#There's also other factual inaccuracies

[jacquelinemerritt]

I Am A Liar

Originally posted February 6th, 2014

So, remember how I said that my next blog post would be an analysis of films from the Disney Renaissance, and I would be comparing their successes and failings to Dreamworks’ The Prince of Egypt? Well that was a lie. Not a blatant lie, however. I do intend on my first film analysis to cover the Disney Renaissance, and I intend to publish that analysis on February 22nd.

Before I publish any film analyses however, I feel that it is important to provide a basic introduction to the film theorists and their theories that I will be referencing consistently, and to provide a very brief overview of film history in order to establish the context of the films I will be writing about. This will only be a basic introduction to these ideas, but if you are interested in learning more about film history or film theorists, I recommend watching the excellent documentary The Story of Film by the film historian Mark Cousins. This documentary provides a very insightful overview of the international history of film, and discusses in extensive detail the techniques involved in making some of the most important films of all time. As far as more specific questions regarding film history or film theorists go, feel free to ask me and I will do my best to answer.

Film history “begins” with Thomas Edison (the moving picture dates back to the 1400s with magic lanterns). Thomas Edison invented the motion picture in order to settle a bet about whether a horse’s legs touched the ground as it galloped. From there on other men blah bleh blah bleh blablebla.

I lost you didn’t I? Yeah, film history up until the 1910s is something that I find completely boring as well. There are certainly a good number of innovations in cinema before then, and the Lumiere Brothers and George Melies made very important contributions to film history. The problem is that until the 1910s, there was no one using film as a storytelling medium. Events were being recorded, and magic tricks were done through editing and cuts, but there was very little art to this type of filmmaking. As much as I respect the Lumiere Brothers and Melies for their contributions, studying them is simply uninteresting when your primary concern is film as an art.

Because of this, I’m going to skip until we come the first feature length film, D.W. Griffith’s Birth of a Nation. D.W. Griffith is the man most often credited with inventing the language of film editing, and while this is not very accurate, D.W. Griffith did make a number of contributions to cinema that cannot be overlooked. Griffith’s most important contributions can be seen in this clip from his film, Intolerance.

There’s a lot to be said about the Babylon sequence in Intolerance, but I personally feel that there is one particular shot that is the most important to understand Griffith’s contributions to film. That shot is at 1:30. It’s a six second crane shot from high above the set, shot using a wide angle lens, with hundreds of extras moving around on the set. Short films before D.W. Griffith managed to capture the emotion of small events, and tell simple and short stories, but no movie before Intolerance had managed to show a location in such a grand scale. Griffith’s film Birth of a Nation also managed to capture something incredibly important, despite its prevalent racism and bigotry: the frenzy of war.

Now, if you look at that scene from Birth of a Nation and try to compare it to Saving Private Ryan, obviously it isn’t comparable. But there’s still excitement to be found in that scene. Griffith cuts quickly, and has his actors behave frantically. He uses deep focus to paint the landscape of the Civil War. As fearful as we may be for the characters involved, the strongest feeling evoked by that scene is excitement. This battle is exciting; it’s visceral, and we’re caught in its frenzy.

There of course is so much more to be said about Griffith, and much of it has been said already and better by people with much more knowledge and experience with Griffith than me. My next post will cover the Soviet Film Theorists Sergei Eisenstein and Vsevolod Pudovkin, as well as the Kuleshov experiments and Alfred Hitchcock’s application and explanation of them.

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If you liked this, consider supporting me on Patreon, or donating to my Ko-Fi.

[imaginespazzi]

Here's To Eternity

Four times Paige brings up marriage and the one time Azzi finally says yes.

(In which an angst writer attempts to write fluff and it takes her far longer than it should have)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: mainly Fluff with a little bit of Angst

Words: 8K (I swear it was meant to be below 5K when I planned it)

TW: Implied sexual content, alcohol, swearing

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3. Gonna do this at the beginning instead of the end today. This took years off my life and I still don't fully love it but I'm tired of thinking about it so hopefully y'all still like it. Really quickly, I've never been to Minnesota or the state fair so if you have, pretend you do not see the likely factual inaccuracies. Also feel free to let me know what you don't like because as I've said, I don't really write fluff well so by all means call me out. And finally, I edited this I swear but I'm sure there are still mistakes, so let me know about those too. Anyways, I hope this is a good pre-game read and let's get another W!

i don’t know what love is (i’d learn for you) 

The first time Paige says it, they’re at the Minnesota State Fair. It’s all the way back when they’re just two young girls learning each other, carefree and completely unaware that this will become a tradition. They’ve barely known each other but being with Azzi already feels easy, natural, like home. And she doesn’t really know how she knows it, it’s just a feeling really, but Paige is convinced that Azzi’s meant to be in her life forever. 

They’ve been at the fair almost all day, with members of both of their families joining them here and there. Paige and Azzi had been competing at various arcade games all day, keeping a tally of who won which arcade game. They’d even turned going on rides into a competition of “who could hold in their screams the longest”. Their bickering, while endearing, had earned them more than a few fond eye rolls as their families eventually got bored of being third wheels and went on to find something more engaging. 

They’d intentionally left the pop-a-shot, a basketball arcade game, til the very end, knowing it would be the ideal tie-breaker. And as the day comes to an end, they are in fact very much tied although Paige will tell you, that she didn’t actually scream on the Skyscraper; it had merely been a quiet whimper that Azzi was exaggerating the volume of. And Azzi will tell you that she deserved a re-do on the ring toss because it wasn’t her fault that the wind had decided to pick up on that very moment. Ultimately both of their arguments had fallen on deaf ears when they had appealed their cases to some very exasperated family members. 

“Get ready to lose to the better shooter,” Paige gloats, rubbing her hands together in preparation to shoot. She’d lost two rounds of rock paper scissors to Azzi’s one, meaning she’d missed the chance to go second like she would have preferred but that hadn’t done much to deter her confidence. 

“We’ll see,” Azzi scoffs, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms as she stands back a little bit to give Paige the space she needs. 

Paige smirks at her friend as she shoots the ball, definitely showing off a little bit. The ball arcs in the air before swishing into the basket, all net and no rim. The blonde’s grin only widens as she repeats the motion, again and again and again. She gets eight of them in perfectly, the ninth hits the backboard but rolls in and then-

“You missed,” Azzi yells the minute the last ball is out of Paige’s hands and they both watch, one in excitement, the other in irritation, as the ball falls miserably far away from the net. 

“That’s not fair,” Paige turns around immediately, “you distracted me. That doesn’t even count.”

“Nuh uh, we didn’t set a no distracting rule and I only said something after you released it. I already knew you were gonna miss,” Azzi counters gleefully. 

“Bruh, how could you have possibly known that?”

“Because my basketball IQ is way beyond yours,” it’s Azzi’s turn to smirk as she bumps Paige in the hip, switching spots so she can take her turn. 

“You’re still gonna lose. I made nine, you’re barely gonna make,” Paige pretends to think, “hmm maybe seven”

Azzi doesn’t respond, choosing instead to reply by immediately making her first basket. Her arc is perfect as always, the same shot Paige had been awed by when they’d been at camp for USA basketball. She makes the next and the next and the one after that until she’s at her 10th shot, ready to go a perfect 10 for 10 and beat Paige. Maybe it’s the competitiveness or maybe Paige has lost her goddamn mind, but she barely registers the next words that come out of her mouth. 

“If you make the last shot, you have to marry me,” and it’s supposed to be a threat, a way to stop Azzi from making the last bucket and winning their silly little competition but it comes out giddy and breathless. 

“What?” Azzi asks, eyes wide as she turns around to face Paige and well, she’s said them now, Paige might as well own them. 

“You heard me,” Paige says, cocking her head, the arrogance in her voice a complete contrast to the rapid beating of her heart, “you make that shot, and we’re engaged. Or you don’t make it and you lose.”

Azzi’s eyes narrow, confusion melting away to a familiar fierceness.  The thing is, she knows she could miss it if she wanted to but the thought of losing is somehow worse than being engaged at fourteen. She tries not to dwell on why that idea doesn’t seriously frighten her, telling herself it’s because there’s no way Paige will ever hold her to that. Taking a deep breath, Azzi lifts up her hands and shoots the ball. 

Here’s the thing, Paige likes winning. She enjoys the effort that goes into getting a win and the satisfaction that follows after. But as the ball leaves Azzi’s hand, that same perfect arc, she thinks, maybe it would be okay if Azzi made this basket today. She thinks maybe it would be okay if she lost. Both girls wait with bated breath, as the ball hits the backboard and circles the rim. For a brief second, it seems like it might slide off the edge but it doesn’t. It falls into the net with a swish and Azzi wins. 

The brunette lets out a squeal of happiness as the arcade game lights up with “WINNER”, doing a happy dance and flipping her hair. And Paige is so mesmerized by Azzi’s infectious happiness, the fact that she’s just lost ceases to mean anything. She doesn’t know what this feeling is, isn’t quite ready to understand it, but she knows it’s slowly creeping up her veins and consuming every part of her. 

“What prize would you like honey,” the middle-aged woman running the booth asks, pointing to the assortment of gifts sitting in a booth next to the game. Azzi pulls a still-stunned Paige with her to get a closer look at the prizes, eyes roaming over all the fun things until they finally settle on one of them. 

“I’ll take that packet of rings,” she gives Paige a devilish smirk, "I think I just got engaged.”

Paige gapes at Azzi while the woman fetches the packet of rings that Azzi had chosen. As far as fake jewelry goes, the rings are kind of atrocious. Huge colorful stones are placed haphazardly on a silver ring that looks like it might rust the next seconds. Azzi picks out a pink one and hands it to Paige, before holding out her hand. Still slightly dazed by everything, Paige does as she’s gestured to and slips the ring onto Azzi’s ring finger. And she’s sure she must be going insane because the ugly ring looks quite pretty on Azzi’s slender fingers. 

“You better get me a real one eventually,” Azzi says and she’s joking, Paige knows that but she can’t help the part of her that takes it at face value, the part of her that subconsciously promises Azzi to get her a real one eventually. She’s only fifteen and she’s sure she doesn’t know what love is but standing here in the cool Minnesota summer breeze, getting fake engaged to a girl she feels like she’s known her whole life, Paige thinks, maybe she’d like to learn. 

2. crossing boundaries (taking leaps of faith)

The second time Paige says it, they’ve crossed a line in their friendship and she kind of wants to cross a couple more. By this point, Paige is pretty sure she’s at least a little in love with her best friend. It had been okay when she’d first got to UConn, the distance between them allowing Paige to ignore her feelings that had become unbearably intense over the covid year she’d spent with the Fudds. And then the thing she’d worked her ass off to make happen had happened and Azzi had come to UConn. It wasn’t that she wasn’t happy to have Azzi here. With her being injured for most of her sophomore season, there’s no one else Paige would have rather had by her side through it all. It was the playing platonic that drove her a little insane. Because somewhere between the arguing over nothing and the talking about everything, Azzi had stopped being her best friend and had become something more. 

It all comes to a head during a mid-April night at Ted’s. They’re partially still in mourning for their national championship loss and so it’s not really a surprise that the team is perhaps a little freer with the alcohol than they normally are. It’s definitely the alcohol that has Paige seething in jealousy at Azzi nonchalantly flirting with some random girl who had had the nerve to buy the brunette a drink. And it’s definitely the alcohol that makes her march over angrily and squeeze herself between the two girls. But it might be a little much to blame the half a glass of spiked shirley Paige had had for the way she wraps her arms around Azzi’s waist, leaning into the younger girl’s personal space in a way that is decidedly not platonic.

“Hi love,” she whispers, blinking her eyes up at a rather confused Azzi, who despite said confusion, doesn’t push her away. Instead, Azzi’s arms circle around Paige’s neck. It’s muscle memory really. But now they’re far closer than appropriate for two best friends and Paige swears she can make out every detail on Azzi’s face. Her eyes fixate on Azzi’s throat as the darker-skinned girl swallows, a sign of nervous anticipation, and she fights the visceral urge to bite down on Azzi’s neck and leave a mark so permanent, no other girl would ever have the audacity to look at what’s hers. 

“Oh, I didn’t know,” she hears the offending flirt say.

“Well now you do,” Paige replies before Azzi can respond, keeping her eyes focused on the girl in front of her, “she’s not interested.”

The sound of feet scurrying away makes Paige smirk. Azzi raises her eyes but doesn’t make a move to pull away. 

“You looked like you needed help,” the blond lies blatantly, “and I’m nothing if not helpful.”

“Is that what you were doing? Trying to be helpful?” Azzi asks, a coy smile playing on her lips as she presses closer to Paige, “because I could have sworn you were jealous.”

Paige’s breath hitches as she focuses on the way Azzi says those words, the way her lips quirk and her eyes sparkle, because it’s not the alcohol this time, no she’s pretty damn sure Azzi’s flirting with her. The realization sets her heart ablaze and she grips Azzi’s waist even tighter, trying to find something stable to hold onto. 

“And if- if I was-  if I was jealous, then what?”

“I’d tell you, you didn’t really have a reason to be. She wasn’t really my type.”

“Yeah,” Paige can’t help but smirk, suddenly feeling a surge of confidence, “what is your type Azzi?”

Azzi hums, her shy smile a response in itself. They’re so close now, with their chests pressed up against each other, that Paige can hear the erratic thrum of Azzi’s heart beating. It’s comforting in a way, to know that she has the effect on Azzi too, that she’s the reason Azzi’s breathing is so uneven. Subconsciously, Paige leans in, eyes tracing the outline of Azzi’s lips, her entire body wracked with want. 

“Azzi,” she whispers, knocking her forehead against the other girl’s, “tell me to stop.” 

Anticipation burns against Paige’s skin, the feeling of finally racing through her body. She’s hypnotized by the way they seem to be breathing as one. Her eyes close of their own accord and she can almost feel the taste of Azzi’s lips when the brunette presses a gentle hand against her chest. 

“Stop,” Azzi whispers. 

Paige’s eyes fly open. Stung, she lets go of Azzi’s waist immediately, the tears ready to fall. She’d been so sure she’d read the moment right-

“Hey, hey no Paige wait,” Azzi scrambles to grab onto the blonde, fully aware of the panic that has settled into the other girl's bones, “I didn’t- I just- I didn’t mean it like that. I- fuck sorry, I don’t- I want-” she takes in a deep breath, her brain unable to speak her mind, “I want to kiss you, I do- I just don’t want our first kiss to be in front of all these people.”

The last part is a little mumbled but Paige hears it clear as day. She gapes at her best friend, not sure if she wants to shake her or jump her bones (both, definitely both). 

“You couldn’t have just said that?” Paige asks exasperatedly, “I don’t really take rejection well in case you haven’t noticed.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I panicked, you were so close and I was distracted,” Azzi rambles incoherently and Paige is so ridiculously endeared by this girl. 

“Azzi,” she says slowly, stepping back into the younger girl's space, and holding out a hand, “you wanna get out of here?”

She’s rewarded with a bright smile and Azzi  grabbing her outstretched hand with no hesitation. As the two of them make their way through the crowd, hands locked together, Paige can’t think of a moment where she’s felt this ecstatic. They stumble through the street towards their apartments, giggling like kindergarteners who’ve just been given a sweet treat. After a year, longer, of holding it in, Paige feels like she’s finally free. 

They’ve barely made it to Paige’s room, before she has Azzi pinned against the wall causing the younger girl to let out an audible gasp. It’s sinful the way she looks up at Paige, as if she’d do anything for her. And god Paige wants to find out just how much she can push that. 

“Tell me to stop,” Paige repeats her words from the bar, her right thumb coming up to  lightly caressing Azzi’s bottom lip. She’s giving her an out, a last chance before they cross a line in their friendship that they’ll never be able to uncross. But her words evoke a new fire in Azzi’s eyes and Paige just knows. 

“Absolutely not.”

She’s not sure who kisses who first, doesn’t really care but she knows she’s never felt anything quite like this. It’s something beyond sparks, something more exciting, yet something ever so calming. All she knows is she wants more. Her hands roam everywhere, moving from Azzi’s neck, to her arms, to her hips before moving even lower. And Azzi fucking whimpers, the sound of it causing Paige to press even harder against her. She pulls away and Azzi chases her lips for a second, before Paige attaches them to the younger girl’s neck instead. 

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this,” Paige manages to get out, biting against Azzi’s skin. She means to be soft, she really does but all she can think about is leaving a mark, a possessive bruise that would make sure everyone knew not to touch what was hers.

“Not longer than me,” Azzi’s hands are tangled in Paige's hair and she’s putty in the older girl’s hand. Paige could ask anything of her, and Azzi’s sure, she’d give it to her in a heartbeat. 

“I’m gonna make it worth the wait,” Paige pants, moving away from the brunette’s neck to kiss her again, “I promise.”

“Gonna show me what the hype is about?” Azzi says cheekily, as Paige pulls her onto the bed. She climbs on top of the blond, straddling her thighs. 

“Gonna show you even better,” Paige whispers and Azzi shivers at the promise in her voice. And then Paige’s lips her on hers again, desperate and impatient. Her hands work meticulously as she unbuttons Azzi’s blouse, leaving the young girl’s upper body bare. Azzi can't help the insecurity that creeps into her when Paige stares at her like that, like she’s seeing her for the first time. 

“You’re so fucking perfect,” Paige says, erasing away the doubt, “fuck, marry me.”

Paige doesn’t know why that slips out, doesn’t know why it rolls off her tongue so smoothly, doesn’t know why it doesn’t feel like a completely preposterous thing to say at the moment. 

“You say that to all your hookups?” Azzi asks slowly. It’s said light-heartedly enough but the hints of doubt aren’t hard to catch. In one swift motion, Paige flips them so that Azzi’s lying underneath her. Using her elbows, she hovers over the younger girl, making sure she can see the sincerity in her eyes. 

“No, no I don't. And you,” she says pointedly, needing Azzi to understand how she feels, “are not a hookup.”

Azzi smiles, arms wrapping around Paige’s neck, “maybe take me out on a date first and then we can talk about marriage.”

“Yeah, yeah I will but,” Paige grins devilishly, fingers dancing around the waistband of Azzi’s jeans, “I think I’ll fuck you first.

3. on the brink of destruction (maybe you’ll catch me)

The third time Paige says it, she’s desperately trying to save them from falling apart. They’ve always known this moment would come, known it even before they’d known each other. To play in the WNBA had always been the end-goal for both of them and it should be the happiest moment of their lives with both of them being guaranteed first-round picks who were likely to make a roster. But the whole thing comes with the caveat, that for the first time in almost four years, Paige and Azzi will have to learn to live apart from each other. 

Paige hadn’t even considered that it would mean they’d have to break up. The whole season, despite a thousand and one conversations about the draft, the idea hadn’t once been brought up. Long distance would be difficult, Paige knew that, but she’d figured they’d tackle it in the same way they’d faced everything else: together. Apparently Azzi thought differently. Apparently Azzi had been thinking about it for a while and last night, when she’d finally said the words out loud, Paige’s whole world had fallen off balance. She’d tried interrupting but once Azzi had her mind set on something, it was hard to deter her.

It’s been less than 24 hours since and KK and Ice have done everything in their power to distract her but Paige can���t stop thinking about it. If she hadn’t known Azzi for as long as she had, then maybe she would have believed the façade of coldness and practicality that her girlfriend had put on. She had spoken as if she was negotiating the end of a contract, her face set firmly on neutral. But Paige had seen the way she was fidgeting uncontrollably with the hem of her shirt, heard the little crack in her voice when she’d said the actual words out loud. 

“Was she at breakfast?” Paige asks, interrupting whatever spiel KK had been going on. The sophomore gives her a look that veers between irritation and sympathy. 

“Dude, we weren’t even at breakfast. We ate with you up here, remember?”

“Right,” Paige says, mindlessly thumbing at her sheets. She’s in unfamiliar territory, trying to navigate a world without Azzi. She can’t even remember the last morning she’d had that didn’t start with some form of communication with her girlfriend, a good morning kiss or a text or a call. 

“Y’all are being stupid,” Ice supplies unhelpfully. 

“Don’t even start,” Paige quips back defensively, “I didn’t do anything.”

“Maybe that’s the issue,” KK’s report is met with a well-aimed pillow in her direction. 

“Can you guys maybe just take my side for once please?”

“Children of divorce don’t choose sides,” Ice says solemnly. She has the foresight to duck and Paige’s water bottle hits the wall with a resounding thud, “aye no violence.”

“Fuck off and go away,” Paige groans, burying her face in her hands. 

“This is literally my room,” Ice replies and KK snickers. 

“I’m so glad my misery amuses you guys.”

Before either of the two underclassmen can reply, a familiar voice resounds around the room and Paige’s heart almost beats out of her chest. It’s been less than 24 hours but fuck, she’s missed the sound of it.

“Ice do you have- oh.”

“Hi Azzi,” KK says enthusiastically and Paige can already picture the forced smile Azzi gives her. She hates that stupid smile. 

“Hey KK. I- uh, Ice I was looking for the  necklace you borrowed. I- uh wanted to wear it with my dress for the draft, but umm- it’s- it’s fine. I’ll come back later.”

Paige scoffs, suddenly annoyed. She lifts her head from her hands and Azzi’s already looking at her but the minute their eyes meet, she looks away. It only irritates Paige further. 

“It’s fine Az. I can get it for you now,” Ice says, hopping up and rummaging through one of her. 

“No it’s fine, I should go. I have to go do…something.”

“You’re such a fucking liar,” Paige says before she can stop herself. The awkwardness in the air changes to a sinister tension. KK and Ice wear identical expressions of shock and worry, looking back and forth between Paige and Azzi.

“Excuse me?” Azzi says eyes narrowing dangerously. 

“All that bullshit you said last night. You said we’d still be friends. You said it’d be like we used to be before. You said things wouldn’t change that much and this would be for the better. You said we’d be fine. But fucking hell Azzi, you can’t even stand to be in the same room as me right now,” tears prickle in her eyes and she can’t tell if they’re from anger or pain or frustration. 

“I-It will be okay. We’ll be fine, eventually,” Azzi pauses, struggling to get the words out, “I just- we just- we need time to learn how to be just friends again.”

“I don’t want to be just friends Azzi,” Paige spits. 

“Neither do I,” Azzi bursts out, hands clenching, “but we have to try.”

“Oh-kay,” KK cuts in, noticing the rise in voices, “just because Ice and I call ourselves children of divorce, doesn’t mean y’all have to act like an actual divorced couple. All this yelling is not good for my heart.”

“Shut up KK,” they snap at the same time, and KK immediately raises her hands in surrender. 

“Why,” Paige turns her attention back to Azzi, “why do we have to try? You don’t want to be just friends. I sure as shit don’t want to be just friends. So what’s the fucking point? When neither of us want this, why are we fucking doing this?”

“Because I’m scared okay?” Azzi yells, her eyes widening as the truth slips out. She immediately cups her mouth, her anger fading away. Tears pool at the corner of her eyes, as emotions she’d been trying so hard to push down, bubble to the surface. She sees the way Paige eyes soften, can feel the sympathy in the way KK and Ice are looking at her, but before any of them can say anything, her feet are moving, desperate to get away from them, from Paige. 

“Paige,” Ice hisses when the blond stays rooted in place, “move.”

It does the trick, shaking Paige out of her trance. She doesn’t need to be told twice. When she gets to Azzi’s room, she stops outside the door. The goal is to fix things but she’s so scared of damaging them further. Taking a deep breath, she lets herself in and is unsurprised to find Azzi pacing the length of the room. 

“You have ‘got to stop running away from me. I’m not as young as I used to be,” Paige jokes. She’s not expecting a smile in return, the situation is far too tense, but when Azzi looks at her with nothing but sadness, all the humour leaves her body. 

“Please leave me alone,” Azzi whispers,  “please don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

“You’re the one making this harder Az. We don’t have to do this,” Paige takes a step forward, groaning when Azzi immediately takes a step back. 

“We do because otherwise we’re gonna fall apart. You don’t see it but we’re gonna end up resenting each other because we miss each other so much,” Azzi says miserably, the tears freely falling now. 

“You think I’ll miss you less if you’re not my girlfriend? You think breaking up is going to stop us from falling apart?” Paige asks incredulously, “you know you’ve had some stupid ideas before Azzi, but this, this one might be the dumbest yet.”

“Well, do you have a better one?” Azzi asks, throwing her hands in the air. 

“Yes, let’s just get married instead! Then we’ll have to be stuck with each other for life and you can stop trying to break up with me,” and maybe it’s somewhat of an irrational thing to say but Paige finds that she means it.

“Paige,” Azzi grits out, “this is serious.”

“I’m being dead serious right now actually.”

“Marriage is not going to stop us from being drafted to different teams. It’s not gonna stop us from having to live in different states.”

“Neither is breaking up,” Paige yells. Frustrated, she marches over to Azzi, encircling her arms around the other girl who immediately struggles against Paige's hold but the blonde is in no mood to let this, whatever it is, go on any further. 

“Let me go-”

“No. It’s my turn to talk okay,” Paige says, tightening her grip, “get this through your head, we are not breaking up.”

She pinches Azzi’s waist when the younger girl tries to protest. Her girlfriend is nothing if not stubborn but so is Paige. 

“You know I barely slept last night? I’ve been so fucking miserable all day. I’ve spent every minute thinking about you, every minute missing you. And if we do this, that feeling of missing you and knowing I can’t have you, is how I’m going to feel for the rest of my life. And that, that might kill me. I know you think it’ll be easier being friends or whatever but I can’t do that Azzi. I can’t be your friend. I can’t be near you and not kiss you. I can’t call you and not tell you I love you,” Paige’s voice breaks near the end as tears begin to stream down her face. 

“I’m scared. I’m so scared. I don’t want to lose you,” Azzi confesses in a whisper and it’s heartbreaking how vulnerable the darker-skinned girl sounds. 

“Then don’t. Keep me and let me keep you. I know you're scared baby but,” Paige presses her forehead against Azzi’s, “but trust me Azzi, we’ll make it work okay. I need you to believe that. I need you to believe in us. Please Azzi, please.”

Azzi closes her eyes and Paige can almost see the cogs turning in her brain. Waiting for a decision is excruciating and the silence feels deafening as Paige’s intrusive thoughts drive her a little insane. 

“Okay,” Azzi breathes out finally, “okay we’ll try it your way. But if it doesn’t work-”

“It’s going to work,” Paige says determinedly. And finally, Azzi smiles, the real one that Paige loves. 

“It’s going to work,” she repeats back, leaning up to kiss Paige and letting out an ungraceful squawk when Paige dodges her lips, “excuse me.”

“You don’t get a kiss,” the older girl replies, moving out of reach and crossing her arms, “you just tried to break up with me. Twice.”

“I’m sorry,” Azzi whines, “please, I haven’t kissed you for hours.”

“And whose fault is that?” Paige accuses but there’s no true anger behind her words. 

Azzi pouts for a second before it’s replaced by a mischievous smirk. Before Paige can react, she jumps onto the blond, wrapping her arms around Paige’s neck. The impact of it causes Paige to stumble back a little bit before her hands settle on Azzi's hips to keep them both stable. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Azzi babbles, kissing every inch of Paige’s face. 

“Okay, okay, okay, you’re forgiven.” Paige laughs. She’s never been particularly good at staying mad at Azzi. The knot in her chest, which’s been pressing against her ribcage since last night, finally unravels as Paige tugs Azzi closer, finally pressing their lips together in a passionate kiss. A low wolf-whistle from the doorway breaks them apart far sooner than they’d have liked. 

“Y’all didn’t even last a whole 24 hours,” KK’s voice is amused but there’s a hint of relief hidden in it. 

“Should’ve closed the fucking door,” Paige grumbles as Azzi giggles into the crevice between her head and her neck. 

“That’s gotta be a record for shortest breakup ever or something,” and there’s Ice, looking equally as amused. 

“You know what that means though, parents are back together and,” KK smirks at Ice and Paige looks between the two of them questioningly, “you owe me 50 bucks.”

“Excuse me?” Paige asks with a raised eyebrow, although she’s pretty sure she already knows. 

“Ice said y’all would be broken up for a week. I gave y’all three days,” KK grins triumphantly, despite Ice giving her a dirty look. 

“I can’t believe you guys would bet on us,” Azzi shakes her head disapprovingly as she lifts her head, “actually no scratch that. I’m not surprised at all.”

“We were too generous with it though,” Ice gives them a knowing look, “can’t believe y’all thought you could survive for years.”

“Not y’all,” Paige corrects, “just Azzi.”

Azzi groans, “you’re never gonna let me forget this are you?”

“Nope,” Paige says happily, pressing a kiss to Azzi’s temple, who immediately grins. And everything in the world is right again. It’s not going to be easy being god knows how many miles apart, but Paige knows they’ll be fine. They have to be. She won’t let them be anything else. 

4. the high of it all (as long as you hold me)

The fourth time she says it, Paige doesn’t even fully remember it the day after. She won’t find out exactly what she’s said until a couple of years into the future when Azzi tells her the story with a fond look in her eye. It’s a month or so into their rookie seasons when their respective teams meet: the Lynx vs the Mystics, funny how that had worked out. So far, they’d both been doing well, locked in a competitive race for rookie of the year. As a result, their matchup is well-hyped, but no one’s more excited for it, than the two of them. 

The game ends with the Lynx winning and Paige shoots Azzi a victorious smirk which earns her a familiar eye roll. She loves winning always but this time there’s the additional reward of having her girlfriend back in her bed for the first time in weeks. The anticipation of it has her running her tongue across her lips, and with the way Azzi’s eyes glaze over, it’s clear they’re thinking the same thing. 

A couple of hours later, the Lynx team is spread out across one of the bars near their arena and Paige is definitely teetering on the edge of being drunk. She’d been a lot more reserved the other couple of times they’d done this, not wanting to take the chance of potentially embarrassing herself in front of her older teammates. But she feels freer tonight and the reason for it hasn't walked in yet.

“You two haven’t changed at all huh?” Dorka laughs, as she watches Paige pouting at the door. 

“Hey,” Paige whines, “I haven’t seen her in months! And now she’s taking too long.”

“One month,” Dorka corrects, shaking her head fondly, “and you talk to her every other hour.” 

“Same differ-”

“Hi,” an unfamiliar voice cuts Paige off, an auburn haired girl sliding into the stool next to her, “you’re Paige Bueckers?”

“Last time I checked,” Paige replies goofily, eyes still fixed on the front door. 

“I’m Shay. I’m a huge fan,” the stranger gushes, her smile radiant, “could I maybe get a picture?”

Never one to disappoint, especially not when she’s a little out of it, Paige nods. She wraps her arm casually around Shay’s shoulder, and makes a peace sign with her other hand as the other girl takes a selfie. 

“Thank you,” Shay takes a deep breath, “I uh, I was wondering if I could maybe get your num-”

“Babyyyyyy,” Paige lets out a shrill squeak as she spots her girlfriend finally entering the door. All else seems to fade away as the blonde practically skips towards her girlfriend. Dorka, who’d been watching the previous exchange, can’t help but give a very shell-shocked-looking Shay a sympathetic smile. 

“Hi babyyyy,” Paige croons again as she throws her arms around her girlfriend's neck, burying her face contentedly into Azzi’s neck. It doesn’t matter that she’s an inch or so taller than the younger girl, she fits in Azzi’s arms pretty perfectly. 

“Hi drunkie,” Azzi says fondly, brushing her hands through Paige’s hair and eliciting a happy sigh from the inebriated blond in her arms, “started without me I see.”

“You took too long and I was bored,” Paige says, snuggling further, her breath tickling against Azzi’s collarbone, making the younger girl’s breath hitch. Smirking, Paige bites down gently, knowing the exact effect it’ll have. Almost five years together, and the idea of marking her girlfriend still drives her a little insane. 

“Behave,” Azzi warns, her voice breathy, “we’re in public.”

“Then let’s get out of public,” Paige whispers as she caresses the mark she’s just left on Azzi’s throat with her tongue, clearly proud of her handiwork, “let me take you home.”

“I just got here babe,” it’s a weak response, they both know it. 

“So what?”

“I-,” Azzi stutters as Paige continues to pepper kisses into her neck, one of her hands sliding down to brush against Azzi’s exposed navel, “I haven’t even said hi to anyone else.”

“Are you here for anyone else? Or are you here for me?” 

It’s a blur how it happens, but one minute Paige is tucked under Azzi’s arms, the next Azzi finds herself pressed against the bar, Paige's hands barricading her. It's too dimly lit for anyone to be fully aware of what’s going on but Azzi desperately tries to stifle a moan when Paige shifts so that she’s filthily grinding against one of Azzi’s thighs, lips still attached to her neck. 

“Gonna make you feel so good baby. Gonna give you whatever you want. Gonna give you everything you need,” the blond promises, knowing, when Azzi’s eyes involuntarily close, that she’s close to getting what she wants, “just let me take you home.”

“Azzi!” The feeling of getting her way is short lived as Dorka’s voice echoes around them. Paige groans as her girlfriend’s eyes immediately fly open and she ducks under Paige arms to hug their old UConn teammate.

As the two other girls meet, Paige downs another drink, mumbling about “fucking Hungarians.”

“Ignore her,” Azzi rolls her eyes, still hugging Dorka, who lets out a laugh. 

“Alright that’s enough,” Paige frowns, pulling Azzi back into her so that her back is pressed against Paige’s chest, “go find your own Azzi to hug, this one’s mine and we’re leaving.”

Sober Paige does not get testy when Azzi hugs other people, especially not old teammates and friends, well not a lot anyway. But drunk Paige doesn’t like sharing her girlfriend, no matter how platonically that is. 

“Always so possessive Bueckers,” Dorka teases, but she complies  “it was good seeing you Az. Don’t be late to practice Paige.”

The blond point guard lets out a satisfied sigh, lacing her hands with Azzi’s, “see you’ve met people, now can we please go?”

“I’ve met one person,” Azzi rolls her eyes but doesn’t put up a fight as her girlfriend begins to pull her out of the bar. 

The uber ride back to Paige’s apartment is relatively silent with Paige tucking herself into Azzi, who can tell that despite her previous eagerness, her girlfriend is pretty likely to pass out the minute she lies down. It doesn’t matter really. Cuddles. Sex. Whatever. As long as it’s with Paige, Azzi loves every minute of it. Besides, there’s always tomorrow morning. 

“M’sorry, m’so tired,” Paige mumbles as she does exactly what Azzi had expected by flopping onto the bed the minute they tumble into the bedroom, “make it up to you tomorrow. I promise.”

The brunette shakes her head with a smile, taking both their shoes off, before lying down next to her girlfriend, who immediately curls into her, wrapping her arms around Azzi’s torso. 

“I’m glad you’re here. I missed you,” she whispers into Azzi’s skin, eyes closed. 

“Missed you too baby,” the darker skinned girl pressed a kiss onto her girlfriend’s forehead, squeezing her arm gently. 

There’s a pause and for a second Azzi thinks maybe Paige has fallen asleep until the next words come out her mouth and steal Azzi’s breath away. 

“I can’t wait to marry you,” Paige confesses in a whisper, “you’re gonna make the prettiest bride. We’re gonna have such a beautiful wedding. Outside. Maybe on a basketball court.  And Coach is gonna officiate it and everyone’s gonna be there. Our family, our friends and it’s gonna be wonderful. The best ever.”

Azzi can’t bring herself to speak, the emotions suddenly becoming a little too strong. She knows Paige is drunk but the words are so sincere, like they’re things Paige has been thinking about for a long time. 

“Gonna have two kids,” Paige smiles as she continues to babble, unaware of the effect that has on Azzi, “a girl and a boy. They’re gonna be the most loved kids in the world. And we’re gonna teach them basketball. And they’re gonna be perfect, just like you. Just like us.”

In the silence, Azzi listens to Paige’s breathing even out, a sign that the older girl has drifted into sleep. And she lets herself imagine the picture Paige had just painted for her. As she holds her girlfriend closer to her, she knows she wants that life too. The wedding. The kids. The perfection of it all. She falls asleep dreaming about it, unaware that hidden in the drawer right next to her, is a ring that has her name on it. 

5. finding forever (the inevitability of us) 

When Paige finally proposes, they’re back at the Minnesota State Fair. She’s had the ring for a couple of years now, waiting for things to fall into place so that they could finally play on the same team and actually be together. That hadn’t been an easy process and of course, they’d argued about it, perhaps going a little too far at times. But now, when she finally gets to wake up to Azzi’s peaceful sleepy smile, every single morning, it all seems worth it. 

The proposal, if Paige is honest, is just a formality. In her head, she’s been a married woman for a long time. Whatever ceremony they’d have, whatever papers they’d sign, wouldn’t do much to alter their already domestic lives. But she wanted that celebration, the moment with her family and friends where they’d become bound in the one way they weren’t yet: legally. And this proposal was the start of that. 

The list of ideas she’d planned out and discussed with their family and friends was long and had earned her plenty of sighs and eye rolls. Nothing had seemed quite right until she’d whined about it to both their mothers. They’d said to go back to the beginning and it had all clicked into place. 

As they have every year since they’d started coming to the state fair together, they’re engaged in a competition again. Every year, they get a little bit more competitive and every year their families' sighs get a little heavier. Something about it, makes the two of them reverse back to being fifteen. The ridiculous trash talk, the sticking their tongues out at each other, the exaggerated pouting when they lose, it’s all further proof of them still being children at heart. Except now, when Azzi pouts, Paige gets to kiss it off. 

They’re tied again this summer, as they seem to be most years. Though this year, there’s been a little bit of planning on Paige’s part. 

“Pop-a-shot it is,” Azzi sighs, “even though you absolutely cheated on that last hole in mini golf,” she turns to their families, who normally would have left by now but have stayed back today, with a dramatic spin, “and I can’t believe you all saw it, but you’re taking her side.”

“Not me Azzi, I’m on your side. I know she cheated,” Drew, the traitor, chirps with a smirk and Paige glares at her little brother whose loyalty to her girlfriend never wavers. 

“Thank you Drew. The only person who loves me for real,” Azzi puts one hand to her heart, and ruffles the younger boy’s with the other. 

“Save the dramatics for when you lose babe,” Paige says, rolling her eyes, “alright rock paper scissors.”

They play best of three as they always do. Paige wins the first round. Azzi wins the second. There’s momentary panic when Azzi technically wins the third because well, Paige sort of needs to be in control if this is going to work. The thing is Azzi likes to mix up whether she’ll choose to go first or second, according to her it keeps Paige on her toes. But today Paige really needs her girlfriend to go second. 

“Oh Az no cheating,” Tim cuts in, coming to the rescue, “you waited to see what she’d do.”

“WHAT?” Azzi squeals, “I absolutely did not.”

“Oh honey, I think you did,” Katie sends Paige a wink and she can’t help but smile at the family she’s found. 

“You’re not serious,” Azzi says with a betrayed voice, squinting at her parents, before turning to Paige’s mom, who gives her a consoling pat, “please adopt me.”

“Oh quit whining cheater,” Paige teases, “I’m going first.”

She steps up to the line for the game, feeling more nervous than she ever has really because this is it. There isn’t really a world in which she thinks Azzi will say no, at least not one where Paige continues breathing after. But she needs this to be perfect. Bouncing the ball for a second, she takes in a deep breath before raising her arms and shooting. It goes in, barely touching the room. So does the next. And the next one and the next one, until Paige has gotten nine shots in. 

As she goes to shoot the last one, Azzi's voice echoes around her, “miss it for me babe.”

And she does. It’s probably one of the weakest shot’s she’s ever taken in her life, the ball falling far below the basket. Behind her, she can hear their brother’s snickering. 

“Damn someone should send that to Coach,” Azzi teases, hip-checking Paige as she comes to take her spot, “better luck next time baby.”

“Yeah, yeah let’s see you do better,” Paige replies cockily, but her hands are sweating with nerves. 

“Oh you know I will,” her girlfriend responds with a grin, as she makes the first basket, that same perfect arc as always. Paige holds her breath on every shot, as the ball goes in flawlessly every time, their families cheering loudly for each one of them. As the last basket gets closer, Drew gives Paige’s hand a tight squeeze and gets a grateful smile in return. 

Taking a deep breath, as Azzi gets ready to take her last turn, Paige repeats the same words she’d said, the first time they’d been in this situation, “if you make the last shot, you have to marry me.”

“What?” Azzi whips around immediately, her eyes bright with confusion. Tongue-tied, Paige only shrugs and smiles, watching closely as Azzi lets the words sink in. A determined look crosses her face, followed by a mischievous smirk, and Paige’s heart swells. She knows the ball is going in the hoop even before the other girl's arms are in shooting position. And she’s right. The ball arcs in air and falls through the basket. And instead of the patent WINNER that normally lights up when someone makes the 10 shots, a new phrase appears on the dashboard. 

MARRY ME

Azzi gasps, hands flying to her mouth. When she whirls around, Paige is already on one knee and their families are watching with the biggest smiles. 

“I knew you lost on purpose,” Azzi breathes out, “you’ve never taken such a shit shot like that last one in your life.”

“Seriously,” Paige gapes up at her, “that’s what you get from this.”

“Babe, you hate losing,” Azzi emphasizes as if that explains everything and well, maybe it does.

“Yeah, yeah I do,” Paige nods, reaching in her back pocket to pull out the ring, “but if you say yes to me today, then it doesn’t matter if I win or lose in a stupid arcade game, or on the court or anywhere, if you say yes Azzi, no matter what, I’ll always be a winner because I’ll have you. And I had a slightly better, slightly longer speech planned but it’s kinda all gone from my mind now, so I’ll just get right to it,” she manages a watery smile in response to her girlfriend’s tearful laugh, “Azzi, my soulmate and the love of my life, will you marry me?”

“Yes. Oh my god yes, of course, yes,” Azzi manages to get out, before she falls to her knees and into Paige’s arms, pressing her lips fervently against the blonde’s, their happy tears mixing into each other. Behind them, their families burst into cheers, hugging one another in congratulations.

“Wait, wait,” Paige pulls away, her smile stretching across her whole face, “I need to put the ring on you.”

She opens the ring box, to reveal a silver band that’s designed with a large diamond in the shape of a heart in the middle with two infinity shapes made out of smaller diamonds on each side of the heart. Azzi holds out her hand, eyes shining as Paige slips it onto her ring finger. It sparkles underneath the glow of the moonlight. 

“You finally got me a real one,” she whispers, continuing to admire the ring, “fuck, Paige it’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, yeah it took me a couple of years but I always knew I would. Look at the inside,” Paige nudges and Azzi squints to see the inscription on the inner edge of the ring. 

Since Always

The meaning of it is clear and Azzi lets out something in between a sob and a laugh before throwing herself back into Paige’s waiting arms. 

“I love you,” she whispers into her girlfriend’s, no, her fiance’s ears, “I can’t wait to be your wife.”

Paige’s arms tighten around Azz as she repeats it back, the word wife, evoking a newfound feeling she doesn’t quite know how to put in words. Their families begin to crowd them, until they’re all just a heap of bodies, likely earning some odd looks from passers-by. But it really doesn’t matter. It’s odd to think there had ever been a time when Paige had stood in this same cool Minnesota summer evening breeze and not know what love was, not known who Azzi was. Because this right here, with her fiancé in her arms, and their family all around them, this, she thinks, is the definition of love.

[simpxxstan]

perfect complements (ch. 2)

pairing: professor!seungcheol x professor!f.reader

genre: fluff, enemies to lovers, angst, smut

series summary: four and a half years of working together breeds familiarity, resentment, and everything in between. it's almost like living together.

chapter word count: 2.4k

warnings: bickering.

a/n: i have never been to a therapist/counsellor, so i apologise if there are factual inaccuracies in how the process of counselling goes. the italicized portion is an excerpt from the past, and that's how it'll be indicated in the rest of the story!

thank you so much for reading! your reblogs, likes and comments make my day!

series masterlist

GIF by coupsnim

The walls of the counsellor’s office are painted blue and green- quite contrary to what you had thought would be clinically white and even more depressing. There’s no sign of Seungcheol though, as you sit in the small waiting space outside the office, reading a magazine off the coffee table, your legs shaking nervously.

The man you’re waiting for storms in through the door, his shirt unbuttoned at the top, and his slightly longer hair all fluffy and messy. “Sorry I’m late,” he says to no one, especially not you since he’s averted his glance from you as soon as he entered, and there’s no one else in the space. “Dr. Lee is waiting for us.” You speak softly, trying to level your tone. He takes a minute to brace himself before looking at you, fixing his hair, fixing his crumpled shirt, and breathing in. 

In the past sixteen hours, you’ve thought about this moment a million times at least. It’s been a long time coming, and you know Seungcheol knows it as well as you. Wonwoo has spoken to the two of you multiple times, and yet- things never seem to improve. 

It’s not like you purposely piss him off, well, most of the time. He is a dickhead, but it’s not like you have a lot of free time just to educate him on being a better human in the world. It’s mostly a slip here and there, and the spark blasts. 

It started on a rainy day, in the middle of August. You really didn’t like the rain, to make it worse you’d got your period that morning. You wanted to go home as soon as possible, but all public transport had suddenly disappeared, leaving you stranded in the monsoon on a busy street where no one cared about you, no matter how desperately you called for a taxi. It was just not your day-

But all that had a hope of reversing when you noticed a familiar smile and a wave through a car window, which was right next to you now. “Seungcheol-ssi?” you asked. “Can I give you a ride, Prof Y/L/N?” You started refusing him, hands moving animatedly, but then he gave you a look- oh- and you couldn’t refuse him anymore. “Please. You’ve been standing here for the past twenty minutes,” he said, as you shuffled into his car, trying to not wet the seats but in vain. “You’ve been watching me?” “Uh-” he was nervous now, “no I was just…” “Hey, I really appreciate your offer. I was really having a difficult time. Thank you so much, Seungcheol-ssi.” Three months into his new job, and you both had developed a good relationship, being of nearly the same age. The three other professors in your department were all above fifty, two even due to retire that year, leaving you two as the youngest of the department, and it was a good partnership. You enjoyed talking about the subjects that you had chosen as the first loves of your lives over a cup of coffee, sometimes you would smile at him for a second too long when he would speak of his pet dog Kkuma, sometimes he would return the smile when you spoke fondly about your favourite students. 

The car ride was also just as smooth as the rest of Choi Seungcheol. As much as he was an eye candy, you had decided you were certainly not interested in him, having noticed how well he got along with every female (and most male) faculty members of the university, and his smiles were just not reserved for you. Within weeks, he had students fawning over him, and soon he was becoming the most popular professor in the university, not just among students but also among your colleagues. While you had no fancies for these titles, it felt a little weird losing the good rapport you had worked hard in building, being the only female professor in the department. Or maybe it was just you being too competitive. 

Anyhow, when Seungcheol played the music of your favourite idol group, you couldn’t complain. The depressive mood from the rains had already mellowed out. You raised your eyebrows at him in query, he replied, “What? I’ve seen their photocard behind your phone.” He smiled again, and you smiled back. So attentive. 

Just then, there was a crazy sound from his car. Alarmed, he instantly got out of the car to check- soon there was smoke coming up from the front of the car. You felt guilty sitting in the dry shade of the rain while he lifted the front hood of the car, drenched in the rain, trying to figure out the issue, so you stepped out. “I’m sorry- I really-” “No, hey, why are you apologising to me?” “I don’t know what’s wrong. I think I’ll have to call a mechanic.” You looked around, it was a shockingly deserted area, maybe the rain had washed away all people into their homes. As evening began to descend, your cramps got worse, not improving as the wetness of the rain began settling into your bones. 

“Should we wait inside the car? I’ve called for the mechanic, but they’ll definitely take some time.”

“Sure. I mean, we don’t have an option, do we?” You chuckled, trying to reduce the tension. “I’m sorry I got you stuck in this.” “Nah, it’s okay.” “You can try looking for a cab-” “Do you see a cab out there, Choi Seungcheol?” you snapped out a bit too harshly, recoiling instantly. He was taken aback too, wincing. “Sorry, I just…” Then he grew quiet, and so did you. 

Seconds became minutes. 

Minutes to hours. 

Precisely, two and a quarter hours, before the mechanic arrived. 

Your water bottle was empty, your lunch long finished, the cramps growing worse in the confined space and the anxiety, and Seungcheol wasn’t a close friend who you could become casual around. So you kept your legs down, your heels on, even if your ankles hurt. You kept your hair tied, even if the hair tie began to hurt your scalp, because your hair was too unruly to let down. You couldn’t even take off your jacket, because your body was too cold to let go of even one piece of clothing. 

This was really not your day.

There was no conversation, mainly because you were afraid of snapping again. He stepped out to help the mechanic, and you closed your eyes tight in the car, trying to hold back the pain. Wordlessly, the mechanic left after the issue was fixed, the rain still pouring relentlessly, and Seungcheol came back into the car. 

Thankfully, this time when he tried to start the car, it roared to life. After travelling slowly for fifteen minutes, Seungcheol spoke up, “It’s almost seven- do you want to get some ramyeon before heading home?” You weren’t even looking at him, but you could sense the expectation in his voice. “My treat, to make up for the-”

“I want to go home, Seungcheol.” Your voice was bitterer than you had thought. Seungcheol extended his hand to your arm, and you flinched. “Can you please drive me to my neighbourhood? I don’t want to stay here a minute more.” He took back his hand in a second, and amped up the speed of the car. In less than twenty minutes you were in the front of your home, the address you had input into the Google Maps of the car dashboard earlier. 

Without a word, you stepped out of the car, into the rain that had fizzled down to a drizzle now. Seungcheol was looking at you, and you had no way to avoid his eyes now. “I’m sorry for making your day so bad. Really, if I could make it-” “Bye, Choi Seungcheol-ssi. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And you had turned your back on the man who had drove you home that evening, the hopeful glint in his eyes burning in your head but other feelings like exhaustion, pain and desperation overwhelming you. 

-

“Has anger always been an issue for you?”

Ouch, that was harsh. You had thought counsellors were soft with their words- but then, you’d never been to one’s office before. Seungcheol seemed calmer than before now, honestly that irked you more. Was he actually okay with sitting here? Being reprimanded for how you couldn’t help but behave around each other, at the age of thirty-three?

“I don’t know… I guess I’ve always had a slightly sharp tongue. Quick to lose my temper.”

Seungcheol sighed next to you. You can feel his eyes poring into your face, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. 

“And you, Prof. Choi?” 

“I don’t think so. I think Prof. Y/L/N brings out the worst in me.”

Now you’re looking straight at him, and you know he’s facing you while saying the words. “Excuse me?” 

“Prof. Y/L/N-”

“I’ve never faced issues with my temper before, you know. Yes, some may call me an alpha but-”

A laugh escaped from your lips before you could help it. 

“Prof. Y/L/N, please refrain from scoffing here. Remember the common goal.” Dr. Lee reminded you. 

“I can’t help it, Dr. Lee. It’s blatantly obnoxious for Prof. Choi to think of himself as an alpha. Why, the man’s scared of ghosts! As if ghosts even exist.”

“Prof. Y/L/N-”

“Might I inform you, Dr. Lee, than Prof. Y/L/N has a phobia of thunderstorms. She can’t stand seeing lightning, absoltely shivers like-”

“Professors!”

Again the dreadful feeling of being reprimanded. 

“Laughing at each other’s phobias are petty and not acceptable. This is a safe space. We are all respectful of each other’s fears, irrespective of how they appear to us. We have a common goal of resolution, please be mindful.” Your eyes were cast downward, fingers fiddling with the hem of your dress. “I’m sorry, Dr. Lee.”

There was a sharp intake of air from Choi Seungcheol.

“But I don’t think this can ever reach resolution,” you complete, nearly standing up from your chair. Seungcheol openly scoffs at you now, laughing at your surrender. Exactly what he was pushing you for.

“There, there! No need to rush, Professor. How about, we move on to the first activity I’ve planned for you both?”

You pause, sitting back in your chair. 

“Activity?” Seungcheol asks, running fingers through his hair. 

“Yes! It’s part of my toolkit for couples’ therapy-”

“This isn’t couple’s therapy,” you both chime together. It’s getting annoying how often people think of you as a couple.

Dr. Lee only chuckles, as if they had laid the bait out for you to hold on to, and you both had caught on to it like fishes. You gasp, realising this session may be more complicated than you thought. 

“Of course! Now, have either of you done colouring before? Ever heard of art therapy?”

Seungcheol shakes his head, while you nod. “I colour on my phone sometimes- numbered colouring. Stress relieving, it is for me.” Dr. Lee smiles. “Yes! Except, we’ll not be doing numbered colouring.” They pull out a sheet of paper from underneath their desk, and lay it right in front of you both. 

It’s a beautiful picture of a scene from nature- trees, foliage, flowers, even a river through the grass. But in black and white outline, and more spaces marked in between indicating where to fill in colours. 

Then Dr. Lee brings out a pack of colour pencils, and keeps it beside the sheet of paper. 

“Can I trust you both to fill this in?”

Seungcheol’s jaw actually drops. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him more surprised.

“You want us to fill this with colours? Colour pencils?”

“Yes! It’s really quite simple, and really would be great for healing you through all the stress of work during the day.” Dr. Lee’s smile is genial, but you don’t feel it catching on to you. The thought of colouring this- with Seungcheol- does nothing but add up to your stress. 

“Alright.” Seungcheol is doing it again- pushing you to surrender. He even picks up the sheet and colour pencils and stands up, looking at you expectantly. 

But you’re not going to give up so easily. 

It’s a matter of your pride after all. 

“We’ll bring this to you, all complete and pretty, at our next session!” You’re staring into Seungcheol’s soul, seeing the panic flash momentarily before he dons his standard pretty smile, gums threatening to show. 

“Yes, Dr. Lee!” And for a second, you wonder if this was how he used to suck up to his teachers in school, all cute and excited- but, you forget the thought quickly, as Dr. Lee stands up, a very knowing smile in their eyes, waiting to bid you goodbye. As you both shuffle out of the room, you face Seungcheol outside the office. “Our next session is day after tomorrow. What were you thinking when you promised to complete this, like a little good girl, so eager to please?” he snaps, standing inches away from you. 

“Seungcheol, spare me your nonsense. I’ll take it home today and complete the top half, and you can take it home tomorrow and complete the bottom half.”

“Impossible. I have at least two dozens of projects to go through. I’ll not be coming to work tomorrow. No time for this” he points at the sheet in his hand. 

“Then I’ll just come over tomorrow evening, after your project corrections are done. We can complete it together. Makes the process quicker.” You know you’re stepping into extremely risky territory, but hell, even you didn’t want to go home and colour on a lovely day like this. Wine and jazz sounded much better. 

He seems to ponder over the offer for a second. Then he takes out his right hand from his pocket, and holds it out to you. “Deal,” he says, and you almost scoff at his childish behaviour. Then you shake your right hand with his, and take a step back. 

“See you tomorrow, then.”

“Yeah, my place, at 8?”

“Hmm.”

“I’ll text you the address-”

“I have it already, Prof. Choi.” you say quietly, before turning your back on him and walking away slowly, ignoring his eyes on your back. 

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Armin Navabi

Published: Jan 11, 2014

1. "Science can't explain the complexity and order of life; God must have designed it to be this way."

First, when considering this position, it's important to recognize the difference between complexity and design. Complexity itself does not require an intelligent creator. It's easy to impose a design upon things that exist by chance or developed through a natural process like evolution.

To an extent, this argument gains traction because of wide misunderstanding of science and especially evolution. Everything in the universe conforms to certain simple scientific rules that have been repeated over billions of years. While this can be awe-inspiring, it by no means suggests a creator.

Failure to understand the scientific principles guiding the creation and development of the universe does not mean that a deity must exist to explain the natural world.

-

2. "God's existence is proven by scripture."

This argument presupposes its premise. People believe in scripture and place value in the words because they already believe in the religious principles the text describes. There is no inherent value to the Bible, Quran or any other religious text; these documents are not self-authenticating in any way.

In fact, many factual inaccuracies and inconsistencies can be found within religious texts themselves. For example, the Bible contains two separate creation stories, each of which provides a very different explanation. Similarly, there is no historical, archaeological or scientific evidence to support many of the stories in the Bible and the Quran.

Ultimately, religious texts are infinitely fallible because they are man-made products of whimsy, poetry, mythology and some history woven together into a new whole. The texts in the Bible have been gathered from many oral sources over thousands of years and compiled arbitrarily into a single document; it's hardly surprising that the narrative would be so inconsistent. Other religious texts have similarly convoluted histories.

Aside from the problems with individual texts, there's also the obvious issue that the very presence of multiple scriptures negates the authenticity of any single religious document. It's impossible for every religious book to be true; it's highly presumptuous to assume that one's own preferred scripture is the single "true" scripture while all the others are false accounts. It's far more likely that every religious book is equally fictitious and unreliable.

-

3. "Some unexplained events are miraculous, and these miracles prove the existence of God."

A miracle is typically understood as an extraordinary event or happening that is explained as being the work of a divine agency and having a supernatural origin. However, before miracles can be used as irrefutable proof of God's existence, the cause or origin of so-called miracles must be proven. There is currently no evidence to suggest that miracles truly exist. In reality, there are several underlying explanations behind most miracles, for example:

-- The event is statistically unlikely, and its unlikeliness has caused some people to attribute significance to it. For example, some cultures believe that all-white animals are miraculous or somehow magical. However, science has proven that albinism is a perfectly normal genetic condition that happens to be rarer than other forms of pigmentation. Similarly, a single person surviving a natural disaster is no more miraculous than a single person winning the lottery; it's simply an unlikely random occurrence. -- The event has a scientific cause that is not immediately apparent or understood but is later identified. Many natural phenomena were once viewed as miraculous. After science demonstrated the reason behind previously incomprehensible things, like aurora borealis, earthquakes and hot springs, they stopped seeming like the actions of a mysterious deity. -- The event was inherently meaningless, but meaning and significance was attributed after the fact. In science, hearsay and anecdotal evidence are not sufficient to prove something. Each time a "miracle" occurs, it's easy to see magical thinking, misattribution and other human errors at work. For example, if a child is ill in the hospital, a family member might pray for his recovery. If that child does recover, the praying relative will attribute this to the power of prayer, not to any medical innovations, immunological responses or sheer power of chance.

It's curious to note that the miracles performed by an "all-loving" and benevolent God so often involve sparing a handful of people from a tragic accident, devastating disaster or deadly disease. God is rarely held accountable by believers for all of the deaths that occur when people are not saved by a "miracle." On the whole, the tiny percentage of "miraculous" recoveries would be greater evidence of a deity's arbitrary cruelty than his benevolence, but this is never something believers seem comfortable discussing.

-

4. "Morality stems from God, and without God, we could not be good people."

So-called "moral" behaviors, such as altruism and reciprocity, are not inherently human. In the natural world, they can be observed in a variety of animal species, especially social animals. Science shows that such behavior has an evolutionary benefit: creatures who learn to interact well with their kin will have a stronger likelihood of survival and passing on their genes.

All of this means that, from a scientific viewpoint, morality does not stem from God. Instead, it has its roots in brain chemicals and is supported by strong cultural conditioning. Parents pass their morals along to their children, and individuals take social cues regarding "right" and "wrong" behaviors from friends, family, media influence and more. Religious texts are just an attempt to codify acceptable behaviors into a set of laws. Unfortunately, these rules can quickly become outdated, irrelevant and even painfully arbitrary.

It's fashionable for religious people to claim that atheists are immoral hedonists, but a quick survey of real people shows that to be false. By and large, atheists are no less moral than any other group of people.

-

5. "Belief in God would not be so widespread if God didn’t exist."

This type of claim is called an "argumentum ad populum" or “appeal to the majority,” and it's simply not true. Many beliefs are popular or widely held without being true, and things that are true exist whether anyone believes in them or not.

Alchemy, at one time, was extremely popular and widespread, but few people today would seriously claim that lead could be transmuted into gold. There are similarly few people who still believe that the earth is flat or the center of the universe despite those also being very popular beliefs at one time.

Furthermore, the widespread nature of religion says little about the veracity of any given religious belief. While it's true that many cultures around the world all hold religious beliefs, those beliefs themselves are widely variable and often at odds with each other. When every religion states that it is the one true path to salvation, it by necessity claims that all others are false. If religion were true by virtue of widespread belief, it would certainly make more sense for all people to at least believe the same thing.

-

6. "God answers prayers; therefore, he must be real."

Just as miracles are impossible to prove without resorting to unreliable anecdotes, the power of prayer is certainly not supported by science. Belief in prayer relies on confirmation bias. Essentially, people remember the times that prayer seemed to "work" but conveniently forget the many occasions that they prayed and saw no response or received the opposite result of what they'd wanted. These unwanted results are often ignored completely or rationalized away.

Prayer is a type of magical thinking. Its appeal is undeniable; it feels empowering and makes individuals feel as though they have a measure of control over the world around them. But there is simply no evidence that prayers are anything more than a placebo. And unlike many placebos, prayer can actually be harmful.

The "power of prayer" is one of the most insidious and even harmful beliefs proffered by religion. When faced with any sort of tragedy or misfortune, prayer is one of the least helpful responses imaginable. When tragedy strikes, prayer may make people feel better, but it doesn't actually help the victims.

Donating blood, giving money to the Red Cross or volunteering with a relief organization would all be far more beneficial than praying to the same hypothetical deity who ostensibly caused the disaster in the first place.

-

7. "I feel a personal relationship to God, so I know that he is real."

Such personal testimonies are difficult to refute because they are completely subjective. They're also impossible to prove for the same reason. When individuals report a private revelation or communication with God, it's never about factual information that could be confirmed or denied. These religious experiences are always personal and emotional, which makes them count as nothing more than anecdotal “evidence”.

The human brain has evolved to be particularly sensitive to patterns and causality. It's so effective at this, in fact, that people often see a pattern or purpose in things that are actually random. This is why it's easy to identify objects or faces in the clouds, for example, or why white noise can be interpreted to resemble human speech. This same sensitivity can make random or unrelated events seem like the presence of God, especially if the person experiencing them has a predisposition toward wanting those beliefs to be true.

In other cases, a religious experience can be triggered by any number of outside forces, including drug use or mental illness. Indeed, many people in multiple cultures have experienced similar symptoms but variously attributed them to a variety of different sources, both religious and secular.

-

8. "It's safer to believe in God than be wrong and go to Hell."

This concept, called Pascal's Wager, does not actually support religious beliefs. Instead, it acts as a way to coerce belief out of unwilling participants. The logic goes something like this: if I believe in God and am wrong, then nothing bad will happen. But if I renounce God and am wrong, I will be punished in Hell. There are several problems with this line of reasoning:

-- Religions are inconsistent. In order for Pascal's Wager to work, the believer would need some assurance that believing in God would, in fact, save him from punishment. When multiple religions exist with conflicting messages, however, this is impossible. What if you choose to believe in the wrong God and go to Hell anyway? -- A truly benevolent God would not punish his creations simply because they did not believe in him. God could just as easily reward his creations for being skeptical. Because there is no way to ascertain what a deity's motives might be, there's no way to know that Pascal's Wager would even work. -- If a person believes in God only out of fear of punishment, that belief would be thin and false. Surely an omniscient deity could see through that act and choose to reward only true believers.

-

9. "I have faith; I don't need facts. I just want to believe."

This argument would be perfectly valid if the believer was willing to concede that their God is a social construction or metaphorical concept. Most believers aren't comfortable with that, though, and faith simply does not stand up in the face of scientific scrutiny. Believing in something does not make it true.

Truth is not subjective or democratic. It does not need belief to make it work. Gravity, for example, works the same whether you have faith in it or not. You do not need to choose to believe in gravity because it's an immutable fact of the universe.

Faith is often lauded as a positive quality, but it is, in fact, very intellectually lazy. Faith precludes scientific thinking and the natural wonder of discovery; it stops people from searching for answers to questions about the real world. Faith is little more than the glorification of willful ignorance.

-

10. "There's no evidence that God doesn't exist."

This argument is often offered as a last line of defense in religious debates, and the person posing it might feel very clever coming up with it. However, the premise of the argument is both flawed and ridiculous. The failure to disprove something does not constitute proof of its existence.

The burden of proof is always on the person making a claim, especially in cases where the claims are unsupported or unfalsifiable. With no enduring evidence that a God exists, there is simply no reason to believe in a deity, even if it's not possible to irrefutably disprove his existence.

Many thought experiments have been created to show the absurdity of these claims, such as the Invisible Pink Unicorn, Carl Sagan's "The Dragon in My Garage," Russell's Teapot or the Flying Spaghetti Monster. All of which are absurd claims without evidence and yet impossible to disprove. Familiarizing yourself with these thought experiments can give you a clear picture of exactly why the burden of proof should always be on the person making a claim.

[flowercrowncrip]

not going to ask for your personal experience, because i respect your privacy & dont want any fetishists to be gross to or about you... but do you have any resources on what it's like to be incontinent/need incontinence products written by someone who actually uses them? im writing a character who uses them & i dont want to make any incorrect assumptions or accidentally include anything disrespectful.

i also understand if you simply ignore this ask, i know youve dealt with a lot of disgusting disrespectful people & i dont want to draw them to your blog just by mentioning incontinence. have a wonderful day (& enjoy your comfy chair when it arrives!)

I’m afraid I don’t have any resources to hand. I would recommend looking up different types of incontinence and considering the severity of a person’s incontinence. Having small leaks when you laugh or sneeze will be different experience from having your whole bladder empty completely. And bowel incontinence is different again.

I think sensitivity is important in how incontinence is written about. For me factual inaccuracy is much more forgivable than using incontinence as a shorthand for dependence, or to imply a person has a poor quality of life or is dirty/ unclean. It’s worth remembering that incontinence is part of everyday life for so many people and people often use the products that work for them and barely think twice about it.

My own experiences are below:

I experience what’s usually called “functional incontinence” which is where a person’s bladder is okay, but their disability prevents them from accessing a toilet on time. In my case that’s because of severe mobility impairment and a lack of (well maintained) changing places toilets, but it can also be because someone has cognitive issues which prevent them from being able to get to the toilet on time. When I’m at home I don’t need to use pads because I have quick access to all the equipment I need. But when I leave the house for any length of time I need to wear a pad (technically a nappy I guess but I prefer to call them pads) because when there’s no changing places toilet with working hoist and changing table my bladder will give in eventually. I also experience bowel incontinence if my gastrointestinal disorder is playing up and there’s no toilet I can use on time.

It’s more of an issue for me in the summer when I have to drink more water – even the best most absorbent pads can only hold so much. Using incontinence products means I can stay out more than a couple of hours but don’t mean I can stay out indefinitely unless there’s somewhere private with an adult changing table and hoist. Some people who need pads changing but not hoists might have to resort to lying on the bathroom floor which is pretty unpleasant.

Sitting in used pads for long periods of time isn’t advisable and can lead to moisture lesions, infections, make pressure sores more likely and other issues as well as being not nice. But lack of changing tables for adults mean that it’s a common experience for a lot of disabled people

[librarians-of-babel]

what's the library of babel?

The Library of Babel is an archive of all arrangements of information, recorded in all encoding schema that can be used to represent that information. Examples of resources catalogued within the Library include:

the source code for the Apollo 11 guidance computer

the objectively best chocolate chip cookie recipe

a beam of photons whose frequencies recreate the audio of two humans having a conversation in a Minoan language

a complete history of this universe, presented as a fully accurate H0 scale replica

a list of all lists which do not list themselves as entries

Pounded In The Butt By My Handsome Sentient Library Card Who Seems Otherworldly But In Reality Is Just A Natural Part Of The Priceless Resources Our Library System Provides, by Chuck Tingle

The Library of Babel.

In common usage, "the Library of Babel" refers not to the entire library but to the particular Public Access Catalogue of the Library that has been assigned to this locale; this Public Access Catalogue is an archive of all possible arrangements of information that can be encoded as a book consisting of 410 pages of each consisting of 3200 characters selected from the 26 lowercase characters of the Latin alphabet, the space, the comma, and the period.

"The Library of Babel" may also refer to the short story written by Jorge Luis Borges which has this phrase as its English title. Borges' story portrays the previously mentioned Public Access Catalogue as a physical library consisting of tangible rooms, shelves, and texts. It is remarkably factual in its depiction of the Catalogue's contents, though it does contain a number of key inaccuracies. (Namely, the librarians do not engage in the destruction of library resources or other such superstitions and, due to local standards limiting the compression of information, all indices of the Public Access Catalogue's contents are not considered to be part of the Catalogue itself, and are instead classified as Semi-Limited Special Resources.)

Alternatively, "the Library of Babel" may denote the front-end user interface for the Library's Public Access Catalogue, which was created independently by Jonathan Basile and draws inspiration from the short story written by Borges.

[shesmore-shoebill]

i know we talk a lot about amangela/courtmanda/courtmangelarasha but how do we think can shourtmanda (or even shourtmancer) ‘happen’ in the rpf universe we’ve built into hour minds

OOH interesting. hmmm. okay. my standard "F in rpf is for fiction, none of this is real or intended as speculation about actual people or their relationships, etc" disclaimer.

Also some additional disclaimers- the first is that i actually dont touch shourtney a lot in my rpf worldbuilding or characterizations, partly BECAUSE it's real, and as such has like. Such extensive and documented IRL "history" that I either would prefer to scrap that history entirely (at the cost of "inaccuracy", whatever that means in rpf lol), or I fear I'd start to start edging into something that feels like investigation/speculation territory about the actual relationship/people. Which I don't want to do.

Its a very specific weird distinction i like to keep in my brain with rpf where i dont like verging into writing/speculating/analyzing something that tempts into speculation about a real life relationship. vs like IRL Amanda has a husband so anytime i write without her husband we're already clearly in fake world territory. personal thing for me at least. So i love having Shourtney as background dynamic but havent thought a ton about JUST them in the rpf world. 🧐

Also re: both shayne and spencer, i respect and appreciate them both as people and i vibe with Shayne on a LOT of the takes we see from him. But I Do Not Swing That Way, at least last I checked. Tragically. Not at all opposed to writing/fleshing out characterization about it, or speculating on what it COULD look like in the rpf, etc, but. Everyone be nice about factual inaccuracies or oddities for characterizations/descriptions of attraction on that front, ok. Im doing my best off of incomplete info lmfao.

Anyway, all that said, I think I'd feel most comfortable with a Shourtmanda that starts with either Shaymanda or Courtmanda (again, fully wiping out history). I think Shaymanda starting out could be very fun and compelling. Shayne and Amanda getting close with the podcast is something that has a lot of potential! Amanda as an at-times intimidating figure who Shayne gets to know better; Amanda maybe assuming Shayne doesn't like her much until she gets to know him better. I think anything with Shayne in my rpf characterization has to go like. Respect/friendship first, if that makes sense. I think even if he found her attractive early on it would be like. a low priority thing compared to just trying to get to know her as a person. Amanda in my rpf world, i love but I dont think she would have been attracted AT FIRST- but as she gets to know him better it sort of. takes over. Two people getting to know each other better and uncovering facets they really like and respect....

Amanda makes the first move. Of course. I think it would take that for Shayne to properly consider liking Amanda as even a Thing, even if he thinks she's attractive. But once she acthally expresses attraction/desire to try something out... things get interesting. I think it would be pretty responsible and healthy in general, though. Clear communication probably.

As for Courtney getting looped in, lets see. I think Courtney is close enough with them both that she would be in the loop about feelings before both of them are. Probably from Amanda's side first. It might start as fun jokes between friends but over time.... Amanda maybe worrying about it/coming to Court to get their opinion on like- hey. I actually do really like Shayne. how do i do this without fucking it up. I'd love Shourtney as an established friendship where Shayne and Courtney know each other well and trust each other, but Shaymanda are the ones to take the plunge first- with Courtney aware and even helping. And maybe as things progress, maybe Amanda helps Shayne realize some of his feelings, or Amanda keeps looking at Court but feels guilty about it, and Courtney maybe feels... odd about them getting together even though they helped it happen..... anyway. is the vision here clear. i like this idea.

OR. Courtmanda first. THIS is fun. Communication would not be as clear from the start, because I think similar to all my other Courtmanda AU's. There's already the flirting. There's already the attraction. So much fun potential for them to Not Be Communicating Cleanly and have confusing feelings mixed in. We could have messy FWB Courtmanda with Shayne freaking out bc some of his closest friends are. Making Choices. about each other. OR Courtmanda could take their time getting together, both talk about Shayne, and then poor Shayne experiences both Amanda and Courtney DUAL flirting with him while he panics about disrupting their relationship (they are both aware and fine with the other person's flirting but they maybe forgot to make that clear to Shayne). Courtmanda first with Shayne as a close friend to both Courtney AND Amanda has so much fun potential though. Shayne being protective of Courtney towards Amanda....... many options. very fun.

Shourtney first is easy, in some ways, even if I dont find it as fun to consider. Shourtney first, and then just. Their work wife. its the jokes about work wife and its Courtney flirting with Amanda and Amanda flirting with Shayne and its all fun and jokes till its not. Ill let people who are more Shourtney knowledgable take over that one tho haha.

anyway this is getting kind of long. I'll be honest I don't have particular visions for Spencer in my rpf world so I'll leave that for others. I do love spinning Shaymanda/Shourtmanda in my head though. Very Fun. Much to consider....

[sophieinwonderland]

'some members of the isstd blah blah' oh do you mean multiple PRESIDENTS of the isstd? who boldly promoted and pushed the satanic panic including CURRENTLY? you mean people like colin ross, who still pushes the satanic panic and who believes he can shoot lasers from his eyes and convinced a patient she'd been impregnated by an alien? the multiple presidents who've lost their licenses for conspiracy shit? you mean michael salter who still thinks there were tunnels under the mcmartin preschool? those are tenuous connections in your mind? what do they have to do, put up a neon sign?

So... I'm guessing that you got your opinion of Colin Ross from the Grey Faction, right?

Alright, let's talk about Ross.

Colin Ross has spoken multiple times about how he practices neutrality with his patients. That is, that it's not the responsibility of the doctors to decide whether or not the memories of the patient are factually correct. A therapist is not equipped to do that, and shouldn't need to or be expected to as part of their job.

If you look back at the '90s, you might notice that Ross wrote a book about satanic ritual abuse. And if you only looked at the cover of that book, you might believe that he was pushing this as an actual factual phenomenon. You might surmise from its cover that Ross believed that people were being abused by these massive satanic organizations... And if you came to this conclusion, you would be sorely mistaken.

Here is the opinion of your so-called conspiracy theorist about Satanic ritual abuse from his own book on the subject.

Wow! Such a conspiracy theorist! /s

But in all seriousness, Ross actually presents an incredibly reasonable and nuanced view here.

Many of the memories may have major inaccuracies, or they can be confused with other types of cults. Especially Christian ones.

This is also actually backed up by Michael Salter, who mentions on Twitter that about a third of his ritual abuse patients grew up in Evangelical households and associated Satan with sex.

So it isn't really that the cults are satanic. It's just that the victims associate their sexual abuse with Satanism.

Going back to the case of Ross supposedly convincing a patient that an alien impregnated her...

I can't really comment much about this. To my knowledge, Ross has never confirmed that this took place. So the accusations depend on the witness testimony of somebody whose entire case depends on you believing that she was suggestible enough for a doctor to plant incredibly vivid false memories of extreme events that never happened. If this woman is suggestible enough, one has to wonder what is more likely. That Ross planted memories of her being impregnated by an alien, or that the false memory syndrome foundation attorneys convinced her that conversations happened with Ross that never did?

False memory cases are complicated by the fact that the accusers rely on their own memory being malleable and easily manipulated. Are the memories of somebody who believed that she was impregnated by an alien credible when accusing her doctor of planting those memories, but not when she remembered the incident?

[jessiarts]

"TikTok is literally full of misinformation! We'll be better off if it gets banned!"

Yes, it's true there's misinformation on Tiktok. Just as there's misinformation on every social media, even Tumblr.

I can't tell you how many times I've seen posts on here, specifically, circulating with tens of thousands of notes that were literally full of misinformation, factual inaccuracies, or even flat out lies, that either no one bothers to correct because it scratched their bias itch, or you open the notes to see that anyone trying to correct the misinformation is getting clowned on because people didn't want to hear it. I've even seen posts where the OPs were actually hiding reblogs from people correcting misinformation because it didn't fit the narrative the OP wanted to believe.

You've very likely reblogged posts like that, even if you didn't know it. Hell, just yesterday I found out I reblogged a misinformation post about cool ocean photos. No one is immune. That's why we keep pushing for people to slow down and look into things before taking them at face value and spreading them, especially with more serious things like politics or current events.

We can't act like TikTok is the only social with glaring faults. If you're going to throw stones, make sure you don't live in a glass house first.

Because you know what TikTok also has? Thousands of brilliant educators, activists, artists, and millions of other people sharing their own knowledge, experiences, ideas, cultures, languages, etc- all able to reach people on a scale that other socials haven't been able to compete with.

There's no denying the good that has come from people having access to a platform like TikTok. It's allowed people a place to share information and organize like never before, and it should terrify you that a government wants to ban it.

[tiggymalvern]

I listened to the first episode of the Burn Noticed podcast today, where they talk about the pilot. I largely agree with what they say about it, which sums up to... it's not very good. (In all honesty, if I'd watched this pilot blind, I would not have come back for episode two. The only reason I kept going was because the show had been recced to me by a friend whose taste I largely trust, and he said it was great fun.)

The podcast mentions that the director never directed an episode of Burn Notice again, which is telling. And that he rarely directed more than one episode of any show, which is even more telling 🤣. They mentioned some specific details about the directing which I found interesting, because I know pretty much nothing about it. Directing has basic rules of 'how to shoot scenes' which makes sense - like the rules of grammar, they're there for a reason, and that doesn't mean you never break them, but it does mean that you break them for a specific effect and you'd better know exactly why you're doing it. Which is very different from just having bad grammar...

One of the main reasons the pilot doesn't work for me is that the characters aren't right yet. Michael is close, but still has odd moments, like the puppy dog thing with Lucy, which is a tendency he never shows again. Fiona and Sam, my two favourite characters, are so far off that I actively disliked them. Fiona is reckless to the point of stupidity, casually suggesting they murder FBI agents. Sam is sleazy and gross, openly leering after women half his age who are just walking along the street minding their own business. You can spackle those moments (and I do!) but it would be better if we didn't have to...

The podcast talks about how the Nigerian opening scenes are very poorly explained, and we don't really know what's going on, but I think that was deliberate on Matt Nix's part, and a smart move, honestly. You don't want to alienate any part of a pilot's audience by painting any particular place in a bad light. Michael also says in the pilot that he's not a CIA employee per se (which is later thrown out because he absolutely was) and that makes sense too - whether the CIA are drawn as good guys or bad guys, you're going to piss off one section of society by stating it outright, so they shoved that under the carpet for later.

On the podcast itself, the two presenters are fun and personable, but they ramble. A lot. I hope in the future they get more structured and plan ahead, because they kept starting one conversation, getting sidetracked, and then saying, "Wait, we can come back here later. What were we talking about before?"

They also don't seem to know a lot about Burn Notice 😱The woman admits that she loved it when it aired, but she dipped in and out and never saw the whole thing right through. The man does claim to have seen it all, but obviously not recently, as there are factual inaccuracies. Neither of them know that Sugar is a character who returns in future episodes, in one specific example.

I agree with some of their criteria for deciding what makes a good episode of Burn Notice, but not others. They may adapt as they go on, who knows? As with Burn Notice itself, I'm willing to push past the dodgy pilot and listen to more of this podcast in the hope it gets better. We will see!

[ladyhindsight]

I dont remember if you've talked about this yet, but what are your thoughts on the whole family tree debacle after CHoT came out? It's obvious that CC wasn't originally planning on writing TLH when she made that family tree because it makes no sense now.

I’ve talked about the family tree a couple of times on the blog but never really went into it in detail, because once it became a point of discussion (after I made a comment about it as to Alastair and Thomas’ relationship working out) it was already known to have been an “inaccurate” one at that point. I was told that, essentially, the fake family tree included “fake marriages, secret adoption, people being secretly dead, people being secretly other people, faked deaths, or people marked dead when they became Downworlders/mundanes. Clare said that the Carstairs records were destroyed on purpose & Silent Bros make the family trees. It seems the implication is the family tree is inaccurate b/c Jem is covering stuff up. He has motivation to do this for the Carstairs & Herondales, if not the Lightwoods.” (Most likely refers to this answer given by Clare.)

Then we got The Last Hours (that was over 10 years in the making) and Chain of Thorns that barely made the family tree make any more sense than it did before. It resolved something, at least revealed the inaccuracies of the found one, but also added more to the pile of bullshit that was the whole mess with it.

When complaining about discussing Chain of Thorns, I wrote that Esme Hardcastle “was shoved in there in order to explain the “found family tree”, which at some point, I have no doubt, was how things were supposed to be, until Clare had more ideas for the Edwardian kids. No other characters in whole of TSC have gone through so many changes as these characters have. And as such, to keep the predictability at minimum—which isn’t a lot—the old family tree is made up by Esme, so Clare can spin this tale why it wasn’t accurate. Grace didn’t marry Christopher, Alastair didn’t have children (probably?). Then Clare had all these surprise babies coming because the way she chose to end the story for the Edwardian kids would mean no Emma, no Clary as we know them. So new Carstairs baby, new Fairchild twins.”’

And then she messed up the Lightwoods also. Clare’s insistency on everything including Herondales, Carstairs, Failchilds, Lightwoods, and Blackthorns has always been and always will be the core reason why everything goes to shit. Clare rides on the wings of nostalgia and familiarity with these names every series she writes and is incapable of letting them go and writing a trilogy about some other families. So, some points I’d like to bring up as to this (wholly based on my feelings and observations and are in no way factual but anyway):

THE FAIRCHILD TWINS. Originally (referring to the found family tree that had no reason to go under any change until Clare decided to write The Last Hours) Jocelyn and Clary were either Matthew’s or Charles’ descendants, I don’t remember which one was the assumed ancestor. In Clockwork Princess, the epilogue tells us that when Will was on his deathbed, “Charlotte, white-haired and upright, and the Fairchild sons and daughters with their curling red hair like Henry’s had once been” were present. Which, if Clare would cling to any consistency, would mean the twins should be girls.

Are these daughters ones that existed before or after Clare came up with Matthew’s mistake regarding Charlotte (Before Matthew was said to have golden hair because the epilogue states all of the Fairchild kids have red hair like Henry’s)? Right now it seems that there’s no definite answer which one of the Fairchild children are Jocelyn’s (and thus Clary’s) ancestor. Could be anyone but probably not Charles. Either way it all feels insufficient, because Clare was never interested in the Fairchilds beyond Clary, Jocelyn, Charlotte and now later Matthew. There were no other Fairchilds ever even mentioned, no other Fairchild line that existed beyond Jocelyn’s, no cousins or aunts or uncles or distant relatives. And now that it is ending with Clary eventually becoming Herondale, I feel like Clare is trying to backtrack and keep Charlotte and Henry’s line of Fairchild in existence some way or the other.

(Also already in 2015 Clare teased the connection between Jocelyn’s mother Adele Nightshade and Anselm Nightshade so I guess there is an avenue for that, but nothing to do with the Fairchilds.)

CHRISTOPHER LIGHTWOOD. Clare said on her blog that she knew from the very beginning Kit was going to die, but in Clockwork Princess, the epilogue, reads that “Cecy’s blue-eyed boys, tall and handsome” were present on Will’s deathbed. Mind you, the epilogue is Tessa's counting of events and nothing to do with some shitty family tree that isn't even accurate.

BARBARA LIGHTWOOD. Referring to the same epilogue in Clockwork Princess: “Gideon and Sophie’s two girls” were present on Will’s deathbed, meaning originally Barbara didn't die either. Unless Sophie will also have a surprise baby like Sona and Charlotte.

ALEXANDER LIGHTWOOD (the first one). Recently I noticed that changing Alec and Isabelle’s ancestor from Kit to Alex created a pretty huge problem. Having Alex continue the family line makes absolutely no goddamn sense because he was born 1900 and the next known descendant Isidore that is Isabelle and Alec’s great grandfather was born 1908. (Also are surprised that I mostly listed Lightwoods here, as if they were the least thought about...)

I get that Clare said like 10 years ago (at earliest, when TID finished, I had to go check when this thing actually originated because I honestly didn't know before this) that the family tree is a “found object” and not reliable. But what she wrote previous to this whole things doesn’t align with her earlier plans either and only creates a confusing narrative.

[airyairyaucontraire]

I am reading some contradictory things about Project 2025. This article on vox.com, for example (which is usually pretty good in terms of factual journalism), says that it does not mention no-fault divorce, amongst other things.

It’s full of enough horrible stuff but it appears that some specific claims I’ve read recently are inaccurate. I don’t want to circulate inaccuracies, and I also don’t want to read a 900-page document (I think they’re counting on that to some extent). It’s a bit of a quandary.

None of that changes my concern for my friends and family in the USA or my opposition to Donald Trump, to be clear.

[midhaonna]

[twirling hair] tell me about tartagliatalks and mikaenari and birdxiao

im SO glad you asked

tartagliatalks is my little baby my everything my buzzfeed style journalist childe/dusty musty archon zhongli brainchild. childe writes silly little antagonistic articles with clickbait titles slandering liyue (he has a real hatred for liyue, for some reason, which zhongli is continuously furious about and intrigued by) and he has a whole wider social media presence outside of that. zhongli comments on his articles like the fanboy that he is, and like the archon that he (as far as everyone else knows) wasn't. here's a little snippet of childe's articles and zhongli's comments!

Tartaglia Talks: Why the last Cryo Archon, The Tsaritsa of Snezhnaya, was the BEST Archon! 

ZhongLiyue: Tartaglia, while I appreciate that this article is a love letter to your homeland (and I am sure Snezhnaya is a most wonderful nation), I must affirm on this occasion that your opinion is incorrect. Please revise. 

tartagliatalks: ZhongLiyue, I am ever grateful for your continued support of my work. May the Tsaritsa grant you blessings and a sense of humour. 

Tartaglia Talks: Infinite Mora!? Fifteen inaccuracies about the Archon Morax, and why he wasn’t actually THAT cool!

ZhongLiyue: Tartaglia, I regret to report that none of the ‘facts’ in this article are, in fact, factual. The Archon Morax is well known for his contribution to trade and commerce across Teyvat. The most famous example of this may be his ability to create Mora from his bare hands; this is an entirely accurate detail (see: The Creation of The Golden House and the subsequent sister article The Fatui, and Their Role in the Destruction of the Common Mint.) While I sympathise with your clearly tight budget, I would implore you to employ a historian or fact-checker of some kind. If it would be of interest to you, I would be eager to offer my services, of course provided the terms of the contract are agreeable. 

tartagliatalks: ZhongLiyue, thank you again for your continued support. I find myself in the rather unusual position of mourning that the Archon Morax does not live today, for if he were able to supply you with infinite Mora, perhaps you would not find it necessary to use my article as a job application. 

next is MiKaeNari, which is a sweet little established MiKaeya au in which Mika suddenly (for a variety of possible reasons which im yet to fully decide) grows ears and a tail, and Kaeya (who cries when Mika gets so much as a papercut) immediately enlists Albedo to help with the pain and general support for Mika. Albedo directs them to Tighnari, so the two embark on the journey to Avidya Forest to meet the man who they HOPE will be able to help Mika. And, well. It gets a little filthy from there, I can't lie. It's a very sweet relationship but also I can't overstate how important mommy-tighnari with his sweet voice and soft hands are to Mika and also to me, and Tighnari lets Mika sit in his lap and massages the ache out from where the growing pains are really setting in. Kaeya will do anything to make Mika comfortable, so maybe he occasionally suggests that they kiss, or that Tighnari touches Mika, etc. lots of fluff but lots of opprtunities for porn and Mika body worship. i started writing this before Mika's release, lol .

Even with his ears pressed flat to his head, Mika hears the sharp, piercing sound of glass shattering followed by Sucrose’s despairing moan. They’re rooms away from each other, but Mika almost feels the blush that no doubt rushes over her face. 

Albedo heaves a great sigh and pauses his questioning abruptly, offering Mika a quick, terse apology before leaving the room. The next few minutes are silent, save for Kaeya’s pounding heartbeat and Albedo’s quiet assurances to Sucrose that smashing an empty vial is of no consequence to their tests. 

Mika feels rather a lot like the smashed vial. Every one of his bones seems to ache as though splintered, every inch of his skin fizzing and popping with each tiny movement. 

“Alright, Mika?” 

Kaeya does not often ask if Mika is alright, usually only tells him that he is alright, as though he was never taught to comfort instead of assert. The finality of Kaeya’s attitude, how it makes everything feel so sure and complete, is usually of great comfort to Mika. So he does not quite know how to answer Kaeya. 

Inarticulate and lacking energy, Mika only burrows further into Kaeya’s chest. He’s warm but never too warm, and Mika loses the last wisps of lucidity in the prosaic scent of Kaeya’s fear. 

He sleeps for quite some time. Kaeya must have tended to him in his sleep, changed him into smallclothes that are significantly less sweat-soaked, and his face is no longer caked in dried tear tracks or snot. The wash basin on the side table is still warm, though the water in it is murky, and Mika’s hands tingle with the remnants of Kaeya’s presence focused on the centre of his palm. 

and finally zhongchibirdxiao which is sooooo sweet and also a lovechild of ry and i's brains. its basically little bird xiao accompanying childe and zhongli on their excursions (dates) and being VERY suspicious of childe, and VERY possessive of zhongli. childe doesn't know who the bird is, or that it's anything other than a strangely intimidating finch, but zhongli is familiar with xiaos form and knows immediately. there are so many concepts for this little universe that are yet to be written, but as the whole thing was based on a tumblr post, lol, i will share a snippet of that relevant section, which happens to be their first meeting with xiao in his finch form :3

A bird lands delicately on Zhongli’s arm. It pecks at his jacket gently, and waits patiently for Zhongli to turn his attention to it.

“Oh, my archon…what a sweet little bird.” Childe coos in Snezhnayan, his voice higher than usual before he switches back to common Teyvatian, “Oh, he’s such a sweet little guy, I think he loves you, Zhongli.” He gasps excitedly, because the bird - a finch, perhaps? - appears to preen under Zhongli’s attention, puffing its little chest out and fluttering its wings contentedly. 

Zhongli pets the little bird with great care. 

“I love him – please, Zhongli, tell him that I love him in Liyuen.” 

With a small chuckle, the words are relayed to the bird in Old Liyuen, and Childe takes a moment to enjoy the sweet look on Zhongli’s face. 

The bird steps forward a little on Zhongli’s arm, steadied by a firm hand held out in front of him, and watches Childe for a moment. It feels like a glare, and Childe pouts at how such a sweet little bird could turn such an angry attitude on him. 

Zhongli talks for a little longer than Childe thinks is quite necessary to simply relay Childe’s love, and when he finishes the bird looks back at Zhongli, chirps a quick, short response, then promptly flies away. 

“Heh,” Zhongli scratches the back of his neck, uncharacteristically bashful, “He said ‘go back to Snezhnaya, Fatui scum.’”

[bereft-of-frogs]

I had a dream I got several extremely long negative comments picking apart all the factual inaccuracies in my currently posting fic and also complaining that it didn’t follow the plot of 10 Things I Hate About You closely enough. Which???? Not intended to be inspired by that, I don’t think I’ve seen that movie in 15 years lol

There was also a whole thing about work and my car getting towed and a head of cabbage on my desk and taking a train on a boat but that’s a whole other thing

[eowyntheavenger]

Time to complain!

I needed to write a new paper this week with a quick turnaround, and the editing process was absolutely AWFUL. This editor has given me trouble before—he adds multiple grammatical errors to my pieces every time he edits them! He has one job! And he is terrible at it!

But this was somehow worse. He did, as always, add multiple errors to the paper, which I then had to fix. He also rewrote my title to something so bad that I was actually worried it would damage my reputation. I told him I was not comfortable with the title, because it sent the wrong message and misrepresented what I was saying in the article, but he refused to change it. He told me that titles “don’t need nuance” and that I was overthinking.

He published it with that title. My coauthor saw it and obviously hated it, so he ALSO asked the editor to change it. The editor still refused. Then my coauthor asked him to take the piece down until we could figure it out. The editor still refused.

Finally the editor takes the article offline at 6pm. Me and my coauthor think okay, good, we’ll sort this out in the morning during regular work hours. We didn’t communicate with the editor anymore—we thought we should let everybody cool down.

Then at 9pm (the same day) the editor sends us an email saying he’s made the change back to my original title and put it back online—but he launches into this whole thing about how our articles are “underperforming,” our concerns about reputational damage are overblown, and only he can “increase our engagement” by putting “catchy” (read: NY Post style, clickbaity) headlines on our articles, which again he claims have “underperformed.” It was way past passive aggressive—it was just aggressive and insulting.

I’m so mad. I mean, we got the title changed, so in that sense we “won” here. But I still have to work with this guy in the future, and he’s clearly willing to burn bridges and insult me and my colleagues over a disagreement. My supervisor was on the cc line of his email!

Also, reality check. One of my articles was among the top 15 most-read pieces that my employer published during the ENTIRETY of last year. So, underperforming? Meanwhile this guy can’t even catch his own typos. He posted a photo and caption along with the article, and the caption had a misspelling AND a factual inaccuracy in it. I had to email him AGAIN asking to fix them. The positives here: I like my coauthor and I appreciate him standing up for us, which was better than if I’d had to do it by myself. And after our article came back online with the title we wanted, we got really good feedback from other experts. The same day, I received an email from the editor-in-chief of a very reputable publication asking me to write an article for them.

At least later today I’m catching up with one of my best friends, which is always fun and cheers me up. And next week I’m seeing two other friends who live on the other side of the world but are visiting my area, so I’m looking forward to that.

I’m just so! pissed! off!!!!!!!!!!

[shinsengumi-archives]

My thoughts about ChatGPT after asking it about the Shinsengumi

I’ve been playing around with ChatGPT and asked it questions about the Shinsengumi to see how good it is when it comes to very niche topics.

I’m both very impressed and very worried about the results. It didn’t have problems understanding my questions and the writing is definitely human-like. On the other hand, the content itself is sometimes decent but rudimentary, but sometimes factually incorrect or misleading.

It’s usually (but not always) good for giving a brief introduction to various topics, but shouldn’t be trusted when it comes to the details. 

As it is, it’s not that useful for learning about the Shinsengumi beyond the basics, and that’s probably also the case for other topics.

Here are some answers I got from it:

Who were the Shinsengumi?

The Shinsengumi were a special police force in Japan during the late Edo period (1603-1867) and the early Meiji era (1868-1912). They were established to maintain order in Kyoto during a time of political and social upheaval. The Shinsengumi were known for their distinctive uniform, which consisted of a long haori coat, hakama pants, and a chonmage hairstyle. They were also famous for their strict code of ethics, which emphasized loyalty, bravery, and honor. The Shinsengumi played a significant role in Japan's transition from the Edo period to the Meiji era, and their legacy continues to be remembered and celebrated in Japanese history and culture.

It could answer this basic question without problems. This is an acceptable description of the Shinsengumi, but reading Wikipedia would be more useful. One inaccuracy is that the Shinsengumi’s strict code of ethics was actually fictional.

Who was Okita Souji?

Okita Souji was a prominent member of the Shinsengumi, a special police force in Japan during the late Edo period (1603-1867) and the early Meiji era (1868-1912). He was born in 1842 and was considered one of the most skilled swordsmen in the Shinsengumi. Okita Souji was also known for his good looks and friendly personality, which made him a popular member of the group. Despite his youth, he held a high rank in the Shinsengumi and played an important role in its operations. He was also known for his devotion to the Shinsengumi's cause and for his loyalty to his fellow members. Unfortunately, Okita Souji suffered from tuberculosis and died at the young age of 26. Despite his brief life, he remains a well-known figure in Japanese history and culture.

It’s also pretty good, with one minor problem. We’re actually not sure which year Okita was born. It could be either 1842 or 1844, but the answer doesn’t mention this ambiguity.

If I ask something more detailed:

What was Okita Souji's childhood like?

There is limited information available about Okita Souji's childhood. He was born in Edo (modern-day Tokyo) in 1842 and was the first son of a lower-ranked samurai family. He was trained in the traditional martial arts of the samurai from a young age, and was known for his exceptional swordsmanship even as a child. At the age of 13, he was diagnosed with tuberculosis, a condition that would ultimately shorten his life. Despite his illness, Okita continued to be highly active in the martial arts and joined the Shinsengumi when he was in his early 20s.

Given the limited information available, it is difficult to say more about Okita's childhood. However, it is clear that he was raised in a traditional samurai family and received a solid education in the martial arts and other aspects of samurai culture. Despite his illness, he went on to become one of the most skilled and respected members of the Shinsengumi.

The answer becomes incorrect. Okita was not diagnosed with tuberculosis at age 13. We don’t know his exact age when he was diagnosed, but it couldn’t have been before he went to Kyoto and it was likely only a year or couple of years before his death. Despite sounding like a well-written answer, it contains blatant falsehoods. I wonder where the algorithm got this incorrect information. (It says it gets its information from books, websites, social media, etc. but I doubt there would be many sources that say Okita caught TB at 13. ChatGPT should crosscheck its information instead of taking a single unreliable source as fact)

Here’s another example of an incorrect answer:

Where can I read Nagakura Shinpachi’s memoirs about Shinsengumi?

Nagakura Shinpachi, a former member of the Shinsengumi, did not leave behind any known memoirs or personal accounts of his time in the group. The majority of what is known about the Shinsengumi comes from historical records, government documents, and accounts written by others who were part of the group or who were contemporary with the events. Some books and documentaries about the Shinsengumi also provide insights into the group and the individuals who were part of it, including Nagakura Shinpachi. You may want to check online resources or libraries for books or materials that focus on the history and legacy of the Shinsengumi.

This is false. Nagakura did have a memoir. If ChatGPT doesn’t know about it, it should say it doesn’t know rather than give an answer with such certainty that it doesn’t exist.

To be honest, if ChatGPT was a person, I would seriously dislike him. Talking to it sometimes feels like talking to one of those guys who think they’re highly intelligent but don’t actually know that much, but know how to say things in a way that makes them sound smart despite being completely incorrect. Mansplaining, basically...

Its knowledge is quite limited:

Who was Okita Mitsu?

I couldn't find any relevant information regarding a person named "Okita Mitsu." It's possible that you may have misspelled the name or that this person is not well known or documented. Could you please provide more context or clarify the question?

It doesn’t know about Okita’s sister Mitsu... even though she has a Wikipedia page.

When I ask some opinion-based or speculative questions, the answers are reasonable even if not very deep:

Who was the strongest swordsman in the Shinsengumi?

It is difficult to determine who was the strongest swordsman in the Shinsengumi, as the members of the group were highly skilled and trained warriors. However, some of the most prominent and well-known members of the Shinsengumi were considered to be highly skilled swordsmen. Some of these include Okita Souji, Kondou Isami, Hijikata Toshizou, and Saitou Hajime, among others. Each of these individuals was known for their mastery of the sword and their bravery in combat. However, due to the nature of the Shinsengumi's operations, it is difficult to determine a single person who was the "strongest" swordsman in the group.

There’s nothing wrong with this answer (even though it forgot to mention Nagakura who was usually considered as strong as Okita and Saito), but if this was by a human, I would find it kind of boring. Where’s the analysis on their areas of strength and weakness, the anecdotes, or the quotes from people who knew them describing their swordfighting style? It looks like AI still has a long way to go before it could replace writers 😅

Even for these subjective questions with no right or wrong answers, sometimes it still doesn’t seem correct to me:

If Okita never caught tuberculosis and survived to the Meiji Era, what occupation would he have?

It is impossible to say for certain what occupation Okita Souji would have held if he had not contracted tuberculosis and survived into the Meiji era. However, given his position and reputation as a highly skilled swordsman and a prominent member of the Shinsengumi, it is possible that he would have continued to play a role in the development and security of the new government. It's also possible that he would have pursued a career in the military, as many former Shinsengumi members went on to serve in the Imperial Japanese Army. However, without more information about Okita's personal interests and ambitions, it is impossible to say for certain what occupation he would have chosen.

I highly doubt that Okita would ever work for the people who killed Kondo. Saito did end up working for the new government, but unlike Okita, he probably didn’t have a strong personal attachment to Kondo like Okita did. And Okita just doesn’t come across as someone who is career-oriented or ambitious about making an impact on the country, but that’s just my own impression.

This shows that AI is not yet capable of thinking from an individual human’s perspective and could only make generalizations 😅

Despite my criticisms, the answers are better than I expected, but there’s something that’s been bothering me. It’s hard to put my finger on exactly why, but it might be the tone or aspects that get focused on that make it sound like it’s written by someone who buys into the popular notion that samurai were honorable warriors who lived by a strict code of “death over dishonor”, rather than ordinary (but privileged) humans living mundane lives.

So I tried another experiment:

What is the bushido code?

Bushido, also known as the "way of the warrior," is a set of principles that defined the moral code of the samurai class in Japan. The code is thought to have originated in the 12th century and was later formalized in the 17th century. The core values of bushido include loyalty, courage, honesty, and self-discipline. These values were considered essential for the samurai, who were expected to live and die by their code.

In addition to these core values, bushido also emphasized the importance of physical skill, particularly in the use of weapons such as the sword. The samurai were expected to be masters of martial arts and to be able to defend their lord and the honor of their clan at all times. The code also stressed the importance of personal development, both physical and spiritual, and the need for the samurai to continuously strive for self-improvement.

Bushido remained the dominant code of conduct for the samurai class throughout the Edo period and into the Meiji era, although its influence declined as the samurai class lost its political power and military role. Nevertheless, the values of bushido continue to be influential in Japanese culture, and the code is still widely studied and admired as a model of samurai ethics and morality.

Does it not know that bushido is the way of total bullshit? It wasn’t some well-defined code that samurai actually followed. It only became popular in the 20th century with the rise of fascism.

I asked for further clarification:

Is the bushido code bullshit?

As a language model, I don't have personal opinions or beliefs, but the concept of the bushido code is a subject of debate and interpretation among historians and scholars. Some argue that bushido was a genuine code of ethics followed by the samurai class, while others see it as a more recent invention that was used to promote the interests of the samurai and the Japanese state.

It is true that the concept of bushido was formalized and codified relatively late in Japanese history, in the 17th century, and that its origins are somewhat murky. Some historians believe that it was developed as a way of promoting unity and loyalty among the samurai class, while others see it as a response to the changing political and cultural circumstances of the time.

Regardless of its origin, however, the concept of bushido became an important part of Japanese cultural identity and continues to be widely recognized and admired today, both within Japan and around the world. Whether or not one considers it to be a genuine code of ethics or a more recent invention, it is clear that bushido has had a significant impact on Japanese culture and continues to be an important part of the country's cultural heritage.

So it does know (although I’m still skeptical about “bushido was formalized and codified...in the 17th century”). Why didn’t it give this more balanced answer for the initial question? It wasn’t because it didn’t have that information.

It’s true ChatGPT doesn’t have its own opinions or beliefs. The answers are generated based on an aggregate of the content available on the internet that it uses as training data. So instead of having its own sentient mind, AI is really just a reflection of ourselves as a society. I don’t really like some of the things I see 😅

As a software engineer, I’m worried that if we train AI with data from the internet without enough quality checks, it will end up with a skewed worldview or problematic biases, and I’m worried that people will start using ChatGPT or similar tools to learn about a subject without doing deeper research and ending up with that same inaccurate understanding of the world.

For example, someone might want to learn more about bushido, so they ask the first question “What is the bushido code?” and without realizing it, they would only learn from a portrayal that’s in line with fascist propaganda. Or it might confirm their existing views and make them less open to having it challenged. They would be unlikely to ask the second question to get the full picture.

From a linguistic standpoint, the writing from ChatGPT is impressive. Everything is grammatically correct and it doesn’t sound like its written by a machine, but that means it has a even greater responsibility to provide information that’s accurate and unbiased. If the answers were clunky and clearly machine-generated, it wouldn’t matter too much if the information is inaccurate, because people could tell it’s not working properly. But when something is written well, people will often mistake it for being correct. When it comes to misinformation, there’s nothing more dangerous than something well-written and wrong.

It’s meant to be a research project that’s still under development, but people are already using it and it’s already making an impact on society. ChatGPT does show a disclaimer in the beginning to warn users about inaccuracies, but this would only prevent legal liabilities. It won’t prevent many users from taking answers as fact. Once this tool becomes more widespread, that could cause problems.

I hope the researchers working on chatbots would focus on improving the quality of the output—less on generating well-formed sentences and more on the actual information that it’s providing, because it could end up spreading harmful misinformation when the former is more developed than the latter.

Most importantly, ChatGPT and similar chatbots need to become better at saying “I don’t know”. This is a skill that everyone should have, whether they’re AI or human—the ability to realize and admit that they don’t know. Chatbots should have more quality constraints on the information it uses and crosscheck its facts between more sources. When something is uncertain, it should indicate that it couldn’t say for sure or couldn’t find the information, rather than present wrong statements as if it was definite fact. Even if this would lower its coverage or make it sound less knowledgeable, it would make it more trustworthy, because as it is right now, I couldn’t rely on it to give me truthful information.

At the very least, ChatGPT is a useful translation tool, even if it couldn’t write a detailed and insightful opinion essay or answer questions beyond the basics. I’m cautiously eager to see how this will develop.