#Continuing Appropriations and Extensions Act

[govtshutdown]

Here it is, our current hope to avert a shutdown. This would extend FY2024 spending until December 20th, setting us up for a Christmas showdown in a lame duck session of what has been one of the worst sessions of Congress in our history.

Also included in this CR are multiple extensions of expiring programs and waivers as well as a compact of Free Association with the Republic of Palau. It's relatively short reading if you have the time.

[blindtaleteller]

Tags.

Trying to figure out how stopping for a little treat at Target added up to $200...

[hyperfixation-fix]

Just a reminder as we're all becoming continuing to be feral for season 2 of PJO

They're kids.

And as much as I love all the "omg he's totally Percy!!", just remember that he's not. They're actors. They're doing a phenomenal job and we're really lucky to have them as a fandom, but... remember that they've signed up for a big job at a very young age. It's our duty as a fandom (especially a fandom with a lot of adults in it) to protect them, make sure that they are being respected, and (APPROPRIATELY) call out inappropriate and/or disrespectful behaviour when we see it. If anyone needs it, I've put some examples below the cut.

✅Appropriate ✅

"Walker is such an incredible Percy!!!" "Leah does such a great job portraying Annabeth!!!!" "Their dynamic is amazing!!!"

"I don't like the way Walker plays Percy - I always saw him as XYZ." "I don't like Lea as Annabeth. It's just not how I saw her." (borderline. consider why you can't see Annabeth as anything except white. but if you're being polite, I'll give you a grudging pass)

Fully clothed/non-sexual fanart of the actors (in or out of character) (romantic is okay)

Posting/reposting consenting photos, (respectful) edits, etc of the actors in or out of character

Discussing details of their personal lives that the actors have chosen to share with the public (but don't make it weird, ok?)

❌Inappropriate❌

"Walker and Leah need to date irl, they have so much chemistry!!" uh. no. You're seeing *acting*. Leave their personal lives out of it

"Annabeth being played by a black actor is ridiculous, wokeness is getting out of control" or any variation upon that sentiment. Honestly just fuck off. Also (and yes this is a sub tweet) recolouring fanart that depicts Annabeth as black? Absolutely not. If you absolutely have to, go do your own fucking artwork like a normal human being instead of a racist POS.

Raunchy/suggestive/sexual fanart of the actors (in or out of character). Nope. They are children. Stop it. Don't care if you're "aging them up". Imagine how that feels for them.

Posting/reposting photos where the actors aren't/don't seem to be consenting to the photo

Speculating on or pressuring the actors to reveal ANY DETAILS about their private lives. This includes, but is far from limited to: their contact details/locations, their sexuality, their relationships, their diagnoses, their politics (they're still really young... idk about you guys but my political opinions were hot garbage at 16. they get a (moderate) pass until they're at least 18)

These are obviously non-extensive lists. Please use your brain, and, if in doubt, don't post it.

Also, if you see inappropriate behaviour, please don't be an idiot about it. First course of action should always be politely talking to the person in private. After that, yes, it may be appropriate to start publicly calling them out. Having said that, remember that teens can be dumb (speaking from lived experience...), so let's give them some grace. Ignoring, reporting, blocking, and not engaging is sometimes the best thing you can do for dumbasses, especially if they're attention-seeking.

I love you all and I have complete faith that we, as a fandom, can rally and make sure the cast knows that they are loved and respected.

[myerssimp21]

Batcave Meeting (YAN!Pt.3)

Romantic!Yandere!Batfam Part 3. Part 1, Part 2 here (context: Tim Drake purposefully got aphrodisiac'd when fighting Ivy and then went over to Darling's apartment to smash. This is a batfamily meeting about that and how to move forward.).

As you obliviously drifted to sleep, the live feed of you doing so was being projected onto a big screen in the BatCave while members joined together at a table, casually watching you as you yawned and readjusted against your pillow. The imposing man situated at the end of the table clasped his hands together, regarding the young men in front of him. Once everyone was seated, the imposing man began speaking to them, noticing how many of them had their eyes glued to the screen.

"We're going to discuss what happened the other day and plan for next week," he announced, and the pouty brunette who had had a frown on his face now crossed his arms.

"Allow me to explain it from my perspective first, Father," he said, sporting a moody expression, "You and Drake were unexpectedly out of commission during your patrol, which, while not typical, is understandable given our line of work."

His eyes flicker over to Tim and Jason, narrowing in contempt and disgust.

"Todd and Drake both know how important our duty to Gotham is," Damian continued while making eye contact with Jason, "But instead of prioritizing that, they let their impulses get the better of them. Drake especially for instigating the situation. Using Ivy's aphrodisiac to... indulge with our darling? It's selfish, reckless, and disrespectful."

"Damian, hold on a second," Jason interjected, "I had no idea about the aphrodisiac. It was my night off so I was sleeping in and missed Bruce's calls when he and Tim got doused in it. I only woke up because the audio feed from her apartment was turned up and I heard them together. I blew up Tim's phone and went over when he left because I was pissed, and I didn't realize that was why she couldn't get enough. I feel really bad about it now that I know."

Damian's expression softened subtly as he absorbed Jason's explanation. Despite his composed demeanor, the tension still lingered in his features.

"I appreciate your honesty, Todd," Damian conceded, his tone slightly softer, "It's still not acceptable that she was acting strangely and this was not analyzed, but I understand that the situation was...unconventional."

As Jason and Damian had a moment of newfound comradery, Tim finally spoke up, "I understand your frustrations, but you need to know that I researched Ivy's aphrodisiac extensively before I ever considered using it. I made sure it wouldn't have any adverse health effects on anybody and appropriately calculated the risks."

Damian's expression darkened further, his negative feelings towards Drake beginning to truly show. "This isn't just about general safety or the safety of some substance!" he exclaimed, "It's about respect and her consent. You had no right to manipulate her like that, whether or not it posed a physical risk."

"Come on, Damian," Tim retorted, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his voice. "She didn't find out about the aphrodisiac, did she? So what's the big deal? It's not like we hurt her or anything. She's fine, and she doesn't even know what happened. In fact, she likes us even more because I made a move for us. Why are you making a big deal out of nothing?"

Jason scoffed, his distaste in Tim at this point evident. "Seriously, Tim? You're gonna act like a douchebag just because she didn't find out? That's messed up, even for you."

"It's not just about the immediate consequences," Damian shot back, his voice angrier. "It's about the long-term impact on her. I bet you didn't even stop to consider how your actions could affect her, or how they could undermine the trust she has in us. And what about the ripple effect it could have on her relationships with all of us? He's playing with fire, Father, and he needs to be held accountable."

"Let's not overlook the bigger issue here," Tim said, his voice defensive, "What I did was perverted, I admit that. But let's not pretend that bugging and wiring her apartment is any less invasive. That's hardly consensual either."

"Don't you dare deflect the issue!" Damian's voice rose, and he was now yelling, "We implemented those measures for her safety, not for our own entertainment! It's a gross violation of her privacy, but at least we did it to protect her!"

"Oh? And having two separate cameras staring at her bed is going to what, protect her from bad dreams?"

"Dami, Tim, let's try to keep our cool here," Dick interjected gently, easing in to defuse the tension, "We're all on the same team, remember? We need to work together to figure this out."

Damian turned to Dick with a measured gaze, "I want to hear your perspective on this matter, Grayson."

Dick sighed, solemnly addressing Drake. “Tim, what you did wasn't just a mistake. It was a deliberate breach of trust. She relies on us to keep her safe and instead of focusing on that, you exploited her vulnerability.”

"Also," and Dick seemed more pained at this part, "You betrayed our trust. We all care about her and you influenced her desires for your own gain."

Tim sat in silence, his expression filled with shame as he began to realize the gravity of his actions. He knew he had acted irresponsibly, and the weight of their words hung heavy in the air. Jason and Dick exchanged silent glances, their disappointment evident in their expressions.

Damian took a deep centering breath before focusing his attention back on Tim.

"This isn't about whether she found out or not, Drake. If you still don't understand that, then we need to take more drastic measures to address and punish this behavior. Father, I appeal to you to implement anything you deem necessary to prevent such behavior in the future. We cannot allow such indecent actions against her to to be repeated."

Bruce, understanding the severity of the situation and having now heard everyone's perspective, nodded solemnly at Damian.

"Tim, in light of your actions, there are going to be some consequences," Bruce stated firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You need to schedule therapy with Dr. Thompkins to address the troubling attitude that led to this situation. While we have taken invasive measures to monitor her, as Damian pointed out, your actions went beyond that."

He paused, allowing the weight of his words to sink in before continuing. "Until you've attended and Dr. Thompkins deems it appropriate, you will be restricted from having any contact with _____."

Finally, Bruce's gaze softened slightly as he looked at both Damian and Tim. "And Tim, it's imperative that you and Damian eventually reconcile. We're a team, and we need to remain united in our goals and overall behavior. I expect both of you to work towards rebuilding your relationship for the sake of the team and our darling."

"Damian," Bruce addressed his son, "since Tim will no longer be able to have contact with her, I'm assigning you a new responsibility. You will substitute him as her school friend and be someone she can rely on for assistance with homework and company. I want you to pick a class of hers that sounds interesting to you and make sure you're there to support her. It's important that she has someone she can trust and rely on, especially now. It's an opportunity for you to show her that she can count on us."

As the meeting continued, Damian spoke up, "I'll join her art class. It will allow me to assist her with her assignments and ensure she receives the academic support she needs."

Bruce nodded in approval. "Good choice, Damian. Make sure to approach this responsibility with care and dedication."

Turning to Jason, Bruce's expression grew serious. "Jason, I need you to be especially understanding and supportive towards her. If she feels troubled or has any lingering negative thoughts about what happened, I expect you to be there for her."

"Of course, Bruce," Jason says, eyes fixated on the now-sleeping figure of their darling on the cameras, "I'll do whatever it takes."

Dick now spoke up, "Can we talk about introducing me as Jason's roommate?"

Bruce shook his head, "Not yet; I want to make sure Damian successfully integrates first. You can still frequent around her job but no more interactions than that."

"Except for as a vigilante?" Dick replies hopefully, and Bruce gives him a measured gaze similar to his son's.

"Yes, although I expect you to exercise patience and primarily work in Blüdhaven for now."

Damian cuts in, "And don't be like Drake and fabricate a reason for her to need you."

"Damian," Bruce says in a tired voice, "I've made myself clear."

Damian looks down with an expression like he's biting his tongue and contempt is bright in his eyes, "Sorry, Father."

With that, the meeting concluded, each member of the Batfamily knowing the roles they had to play in ensuring their darling's well-being and trust remained intact.

[irisintheafterglow]

like we’re made of starlight (timeskip!iwa x you)

summary: on the night of your birthday, you accompany hajime to the olympic team's new year's celebration, meeting the players and receiving a small surprise.

wc: 1.78k

cw/tags: swearing, alcohol and drinking, established relationship, crack and fluff and atsumu being dumb, one (1) down bad iwaizumi hajime, implied fem!reader but they/them pronouns used

note: this is dedicated to the #1 iwa lover @shotorus <3 i hope you have a spectacular birthday and enjoy this little thing for you and your man :))

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated !

“You know, if I’d known they planned this whole shabang on your birthday, I would have asked them to reschedule.” He squints skeptically at the colorful strobe lights shining outside of the club, one of the most prestigious in the city and the venue for the Olympic team’s belated New Year celebration. You could only imagine how loud the inside of the club would be, especially since it already seemed overwhelming outside and you weren’t even in the building yet. “I promise I’ll make it up to you this weekend, something a little…quieter.” 

“It’s okay, really,” you reassure him, setting a comforting hand on his thigh as he continues to bounce his leg in the driver’s seat. You run your thumb over the expensive fabric of his dress pants and he visibly relaxes, releasing a deep exhale and giving you an apologetic smile. The line for the valet was long and your boyfriend had politely declined your suggestion for him to hop out while you get the car situated. “I’m here for you and to meet the guys.” 

“That’s also something I’m a little anxious about,” he admits.

“How so?”

“They can get a little wild at these kinds of celebrations.”

“Well, we can bail whenever we want, right?” He nods, still a little unsure. “So, if the vibe is off or people start getting a little too wild, we leave and eat soup on the couch with a movie on.” The last comment about lounging around finally makes him smile and you lean over to press a light kiss on the side of his face, taking note of the way his ears become a little pinker even in the darkness of his car. A few minutes later, Hajime helps you step out of the car, tug on your coat and leads you to the entrance of the club, bypassing the extensive line with a tilt of his head to the bouncer. 

“This place was 100% Bokuto’s idea,” he mutters when you both step inside. “It’s like we’re at a frat party again.” A club employee escorts you up the stairs to a private, second floor balcony that overlooks the dance floor. “All the lights and music and drunk people is very reminiscent of that one during–”

“During junior year, second semester. The one I dragged you out of your dorm for because my roommates flaked out and I didn’t know anyone else to go with,” you grin, looking down at him over your shoulder as you climb the stairs. He’s quick to close any remaining space between you two once you reach the landing, snaking a protective arm around your shoulders while the employee gestures for you to join the rest of Hajime’s coworkers. “Except this time, everyone’s of age to drink.”

“In theory,” he murmurs. “I still think Hinata’s younger than he says he is.” You stifle a snort into your fist and catch him smirking before you’re bombarded by several suit-clad athletes with varying levels of alcohol intoxication. “Watch out for Atsumu. He spit-talks when he’s drunk.”

“Our beloved trainer has arrived!” On cue, the more chaotic Miya twin appears in front of you with one arm slung around his Jackal teammate, a buzzed-looking Bokuto, and followed closely by Hinata and Sakusa. “What took you so long?”

“I couldn’t find my good cufflinks,” he shrugs, revealing the silver volleyballs hiding on the inside of his wrists, the ones you got him on his first anniversary of working as a trainer. “Thought they were appropriate for the occasion.” You smile, watching your boyfriend act as cool and casual as ever, even in the face of his very enthusiastic colleagues. “I, uh, have someone for you all to meet,” he says, glancing at you with a questioning glint in his eye. Are you ready? You nod, taking a deep breath as he introduces you as his partner. 

“Like, in business?” Atsumu asks with such a genuine expression that makes you giggle. Behind him, you can see Sakusa slap an exasperated palm against his forehead. “You have a secret side hustle?” You bite your lip to keep from laughing too hard and look up to find your boyfriend with a similar expression. 

“No, dude,” Bokuto says slowly. “He means like, romantically. Like, a life partner.” Atsumu’s eyes widened to the size of car tires. “A partner for life, you know?” 

“Holy shit, you’re married?” You catch Sakusa mouth oh my god under his breath before he walks away from his dumbfounded teammate. Hinata is quick to steer both of his friends to a table before they fall over and rejoins the conversation as Hajime introduces you to the more collected players of the group. 

You shake hands with the stoic skyscraper that is Ushijima as well as receive a warm hug from Komori. Both note how great it was to finally meet you in person after your boyfriend seemed to never stop talking about you, before the man in question hurriedly introduces you to another player. Suna and Sakusa are quietly polite but open up more once you ask them about how training is going for the next Olympic games. While you chat with them, Hajime pulls over Aran and Yaku, introducing you as his partner with poorly hidden pride. Once they’ve assimilated into your conversation, he disappears into the herds of players and staff again to no doubt drag out another coworker.

“Forgive him for coming and going so much,” Yaku says apologetically. “I think he’s been waiting to show you off for a long time, even if he won’t admit it.”

“He’s really excited for people to meet me, huh?”

“I’ve never seen him this hyper and I’ve been drunk at a karaoke bar with him,” a new voice says who introduces himself as Kuroo, a tall guy with spiky hair that you remember Hajime arguing with over the phone several times. “Our offices are right next to each other and I like to play pranks every so often,” he explains when you ask him about why your boyfriend yells at him so much.

“Technically, it’s his fault for being out of the office so often,” Suna reasons. “And I only say that because I’m one of the accomplices to the office pranks. We all are.”

“I bought the wrapping paper for the one on his car,” Aran adds. “Yaku pitched in for the Post It notes on April Fools day, but we don’t let Atsumu in on the pranks anymore ‘cause he talks too much.” Your mouth gapes in disbelief, unable to imagine the organized, well put-together machine that is your boyfriend getting pranked so easily. 

“It’s only because we love him as a trainer, though.” Yaku is backed up by nods of agreement from the rest of his team. “He really loves his job; I think the only thing he loves more than volleyball is–”

“You, obviously.” Hajime returns from fishing out people to introduce to you, easily finding his place by your side. “They tell you about how much they fuck up my office?” The perpetrators’ voices overlap each other in protest, arguing that he’s the one who keeps leaving his door unlocked. “Yeah, yeah. Just you wait until I get this one in on pranks against you guys.” He tilts his head towards you and is met with friendly taunts of competition, saying that you’re too nice to prank them or that they’d never fall for any of his pranks. His head dips to whisper in your ear while the team is preoccupied with debating what song to request from the DJ to create one big Olympic flashmob. “Mind if I steal you away, real quick?”

“Of course. But be fast; you need to be back in time for the big dance number,” you tease and he rolls his eyes with an amused smile, lacing his fingers in yours and pulling you down a back hallway of the club. The black walls reflect the moody shades of pink, orange, and blue shining from the lights above and you find that the music isn’t as loud in the little corner he finds for you two. When you’re ready, he pulls out a small box tied with a ribbon from his pocket.

“Wanted to give you this on your actual birthday but didn’t want Atsumu’s big mouth to ruin it out there,” he says and you chuckle, carefully taking the box from his fingers and unwrapping the bow. You pull off the lid and find a delicately silver chain threaded through a pendant indented to resemble a volleyball; flipping it over and admiring it in the light, you discover a stamped “H” on the back that only appears when the light hits it just right. 

“Hajime, this is beautiful,” you breathe. 

“You like it?”

“I love it.” You remove the necklace from the box, but before you can fasten it around your neck, he stops you. 

“May I?”

“You are a hopeless romantic,” you grin. 

“Only for you.” His fingers brushing your neck send goosebumps over your skin and he carefully secures the chain at the back. 

“How do I look?” You turn to face him and see his pupils blown wide open, licking his lips and blinking to maintain his restraint. 

“Like you’re mine,” he rasps and he closes the remaining distance between your bodies, letting your back hit the wall and tilting your chin up with two fingers to kiss you. Your fingers comb through his hair and he groans into your mouth when you tug on it experimentally. His hands firmly grip your waist while he kisses you infuriatingly slowly, like he was savoring this private moment without the prying eyes of his teammates. He pulls away to breathe but doesn’t go far, nudging his nose against yours. “The guys didn’t say anything dumb to you, did they?”

“No, but they did let me know how much you talk about me,” you whisper and he rolls his eyes again, your eyelashes brushing his face when he leans in close again. “And how much your dumbass gets pranked.” 

“In my defense–” You cut him off with an uncontrollable fit of laughter, one that he joins into with a tired shake of his head. “You know what? I don’t have a defense. Happy birthday, my love.” He presses a sweet kiss to the top of your forehead. “Every day I think about what I did to deserve someone like you.”

“You existed and I found you,” you say simply. “That’s just how it works and now you’re stuck with me and all my future birthdays.”

“You say that like I’m not ready to grow old with you in any lifetime.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this press release from the Department of the Interior:

Following an extensive public process, Secretary of the Interior Deb Haaland today finalized the decision to retain protections for 28 million acres of public lands across Alaska, which many Alaska Native Tribes, Native Corporations and Tribal entities have noted are vital to protecting important natural, cultural and subsistence resources. Today’s action comes in response to the previous Administration’s unlawful decision in its final days to end the longstanding protections (known as withdrawals) without sufficient analysis of the potential impacts of such a decision on subsistence and other important resources, appropriate Tribal consultation, and without compliance with other legal requirements. This sweeping action would have opened millions of acres of public lands to extractive development activities, such as mining and oil and gas drilling, and removed the federal subsistence priority from millions of acres.

The previous Administration’s decision was put on hold to ensure full consideration of the potential impacts and allow for engagement with the public and Alaska Native communities. The robust public process gathered input from Alaska Native Tribes and Native Corporations, rural and urban communities, and the public, including 19 community meetings. During the public comment period, the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) heard overwhelming support for retaining the withdrawals. In total, the BLM received approximately 15,000 public comments on the draft Environmental Impact Statement (EIS).

“Tribal consultation must be treated as a requirement – not an option – when the federal government is making decisions that could irrevocably affect Tribal communities. I am grateful to the team at the Bureau of Land Management for taking the time to ensure that we approached this decision with the benefit of feedback from Alaska Native communities, and to the Tribal leaders who shared with us the impact that a potential revocation of the withdrawals would have on their people,” said Secretary Deb Haaland. “Continuing these essential protections, which have been in place for decades, will ensure continued access and use of these public lands now and in the future.”

Today’s announcement builds on the Biden-Harris administration’s actions to conserve millions of acres of lands and waters in Alaska, including implementing maximum protections for more than 13 million acres of Special Areas in the western Arctic, protecting approximately 2.8 million acres of the Beaufort Sea to place the entire United States Arctic Ocean off limits to new oil and gas leasing, and preventing irrevocable harms to Tribal subsistence uses and permafrost at the base of the iconic Brooks Range by rejecting the Ambler Road proposal.

These withdrawals, established pursuant to Section 17(d)(1) of the Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act (ANCSA), stretch across BLM’s Bay, Bering Sea-Western Interior, East Alaska, Kobuk-Seward Peninsula and Ring of Fire planning areas.

Today’s decision does not impact acres already available for selection by eligible individuals under the Alaska Native Vietnam-era Veterans Land Allotment Program. Secretary Haaland has made these lands available to the approximately 1,900 Alaska Native Vietnam-era Veterans eligible to select their 160-acre land entitlement under the Dingell Act.

[cecilysass]

Beacon (5/6)

Read on AO3 | Tagging @today-in-fic and my poangpal @libbytxf

Chapter 5

Shortly after the Kromkowskis leave, Mulder finds himself being fed a simple dinner at the kitchen table across from Scully. He’s aware of Banoy making conversation—something about the chances of more snow tonight—and of Scully responding appropriately, but he’s having trouble following the thread of conversation.

He’s continually scanning every corner of the room, for one. She could show up again any moment, and that could be it for Fox Mulder. Drowned over his uneaten chicken breast.

He also keeps mentally cataloguing all the things he hasn’t done yet in his life, and it’s an extensive list. When Duncan asks if there’s been any progress in their investigation, Mulder can’t even manage to look up from his plate.

“Some progress,” Scully replies politely. “But we have no new information to share.”

“No ghost fighting tips then?” Banoy says from the sink.

“No,” Scully says. Mulder feels her eyes on him. “Aside from some superstitious advice that lighting the brass lanterns is good luck.”

“I’ve always loved all the brass lanterns in this house,” Banoy says wistfully.

“Well. I know you’ll keep us in the loop,” Duncan says. He takes her plate away, but leaves Mulder’s, which is still mostly full. Duncan and Banoy shift their attention to the dishes.

Scully raps the table in front of Mulder’s plate with her fingertip, and he reluctantly raises his head. She folds her hands and juts her chin at an angle, directing her shrewd gaze at Mulder.

“So,” she says. “After dinner, more research?” She’s been giving Mulder pointed looks for the entire meal, and of course he knows why. He’s acting weird. Even weirder than usual.

“Okay. Yeah.” He picks up his napkin and wipes his mouth, trying to pull himself together. Normalcy. “You want to go upstairs and dial up on the computer? We could… see if we can find out what Elena Denney got up to online.”

At least that would keep him and Scully from being alone, a state in which he assumes they are both more vulnerable to murderous ghosts.

“That sounds like a good idea,” she agrees. Her eyes fall on his barely-touched chicken uncertainly. “I’ll just … go upstairs and get started while you finish up.”

She begins to stand up from the table, and he has a brief flash of her small hands clutching at her white throat, her mouth opening as she chokes on invisible sea water. It makes him shudder.

“Wait,” he says quickly, too loud. Her attention locks back on him. “I’m, um, already done. We can walk up together.”

***

Crowded around his computer, they manage to uncover some evidence of Elena Denney’s online life. Specifically, they find a series of posts from her email address sent to a gothic literature discussion group.

“The horrifying, the macabre, tales from the cusp of death.” Mulder reads the description.

They’re sitting on the edge of his bed, the computer resting on the antique washstand, requiring some leaning in. She is close, warm, wearing a soft gray sweater, smelling like that cherry lip stuff she uses in dry weather. Her hair keeps brushing against his cheek when they both move towards the screen. Every subtle little note of attraction he normally feels as an undercurrent now seems like a big ass wave. If he thinks about any of this too much, he feels like crying.

“This discussion group seems suspiciously heavy on the topic of ghosts, doesn’t it?” Scully observes, her eyes scanning the subject lines. “Maybe this interest is what brought her to the Inn to begin with.”

“Elena seems tight with this one poster, this NeverMorris294.” Mulder points at the name on the screen. “They’re always going back and forth with one another. Maybe he or she is the focus of her longing.”

“We could call Washington to start the process of requesting access to her email account to find out,” Scully suggests.

“Yeah,” Mulder says unenthusiastically.

“Tomorrow I’ll call and talk to Skinner,” she says decisively. “We can call her family back in Indiana, see what they have to say.”

He doesn’t want to say it, since it doesn’t sound like him—or really like any investigating agent on a case—but finding out the specifics feels utterly pointless.

So Elena was some lady from Indianapolis longing for more with NeverMorris294, or NeverMorris294 was longing for more with her. What does it matter? Either way, someone’s unbalanced, painful desire ended in the death of a heart.

It’s awful. Sickening. Relatable. And Mulder really doesn’t want to know anything else about it. Maybe because he’s going to be dead by the time they get Bureau resources involved anyway.

Scully reaches forward to scroll to the most recent message. “Look,” she says quickly, grabbing his leg. “It’s from the day she was murdered.” She turns to look back at him, her cheeks pink and eyes bright. “Mulder, she’s posting about the ghost.”

Mulder nods back. He can’t even answer; it’s like his mouth is full of cotton.

Scully reads Elena’s words from the screen: “I can say with confidence now that not every spirit leaves the mortal coil. Each of the three times I’ve seen this ghost has been with increasing clarity, and this most recent time there was an accompanying aural effect, too: the sounds of ocean waves, loud and unmistakable, in my ears.”

He thinks about the faint hushed sound he heard in the lobby. “Her last words, I guess,” he says.

“As far as we know.” She ponders for a moment. “Maybe we should talk to—”

“No,” he says with finality. “No more research tonight.”

“I didn’t necessarily mean tonight,” she says, drawing back in surprise. “I’m just thinking of other—”

“I mean it, Scully,” he says, monotone. “Just stop. This is done.”

“Done?” Her eyes narrow. “Mulder, what are you talking about?”

He doesn’t want to answer her. He closes his eyes.

He just wishes Scully would run far away from him. But he also deeply wishes he could pull her little body to him right now, that he could kiss that puzzled expression right off of her face.

If he didn’t have such concrete ghostly evidence that she doesn’t feel the same way, he might try. Instead he sits there trying not to think about the taste of that cherry lip balm.

“This is pointless,” he mutters. He covers his face with his hands and concentrates on listening to the sounds of his breathing while he can.

***

Scully stares at him in dismay, trying to make sense of this emotional response. It’s like he’s a punctured balloon, his air rushing out, crumpling further and further in on himself.

“Are you… okay?” she attempts again.

“Yeah,” he says. He pauses. His shoulders slump and he pulls his hands away from his face. “I’m just … discouraged.”

If she knows Mulder, he has every imaginable worst case scenario in his mind. She resists the urge to reach out and run her hand through his hair.

“Maybe we should go to bed,” Scully suggests, tucking her hair behind her ear, “and think about this fresh tomorrow.”

When he doesn’t respond, she stands up to leave, smoothing her clothing. Her own eyes are starting to feel heavy, so she knows bed is a sensible idea. They can’t figure out anything if they can’t think clearly. Maybe in the morning he will be in a better mood.

She’s startled by Mulder’s hand latching abruptly onto her wrist.

“Wait.” His grip is very tight. “Wait … a little longer, Scully.”

She forces herself to tamp down the unexpected flare of heat that this rough touch provokes.

“All right,” she says, swallowing. She sits down again on the bed, unsure what else to do. “Why?”

“Just… please stay longer,” he says, looking down at the floor, as if ashamed. “Please don’t ask why.”

There’s a pause as Scully looks around the room, her head spinning. “You’re … afraid, aren’t you?” Her voice sounds high-pitched and girlish to her ears. “You don’t want to be alone.”

He nods heavily.

“You think if you’re alone—”

“Scully, I know what you’re going to say,” he says, sounding tired. “You’re going to say it’s not real, there’s no such thing as ghosts—”

“No,” she interrupts, reaching out to awkwardly touch his arm. “No, I’m not going to say that, Mulder. I …understand why you feel like this. I’ll stay.”

He looks up at her, his eyes blank with surprise.

She bites her lip, looking down at her jeans and sweater. “Is it okay if I just go to my room to change into something for sleep?” she asks. “I’ll only be five minutes.”

He gives her a baleful look, clearly unhappy with this request.

“No,” she agrees. “No. Okay. I won’t. Do you have something I could just … borrow, maybe?”

He swallows, then walks to his suitcase, digging through it haphazardly. He fishes out a sweatshirt and some sweatpants and hands them to her.

“I’ll … just use the bathroom,” she says awkwardly, pointing to the door.

“Leave it open a crack,” he says, rough-edged. She’s shocked at how needy he is, how desperate to keep her near.

When she emerges from the bathroom, his clothing clownishly big on her, he’s standing right outside the bathroom door, like he’s been keeping guard.

“You should sleep,” he offers, standing absurdly close to her. His mouth is a line, his jaw clenched. No jokes, no whimsical stories. He’s absolutely taut with fear. “I’ll just sit next to you on the bed.”

“No,” she says. “You’ll feel better if we talk a little.” She glances at him. “Don’t you think?”

He says nothing, nodding tightly.

They climb onto the bed, which is narrow for both of them together. It’s drafty in the inn’s old rooms, and Scully decides to tuck herself under his quilt. When he doesn’t join her right away, she lifts the edge up in invitation. He raises his eyebrows hesitantly and then slips his legs underneath, too. She tries not to think about the implications of any of this too much, about what she can feel of the musculature of his long leg warm and flush up and against her own.

There are two pillows on the bed, so they’re each able to claim one to prop one up behind them. Scully leans into her pillow and tries to relax.

“You’re all right?” she says, looking him over. He’s so close. The rough stubble on his cheek: she imagines what it would feel like under her fingers, if she gently, reassuringly touched his face.

“Yeah,” he replies. He’s staring straight up at the ceiling.

She forces herself to take three breaths. Then, she decides, she’s going to ask. Because she needs to know. It has to be better than just wondering.

“Mulder,” she starts, “you’re worried about the ghost targeting you because … because there’s someone significant in your life, isn’t there?”

Mulder doesn’t shift his gaze from the ceiling, but a muscle in his jaw pulses.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me who she is,” she adds quickly. “I understand. We don’t always talk about things like that. I just … I just wanted you to know I’m your friend, and you could share that. If you wanted.”

Slowly, silently, he nods and closes his eyes. For a tense moment she thinks he might cry.

Then, to her shock, he starts shaking in silent laughter.

“I’m sorry,” she says by reflex, although she’s not really sure of the reason for this dark laughter or why it might require an apology. “I didn’t mean to cross a line.”

Abruptly he swivels his head to look at her, his expression suddenly serious. She’s awed by how lovely his solemn face is, what a breathtakingly beautiful man her partner is.

“It’s not your fault, Scully,” he replies. He’s speaking so close, so gently, that she can feel the light touch of his breath across her cheek, and there is something broken in the sing-song of his words. They make her want to cry. “You’re right. There’s been someone. But it’s something … one-sided. No future. So there’s really no point in talking about it. And it does have me worried, yeah.”

Taken aback by his close proximity, caught in the stony green of his eyes, she feels all rational language evaporate from her lips. She’s trying to respond sensibly, but all she can do is think about this “someone” Mulder apparently has on his mind.

“Oh,” she says inanely.

“But you don’t need to worry about it,” he adds, his gaze shifting uncomfortably across the room. “Nothing to be done.”

She clears her throat. “Unrequited love,” she says, “is notoriously painful.” She’s feeling a quivering in her chest now. “You’re certain that your feelings aren’t reciprocated?”

“I’m certain.” His face gives nothing away. “Besides, according to the working theory, there’s proof they aren’t. I mean, I’m seeing the Ms. Lonelyhearts ghost, aren’t I? When the Kromkowskis’ feelings were reciprocated, they stopped seeing her.”

Scully bites her lip and nods. Every instinct tells her to comfort him, to pat his hand, to lay her head against his shoulder in sympathy, but she sees now how this potentially casts her in such a pathetic light. Pining for a man who is evidently grieving someone else’s love.

“I know you don’t believe in this,” Mulder says simply. “Thank you for hanging out anyway.”

Tell him. Tell him you saw Hero.

“It’s no problem, Mulder.”

“Scully.” He sinks back into the pillow, rotating his face to see her better. “Why don’t you believe in ghosts?”

“Is that a sincere question?” she says. “I’m Dana Scully, your partner, the one committed to a scientific and rational worldview.”

“No,” he says, the word almost so soft she can’t hear it. “You’re not. Not entirely.”

“Excuse me?”

His lips curl into a tiny smile. “You believe in … a man rising from the dead after three days, right? Water turned to wine. Angelic beings. Blood pouring from the hands and feet of saints.”

She meets his gaze until it becomes uncomfortably intense. “Yes,” she says. “I suppose that’s true. I don’t tend to see those things as being in the same category of experience.”

“If you can believe in the concept of a soul that exists separate from our physical body,” Mulder continues, “then why can’t you believe in ghosts, in apparitions? It seems the same to me.”

She shifts in the bed, thinking, trying to keep her limbs from touching his. When she stops moving, she speaks directly to the opposite wall.

“The night my father died,” Scully says, “I thought I saw him. I was asleep on the couch, and I woke up, and … he was there in the chair across from me. Saying something I couldn’t make out. Then my mom called on the phone to tell me he’d died, and when I looked again, he was gone.”

Mulder has been hanging on her every word, his mouth slightly open. “You never mentioned that.”

“No,” she agrees.

“So you do think it’s possible…”

“No,” she continues. “I don’t. He wasn’t a ghost. At least not how you mean.”

“How I mean?” Mulder repeats, squirming. “I don’t understand.”

Scully tries to string together the right words. “I suppose I think a ghost is a … symbol. A manifestation of grief, of loss, of memory. We believe in ghosts because we want to—or we need to. We want there to be something past death—something easier to understand than eternal life in a Christian sense.”

Mulder buries the heels of his hands in his eyes in consternation. “But when you woke up on your couch, you didn’t know that you’d lost your dad. How could you have been manifesting his image from grief, loss, memory?”

“I … didn’t,” Scully says. “I had a dream. Simple as that. And later, after finding out he’d died, my subconscious crafted and shaped the dream into a traditional ghost story. You can see why. It provided me with a final moment with my dad.” She pauses. “And a secret message from beyond the veil.”

She still can envision the way he looked: her father, sitting straight-backed in that chair, speaking some unknown truth. She has long truly believed what she is telling Mulder. She doesn’t think that experience was real, that she really saw her father’s ghost. It still felt so authentically like it had been her Daddy.

“But what I saw in the hall?” He points emphatically to the door. “That woman was not something my subconscious crafted.”

“We’re surrounded by historical furniture.” Scully gestures around the room. “In a historic inn, surrounded by history and ghost lore. A place thick with memory. Maybe your subconscious is providing you with a personified version of memory, a person who stands in for the past.”

“Scully.” In angry disbelief, he scrambles up in bed, shifting to face her, inadvertently tugging the quilt off of her in the process. “That’s … nuts. That’s ludicrous. That’s not what this is.”

“I’m just suggesting possible—”

“Come on. The reality of this ghost is not in question,” he insists forcefully, and she can see how worked up he is. “This is happening. It’s not me being overtired, or my subconscious making up some memory lady. This is a dangerous-ass ghost who has killed people. Please believe me this time.”

There’s a pause.

“Yes,” she admits quietly. “All right. I know.”

She ignores his shocked facial expression and reaches to pull the quilt back over her again, tucking it around her hip.

“You … know?”

This would be the perfect time to tell him. She should roll over and look him in the eyes and say, I know because I saw her, too. I know she isn’t a psychological delusion. I just want her to be.

Instead, she turns to him and stares at his bottom lip, consumed by an irresponsible impulse to lean over and nip at it, to distract them both from this conversation.

“Scully?” he croaks. “You said … you know?”

She is saved from having to answer when Mulder’s head rotates towards the end of the bed, his expression one of complete terror.

***

There, at the foot of the bed, stands Hero, grim and stern.

“Oh shit,” Mulder whispers, gulping. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Scully’s eyes follow the path of his to the end of the bed, too, and then lock back on to his face.

“My love,” Hero demands. She sure doesn’t sound very loving, Mulder thinks. “You said you would come, but oh, how you lie, you lie.”

He can hear it again, that rising and falling rushing sound. Definitely an ocean tide. He makes himself take deep, full breaths. Breathe. Don’t panic. Stay above water.

In a slow, ominous gesture, Hero extends her arm to point a thin translucent finger. To Mulder’s horror, she doesn’t point to him as he expects, but towards Scully. He feels himself grow sick with worry.

“You lie, you lie.” Hero’s voice rises. “Where are you, my love? Where are you, beautiful liar? You said you’d always find me in the darkness, my love, my love.”

“No,” Mulder manages, extending his hands. “No, stop.”

The way she looks at Scully, as though she is speaking to Scully, terrifies him. It’s one thing to threaten him; the notion of Scully possibly paying for his feelings with her life is unbearable. He springs into action.

He scrambles out of the bed, headed to the brass lantern on the wall, fumbling to find the switch.

It flicks on, creating a circle of warm caramel-colored light. As soon as she sees the light engulfing her transparent body, Hero’s mouth abruptly opens, her hand stretching out towards its reflection on the floorboards. In horror she lifts her skirt and rushes towards the brass lantern, pausing an instant before passing easily through the wall.

“Mulder.” Scully’s voice is practically a whisper from the bed.

“Did you see?” he says, running to the foot of the bed, looking stupidly around on the floor. “Hero—she was here, Scully. Just now. Did you see?”

“I …” Scully’s mouth closes and opens. She shakes her head wordlessly.

“The brass lantern.” Mulder runs back to examine the light in distraction. “Mrs. Davenport said they were good luck. Hero left when I turned it on.” He runs his fingers over the brass exterior, then touches the wall where Hero disappeared. He sighs. “I doubt that trick will work forever.”

Scully seems to be at a loss, like she can’t think of how to sensibly respond to what he’s saying. Again he worries she’s putting two and two together about his unrequited feelings and who they might be putting in danger. But judging from their conversation in bed a few minutes ago, that’s not even a concern. She doesn’t seem to have any idea. She hasn’t even thought about it enough to seriously consider the possibility, he thinks.

“Are you okay?” he asks her.

“I’m … fine,” Scully says, still blinking rapidly. “Are you all right?”

“Well … no,” Mulder says, as it all starts to hit him again. “I think I’m going to die, actually.”

Scully climbs out of bed in concern.

“But you feel all right now?”

“Oh sure. Peachy,” he mutters. He sits on the bed.

She folds her arms over her chest and watches him. “You’ll never be able to sleep tonight.”

“Probably not, no,” he sighs.

“Hmm.”

She crosses the room to look out the window. He flops backwards hopelessly on the bed.

“Mulder,” she says, after a beat. “I don’t suppose you have any interest in going outside for a walk.”

“Outside?” He frowns at the ceiling, certain he misheard. “Like outside outside?”

“Yes.”

“Like leave this warm room to go out into the frigid snow? In potentially dangerous subzero temperatures? At night?”

“Yes.”

He gnaws on his lip, sitting up.

“Sure,” he says.

***

Snowflakes are lightly falling as they leave the building, pulling the front door firmly closed behind them. Mulder hopes they haven’t disturbed Duncan and Banoy.

They trudge down the walkway to the small road in front of the inn, the same road they came in on. It’s lit with street lamps and covered with a smooth, unblemished layer of freshly fallen snow.

It’s bitter cold. They both know it’s too cold to be out for long. But the frozen world outside is pristine and pure, and Mulder is really grateful Scully suggested it.

If you’ve only got a few hours or minutes left, might as well be here, where the cold reminds you you’re alive. Doesn’t cold numb all pain?

Tiny snowflakes dot Scully’s trenchcoat. Mulder watches in wonder as she lifts her hands, her fingers shiny with her black leather gloves, and tries to catch the flakes on her palm.

She notices him watching. “What?” she says. “Is something wrong?”

“You’re going to think this sounds weird,” he says, “but I had a dream about this. You, just like this, in the night. In the snow, catching snowflakes in your hands.”

“You’re right, Mulder,” she responds with a subdued smile. “I do think that sounds weird.”

“It was a little different in the dream,” he admits.

“I probably don’t want to know.” Her fingers outstretch again, reaching towards the moon.

You probably don’t, he thinks. That’s my whole issue.

Mulder follows the direction of her outstretched fingers upwards and locates Orion’s belt, visible in the cold clear sky. A line of burning balls of gas in space that from the ground looks like snowflakes etched into the black of the night sky. He wonders who all is out there living in that sea of snowy stars. He wishes he could have found out.

“Scully,” he begins, trying to think about how to say this in some way that isn’t maudlin, “I want you to know that had things been different, I would have helped you find justice for your sister. I would’ve helped you find out who took you. I wanted to do those things. I wasn’t going to give up.”

She swings around to look at him, appalled. “You have to stop talking like this,” she scolds. “Like you’re already dead. Like you’re on your way to the electric chair. This isn’t like you, Mulder.”

He smiles sadly. “I don’t see how to stop it.”

“We could keep walking,” Scully points out. “We could keep going into town and knock on someone’s door and stay there tonight.”

“I don’t think she’ll let us.” He turns to look back at the Inn. “Hero.”

“We could try,” Scully insists. “We could—”

“No,” he says. He reaches out and takes her leather-gloved hand. “Just walk with me for company, okay?”

She stares down at their clasped hands in shock. “Okay,” she says tremulously. “But for the record, I’m not accepting your impending death.” They begin to walk again.

“It’s a humiliating way to die,” he says with a bitter chuckle. “Death by extreme loneliness. So it helps, you know—not feeling alone.”

“You’re not dying,” she snaps. “And you’re not alone.”

He smiles at her, and he sees that she has some tears in her eyes. “Thanks,” he says, afraid to say much else.

It’s so perfect, holding her small hand in his, moving together in the eerie lamplight, surrounded by long shadows and falling snow, that he knows it can’t possibly last. It’s too much like a dream—a dream he has had too many times.

So he isn’t even surprised to see the white figure of a woman standing before them, almost camouflaged by the snow. It feels like the time. It feels like the moment.

“No,” Scully mutters fiercely. “No. Leave us alone.”

When he turns to look at her, he sees that she’s speaking directly, indisputably to Hero—that she doesn’t even seem shocked to see her. That actually does surprise him.

***

The snowflakes don’t affect Hero; they simply pass right through the folds of her dress and the tendrils of her hair. Tears stream and glitter like pale icicles down her face. “Lost,” she whispers. “My poor lost Leander.”

“Go away,” Scully says, feeling anger rising.

“You can see her?” Mulder asks urgently, gripping her hand. “For how long?”

“Leave us alone,” Scully hisses, ignoring Mulder’s questions.

“Lost,” Hero moans. “Lost, lost.” She takes a step towards them, and Scully feels herself tense, her body primed to take defensive positions. But she hasn’t been trained to defend herself against ghosts.

“Hero,” Mulder says in a new tone, and Scully recognizes his calm negotiator voice. He keeps Scully’s hand in his, but he moves slightly sideways, and Scully realizes with a little pang that he’s attempting to place his body between the ghost and her. “Sophronia. Miss Younge. I don’t think we’ve really had a chance to talk yet.”

“There’s no time for that, Leander,” Hero keens. “Lost, lost.”

“I don’t think it’s too late,” he says, trying to sound reasonable and upbeat, the way you do when someone has hostages. “We have a lot to discuss. Just think about—”

He begins to cough, letting go of Scully’s hand to cover his mouth.

Scully feels a bolt of fear. “Are you okay, Mulder?”

“They forgot to light your way,” mourns Hero, beginning to cry. “How could they? Oh Leander, my love, my love.”

“I’m fine,” he says, stopping and trying to smile. “Just something in my—”

Mulder dissolves into coughs again, more forcefully this time, and Scully can see him actively trying to clear whatever is obstructing his airway. He bends at the waist, putting his hands on his knees, his whole body twitching as he focuses on his cough.

Scully touches his shoulder, stroking it lightly, and leans to speak in his ear. “Mulder, how can I help you?”

He continues to cough and doesn’t answer, so she leans down to look directly into his face.

His eyes, bright and scared, peer up momentarily to meet hers. His coughing immediately intensifies.

“Mulder,” Scully whispers despondently.

Hero weeps. “He’s lost, he’s lost, can’t you see? He searches, but he can’t find the beacon. Lost in the darkness. Oh Leander. Oh my love.”

Mulder is somehow managing to take fast gulps of breath in between coughs, but Scully knows, knows this won’t last.

She holds his shoulder possessively and makes furious eye contact with Hero. “This has to stop.” She barely recognizes her own unsteady voice.

“There’s no beacon,” Hero moans, shaking her head in sorrow. “What can be done? He tries, but he’s lost. My Leander.”

“He’s not your Leander,” Scully orders, her voice shrill. He’s my Mulder.

How ridiculous, Scully thinks. I’m a doctor. I can stop this, can’t I?

She leans down and examines his face, his precious face, running her fingers all over it. His eyes bulge and stare at her wildly, seeming to ask her something. Of course he’s begging for her to help him. Why can’t she think of how to help him?

He abruptly wrenches free from her touch to lean over and cough up some water into the snow.

Water from absolutely nowhere. How does she treat a patient who is drowning in nonexistent water? What does she do?

Oh god, she could lose him right here.

She’s beginning to feel frantic. She grips his coat pleadingly. “Mulder,” she demands, her voice breaking, “don’t… don’t think about her, stop thinking about her.”

At first she thinks she means Hero, but then, as he shakes his head helplessly, she realizes she means something more irrational.

“This woman you’re longing for,” Scully begs. “Maybe if you just don’t long for her… please, stop.”

Mulder responds with another round of powerful, barking coughs. He falls to his knees in the snow, gasping for air, spitting out water.

“Can’t… stop,” he gasps.

“Mulder,” Scully says, kneeling next to him, her eyes welling with tears, her fists full of his coat. “She can’t be worth it, if it’s one-sided. Let her go, please. Please, try, for me. Maybe it will help.”

Mulder wheezes, making noises that frighten her. She feels herself burst into sobs, and she buries her face in his shoulder. He’s managing to say a few words. “Scully … terrible … investigative work.”

“What?” Scully cries, leaning up. “What are you talking about?” Her sobbing is in eerie harmony with Hero’s ghastly tears.

“One woman … in my life,” he says. His lips, turning blue, curl into a little smile between coughing. “How could you not know—” He’s overtaken by coughing again, and he bends over.

Scully slowly absorbs this, watching him coughing in shock. “No, no, no,” she repeats in a small panicked voice. “That can’t be it. Not possible.”

He lifts his head. There is a rueful look in his eyes. “I’m sorry.” He bends over again, periodically pausing the coughs wracking his body to try to suck in air.

Scully’s eyes lift and lock directly on Hero. “Stop,” Scully demands. She stands up. “Stop doing this to him. You know it doesn’t make sense. You know it isn’t right.”

“My Leander,” Hero says to her, shaking her head. “My poor Leander, why can’t you find the beacon either?”

At that, Scully feels something thickening in the back of her throat.

Mulder hears the explosive bark of her first cough and manages to look up at her with utter fear, making the most horrible choking sounds as he does.

“No,” Scully calls out, kneeling back down next to him. “Mulder, it doesn’t make sense.” Swallowing back her own cough, she cups his cheeks in her gloved hands. “It’s not logical.”

“Not … logical?” He’s struggling for survival between every word, but his eyes are soft, tender, watching hers.

And she thinks: oh god, could it be true? Could I have been so wrong?

She turns to cough again, but she comes back to maintain her grip on his face.

“It isn’t supposed to work like that,” she says hoarsely. She remembers Pam and Gary, what they said, how it stopped for them. She pushes back her fear and tries to imagine what her brave sister would do. “It’s not supposed to happen if it’s shared,” she whispers to him. “If it’s returned.”

“If … what’s—” He can’t finish, wrenching his face out of her hands to lean over. He’s trying to cough, but he can’t seem to do it anymore. His mouth is open, but the cough seems to be broken.

“Mulder,” she breathes. “Oh no. Oh no no no.” She pulls him up into her lap, into her arms, where his abdomen continues to seize, desperate for oxygen.

He stares up at her, terrified. Now his mouth is opening and closing like a fish, in horrific silence.

“I didn’t think you could feel like that about me,” she says, weeping, the tears stinging ice on her cheeks. “I could have told you—if you were longing, Mulder, you weren’t alone.” She cups his cheeks again. “Please breathe free. Please.”

In a burst of hopelessness she kisses his face all over: his cheeks, the tip of his nose, his forehead, his lips. “You weren’t alone,” she whispers.

When she pulls back, his eyes have widened. He tilts his head away from her, takes a giant breath, and begins forcefully coughing again.

“Mulder,” she says, her tears still coming. “That’s good—that’s so much better. Good.”

He pulls himself up on his knees to cough further, expelling water onto the snow. Now he is able to take some deep breaths in between coughs.

“That’s it,” she encourages, “you’re doing it.”

“No,” he croaks, facing down towards the snow. “I’m doing nothing. All you.”

He’s breathing now, unsteady, but in and out, and she wants to scream with joy.

“Hero?” he manages.

She becomes aware that indeed, the sound of ghostly sobbing has stopped. Turning her head to peer in the snow all around them, she sees no sign of Hero anywhere. There is only the complete quiet and stillness of untrammeled snow.

“Gone,” she murmurs in amazement.

He nods, his expression unsurprised. His breath is still coming heavy and uneven.

“Let’s get you inside,” she begs. “Let me help you. You need to get warm and recover. Take my arm—”

“You’re okay, Scully?”

He says it so intensely— with such a look on his face— that even in the cold she can feel blood rushing to her cheeks. “Yes, yes. Of course.”

Still, she can feel the cold catching up with her, seeping into the holes left behind by the surge of adrenaline. The remains of tears on her face and on her scarf are starting to freeze. She is beginning to seriously shiver, even in her heavy trench coat. As she helps him to his feet, Mulder notices.

“You’re cold,” he croaks out.

“A reaction to the stress,” Scully explains away, flustered. “I’ll be fine once we’re inside.”

He reaches his arm around her, drawing her warm and close to him. “I can help,” he rasps. He places his chin on top of her head a moment, and she feels him sigh deeply. “Still alive.”

She’s speechless as they start to walk back up towards the Inn.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

November 20, 2024

Heather Cox Richardson

Nov 20, 2024

Remember how American voters so hated Project 2025, the playbook for a second Trump term written by the Heritage Foundation and other right-wing institutions, that Trump said he had nothing to do with it, and then one of its key architects, Russell Vought, told undercover filmmakers that Trump was only running away from the project as political cover? 

It appears Vought was right and the story that Trump had nothing to do with Project 2025 was, indeed, just political cover. Ed O’Keefe and Major Garrett of CBS News reported today that two sources close to the Trump transition team have told them that they expect Trump to name Vought to lead the Office of Management and Budget (OMB). 

Vought wrote the section of Project 2025 that covers the presidency, calling for “aggressive use of the vast powers of the executive branch” to “bend or break the bureaucracy to the presidential will” and identifying the OMB as the means of enforcing the president’s agenda. Vought was Trump’s OMB director during the end of his first term and tried to remove the civil service protections that have been in place since 1883 to protect federal workers from being fired for political reasons. That plan, known as Schedule F, would have affected about 88% of the federal workforce. 

One of the first things Biden did when he took office was to rescind Trump’s executive order making that shift.

Like that earlier attempt, Project 2025 leans heavily on the idea that “personnel is policy,” and that idea illuminates the choices the Trump team is making. Trump has refused to sign the official documents required by the 2022 Presidential Transition Act. Those documents mandate ethics commitments and require the incoming president to disclose private donations. They also limit those donations. Without the paperwork, Trump appointees cannot start the process of getting security clearances through the Federal Bureau of Investigation; the team says it is planning to do its own vetting of its candidates instead.  

Claiming they have a mandate, Trump’s people have said they are launching “a hostile takeover” of the American government “on behalf of the American people.” But as voting numbers continue to come in, Trump’s majority has fallen below 50% of voters, meaning that more voters chose someone else than chose Trump on November 5. These results are far from being in “mandate” territory.

The U.S. Constitution charges Congress with writing the laws under which the American people live, and the president with taking “care that the laws be faithfully executed.” Since 1933, Congress has created an extensive system of agencies that regulate business and provide a basic social safety net. Congress will say, for example, that the U.S. needs an agency to protect the environment (like the Environmental Protection Agency, established under Republican president Richard M. Nixon), appropriate money for it, oversee its leadership, and then trust those leaders to hire the personnel necessary to carry out its mission. 

Regulations and social welfare programs and the agencies that provide them are broadly popular—think how hard it has been for members to get rid of Social Security, for example—so Congress trims at the edges rather than abolishing them. As the U.S. budget has grown, they often bear the brunt of accusations that the government spends too much, although what has really caused the budget to operate deeply in the red is the tax cuts for the wealthy put into place by Presidents George W. Bush and Donald Trump.  

Right-wing leaders who want to continue cutting regulations and taxes are newly empowered by Trump’s victory in the 2024 election, and they are turning to a quirk of the government to enable them to work around Congress. 

Since the first administration of President George Washington, agencies created by Congress have lived in the Executive Branch. If, as Vought and others argue, the president is the absolute authority in that branch, Trump can do whatever he wants with those agencies and the civil servants—the bureaucrats—who run them.  

In an op-ed in the Wall Street Journal today, billionaires Elon Musk and Vivek Ramaswamy laid out their plans for cutting the U.S. government. Neither of them has ever held elected office, but they see that as an advantage, not a downside: “We are entrepreneurs, not politicians,” they write. “We will serve as outside volunteers, not federal officials or employees.” Trump has named them to the “Department of Government Efficiency,” or DOGE. Despite the “department” name, DOGE is not an official government agency—which would require ethics disclosures—but rather an advisory panel. 

Their op-ed begins by redefining congressional authority to create agencies to suggest that agencies are illegitimate. “Most government enforcement decisions and discretionary expenditures aren’t made by the democratically elected president or even his political appointees,” they write, “but by millions of unelected, unappointed civil servants within government agencies who view themselves as immune from firing thanks to civil-service protections.” This, they say, “imposes massive direct and indirect costs on taxpayers.” 

“Thankfully,” they continue, “we have a historic opportunity to solve the problem. On Nov. 5, voters decisively elected Donald Trump with a mandate for sweeping change, and they deserve to get it.”

While “politicians” have “abetted” an “entrenched and ever-growing bureaucracy,” they write, they will work with the OMB to identify regulations that, they claim, Trump can issue an executive order to stop enforcing. “This would liberate individuals and businesses from illicit regulations never passed by Congress and stimulate the U.S. economy,” they write. Should Trump want to cut things that Congress wants to fund, they claim that Trump will simply refuse to spend those appropriations, challenging the 1974 Impoundment Control Act that declared such withholding illegal. 

Musk and Ramaswamy reiterated their support for cutting programs that are not currently authorized, although budget experts note that such a lapse is a tool to permit adjustments to programs Congress has, in fact, authorized and have also pointed out that one of the top items on that list is health care for veterans. Cuts to all these programs will naturally mean extensive cuts to the federal workforce. 

“With a decisive electoral mandate and a 6–3 conservative majority on the Supreme Court,” they write, “DOGE has a historic opportunity for structural reductions in the federal government. We are prepared for the onslaught from entrenched interests in Washington. We expect to prevail. Now is the moment for decisive action.” 

They conclude by asserting that “[t]here is no better birthday gift to our nation on its 250th anniversary than to deliver a federal government that would make our Founders proud,” which is one heck of a conclusion to a blueprint for taking the power of American lawmaking from the Congress, where the Framers put it, and delivering it into the hands of an extraordinarily powerful president acting on the advice of two unelected billionaires, one of whom wasn’t born in the United States.  

In the vein of getting rid of regulations, today the chief executive of Delta Air Lines said he expected the Trump administration would be a “breath of fresh air” after the Biden administration’s consumer-protection laws that he called government “overreach.” 

Meanwhile, in Washington, the Senate has been confirming President Joe Biden’s judicial nominees, with the absence of Republican senators making the confirmations easier.

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[govtshutdown]

This should load eventually, the staffer must've been on break

[anonymouspumpking]

Completing your dream

Hello guys, this is a long Trafalgar Law fic, I hope you liked it. Pls bear with me because it is the first fanfic I have written and english is not my first language, enjoy it. :)

Summary: You are a girl looking to fulfill her dream, which is to become the best doctor the world has ever seen, but to achieve this she has become an apprentice to one of the most renowned pirates of the worst generation.

Part one:

My dream is to become a great surgeon and doctor. I find medicine to be something magical; Being able to discover the cause of an illness with the symptoms given by the patient, formulating a medicine that acts effectively and safely to treat the disease, performing procedures on a living being to heal it… is simply incredible. Since I was convinced that I wanted to be a surgeon, I decided to travel the world, and learn from the best doctors I could find. That's howI found out about him…

Six months ago:

I was an intern in a hospital at Alabasta. I had been studying under Dr. Drake tuition for about a year and was very happy with the progress he had helped me achieve. I was doing a basic vendage on one of the patients that was in the hospital, when I noticed the doctor approach me.

The doctor looked at the bandage I had made, thought for a minute and then spoke: “I congratulated you very much on all the progress you have made y/n, I have to admit that you have been from great help since you arrived at the hospital” the doctor said with a proud air. “When you are done with the patient, I would like you to report to my office please.”

After checking that everything was appropriate with the patient, I putted away the medical equipment I used and headed towards the doctor's office.

“Did you need me, doctor?” I asked him, sticking my head out the door.

“Ah y/n, yes, I wanted to talk to you. Please take a seat,” he said, pointing to the chair in front of his desk with his hand.

"Is everything alright?"

“Yes y/n, in fact, I wanted to talk to you about your dream. I know you want to become a successful health care worker and gain as much knowledge as possible, but I'm afraid I can't teach you any more than you already know.” The doctor looked at me with a thoughtful air and continued… “You see, I don't know how legal it is for me to suggest this to you, but I have heard about a pirate known for his medical skills and knowledge.”

“Doctor, I don't really understand what you are suggesting to me” I responded with a confused face.

"The pirate, also known as the surgeon of death, is a person with extensive knowledge in medicine and surgery. I suggest that, if you don't mind becoming a pirate, look for him and ask him to be your tutor, at least for a while. It is said that he has a devil fruit under his power that allows him to manipulate the body in unimaginable ways, I think it would be very fruitful for him to learn from it.”

I looked at the doctor thoughtfully. Learning from this pirate would definitely help me become a better doctor, but how much will it be worth risking my life for my dream? After a few minutes in silence, I dared to speak.

“And do you know where I could find it?”

The doctor smiled triumphantly. “I decided to tell you this information because it was seen not long ago on Drum Island. By now it should be one or two islands ahead of ours.”

“I see, so if I want to reach him soon I must leave in a short time, right?” The doctor nodded his head and added: “I hope you manage to fulfill your dream y/n, you are a very determined and dedicated young woman. I am sure that, if you work hard, you will become one of the best doctors in the world.”

I gave the doctor an honest smile as I shook his hand in gratitude. “Thank you very much for your time and dedication doctor, I learned a lot under your tutelage.”

Currently:

I know I've been looking for the surgeon of death for a while, but unfortunately, I lost track of him a few months ago. Fortunately I was able to gather more information about him and his crew and was finally able to give this island “Rusokaina”. I heard that the heart pirate crew was going to stay there for a few days to gather some resources and medicinal plants. I had been walking around the island for a few hours when I heard voices in the distance.

“We leave in 5 minutes, make sure you don't leave anything.”

"Yes captain!".

“I'll be in my study in case you need anything, Bepo, take care of the medicinal plants we found! “Sachi and Penguin, don’t forget to carry the fruits and food we got!”

I approached silently so I could get a good look at the situation. There were people carrying many boxes and things onto a yellow boat (if it could be considered one) with a Jolly Roger with a smile. When I was going to get close,r I noticed a presence behind me, and when I turned my sight I saw… A polar bear?

“What are you doing and who are you?” The polar bear asked curiously.

“! AHHHHHH, THE POLAR BEAR TALKS!” I screamed at the top of my lungs as I felt my heart skip a beat.

The polar bear screamed in fear when I started screaming. "Captain! Captain! There is a strange girl spying on us, screaming!”

I hadn't finished recovering from the shock when I heard “Room”, and “Shambles”. At that moment a tall man with black hair appeared in front of me and threatened me with his katana.

“Who are you, what are you doing here and why are you spying on us?” the man asked defiantly without moving the katana from my sight.

I stood up carefully and my instinct was to raise my hands to show that I had no weapons with me, I took a deep breath and spoke. “I'm y/n, I'm looking for the captain of the heart pirates, which I assume is you…” I said scared.

“That depends, who are you and why are you looking for him?” The man did not take his eyes off me at any time and he did not lower his guard either.

“I want to talk to your captain, I want to make a deal and negotiate with him.” I responded as calmly as I could.

“Speak,” the man said coldly.

"I'm just a simple medical student, I heard that you are one of the best doctors in the world and I would like you to be my tutor for a while."

The pirate looked at me coldly. “I'm not anyone's babysitter, and being a pirate is not child's play, it's dangerous. Go back to your house brat. “If everything I mentioned before was not enough, what do I gain from that negotiation? Besides having to take care of a girl.”

I started to turn red from anger, who does this person think he is? I took a breath to calm my spirits and finally spoke.

“I know that being a pirate is not child's play, I have had time to think about it carefully. “I have been following your trail for approximately six months to ask you to teach me more about medicine.” “And to answer your question about what would win, well, I will be part of your crew this entire time, there will be no exceptions and I will also do heavy work. If you fight, then you won't have to worry about me, as I know how to fight, and you won't have to “be my babysitter,” as you say.”

The man saw me thoughtfully and finally lowered his katana. “You will be on probation for a month, if you prove to be a nuisance I will throw you on the next island we see.”

“Deal,” I said cheerfully as I shook the pirate's hand.

The pirate looked at me surprised and shook my hand to finally introduce himself. “Trafalgar D. Law, Captain and doctor of the heart pirates.” “Y/n, nice to meet you.”

“Bepo!” Law shouted, “Make sure you introduce her to the entire crew and make sure she knows the Polar Tang properly,” he said as he walked away towards the ship.

“Yes, captain,” the polar bear responded smilingly. “Nice to meet you Y/n, I'm Bepo, the navigator from the heart pirates,” he told me, smiling from ear to ear.

“Ehh… hello, sorry for the question and for scaring me earlier, but what are you?

“I'm a mink,” he said proudly.

“Bepo, stop talking and get on the boat,” Law shouted from the other side of the boat.

Bepo looked at me and asked me to follow him. After a few minutes, the ship finally set sail. “Sorry for the captain's attitude,” the mink said sadly, “But despite seeming like a cold and unfeeling man, the captain is really kind. Come, I'll introduce you to everyone."

I followed Bepo towards what seemed to be a dining room where all the crew were. “Hello everyone, this is our new crew member, her name is y/n,” Bepo introduced me. “Hello, nice to meet you,” I said with my best smile, trying not to die of embarrassment.

“Hello, I am Saichi”, “I am Penguin”, “Jean Bart”, “My name is Ikkaku, a pleasure”, “I am Uni”, “Clion” “I am Hakugan”.

I took a seat next to Ikkaku and the others began to ask me questions. “How old are you?”, “Why did you join the crew?”…

“I'm 21 years old and I joined because…” I was saying before someone interrupted me.

“If you're done wasting your time, I need you in my study y/n,” Law said seriously standing at the door that led to the dining room.

“He's already angry,” Sachi said mockingly. “It's the captain being the captain, what can we do,” Penguin replied, laughing.

“You two shut up and get to work!” Law yelled from the door.

I got up, said goodbye to everyone and followed the furious Law towards his study. Once inside, Law sat at his desk, which was filled with papers and maps.

“You can sit here,” he pointed to a chair in front of the desk. I nodded and sat calmly in front of him. “I want to know more about my new crew member, so I'll ask you some questions.” “I also want to know how much medical knowledge you have.”

I nodded and gave him a smile. "Alright"

"How old are you?"

"twenty-one"

"Why are you here?"

“Because I want to learn everything I can about medicine from you,” I responded with a shy smile.

"Where you come from?"

“From the south blue”

After two hours of interrogation and a brief medical exam, Law finally let me rest.

“Well y/n, I think that's it,” a triumphant smile formed, “I don't notice anything suspicious about you and you have a lot of prior medical knowledge. "I think you will be very useful to me in procedures and medical operations."

“Thank you Law,” I responded, smiling but tired.

“You seem tired, so I'll guide you to your room.”

I nodded and followed Law to what would be my new room.

"Rest for today, tomorrow I will explain to you your duties and tasks within the crew and the schedule in which you will be with me so that I can teach me more about the medical world," the captain said calmly.

“Thank you very much Law, and good night.”

“Good night y/n”

I lay down and fainted on the bed. I was very tired, today had been a very long day and the next would be too. Before I knew it, I was already fast asleep.

[mirror-to-the-past]

So.... I bolted to the finish line of Dream Drop as I had nothing else to do today.

I am still collecting many thoughts, sentiments, attempts at analysis, etc, as I always do, but this game just had a lot to offer so I'm still weeding through the freshly tilled flowerbed that is my brain at the moment. Holy mother of run-on sentences (you're gonna see a lot of those).

First off, I wanna thank this game for doing so much for Sora and Riku's characters. The inverse development they had through the course of the plot was really interesting to follow, actually, and none of it's out of nowhere!

Since KH1, Sora's had the repression subplot and embracing the strength of others as his own. Here, he tried to do the same, but with everything that's happened to him since, all of which he doesn't even necessarily remember, and all of the emotions and memories he's been touched with and made more and more aware of- he's on shaky ground and the same ol' methods don't fit like they used to! Understandable! And Xehanort/13 Darkness gang just feeds into that. He expands on Sora's questioning of his identity, suggests the lack of validity of his emotions. Everything that could be used to describe Sora in a positive light in wake of what's happened to him, he finds a negative spin on it to really dig at Sora's core:

'You're confused about the direction your life has taken? Hm, wonder how much of you is even real. Your emotions? Memories? Could be fabrications. Or someone else's. Who knows...'

'Your heart is a refuge for lost souls, hoping to find a new future? Nah, screw that. Your heart's a prison. Your very existence binds people, Sora. And of course, you just love holding people back.'

'Aw, you follow where your heart leads? Cute. People's feelings have never led them astray before, huh? Why don't you just keep being a precious little idiot though, it works great for us.'

Xigbar particularly, was brutal as always. Loved the scenes with him and Sora in The World that Never Was. So well crafted. He towers over him, gets all up in Sora's business and you can see how uncomfortable Sora is. He pokes directly at Sora's two biggest insecurities:

Weakness; being incapable and helpless.

Not being wanted/needed, or dragging others down.

He goes on his whole spiel where he specifically highlights how Sora's pretty much leftovers. He acts like he's a good for nothing- "As if the Keyblade would choose a wimp like you." And childish for simply feeling the pain of others: "Oh... thank you, Sora's heart, for pushing him right into our clutches. Aren't hearts great? Steer us wrong every time." (Love that line) And Sora figures out that Nobodies have the capability of essentially learning to gain their own heart (CALLED IT, YES- BUT ALSO 😭 you poor guys. I think every party that could have benefitted either didn't care or didn't figure it out.), only to be further disparaged by Xemnas essentially being like 'Yeah, and then they got manipulated anyway, hah. Just like you.' Just two grown ass men bullying and gaslighting a teenage boy to heighten his insecurities. Because "possession" just seems to be a symbol for one losing themselves.

Xehanort as a character just gives those vibes of an individual who takes, takes, and breaks someone down until they don't feel like themselves anymore, becoming an extension of their manipulator. He preys upon vulnerability and lack of self assurance and it's so good, hah. So, that's the reading I find most appropriate for his thematic relevance, in relation to KH's continuous crisis of what makes up an identity. I mean, just look at how Xehanort describes the others they were considering as a dark vessel- Riku's "immune to the darkness," in other words, immune to obfuscation/has more solid connections. Roxas was considered as too driven, assured in his place in Sora's heart when he forged his own trial-by-fire path. Both people that came to peace with themselves and what they wanted through hardship, one way or another. Now, I'm not saying Sora hasn't felt hardship, but when your theme is "repression," he's up against amnesia, feelings of others encroaching on his own, and a lack of self evaluation. He has more of himself in others, at the moment, and that's leaving him vulnerable.

So, you can only imagine how Sora feels at the game's conclusion, denied a rank of Keyblade Master, those words lingering in his mind as one of the most recent things he's heard, near death(?) experience, and Sora had been filled in I'm sure on how Riku was endangering himself for Sora's sake. I'm sure he feels super great about all that.

(His "What do you want me to see?!" line after Roxas disappeared... haha... I'm well.)

Meanwhile, Riku. His whole arc was the polar opposite! By the end of this game, he was the most self assured than we've seen him the whole series! 🎉 Hooray! At least someone gets to be happy! :'D

But for real, *wow.* Personal quip, I doubt I need to go heavily into the queer connotations of Riku's journey to easier vulnerability and self acceptance, especially in this game, because I'm sure anyone who takes time to read this can probably see it, but wow. The way he learned to change his reflexes and actions throughout the course of the story in a number of small, meaningful ways was so sweet. It was cheesy, sure, but him openly laughing with the other teens in Traverse Town. Him admitting to the nature of his insecurities to help another, and then getting comforted by Esmeralda in return, who assured him it was understandable to have walls around his heart/keep parts of himself separate from the world when he was still unsure and figuring out his feelings (lines that drive me crazy, 2023). Him rolling his eyes at the "All for one and one for all," motto before reflecting on Sora's openness and inclusion, and deciding to give it a try, himself. So many little things where he learned to laugh and reminisce freely and it reminded me of the snippet of how he was when he was younger in BBS, which, speaking of- all those steps towards healthiness made it so that throughout the entire game, unlike CoM, where he fought in darkness with self hate, and Days, where he lost himself completely, he never battled with notable levels of internal darkness to try to win anything. He found his strength to protect the things that matter, like he always wanted, by being himself, unapologetically.

...I wish I played this game in middle school or something. Alas.

(Also Riku Dream Eater theory was a go, boys! Also like how there was no explanation other than *X. Heartless voice* "Yes adopted son of darkness, you were down so bad you changed species to protect Sora from bad dreams as soon as you subconsciously felt suspicious vibes." And that's all we're gonna fucking get, so deal with it *mic drop*. 😂 Was pleasantly surprised Sora's clothes were also plot relevant, and I feel better about disliking them now. They branded him, eugh.)

Speaking of being yourself, but perhaps being too many of yourselves, in this case, here's my obligatory "cries at the endgame" sentiments. This one was less hype than the others, but punched me directly in the heart instead. Oh. My. GOD? That whole sequence of Riku diving into Sora's heart (with all of his memories floating past? Lord I'd be so embarrassed if I was ever in such a situation- it's so personal, y'know?), entering its innermost reaches, answering the questions... holy guacamole guys I think I left a part of me on those sunset beaches, there. That whole scene was a KH1 reference with the questions (I answered in terms of how I best thought Riku would answer), Riku and Xion's sitting placements on the Paopu tree (also Riku saw Xion as Sora *fist pumps in sad success*), and I'm almost *certain,* especially since it was right before "What are you most afraid of" that my theory of Riku overhearing the Sora&Kairi dock convo in the first game was valid. I mean, just look at the dude's face after staring out at the sunset. M'boy Riku looked downright melancholy and I trust KH microexpressions with my life. (And speaking of microexpressions, Sora's smile looked suspiciously forced when congratulating Riku on becoming a Master, poor fella. He was trying so hard to be a good sport about everything with that messy situation.)

Dream Drop Distance did so much with how we're finally having all of the separate plot points converge and it was so surprisingly satisfying. Sora seems to be picking up more about Naminé, he's aware of Xion and is trying to figure out who she is. Roxas seems to be losing himself or doubting who he is outside Sora and aaaahh?? No?! My beautiful boy, don't do this, we'll get you out! I miss Axel, but we've got Lea, who keeps getting deadnamed (he got chosen as a Wielder by the universe for his troubles). I want to see more of Ienzo, he endears me, especially when he's told "shut up nerd" by Lea. Foreshadowing about Ventus (when he smiled upon feeling Sora's happiness with the Dream Eaters post-credits, something got me in my core about imagining Ventus experiencing all of Sora's joys and hurts while he grew up. I wonder if he'll feel any affection for Sora's friends as if they were his own, as well.). We finally got Ansem's data he implanted within Sora. Kairi is being brought back into the plot since KH2!! HYPE! *On my hands and knees*

Anyway this game was good. I probably have more to say because there was just so much but yeah.

Edit: Almost forgot the thing I groaned at my TV for earlier! ^_^

*ahem*

They composed a Heartsong and each of their hearts play a piece of a Duet version of Dearly Beloved, which is the Title Theme for the Entire Franchise, and Definitely Doesn't have any romantic connotations as a phrase or anything. Also they Definitely do not have a Two-Part-One-Whole Keyblade that isn't (so far, I'll catch up) explained, and is a phenomena not previously noted throughout the games, that has a Paopu Fruit hanging off the end.

Man, all this stuff tuckers an epic gamer out. Think I'll go replay Hades, Stardew Valley, Undertale/Deltarune as a break, considerably less gay games. (Har, har)

[phvle]

Ti as a base (1st) function (LII and LSI)

The individual views reality through the lens of logic, immediately recognizing the correctness and appropriateness of things and their proper place in reality and in his system of views and behavior. He freely makes logical assertions, often exaggerated, about new information and experience. He holds highest those rules to which exceptions do not exist, and is a habitual critic of people or things that don’t follow a set of rules, whether they are those accepted by the community, or his own, or even the other person’s. Although he is able to adopt others’ rules, his own are always the last word, and these are subject to continual refinement.

Often seen as “demanding”, due to high standards.

Ti as a creative (2nd) function (ILE and SLE)

The individual easily generates logical systems and formulations to explain a set of phenomena that he has experienced or studied. However, these logical systems or explanations are not viewed as permanent or all-encompassing, but can be improved upon or even discarded as new experience and information is added.

Ti as a role (3rd) function (ESI and EII)

The individual is able to talk about things from a dispassionate academic or theoretical point of view for brief periods of time, but seems overly bookish when doing so and tends to grows tense. When feeling obliged to justify logically a personal decision taken for reasons determined by Fi, the individual attempts to do so but grows quickly annoyed especially if the inconsistency in the logical argument is pointed out. He then either explains the ethical motivation or avoids the issue altogether.

Ti as a vulnerable (4th) function (SEE and IEE)

The individual has a tendency to either completely reject or completely embrace a source of theoretical knowledge, but does not like to reveal the source or his adherence to it.

He prefers to limit the number of theoretical categories he works with and tends to see new terminology, systems, and rules as being arbitrary and unnecessary until he at last discovers their necessity for himself through extensive personal experience.

He may be able to express his views clearly when given the time, but he is not prepared to deal with people who challenge his views and draw him into logical arguments and disputes. For this reason, he is reluctant to publicize new determinations and opinions until he is absolutely sure that they are right and that he can support them thoroughly to anyone who challenges them.

Ti as a suggestive (5th) function (ESE and EIE)

The individual has great admiration for people with well-developed systems of views. He especially likes clear and concise explanations of concepts, rather than a lot of background information about them that is not directly pertinent. He wants his actions to make sense, and thus needs external assurance that the conceptual understanding behind them is correct. If he cannot find a source of certainty, he may become flustered and unable to act rationally at all.

Ti as a mobilizing (6th) function (SEI and IEI)

The individual seeks clarity in his system of beliefs and understanding and enjoys entertaining new concepts and being included in philosophical discussions where new concepts and systems of thought are introduced. He is uncertain of the logical clarity backing his actions, and thus seeks external assistance in attaining a degree of reasonable competence in this realm. Structure is sought as more of a means to an end, a background guide to facilitate the growth of the individual’s main goal.

Ti as an ignoring (7th) function (LIE and LSE)

The individual understands easily, but is largely indifferent to, discussions that focus on the internal logic of ideas and systems. The individual perceives such logical systems as largely worthless to his goals and finds them completely uninteresting and unproductive.

Ti as a demonstrative (8th) function (ILI and SLI)

The individual often criticizes others’ views from a logical standpoint, picking apart statements and postulates and showing that they are logically flawed. However, he does not choose to do this excessively and does not expect that reality can be accurately expressed in a neat logical systematic anyway.

Source: Wikisocion

[aliensupersyn]

The Next Great Clash Since Gojo and Sukuna

This is an updated subsection from my longer analysis, but with added context and information. This post is meant to be a quick read.

Maki heavily resembles Sukuna in terms of characterization. Both are described as something beyond human, with Maki being called a monster and Sukuna called the same, as well as a calamity. Seeing as how their characters relate to each other so closely, it makes sense that Maki was the one Sukuna wanted to fight the most after Gojo. I have already gone into great detail about the ways Gege has tied their characters together since Hidden Inventory. In this post, I'll quickly go over this connection.

Maki's destruction of the Zenin clan reflects Sukuna's idea of destructive power. She destroyed everything, hungering like a calamity. Her special Heavenly Restriction makes her incomparable to others.

Maki comparing herself to the sorcerers around her literally stunted her growth.

Maki realizing that she couldn't compare herself to others allowed her to reach a new power spike. In a foreboding sense, the closer she became to Sukuna's idea of strength, the more powerful she became. Though, characters like Yuta and Yuji contradict Sukuna's ideology.

While the backstab in 251 cemented the connection between the Toji -> Gojo and Maki -> Sukuna, the fight in 253 developed the more immediate motivations within the narrative between the two. The art and Sukuna's monologue demonstrated how tied these two have become. Toji and Gojo act as a narrative vehicle to foreshadow the events of this final duel. Yet, the events of 253 finally give both Maki and Sukuna a reason between the two of them to fight with everything on the line. 253 provides the appropriate stakes for their clash.

Sukuna seeks to prove the might of jujutsu sorcery over a power that rejects it, and ultimately him as the greatest sorcerer in history.

Maki must end this now. Yuta has been cut down and Maki feels it's now her responsibility to kill Sukuna or things will only continue to get worse.

Visual Parallels

The main (obvious) connections between Toji and Maki

While Naoya was an idiot, his comparison between Gojo and Toji was not random and should be acknowledged. He recognized the two of them as being the pinnacles of strength. Though, Naoya did not have the sense to understand what Toji and Gojo represented: jujutsu and the rejection of it. Naoya could never occupy the space that Toji and Gojo did. Not only due to his lack of power, but also because he doesn't have the same Heavenly Restriction that Toji and Maki share. Moreso, Toji and Maki represent the antithesis of the strongest sorcerer by being the strongest beings beyond jujutsu sorcery.

Toji, and Maki by extension, have been narratively connected to Gojo, who satisfies the fateful role of strongest sorcerer. Toji's connection to Gojo mirrors Maki's connection to Sukuna. The backstab in 251 seals this connection between the two pairs.

The backstab, and the subsequent visual parallels, connects Sukuna to Gojo in a losing scenario.

Gege has been matching Gojo and Sukuna's actions and visuals since Gojo's death. The black flash in 253 is yet another parallel to Gojo! These connections will end in Sukuna's defeat by Maki; she will finish what Toji could not.

Throughout 253, Gege depicts both Maki and Sukuna with shadows obscuring their faces and bodies, demonstrating a shared darkness within them.

This shared darkness represents both their battle hungry natures as monsters. After slaughtering the Zenin and severing all of her ties to sorcery, Maki became a demonic fighter. Gege uses the shadows covering their forms to demonstrate the monsters within.

Gege's recent and more direct visuals connect a losing Gojo to Sukuna. Gojo seemed to be winning in a similar fashion to Sukuna, dominating his enemy and even landing black flashes against them. Still, Gojo lost in the end to his opponent, and I argue Maki will finally end Sukuna.

Gojo thinks of the last time he's ever feared loss, and remembers Toji. I believe Sukuna will have a similar moment where he fears loss by Maki's hands which will mirror these pages.

Gege has left little crumbs throughout the story connecting Toji and Gojo, depicting Toji to be the antithesis to jujutsu, and finally connecting Toji and Maki. While that's commonly understood, I don't think enough people respect the fact that Toji, Gojo, and Maki's connection meets Sukuna in the end. Gege has tied all four of them together in the narrative, and that's sure to have some major payoff.

Their clash will answer Gege's questions about strength, love, and isolation. Neither Sukuna nor Maki allow love to hold them back, but they approach other people very differently. I'm curious to see how Sukuna approaches Maki as an opponent, especially now that she's survived his black flash. He's bound to have a whole new level of respect for her, more than he already did. Seeing as she has placed a burden upon him, what secrets will he unleash to prove jujutsu sorcery's might?

Notes:

They doubted her, but I stayed ten toes down for Maki! I promised she would come back and look at her! We're on the road to Maki ending Sukuna, and I'll be here every step of the way.

Original post here.

Reddit post if you wanna see some misogyny.

Read here for my analysis and explanation to what a serious Sukuna fight looks like.

Sukuna immediately reentered a state of ecstasy when Maki cut off his arm.

Yes, I believe Yuji will be part of the final battle....but this is a post specifically about Maki and Sukuna.

Additions from a friend:

About Sukuna being an arbiter who bestows judgement upon humans really falls in line with him speaking to Jogo and Kashimo in their afterlife scene

Also Mahito's words to Yuji about the clash of truths strengthen your point about proving their ideals since Sukuna stated that he wants to crush Yuji's ideals in ch 248

[beardedmrbean]

The Philadelphia school district failed to show it protected Jewish students from harassment despite “repeated, extensive notice” that students, teachers and administrators were engaging in antisemitic behavior, the U.S. Department of Education has concluded after a federal civil rights investigation.

Philadelphia school administrators did not adequately address allegations that students were performing Nazi salutes, drawing swastikas on school property and uttering slurs and threats against Jewish students — in some cases neglecting to even document the incidents, the Education Department's Office for Civil Rights found. Federal investigators also cited complaints about allegedly antisemitic social media posts by a school board member, an assistant superintendent and four teachers.

The Philadelphia district, among the largest public school systems in the U.S., did not evaluate whether a hostile environment existed in its schools, and did not demonstrate that it took steps to “eliminate any such hostile environment and prevent its recurrence," the civil rights office said in a Dec. 18 letter to the district's lawyers.

The letter noted that Philadelphia officials have agreed to take various steps to resolve the case. The agreement includes annual training for administrators, faculty and staff; age-appropriate anti-harassment programming for students; better documentation of complaints; and an anti-harassment statement.

“The Philadelphia School District has committed to taking essential steps to redress any hostile environment in its schools so that Jewish students, like all students, can learn in an environment free from discriminatory harassment,” Catherine E. Lhamon, assistant secretary for civil rights, said in a statement.

The Anti-Defamation League, a prominent Jewish advocacy group, was among several Jewish groups to file complaints against the district earlier this year. The Education Department opened an investigation to determine whether district officials appropriately responded to the alleged harassment as required under Title VI of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, which prohibits discrimination based on shared ancestry.

ADL said it hopes the agreement between the Education Department and the school district will help prevent additional harassment and targeting of Jewish students.

“We are grateful for the Jewish students and parents who had the courage to speak out against the pattern of antisemitic harassment, abuse and bullying they were experiencing,” said Jonathan Greenblatt, ADL’s chief executive officer.

ADL has filed similar complaints against other school districts, including Berkeley and Santa Ana in California.

The Philadelphia district said it “takes all complaints of bullying, harassment, and discrimination seriously, including allegations of antisemitism and Islamophobia.” The district also said it’s committed to “continue efforts to create welcoming and inclusive environments that allow our students to feel safe and heard.”

Federal investigators said they were concerned that district staff had retaliated against parents who filed complaints. In one such incident, a teacher identified the complainant by name on her Instagram account and wrote she was “taking the gloves off,” adding: “Zionism is Racism,” the civil rights office said in its letter. Another teacher reposted the first teacher’s post and wrote: “These are some disgusting, cowardly, genocide supporting fools. They thought they could hide.”

Andrew Goretsky, the director of ADL’s Philadelphia office, said ADL believes that antisemitic harassment, assault and vandalism are underreported because of fears of retaliation.

[yourreddancer]

Heather Cox Richardson

November 20, 2024

Nov 21

Remember how American voters so hated Project 2025, the playbook for a second Trump term written by the Heritage Foundation and other right-wing institutions, that Trump said he had nothing to do with it, and then one of its key architects, Russell Vought, told undercover filmmakers that Trump was only running away from the project as political cover? 

It appears Vought was right and the story that Trump had nothing to do with Project 2025 was, indeed, just political cover. Ed O’Keefe and Major Garrett of CBS News reported today that two sources close to the Trump transition team have told them that they expect Trump to name Vought to lead the Office of Management and Budget (OMB). 

Vought wrote the section of Project 2025 that covers the presidency, calling for “aggressive use of the vast powers of the executive branch” to “bend or break the bureaucracy to the presidential will” and identifying the OMB as the means of enforcing the president’s agenda. Vought was Trump’s OMB director during the end of his first term and tried to remove the civil service protections that have been in place since 1883 to protect federal workers from being fired for political reasons. That plan, known as Schedule F, would have affected about 88% of the federal workforce. 

One of the first things Biden did when he took office was to rescind Trump’s executive order making that shift.

Like that earlier attempt, Project 2025 leans heavily on the idea that “personnel is policy,” and that idea illuminates the choices the Trump team is making. Trump has refused to sign the official documents required by the 2022 Presidential Transition Act. Those documents mandate ethics commitments and require the incoming president to disclose private donations. They also limit those donations. Without the paperwork, Trump appointees cannot start the process of getting security clearances through the Federal Bureau of Investigation; the team says it is planning to do its own vetting of its candidates instead.  

(NOTE: THAT RIGHT THERE SHOULD PREVENT SHITHEAD FROM BEING ALLOWED TO ASSUME THE PRESIDENCY!!!!)

Claiming they have a mandate, Trump’s people have said they are launching “a hostile takeover” of the American government “on behalf of the American people.” But as voting numbers continue to come in, Trump’s majority has fallen below 50% of voters, meaning that more voters chose someone else than chose Trump on November 5. These results are far from being in “mandate” territory.

The U.S. Constitution charges Congress with writing the laws under which the American people live, and the president with taking “care that the laws be faithfully executed.”

Since 1933, Congress has created an extensive system of agencies that regulate business and provide a basic social safety net. Congress will say, for example, that the U.S. needs an agency to protect the environment (like the Environmental Protection Agency, established under Republican president Richard M. Nixon), appropriate money for it, oversee its leadership, and then trust those leaders to hire the personnel necessary to carry out its mission. 

Regulations and social welfare programs and the agencies that provide them are broadly popular—think how hard it has been for members to get rid of Social Security, for example—so Congress trims at the edges rather than abolishing them. As the U.S. budget has grown, they often bear the brunt of accusations that the government spends too much, although what has really caused the budget to operate deeply in the red is the tax cuts for the wealthy put into place by Presidents George W. Bush and Donald Trump.  

Right-wing leaders who want to continue cutting regulations and taxes are newly empowered by Trump’s victory in the 2024 election, and they are turning to a quirk of the government to enable them to work around Congress. 

Since the first administration of President George Washington, agencies created by Congress have lived in the Executive Branch. If, as Vought and others argue, the president is the absolute authority in that branch, Trump can do whatever he wants with those agencies and the civil servants—the bureaucrats—who run them.  

In an op-ed in the Wall Street Journal today, billionaires Elon Musk and Vivek Ramaswamy laid out their plans for cutting the U.S. government. Neither of them has ever held elected office, but they see that as an advantage, not a downside: “We are entrepreneurs, not politicians,” they write. “We will serve as outside volunteers, not federal officials or employees.” Trump has named them to the “Department of Government Efficiency,” or DOGE. Despite the “department” name, DOGE is not an official government agency—which would require ethics disclosures—but rather an advisory panel. 

Their op-ed begins by redefining congressional authority to create agencies to suggest that agencies are illegitimate. “Most government enforcement decisions and discretionary expenditures aren’t made by the democratically elected president or even his political appointees,” they write, “but by millions of unelected, unappointed civil servants within government agencies who view themselves as immune from firing thanks to civil-service protections.” This, they say, “imposes massive direct and indirect costs on taxpayers.” 

“Thankfully,” they continue, “we have a historic opportunity to solve the problem. On Nov. 5, voters decisively elected Donald Trump with a mandate for sweeping change, and they deserve to get it.”

While “politicians” have “abetted” an “entrenched and ever-growing bureaucracy,” they write, they will work with the OMB to identify regulations that, they claim, Trump can issue an executive order to stop enforcing. “This would liberate individuals and businesses from illicit regulations never passed by Congress and stimulate the U.S. economy,” they write. Should Trump want to cut things that Congress wants to fund, they claim that Trump will simply refuse to spend those appropriations, challenging the 1974 Impoundment Control Act that declared such withholding illegal. 

Musk and Ramaswamy reiterated their support for cutting programs that are not currently authorized, although budget experts note that such a lapse is a tool to permit adjustments to programs Congress has, in fact, authorized and have also pointed out that one of the top items on that list is health care for veterans. Cuts to all these programs will naturally mean extensive cuts to the federal workforce. 

“With a decisive electoral mandate and a 6–3 conservative majority on the Supreme Court,” they write, “DOGE has a historic opportunity for structural reductions in the federal government. We are prepared for the onslaught from entrenched interests in Washington. We expect to prevail. Now is the moment for decisive action.” 

They conclude by asserting that “[t]here is no better birthday gift to our nation on its 250th anniversary than to deliver a federal government that would make our Founders proud,” which is one heck of a conclusion to a blueprint for taking the power of American lawmaking from the Congress, where the Framers put it, and delivering it into the hands of an extraordinarily powerful president acting on the advice of two unelected billionaires, one of whom wasn’t born in the United States.  

In the vein of getting rid of regulations, today the chief executive of Delta Air Lines said he expected the Trump administration would be a “breath of fresh air” after the Biden administration’s consumer-protection laws that he called government “overreach.” 

Meanwhile, in Washington, the Senate has been confirming President Joe Biden’s judicial nominees, with the absence of Republican senators making the confirmations easier.