#But I merely have money to buy something form the US

[therizossinhh]

I'm so so happy, recently I found someone selling two plushies of Aishas here in Spain and I instally bought them. In Europe and more concretely here in Spain, they isn't much Neopets merch (well.... actually nothing at all)

They were really really cheap so that's why I could bought them ;w;!!!!

I'm thinking of making for them crochet clothes like, silly outfits, I will be posting some when I make one!

[imjustasimpxd]

Something Old, Something New

(Chapter One)

➬ Ken Sato x Fem reader

Summary : At first glance, Ken Sato seemed to have it all. With money, fame, and success surrounding his name, there was nothing he couldn’t get his hands on. They say money can buy happiness. That may be true to an extent, however, can money buy forgiveness? Unfortunately for Ken, no amount of money and influence can turn back time and change the past. No amount of bribery can erase the fact that he had chosen to abandon his wife in favor of pursuing his baseball career. That awful decision he made took place five years ago, when he was just starting out as a professional athlete. But now that he’s matured and had time to reflect on his actions, can he hope for a chance to rekindle his marriage? Or should he accept defeat and live with the consequences of letting the only woman he’s ever truly loved slip away from him?

Word count : around 2,500 words

Warnings : mentions of abandonment and neglect, arrogant Sato, sad reader, mentions of regret, angst

Author’s notes : comments and reblogs are appreciated!! I appreciate all feedback on my writing so that I can know what you guys liked and what you think I should improve on

Disclaimer : this is a work of fiction and should in no way, shape, or form, be taken seriously.

Side Note : This fic, and everything else I’ve written on my blog is mine and only mine. I work very hard on everything I write so do not, under any circumstances, modify, copy, or stela my work.

Ken Sato. Looks, wealth, talent, charisma, and confidence rolled into one good looking package. 

The mere mention of his name was enough to cause an uproar of fanatics screaming and shouting in excitement, as if they were a pack of wolves howling at the moon. 

Though he was mostly known for his impressive baseball career, being named one of the most eligible bachelors in sports didn’t hurt his credibility either. If anything, playing the part of the charming ladies’ man only increased his popularity, especially to any of his adoring fans that were women, which most of them were.

After becoming one the biggest celebrities in both Japan and American sports, there weren’t many people who were ignorant of a household name such as his. Every man wanted to be him, and every woman wanted to be with him. 

To the public eye, Ken Sato seemed to have it all. But looks can be deceiving, can’t they? Especially when it comes to a man who’s spent years hiding his true feelings behind a veil of humor and charisma. 

No one could know how much he was struggling to keep it all together, or the depths of the affliction eating away at his heart. He was Ken Sato after all, and Ken Sato wasn’t weak, he was a legend, and legends never died, they prevailed. So, he must too.

No matter how much the reporters hounded him, using every possible tactic they could think of to pry into his personal life, Kenji never gave them more than a shred of minuscule details. Feeding them like rats, giving them only the bare necessities to satisfy their hunger for a short while before they came crawling back, demanding more. 

He never let them know more than he wanted, more than he felt like sharing, and frankly, there was a plethora of details he didn’t feel like sharing. 

His reputation of perfection probably wouldn’t uphold itself that well if the media knew about all the things he was wrestling with. Between being a newfound parent to a kaiju infant by day and a masked vigilante known as Ultraman by night, Ken didn’t exactly fit the cookie cutter version of “having it all together.” 

And if that wasn’t enough, then the shame he harbored towards a decision he made almost five years ago would definitely topple the pedestal he comfortably built his identity on. 

The press loved gossip, and they’d fight tooth and nail for even the smallest scintilla of drama. Twisting innocent words and blowing frivolous details out of proportions was the job of reporters. So, imagine the headlines they’d make if those reporters found out any real insiders on the life of the world-famous baseball player. 

Imagine the sales they’d make if a journalist ever got ahold of the information about his past, the same past he’s been hiding away from during his time back in Japan.  

He’s thought about calling, maybe writing a letter to express some form of condolences, but what if word got out? What if the press found out about the woman he used to be married to, the same one he abandoned five years ago in order to pursue his baseball career. 

Forget his most recent batting record, a scandalous story such as that would make headlines from both sides of the Pacific Ocean, and then there really would be nowhere else for him to hide from his past, lest he fancied moving somewhere more remote and secluded. 

If that day came, if Ken Sato was exposed for the decisions he made before becoming famous, then his reputation might take some irreparable damage. 

That’s why he was so closed off towards reporters, towards his teammates, towards everyone. 

Never let anyone close to you and they can never betray you. That’s how Ken Sato lives. 

At least, how he did live, before a little reptilian creature crawled into his life, forcing him to realize there were things that mattered more than wealth and fame.

Before taking care of a kaiju infant became the priority in his life, Ken Sato had rooted his worth in the success of his career. So once that career took off, offering him all the success and affluence he could ever want, he began to realize just how little he really had. 

Despite the riches, the popularity, all of it felt meaningless with no one to share it with. He could’ve held a party with hundreds of guests, surrounding himself with countless people all desperate to please him. Nevertheless, none of it would fill the emptiness engulfing his heart; knowing that no one he interacted with would ever see him as more than a means to financial gain and an increase in social status. 

He had a world full of convenience and opportunities at his fingertips, and yet, he never felt more detached from reality. 

His family was complicated, his friends were more like business partners who benefitted from their relations to him, and the one person he had ever felt truly comfortable around probably hated him now, after being dismissed in favor of baseball. 

In the end, even in a room full of dedicated fans, Ken Sato felt alone. 

However, then that little kaiju infant came along, and everything started to get better. Caring for a child, though tiring at first, gave Kenji something to work towards; a purpose that mattered more than advertising for energy drinks or scoring another record breaking hit at home plate. 

Emi finally gave him the one thing he always wanted, the same thing he always pretended not to need: family. 

After that, baseball didn’t seem to matter as much as it used to, unless he was teaching it to Emi. And all the wealth he had acquired over the years didn’t hold the same value as before, unless he was spending it on his adopted daughter. His lifestyle remained the same, but his heart was in a different place, a more peaceful one. 

Winning championships were more rewarding when he had someone to win for, someone to celebrate with afterwards. And now that he’d repaired the relationship between him and his father, things were looking promising for his future. 

But there was still one more roadblock, one last regret preventing him from moving forward completely. 

You. The woman he’d been married to for a whole year, and, regretfully, the same woman who asked for a divorce due to his neglectful and inconsiderate disregard for her. 

He was young and immature back then, foolishly believing the pursuit of his baseball career was more important than maintaining a healthy marriage. He was arrogant, thinking that extravagant gifts and vacations would keep you happy and secure his role as a provider. 

But he was ignorant to think that being married to you meant he no longer had to earn your affection. All the money and gifts in the world couldn’t make up for the fact that he was never home, and that you were never his priority back then. 

Every morning he’d wake up early, well before you, just to attend practice. And every night he’d come home late, just after dinner, claiming he had needed to stay longer than normal to practice more. 

You’d set out a plate for him, but after his baseball career started taking off, he didn’t really have the time for things such as family dinners or game nights; or so he said. 

He’d usually come home and skip dinner, taking a shower or going to sleep instead. You didn’t necessarily blame him for that, it was only natural for him to be tired from practice. But as the days of barely seeing him turned into months, and he started traveling consistently for his games, you started to feel more like a stranger to him than his wife. He was your husband on paper, but, in the confines of your home, you barely knew how to keep a conversation with him anymore. If you were being honest, you didn’t even really know him that well anymore. 

At least, not as much as you used to. Things were different when you first got married, he wasn’t always so arrogant and inconsiderate. Instead, he was passionate and playful, always knowing how to make you laugh after crying. Even on your first date, he was romantic and charming, making you blush to yourself every time a compliment slipped past his lips. 

But I guess the honeymoon phase people always warn you about before marriage was real; at least, it was for you and Kenji. 

Once his baseball career started taking off, the fame must’ve gotten to his head, and he forgot about the one woman who had been supporting him from the sidelines all along. You had gone to every game, recorded all his winning homeruns, supported his career even though it meant holding off on pursuing yours. And yet, he repaid you with neglect, with a one-sided marriage.

You held on for a while, convinced that he would come around, that his behavior would change and he would reflect on his actions. But after the one-year anniversary of your marriage arrived and he wasn’t even in town to celebrate with you, that’s when you made your decision. You were done being a second choice. 

You got in contact with a lawyer, gathered divorce papers and waited with bated breath till he got home from his trip. And the moment he walked in the door, you practically shoved the papers in his face, all the emotions you’d kept bottled up for so long suddenly coming out in a volcanic eruption of shouting and sobbing. 

And surprisingly enough, he stayed quiet through the majority of it, just watching with a hollow stare as you unleashed all the frustration you’d been harboring towards him. And without a word, he took the papers from you and fished out a pen from his desk drawer, signing them in silence. 

Maybe he had realized from your onslaught of emotions that you were better off without him, that he was clearly causing you pain, and you’d be happier once he set you free of him. Or maybe he really was just that heartless and figured now was the perfect opportunity to get rid of you. Either way, your stomach seemed to twist into a knot at the way he so casually signed those divorce papers and handed them back to you. 

This was what you had wanted, wasn’t it? You’re the one who had gathered the papers in the first place, you should’ve been happy that he was finally ending it, finally setting you free. And yet, you felt yourself holding back tears at his lack of emotion. He didn’t try to argue, he didn’t plead with you to give him another chance like you had expected him too. He just admitted defeat, giving up on trying to fix your marriage and taking off for Japan two days later. 

He left, leaving you back in America while he returned to his home country to continue baseball there; abandoning his American team in the middle of their journey to the championships. 

He had given you an opportunity to move on, to become the person he always prevented you from being, and so you took it.

You cut all forms of communication, threw out everything of his that he didn’t take when he left, and moved into your own apartment. It was a fresh start, a clean slate, and you finally had the chance to chase after your dream career, just like he had been doing.  

So, you did, and you didn’t give up. You refused to, you owed this to yourself, and you weren’t going to waste any more time pouring effort into someone who didn’t appreciate it. 

So, you worked, tirelessly, anxiously, until the day came when your newest novel finally become a bestseller all around the nation, and you were officially titled a successful author. 

Now it was your turn, to stand in front of a crowd of adoring fans, to sign autographs and attend fan events. It almost reminded you of your ex-husband, how people used to scream his name and cheer for his success. But now they were cheering for you, supporting you like he hadn’t. You almost laughed at the irony of it all. Five years ago, you would’ve never imagined the life you’d made for yourself now, celebrating your fourth bestselling novel in a row and becoming a well-known author like you always dreamed of. 

And yet, looking back, none of this would’ve been possible had you not been set free from the restraints your marriage to Ken Sato had bound you to. Without him and the neglect he subjected you to, you wouldn’t have worked as hard as you did. So really, in a way, you had him to thank for how far you’ve come and all the success you’ve accomplished. Because if he never signed those papers five years ago, you would still be tied down to a one-sided marriage. 

But you weren’t, and thank God for that.

Now you had moved on, and so had he. 

Or so you thought. 

Little did you know, Ken Sato was on a mission, and not as Ultraman this time. After undergoing the change and maturity necessary to become a parent to a kaiju infant, Kenji realized he needed to make things right between the two of you. Even if it had been five years since he last saw you. 

He wasn’t looking to ask you to take him back and rekindle your marriage, though he wouldn’t have minded if that ended up happening. Instead, he simply wanted to apologize for his actions, for being such a crappy husband back then. He had reflected a lot on the subject of your marriage over the past couple years, but, he never reached out in fear of your reaction to seeing him again. 

Although, after avoiding it for long enough, and getting a lecture about taking responsibility from his dad, he finally decided to go through with it and booked a flight back to America. 

He was nervous to say the least, but he knew he couldn’t back out. Even if you screamed and yelled at him, he had to take accountability for his past actions and apologize for the pain he’d caused you, for pushing you to the back burner while he allowed baseball to take priority in his life. 

He’d made peace with himself and his father already, thanks to the help of his adoptive daughter. So now it was time to make peace with you. And as he watched the plane lift off the ground from his window seat, he held his breath, wondering how you would react to seeing him again after so many years. 

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Tags : @thebadbatch @rlc-gg

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[e-claire]

Misophonia sucks so fucking hard and no one anywhere ever wants to talk about it. Literally the only people I've ever had listen to me about my Misophonia are other people with Misophonia. So fuck it, Misophonia Awareness Post or something, I want to vent.

Allow me to describe what it is first for all the lucky people who aren't fucked over. Misophonia is likely an Audio-Processing Disorder (Potentially some form of Synesthesia) in which certain sounds trigger a fight or flight reaction. Trigger sounds can vary and sometimes after long term exposure it can create a reaction to the visuals associated with those sounds. It is possibly genetic, there is no known cause, there is no known treatment, there is only suffering and ways of generally kind of reducing that suffering. When I hear people chewing I am filled with a rage that can only be described as "Bordering on a primal desire to Kill." and there's nothing I can do about that. A family member or friend takes a bite of something crunchy and I have to sit there and exist with thoughts of pounding their fucking skull into paste with my bare god damn hands and then afterwards I have to go back to "being normal". I have to just pretend that didn't happen, I can't do anything with those emotions, I can't put them anywhere, I can't talk about them with anyone or gain any understanding or sympathy from others for having them.

When I see someone chewing food anymore it's borderline impossible for me to remain in the room with them for any more than a few seconds because the mere sight of them chewing makes me physically ill and inspires in me a sense of deep disgust and panic that I could never ever hope to describe.

I tell people about what it's like and I get one of four reactions :

"Oh I think I have that too" With a weird amount of curious excitement at the concept of having a fun new quirky thing to mention in conversations. This means that they don't have it, and they'll then proceed to list off a couple different things that literally no human being likes to hear and how much that thing "annoys them". This makes me want to kill myself.

"Wow, Yikes." Through a grimace. This means I was too open about how it makes me feel and they now think i'm a either a freak, liability, time bomb, or over-dramatic, and will do everything they can to avoid the subject in the future so that I can't make them uncomfortable. This makes me want to kill them AND myself.

Immediately eats something really loudly to set me off as a "joke". This means that they're an obnoxious piece of shit that I have to try my absolute hardest not to beat to death with my bare hands. This makes me want to kill them, if that wasn't already obvious.

"Oh. So that's what this is called." This means they have it, and we can both engage in a brief period of mutual trauma sharing that helps us know we're not alone, and that our curse is unfortunately shared with others. This makes us both somewhat melancholy, and kinda ruins the vibes until something fun happens.

And then we get into the "How do you make the pain stop", and good news! You can't. There is no way to make it stop. But you can make it hurt less with ✨Spending Unbearable Amounts of Cash✨

You can buy a billion different types of earplugs that will all do great at muting the world but always leave you incredibly unaware of the world around you and leave you fucked in-terms of listening to media.

You can buy normal headphones that will kind of work but never mute the world around you anywhere near enough and vaguely frustrate you constantly, but hey at least you're a bit more accessible! Try combining these with a combination of rain and static noise playing at all times in the background for an extra layer of silence :)

You can buy ANC headphones that cost infinitely too much money and are almost always built to break so that they can farm cash from you in repairs, but the ANC is so useful despite not working perfectly that you can't really exist without it so you're gonna spend 200+ dollars every couple years because you don't have a choice, and spend every single day 24/7 wearing hot heavy over-ear headphones! Use the Rain and Static Noise combo with this as well for the best ANC effect.

And inevitably, all of these options will give you hearing problems, potentially make you aware of new trigger sounds, and always leave you a step behind everyone else when a conversation happens. Pro-Tip : For when the sounds are really intrusive and you're on the verge of a breakdown, Combine ANC with Ear Plugs and the R&SN background audio to basically kill noise in it's entirety for a little while :)

AND NOW WE GET TO THE PART WHERE I SAY WHAT THE FUCK CAN YOU NORMIES DO TO MAKE OUR SUFFERING LESS FUCKING CONSTANT.

Listen to us. Don't ostracize us for experiencing emotions we can't control and don't mean or want to act on. If you can, try your best to do the trigger noises quietly, and try your best not to do the trigger visuals in-front of us. We know it's not something you can control entirely, but if you can make the effort to make our lives suck less, we'll really fucking appreciate it.

And if you try to get back at us during a fight by eating something really crunchy to abuse our disorder for your benefit, I swear to god I will hunt you down personally and subject you to the most violent and painful torture I can manage before killing you and hiding your body somewhere no one will ever find it so that your loved ones never have the closure of knowing if you died or if you're still somewhere out there. Thanks for reading even though I know you didn't because the length of this post is frankly unhinged and i'll probably only get like 2 likes at best.

[transmutationisms]

can you talk a bit more about weber (im refering to a post you made earlier today i think)? i know a bit about the protestant ethic theory but not really the historical context in which it was written nor how it's used today. thanks!

so, weber's argument is essentially that protestant (specifically calvinist and puritan) theology played a major causal role in the development of capitalism in northern europe following the reformation. his position was that protestant ethics, in contrast to catholicism, placed a high moral value on secular, everyday labour, but also discouraged the spending of one's wages on luxury goods, tithing to the church, or giving overmuch to charity. thus, protestants invested their money in business and commercial ventures instead, turning the generation of capital into a moral endeavour and venerating hard work and economic productivity as ways to ensure one's soul was saved (as the buying of indulgences was not an option for protestants).

this is a bad argument. at core it is idealist, subordinating an economic development to religious ideology. weber never explains how the actual, material economic changes he wants to talk about were effected by a set of ideas; he doesn't consider the possibility that the ideas themselves reflected in some way the material and economic context in which they were developed; he doesn't differentiate between protestantism as a causal factor in the development of capitalism, versus the possibility that capitalism and protestant conversion both resulted from some other factor or set of factors. <- these types of problems are endemic to 'history of ideas' aka 'intellectual history' because merely writing a history of the (learned, published) ideas circulating at a given time doesn't tell you jack about how and whether those ideas were actually implemented, how common people reacted to them or resisted them, what sorts of material circumstances the ideas themselves were formulated amidst, and so forth.

in the case of weber, it's very easy to poke holes in this supposed relationship between protestantism and capitalism. even in western europe alone, we could look at a country like france, which was quite catholic, never became predominantly or even significantly protestant, and yet also industrialised not long after, eg, the netherlands and england. we could also look at what historian michael kwass calls "court capitalism" in 18th-century france, which was a largely non-industrial form of capitalism that depended on the catholic king's central authority in order to ensure a return on investment. france at this time had a burgeoning luxury culture and a centralised, absolutist government that was closely entwined with the powerful catholic church—yet it also had economic development that is recognised as early capitalist, along with growing social and economic tensions between the nascent bourgeois and petit-bourgeois classes and the aristocracy. this is not even close to being the earliest example of capitalist or proto-capitalist economic development (some predates the reformation!), and again, this is within western europe alone—we could and should also point out that capitalism is not solely a european phenomenon and can and does coexist with other, radically different, religious ideology (i have problems with jack goody's work but this is something i think it can help elucidate).

weber argued that the 'spirit of capitalism' was no longer dependent on the protestant theology that had initially spawned it—but again, here we see issues with idealist methodologies in history. at what point, and how, does this 'spirit' become autonomous? what is it that has taken hold, if weber is not talking about the 'protestant ethic' itself and is also not interested in analysing the material changes that comprise capitalism except as effects of some underlying ideology? well, it's what he sees as a general shift toward 'rationalisation' and 'disenchantment' of the world, leading to an understanding of late 19th- and early 20th-century capitalism as a kind of spiritually unmoored servitude to mechanism and industry. this in turn relates back to weber's overall understanding of the legacy of the 'scientific revolution', which is another can of (bad) worms. there is a lot to say about these elements of weber's thought, but for starters the idea that europe was the progenitor of all 'scientific advancement', that it then simply disseminated such knowledge to the rest of the world (the apotheosis of the centre-periphery model, lmao), and that europe has become 'disenchanted', ie irreligious, as a result of such scientific advancement... is just patently bad analysis. it's eurocentric, chauvinistic, and simply demonstrably untrue in like twelve different ways.

anyway, when i see conservatives and reactionaries cite weber, i'm not surprised. his arguments are conservative (his entire intellectual paradigm in this text was part of his critique of marx and the premises of materialist / contextualist history). but when i see ostensible leftists doing it, often as some kind of dunk on protestantism (or christianity more generally, which is not even a good reading of weber's own understanding of catholicism), it's more irritating to me. i am not interested in 'leftisms' that are not materialist. weber's analysis is a bad explanation of how and why capitalism took hold; it doesn't even work for the limited northern european case studies he starts with because, again, idealist history fundamentally fails to explain how ideology itself creates material change. like, "some guy writes something down -> ??? -> everyone just agrees with him -> ??? -> stuff happens somehow" is not a good explanation of any phenomenon, lmao. if we are stuck on the idea that capitalism, a set of economic phenomena and real relations of production, is the result of ideology, then we will also be stuck trying to 'combat' capitalism on the ideological level. it's unserious and counterproductive. weber's analysis has retained an outsize position in the sociological historiography because it's an attractively simplistic, top-down, idealist explanation of both capitalism and protestantism that makes centuries worth of material changes to production forms into a kind of ideological coup ushering in an age of 'rationalism'. this is just not a text that tells us, leftists, anything politically useful. at best it is an explication of the internal psychological logics of (some) forms of protestantism in (some) places and contexts.

[justcallmesakira]

Pleaseee, could you do valentine event fluff 10 prompt with Chuuya?💗💗

''Why do I need a expensive perfume when i have your scent?''

Prompt 10 (fluff)

Sypnosis: You bought chuuya a very expensive perfume for your date tonight, but theres something else he craves more then a mere scent..

Chuuya x reader

Warnings: none!

A/N: Hi anonieee!! i am so glad you requested sorry this took some time i am currently very sick! Hope you will like it <3

Now playing- Diet mountain dew by Lana dey rey

⇆ㅤ ||◁ㅤ❚❚ㅤ▷||ㅤ ↻

You had a date with Chuuya today. Since valentines is coming soon why not visit a brand new restaurant with your lover? Chuuya loved ravishing and spoiling you whether it with dates or expensive items.

You were walking inside a mall to look for a special gift for Chuuya. He always wore a velvety perfume on him which always made an impact on you which he did not know.

You loved the air he carried when he entered a room

So why not buy him something? For all the things he did for you, his doll, his love and his sweetheart.

The shop you entered was very neat and expensive looking. There were various perfumes, designer bags, cosmetics etc.

All of the perfume bottles were bland but one caught your eye, a red and pink rhinestone embroided bottle with a wispy smell of roses. ''What a lovely combination...'' you thought as you asked one of the staff to get you this in an elegant bag with a satin pink ribbon tied around it.

When you went up to pay for the perfume you realised you have chuuyas credit card with you and was about to take it out but took out yours instead and payed it was sort of expensive.

You skipped out of the store happily of course you would buy him more things but for now you wanted to be more classy.

After that you bought a dignified pearly pink dress and bought a matching set of earrings with his card, He would pout if you didnt use his card.

Back at home

You got ready, with that dress you bought, A pretty and raspy one. However the thing you were excited most was giving chuuya the perfume you bought for him today.

It was almost 7 o` clock and you were adding touch ups to your glistening face with a muted salmon pink lip gloss.

The opening of the penthouse`s door opens

"Dear, I am home. hope you are ready.'' Your eyes dart form the vanity mirror to the open door and his leaning figure against the doorframe.

"Oh chuuya!! I see you are ready just a moment please.'' you said trying to tie a satin ribbon around your neck. Chuuyas eye widen in curiosity but it returns to a soft smirk as he walks over to your sitting posture.

"Here let me tie it" Chuuya breathed out with his head atop of yours and his gloved hands tying the ribbon around your neck into a fancy ribbon.

You can feel his body warmth from behind.

Finally he finished and he took a prismatic glass bottled perfume from the perfume set on the white table and sprayed it on your collarbone, taking in he fragrance. You stood up.

"Chuuya...I bought a gift for you" you spit out while taking out a small bag with the perfume inside, Chuuyas eye widen in happiness and chuckles.

"Doll, you didnt had to you know..?" he says before reaching for the bag and taking out the perfume from the bag. His eyes meet the satin strip tied neatly around the neck of the bottle. ''Sweetheart,,, did you use your money to buy this?" He asks calmly with his heterochromic orbs eyeing your facial expressions to which you only nodded

"Well it was a gift!'' You reply anxiously.

Chuuya leans closer to you and gently pushes you against the vanity table with his hands caging you in his space but keeps a safe distance.

''Why do i need expensive perfumes when i have your scent''

Chuuyas voice breathes out with his face leaning into yours with a serious look in his eyes. You can feel his breathe on your collarbone and his lips slightly nibbling on the place where he sprayed the perfume.

"Now lets get going, dressed up all pretty for me cant let that go to waste now can we?'' he leaned back letting your flustered hot body relax before taking your purse and following him out the apartment.

Ever since then you took extra note on which perfume he is using.

A/N: ugh *cough cough* because of my cold perfume prob smells like rotten airplane food

[autolenaphilia]

I got a Steam Deck last year, and it’s such a great machine. It’s obviously inspired by Nintendo Switch, but it’s a lot better than a Switch.

The most important part is that it runs PC games. It’s fundamentally a Linux gaming PC in the form of a handheld console. There are a lot more games available than any console and and PC games both on Steam and GOG are a lot cheaper than console ones. You can get old or indie games for as cheap as 1-3 euro during sales. It’s a tremendous advantage for the deck over its console competitors.

And while the obvious intent of the deck is to get more people to buy games from Steam, it isn’t a walled garden at all. The deck launches into Steam when you boot it up, but you can go into desktop mode, and then it functions as a normal PC running a Linux distro. From there you can install Lutris or Heroic Games Launcher, and use it to easily install games you bought from GOG and Itch.io.

You can also do things like use the official dock or an unofficial usb-c hub to hook the deck up to a monitor, mouse and keyboard to use it as a desktop PC. Or you can hook it up to a tv to use it as home console.

The hardware is also a lot more powerful than a switch, the demanding triple-a games it can play is actually impressive. Although this comes with the natural disadvantage that it’s bulkier too. Putting more powerful PC parts demands more space for them. The deck is not something I bring with me outside. But then again I didn’t even do that with the 3DS, which was actually of a practical size to do that. The deck is portable enough that I can comfortably play lying in bed, which is how I always used my handheld consoles. So it’s perfect for me, but maybe not if you want to play it on the bus or something. It can probably be a fun addition to your luggage on longer trips though.

Of course, as mentioned, the Steam Deck uses Linux. This has both advantages and disadvantages. The main advantage is that it allows Valve to customize the operating system to make it fit with the machine it’s running on. The Deck’s SteamOS feels really well-integrated into the hardware, like how a proper console OS should be like. It’s not that dissimilar to how Sony used FreeBSD to make Playstation’s OS. Windows would not allow for this amount of customization and would not integrate as well.

And the open source nature of most Linux development allows Valve and the user to use existing open-source Linux software to their advantage. For example, the desktop mode is largely not a Valve creation, it’s an existing desktop environment for Linux, KDE Plasma. Yet it extends what the user can do with the deck to a great extent, like for installing non-steam games.

The main disadvantage to the Deck using Linux is that most PC games are built for Windows and don’t run natively under Linux. To run games built for Windows, the Deck has to run it through Proton, a compatibility layer which is Valve’s own gaming-focused version of Wine. Wine/Proton is far from perfect, sometimes games require extensive tinkering to work, or only run with serious issues, or don’t run at all, no matter what you do. Sometimes a game not working with Wine due to some random but serious issue that comes naturally from running a Windows executable on a Linux system via a compatibility layer. Sometimes it’s due to things like a multiplayer’s game anti-cheat system requiring access to the Windows kernel, and it will block a Linux pc from running the game because it has no Windows kernel.

This is however not as big a problem as it might otherwise be. Most games work, more or less. Valve has put a lot of work and money into both their own Proton and the Wine project as a whole, and they work a lot better than they did 10 years ago. Many run perfectly out of the box, because they are native, or play nice with Proton. Some require mere minor tinkering, like using a different version of Proton. And I generally don’t play multiplayer games, or if I do they don’t have draconian anti-cheats, so the games that are blocked because of anti-cheat are no big loss to me. The Steam Deck not running Fortnite is a plus in my book.

And we shouldn’t forget the Steam Deck verified system. Basically Valve employees check if the game runs out of the box with no issues on the Deck. They get a verified rating if they work with no issue, including both proton compatibility but also things like the controls working nice and the text being legible on the deck’s small screen. They also get a “playable” rating if the game runs to an acceptable standard but with tinkering required or other minor issues.

This is a good system. If you dislike tinkering, you can just buy and play games on steam with a verified rating, and the deck will work like a normal console for you, but with a lot cheaper games. It’s a good way to get people used to consoles into PC gaming, which is probably the point of the Deck.

And if you want more than deck verified games from Steam on the Deck, you are given the freedom to do it. I’ve gotten officially non-supported steam games to run on the deck by installing and using proton-GE and I’ve installed and played games from GOG.

The Steam Deck is really how a Linux PC for the common people should work. An easy and slick experience for casual users, but freedom and customization given to those that want it.

[splendidnothings]

Is it in your opinion that Peter would be able to manage suddenly coming into tens of millions of dollars?

We've actually seen exactly what happens when he comes into tens of millions of dollars (and his own company) post-Superior Spider-Man. And let’s just say it did not end well--

("Now, let's tear it down!" Amazing Spider-Man #31 (2015))

Truly, the man did not last more than a couple months, in-universe, before force-ejecting from the entire enterprise, super-villain plot notwithstanding. Even without Otto forcing his hand Peter was routinely giving his money away or using exorbitant amounts for the benefit of his family and friends. His philanthropic work with the Uncle Ben Foundation. Helping out May, Flash, and Carlie. Generally, giving his money away at any opportunity. He bought the Baxter Building for Johnny!

("Everyone was trying to buy this place...and I outbid 'em all..." Amazing Spider-Man #3 (2015))

Peter during Parker Industries didn’t “manage” this money at all. He spent and spent and the only reason he didn’t eventually run out was because his corporation imploded first.

So, I think the easiest answer is if he suddenly came into a lot of money, like for example, if he won the lottery, he would not so much manage the money but just use it until it ran dry and then find a gig to pay next month’s rent. 

Now, Parker Industries is a pretty on the nose example so if we disregard that run I still think it's clear that Peter would manage a million dollars just as well as he would ten dollars and that is to say quickly and/or probably for the benefit of someone else. Peter genuinely just does not care about having money just to acquire wealth. 

(“I don’t value it.” Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man #10 (2019) I personally think this is a clunky panel because it’s telling us instead of actually showing us he doesn’t value money but alas it suits my purposes for this post.)

This is obviously not to say he doesn't know the value of money or that he is oblivious to the fact that he needs money for rent or that having money makes life easier. Most of his struggles come from a lack of money. But he doesn’t view money in the long term, he’s not thinking of it as a potential investment but merely a tool to solve immediate problems. Even when he comes into a bit of surprise money he needs it all just to cover bills (Thanks Robbie!)--

(“I have [a savings plan]?! You mean when Robbie made me sign all those forms last year?... That’s just enough for my back rent and a pizza!” Spectacular Spider-Man #126) 

Peter and his relationship with money is established early as core to his character and in connection with his economic status. When you are poor any money you earn is for immediate necessities, not something to be saved and managed. 

("Without Uncle Ben, we've no money to pay our bills." Amazing Spider-Man #1) 

He just needs to make enough to pay rent, for May's medical bills, for food. Maybe he wants to get something nice for May or Betty, Gwen, or MJ. Later on, his money worries are in relation to being able to support a wife (this occurs with both Gwen and MJ). But it's all short-term and a means to an end. Past the immediate obstacle where the money is needed, he doesn't care about money at all.

His very first superhero team-up was less of a team-up and more of Peter thinking he could make money by joining the Fantastic Four!

("There's the way I can make some money--by joining the Fantastic Four!" Amazing Spider-Man #1) 

I’ve been using multiple panels from Amazing Spider-Man #1 so far because I think it’s important in showing how ingrained Peter’s overall views on money are to the character. This is his second appearance ever (after Amazing Fantasy #15) and not only is his socio-economic class crystal clear but so is how he handles and thinks about money. 

Canonically, almost every time Peter does come into a little extra money he gives it away. This is also a pretty consistent trait of his. He's just not one to keep extra cash around unless he's specifically saving for something. Why would he hoard money when he can help someone he loves or give it to a New Yorker who needs it more than him at that moment. 

(...other people need it more than me, right?) 

Further, he doesn’t view Spider-Man as something that holds monetary value. 

(Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man #1(2019))

And he knows how important money is for the average person-- 

(“If that money isn’t recovered, what happens to relief payments this month?”)

And--let’s be clear here--Peter could very easily make all the money he wants. He could easily make loads of money. Whether it be because he is a certified genius. Or because he has superpowers and could employ them in a variety of different ways to get money...and he knows this.

("If money's a problem, then I'll just get money." Amazing Spider-Man #542)

(“I can go anywhere! No one, nothing can stop me! Any amount of money could be mine...” Amazing Spider-Man #1 (ASM #1 really doing the most work in hammering home so many core character traits huh!)) 

But, Peter is just not a character who aspires to be wealthy. He wants to be comfortable. He wants an apartment with a tiny skylight so he can easily sneak out and be Spider-Man. He wants enough money to take care of the people he loves. But that's it.

In fact, the jobs that have made him money usually become a problem because they get in the way of him being Spider-Man. He values being Spider-Man over making a name for himself, finishing grad school, making big science lab money, etc., etc. or he wouldn’t be dropping these pathways to a better economic status. He's had many well-paying science jobs throughout canon and he doesn't keep them because he eventually stops showing up. He's a flake who at the end of the day doesn't value that work or that money more than being Spider-Man and helping people Grad school meant so little to him at one point that he full-on dropped out, in part, because he thought he needed to make money to pay for Felicia's medical bills--

(“I might not have quit school to devote more time to making a living...OH WELL...”)

Pulling back a bit we also have to look at Peter and his purpose as a fictional character that requires thought and consistent theme-work. A Peter who acquires wealth. Who hoards such a valuable resource is kind of antithetical to his whole deal. Arguably, his most well-known villain is Norman Osborn the literal embodiment of what an evil man with lots of money and no responsibility can do. So, it really doesn’t make for a character like Peter so rooted in the lower class, so known for helping the ones who truly need him for him in his civilian life to be a well-off guy. Spider-Man is THE street-level hero dealing with street-level crime. At his best he is stopping muggings, beating up unfair landlords, or wealthy people taking advantage of the unfortunate. He's a man of the people and doesn't like when people misuse power and what gives people power more than money?

("...I had the most money!" "Oh, give it a rest." Spectacular Spider-Man #145) 

Wrapping this up, I also think a big reason Peter never feels so beholden to money is because he knows how self-sufficient he is. He invents his own webbing, web-shooters, is shown to be extremely handy, and is a genius. Why should he care about money beyond his basic needs? He can figure things out as the situation calls for it even if all he has is $23.50 in his bank account :p 

[nightmarexdove]

SA victim! Reader × RE8 Chris redfield

Note: Made this honestly for myself, been struggling allot emotionally and mentally and I really just needed to write something to give me comfort. I decided to share this in hopes of giving others struggling with similar situations a comfort as well! :') I do want to apologize if this writing comes off as rude or ignorant in any kind of way, I've mainly used my own experiences to tailor this together but I've tried to use universal language to make it feel more personal to the reader. I hope you guys enjoy 💞

The day you opened up to him about your assault or rape was when you were having a particularly bad day in your head, you were having flashbacks of that very moment that ruined you for the rest of your life. Your depression, anger and confusion hit you like a train. You didn't want to be around anyone, not even the man who was trying so hard that day to get you to open up about what was getting you so down. But for whatever the reason maybe, you just couldn't. He worked during what felt like, every damn day of the week, he had enough on his plate. Plus, fear and apprehension was keeping you radio silent the longest. What if he just rolled his eyes, laughed and didn't believe you? Then what? Your relationship wouldn't be the same or just wouldnt exist anymore at all so you thought anyways. Chris would leave you in a heartbeat, no questions asked.

"Baby no- I'm sorry, I can for a fact guarantee you are talking out your ass right now. It's written all over your face."

You could imagine him, you could imagine him saying those very words and right there and then everything you've built with him over the years would fall apart in mere seconds.

I could imagine that in reality, he'd be always ready to talk no matter what or how he's feeling. Because right now, he could matter less. trying to offer you comfort in the forms of snacks, blankets hugs and kisses.

What alarmed him was when you'd force yourself out of his embrace, when you'd stay away from the comforts that you may have typically enjoyed.

He'd be worried sick alright, calling Claire for advice on how he could better help you and maybe get a idea of what your silent struggles where about lately.

You'd sit with him after a few days, and he'd listen face to face with you ears eyes and thoughts all devoted to you, his angel.

"Oh hun...I'm so so sorry, I should have been less pushy. I'm so sorry."

He'd whisper in a quiet, softer voice. Letting you throw yourself at him for a tight hug, all he could feel was- hurt. He felt hurt seeing you hurt, especially THIS hurt. He may not be able to fully understand your pain, but he empathizes and wants nothing more than to take care of you in any way he could.

You want a bubble bath? Say less, your his number one priority.

Takeout from your favorite place, he's getting something from there too.

Or if you just want to vent about it, if you just need his undying attention then so be it.

He'd listen to you all day, keeping you wrapped in his enormous arms safe against his chest and safe in the four walls of your shared space.

"You are so so strong sweetheart, so brave and stronger than you think. I'd say, your stronger than me and my men, your safe here and I'll make sure it stays like that. If you ever need to talk, you know you'll have me, whatever you need."

He'd reassure you in that warm voice of his, like honey his words fell from his lips if you needed to cry or already crying, He'd keep you held close against him, letting you get everything out.

If you needed sometime in therapy, Chris would search for the best place money could buy. He wanted you to feel well, to feel cared and loved and thought about.

I could imagine him to be a VERY patient man, if you were having a flashback that day or just very upset and angry he'd understand and let you express your needs. Weather through writing them down gesturing, or just out right telling him. He'll let you decide and be right with you to support your health and mind.

If there were certain things that especially reminded you of the time, Chris would ask you to either tell him or write it down so that way he'll know to not bring it up or bring a said object near you just to give an example.

If you liked to draw, paint or bake or just chill and watch movies. He'd definetly do these activities with you whenever he's available, he'd definitely check in with you more than previously either texting calling or just asking in person. He knows this is a very delicate moment and time for you, so he'll keep tabs on you 24/7.

When he's away and on duty for work, I can imagine him going to Leon and asking if he could find for him any Intel on your abuser. And during his time away from home, he'd make it his personal mission to find and take care of the waste of air who hurt his precious sunshine.

[redwavefeminist]

i don't use the word "classist" because it was built in analogy with "racist" or "sexist" even though there is a difference of nature between racism, sexism and classism. the problem with racism and sexism is thus: you are getting discriminated because of your skin colour/ethnicity, you are getting discriminated because of your sex, but in a better world, it'd still be possible for you to be female or to be black/brown without facing discrimination; discrimination isn't inherent to being born female or black/brown; the feminist and antiracist movements therefore aim at abolishing the structures that give rise to sexism and racism.

the same cannot be said of classism; saying "you are getting discriminated because of your class" is redundant and tautological. because, while you could (in a better world) be female and not oppressed, we cannot conceive of a world where economic classes exist and yet class-based discrimination does not. as opposed to being born female or being born brown, being born poor is in itself exploitative. you cannot dissociate poverty from oppression. calling an incident "classist" implies that the rest of the time, you are suffering from less discrimination on the basis of your class, which is not the case. when you are poor, you get discriminated on the basis of your class every single day, every time you go buy the groceries, every time you go buy your bus ticket, every time you have to spend money, every time you have to work for barely anything -- that is, you are being exploited every day. the word "classist" neglects and erases the reality of daily life in poverty

it's the exact same thing as replacing the word "sexism" by "genderism" (or "gender-based discrimination"). it implies gender is neutral in itself, and that women are being sometimes discriminated on the basis of their gender. but the actual problem is that gender is in itself oppressive, it's gender we are meant to fight, not the most overt manifestations of misogyny, but also the way it permeates our day-to-day life. same thing with "classism". class isn't in itself neutral: it is inherently exploitative for the working-class, that's why we have to destroy the class system entirely, instead of merely fighting the most overt forms of workplace discrimination. do you see how the word "classism" only serves capitalist interest? it downplays the necessity for a revolutionary fight and for the liberation of the working-class

another reason i hate the word "classist": it conceals who the real victims of class-based discrimination is. it implies anyone can be discriminated on the basis of their class, when that's not the case: it's only the working class (and parts of the middle classes) that are. upper middle classes and the bourgeoisie never are

a third reason i hate the word "classist": it implies class society is just one of the avatars of systemic social oppression, just like racism or sexism, when class society is the overarching structure that gave rise to sexism and racism. i am not saying that anti-capitalism is a more important fight than feminism or antiracism, i am not saying that overthrowing capitalism would solve sexism and racism. i am saying that women are a social class under patriarchy (something many radical left-wing feminists, like christine delphy, have argued) and that race/racism were invented during modern times to justify the exploitation of black people and third world people, who were made to occupy a proletarian social class (something that historians have argued as well). using the word "classist" transforms class society into one of the many consequences of social inequality, when in actuality, it's class society itself that is the root of social inequality. it's because women and men are organized in a class system (men over women), white people and poc are organized in a class system (white over brown), humans in general are organized in a class system (rich over poor) that inequality exists

so i don't use the word "classist". half the time it can be replaced by "class-based prejudice", when talking about incidents (for example, when my workplace was illegal paying me under the minimum wage), and half the time, by "class society", when talking about the general climate of oppression the working class lives in

[kendrene]

crudely compliment appearance - jillian and mother superion :)

Afternoon training sessions have become an unexpected form of entertainment within the OCS. The late afternoon slot, after the flagstones in the courtyard have gone from boiling hot to merely warm, and slanting sunlight paints across the stained glass of the cathedral in sparks of orange-gold.

It’s at that time, as the day fades first to memory then dream, that Mother Superion calls the new recruits to the training mats one by one and wipes the floor with them for a good hour and a half. 

“I didn’t think someone that old could move so quickly.” Today, Ava sits astride the banister ringing the upper cloister, back pressed against a marble column. She’s still flushed from their own training, the messy braid she gathered her hair in to keep it out of the way slowly coming undone. Beatrice tries hard not to stare. “How old is Supes exactly, by the way? Like sixty?” 

Mary makes a disgusted sound deep in her throat.

“What?” Ava raises an eyebrow. The sun is pretty much gone, dipped behind the outer buildings, but a stray reflection crowns her head in fire. Beatrice’s focus drifts from the discussion again. To Ava. To the miracle of having her back by their side. Her side. Until the words Ava adds next. “She’s ancient, right? She gives off that vibe.”

“I don’t think I should ask—” Mary starts.

“You most definitely should not.” Beatrice interjects. She can sort of tell where this is going, and for once hopes to be wrong. 

“—but what vibe do you mean, Ava?” 

“Y’know, the old-dude-in-the-Bible vibe. What’s his face? Methuser-something.”

It’s such a burden to always be right.

“Methuselah.” Beatrice enunciates slowly. She plants both elbows on the banister, leaning in the space left between Ava and Mary. “And I can guarantee Mother Superion isn’t 969.”

“Have you seen her birth certificate or something?”

“Ava—”

“I’m just asking, okay?” Ava throws her hands up, placatingly. “I mean, she’s old, but also hot, kind of? It’s hard to put an actual age on her, really.”

“Please—” Mary is cut off by a yelp and a crash. The three of them look down in unison to see that one of the recruits is sprawling, weaponless, in the middle of a pile of upturned equipment. Camila, who’s overseeing training with Superion for the day, helps the girl up. “— do not say that ever again.” Mary continues. 

“Oh? Are you afraid of the truth?” 

“Both of you shut up and look.” Down below someone new is stepping on the mat, a stave clutched nervously in her hands. “It’s Yasmine’s turn.” 

“Five euros she lasts less than three minutes.” Ava immediately says.

“Ten euros she lasts at least five.” Mary snipes back.

Beatrice shakes her head. “You should be ashamed. Twenty euros and I say she actually disarms Mother Superion.”

“Unlikely.”

“Impossible.”

Beatrice crosses her arms.

“You ought to support your Sisters in times of— wow.” 

Mother Superion does something with her cane that even Beatrice’s eyes can’t follow, and Yasmine stumbles back, unbalanced. Trips on her own feet, ending up much the same way of the previous recruit, except that Yasmine, somehow, has kept a hold of her weapon. 

“You were saying?” Ava, smug as ever, sticks her tongue out.

“She’s still armed.” Yasmine is picking herself up, using the staff like the cane Superion carries with her everyday but has no need of anymore. “It doesn’t count.”

“Fine.” Ava nods. “Looks like they’re going for round two, anyway. Care to add pizza to our little bet?” 

“Double cheese and mushroom from the Italian place in town.” Beatrice says absently. Mother Superion has picked two other girls from the ranks and they’ve surrounded her, circling to find the right opening and strike. “I’m sure Cam will let you borrow the money if you buy her pizza, too.”

“Bold of you to assume that I’ll lose.”

“Bolder of you to assume that you won’t.”

Banter quickly dies off in the face of what next goes on at their feet. It all becomes a blur. Strike, riposte, repeat. The only noise that can be heard is the clak-clak-clak of the staffs clashing as the girls seek to score a first hit. Superion seems able to block everything they can think of throwing at her. 

“Oh,” Someone breathes out a little shakily next to Beatrice’s ear. “I’d totally hit that.”

Jillian Salvius has become, much like the late afternoon spectacles, a permanent fixture in these parts. Most days there’s something that needs mending, some new piece of tech Jillian wants them to try to help them in the coming war. Beatrice always thought it strange so much of it is personally delivered, and Jillian’s (probably unintentional) confession puts the situation under a brighter, blinding light.

“You’d what?” Ava’s voice rings out over the courtyard and training grinds to a halt. Everyone is staring up.

Dusk has extended its cold, blue hand on them all, but even in the fading light Beatrice can tell the tips of Jillian’s ears are heated red. 

“Isn’t that what you young people say?" She shifts on the balls of her feet, awkward, leaning away from Superion's hawk-like line of sight. "I’m trying to stay on top of idiomatic shifts in—” 

“Yeah,” Ava will remark sometimes later, after Mother Superion appeared among them and told Jillian to stay while the rest of them scattered like leaves in a storm. “I bet she’s trying to stay on top of someone alright…”

[caker-baker]

Sign

They didn’t actually need to look to see who it was, nor did they need to move from their leaned position against the railing. “Do me a favor and fuck off for a minute.”

“Now, now, Hero. That’s no way to treat an honored guest.”

“Fuck you. We both know that identity isn’t yours.” The hero ran a hand over their tired face. “I don’t care, whatever angle you have tonight, but if you kill someone–”

“That would be a spectacle. You should have already guessed that tonight is about espionage, considering the stolen identity and all.” The villain rested their hands on the railing next to the hero, but did not fully relax.

“Fantastic.” The hero’s voice fell flat. “Go back inside, then.”

Despite themself, the villain’s eyes wandered over the hero’s slouched form.

Even in their current crumpled and defeated mannerism, the hero was a sight to behold.

Nothing but the finest of clothes these days, a hair and makeup team had undoubtedly fussed over the hero for hours to get the current superstar affect, and of course, those fine clothes highlighted those hard earned muscles, but funnily enough, the scars seemed to have been hidden.

“You look miserable.”

The hero took a sharp breath in. “You don’t get to say that.”

“I told you what it would be if you signed, if you gave yourself to the government, say the word and I’ll fix it.”

The villain nearly jumped when the hero’s head swiveled towards them, expression close to feral.

“Fix what?” They spat. “I never have to worry about another bill in my life, medicine, housing, food, they do it all, Villain.” The hero turned away. “And all I have to do is dress up sometimes? Pose for a picture so they can put my face on a lunchbox?”

“You’re a product, Hero. They wave you around to show off their new attack dog.”

“I am not–!” They slammed their fist on the railing. It cracked, startling the hero, who stumbled back a few steps.

The villain reached out a hand, only to retract it when the hero pulled away.

“Whatever. It’s an equal exchange.”

The villain’s typically wide and watchful eyes softened. “Why didn’t you take my offer?”

Huffing, the hero turned, straightening out their form as they prepared to go back inside. “Go to hell.”

The villain reached out, gripping the hero’s arm, determined not to let them pull away this time.

“You used to be happy! You used to take pride in doing good!”

“I also used to be hungry and on the verge of homelessness. Let go.”

“I would have helped you. Why didn’t you let me help you?”

The hero ripped away their arm, turning and coming face to face with the villain, a mere inch apart.

“You don’t know what it’s like to owe someone.” The hero stepped forward, the villain stepped back. “All of you rich assholes are the same. If you had helped me, me, your enemy, it would have meant something else entirely. I can’t do that.”

Another step, another, and another.

“I never would have held it above you, Hero.” The villain had to keep walking backwards until they bumped into the railing. “I’m not like that–”

“You are! You’re an awful person. Do you think that I believe you’d make an exception for me? And why? Just because you enjoy villainy? Because you find all this entertaining?”

The hero’s eyes watered. “For them, I take pictures, I sign autographs, I wear the brand sponsored clothes and go to stupid galas, and yeah, sometimes I’m just there to look scary, but you know what I’m not doing? Giving myself away in a sense that I could never regain. What would it be for you?”

The villain opened their mouth, and closed it again.

What would it be for them? They didn’t like to stop and think about these unspoken feelings, the feelings that drove them in an unfamiliar and warm way, feelings that made them go on espionage missions that weren’t actually important.

What were they hoping to gain by helping the hero? Praise? Gratitude? Admiration?

Love?

As if reading the villain’s mind, the hero spoke.

“What would it be for you? Because for all the money in the world, you can’t buy that.” The hero scoffed, backing away. “You know, they really try to play up the strong but dumb image, makes it easier for sponsors to buy into, but I’m not an idiot.”

“Of course you’re not.”

Suddenly, the hero’s eyes turned upwards, looking, looking, looking.

“Doesn’t look like there’s any cameras up here.” The hero’s shoulders dropped a little. “If someone found out I damaged the railing, they’d probably…”

The villain raised an eyebrow. “They’d probably…?”

“It doesn’t matter.” They held their chin high. “I’m going inside. Have your fun tonight, but any deaths and I will fly your sorry ass straight into the sun.”

“Naturally.” The villain smiled gently, although they were positive that if the hero could somehow survive in space, they would, in fact, fly the villain’s sorry ass into the sun.

But the hero didn’t respond, didn’t give any notice to the villain’s existence as they slipped through the door, a full photo-op ready picture of grace.

The villain let out a shuttering breath once the door closed again, heart hammering in their chest.

No, no, no time for that. The villain couldn’t let this new feeling distract them, there were things to be done, olive branches to be offered, and signatures to be burned.

[magicwithclass]

Value Boosters in Bloomburrow.

With the discontinuation of the draft booster, there was a void in the market for a cheaper booster product. Play boosters typically cost between 4 dollars and 6 dollars, depending on the set, and that is actually quite expensive for a casual experience. The audience has been demanding a cheaper booster product because people like the thrill and excitement of cracking packs. The adrenaline is quite addictive and that experience can not be matched by opening a preconstructed starter deck or commander deck. Even so, they did attempt to put a taste of opening packs into commander decks in the form of the collector booster sample pack. Wizards of the Coast's market research must show that adding the collector booster to commander decks leads to more people going out and buying more product. The sample pack is not meant to be a free include but is meant to mimic the, "first one is free," drug mentality that gets so many people hooked. The starter decks and commander decks do a great job, value value, of giving players a product that they can play right out of the box and upgrade over time. Yet, you need to know your market! Of course, you should buy the singles you need and not risk your money on what is essentially a mystery box. However, that is simply not the reality of our world. People want to open pack. Players want to experience the rush of tearing the pack open and smelling the new cards. The sense of excitement as you flip through the cards. Your anticipation builds as you get closer to the pack hit. The, either you hit big and want to relive the experience or you miss and you feel the urge to open more packs until your body feels the reward chemicals released into your body. The value boosters are merely a product meant to prey on our emotions and desires using research to maximize squeezing money out of groups of people. That can not be replicated by buying cards on the secondary market. Wizards is selling a feeling. Other companies like card kingdom or tcgplayer sell cards. It is possible to sell emotions for a reasonable price but these products typically target people with addictive personalities and are exploitative. Do I think this new value booster is any more exploitative than any other random booster product? Currently, there are are a lot of unkowns. First, the price of a pack, or even an approximate price, has not been stated. There is no more msrp but they sometimes include an approximate cost. In the very short article that introduces this product, there is no discussion of the price. It is only stated that this is a more budget-friendly option for players that just want to open cards. The price is going to matter. Sometimes I would see pokemon or yugioh cards in family dollar or dollar tree. These packs were only a dollar and less than two dollars. As a parent, shutting my kid up with a one dollar pack while I shop could prove worth it. How many times did you beg your parent for something in a store as a kid that you didn't even really want? Getting mtg cards into these dollar stores will widen the audience that is exposed to the game. Now, kids will start to recognize mtg from a younger age because they see the products alongside pokemon cards. If the price of a pack is less than 2 dollars, I will say that the value pack will be a success. It is a cheap way to get cards into the hands of a younger audience. Society is typically much more ok with spending a buck or two on something rather than 5 dollars. Wizards of the Coast is releasing this new product to widen the brand and not really to sell more cards. These value packs are meant to expose children to mtg when they are young as an on ramp to the game when they are a little older. if I have mtg cards as a kid and then I see a crossover with my favorite franchise, then these marketing strategies are meant to continuously draw people back into the game. Expose someone to something when they are young and you may have hooked them for the rest of their lives.

[yupuffin]

I'd like able-bodied cosplayers to understand that when I say I adapt costume designs to my disability by reducing complexity during construction (namely for Genshin Impact, my current hyperfixation, which is also notorious for needlessly detailed costumes), I'm not simply skipping details because I feel like it* or "cutting corners" because I'm lazy.

It's like that one time a few years ago when I was on the second-to-last day of a sea kayaking trip with a group of other students from my college. Stick with me for this metaphor.

It was a ten-day-long trip, so we'd only packed what we could all fit on our kayaks, including food. Since we were nine days in, we were getting to the end of our food supplies--though, with our return to populated areas, we were able to make a grocery stop for ingredients for our final dinner of the trip, which would be a vegetable stir-fry.

We had $20 in the budget to buy ingredients for a meal to feed over a dozen people.

VOCALOID is one of my special interests, so the first words out of my mouth, without much consideration behind them, were "green onions."

In response, one of the guides wondered aloud, "Do green onions really add anything to a stir-fry?"

Don't get me wrong, I'll add green onions to any stir-fry given the opportunity; they do add that vaguely spicy-sweet kick that complements other flavors really well. So it's not like they don't add anything.

However, given our limited budget, in contrast to the size of the meal we had to make, it didn't make sense to spend a significant portion of our money on an ingredient that would function primarily as a garnish--something that serves mostly to enhance flavor; IIRC we ended up buying things like carrots and green peppers, which would instead add the substance we needed to make enough food for everyone.

With a disability that affects my motor control, constructing cosplays above a certain level of detail/complexity is like putting together a large meal on budget constraints--because I can only spend so long on a costume before I get burnt out, and every piece of fine detailing I add takes increasingly more time, just as every ingredient you add to a stir-fry takes increasingly more money.

So when I'm planning construction for a cosplay, it's like looking in the produce aisle of a grocery store and deciding what to spend $20 on. Metaphorically speaking, I'm going to want to prioritize details that add "substance," rather than those that function merely as a "garnish."

I have to look at every detail on the costume, think through how I would construct it--often multiple times, to ensure I'm using the optimal techniques--and consciously decide: What does this detail add to the costume? How much of my limited time and focus is it going to take? How well can I reliably replicate it given my disability? Considering all of these factors, does including this detail justify its contribution to the completed piece?

It's its own form of strategizing and problem-solving. I'm not doing it solely to make my life easier--I'm doing it because my disability effectively puts me on a sort of non-monetary budget and I have to optimize how I'm going to utilize that budget (on top of financially budgeting!).

Competitions, including cosplay competitions, are equal, not fair, so there's no way to completely remove ableism from cosplay judging. As you might say, judges gonna judge. They're just doing their job, and they get to make the final decisions in terms of scoring and placements, so I'm not going to pretend that I can influence the opinion of every cosplay judge out there with my metaphor.

Still, going forward, I'd like to see increased awareness of ableism in the cosplay environment--specifically, saving the judgment for the competition, and even then, realizing that a simple numerical score can never encapsulate the full nuance of any given cosplayer's experience with the construction of their piece; any number of factors you might initially think are conscious decisions on a cosplayer's part are actually responses to factors completely beyond their control, like dis/ability, budget, access to tools and materials, and other forms of privilege.

*Even if I am skipping details just because I feel like it, it's because I'd rather have a completed costume I can enjoy than get so frustrated and hung up on it that it makes me want to quit cosplay altogether. I resent that crunching and causing ourselves so many negative emotions over building a costume that just has to be perfect is so normalized that, from my experience, it's effectively a requirement for competitive cosplayers.

[biblioflyer]

Visible Mutations and Power Level: Same Storm, Different Boats.

Previously I discussed why X-Men as a setting is fundamentally pessimistic as a necessity according to the creative choices made. It is an essay in 5 parts:

1,2,3,4,5

A bonus chapter on the class dimensions of X-Men and how this informs the assumptions of the principle actors has exploded into an essay all on its own. As Tolkien would say, the tale grew in the telling.

This chapter examines different forms of privilege and liabilities.

Something that I only vaguely gestured at that a reader pointed out likely had profound significance was Xavier’s wealth and his ability to pass as Sapiens. At least until he was publicly outed by Gyrich. Of course, as the old trope goes, much like any straight ally was automatically presumed to be gay not even all that long ago, Xavier was long the subject of rumors.

Xavier’s wealth and status as Human passing very likely plays a role in influencing his rosier outlook on Human affairs compared to Magneto. That isn’t to say that Xavier has faced no hardship, but money has a way of buying discretion. Xavier’s lifestyle adds an extra layer of security atop his already discreet powers in a few different ways.

High society can be unapologetic gossips and gatekeepers, but money opens doors that might be denied to more lowly specimens around whom there are rumors of having unnatural abilities. Additionally, large estates protect privacy and easy international travel means Charles can lay low if he has an outburst that raises suspicions.

All in all, except for when Gyrich attacks him and triggers a public display of his abilities, Charles has always been the one in charge of who gets to know he is a Mutant. As a consequence, while I firmly agree with Xavier’s ideals at the level of principle, Xavier has a natural bias towards optimism. 

For his reality checks, he has to rely on empathy and the occasional direct exposure to someone’s memories and the trauma contained within, to understand how challenging it is to be a Mutant, especially a visible Mutant, in the world outside of Xavier’s mansion without resources or allies.

As a telepath who has done deep trauma work with the likes of Wolverine, Rogue, Sabertooth, and Magneto: I’m inclined to cut Charles quite a bit of slack. I think it's important to remember that he has willingly thrust himself into the minds of people who have had some of the worst experiences a human being, Sapiens or Mutatis, can have. That when he comes out of their minds he is surrounded by the trappings of inherited wealth matters, but attributing complete insensitivity and ignorance to him seems overly harsh.

For the moral messaging of the setting, it matters that Xavier is someone who acts as the trauma sponge for everyone who shows up on his doorstep, even the likes of Sabertooth, and still wakes up most days and chooses to pursue justice within Human created power systems and advocates for an integrated society. 

Notably, Xavier’s path of integration means that he himself implicitly is seeking a legal system that is recognized as having legitimacy by both Humans and Mutants. That legal system is one that could, at least in theory, hold Xavier accountable if used his powers in a manner deemed unacceptable by Human and Mutantkind. 

This is, again in theory, at least one answer to something I’m calling “the Omega problem.” Some Humans are granted inordinate power by various social constructs like presidencies, directorships, expertise, and wealth itself, ultimately even the top 1% of all special operators can’t really hope to personally, through force or the threat of force, impose their will upon more than a handful of people at a time with the right equipment without their luck running out. Ask King Charles I (England), Czar Nicholas II, Saddam Hussein, Moamar Qaddaffi, or Yevgeny Prigozhin how well things work out for a mere mortal when the social construct that empowers them is dissolved. Even the Ancient Egyptians were known to expedite the cycle of Pharaoh incarnating as Osiris in the Underworld so that a new, more pliable god on Earth could embody Horus.

Next: How Mutant powers scramble the assumptions behind Human systems of justice in a manner guaranteed to cause panic.

[icyhotheartwritings]

Tl;dr of the unasked for Pat Parelli rant

-Pat Parelli is a con artist who beat his wife and scams people out of their money using extremely clever language

-Don’t even get me started on Parelli’s use of “horsenality” which assigns the stupid left-brain right-brain thing to horses. Along with introvert/extrovert but that’s semi-excusable. But, seriously… he’s advertising these horses as left-brain extroverts and right-brain introverts. Which, as I’ll touch on later, appeals to one market which makes the whole thing feel a bit suspicious.

-Liberty work IS an extremely valid way of working with horses, I partake in some level myself, but Parelli touts his methods as the only valid way while charging hundreds of dollars to “move up” levels in his program (where you aren’t even “allowed” to ride until level 3).

-Parelli’s website will sell you the same shit you can get at Tractor Supply or your local feed store for double the price, sometimes more.

-The most egregious item might be the Pat Parelli’s Rancher Roper, priced at $6,250. You can get a custom saddle fitted to your horse for less. My most high end saddle cost a staggering $600.

-Don’t have a horse? Don’t worry, Pat Parelli has your back! For the low low price of $5000-$150,000 (NOT a typo), you can get your very own Parelli trained horse! Purchases less than $25,000 even get levels 1-3 of the online program for free! Wow! Purchases above the price of a small down payment can claim 10 whole days of training with Pat Parelli himself! Just think, what else would you have spent that money on? I mean, a normal trainer costs about $3k/mo, what a deal Pat Parelli is giving you! For the cost of 8-50 months of training you get ten whole days with him and a horse!

-The most expensive horse at the moment, a 12 year old German Warmblood priced at $150k, only scores an 84/100 on the Parelli assessment… with a 6/10 on “Parelli Training.” It might just be me, but if I was buying a horse for more than some homes cost I would want that number to be a little higher in the training department than the 9.5/10 he got in “Look.” I’ve seen him sell an 11 year old gelding for $300k whose top characteristic was “very handsome.” Over half of this year’s highly bred Kentucky Derby horses cost less than that.

-For a quick horse price reference I have never paid $1k for a horse and my current budget is a bit over $5k. For $5k I had the opportunity to buy a dead broke papered quarter horse gelding under 10 years old. I would be hard pressed to pay $5k for a horse over maybe 13 years old unless it had like, insane breeding and/or training. Pat Parelli is selling a 16 year old mare for $15k.

-If you need more Pat Parelli in your life, you can join his campus program for 24-48 weeks for just $1000/week, where you’ll perform exciting horse training activities like building fences, a skill specifically mentioned in the application! Of course, you can only apply for this course after you’ve paid your hundreds to thousands for mere access to the online courses and additional materials and your $60 fee for each video application to move up a level! What a bargain!

-For his next in person event, you can lease a horse for the bargain price of $600/week on top of the $6500-10000 tuition for the two week program!

-Parelli’s program very clearly appeals to new, young, inexperienced horse owners. On the application to join his $1000/week program it’s asked how many hours you have spent riding a horse across your life. I’ve owned my own horse since I was 5 and started taking lessons at 4. My horse riding experience is old enough to join the US military. No way in hell would I be able to even BEGIN to calculate the amount of time I’ve spent riding. (I’m sure there’s something to say about the fact that this mostly appeals to women, and the former comments about how he treats his wife…)

-Pat Parelli’s cult feeds off of some weird form of elitism. Everyone who follows another method is wrong and abusive. Only members of Parelli’s program are good horse owners, and the more people you can convert to his methods (and website) the more good you do for horses. You’d never see a fan of Monty Roberts saying that.

-For context on training prices I’m taking an hour lesson with a trainer on my buddy’s horse to see if I mesh with the trainer for $70. Highest I’ve personally seen was under $200 a lesson and she’s a HUGE name in a specific breed. Dominates the show scene. Everyone knows her. Even the aforementioned Monty Roberts, one of THE big horse training names for DECADES only charges $300/hr for a 1-on-1 video call. Sending your horse off for training with 1-3 lessons a week usually runs $3k/mo.

-Pat Parelli isn’t fit to kiss my fucking ass.

[drelldreams]

My thoughts on the asari promiscuity rumor

Asari are commonly rumored to be promiscious. Liara outright states that asari are often seen as promiscuous by other races. When Liara expresses her opinion that the rachni queen should be saved, Wrex will ask if the asari are looking for a new race to cuddle up to. If Wreav is the leader of the krogan in ME3, and Shepard asks him if he’s ready to take on a Reaper, Wreav responds with “That’s like asking if an asari is ready to mate.”

But is this really true? Are asari, as a whole, a promiscuous race?

I don’t think so.

Liara tells us in ME1 that asari promiscuity is a mere myth. Of course Liara could be lying, trying to give her race a good image. But is Liara that type of person? I do not believe she is. Sooner or later Shepard would note if asari were really that promiscious. And honestly I see Liara as a very honest person overall.

Plus, it’s not like it’s likely that asari view promiscuity as something to be ashamed of. There’s most likely little to no stigma against promiscuity in their culture. So why would Liara lie?

But that’s not the only reason why I think it’s just a myth.

I believe there are some cultural misunderstandings:

- Perhaps people assume that the fact that so many asari choose to be strippers, or that many of them wear revealing clothes, is an indicator for promiscuity.

I do believe, however, that the asari may not even consider breasts, for example, to be sexually appealing. Therefore they would not consider an outfit with low cut cleavage to be sexually provocating. Maybe they have much different views on nudity. Perhaps, you could walk around on Thessia topless and nobody would see it as something sexual.

Then, regarding the dancing, they may just be aware that other species find them appealing and make use of that. If dancing is your hobby and you wanna make lots of money, why not consider a career into stripping, when you know most aliens go wild for you?

- People of other species may know little about the mind meld and have wrong ideas of it. They may never have read upon different types of melding but only heard about melding in Fornax magazines or asari porn games. And thus they associate melding with a sexual act. Those people may assume that every asari they’ve known to have melded with someone had a sexual relationship to them, when that was not the case. “Embrace eternity” might be a phrase “ruined” by bad porn, causing many people to assume “Embrace eternity” inherintely is some form of mind sex, when it is also said when exchanging memories, or information.

- The fact that asari date individuals of all species, including vorcha, is exploited by using it as evidence for their promiscuity. By certain industries, they’re portrayed as super lustful blue aliens who would mate with just anyone, ‘even’ a vorcha. That is useful for business. You’d think a horny alien would offer more tips and buy more drinks at the strip club because if asari mate with anyone but not me, maybe I will have to try impress her more? If they’re such a promiscuous race, surely that stripper over there will sleep with me if I tip her enough?

- There’s the possibility that asari tend to be naturally more charming and that may come across as flirtatious. Or perhaps they are more physically affectionate than other species, leading other people to believe the asari are dating whoever they’re kissing the cheek or holding hands with.