miss risk

its been so long but im still trying to figure out how you could go from “i love you” to “i don’t care about you anymore” in such a short amount of time

10 things for those writing about people who are blind/have low vision...

So…finishing up my portfolio and I just thought I’d share a few things:

1. Person first language: people who are blind/ people who have low vision/ people who are visually impaired. However, keep in mind not everyone likes first person language or identifies as such. It’s a lot of politics and where you’re located, and tends to be tied to professions.

2. It’s a cane… not a stick

Side note: Please have your characters be safe travelers and use canes or guides some of the time, not just super powers all of the time. It’s hard enough for some young kids to use their canes without comparing themselves to Kanan Jarrus or Daredevil…

3.You don’t get super senses… but maybe you become more aware of what you’re sensing and differentiating what you’re sensing

4. As far as I’m aware and according to people I’ve talked to…touching faces is awkward and not effective

5. People who are congenitally blind may not turn to look at who’s talking because it is a learned skill that may need to be explicitly taught to them. However, people who become blind/lose their vision later in life may still turn to face who’s talking or face things that they are focusing on regardless of whether they can see it

6. Some people turn their heads at angles or appear to be looking away from you because they only have vision in that part of their eye that’s currently facing you. They can’t see you if they look straight on.

7. When you can see, you learn things whole-to-part. You, who are sighted, see a house, you think house. Then you learn door, window, roof, chimney, shutters etc. If you can’t see, you learn part-to-whole, and you need to rely on touch/hearing/smell/taste (when appropriate) to form a concept of something you might learn like this: door, smell of home, window glass, window frame, brick of a chimney, panels on side of the house etc. But then putting in all together as a house is difficult to conceptualize if you’re going off random pieces of the puzzle. You may need a tactile model or something to fill in the gaps if it’s something you’ve never seen and can’t touch in its entirety.

8. Cane stuff: Not everyone taps their cane when they use it. Most that I’ve been with don’t or if they do, they do not use it all the time. Think about it. You miss a lot of tactile feedback and there’s a greater risk of missing things to trip on. There are three types of formal cane techniques: two-point touch (the classic tapping side to side), constant contact, and verification technique. The first two the cane is held at the center of the body and the person moves it from side to side wide enough just so that it goes past their hips. As they move it to one side, their opposite foot steps forward. This gives someone the most protection when moving. Verification technique is when the person holds the cane low in their non-dominant hand and uses constant contact as they see possible obstacles/terrain changes in their path.

9. Counting steps is a myth. People don’t take even steps generally. Sometimes it’s easy to count doors if it’s a small number. But if you’re at school and you have to travel across the building, are you really going to count 20 doors? What if you bump into something and lose count? You’d have to start all over. Most people create landmarks for locations. It could be something like the door with the only bulletin board in the hallway. Or the door with the water fountain next to it. Or the door that is one door to the left directly across  from the water fountain. Another thing here, is that you can kind of feel when you’re getting close to somewhere you’ve traveled to before. Like when you’re driving home and you feel like it’s been a while and your turn should be here, when suddenly the turn is here! That’s called time-distance estimation.

10. Most people are not totally blind. Only 2% of the population is visually impaired and only 2% of the population that is visually impaired is totally blind no light perception. This means that most people who are blind/visually impaired/have low vision can see something, and everyone is different and reacts different to their visual impairment and how they use the vision they have. 

This got long and slightly ranty, which was an accident… but I hope someone finds it useful. And now that I have this off my chest, remember creative liberty is a thing :)

8

Whoniverse: Class Appreciation Week – Day 4 – Favorite Theme: Inverted Tropes

Charlie is the white male protagonist–the alien prince without a people.  This is meant to be his tragic backstory.  She’s just the terrorist who attacked his people.  And yet…?  This becomes her story.  She is a freedom fighter against an oppressive regime.  The ‘tragic prince’ is the heir to a morally questionable monarchy.  He is not the hero (nor is she the villain) one would expect.

I’ve thought long and hard whether or not to make a post. Spirits are high right now and I don’t want to add fuel to fire or make anyone uncomfortable, but I see this sense of ending near and it tugs at my heart.

My birthday is on Sunday and it seems it now has turned into a complete different thing altogether. I’m sad for the news but at the same time I’m one of the people that is looking forward to see what a season 7 might possibly bring. It probably won’t be everyone’s cup of tea and that is more than ok.

If the show ends for you on Sunday, please know that it has been a pleasure to be in this ride with you.

If you’re going to stick around for a possible season 7, I’ll be here for you to come talk about with me.

I love this fandom… there were many times where I felt out of place, or disheartened or even hurt, I’m not going to sugar coat it either, but overall, this had been a place where I have been able to pour down myself over the past 2 years and half.

I started writing again because of Captain Swan. I did gif stories for the first time in my life. Fuck, I even dusted out my pinterest account to make aesthetics posts. I wrote 50k words in a month. I finished more stories than ever before and I still have so many more to write. I’ve read so many wonderful fics and I have so many more to read. I have a house full of bracelets, notebooks and mugs with CS art! I designed tea blends.

Jesus, I got people writing Liam Jones smut!

I’ve met so many wonderful people - some of them even in real life! – with whom I’ve talked not just about the show but about life and family and politics and so many things. I’ve went through heavy crisis myself and had some of you lift me up.

We’ve done so much as a fandom, even coming together to raise money for causes that were important to us. This is what I’m going to remember when time goes by. The ship will still be there to watch on screen, but I much rather keep the memory of all of you with me.

Whatever happens, whether you decide to stay or go, thank you for everything. Thank you for being here for the good and the bad. Thank you for being just you. I’m still here and I will be here if the show remains. And I will be here to continue paying homage to the OTP that brought us together.

<3

Remember, today, that people put themselves in harms way so that we do not have to. Remember that people fall, only to be carried by others they hardly know, so we can stay here, safely in our beds. Remember, that people stood up against unimaginable evil, time and again, so its spread could be halted, its flame extinguished. Remember, today, those who do not see their families for months, years, and then never again, so we can be with ours. Here’s to them, to all they sacrificed and missed, to all they risked, for us. Happy Memorial Day. #memorialday

I’m not them,” you say. “I’m not who hurt you.”
I touch your face tenderly, cupping your cheek.
“Okay. Then who are you?”
“Someone who is deeply, irrevocably in love with you. And you know what? I don’t give a shit. If you hurt me. If I hurt you. And that’s the difference, you know? Between me and them. I love you more than the fear. I’m willing to risk it. I’m willing to fucking pour my heart out to you- right here, right now, when there’s a very real chance you’ll get up and leave and never talk to me again. And maybe I’m stupid for doing this, but I can’t… I cant hold it in anymore. Every time I look at you, you grow more and more beautiful until I can hardly stand it, so fuck it. If you ruin me, if I ruin you, who the fuck cares about the consequences, about the future? Does it really matter if we both feel the same way? Fuck the idea that wreckage can’t be gorgeous. I think the treetops are grateful for the hurricane that rips off their leaves. Goodness, I think they dream about it. I think thy fucking crave it, because for a single, wind struck moment, they get one inch closer to really living. And fuck, I’ll be the leaves this time around. Do you think I care? I’d set myself on fire to see the flames that dance in your eyes. So if you love me, fuck the fear. Fuck the fear. I may not be worth everything, but damn it, I’m worth more than the pain those assholes left you with.
—  ap (12.28.16) im not who hurt you
What to Eat While Writing

Anonymous asked: “Might be a weird question but do you have a favorite writing snack? Something that fills you up when you write but doesn’t make you gain 10 pounds every 100 words…”

This is such a great question! The thing about writing is that it often becomes a habit. You get into some “writing rituals” and some times they can quickly turn into bad dieting decisions. I’ve been there. I used to write with a bag of Lindt chocolate truffles at my desk and - well, I ate the whole bag. I didn’t even realize it, I was writing and just suddenly, the bag was empty and I had a terrible stomach ache. I recommend avoiding that one. 

Keep reading

Imagine Chris helping you take care of your little sister.

A/N: I know it’s been a while, I’ve been suffering from good old writer’s block. Anyway, here’s a piece. I think there may be a part 2 to this, but don’t quote me. We’ll see how the response for this one is. X

Your little sister, Olive, watched cartoons in your living room with your boyfriend, Chris, while you stood in your kitchen on the phone with your mom. The two of you were in the argument of your life thanks to the actions of the youngest member in your family. Your eight year old sister had managed to ditch school after her nanny dropped her off, and somehow found her way to your apartment which was two hours away. As upset as the two of you were at her, you couldn’t help but be amazed by her; she’d only ever been to your apartment with the company of another adult, how she remembered the directions and the address was beyond you.

“Do you think you can watch Olive for a few hours?” Your mom asked and you sighed. “I know you’ve got a big meeting later, but I’ve got a client coming in in about fifteen minutes and your dad’s still operating. I’d send Zoe, but she’s clearly fired after today.” You tried to get a word in but she interrupted, “it’s just a few hours, Y/N.”

“Mom, I can’t risk missing today’s meeting,” you argued. “It’s down to me and-”

“I know, sweetheart,” she said then sighed, “look. I promise I’ll be there before you have to go, I just have to take this client and I’ll cancel the rest of my day. Just give me a few hours,” she told you and you sighed again. “It’s too bad Chris is in Houston, otherwise he could help babysit Olive. He lives for that stuff,” she chuckled softly and you did the same; that was true, he loved her.

“Actually-” you began then winced when you remembered both of you had wanted to keep his return a secret. He had come back a week early to surprise you and he had told no one so he could spend the week with you with no interruptions, but desperate times. “Chris got back early to surprise me, his plane landed at like four in the morning.”

“Great, do you-”

“Mom,” you frowned, “did you not hear what I just said? His plane landed at like four in the morning, he’s exhausted and he needs some sleep. Just-” you ran a hand through your hair; your stress levels were starting to build up. “Finish-” Chris snatched your phone out of your hand before you could say anymore.

“Hi Mom,” Chris greeted your mom, smiling at you even though you were frowning at him. “Thank you, it’s really good to be home. Can’t say I miss your daughter’s angry face though,” he poked your side and your lips quirked slightly. “Don’t worry, I’m more than happy to watch Olive. No, it’s fine. I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to take a nap with me,” he joked then chuckled at something your mom said. “Sure, we’ll talk to you later.” With a smile, he hung up.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you told him as he put the phone down on the kitchen counter. “I know you’re exhausted.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “She’s not your responsibility, Chris. She’s my sister and-” He cut you off with a quick peck on your lips.

“She’s going to be my sister when I marry you,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours; you smiled at the thought of him proposing after being together for four years. “Relax, okay? I know I said I was going to sleep while you were at your meeting, but I can sleep when I’m dead.” You chuckled at that. “C'mon,” he took your hand and led you out of the kitchen and into the living room. “She thinks you’re mad at her and I know you’re not, so go tell her that.”

Olive was still sitting on the couch with her eyes glue to the television, but you could tell from the guilty look on her face that she hadn’t been watching Tom&Jerry. You and Chris stood in the archway and watched her; you were yet to decide if you were upset with her. It didn’t take you long to decide because this was your baby sister, no matter what she did or said- there wouldn’t be a day where you wouldn’t have a soft spot for her.

“Are you mad at me?” Olive sheepishly asked, looking over at you. You sighed with a small smile as you made your way over to her. “I’m really sorry, Sissy. I know you had a big meeting today, I just didn’t-” You knelt down in front of her as her pretty brown eyes welled with tears. “I’m so sorry,” she started to cry.

“Don’t be, sweet pea.” You took her small hands in yours. “It’s only a meeting, okay?” You lied to her, “I can always reschedule.” You pulled one hand away and lifted her chin with your index finger. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. It’s not important, it’s just a meeting. You’re okay,” you brushed her tears away with your hand.

“But Mom and Dad both said that it’s important,” she sniffled. “They said it’s about big movie deal and that if you miss it, you’re going to lose the job and get into big trouble with your agent. I knew that and I still came, I’m so sorry. I’m going to ruin your career,” she wept and your heart ached.

“She’s not going to miss her meeting, bug.” Chris walked over and sat down next to Olive, wrapping a comforting arm around her small frame. “Don’t worry, she’s going to go to her meeting and you’re going to hang out with me. It’s okay,” he gently rubbed her arm. “Hey,” he said and she looked up at him, sniffling. “Your sister’s career is not that easy to ruin, she’s dating a dumb dork and she’s still one of the highest ranking actresses in Hollywood.” He joked, drawing soft giggles from Olive, and a chuckle from you. “There’s that smile,” he poked her cheek and her giggles became louder.

“Why don’t you tell us why you ditched school?” You asked and saw her facials contorted with angst. “We can’t help you if you don’t tell us, Olive.” You told her when she looked hesitant to tell you and Chris; she glanced between the both of you, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

“You’re friends with Captain America for a reason, bug.” Chris whispered in her ear and she managed a small smile. “Whatever it is, I promise you that I will do everything in my power to protect you. Just tell us what happened,” he gently urged.

Her head dropped and she whispered softly, “everybody thinks I’m weird.” She looked up and continued, “they all think it’s impossible that I’m your sister. Nobody believes me when I tell them, they say that we are nothing alike and that I’m lying when I say I know you and Chris. But I’m not lying, Sissy.” She lowered her gaze and mumbled to herself, “I’m not lying.”

“I know you’re not,” you chuckled softly, lifting her chin so you could meet her gaze. “How can it be a lie when we’re right in front of you?” She smiled when you booped her nose. “Baby, people are going to say what they’re going to say. You can’t stop that, but you can stop letting it affect you. It doesn’t matter what they think because you are my sister and you do know us.”

“Yeah,” Chris nodded. “You’re the one that gets to come to our premieres, you’re the one that gets to hang out on our sets, you’re the one I carry on my shoulders at football games and have tickle fights with.” He reminded her, playfully tickling her sides and making her laugh. “Not your school mates,” he told her, smiling. “So who cares what they think? They’re just jealous they don’t have the same opportunities you do. Just keep your head up, play it cool, and it’ll blow over soon.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “And if it doesn’t, I think Captain America and I can drop by and pick you up after school one day.” You suggested and she looked between the two of you with a wide grin. “Can’t we, Cap?” You winked at him and he winked back, nodding. “That’ll show them, won’t it?” You asked Olive and she nodded excitedly. “But you have to promise me something if you want that to happen.”

“Anything,” she nodded.

“Don’t ever do something like this again,” you told her with slightly narrowed eyes and she lowered her gaze sheepishly. “What if something happened to you on your way here, Olive? You’re eight years old, someone could’ve just grabbed you off the street.” You scolded. “This was a very stupid thing to do, you know that right?”

“I know, but-” she looked up, trying to argue but was cut off by your glare; Chris pressed his lips together, suppressing his smile because it seemed like that glare of yours worked on anyone. “I know,” she mumbled, lowering her gaze once more. “I won’t do it again, Sissy.”

“Good,” you softened your facials. “To be honest, I’m more impressed than upset. How on earth did you find your way here by yourself?” You asked as you rose to your feet; your eyes narrowed when you saw your boyfriend and your sister share a knowing smile. “Is that why your bagel run took so long, because you drove two hours to pick her up?”

“No, it took so long because the line was ridiculously long,” he stuck with his story and you shot him a weary look. “And I had to wait for Scott to drop her off,” he added then pressed his lips together. “What?” He chuckled when you scoffed. “She texted me and told me she didn’t want to go to school, I mean- have you ever seen me say no to you Y/L/N ladies? Scott was in that area so I asked if he could pick her up and drop her off.”

“How did you know Chris was coming back?” You asked Olive.

“Because he told me he was coming home early to surprise you,” she giggled. “He’s also-”

“Uh uh,” Chris cut her off, laughing, his hand over her mouth. “You’ve said too much already.”

“What are you talking about?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” Chris smiled. “You should go get ready for your meeting, don’t you also have some emails and whatnots to attend to?” He quizzed and you nodded, narrowing your eyes at his odd behavior. “Go on,” he beckoned his head towards your home office. “We’ll be fine, we’re just going to watch some Tom&Jerry. Right, Olive?” He asked her and she nodded, noising agreement into his hand.

“Whatever,” you chuckled softly and made your way into the home office.

In the living room, Chris and Olive discussed out of your earshot. “She has no clue you’re going to propose, does she?” Olive asked her soon-to-be brother-in-law, giggling. “I am so excited!” She squealed, hopping off the couch. “When are you going to do it? Can I see the ring? Please, Chris? Can I see it?” She jumped up and down; Chris laughed and rose to his feet, picking her up with one arm and spinning her.

“How about you quiet down before you ruin the surprise?”


Here’s Part 2 and Part 3

Casino Night - Tyler Seguin (Part 2)

A/N: I’m really enjoying writing this, so I hope you enjoy reading just as much. Again, English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

Word Count: 1319

Warnings: None, I think.

Part 1

Originally posted by tylerseguin-stars

I walk around, not quite sure if I need air, a shot of tequila, sleep for a year or someone to slap me. I feel stupid, to be honest, like I was a freshman who is starstruck by the senior quarterback. Tyler has got under my skin way too easily and I don’t like it. I’ve always been hard to impress, way too sassy, it’s difficult to keep my attention… and now I can only think about this guy I met less than two hours ago and that I know nothing about.

After walking around without direction I decide that it is time to find (Y/F/N) and getting the hell out of here before I start banging my head against the walls out of embarrassment. She is where she said she was gonna be, playing roulette and being the life of the party.

“C’mon, Miss Luck! Take some risks!” The guy I assume it’s Jamie Benn is yelling at my friend when I get to the table. God, I literally know nothing about the Dallas Stars and I make a mental note to investigate about them tomorrow.

“Having fun?” I ask her from behind, scaring her.

“Omg, (Y/N)! Don’t do that! I could have die” She scolds me and I laugh, kissing her cheek.

“I think you will live another day” I say, looking at the table “So, what’s your bet?”

“I kind of want to go for a number, but there is no way I’m getting it, right?” She whispers

“Just do it!” I cheer her and she pulls out her best smile before grabbing a couple $100 chips and putting them on the number 14.

Jamie looks at her closely and smirks “Good choice”

The little ball starts spinning around the roulette and I hold my breath, actually anxious about my friend losing $200 on a game. It seems like it is taking forever for the ball to stop and I can’t help but to shut my eyes before it does. I hear my friend laugh and I open my eyes to see the ball on the number 30, right next to the number 14.

“It wasn’t meant to be” she says and I put my arm around her shoulders.

“You still look bomb” I try to comfort her

“Cheers to that” Jamie says from across the table and my friend blushes until she looks more like a tomato than a human being.

“Shall we go?” She looks at me with puppy eyes and I realize that she is trying to not think about all the money she has lost.

I nod and we wave goodbye at Jamie as we walk to the elevators, ready to take a cab and leave the casino. We donate all our chips on our way out and the lady gives us an envelope.

“They are tickets for the next home game” she explains and we just take them and walk out.

The drive is quiet and my head can’t stop thinking about Tyler. I try to make a mental list of all I know about him; he is a hockey player, he plays for the Dallas Stars, he was drafted five or six years ago, he used to play for the Bruins…and that’s it. I know nothing more of this guy. I have never been too interested on the players’ personal lives, not even the Red Wings players, so I don’t know where he is from, his family, etc… Maybe it is for the best.

The ride feels shorter that it really is and before I know it I am home. I take my heels off before climbing the stairs to my apartment. My feet ache and I’m quite sure I have blisters all over my toes… ugh, gross.

My apartment is small but cozy. It has a decent size bedroom, a bathroom, a small kitchen, a living room and my favorite part, a nice terrace where I have a small table and tons of plants. The color scheme is simple, light blue, light grey and white. Everything is perfectly coordinated and my red dress doesn’t go well with it, so I walk to my room and change to a pair of leggings and a white sweater, feeling more like myself as soon as I do. Don’t get me wrong, I’m comfortable with my body, but the dress was just too much for me…I’m more of a pair of jeans and a nice top kind of girl. I walk back to the living room and sit on the couch, pulling my white faux blanket over my body as I grab my laptop from the coffee table in front of me.

“You are gonna regret this, dum-dum” as I get in the browser and type Tyler Seguin on it.

There are thousands of websites talking about Tyler Seguin and I spend what it feels like hours reading articles about him. Apparently, he is a good player but he is also known for his love for partying. I keep reading, learning about his trade from Boston to Dallas due for his attitude outside the ice and how it seems like he has calmed down and matured since his arrival to Dallas. I smile watching a video about his charity Seguin Stars, which is incredibly kind of him. I might have watched the video of his ESPN body issue too, but I will deny it if you ask me.

I yawn and I realize that it is pasted 2am and I probably should head to bed sooner rather than later but, as much as I love hockey, I didn’t start looking into him because I wanted to know his stats so I push myself and I type girlfriend next to his name and hit enter. I spend ten minutes scrolling through websites until I shut my laptop and frown, feeling like the biggest fool on Earth.

{Tyler’s POV}

“Tyler, I would’ve bought you that drink”

That sentence is playing on repeat in my head. I can’t believe that I didn’t come back with something witty to say. Man, I can’t believe I didn’t even get her number or instagram. God, I can’t believe I didn’t even ask her what her name is.

I hit the wheel of my Ferrari with the heel of my hand out of frustration and I speed, needing some sort of distraction from her. She knew who I was, but she wasn’t impressed and that was refreshing. I’m too used to girls throwing themselves at me and I just have to choose my favorite and the rest is done, but this mysterious girl wasn’t having it. A challenge, I haven’t had one of those for a while.

I get to my new house and park the car inside the garage before walking in through the door that leads to the kitchen, where pair of happy labs greet me.

“Hello boys” I coo to my sons “have you been good?” as I push Cash away before he ruins my Tom Ford suit.

They follow me to the kitchen, where I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and get a couple treats for them as an I’m-sorry-I haven’t-been-home gift. I walk upstairs to my room, knowing that the dogs will follow me as soon as they are done eating and walk into my closet, taking my suit off and hanging it next to a couple of pieces of clothing that I need to take to the dry cleaner. I walk to my bed and get under the covers when I hear the boys racing upstairs and hooping on the bed, getting comfortable next to me.

“You two are sooooo spoiled” I whisper to them and they just look at me like they own the place. They probably do.

I turn to my side, this girl still stuck in my head as I drift to sleep.

TL:DR @ bottom

Fuck District Managers. 

So I have a sleep disorder. It’s pretty bad at times and I had to get a note from my doctor saying it’s extremely dangerous for me to work if I am on one of my down cycles.

Luckily I have enough tricks and things that I have come up with between my doctor’s recommendations and personal experimentation that I can, even during one of my down cycles, usually manage to get enough sleep to stay out of the danger zone. ( I try not to take my sleeping pills unless I have the next day or two off because I am solid dead asleep for at least 14-20 hrs straight and I don’t want to risk missing my shifts).

I have only called out 5 times in three years of working there. Only twice because of being dangerously sleep deprived. The second time was 2 days ago, which happened to be during one of our DM’s surprise store visits 

Now my doctor’s note is in my employee file. I had called around and gotten my shift covered before I called out to my store manager. My ass was as covered as I could make it. 

Imagine my surprise to go into work and find a formal write up for skipping work.

From the DM.

Who would have seen my doctor’s note saying I MUST be allowed to call out for sleep if I get to the level I got to when he went in to put my write up in my file and been told by my manager that I responsibly made sure my shift was covered before I called out. 

According to my SM the DM’s reasoning was that if I was going to “make shit up to be lazy” then I would “have to be made aware of the consequences of [my] actions”. 

I hope he has a run of sleepless nights like the one that ended with me in the hospital getting diagnosed and then I get a chance to tell him that he’s obviously just making it up to be lazy. Ass. 

TL:DR: medical necessity required me to call out for a shift which I made sure was covered. DM gives me a formal reprimand for “laziness”

Something Unspoken Part 2

You guys, Part 1 is my most popular post so I have to say than you so much for the feedback it means the world to me. I hope you guys like part 2 just as much, and let me know if I should make a third, and most likely final part!

Words:

Something Unspoken Part 2

I have to wait a few days before I can see what Peter has planned for our date. The day after our little encounter we had to speak with the Nova Corps about another mission which takes about a week before we’re finished, and even after we take a few more to ourselves; our energy completely wiped from the consecutive fighting. I had to get involved at one point, fighting off a band of rouge officers that had been a larger group than expected meant Peter had to reluctantly hand me a gun in the middle of battle. I still remember the look on his face as he opened the secret door underneath the hull of the Milano as he came to fetch me.

“We need every person we can get out there. Can you do it?” I remember him asking.

Keep reading

I think I just posted the first fic for a fandom on ao3? 

this is so wild. (unless I was actually just too stupid to find the correct fandom to sort it into?)