#Which I guess is more reasons why I should do it...

[adrianastrix]

Another thing I'll add here is something that I was coincidentally discussing with a friend yesterday: this kind of issue can only be solved if our science education (and I'm talking BOTH Natural Sciences and Humanities) doesn't rely on teachers being simply a source of "correct" information.

I put "correct" in quotes because guys. GUYS. I was in a comitee for quality control of kids science textbooks (ages 11-14), and Jesus Christ. It was a book written in the Year of Our Lord 2022 and it had a SLUR as an "alternative name" to Down Syndrome. Not to mention information that was BLATANT WRONG when you as much as googled the legal definition of a certain thing, and much much more. We obviously bombed it, but there's the kicker: the only thing our ban ensured is that this textbook collection is out of question for Brazilian public schools. Private schools can use it, if they want to.

Which means that even schools can and, as much as we try, will spread misinformation, even if it's in a small scale. The teacher in the Twitter thread very astutely identified it as a crisis of authority. If education is just a matter of relaying "correct facts", it all comes down to a matter of authority. And the poor teacher feels hopeless because she can't even say, in good faith, that her word is inherently better than ChatGPT or Wikipedia or TikTok because, guess what, she could be wrong. There's no such thing as infallible authority.

There's only one solution, one that Education Scientists (which ARE a thing, I'm one of them!) have been saying since, I dunno, THE 18TH CENTURY: giving kids an education centered in DOING science, not memorizing its products. The teacher started amazingly by asking the kid to "look it up" in front of her. But what she COULD have done, if prepared for this kind of challenge (I obviously don't fault her for freezing when confronted by something for the first time) was to ask for the notebook or cellphone and show the student what she meant by "look it up" and how the results vary. And tell him that NO single source should be trusted, either her or ChatGPT, and when sources disagree, what should be the tiebreaker?

In other words, the only antidote is showing the kids HOW science is done, HOW you arrive at conclusions, and HOW documental research is done. Science isn't something that Very Smart Geniuses do in their ivory towers to create The Truth. It's science, not a sacred religious ministery. Science is mundane, messy, controversial, and everyone* can do it with a bit of training, just like everyone* can cook or sing or draw with the proper training. [*"everyone", of course, being a rethorical generalization; obviously there are circunstances in which people might NOT be able to do it, or might need especialized assistance that others don't need, but those are the exceptions, not the rule.]

The main reason why our education is stuck in memorization and trying to out-authority the internet has a name: Standard Testing.

It's LEAGUES easier to test for how many facts someone can spew exclusively from memory (you just need a multiple choice test that can be graded by a machine) than it is to test students for their ability of create, research and communicate knowledge (the current optimal way to do it is the whole process of writing a monography/dissertation/thesis).

The whole EVALUATION system holds us down WAY more than the teaching methods themselves, because when you are teaching scientific abilities, you WON'T be sparing time to ensure that all your students are commiting definitions and formulas to mind. At the VERY least, tests should allow students to search for the info they need: this alone already demonstrate that student's ability to research, compare and choose correct information.

The idea that you can compare kids by a test that quantifies the amount of information they have on their heads, and that once they perform well on a test, that info is certified as correct and true is RIDICULOUS. Information on the brain degrades with time, unless you need it constantly. And people who grade tests are human, humans can be wrong. The accepted answer in a test can be wrong.

But we have to maintain the illusion that we can OBJECTIVELY rank students, schools, school systems and nations on how much knowledge they have. Otherwise, how investors will be reassured that they are "top quality"? How private education businesses can boast that they are "the best", thus justifying their price tag? How international banks will "ensure" that the amount of money countries are investing in education are being "correctly spent" (instead of being used to repay them)?

Soooo... ChatGPT is only the tip of the iceberg. There ARE ways for us to solve that problem, there HAS been ways for it since the 18th FREAKING century. But as long as they don't make the money people happy, as long as we expect school knowledge to take the form of a standard list of memorized correct info, we will still be ineffectively fighting the robots.

[xetlynn]

Can I ask for claggor x a piltover reader? She was raised in piltover and is very smart but was never ignorant to the condition of zaun and always tried her best to advocate and help the suffering people. I can imagine she would have a strong sense of guilt for loving claggor because she doesn't really understand the struggles he went through but will always try to help. <33 thank youuuu

Of course, I think I made this a little more dramatic than I meant to😭 but I hope this is good!

Arcane Imagines- Claggor

Mysterious

[arcane] [main page]

Prompt: In which reader is from Piltover and makes a friend in Zaun. Feeling guilty for liking him since she doesn't understand his struggles.

My feet achingly moved seemingly before me. My back hurt as I carried a box full of stuff from Piltover to give to a friend in the undercity.

When I was younger I was so fascinated by the people of Zaun. About the difficulties they’ve been through. My mother was always bitter about them. Going on tangents about how the people from the undercity should be more grateful since everything is better now. And whenever she does that I have to remind her of their struggles to get to this wonderful position they’ve been creating for themselves. Supporting them only pisses her off further than before. She asks what about Piltover’s struggles which is never the point of my argument. 

We’re privileged enough to never know what it’s like going without food, running water and a roof being over our heads. Most of Zaun could or still to this day can not say the same. It’s something I’ve written about in school essays, joining groups to learn more about the undercity. 

As a younger teen I snuck into Zaun, wanting to understand them better, know them rather than read about their history. Hear it from the people themselves. I won’t truly ever know their struggles but I still wish to help them. Advocate for their history and their growth as a community. Help them be one with Piltover eventually without there being discourse of if they deserve it. 

Everyone deserves happiness, love, and a life without ridiculous danger. They deserve peace as much as the next person.

I was reckless when going to Zaun. Sneaking out of my house as a teen and somehow to the undercity without being caught will forever blow my mind. The reason I kept doing it though was after I sat down in this bar. It’s called The Last Drop. I just needed a place to rest after walking for miles. 

Talking with the people there. Not really a scene a young teenager should be in but I didn’t care. I just wanted to listen to their stories. And they always enjoyed having me around. Seeing me as a niece of some sort.  Hearing the first one made me want to hear more. Hence why I kept coming back. And more recently there's a new reason.

I met a new friend. His name I still don’t know. He never properly introduced himself to me. Not by his birth given name but by the first letter. He wanted me to guess. 

It’s been 3 months and he has yet to tell me what it is. Or in his words I didn't guess good enough.

I guess his father was the owner, Vander is his name. I’ve met him a few times but I never sat up at the actual bar. Just in a corner keeping to myself before I went to adventure out into Zaun after hearing random stories.

When I met C he had started working more hours at the bar to help out since it was getting busier and busier after some time with people from the Uppercity decided the place was a hit. I guess he worked earlier shifts so that’s why we never crossed paths when I first started going there. 

C and I hit it off slowly in the beginning.  

It was a rough start since we both had different upcomings. I didn’t know what it was like to have to get my hands dirty and work for things I want or need. I’ve always just… had it. 

Talking about C’s childhood and things he went through as I had nothing bad to say except for the fact that my mother is a witch of a woman. It made me realize how weird I am for being so interested in others' lives. It made me realize I don’t have a life of my own. I want to fix people who don’t need to be fixed. They’re perfect the way they are, no matter what they went through. They don’t need me to stick up for them. I also figured out that I’m falling for a friend, who again… I don’t know the name of and we will never share a similar story. He deserves someone who understands the same livelihood he knows. Someone who can appreciate things more than I ever could.

“[Name]!” A voice shouts, shaking me from my thoughts. “C!” I grin, shimmying the box in my hands. “Is this everything?” He takes it from me with furrowed eyebrows, looking it over. “Mhm, every single thing you asked for.” I place my hands on the back of my hips, stretching to crack my back. Letting out a small sigh of relief afterwards. 

“You alright?” He asks with a chuckle, leading me into his apartment that he and his brother share. “Yeah, I definitely got my exercise in for the day.” I half-heartedly joke, shutting the door behind us and he places the box down on the counter. “What is the food for, exactly?”

When he first requested the stuff from me, he told me it was for an experiment. Not really saying much after that. A few foods and then things you can really only get in Topside. 

“To eat.” He grabs an apple and bites into it. My shoulders fall, not expecting that answer. For some reason I thought it was going to be something cooler. “Oh.” I let out a breathy laugh. “I was hungry when I was putting in that request.” He rubs his stomach sadly. 

I shake my head with a smile. “It’s okay. So can I know what this project is now?” I hop up on the barstool in his kitchen. “It’s a secret.” He says briefly, putting the food away in his counters. I frown. “Dang, keeping another thing from me, C?” I tilt my head. 

“Gotta keep you on your toes, by being a mysterious, interesting man. Don’t want you getting sick of me.” He quipped, now giving me his full attention after placing the box on the ground. I glanced down at it then back to him. “I’ll always find you interesting. Maybe even more if you just tell me your name.” I pout.

Have I mentioned that I don’t know his name? No? Yeah, don’t know it. 

“Soon.” He reaches over and messes up my hair. I smack his hand away. Attempting to fix what he did. “I hope so.” I cross my arms. 

“I wish you could guess it. You didn’t even try hard enough.” He exclaims, my jaw drops at his words. “I can’t think of anything else! It has to be some sort of crazy unique name!” I utter, throwing my hands in the air. He lets out a belly laugh, “It’s not super unique.” He shrugs his shoulders. 

“Whatever.” I roll my eyes, jokingly annoyed. “I told you my name.” I murmur. “That’s because you’re not mysterious like me.” He purses out his lips, doing a little peace sign. “I know almost everything else about you. You are not mysterious.” I point a finger at his chest. “Really? What’s my favorite color?” 

“You tell people it’s blue but it’s actually yellow. Like dandelion yellow.” I raise my brows, making a face that expresses that he should try me. “Okay, pssh, lucky guess. Favorite food?” 

“Halibut, but only when it’s fried because you’re weird.” I tease, his eyes seem to widen at my words. “See, not so mysterious, huh?” I cross my arms. “Two things. That’s all you answered.” He walks away over to the living room. Plopping down on the couch. I stand up, rushing over to him. Bouncing on the cushion beside him. My hands holding his shoulder as I shake him. “Then ask more questions. I have the answers~” I sang out, leaning back. 

“Fine, how old am I?” He raises a brow. I put a finger on my chin, pretending like I was thinking. “21.” I simply say. “Okay, I never told you that. How’d you get that?” He scrunches his nose in confusement. I laugh. “Honestly I truly guessed that time. I’m 21 and I always figured we were the same age.” I snicker. 

“Wow, okay. Next question, how many siblings do I have?” I think back to conversations we’ve had or the time I bumped into his brother Mylo. He always talks about a girl named Powder. I want to say there’s one more though. I just can’t remember…

“... three?” I estimate. “Or two.” I perk up my posture. “Hm, it’s three. You really do listen.” He hums out. “Yeah, it’s Mylo, Powder and I’m sorry but I don’t think I ever got the last one’s name.” I press my lips together, trying to rack it in my head. “Violet. She passed away when we were younger.” He sighs, I look at him through my eyelashes not wanting to make full eye contact as my heart drops.. 

“I’m sorry.” I whisper. “It’s alright, [Name]. You didn’t know.” He gives me a smile. It goes silent between the both of us. “Um… can I ask how? If not I totally understand. I don’t want to push that topic.” I shake my hands at the thought of forcing him to say something he wasn’t comfortable with.

“We were doing a stupid thing in Piltover. Sneaking into someone’s house. Just trying to get a few things for our dad. Extra money in his pocket. Something exploded. The impact unfortunately killed Vi.” He seems spaced out as he tells the story. I reach out and grab his hand.

I remember when that incident happened. It was all anyone talked about for a while. An undercity child passes away in an explosion after breaking into a scientist’s home. My mom… was an ass about the situation. 

“Any more questions?” I make an effort to switch the conversation so he doesn’t get upset due to my questioning of his sister's death like the dumb idiot that I am.

He looks down at my hand that was on top of his. “Claggor.” He suddenly says. I scrunch my eyebrows together. “Claggor?” I question, was that something I had to answer? “My name.” He mutters out. 

My mouth goes into the shape of an 'o.' Claggor... An interesting name for an interesting man like him.

“Hm… cute. It fits you.” I squeeze his hand before letting go. I didn’t even notice the dusty rose color across his cheeks. He mutters out a small thanks before we continue the conversation of me knowing certain things about him.

The entire time I think back to his sister, my chest aching. They were only kids trying to help their father. Not knowing that one of them wasn’t going to make it back home. How devastating. 

“You okay, [Name]?” He sits up, turning his body to face me. I fake a smile, waving him off. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Just thinking. Sorry.” How am I supposed to be his friend if I carry guilt that has nothing to do with me? How can I like him and not be able to understand him? It’s idiotic looking. It makes me look selfish, turning other people's problems into my own. “Thinking about?” 

“Your name. How I never guessed it.” I force out a chuckle that sounds like a high pitched animal making me wince in embarrassment afterwards. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks me again. 

“I’m fine, Claggor.” His name rolls off my tongue easily. Like it was meant to be said from my lips.

“I remembered I have somewhere I need to be. My mom will kill me if I’m late. See you later?” I ask him, blinking tears away as I abruptly get up. “Um, yeah. Tomorrow?” He gets up with me, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ah, I can’t. Family thing.” I lied. “Oh, maybe the next night? Mylo wants me to go to this party where his crush is djing. I do not want to go.” He laughs, walking me to his front door. My stomach flips, not knowing how to respond. “Maybe, I’ll let you know the day of.” I swallow down the lump in my throat. “Okay, okay. I don’t mean to cling. I just like spending time with you.” He smiles softly. I avoid eye contact. “Me too, Claggor.” I whisper before pulling him into an embrace. 

He lets out a small yelp of surprise before his hands slowly snake around my waist. “You’re a good friend, [Name].” He mumbles into my shoulder. Tears begin to threaten my eyes once again. “You’re a better one.” I pat his back before letting go. “See you.” I curtly wave before leaving. 

Man, I’m an idiot. 

It’s the day of the party, I haven’t left my bed since I came home after leaving Claggor’s house. My head racing with a million thoughts about how selfish and ridiculous I am. Cringing at all the conversations I’ve had with my friends about the Undercity. How incredibly obnoxious it always sounded. 

How strange I look just being this upset about everything. I wonder if Claggor thought the same about me. How strange it was that a girl was so wrapped up into his struggles. I would never want to tell him that either because I’m overthinking. I know I am. 

He’s my friend. He would tell me if I was being over the top.

Right? 

Right.

Stop it brain. 

A knock at my door echoes in my room. “Yes?” I call out, not bothering to get up. The door creaks open. “[Name] there’s someone here to see you.” A house worker tells me. I sit up, tilting my head confused on who would be here. “Um, tell them I’ll be right down.” I say, climbing out of bed. “Yes, ma’am.”

I grab my robe from my vanity, throwing it on over my pajamas. I slip my feet into my house slippers. I look like a mess but I don't care. It’s probably just a school mate to ask about some homework we have. 

I exit my room, heading down the stairs. I see Claggor and my body freezes in place. Staring down at him. Shit. I look like a mess! And that is not a school mate. 

He was looking around my home before his eyes locked with mine. His face erupts into a smile. “Just wake up or something?” He teases and my face flushes in response. “Uh- yeah, slept in.” I awkwardly chuckle, walking towards him. “How’d you know my address?” I asked him. “Also, why are you here?” 

“Well, first I bumped into one of your friends I met before. She told me you lived here. Second ouch, I can just leave if you want me to.” He points to the front door and I roll my eyes. “Sorry, sorry. I was just wondering, I was gonna come to you.” I cross my arms, and when I do his eyes flicker down to what I’m wearing.

Suddenly I’m extremely aware of how I look. My hair a mess, face puffy, and wearing a fancy robe with slippers. Weird combination. 

“I felt like when you left yesterday it was a bit… off? You seemed like you were about to cry so I thought I’d come here and maybe talk to you about that.” He fidgets with his hands, I observe his demeanor. He seemed extremely anxious. “Oh, I told you I was fine. Might’ve had something in my eye.” I shrug lying straight out of my teeth. 

“You know how I said you are not mysterious like me?” He asks. “Vaguely.” I smile but not understanding why he’s saying that. “It’s because you aren’t a mystery at all. Maybe I’m not either since you seem to know quite a bit about me. Anyways, not the point.” He lets out a heavy breath. “You don’t hide your emotions well. You’re an open book just by looking at you.” He chuckles and I tense up, feeling a little offended. He notices and sighs.

“What I mean is, when I first met you I knew you were a very empathetic person. Your emotions are what drives you to be who you are. I really enjoy that about you. I never thought someone could cry over a bug they killed until I met you.” He laughs at the memory of when we were hanging out one day at the bar and a bug was on the floor by my foot. I stomped on it and immediately felt bad. Thinking about the fact that it could’ve had a family. 

“You care so deeply for people you’ve never met. Wanting them to succeed even if it means you are risking your own happiness to do so.” He says softer than all his other words. “I hope you know that you have never upset me by asking your questions.” His eyes find mine and I open my mouth to say something but nothing comes out. He read me like a book. He practically studied me. I don’t even know how to respond. 

“I know that’s why you got upset. My sister passing away. I don’t mind that you asked. It happened as unfortunate as it is. You didn’t know and you wanted to. Because you care.” He places a hand on my shoulder. I look down at his arm then back to his face. “Please don’t feel bad for caring.” 

My eyes begin to water and I pull him into a hug. “I don’t deserve your friendship.” I mumble into his chest. “I think you do.” He disagrees. 

“I like you, Claggor.” I told him. “Like a lot. I care for you more than anyone else I’ve ever met. I’m scared that I can’t be what you need. I want to be. Everything and more.” I confess, pulling away from him. “Did you know that? Was I not hiding that emotion well either?” I try to uplift the mood. 

“I didn’t have a clue actually.” He grins. “I like you as well. Like a lot. You are everything I need and more. I promise you that.” He pulls me back into his arms, looking down at me as I look up at him. 

He closes the distance between us, his lips landing on mine. It was a short, soft kiss but it was something I never felt before. Shivers sent down my spine. I flutter my eyelids open, both of us smiling ear to ear like giddy little kids. Taking in the moment for a few seconds.

“Does that mean you’re going to join me at this party that I’m soooo excited about?” He sarcastically asks and I giggle in response. “I guess so. I definitely need to clean myself up first though.” I motion to my hot mess of a state that I’m in. “I think you look beautiful in this. Don’t even need to worry about changing.” He jokes and I lightly hit his arm. 

“What a liar.” I fold my arms. “Hm, maybe a little. Want me to come back to pick you up?” 

“You could hang out in my room while I get ready. Maybe choose my outfit?” I propose and his eyes light up. “Yeah, let’s go.” He happily responds. 

[fastandcarlos]

"I Can't Sleep Without You" : ̗̀➛ Daniel Ricciardo

summary: after watching you walk out after an argument, daniel finds himself unable to settle knowing that you're not there with him

Your eyes found themselves fixated on the ceiling once again, unable to push your argument with Daniel away from the forefront of your mind. It replayed again and again, the things you said, the feelings that surfaced, the hurt that Daniel had caused. 

Soon enough you found yourself walking out of the apartment, deciding to spend the night at a friend’s house. You thought it would be the perfect thing to do to forget about it, but you couldn’t have been further from the truth. 

Just like you, Daniel laid wide awake, struggling to believe what had happened. The bed felt empty without you, all he wanted was for you to be back there with him again. He couldn’t remember the last night he spent without you, although he knew the reason for it was all down to him. 

Arguments were rare between the two of you which was why you were both so overwhelmed. You’d shouted at Daniel louder than you ever had done before, likewise he’d said things you never thought you’d hear come from him leaving you both clashing. 

On his chest, Daniel’s phone kept lighting up. Each time he looked in anticipation that it might be a notification from you, only to be left disappointed each time he checked. 

No matter how many times he closed his eyes, Daniel soon found them open again as he thought about your argument and the things that he regretted. He knew now the things that he should have said, angry at himself for not saying those things rather than what he ended up saying to you. 

He knew the blame landed on him, but that didn’t stop Daniel feeling sorry for himself laying in the cold bed all by himself. The feeling of being without you was horrendous, hoping that you were struggling just as much as he was not being by his side. 

As another hour passed, Daniel picked up his phone again, scrolling through his list of contacts. His finger hovered over your name for a moment, silently debating with himself whether calling you was the best thing to do or not. 

Your eyes grew heavy once more when suddenly you were disturbed by the vibrations that came from underneath your pillow, reaching your hand under and pulling out your phone. 

When you saw Daniel’s name, your immediate response was to answer, that was until you remembered what had happened. You toyed with the idea for a moment, deciding to accept Daniel’s call on the last ring, gently pressing your phone to your ear, greeted by the sound of Daniel heavy breathing. 

“Dan,” you sighed, “what are you calling for at this time?” 

“I’m sorry, I know it’s late,” he replied, stunning you with how his voice wavered with upset. “I just wanted you to know how sorry I am. I’ve been such an idiot love, and now I’m lying here, unable to sleep without you here.” 

As he fell silent, you could hear Daniel sniffing as he tried to fight back the tears. You couldn’t begin to imagine how hard he was being on himself, unable to remember the last time that you heard Daniel upset, let alone crying and wiping away his tears.  

“It’s probably really selfish of me to ask, but is there any way that you could come home? I can’t sleep without you, and judging by the fact you answered my call, I'm guessing that you’re the same.” 

A sigh came from you as you thought for a moment, as much as you loved your friend’s home, it wasn’t the same as being in your own home and in the comfort of your own bed. 

“I’ll be there shortly.” 

Daniel muttered a thank you before leaving you to start heading home. You grabbed a couple of your things, writing a note for your friend before heading to your car. You were careful as you drove, keeping yourself composed as you dreaded to think how things would go when you got home.  

There was a light on as soon as you pulled up outside your home, locking your car and heading to the front door. You barely opened the door before Daniel greeted you, his face red and blotchy from where he had been crying. 

“Hi,” you murmured. 

A lump ran down your throat as your eyes met Daniel’s, walking into the apartment and taking a seat on the sofa. The place was a mess from how Daniel had left it, with him sitting on the seat beside you, but keeping a bit of distance between you both.  

His hands brushed through his hair as he tried his best to stay composed beside you. “I’m glad you decided to come back,” he whispered, “thank you.” 

“It’s fine.” 

You were blunter than Daniel had hoped, although it was the least that he deserved for how he had treated you, it still hurt him. 

“Love,” he slowly whispered, “I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am. I should never have said what I said, I was selfish, stubborn, inconsiderate, just an awful boyfriend. “ 

“You were an ass,” you agreed with a faint chuckle, glancing across at Daniel. “I shouldn’t have pestered you so much though, you obviously needed space and I didn’t give that to you, I probably just wound you up more.” 

Despite Daniel insisting that he was fine, you refused to believe him. You nagged and nagged, reminding him that he could open up to you. Daniel’s frustrations only grew though as he told you that he was fine, deciding to deal with things all by himself. 

“I wish things went differently tonight, Daniel,” you admitted, “this is our home, it’s where we should be spending every single night together.” 

“I agree, no matter how angry we are at each other.” 

Despite the early hours, the time apart was exactly what you needed. Both of you had some time to reflect, reminding yourselves just how much the two of you hated arguing with one another. 

Daniel’s hand slowly reached across and rested against your leg, shuffling along the seat so that the two of you were sat next to each other again. His smile turned up as your head rested down against his shoulder. 

“Can we go back to just being us? To cuddling in bed and falling asleep side by side.” 

You hummed in reply to Daniel, feeling his arms wrap around your frame as he lifted you up off of the sofa, resting you against his chest to keep you still. 

He didn’t let you go as Daniel dropped down onto the bed, resting you into his side as he pulled the duvet over you both. It felt like home again, smiling at how warm it was again with you right there with him.  

“This is much better,” Daniel murmured as he rested his head on yours, allowing his eyes to close once again. 

Your smile grew as he spoke. “Don’t ever let me complain about uncomfortable our bed is again, she had me sleeping on the sofa and I think if I’d have spent the night there, I’d have ended up with a broken back.” 

A chuckle came from Daniel, “that’s because nowhere can compare to our bed, no one makes you feel as comfortable as I do anyway.” 

“That’s true, you’re the best.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[teoft]

It's like Tumblr has become almost a diary for me, thanks to no character limit and a read more button. This atmosphere of acceptance and understanding helps a lot too.

I'll get back to posting actual art, juggling with Twitter and Bluesky along with commissions is taking up a lot of my time.

Anyway, thoughts about art community and being social

For the longest time I've had this feeling of being an outsider in this vague community of artists that see as colleagues of sorts. Like I meet all the "criteria" of being in the group, and yet don't really feel like I'm part of it. Well, it seems I am right in some way, and the reason is that they interact with each other, while I sit here drawing alone.

Unfortunately I've always been prone to isolate myself from others. I grew up feeling like I should be ashamed of loving to draw, since it was always fanart monsters, creatures and cool guys instead of "proper art" like animals and portraits. Before social media, I only drew for myself and never showed anything to anybody. I hid my art from my family, from the world, so that I wouldn't be judged. I think it is one of the biggest reasons why I have trouble interacting with people in the context of art (tbh I'm shit at being social anyway but that's a whole another problem).

Even when I had a scanner and means to post my art online, I never did, due to the whole "if you put something online it'll be there forever" mindset. My first actual account anywhere online must've been Facebook in 2010ish, where I only had a few friends. It was the perfect place for me to finally post anything online, and so I did: I used to post pretty much everything I drew on there. Slowly gaining courage, I eventually made my original Tumblr account, then Deviantart, Twitter, etc.

Still, all I did was throw my art out there in hopes of somebody liking it. I didn't really know how to interact with the people who commented on my posts, so instead I mostly just... made more art. I did have some friend groups here and there, but either they ended up falling apart or my social battery drained in such a way that I slowly drifted away. I had gotten used to just being by myself and relying only on myself in the online art world.

During my design studies, I started putting more thought and work on promoting myself, so that it could be one career path for me to take. My mindset was that I'll work hard and become "big", even if it meant that one post gained me just one follower. In 2020 I ended up going viral with a meme and suddenly getting tens of thousands of followers. It was great and a welcome boost of morale, but unfortunately 2020 was otherwise one of the worst years in my life.

Throughout the years people have come and gone, so the only constant for me has been myself, and my drive to develop my skills. Thus it's been too easy for me to just isolate myself. In a way it has been my strength with regards to art, but sometimes I wish I knew how to make lasting connections. I think/know I might be autistic to some degree, which adds to the difficulty of being social. Though, to be honest, I don't know if I'd gotten this far without my autistic hyperfixations.

I guess the thing I need to do now to fix this problem of loneliness and isolation is to just... slowly try and be more social. To reply to comments and talk to people. All of which is easier said than done. Still, just gotta take that first step and then keep going.

Despite lacking the kind of community I yearn for, it seems I've made a name for myself, enough so that people seem to take pride in knowing me. Or at least that's the impression I've gotten a few times. But still, I am happy that I've had a positive effect on people. After all, my two main motivators in art are that I like doing it, and I like when people enjoy my art.

[otomiyaa]

Day 29: Zombie

Miya Twins & Hinata

[Miya & Mia’s Tickletober 2023] - I don't think me picking the Miya twins to write in Miya & Mia's Tickletober 2023 was something I did on purpose. Or was it? I don't remember.

Word Count: 900

“AAAAAAHhh! AHAAHAHHA AAAAHHH!” 

Hinata cringed a little and tried to divide his attention between the TV screen and the live happenings right beside him. The zombie movie was long forgotten by his two companions who were providing fitting background noise to go with the gore and panic that happened on screen:

Miya Osamu was tickling his brother Miya Atsumu, and it was a brutal slaughter. All because… because… Hinata giggled. He didn’t even recall how or why it started, but one thing was certain, he now learned that Osamu could be pretty intense. 

Atsumu was usually the most tickly type, poking and tickling anyone any chance he may get. Hinata had often seen him try and provoke Osamu in public, but the latter would remain calm and serious, refusing to take the bait.

Now enjoying his first movie night with the two of them, a zombie movie night to celebrate Halloween which was right around the corner, Hinata got to see what Miya Osamu was like when he wasn’t provoked in public. 

And well yes. Quite the tickle monster he appeared to be. Having been a regular victim of Miya Atsumu’s tickle attacks, Hinata couldn’t help but enjoy see him screech and wail as Osamu planted his fingers between his ribs and did a magical wiggle that somehow got Atsumu to already scream bloody murder.

“AHAHAHAHH! OSAHhah-Nohooho!” Hinata stared at him in surprise. So hysterical! He eventually decided to pause the movie, not wanting to miss it any further, and he waited for the two to be finished. Osamu finally sighed and sat back. 

“Don’t worry about him. I tickled him to death. Should leave you alone now,” he said. Oh right! That was how it started. Hinata, sitting in the middle right between the two twin brothers, had been the first one to get tickled just briefly by Atsumu. It was Atsumu’s childish way of distracting him during the movie for no reason at all. Hinata had giggled and squirmed, and warned him to stop it. Osamu also wanted to see the movie, so he warned his brother as well. Atsumu didn’t really listen, and well, this was how it ended. 

Hinata snickered at Atsumu’s dead and breathless state. “You sure did!” he complimented Osamu. Osamu nodded and pointed at the screen.

“Let’s continue watching,” he said. But before they could do such a thing, Hinata suddenly yelled when he felt someone grab his ankle.

“Hu-WHAH!” Hinata cried when Atsumu had him in his grip all of a sudden. Atsumu was still a little breathless, but he let out an evil laugh and managed to pull Hinata backwards until he was captured in his arms. He then began to claw at Hinata’s tummy with both hands.

“Tickled me to death, huh? Well, guess that would make me a zombie too. Wouldn’t that be the better movie, hmm?” he asked, digging viciously into Hinata’s ticklish torso and making him scream.

“WHAHAH OSAHahhamu heheheeeelp!” Hinata had an inkling: Atsumu wasn’t such a hero when it came to the zombie movie. He may have either put up a brave face from the start, or he genuinely didn’t expect it to be as disturbing as it was. Osamu liked the movie, he wanted to see it and was seriously invested. Hinata was the one who picked the movie, of course he was interested. It was a little more bloody and gory than anticipated, but he enjoyed it especially with the Miya twins by his side.

“Aahhahatsuwhaha! Nohoho!” Hinata cackled, flailing and struggling against Miya Atsumu’s iron grip. This guy was like a zombie indeed. After getting tickled brutally to death just now, how did he have this much strength left? 

“PFahahhah! Plehehease nonono not thehehere!” It didn't matter how hysterical Hinata got, Osamu didn't seem to mind it. 

The guy calmly refilled his drink and checked his phone. “Are you done?” he asked his brother when Hinata's laughter turned to giggles. He lazily reached out for Hinata’s arm and tried to free him by pulling him to his side, but this only gave Atsumu free range to tickle Hinata’s underarms, which he gladly made use of.

“HEHEHEH! Nohoho! Guhuhuys!” Hinata felt a little embarrassed. Earlier he had been chuckling at Atsumu’s predicament, but right now he wasn’t doing a much better job.

“Shouyou-kun. Help me get that evil brother of mine, and I assure you, I won’t tickle you anymore…. today .” The way he highlighted ‘today’ which surely meant he would tickle him again tomorrow made Hinata squeak already.

“Buhuhut! Ahahaha!” he laughed. Join hands with Atsumu and wreck Osamu? No way. Osamu would absolutely grill his ass. But Atsumu was now working on him first, his fingers knowing perfectly well how to wiggle all over his ticklish sides, armpits and ribs, and Hinata was dying already. The metaphor of Zombie Atsumu tickling him to death and making him into Zombie Hinata… he couldn’t help but love it though.

“Ahahalright! Alrihihight! I’ll hehehelp!” Osamu looked at the both of them, sighed and got up, casually walking away.

“Hey not so fast!” Atsumu quickly released Hinata and jumped after his brother who went from walking to running, but he didn’t get far. Atsumu tackled him down and started to tickle him.

“Shouyou-kun, come quick!” 

Hinata’s zombie genes weren’t as strong as Atsumu’s, but on shaking legs he followed after him, with only one purpose: help him with his revenge on Osamu. And then, hopefully, finish the zombie movie without any further disturbances!

[blasphemousclaw]

i love how hornsent (npc) is unnamed and how it seems that in hornsent culture names are maybe are only for those of high rank (elder inquisitor jori is the only named hornsent, hornsent calls his family "mother, wife, and child" and refers to leda as "the woman" despite leda clearly having introduced herself to her other comrades and also announcing her name before the enir-ilim battle, but calls marika and miquella by their names, then calls messmer just "the impaler" before clarifying his name) and how it makes you address your ability to have compassion for someone who doesnt like you and doesnt want to be your friend and doesnt give his name. but also its so difficult to talk about hornsent (npc) and hornsent (people) because of this. do we call him the hornsent man??? do we keep going hornsent (npc) forever. to be clear i dont want to him to have a name but its so awkward..

yeah I think it’s super intentional that Hornsent doesn’t have a name; I don’t think it’s because that’s a part of hornsent culture tho because we do have a few other named hornsent of varying roles in society… in addition to Jori there’s also Curseblades Labirith and Meera, Divine Bird Warrior Ornis, and we don’t know if Romina and Midra are themselves hornsent but they’re at least culturally aligned with the hornsent… the Curseblades were not well regarded in hornsent society at all, and were in fact imprisoned before the time of Messmer’s invasion… so I do think that all hornsent did have names in the past, and the reason we don’t know a lot of them is more for thematic reasons

in one way I can see the lack of named hornsent as a testament to how thoroughly they’ve been decimated and erased from history, but I think even more importantly, we have to remember our character is grace-given, so living people like Hornsent and Hornsent Grandam have every reason to be suspicious of us and withhold their names! both respond to us in a very guarded and standoffish way, with good reason!

I also really like the idea that Hornsent no longer uses names from his past because his old self “died” in the fires alongside his family (@katyspersonal puts it really well in this post), like he’s making a choice to be nameless because he can never be that same person again! (also re: Leda I think he just didn’t care enough about her to use her name LOL)

but I 100% agree on the idea that the hornsent NPCs not having names is like, addressing your compassion as the player… these guys aren’t soft, weepy victims who are looking to be your friend… they’re angry, they’re hurting, and they want nothing to do with you! and why should they? their entire world was destroyed! I really dislike the attitude that if you’re not the “right” kind of victim, you clearly deserved everything you got. which is unfortunately how a lot of people have responded to the DLC

with all that said you’re so right that Hornsent just being called “Hornsent” is really confusing lol… I made a post somewhat recently about Hornsent not being able to heal (using the flasks of crimson tears) and like half the replies thought I was talking about ALL hornsent enemies healing lmaoooo it really is a problem… I try to differentiate by exclusively using capital-H Hornsent for our guy and lowercase-h for the hornsent as a whole because that’s how it is in game but it’s still not super distinct. oh well I guess I’ll have to keep typing Hornsent (guy)

[melatonindeficient]

random not so random arcane parallel or whatever this is

One of my favourite arcane relationships is that between viktor, jayce, and Mel (and not just cause them plus me is my dream polycule).

But another thing about them is how their storylines are so very different yet so deeply similar and intertwined and one of the reasons why is because they, more than anyone, time and time again share the theme that you can't escape where you come from.

I say them more than anyone else because they practically have entire seasons dedicated to that sentiment. Season one is them attempting to escape who they are (jayce, a scientist, Viktor, a person from the undercity, Mel, her family and that past) while season two is them being forced to look that past in the eye and embrace it.

The thing is, this embracing ends up not being for the better with Viktor because in returning to the undercity he feels indebted to "heal" it and then the whole wide world goes to shit. On the other hand, Mel and Jayce are forced to look their demons in the eye and work through them. Mel's case is more obvious, but with Jayce, though he doesn't go back to being a scientist (he can't really do so given the circumstances) and still takes on a leadership role, he does revert back to his initial dream of progress. He does something good for Piltover. That's all he wanted.

But though it was for the worse with Viktor (until the last literal five minutes of the show when he rethought his values and his actions thanks to Jayce) and for the better with Mel and Jayce, it takes elevation for Viktor and degradation for the other two for this change to happen. There is a parallel between Mel and Jayce in which they are both stuck at the bottom of a cave of sorts, and Viktor is quite literally floating in his paradise. It's a sort of heaven and hell, but strange because in this situation Mel and Jayce have little reason to be punished so severly (or at least, if they are being punished so should the eugenist but whatever). I guess it could be commentary on what one deserves based on whether or not they do something about their preconceived beliefs and the circumstances of their birth (because we know that they think pilties = good, zaunites = bad when it's actually the other way around) but that's a whole nother conversation.

But again, the whole heaven hell thing shows that the only way for them (particular Viktor and Jayce in this situation) to undergo great change was to see life from the perspective of someone, at least symbolically, opposite from them (as in going from the top to the bottom of society and vice versa). And it's even odder because the great change that they experience is literally just a reversion to who they were supposed to be from the start. They had to see life in an opposite way to go back to being the same.

It also shows that a person of a "lower class" can be elevated to the heights of heaven and we can call them a success (because they are) but there will forever be something wrong if someone is placed below someone else. All it proves is that the existence of a class with more power than another is bullshit.

Ekko (and alternate Powder) says that sometimes the only way to move forward is to leave some stuff behind but with Mel, Jayce, and Viktor the only way to move forward was to quite literally do the opposite: they had to reaccept what they'd left behind to do some good, real good in the world.

[seaescapologist]

Just wanted to talk a little bit about the current season (and its ties to the main story). I know it's probably better wait, until it's fully released, but… Spoilers for the first two chapters of the season + Y4

I really like that current season has thematic ties to the main story. I feel like with NOTME being intertwined with the story, it'd only make sense that the subject of squibs in wizarding society should come up. Not to mention Goldings/Merriweather ties to MC (which might be true or not, but at this point I am more inclined to believe them).

So, there were some things in the main story that already pointed to MC likely having magical relative(s), despite (as far as they know) being a muggleborn. First one being our first meeting with Ollivander, where he noted that there is something familiar about MC. Another, what was confirmed in Y4, Elliot is keeping track of MC. And based on what Winifred said at the start of Y3, he's been doing that even BEFORE he approached/started working with Daniel. Since at that point MC didn't really make anything to warrant that kind of attention in the main story, it'd make sense there is something else at play. Originally I thought that 6th former associate of Elliot's (the only former NOTME member aside from him not caught by the Ministry in Y4 as far as we know), was that connection. And I still do think it's very likely (MC not remembering them isn't a problem, considering how Hermione managed to make her family forget her in the books), but admittedly if MC's similarity to Tiburon is true, it does put a dent into one of the main clues in favor of that theory, since that'd at least explain Ollivander's line.

So Glenna and Merriweather's connection to MC. The story makes it pretty clear that Glenna isn't telling us full story. Which doesn't necessary makes what she already said is a lie. The implication that it's very likely that if MC's grandmother was a squib, she was straight up abandoned (and likely obliviated to not even remember having wizarding family), by Tiburon is heavily hinted at after all, based on how Glenna talks about him. Which obviously would explain her awkwardness about possibly contacting MC's grandmother.

But what is also interesting is that Golding house is full of torn up NOTME posters. Not only that, there is even NOTME mask in Marlowe's box of toys. Which doesn't really prove or disprove possible blood-relation to MC. But I do wonder, if that mask is Glenna's or Nyle's. Cause I honestly could buy both possibilities. And I almost feel like Glenna is a more likely suspect there. Especially since it would give another reason why she'd try to connect with MC (and it might be that Nyle's line about him wanting that she'd be "meeting right people" like MC instead was about her associating with NOTME).

Anyway, I've been thinking if Elliot keeping track of MC does have something to do with Merriweather family history. Morven lines suggest that Nyle or even MC's grandmother weren't the first squibs in their lineage. And especially Morven's line about squibs overreaching and always trying to prove themselves (and generally him implying complicated things about family history). I still can't shake the feeling that with the name 'Magic Awakened' there is some kind of artefact or something like that, that could actually do just that in the story (I wonder at what cost, especially with the 'The Tale of the Three Brothers' being in a focus this season), and if MC's squib ancestor played part in creating or uncovering it. And it'd make sense if it's something Elliot would try to get his hands on. The only thing I am not sure about is why Elliot would suspect MC needed to get it. Since one way or another it seems like one of descendants of Merriweather family is already working with NOTME. And also Elliot didn't really try to recruit MC, instead choosing a more indirect approach by working with Daniel. I guess it's possible this item (if it exists) is hidden in Hogwarts. So for obvious reasons neither Nyle nor Glenna would be the best options to get it in that case.

…And once again I am still not completely abandoning idea of that 'Sixth Associate' being connected to MC, after all the story made a point of having only five members of NOTME being caught, in which case that person might have the artefact instead and MC might just be a way to get to them. I think one point in favor of that possibility. Is that Elliot had a falling out with NOTME. But on the surface his goals for the organization seem roughly the same (now, I personally doubt it's genuine, but). So you have to wonder, what caused the split. And I'd say usage of dubious artefact could probably explain it. One way or another that Sixth person seems to be an important factor in the main story, that will come into play sooner or later.

Oh, well. Guess I'll have to wait and see. Hopefully end of this season will provide at least some answers (and further fuel for more theories, that's half the fun).

By the way, another thing that I liked this season is Glenna's love for detective stories (and I agree with her: magic does make it more difficult to write a compelling detective/mystery plot), maybe I am reading too much into it, but almost feel like a nod to creating theories about the story.

Edit. Actually thinking further on it, could Glenna potentially be that 'sixth associate'. Elliot's associates were Hogwarts Alumni (based on what he himself said in Y3), and I sort of assumed that they were in roughly the same age-range (well, likely a bit older than him), but that's not necessary the case after all. Now, posters were Elliot's/'New' NOTME's doing, so not something that past associate would spread, but that's the thing: the ones we see in her house are all torn up (so maybe, not unlike MC in Y4 she was removing them from around the Hogsmeade). And obviously the mask could be just a remnant from working with original NOTME team. ...Though if we interpret Nyle's line about 'right kind of people' as implying NOTME, it sounds like it's more of a recent thing (since it was about meeting 'new people')?

[boysinmaidoutfits]

Ocean eyes

Stepbrother au

Warnings: curses

mainly inspired by the Billie Eilish song ocean eyes🫢

Summary:You and rafe were step siblings, ever since your parents met they just had to be together. Rafe hated that though, so he ultimately hated you. He was mean, and always doing something to make everyone angry at him. Except you. You liked Rafe, even if he he was so mean sometimes for no reason you still remained sweet to him, the sweetest girl in fact, and that’s what annoyed Rafe the most. You clung to him always, especially when your parents were out, or away, like they were this weekend.

It was just you and rafe in the house, he sat in the living room, “Rafeyy!” I shout as I come down the stairs, as soon as I arrive in the living room I see Rafe’s blonde hair and broad shoulders as he slumps back to couch with a gruff look on his face as he watched the tv. "Shh! For fuck's sake, will you be quiet?" He muttered under his breath "Always fuckin' noisy..." he takes a swig of his beer, deliberately avoiding looking at you "What do you want, y/n?” I sit down next to him on the couch, our arms slightly touching which was seeking me more comfort than it should. “Just wanted to spend some time with my stepbrother, what are you watching?” He rolls his eyes as you sit next to him, his arm tensing as you get too close for comfort. "Last nights game, you're gonna sit here and stare at the tv with me?" He asks sarcastically, taking another swig of his beer. “Thats what i was planning on doing yeah.. if it bothers you just say so god..” I slightly roll my eyes, i never understood his attitude and why he was so cold all the time towards me. "I don't want you near," He snaps, his temper flaring. "Happy now?" He takes another swig of his beer, trying to drown out the fact that you're still sitting there acting all nice to him. “Fine, I.. I guess I’ll just go then..” i mutter as i stand up to leave with a disappointed look on my face, as i start heading to the kitchen.

A few moments pass, it feels so quiet but Rafe’s thoughts aren’t, he gets up from the couch, his feet carrying him to the kitchen despite his brain telling him not to. He leans against the doorframe, watching you as you grab some food. He hates how you always look so sad when he snaps at you.

As i rummage through the fridge and get some ingredients, i hear a slight creak causing me to turn around, and there he was, Rafe standing right in the door. “You need something?” I ask, i cant help but still be nice to him, this is one of the traits i hated about myself, my niceness. "No," He says gruffly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Just came to see what you were doing." He watches as you turn back to the fridge, his eyes trailing over your small figure. He quickly looks away, not wanting to get caught staring. “Well.. im gonna make your favorite so you better be hungry.” I turn around smiling up at him with all the food piled up in my hands, i quickly settle it down on the counter. “Im not hungry y/n..”he snaps, even Rafe didn’t know why he snapped at you, why was he so annoyed by your presence? What was even his issue? He walks further into the kitchen, leaning against the counter. "You're too fucking stubborn for your own good, you know that?" I look up at him. “Oh so im the jerk for caring for you or what?” I slightly raise my voice which usually never even happens, but this time he was acting really stubborn. “And what is that even supposed to mean?! Look at how YOU’RE acting right now..” I huff. "It means you don't take no for an answer, even when it's clearly what someone wants," His eyes trace your features, noting how the harsh kitchen light brings out the freckles across your nose. "Like right now." “I really don’t wanna play one of your games tonight Rafe, plus all this shit that you’re doing doesn’t affect me get that in your head.” I turn away from him refocusing on preparing the food, “Oh, it'll affect you," He says, his voice cold. "It'll affect you more than you realize." He reaches out, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at him. "You think you're so fucking tough, but you're not." He looks at me with his piercing cold ocean blue eyes, all i see is hatred. I realize im not tough, my eyes began to tear up and my throat goes dry i try to look away, pull away, but his grip is tight. He notices the tears welling up in your eyes and something inside him snaps. "Fuck," He curses, his grip on your chin tightening. "Don't cry, goddamn it." He pulls you into his chest, holding you tightly against him. I breathe in his rich woody cologne and the words “Im sorry..” spills out from my mouth. "Don't apologize," He murmurs, one hand moving to stroke your hair while the other keeps you firmly against his chest. His heart is racing, beating against your ear. "Stop... being so fucking sweet to me," He whispers, voice cracking slightly. "It makes everything... harder."

[delphiniumpacificguinevere]

Gosh, this is gonna be a long story… I mean really long…

Absolutely starting with T.H.White’s the once and future king. My parents were like changing working places in different countries all the time and so my siblings and I were usually went to international schools which were taught in English, u know, global language, and international schools in all countries teach in English. So back to about 7 one of my teachers (a very sweet British lady) gave me that White’s novel and I was just so into it. But then I’m started to focus on other stuffs and did not think about Arthurian for years.

The when I was like 13 or something(can’t remember lol) my family moved to the UK and my school was like spending the whole year teaching Le Morte D’ Arthur in Literature class, but what’s the most important for me is that, they adapted the book into a stage play (not a big one, just school show) and selected performers from among the students. Yes, and I have been chosen to cast Guinevere. (I still don’t know why my teacher choose me a new coming student and English is like my 3rd or 5th language, maybe just eney menny miny moe ur gonna be Guinevere in this show lol). I was under huge pressure but also very grateful for the trust so I was like “I’m gonna do this beyond just ok, come hell or high water”. I made the whole year absorbing all Arthurian sources as much as I could and I spent most of my time learning about Gwen (Obviously). I feel like I started to have a strong and deep emotion connection to the Camelot Queen and by the end of the show I felt like I wanted to cry so badly, I was so attached to Guinevere (it was really embarrassing i still can’t figure out what’s wrong with myself lol).

Yeah, I think this is where I really started to get into the Arthurian legend, I even think that liking it was the reason I chose to stay in the UK. (Yup, my parents have since happily gone on to work in other countries, but I said I don't want to wander around, I’m gonna stay here plz let me stay) Gosh, it's so convenient that if you live in the UK if you see a certain location of interest for Arthurian you can just go there and check it out…

btw my sister is also quite into Arthuriana (well, under my influence), but she’s pretty stick to Arthur & Guinevere, so every time u know when i say “aww i feel like Guincelot and even MordGuin is cute” she’s like “damn u…” lol, sisterhood<3

Plz ignore this part:

And thanks for the Isles of Britain to “adopt” me lol, feels like I'd be more likely to call the UK my home rather than others, as although I've lived in many countries (thanks to my parents? I guess I should be thankful? But I actually don’t really think so) I haven't grown attached to any of them probably because none of them have I lived for time long enough (even those where my ancestors came from, how to say this, like my lineage). Being mixed race identity crisis has always been a thing, even exacerbated by changing residence all the time in my childhood, so it really feels good to have a place a country to be called home u know… Seriously, in that way, Arthurian legend has changed my life (my saviour) (this sounds really really weird I know…)

Yeah i just yapped too much, ignore me plz… but this question just brought so many precious memories to me🥹… thx 4 this question for just be brought up🥺

arthuriana fandom. what was your FIRST introduction to arthuriana im v curious,,, like was it a book a movie word of mouth etc etc

[ranvwoop]

hmmm i think I will make a techno queueblog like the ranb / tbo ones .. because i like. heem

[purpurussy]

.

[artsandstoriesandstuff]

Me looking through all the reblogs/comments from people genuinely concerned about my wellbeing:

[flock-of-cassowaries]

As a person diagnosed with a disease that causes brain inflammation, whose diagnosis was significantly delayed by a neurologist failing to pass along important MRI results - yes, this was infuriating.

I nevertheless ship Hannigram, for reasons I struggle to succinctly explain.

(I would say “brainworms”, but I now get a monitoring MRI every year, and my last scan was clear. Presumably, someone would’ve mentioned it if there were literal worms in there.)

More on both the medical angle, and the “why TF do I ship this??” angle, below the cut.

What it felt like to find out important test results were not shared with me:

It was a horrible gut punch. In my case, there was no malice - only negligence - but the result was that I had been walking around for ten years gaslighting myself that the worsening symptoms I was experiencing couldn’t possibly be what I originally thought they were.

I was mad, but also just devastated. It really shook my core sense of safety in the world.

It took me about a year to even start to kind of feel normal again, despite the fact that I was getting really good medical care in the wake of the error being detected.

Details of what’s portrayed in this episode that are just dumb (aka ✨pedantry✨):

My experience of actual medical testing and care around inflammatory autoimmune brain conditions makes me even more irritated by this plot line.

First off, the MRI scene. Like, perhaps it’s different in the states, but in Canada, MRI departments operate 24/7. I’ve had scans scheduled at 3am.

They will definitely set up an emergency scan for you if you have an emergent condition (I only waited four days for the scan that ultimately got me diagnosed), but there’s no way that they could just do an “off the books” unofficial scan with no one around, as is portrayed in the show.

Also, neurologists don’t perform the MRI. Radiologists do it, and then they send it to the neurologist to interpret.

Most importantly, you CANNOT move your head during a scan. There’s actually a little cushion in there that fits tightly around your head to stabilize it so you don’t accidentally move it, but they also will tell you to stay very still. One radiologist warned me to “breathe gently”.

In the show, you can see the plastic frame where the stabilizing cushion should be, but in the name of a cool shot, they’ve removed it, and Will Graham is just bobbing his fucking head like he’s in Night At The Roxbury.

I was so irritated I made a gif.

That scan would be unusable.

Also, the fact that Hannibal is able to correctly guess the exact condition Will has makes no sense. So many things could mimic those same symptoms.

To conclusive determine that what I had was MS, the following tests were done (within the context of the taxpayer-funded Canadian medical system):

1. Standard blood panel and urinalysis to rule out common infections

2. MRI

3. MRI with contrast fluid

4. Spinal tap

5. Seventeen additional blood tests

And they did all that despite the fact that I had a first degree-relative already diagnosed with the same disease.

Some people have suggested Hannibal made the diagnosis based on smell, but that is anatomically nonsensical. The brain is wrapped in a pretty thick membrane; aseptic brain inflammation would be not off-gassing from the skin or mouth like a stomach cancer, or arsenic poisoning.

Finally, the ease with which Hannibal is able to talk Dr. Dipshit into committing gross and easily-detectable medical malpractice makes no goddamn sense. It is perhaps the baldest example of the cynicism of the show’s writing - as I argued in another post, it portrays a world in which almost everyone is despicable.

If we rule out the possibility of literal brainworms, how the f*^% did I end up shipping these two?

As for how I ended up shipping Hannigram anyway - I think a lot of it comes down to the fact that as a former right-wing true believer, I am an expert at creatively misreading media.

When almost all of popular art has the theme “your beliefs are bad, and you should feel bad”, you learn to preemptively kill the author (death the author?) so that you can extract enjoyment from a work of art without reexamining your odious beliefs.

( See: Republican politicians using lefty protest songs at rallies. )

I’m no longer a conservative - I excised those brainworms about a decade ago, thank god - but the willingness to just arbitrarily toss out parts of a story that don’t suit remains strong in me.

Season 2 of Hannibal is quite good, and Season 3 (while objectively bonkers and very poorly paced) has some great character moments. Hannibal as a character becomes a lot more complex as he unravels.

This unraveling makes him a fascinating figure onto which to project some of my worst psychological tendencies - specifically, my tendency towards splitting (where I see the people close to me as either all good, or all bad, and for that perception can change in an instant). So that’s really interesting to explore.

It’s also probably a deliberate misreading of the text on my part, but there are quite a few parts in s2 and s3 where Hannibal can be read as straight-up delusional; and while I am sensitive to the fact that people with delusional disorders are far, far more likely to be victims of violence than perpetrators, I am also endlessly fascinated by the trope of “character looks back on his life, and sees a series of horrible sins he’s committed, whose damage to others cannot be undone; and struggles with how to cope with that.”

So in that context, giving Hannibal a deus-ex-machina of high-dose risperidone creates some fascinating narrative possibilities.

(This is probably something I enjoy writing because I spent 15 years being an obnoxious apologist for horrible right-wing politicians.)

I also just like the idea of Will taking it upon himself to kill this guy once and for all, and then not being able to bring himself to do it, and instead just keeping him captive and constantly wrestling with the question of whether he’s just being pragmatic about keeping everyone in the vicinity safe from his pet serial killer, or if he’s actually doing what he’s doing to passive-aggressively punish Hannibal.

There’s just so much there, thematically, that I love to play with.

hannibal lecter SLANDER rant [spoilers for 1x10]

WHATTTT WHAT WHAT. Hannibal Lecter…Oooh… this just confused me so bad guys and when I finish the whole series and this whole rant turns out to be wrong I’ll admit it but how can you still sit there and ship hannigram!!!!! after this!!!!! it made me so mad that a LICENSED RADIOLOGIST sat there and lied to Will’s face ABOUT HIS OWN RESULTS because Hannibal asked him or whatever the fuck, I don’t know how close him and the doctor are yet or what their relationship is BUT???? LIKE???? He’s actively subjecting him to hallucinatory torture and the pain that comes with it, HALF. OF. HIS. BRAIN. IS. INFLAMED. HE CAN LITTERALY DIE FROM IT + brain damage, seizures, and worsen his already worse mental health. I HATE THIS GUY!!!! My hate train will start from here and continue on until he can prove me wrong

[ourstarscollided]

You’re welcome to explain your answer in the tags!

[danwhobrowses]

Okay cool so this is was me all of this and last week fretting years off my life about the episode and I guess it's gonna be me next week fretting years off my life about next episode coolcoolcoolcool