Maria Tudela has worked as a cleaner in the same building in Midtown Manhattan for the past five years, starting her shift at 5:30 p.m. and working until 1:15 in the morning.
It used to take her about 40 minutes to get to her home in Jackson Heights, Queens, but in the past few months, she says, subway service has become increasingly unreliable. Now, it takes hours for her to get home, and she’s even been forced to walk across the 59th Street Bridge at 2 a.m. just to catch a train that will take her home.
Speaking through a translator on a phone call on Thursday, Tudela said she now gets anxious every workday, thinking about how she will get home.
Tudela’s case is because of the increasingly overcrowded and unpredictable service that has plagued one of the busiest subway systems in the world for the last several months.
The problems, while they affect Metropolitan Transit Authority riders all over the city, are hardest on vulnerable New Yorkers who desperately need reliable mass transit in order to get by. Read more (7/21/17)
The Transition of Author to the Host (Markiplier Ego What-If)
I was once known as the Author. My real name is of no concern; I write under this pseudonym as knowing my identity would inflict great risk on my person.
It was a title bestowed upon me, with powers with unforeseen consequences.
My eyes could see the future. My hands can write the events I want to control. My voice can bring it to life.
I was gifted.
I was powerful.
I had the ability to control life, but I had to write it down and read it aloud for it to happen. I could manipulate so many things, and the power that I grasped- it was overwhelming to a normal person. I saw so many possibilites to an event, to a human, yet I could choose what reality can happen. From the infinite realities, paradoxes and parallels, I could twist someone’s life and make it the way I want.
I loved every second of it.
So many books, I published. People loved it. They tell me, “it feels so real”. They don’t know it is. Naive fools, they were.
Looking back to it, I would not blame them. I succumbed to this power as well. When characters start to rebel, you feel like you’re losing hold. Yet I am the Author. I was not go down so easily.
It was a mistake. It was a mistake that I shouldn’t have done yet I did due to sheer arrogance and pride. I looked at my future and its infinite possibilities. I readied my pen beside me and decided, “Out of all lives I could control…I could control mine, and make my life the best. Twist everything into my control, let it spiral into my palm, and hold it with an iron grip.”
I should’ve seen the repercussions of my actions without using my power.
With how I was and the path I was taking at the time, I was connected to everyone else; even those who weren’t even born yet. Those who even had died. I looked too far. Spiderwebs of millions of possibilities for each human and event on this planet that I will try to take control of. The things I saw… It drove me crazy.
It wasn’t only my end that I saw. It was The End. I know of the saying that "All things die eventually” but at what cost? I was not cruel to every one. I was only cruel to the characters that had that storyline. To destroy humankind? What a disappointing ending. Cliche, and I did not become famous because I was cliche.
It was horrifying to see myself that way. Yet I couldn’t turn away. I doomed the world, wasn’t I pathetic? What had gone into me? What was going on with me?
Power had driven me to the deep end. I was doing my first step just by doing this, this horrible, unforgiving, neglectful, inconsiderate act!
And then, I knew what I had to do. I looked at myself, and made a decision I never thought I would ever do. I went to my writing desk, lost in my thoughts.
These eyes…. these eyes that made me see the future.
These hands that helped me write one’s life down.
This voice that brought the stories into reality.
I had to change the course of this world’s horrible ending, myself be damned. I had to write, write, write, write everything down.
I wrote endlessly. Planning the best course of action, for the best ending. I had to search the world and see who to control best for this world to be saved. My hands ached, begging for rest. I didn’t pay attention to it. They screamed in agony, days upon days writing. I steeled my nerves and continued.
My eyes, my eyes that saw the futures, they watered, dried up, and bled. It was a disgusting mess to even stop to tie a strip of cloth around my eyes to cover them, and it was even more revolting that I had to replace and wash it all the time. The blood, they went everywhere when they fully soak the cloth. It was only through the years that I have spent writing was I able to accomplish my goal.
My voice, silenced, as I conserved my energy. White noise filled the room, and I realized how alone I am. So many characters yet no one that I really know of. So many characters yet they rebelled against me, angry at me.
The book, the last book I had to finish. The book that I know by heart. The book, that I know, even if I was not reading it directly, was already embedded on paper. The course of the world controlled by selected prominent figures. My plan to change the path that I had destroyed into a better one.
My eyes, bleeding endlessly, through several stained bandages wrapped around my head.
My hands, writing endlessly, a mangled mess, now resting on weary arms, never able to write anything anymore.
A sacrificial act by my own hand? What a surprise. A twist that I did not see. I have to hand it to fate, or maybe destiny, or just plain old, cruel life. You truly have made a perfect concoction of the definition of a cliffhanger.
I was done. Finally done.
A relieved sigh escaped me. Hopefully by the choices that I wrote down, a better ending will be achieved. All is left for me to do is to let the key players do their own part of this massive game, these series of programs of life.
All is left for me is to be the Host.
By this point, everything is a cliffhanger. . . . I opened my mouth, and spoke in a voice not louder than a whisper. “Brought forward in order to confront a rising crisis, a man organizes a meeting….”
Ah, yes. Manspreading: the delicate art of men splaying out their legs in public spaces to take up as much room as possible.
The phenomenon is thusly named because men tend to be its biggest culprits, a detail that hasn’t been lost on Madrid’s transit authority, whose officials recently announced a new initiative to put an end to the habit.
According to CNN, new signs are set to appear on Madrid’s buses, depicting a cartoon man intentionally taking up more than one seat with an “x” in the top corner. Read more (6/9/`17)
When asked why she is little known and why everyone thinks only of Rosa Parks, Colvin says the NAACP and all the other black organizations felt Parks would be a good icon because “she was an adult. They didn’t think teenagers would be reliable.”
She also says Parks had the right hair and the right look.
“Her skin texture was the kind that people associate with the middle class,” says Colvin. “She fit that profile.”
As she told The Guardian in 2000, “It would have been different if I hadn’t been pregnant, but if I had lived in a different place or been light-skinned, it would have made a difference, too.
After Colvin’s arrest, she found herself shunned by parts of her community. She experienced various difficulties and became pregnant. Civil rights leaders felt she was an inappropriate symbol for a test case. Words like "feisty”, “mouthy”, and “emotional” were used to describe Claudette while her counterpart Parks was seen as calm, well-mannered, and studious.
Colvin was one of four women plaintiffs in Browder v. Gayle, the court case that successfully overturned bus segregation laws in Montgomery and Alabama.
In 2005, Colvin told the Montgomery Advertiser that she would not have changed her decision to remain seated.
“I feel very, very proud of what I did. I do feel like what I did was a spark and it caught on.”… "I’m not disappointed,“ Colvin said. "Let the people know Rosa Parks was the right person for the boycott. But also let them know that the attorneys took four other women to the Supreme Court to challenge the law that led to the end of segregation.”
In 2013, Colvin was honored by the New Jersey Transit Authority for her part in the fight for civil rights. At the event she declared, “That was one of the first successful stories of how African Americans stood together united and got this law changed, so I’m so proud to be here to tell everyone my story. I can say—like James Brown—‘It feels good!’…. to get recognition.”
Colvin’s story is missing from our official history is an insult to the courageous women and young people who helped change the course of our country.
Give us some toshinko recs? Bonus for Dad Might :)
Ahaha, okay, thank you!
I find them more easily on AO3 than on Fanfiction dot net since the latter does not have a character filter option for Midoriya Inko at this point in time.
But yeah, I got a few here.
No Trouble - by FlameEmber is currently my favorite when it comes to the fluffy feels. It’s an AU where All Might’s secret is discovered by Inko, and when Izuku is still very young. Ask my friend @krazy-kaitie, I wrecked her with this one.
Shoes - by Swiftwidget is also high on my favorites. Not an AU this time, but expands on Izuku’s real father Hisashi, as well as the father-son relationship between All Might and Izuku. Hints of angst, but mostly fluff, with traces of original plot going on. It can also be found on Tumblr.
Heroes are for Fiction - by Lady_Mischievous is a little different from the others in that it’s a Real World AU where Toshinko is a writer, and All Might is the main character of his novels. Toshinko is really only hinted at so far, but it may come into play as it updates, who knows. Word of warning, this one gets a little dark, but the author transitioned the characters into this AU really well.
I have more, but they’re mostly one shots, so I’ll leave you with these for now. Thank you again for asking, feel free to chat with me over them if you want, Anon!
On this day in music history: July 18, 1981 - “Double Dutch Bus” by Frankie Smith hits #1 on the Billboard R&B singles chart for 4 weeks, also peaking at #30 on the Hot 100 on August 15, 1981. Written and produced by Frankie Smith and Bill Bloom, it is the biggest hit for the singer, songwriter and musician from Philadelphia, PA. The nephew of legendary comedian and actor Pigmeat Markham (“Here Comes The Judge”), Frankie Smith becomes seriously involved in music while attending college in Tennessee. Upon returning to Philadelphia, Smith boldly walks into Philadelphia International Records and asks to meet founders Kenny Gamble and Leon Huff. Frankie tells the pair that he wants to work for them. Impressed with his bravado and drive, Gamble and Huff hire Frankie to work as a staff songwriter. While working there, Smith meets fellow songwriter Bill Bloom, who become fast friends and collaborators. They eventually leave PIR to work at WMOT Records. Prior to working at WMOT, and needing work, Frankie applies for a job as a bus driver for the transit authority. Having gone through the ins and outs of the hiring process, they don’t call him back. Smith and Bloom come up with idea for a rap song, having heard Philadelphia school kids speaking an updated form of Pig Latin slang while playing the jump rope game Double Dutch. Certain that they have a potential hit on their hands, they try to convince the label to let them record it. Initially resistant to the idea, eventually WMOT relents and allows them to record the song at the end of a session with Fat Larry’s Band (“Act Like You Know”). Still irritated by his recent encounter with the bus company, that is also incorporated into the lyrics which are mostly improvised on the spot. The initial vocal on “Double Dutch Bus” is laden with profanity. It is re-recorded to make the track more “radio friendly”. Released in February of 1981, the record becomes an immediate smash at street level and in clubs, before eventually making its way on to radio. Like the success of The Sugarhill Gang’s “Rapper’s Delight” and Kurtis Blow’s “The Breaks” before it, “Double Dutch Bus” becomes another instance of where rap music and hip hop culture bridges the gap between inner city street culture and mainstream suburbia. It makes history by selling over a million copies in both 7" and 12" single formats, becoming the first single since Barbra Streisand & Donna Summer’s “No More Tears (Enough Is Enough)” to achieve that sales plateau. In spite of his huge hit, Frankie Smith sees little in the way of actual financial reward. WMOT fails to pay him royalties which lead to tax issues with the IRS. Eventually, WMOT is shuttered when a federal investigation reveals that the label has long been a front for laundering drug money. The song is later sampled on a remix of Bomb The Bass’ “Beat Dis” and Missy Elliott’s “Gossip Folks”. “Double Dutch Bus” is certified Gold in the US by the RIAA.