an opinion about a totally unrelated story on my OWN blog, and you decided I'm not allowed. Yippee.

#Levi Ackerman #Attack on Titan #shingkei no kyojin

[morlock-holmes]

So I have a question about your Bowling Alone discussion: why do you find it hard to arrange a game night? In my experience it's because everyone I'd do it with is already busy a lot of the time! You seem to be saying that everyone is lonely but also unwilling to do fun things for... Some reason?

Okay, Anon, fine, you goaded me into doing actual work instead of just half-remembering things. I hope you’re happy.

The following quotes and screenshots are taken from Bowling Alone chapter 6: Informal Social Connections:

“The bad news is that we are [connecting with each other] less and less every year. Consider some of the startling evidence of change over the last quarter century. In the mid- to late 1970s, according to the DDB Needham Life Style archive, the average American entertained friends at home about fourteen to fifteen times a year. By the late 1990s that figure had fallen to eight times a year, a decline of 45 percent in barely two decades. An entirely independent series of surveys from the Roper Social and Political Trends archive confirms both going out to see friends and having them over to our home declined from the mid-1970s to the mid-1990s (See figure 18 for details.) Yet a third archive (that of Yankelovich Partners) reports a decline of nearly one-third between 1985-86 and 1998-99 in the readiness of the average American to make new Friends.”

Then we are referred to Footnote 15, Page 458, which says

“15. The top half of figure 18 is based on DDB Needham Life Style data; the bottom half is based on Roper Social and Political Trends data. Because sampling and wording differ between these two archives, the two halves of figure 18 are not directly comparable, but the fact that two such different archives show similar declines in social visiting is all the more significant. DDB Needham Life Stye surveys also show that dinner parties (given or attended) declined from 7.1 per year in the mid-1970s to 3.7 in the late 1990s. Yankelovich Partners Inc. report that that agreement that “I have very little room in my life for new friends these days” rose from 23 percent in 1985-86 to 32 percent in 1998-99… Mediamark Research annual surveys show a drop of one-fifth between the early 1980s and the late 1990s in the frequency of “entertaining friends or relatives at home.” Finally, eight times between 1938 and 1990 Gallup pollsters asked about one’s “favorite way of spending an evening.” Over the whole period “dancing” and “playing cards and games” dropped sharply, and after the 1970s “visiting with friends” and “dining out” also dropped. “Watching TV” and “home with family” rose over this period, suggesting a cocooning pattern consistent with the Roper and DDB Needham data. On the other hand, because of changes in wording, I am less confident about the Gallup trends. (See George Gallup Jr., The Gallup Poll: Public Opinion [Wilmington, Del.: Scholarly Resources Inc., 1986] 104, 130.) According to the General Social Survey, the frequency of spending a social evening with “friends who live outside the neightborhood” more than once a month rose from 40 percent in 1974-76 to 44 percent in 1994-96. Of the six national survey archives that I have discovered with trend data on friendship over the last several decades, this is the only series that does not show significant decline. (Unlike other measures of friendship, this GSS metric is also inexplicably more common among men than women.) See also Robert J. Sampson, “Local Friendship Ties and Community Attachment in Mass Society: A Multilevel Systemic Model,” American Sociological Review 53 (October 1988): 776-779; Fischer, To Dwell Among Friends; Claude S. Fischer, Robert M. Jackson, et al., Networks and Places: Social Relations in the Urban Setting (New York: Free Press, 1977)."

Bolding mine.

Putnam, in Bowling Alone, doesn't address the niche hobby of RPG game playing, but as you can see some of the data he looked at was collected in a way that would be expected to measure time spent on games in general.

There's a left-wing and particularly rat-adj narrative where "atomization" is good, because it represents the triumph of chosen pursuits and chosen friendships over coercive groups such as the church.

But the data Putnam collected shows a decline even in purely voluntary social pursuits. He doesn't see massive increases in the prevalence of dinners with friends, time spent in gaming groups, etc, but rather a decrease in the prevalence of these pursuits.

And I get frustrated because the response is just blanket denial. @self-loving-vampire has sort of responded with "I feel like I do this a lot, which means that there can't be a downward trend."

It's like if I said, I don't know, cable subscription rates were down and a bunch of people said, "But I still have cable!"

Like... Who cares? I didn't say that nobody has cable, I said that rates were declining.

And denial doesn't come with different polling data, it's just a blanket denial. There must be a constant upwards trend in positive, voluntary social engagement because...

I really don't know why; I have yet to be offered any reason why the positive things that "Atomization" is supposed to bring must be actually increasing, there's simply this emphatic, committed declaration that it must be so.

It must be true that found families and voluntary connections have been getting stronger and more prevalent over the last half-century.

Why though? Why must it be true and how would you explain data which seems to suggest exactly the opposite? If we value these kinds of voluntary, found connection for their emotional and material benefits, then shouldn't we want to look at actual data about whether they are really increasing in prevalence and power? Shouldn't we be concerned about data that says that they aren't?

#bowling alone #discourse #friendship #atomization

[a-god-in-ruins-rises]

If you were governor of California how would you solve the homeless problem?

well, i think homeless is more of a local-level issue than a state-level one. i'm unsure of how much influence a governor would have. but let's assume i'm dictator because i think you are more interested in policies than the structure of government.

so first, i would survey the homeless. there are many causes to homelessness and many homeless have different circumstances and intentions. some are temporarily homeless and others are more indefinite and others are permanent. some are homeless because they lost their job, they're fleeing abusive households, drug addiction, mental health, physical disability, laziness, etc. sometimes it's a combination of these things. and so if we're going to address the homeless problem we first need to have good data on what the causes are so we can treat the root of the issue.

the next big step is shelter. in my mind there should be a graduated system of shelter. from concentration camps to rudimentary shelters to public housing and maybe subsidized rent for low-income hosing. where they go will depend on various factors (temporarily homeless vs chronically, high risk vs low risk, cooperative vs not, veteran vs not, etc). the concentration camp thing probably sounds alarming but honestly it seems reasonable to me. instead of having homeless scattered throughout a city they should be concentrated in a single area so that they are easier to manage and treat. it minimizes the harm they can do to other communities and maximizes our ability to help them efficiently.

so we categorize the homeless according to their circumstances (which we now know because of our survey), house them accordingly, and now we give them each the treatment or assistance that they need to address their particular issues; drug rehab, mental health treatment, counseling, jobs training, education, etc. drug dealers will be publicly executed in the center of the homeless camp.

finally, just some general ideas that i think would help address the homeless problem directly or indirectly: just making housing in general more affordable (building more homes, relaxing zoning restrictions, land-value tax, rent assistance, etc), more walkable communities, debt forgiveness, protecting domestic industry to create more jobs, a guaranteed jobs program, jobs training, higher wages and/or universal basic income, more wholesome and holistic approach to "family planning" (contraception, sure, but also incentivize getting married and having children, offer family counselling, couples counseling, financial assistance, family and community oriented leisure activities, etc), build more community centers and encourage/incentivize (maybe even mandate) extracurricular activities in school (especially youth organizations like the boy scouts), end mass immigration, mandatory militia service, more policing (including especially community self-policing), actually prosecuting and punishing/rehabbing criminals accordingly, encourage everyone but especially homeless to participate in community service, joining my cult, patriotic- and civic-oriented education that cultivates virtue, death penalty for drug dealers and drug traffickers and unlicensed drug manufacturers (and probably even some licensed ones. i'm looking at you, sackler family.), universal healthcare, nationalize the fed and restore the national bank and offer interest-free loans for productive purposes (equipment for your new business, a laptop for your new job, a car for your commute, buying a house, buying land you want to cultivate), etc.

i think that would be a start.

#i've always liked the idea of seizing vacant mansions #and turning them into public housing for veterans #but i'm not sure how realistic that is

[speed-seo]

Micro-Moments: Your Secret Weapon for Winning at Digital Marketing

Scroll, tap, scroll. That's us - looking for whatever we need in the moment. Need the best taco spot nearby? Grab phone, search, tap, get tacos. These I-want-it-NOW moments are called "micro-moments." And they're a goldmine for marketers who know how to grab them. Think about it... People turn to their phones to satisfy needs as they happen: - "Fix this kitchen faucet leak NOW!" - "Where can I rent a cabin this weekend?" - "Is this pain serious or nah?" In these micro-moments, we want quick answers. Not tomorrow, not in an hour - RIGHT NOW. So creating fast, snackable info for micro-moments is 🔑. But how? Image by LinkedIn Know Your Audience's Micro-Moments Get in their shoes! 👟 What info are they searching for? 👟 When do they need it most? 👟 Where are they looking? Research helps you guess their micro-moments so you can be there ASAP. Use Intent-Focused Keyword Research Plug keywords into tools like Google's Keyword Planner to see: - Monthly searches for that term - Related long-tail keyword ideas This reveals micro-moment intent and search trends. Tap Into Data Analytics Your website and social media analytics offer a goldmine of micro-moment clues: ✅ Traffic sources/landing pages show where people come from ✅ Location data reveals where searches happen ✅ Times/days of peak traffic indicate when intent is highest See what questions they're asking and pain points they have. Survey Existing Customers Ask them directly about their pain points and moments of need on your website, social posts, emails, and pop-up surveys. Questions to ask: - What problems/questions do you have before purchasing our product? - Why did you choose our brand over competitors? - When during the day do you typically research or shop online? Map Their Customer Journey Trace your typical customer's full journey. From initial research to final purchase and beyond, think about what they might need at each stage. This reveals potential micro-moments. For example, someone wanting to repair a device might: - Google "how to fix broken phone" - Watch a "replace iPhone screen" YouTube tutorial - Search "iPhone screen repair shops near me" - Visit your website for prices and availability - Book an appointment online Now you can create info to assist at each step! Check Out Related Searches Search for relevant keywords on Google and scroll down to "Related searches." This shows other questions people ask around a topic. If you sell gym equipment, "best home gym equipment" related searches could be: - Are treadmills worth it for home use? - How much space do I need for a home gym? - Can I finance home gym equipment? These become ideas for micro-moment content! Pro Tip: Look at search questions and map their journey for more clues. Satisfy Their Micro-Moment Needs Give them EXACTLY what they want in that moment: ⛔️ Don't make them work for it ✅ Do make it crazy easy to take action Create stuff like: - ⏱️ Short videos - 📰 Blog posts with lists/steps - 📱 Easy access on mobile Optimize EVERY piece of content to fit a micro-moment. Focus on Solving Their Problem Don't sell. TEACH and help! Give practical info to address exactly what they need right then. If someone wants to know how to treat a sprained ankle ASAP, provide first aid tips, not product pitches. Speak Their Language Use words and phrases they actually search for. If your audience says "damaged skin" not "skin lesions," write content accordingly. Give Clear Calls-to-Action "Click here to download the checklist," "Find a clinic near you," "Call now for a free quote." Make it obvious what to do next. Format Content for Quick Scanning - Use short paragraphs & bullet points - Add bold headings & subheadings - Break up text with images/video - Include captions explaining visuals - Link to related content Make it Ultra-Conversational Write like you're talking to a real person. Avoid formal, stiff language. Use contractions, emotions, humor - whatever fits your brand voice. Optimize for Mobile First Huge chunks of text don't cut it on phones! Make content easily consumable: - Short, scannable paragraphs - Minimum pinching/zooming - Buttons big enough to tap easily - Accessible drop-down menus Include Engaging Visuals Pictures, gifs, illustrations, infographics, slideshares, interactive elements. Use visual storytelling to inform and hook readers. Step-by-Step: Create the Perfect Micro-Content Follow this proven process: - Identify a target micro-moment and intent - Research keywords people search in that moment - Craft a highly specific, benefit-driven headline - Lead with the most important info/action step - Use concise paragraphs, bullet points, captions - Add visuals to explain and engage - Make scanning easy with formatting and highlighting - Close with a specific CTA based on intent - Promote to reach people at the right time - Analyze performance and refine Useful Micro-Content Tools - Headline analyzers to optimize for clicks - Readability checkers to improve scannability - Snippet optimization to stand out in search - Image creators like Canva for visuals - Stock media to add engaging photos/videos Tools that can help you create amazing micro-content: CategoryToolsHeadline & Title OptimizationCoSchedule Headline Analyzer, Upworthy Headline Generator, BuzzSumo Headline AnalyzerReadabilityHemingway App, Grammarly, Readable.comImages & GraphicsCanva, Piktochart, Adobe Spark, SnappaVideo CreationInVideo, Biteable, Adobe Spark Video, AnimotoGIFsGiphy, Gifmaker, KapwingSocial Media ManagementBuffer, Hootsuite, Sprout Social, SendibleAnalyticsGoogle Analytics, Sprout Social Analytics, Facebook Analytics, BuzzSumoSEO OptimizationYoast SEO, MozBar, SEMrush Page Optimization, SerpStat Snippet Tool Having the right micro-content creation and optimization tools can save time and energy while also enhancing the quality of your real-time content. Let me know if you have any other favorite micro-content tools I should check out! Micro-content example: How to Do a DIY Phone Screen Repair Cracked screens happen to the best of us. But phone repairs can be expensive. Luckily, you can fix a cracked iPhone or Android screen at home for less. Here are the step-by-step instructions: With the right parts, some patience, and these tips, you can save money and time by DIYing it. [/article> Formatting your micro-content for quick consumption is crucial. Promote Your Micro-Moment Content You created amazing content...but will people see it in time? Get it in front of them RIGHT as they have a need: 🔎 SEO helps them find it when searching 📣 Social media ads target micro-moments 📧 Email subscribers contextually relevant content Optimize for SEO - Include target keywords in headlines, text, alt text, URLs. - Localize content with city names, zip codes, etc. - Publish location-specific content on relevant pages. - Research keywords for each micro-moment topic - Optimize pages/posts for those terms - Include location/time modifiers people search Someone may search "oil change near me this weekend." Are you there? Case Study One of our clients, a law firm increased mobile conversions 300% optimizing location pages for "injury lawyer Limassol," "personal injury attorney Limassol," etc. Retarget Site Visitors - 87% of website visitors aren't ready to convert at first. - Retargeting grabs their attention as they visit other sites. - Display relevant ads, offers, or content they already showed interest in. Send Contextual Push Notifications Timing is everything. Notify mobile app users with: - Cart abandonment reminders - Relevant offers when they're nearby - Appointment confirmations - Order updates - Recommendations based on past purchases Personalize push message content to each user. Satisfying micro-moments wins trust and conversions. Are you ready to grab them? Let me know your favorite micro-moment marketing tips below! Run Social Ads During Key Times - Identify high-intent times based on past analytics. - When do most people book appointments or buy certain products? - Target social ads to reach them RIGHT then. Send Triggered Emails - Segment your email list based on: - Recent purchases - Page views - Abandoned carts - Send hyper-targeted content based on their micro-moment Retarget Site Visitors Use pixels or cookies to track website visitors. Then retarget them with related ads as they visit other sites. For example, retarget "how to fix drywall" page visitors with DIY tips across the web. Personalize Website Experiences with Micro-Moments - Greet return visitors by name - Recommend products based on past purchases - Show content relevant to their location The more tailored to each micro-moment, the better! Monitor Performance See which micro-moment content resonates most. Find out: - Where is it getting the most traffic from? - What times/days perform best? - Which keywords and ad placements work? Keep fine-tuning to maximize your reach! Satisfying micro-moments wins trust and conversions. Are you ready to grab them? Let me know your favorite micro-moment marketing tips below! Read the full article

[warystares]

✘ CLOSED / ft. rosie d'angelo ( @proeliums ) on the faceless ship / the second level

the moment remington luck makes it past the SECURITY posted at the entrance of the ship, the jacket he's secured his name tag for the evening to is shrugged from NARROW shoulders, thrown with no shortage of IRRITABILITY over one as he quickly disappears into the crowd. and really, the whole idea of it is BULLSHIT if you ask him ― what's the point of anonymity if the folks around you've still got a way to address you ? and maybe he's just a little bitter because of his particular moniker, but he thinks that's JUSTIFIED too. who the fuck decided he'd be the GRIFTER anyway ? that's just bad for his image. scowling, he makes his way through the ship with little other purpose in mind than the gathering of intel ; every visage he can identify through the ornate cage of a mask, every name tag kept visible for insatiably inquisitive eyes. there's a DRINK in hand the moment opportunity strikes, but it's nursed far too long to remain palatable and so, somewhere amid his meticulous prowling of the ship's second level, he breaks off in search of another bar.

it isn't a DIFFICULT feat by any means ― liquor flows here tonight with all of the commercialized & pre-packaged grandeur of bellagio fountains, spraying far & free ― and remy has quickly abandoned his watered-down cocktail on the nearest empty service in favor of another. now he's walked off a bit of his temper, he might actually be more inclined to ENJOY it. discovering the frustrating task that is trying to gain another's attention when NOBODY has peripheral vision and his own expression is entirely CLOAKED has him pressing palms into the counter, resigned to WAIT until he's noticed by the busy bartender. always on the HUNT, even when stuck standing stagnant, remy surveys the rest of the crowd populating the bar. no one of any real import ― not that the theme of the night makes that EASY to gather ― until an icy gaze lands on the patron directly to his left. there is something familiar about her, and it does not take long for realization to dawn on an already impatient remy. ❝ oh christ, you're kiddin' right ?! don't i get enough of you on a normal day ? now i gotta deal with you in my leisure time too ? ❞

#✘ remy luck | conversation #✘ remy / rosie 001 #proeliums #i hope this is okay !! hi my name is lenny and i'm actually the Worst at starters

[sustainedscreaming]

is there a reason why no one has common sense anymore?

rant under cut

this is about online customer service.

it is my first day back after a 10 day vacation. i am beyond burnt out, i took the vacation time all in one go to hope it would help, but it did not.

first of all, it costs 0 to be neutral to customer service agents. im not asking for "hello! thank you so much for your help! i want to rate you 1000/10 on your survey!" all i am asking for is that you give me more than 20 seconds to type out a reply to you, and for you to realize i am a human being. belittling me does not get you above and beyond service, it gets you flagged no more compensation, and piss poor customer service.

also Stop Typing Like This. You Aren't Quirky, This Is Hard To Read, And It Doubles How Long It Takes You To Type. same with emojis. I don't 🚫 really care 🤷‍♀️ that you want 🎁 free merch 🛍👠👗🧢 because your package 📦 was delivered 🚛 while it was raining ☔️ and the box got wet 🌊.

second of all, just give the agents the info they ask for. no more, no less.

if you tell me youre pretty sure your package was stolen, that can and will be used to deny your claim.

if i tell you that the address you just provided me was not used on the order, giving me the same address four more times does not help either of us.

if i ask you to clarify what package you are missing and you say "the first one", that unfortunately, tells me nothing.

if you order more than one of the same item in a different colorway or size, telling me the items name does not actually tell me what item you are referring to.

if i ask for six pieces of information, each on their own line break to make it clear exactly what im asking for, i should be getting those 6 pieces of information back from you. not 4 and two half pieces of information. i asked for your full name, that means first and last. i asked for your complete address, not just the city, state and zipcode. this is for your security. not to be malicious.

this especially goes for inventory inquiries. i work for a fashion retailer as online chat. we aren't in store. we aren't local to you. everything on our website has like 3+ different tiers of sizing, hundreds of colors, and hell, even hundreds of design variations within the same model. not to mention hundreds of store locations. thousands even.

all i ask for is product number, size, and a complete store address. i never get all three in one go.

"ugg slipper in six" the fluff yeahs? the tasmans? the nuemels? what color, since theres 10+ each for each model above. size 6? 6 womens? 6 grade school? what store? we have 800 under one banner alone?

"nike tech fleece black large" the hoodie, the sweatshirt, the half zip, the full zip, the joggers, or the shorts? which version of the black? theres all black, theres black with white logos, theres black with red logos, theres black with white screen printing? size large? large what? large womens, large mens, large grade school, large toddler? what store?

"timberland 6 inch black at inkster" aight. 6 inch what? the field boots? the waterproof? do you want iridescent black, sparkly black, black with red laces, black with black laces, all black? what store? theres two inksters, and theyre 9 hours apart.

do you know what answers all those questions? giving the product number, size and a complete store address.

if you give a product number, that tells me EXACTLY what item you want. so instead of ugg slipper size 6, instead it tells me ugg tasman in color chestnut in womens sizes. so the size 6 is no longer a guess between women's and kids sizes, since the gender size is tied directly into the product number. its no longer a guess to what color, because the color is tied directly into the product number. and obviously, if you give me a complete address, its no longer a guess if you want inkster in michigan, or inkster in new jersey.

again, im not asking for this information because i dont want to do my job. i am asking for this information because only you know the exact item you want, in the exact size that you want at the exact store you want. why would you want me to play 20 questions to have me guess if the item i picked out for you is correct, when you can give me the correct item from the get go.

third of all, i should not have to repeat the same questions ive already asked you multiple times in a row. nor should i have to repeat the same information i have already given to you because you didnt read my message in the first place.

if im collecting information for an IT ticket, or to even just access your order, and you do not have a piece of information that i need, just say that. "i dont have x piece of information." "i did not receive my order number so I cannot provide it" "i do not have wifi at home, so I cannot provide my wifi IP address"

do not string me along, having to ask you the same question 40 times in a row because you just dont have the common sense to say "i dont have that"

or when people give me bits and pieces of information, and when i ask for the rest they get mad "well i gave it all to you." no you didnt. scroll up to my last message. all 6 pieces i need are clearly outlined along with directions on how to find each piece of information. i asked for 6 pieces of information, and you only given me the word "iphone" and a diatribe on how much you hate biden.

which leads into customer not reading my responses. 9/10 times my response covers everything you currently need to know, and everything to expect in the future, so you dont have to contact back and ask again.

but instead, customers will read say the first 6 words of your reply, and skip the rest, or skim the rest and create their own narrative.

"why was my order canceled"

"it was declined by payment verification. you money will return to your account in 3-7 business days. this does not include weekends or holidays. here is some trouble shooting you can try, we recommend trying a different payment, and verifying that the info you provided to us is the same as on your bank as well."

3 days later

"my money still isnt in my account and its been 3 days" your order canceled on friday and it is now monday, there has been approx 0 business days that have passed.

"the bank says my information is correct" you put your name as only emojis and you put two separate addresses in separate states on address line 1 and address line 2. i 100% you lied about asking your bank.

"but i used *one recommended payment method* and it didnt go through" you used ONE of the recommended payment methods, and recommended does not mean your order is guaranteed to go through.

"why did my order cancel again" literally scroll up, you mustard packet.

conclusion: just use your brain a little. treat us as a human. realize we have no ability to change company policies no matter how much you belittle us. and when an agent asks for a specific list of information, just give it. for you, its 30 seconds of inconvenience having to type out your zipcode. for us, its 8 hours of inconvenience because we have to ask for this information multiple times in a row to every customer we get. read agent replies completely, as they probably already answered your question 3 messages ago. help us help you.

pps, we more likely to compensate you or break company policy for you if you are nice or even just neutral. i have comped people solely on not being a piece of shit to me, and even i broke policy today and took a return 80+ days past time frame because they gave me all their info the first time i asked and werent obnoxious about the mixup.

#long winded rant on how stupid customers are #read at your own risk #or dont

[annphanh]

Are polls accurate?

There is currently a lively political discussion in the media about the potential introduction of a wealth tax in New Zealand. According to a recent poll conducted by Newshub Reid Research: "Would you support the Government introducing a wealth tax?" The results showed that 53.1% of respondents answered yes, while 34.7% opposed it (Lynch, 2023).

Tax policy is a complex topic that involves various stakeholders, including the government, corporations, and our fellow citizens. The government plays a crucial role in determining tax policy, but it also faces the challenge of striking a balance between generating revenue and ensuring fairness in the tax system. Businesses and citizens, who are directly affected by the tax system and have valuable insights, also have an important role to play in shaping tax policy.

Interestingly, despite being a frequently discussed topic during election seasons, none of the political parties in Aotearoa have actually implemented a wealth tax. However, the fact that it continues to generate public interest and debate raises questions. Perhaps this is because of the growing wealth inequality in New Zealand, with a small percentage of the population holding a significant portion of the country's wealth. This disparity has led to calls for a wealth tax as a means of addressing this imbalance and promoting a fairer distribution of resources. Additionally, discussions around a wealth tax may also reflect broader debates about the role of government in addressing social and economic issues and the potential impact that such policies could have.

So what does the media have to do with this?

This is the question that has been on my mind. The media plays a vital role in shaping public opinion and influencing government decisions. Through their reporting and analysis, the media can draw attention to issues related to tax policy, educate the public about its implications, and ensure that both the government and businesses are held accountable for their actions. Additionally, the media can foster informed debates that contribute to the development of fair and effective tax policies, as well as influence how people perceive the system and their support for change by providing a platform for diverse viewpoints and expert opinions.

Therefore, a poll was conducted to gauge the public's opinion on the tax problem. This survey revealed the extent to which wealthy taxpayers in Aotearoa are considered essential. Moreover, it demonstrates the deep involvement of people in political matters. However, I believe that since the survey was released in the media, people could easily be swayed to agree with the majority. This means that if one proposal receives a higher vote than the other, people may be more inclined to think that it is a good idea. Conversely, if a majority of respondents disagree with a specific policy, this could lead them to believe that the policy is even more harmful. Polls can also be used to capture voices in the public realm mediated by the media. For instance, if a poll shows that a majority of people support a particular program, the media may be less likely to cover those who oppose it. (Lang et al., 1984)

The 2016 US presidential election is a great example of how surveys, political debate in the media, and the mediated public sphere are connected. Many polls leading up to the election showed Hillary Clinton ahead of Donald Trump in the race. The media also presented the election debate in a way that supported Clinton, highlighting themes that would resonate with her supporters. But then Trump somehow won the election! Some media sources were accused of favouring one candidate over another. For instance, Fox News was accused of favouring Trump, while CNN was accused of favouring Clinton. While media coverage of the 2016 US presidential election had a negative tone for both Clinton and Trump, there were noticeable differences between the two candidates. The media's coverage of the election was controversial, with several candidates, campaigns, and supporters claiming bias against certain candidates and causes (Bradlee, 2016). This resulted in a widespread lack of trust in the media's objectivity and raised concerns about the impact of biased reporting on public opinion. Despite these accusations, it is important to acknowledge that media outlets have a responsibility to provide fair and balanced coverage, enabling us to make well-informed decisions.

Overall, it's important to note that public opinion has become more polarised in recent times. People tend to gravitate towards news sources that align with their own beliefs and values, creating an echo chamber effect. This can further contribute to the distrust in media, as individuals may be less inclined to seek out diverse perspectives and question their own biases. Therefore, media organisations must prioritise transparency and accountability in their reporting.

#Te Waha Rangatahi

[alyssum-may]

FC 24 Coin Generator

Hey there, fellow gamers! My name is Tom, and I've been an avid FIFA Ultimate Team enthusiast for as long as I can remember. I understand the excitement and the frustration that comes with building your dream team, especially when you're tight on cash. In this article, I want to share my journey and a remarkable discovery I made: the FC 24 hack, also known as the FC 24 coin generator. It has completely revolutionized my Ultimate Team experience, and I'm here to guide you through it.

The FC 24 Dilemma

We've all been there. You spend your hard-earned money on FIFA Points or packs, hoping to pull a legendary player who could turn the tide in your Ultimate Team. But more often than not, you end up with a stack of mediocre players, contracts, and fitness cards. It's disheartening, especially when you see your friends or rivals flaunting their star-studded lineups.

The Turning Point

One day, while scrolling through forums and YouTube videos in search of ways to improve my Ultimate Team without draining my wallet, I stumbled upon the FC 24 coin generator. Skeptical at first, I decided to give it a try, knowing full well the abundance of scams out there promising free coins and points.

To my astonishment, it actually worked. I was able to generate FC 24 coins and points without spending a dime. But before I delve into the details of how this works, let's address the elephant in the room – is it safe and ethical?

The Ethics of FC 24 Hacks

As gamers, we value fair play and sportsmanship. Using cheats or hacks that harm the integrity of the game is never our intention. However, the FC 24 hack doesn't exploit or harm other players. It merely helps you accumulate coins and points more efficiently, leveling the playing field for those who can't afford to splurge on in-game purchases.

Understanding the FC 24 Hack

Now, let's get into the nitty-gritty of how the FC 24 coin generator actually works.

Online Tools: These hacks are typically online-based and require no downloads or installations, ensuring your device remains safe from harmful software.

User-Friendly Interface: Most FC 24 coin generators come with an intuitive user interface, making it easy for gamers of all ages to navigate.

Proxy and Encryption: These tools often employ proxy servers and encryption to safeguard your account from being flagged or banned by EA Sports.

Resource Generation: You input your FIFA Ultimate Team username, select the desired amount of coins and points, and hit 'Generate.' The tool then does its magic and adds the resources directly to your account.

Human Verification: To prevent abuse, some generators may require you to complete a simple human verification step, like a survey or captcha. This is a small price to pay for free coins and points.

Helping Fellow Gamers

Now that I've experienced firsthand how the FC 24 hack can change the game for budget-conscious gamers, I feel compelled to help others in a similar situation. Here's why you should consider using it:

Save Real Money: By using the FC 24 coin generator, you can save your hard-earned cash for other real-life expenses, while still enjoying a competitive Ultimate Team.

Accessible to Everyone: It levels the playing field, ensuring that gamers who can't afford in-game purchases can still compete with the best.

Enhanced Gaming Experience: You can finally build that dream team you've always wanted without the frustration of endless pack openings.

Conclusion

In a world where microtransactions can sometimes overshadow the joy of gaming, the FC 24 hack offers a glimmer of hope for young gamers aged 12 to 20 who want to enjoy FIFA Ultimate Team without breaking the bank. Remember, it's important to use this tool ethically, without disrupting the enjoyment of others. With this newfound knowledge, you can take your Ultimate Team to the next level and embrace the excitement of building your dream squad, one free coin at a time.

So, fellow gamers, go ahead and try the FC 24 coin generator – it might just change your Ultimate Team experience for the better. Happy gaming!

[indiejones]

'INDIA'S CENTURY-OLD RESERVATION & CASTE-DISCRIMINATION SCAM'-

Indian caste politics, began somewhere in early 1900s, ie ~100 yrs old.

(The most detailed statistical analysis from 1820's, documented in Prof Dharampal's legendary book 'The Beautiful Tree', based on British surveyor Adam's painstakingly researched Reports, shows how all states in India, except for female education (which btw has taken off everywhere in the world, not just in India, only in last 100 yrs) had a thriving schooling system with ~1/4th school-going kids of Bharat, & 1/3rd kids incl the vast sums receiving education at homes, being well schooled in all the important areas of learning of then. Further, a school generally present per 500 male students, with Brahmin kids accounting for on avg only 15%-20%, rest vast %s of school-going kids belonging to Shudra, Vaishya, Kshatriya, & Muslim communities!.. And twas only 1860's on, when Indian education came directly in hands of British, that they removed the rent-free nature of indigenous school, thus effectively killing basic free education in India, made all more advanced subjects a matter only for 'higher' (read monetarily expensive) education, & when asked what of the other lesser well off students, were told "such communities don't need such education", thus birthing the huge education caste divide, first in idea, & then in policy (by forcibly writing people's castes based on occupation in their surveys of early 1900's, & denying higher edu based on it), a policy that's carried on in India since then!

👇

https://archive.org/details/TheBeautifulTree-Dharampal/mode/2up?view=theater )

Now this caste-based politics birthed from the British's education caste divide, & nurtured in Independent India thereafter, is a direct lift from USA's 250 yr old 'Critical Race Theory' ie the TACTIC of reinforcing division in people based on LOWER & HIGHER BLOOD, as opposed to what it actually is-

A difference in ECONOMIC POSITION in society.

Most people who've seen India at reasonably close quarters, know how people from different so-called castes in Hindus, within the same area of upbringing, don't look diff or better enmasse,or don't talk diff or better enmasse,..but yes, they may wear & eat & live different enmasse.

What does this observation,which can be repeated as many times as wish,at different places,& over diff sample sizes, provided under the same criteria of selection, & give same results, tell you?

That CASTE IS FUNDAMENTALLY A SUBCONSCIOUS ECONOMIC CONSTRUCT.

And till Indian people, as society decide to not treat it as such, will keep getting played by politicians, who're always looking for 'easy block votes' anywhere in the world.

They will keep calling u 'shoshit vanchit samaj', knowing full well that they themselves are doing ur shoshan,by purposely not addressing the root cause for ur being 'vanchit', namely your opportunities for livelihood or occupation.

Do u know that this whole 'reservation' hoopla, accounts for only 8% of the total occupations opportunities in India?

Do you know that 80% occupation in India, is carried on in the primary sector, ie agriculture, manual construction, & animal husbandry, requiring no formal education as such!

Yet we've kept hearing about this ''shoshit vanchit samaj' before every election for past 75 yrs, from mouths of politicians, who know the facts I just mentioned before you & I did!

Do u know?

Korea before division into North & South, & China before Communist revolution, also had the very same varna-differentiation , based on their occupation- scholar,defender,farmer/trader,& laborer.

Yet both managed to not deviate it to, blood/capacity division Ie To people assumed to thence born only with a mind, or a hand, or a leg!

& Look where S.Korea, following the same unadulterated fundamentals, is, in just 75 yrs, the most prosperous nation on earth, while we, the originators & creators of these fundamentals, languish towards the bottom!

'CASTE-DISCRIMINATION' IN INDIA, IS 40% 'AN ECONOMIC CONSTRUCT', & 60% ITS BIGGEST ABETTOR, 'NOT POLITICAL CONSTRUCT BUT A POLITICIAN-CREATED CONSTRUCT'.

& EVERY POLITICAL PARTY IS IN ON IT!

COZ GIVES THEM EASY EMOTIONAL TRIGGERS TO CREATE MORE & MORE DEPENDENCY BLOCKS, & LESSER FOCUS ON KEY ECONOMIC INDICES OF PROGRESS.

& TILL POLITICAL PARTIES OFFICIALLY ANNOUNCE, TO ABANDON ALL CASTE & 'SHOCHIT' TALK,& ONLY FOCUS ON 'VANCHIT'..WILL CONTINUE TO BE OUR,YOUR & EVERYONE'S BIGGEST 'SHOSHAK'.

& WE THE PEOPLE, WILL KEEP STAYING 'RESERVED..FOR A ROYAL SCREW OVER'.

[caitlin666]

Why Are Romantic Relationships So Pushed In Teen Girl Magazines?

Romantic relationships, or more specifically heteronormative romantic relationships are constantly pushed in so many teen magazines and teen websites/blogs. Let's talk about it.

Enormously popular and highly successful, women’s magazines and teen magazines represent the largest segment of the U.S. consumer magazine industry. Circulations range from 500,000 to more than 1 million. Containing advice on everything from diets and exercise to how to dress and use make-up, and how to attract men, women’s magazines play a socializing function through the stories they tell in columns, features, and advertising. Readers encounter and then may imitate cultural myths of identity. Women’s magazines particularly fill in the contours and colors of what it means to be a woman and how women should relate to men.

In December 2016, an online opinion piece headlined "Donald Trump Is Gaslighting America" appeared in Teen Vogue magazine. Within hours, the harsh indictment of the then-president-elect exploded on the internet: Comments sections erupted in debate, and egg-avatars trolled the writer, Teen Vogue Weekend Editor Lauren Duca, on Twitter.

But it wasn't just the subject of the article that caused the uproar; it was the nature of the publication that ran it. What was a political piece doing in a teen magazine?

"There's definitely a mode of stealthy condescension sometimes," she told Mother Jones about the reaction to the piece. "Other versions of the Tucker Carlson comment: 'Her last post was about Selena Gomez's makeup.' " But, she said, "it's possible to like both those things".

Yes, it is possible to like both makeup and politics, fashion and feminism. And yet, the last thing most people expect from a teen girl magazine is substantive articles or opinions on the issues of the day. Teen magazines are supposed to be about clothes and glamour and summer jobs and relationship advice, right? Actually, wrong.

Teen magazines today "are introducing girls to feminism that isn't bra-burning, which is also cool," she says. "But you can be feminine and a feminist".

Paging through contemporary teen magazines, readers may be struck by the seeming "hipness" of the images. The pictures feature pert, smiling, predominately white, middle-class, young women dressed in the latest fashions. The teenaged models look confident and in control. In short, they imply agency, the ability to do as they choose. However, researchers have found this image to be at odds with the messages carried in the magazines.

In 1974, only ‘Teen, Glamour and Mademoiselle directly and openly addressed the issue of sexual activity and sexuality through such topics as sex and the single scene, infidelity, pregnancy and abortion, venereal disease, “his body,” and bust exercises. YM and Seventeen spoke more implicitly, focusing on the dating game, dating etiquette, abusive boyfriends, kissing, love letters, going steady, surviving a breakup, and being a loser on the dating scene. By 1984, all more openly addressed male/female sexuality and sexual relations.

The setting for the sexual relationship dance between male and female teenagers is rarely named or described in teen magazines. Sex appears to occur whenever and whenever possible. Implicitly, Finders (1997) found teen magazines help young women identify the nature of their new adult community, as well as the other actors. In the magazines we surveyed, there are two actors in this sexual drama: the "guy" or boyfriend and the "girl." The most prevalent questions were: What are guys like? What do guys want from girls? How should I behave around guys? Overall, men or "guys" are characterized as users and controllers within the community, while women or "girls" are characterized as negotiators of their own use.

In teen magazines' girls are assumed to be, quite simply, in the process of "becoming." Girls are never right just as they are. This vision takes on added importance in light of the Gilligan, Lyons, and Hanmer (1987) study which found adolescent girls see themselves as becoming someone in relation to other important persons in their lives, such as their mothers or teachers. Gilligan et al. argue that many girls submerge their individuality and sense of identity in favor of becoming what someone else wants them to be. They found it is the rare girl who maintains her sense of self if it conflicts with what she perceives to be the sense of self promoted by important others. Our analysis finds teen magazines encourage girls to become what significant others, in particular, “guys,” want them to be.

Health and relationship advice columns, supplemented and complemented by fictional stories and features on sexual issues, encourage young women to become sexual objects whose lives are not complete unless sexually connected with a man. Girls can earn a man first by recognizing the traditional interests ("affection" and "company") and training of women (to be "ladylike," "neat" and "polite,") (Rubis, 1984) and second, through the changing of self as they negotiate their way through sexual encounters and relationships. Young women achieve the latter by being better informed than guys about male and female physiology and psychology; by attracting guys through good-looking hair, beautiful clothes and thin bodies; and by developing sex and relationship skills. As Seventeen advises: “If you see someone you like or who seems interested in you, let yourself glow. Take a chance. Bring yourself to flirt. Play a little. That’s what flirting really is: part of a game between men and women. (What’s wrong with games?)”

In teen magazines, guys simply "are." Guys need to know only themselves and, because they "are," they need not worry about "becoming" men or achieving power or status; they already have it. According to ‘Teen, because they possess these qualities, guys are "allowed to be wild," have "fewer restrictions," and to focus more on "impressing buddies" and "group bonding" than on relationship and communication skills.

Ironically, these male ways of being, while depicted as regrettable, are not shown as lacking worth. While the advice columns overtly guide young women to accept men as they are, further guidance comes from other parts of the magazine, in particular, the celebrity biography and photo spread. In teen magazines "guys" are set up as ideals or poster boys meant to be treated by young women as icons: someone to placate, adore and manipulate. This ideal, two dimensional male is presented as the type of "guy" who can fulfill the "girl's" dream, standing in for all men for young women trying to understand and know men's wishes, needs and behaviors.

Magazines tell young women to be ready and willing through the standard articles and advertisements on "sexy outfits," "sexy hair he'll love," and "passionate fingernails." They encourage girls to "shape-up" for that "sexy swimsuit he'll love" and to eat right for that "healthy" and "sexy" glow.

Within this vision, young women are told they must lose weight, learn about sophisticated sexual techniques, apply make-up well, dress sexily, and engage in self-analysis when (not if) their real world does not fit with the world depicted. This serves the purposes of the magazines well, to sell advertising. Female deficiency is needed in order to maintain advertising sufficiency. Editorial content that promotes knowledge about issues such as AIDS, abortion, and pregnancy do not fit advertisers’ profiles of deficient women (Steinem, 1990). As Sassy, and Ms., found out, magazines that put women first do not prosper with advertisers. They fit neither the vision nor the community.

But is this changing? Heteronormativity and romantic relationships are constantly pushed in teen magazines and teen media, but is it changing? Some teen websites are focusing much more on makeup, fashion, politics, and pop culture rather than relationship advice, and when it does focus on relationship advices, the words and terms are more gender neutral, making it more LGBT+ friendly. Plus advice for queer and questioning teens is much more prominent in these similar publications. I have also seen a few articles in these same publications focusing on prioritizing friendships and that "romance" isn't everything. Teen magazines—canonized as packed with dating tips and eye candy for young, heterosexual, female readers—have gone queer. More specifically, mainstream teen titles are slowly shifting toward pages and websites full of LGBTQ voices and visibility, reflecting a broad consensus that in order to survive, broadening their editorial perspective beyond a traditionally heterosexual readership isn't just good business, it's imperative to reach teens today.

"For the past year or so, we've made a concerted effort to limit (and, eventually, banish) heteronormativity from all of our content, especially as it pertains to matters of sexual health and relationships," said Phil Picardy, Teen Vogue's digital editorial director. "Rather than assume our readers are hooking up with or dating men, we use gender neutral pronouns in almost all contexts. Our readers have appreciated the shift, and often help police our language to be more inclusive via social media and [website] comments, which we welcome." The shift isn't limited to magazine websites: LGBTQ folks are visible throughout the pages of Seventeen. In 2014, the magazine dropped the "Guys" from its "Love & Guys" section, and has since made an effort to use general neutral terms when discussing relationships, subbing in "your crush" or "bae" for traditional, gendered terms.

"We want Seventeen to be a magazine where all girls feel represented and included, regardless of their sexual identities," said Joey Bartolomeo Seventeen's executive editor. "We always knew that not all of our readers were into guys, which was reaffirmed when a study came out earlier this year saying that only 48 percent of Gen Z-ers consider themselves exclusively heterosexual." Bartolomeo also noted that readers may have LGBTQ parents and friends or be dating queer teens, which Seventeen accounts for as editors continue weaving LGBTQ topics into the magazine in an organic, helpful way.

While mainstream magazines still have many more improvements to make, progress is evident in pages dotted with LGBTQ faces and voices, inspiring momentum throughout the media for better and more comprehensive representation. "I hope for both our present and our future that somewhere there's a teenager who picks up a copy of Teen Vogue, opens it up, and can see themselves positively represented, and feel affirmation in that recognition," Picardi said. "And I hope that feeling gives them the courage to live their most authentic lives."

So why are romantic relationships so pushed in teen magazines and teen websites? Some may say because its a normal part of growing up and teens need help and guidance to navigate these situations. Other people think it's unnecessary because teens can focus on other things, like friendships, hobbies/interests, schoolwork, family, jobs/internships, and so much more. Me? I'm personally unsure. If you want a relationship, get one, if you don't want one, don't get one. At the end of the day romance isn't necessary to live life. Let me know your thoughts below.