#and also i'm the one living my life so i can see that already for myself

[adollwritesblog]

The trolley problem is an excellent representation of the difficult situation American voters find themselves in! However, can we consider what it would look like if we changed the viewpoint around, showing the voters who pull the lever to change the course to the one person? Would the representation in that scenario be celebrating, knowing that they took a life by participating in a fucked up system that forces them to do so? Wouldn't they be in a similar situation as the person who refuses to participate? "This isn't my fault, I took the moral high ground..." Do people who vote not recognize that they too are taking a moral high ground? Let's just keep in mind that the entire point of the trolley problem is to complicate the idea of a "moral high ground".

Like yes, I see that OP seems to have a utilitarian point of view of the situation in which driving the trolley is obligatory. However, we live in a society in which not all people are utilitarian and may take the equally valid stance of approaching the problem so (from Wikipedia): "moral wrongs are already in place in the situation, moving to another track constitutes a participation in the moral wrong, making one partially responsible for the death when otherwise no one would be responsible. An opponent of action may also point to the incommensurability of human lives."

For the record, I voted, and I'm glad I did, and I am of the opinion that people should vote. But I'm tired of the way people dismiss the opinions of those who have elected to not vote, especially when these people still promote social good. I'm tired of the flattening of their perspective just because those with a utilitarian point of view can't comprehend that perspectives outside of their world view are valid and should be respected, even when we find them to be controversial (not saying this for Trump voters; fuck Trump voters).

The people who vote are taking as much of a moral stance as those who chose not to vote, and both must suffer the consequences of the situation they find themselves in. The people who vote are just as idealistic as the people who choose not to vote. The people who vote are just as realistic about the situation as those who chose not to vote. Americans are stuck in an incredibly tricky moral dilemma. This is why the trolley problem has been of fierce debate for over half a century.

All y'all fuckers when you say you ain't gonna vote

[furiousgoldfish]

I've noticed the other day how life is fundamentally different when living out of abuse. I had an experience of waking up in the morning, sleepily tapping over to the kitchen in my pajamas, wondering what to make for breakfast, and making a plan for the day. Completely careless and unselfconscious, thinking only about the food and what I wanted to do with my day. It hit me then how impossible every aspect of this would be, had I still been living in the abuse.

If I was still around abusers, my first thought in the morning would not be 'oh I'm so sleepy I'm gonna find something to eat', it would be 'Are they in the house, are they in the room, are they already mad at me'. I would be looking around cautiously, listening for every sound that indicates they're near me. I would be checking the clock to see if their schedule had already put them in their workplace or wherever they go, and then still peering trough the doors anxiously to see if the hallway is clear, if I can get to the kitchen. I'd be checking how I look to see if I'll be reprimanded for being in the pajamas in the common area. I'd change just to avoid the possibility. I'd be checking each item of food and wondering if it's okay to take it, or whether there's a chance I'll get yelled at or blamed for taking it. I'd be analyzing the last words and actions we exchanged to try to predict how close the abuser is from blowing up and possibly attacking me.

The rest of my day would be scheduled around avoiding them, or alternatively, being in the place where they could easily find me, because if I'm not where I'm expected to be, they might get mad. All of my activities could be stopped and prevented at moment's notice if they decided I need to be doing something for them at that moment. I could be yelled at for not doing something for them sooner, for 'making them say it'.

If I wanted to go out, I'd have to consider if this is allowed, and if they'd want me to stay inside for one reason or another. If I am outside, I'd have to worry about what's going to happen to my stuff if I'm not back whenever they're expecting me to be there, or what kind of angry state I'd find them in. It would be safest to notify them of everything I'm doing, but they might immediately call it unnecessary, stupid, offensive or otherwise inconvenient, and force me to drop it and do something for them instead. Secrecy was the only way to do things, but also risky in case some part of it turns out to be not allowed. There were never any clear rules to what is okay, it would change with their moods.

If I could hear the abuser's car parking in the driveway, I would run back inside of my room, as if it was the 'safe area', when it wasn't. It would at least take me out of their view, so they wouldn't immediately think to start at me. But if they wanted to, they could just go inside of my room and charge at me then. I would just delay being the target, putting myself out of immediate sight. Of course this also meant I couldn't leave any trace of doing anything in the home, so it wouldn't be noticeable I just ran away. Everything has to look untouched.

And then when they interacted with me, I had to make sure to not show emotion on my face, to not look overly confident or happy, to not show any fear or anxiety, to not look sad or upset, to not look angry. I had to act normal, or else. I had to try and defend my own actions and interests walking a fine line of 'trying to let them know I'm upset and unhappy about this, without setting them off and causing them to blow up at me for talking back'. And I'd be told off for this too, because 'how could I complain when people have it soo much worse and I am ungrateful for having a roof over my head'. I had to do whatever was asked out of me, and restrain from even expressing it wasn't what I wanted, for the fear of losing the roof over my head.

Unbelievable I just lived like that for many years. And now I can flop in my pajamas to the kitchen, eyes half closed, make a mess, and think of nothing but food and plans for the day, not worrying for a second that someone could target me for any move I make. I still get scared easily, but nobody attacks me anymore. I can take any item of food, for it is all mine. I can decide to go out anytime, come back anytime, no consequences. I decide what is good for me to do, and nobody else gets an input. I can think of my own interests, and disgreard what anyone else in the world could want from me, because I don't exist for their convenience, and I don't have to worry about it anymore. What I lived before feels absolutely intolerable now. Even one second of that is unsurvivable.

[whatifitis]

♡ Nine Lives - LH 44 ♡

Summary: Movie night with you and Lewis leads to yet another silly love declaration from the both of you.

Author's Note: This was a request that asked for a fluffy Lewis fic so here is my attempt at some extra fluffy stuff! Hope y'all like it. Feedback is always appreciated <3

WC: 964

CW: fluff, this whole thing is basically the nine lives song from webkinz so there's no originality i'm sorry 😭, roscoe mention

It was movie night and it was your turn to pick the movie. Well, it’s been your turn to pick the movie. Usually, you and your boyfriend, Lewis, will alternate who gets to pick the movie to make it fair, but the past 5 times, it’s been Lewis’ choice. 

You pointed out the other day that it was meant to be your turn since you hadn’t been able to pick one in ages, to which Lewis argued that the both of you had been mutually agreeing on movies which is a flat out lie. While you do enjoy watching his favorite movie Cool Runnings, it was getting to a point where you got annoyed every time the opening scene played. 

The alternate choice Lewis would give sometimes was Frozen and you could no longer let it go and love was soon gonna be an open door that would be shut in Lewis’ face. 

After some bickering, Lewis finally let you pick the next movie. You had decided that you were going to make him watch your favorite movie of all time, The Three Lives of Thomasina. You had watched the film for the first time as a child, and since then, it always brought you a sense of joy and comfort. 

The two of you prepared for your movie night by doing the usual, setting up a fort built out of couch cushions, pillows and blankets. Tonight you added some fairlights for some extra flair and in celebration of it finally being your turn to pick the movie. You had also gone out earlier in the day and bought a ton of snacks just for tonight, as well as ordering some takeout. 

Once everything was set up, Lewis, Roscoe, and yourself got settled and comfortable in your little fort. You and Lewis immediately dug into the food as you clicked play on the tv. Don’t worry about Roscoe though, you had prepared a special, vegan meal for him so that he was included in the family activity. 

When the opening scene began, Lewis was already, jokingly, sighing exasperatedly, rolling his eyes an excessive amount of times. His arms folded across his chest with a playful smile playing on his lips every time he complains about the movie, side eyeing you from time to time to watch your reactions to his antics. 

Half way through the movie, you and Lewis are cuddled up and the food has been run through. As the movie continues playing, a question pops into your head. 

“If you were a cat, would you live them all with me?” you asked curiously. 

Lewis looks down at you, brows furrowed a bit as he’s unsure where this question came from. Then he smiles, loving all the times you would ask him questions like this. They were just silly questions asked for fun and out of curiosity, but they were also ways he could profess his love to you in new ways. 

“If I had nine lives, I would live them all with you. We would go on more adventures than we do now. I would take you on a trip around the world on a sailing ship. It would be a simple boat built just for two and we’d set sail, just me and you. We'd go round and when we’d reach our destination, we’d start over. You’re the only one for me, darling. Can’t you see?” he tells you. 

“I can. For life two, we could build a home with lots of kids and garden gnomes. We would listen to the pitter-patter of feet running up and down the street.” you tell him, eyes sparkling like the night sky that shines over the two of you through the window.

“For number three, it’d be like now. I’d work a lot because that’s what I was always taught. But we’d buy all the things we’d need for a healthy family. And for life four, you would read because you love to. You’d have your own library that I built just for you. Every now and then, I’d look for your face among them.”, he rubs his thumb on the bare skin of your hip and continues, “For lives five, six, seven and eight, we would try and alleviate the sounds of suffering and the cris of hunger, pain, and forlorn eyes. We’d help people everywhere.”

Your heart is beating warmly in your chest, being reminded of all three love you and Lewis share for not only each other, but for the world that brought you two together. 

With a deep breath, you finish the story, “For life nine, we would be somewhere on a pair of rocking chairs. We’d be happy, slightly grey. If you’re lucky, I’ll bake a cake. And when I wish on a star, I will wish for nine more lives, cause nine lives would not be enough with you.” tears are now streaming down your face. 

Lewis holds the side of your face, wiping away the tears with his hand. He pulls you close to him and presses a kiss to your head, then moving to capture your lips in a soft and comforting kiss. He keeps you there for a moment, reminding you that you are his and he is yours. When you pull apart, Lewis is looking at you with admiration and love in his eyes. 

“You are my one and only love.”

Roscoe lets out a little whine, to which you and Lewis laugh at. 

You sit up and pull Roscoe to sit between Lewis and yourself. 

“How could we forget you, Roscoe? You’re the best thing to ever happen to us. My beautiful, beautiful boy. You would join us for all our lives as well, cause we wouldn’t want to do it without you.”

[whumpster-fire]

Oh boy okay I think my smallest / least known fave is Ambersun (formerly known as Albion, changed because of how many other bands have the same name), and I am begging everyone to listen to this band because seriously it is so good.

Summary: it's a power metal band which I think may be basically a one man show plus various guest vocalists I'm not sure, which does story-based concept albums based on different works of fiction. Possibly qualifies as Rock Operas? Anyway I love "fandom music" and this is one of my all time favorites even though two of the albums are for "I don't even go here" fandoms and the other is for a book I found through the music, because the sound is awesome, the lyrics are awesome, and you can just hear the passion put into them.

I'm now going to post a bunch of lyrics under the cut please please please listen to these songs. Actually just listen to the albums in order, this is one of those bands where the songs are already good as standalones but you really need to listen to the full album to get the full experience.

We are lost, in an endless night, the sun drained from our eyes

Gone, when we sold our lives to the plague that stole the sky

"Life Before Death," from The Poison Skies

Erased and they don't care, but you would still be here if only you'd stayed, been mine only mine

It's so unfair to leave me, the tribe I formed deceived me, but now I'll fight in your name

There's no way to hide from their stare,

I still feel their eyes everywhere

And the hatred that clouds all their minds, it hides the truth of it all

"Out In the Wilds" from The Poison Skies

The one to keep the noble name, to carry all their hopes and dreams, a future severed when one night became forever

"Run" from The Poison Skies. This. Freaking. Song. Has changed me. "Run" is a banger on its own, but reading The Afflicted and reaching the scene this song is about made it so much better and also slightly painful. Which can be said about the entirety of The Poison Skies but this song especially, because the entire song is a character high on adrenaline, deluding himself into believing he can actually pull off the promise he made to his friends that he was going to survive the badass self-sacrificing stunt he was pulling. Also I have no idea how I have not gotten a speeding ticket while playing this in the car yet.

Visions that I can't erase, every time I see her face,

She reminds me of how I never tried

Now I watch us as we fall, can't help anyone at all,

Why did I alone survive?

Survivor's Guilt!

"Survivor's Guilt" from The Poison Skies

This worthless weapon symbolizes who I am

Remaining silent, offer no resistance,

And I become the iron mask

"Disappear" from The Poison Skies

Survive one last dance through the wind and the cold,

We can't change our stories, but they still can be told

"Snow" from The Poison Skies

Sealed in cryogenic cold, I'll dive into the dark, reanimate your soul

Together we will rise up hand in hand this blackened night

"Morning" from The Day the Night Slept

I'll burn in the night, I'll light up the sky, you'll see,

And I'll be the Scorpion's Fire!

"The Scorpion's Fire" from The Day the Night Slept

Lost in the night, but still he survives

I'll tear apart time so his heart never dies

"Asriel Must Be Saved" from Buried Souls. Yes this is exactly what it sounds like from the title. A 15 minute musical fix fic about finding a way of saving Asriel Dreemur from Undertale with some sort of timeline fuckery I don't understand because I haven't played the game. And it's glorious.

Mighty wheels will turn again, flames of faith ignite

Chase the legend of the sun, and bathe our world in light

"Bring Back the Sun," currently a single release.

enough about taylor swift already. reblog and tag the smallest, least known artist you listen to

[cheshiresense]

Hello Anon, I hope you won't mind if I screenshot pieces of your ask, I read it but my muse vaulted over your first 3 questions and then took off on your 4.1, and now here we are, so I'm just going to chop these up and post them depending on what I can come up with.

This started out with TBTP!Shunsui never getting his memories and then kind of spiralled. He still doesn't get his memories but... well, you'll see. It really ran away from me lmao. No thoughts behind it, just vibes, I hammered this out in like fifteen minutes and it felt like a fever dream.

Starrk would definitely have complicated feelings about it. Like at the start when he agreed to go back, I think a part of him even then expected for the entire thing to end with his death, even if they manage to neutralize Aizen and defeat the Wandenreich, but whether or not he manages to survive it all, he definitely has no plans to get together with TBTP!Shunsui.

For one, obviously they're not the same person. I wouldn't say they're completely different, and I imagine TBTP!Shunsui would be a lot closer to Winter War!Shunsui, whom Starrk had met first. But TYBW!Shunsui is the one Starrk knew best, and TYBW!Shunsui suffered quite a few losses in a very short time. Like to Shinigami, even a hundred years probably isn't that much, especially to one who's already lived over a thousand years. But TYBW!Shunsui lost everyone he'd known for a thousand years in like the space of a week, he lost his mentor, he lost his closest friend, and on top of all that, he had the weight of a war fuelled by a grudge a thousand years in the making dumped on his shoulders, he had the duties of Captain-Commander of the Gotei 13 dumped on him, he had the deaths of literal thousands of Shinigami dumped on him, and then in this AU he had to be the one to carry everyone else through another 7 years of waging an endless bloody war that after a certain point neither side was ever going to win, but he had no way of stopping it either.

That sort of thing would take its toll on anyone. TYBW!Shunsui was a man changed by loss and grief and more responsibilities than he'd ever wanted. I imagine he would've had very little time or cause to still remember how to be the person he was before the Quincy War when he still had it in him to relax and enjoy life.

But I also imagine that Starrk being there had helped. Starrk has always been a quick learner, and it's not like he'd really known anyone there save Shunsui. He stuck close to his Shinigami, watched and learnd the way Shunsui strategized for each assault and skirmish, contributed what he could where he could, pitched in by keeping the Fourth Divison alive and functioning, shouldered some of that weight by finally wielding all his strength and mowing down entire battlefields of Quincy on his own just so other Shinigami wouldn't have to and Shunsui would thereby have one less thing to worry about.

And in the precious stolen moments in-between, Shunsui had someone to go home with, someone who guarded him while he slept, someone to distract him from the war (from his failure to protect yet more Shinigami fallen in battle under his command), someone to sit beside who knew the same kind of loneliness and didn't recoil from it, who was content to hold him and share in his silence when he just needed a moment to breathe.

I imagine there wouldn't have been many things to be happy about, but I think they'd still manage to carve out some happiness between them. Starrk had known very little of things like human food and clothes and games and books. Shunsui had been delighted to introduce whatever he could to him. They learned about each other, about their similarities and differences, about their strengths and weakness and hopes and fears, secrets exchanged in the dead of night in the safety of a shared office, a shared bed, a shared home. And even in the midst of a war and so much death and destruction, they managed to build something beautiful and strong, something that would've been long-lasting too under any other circumstances.

Because then Shunsui dies, a year before the true end of the war, and Starrk had perhaps not seen it coming even though there was never any real guarantee on a battlefield, but it had also been an unspoken certainty of his, something he knew the way he knew bones were breakable and blood was red and murder was easy--the day Kyouraku Shunsui dies would be the day Coyote Starrk would also fall. With any luck, Shunsui would only die over his dead body, but fortune has never favoured Starrk, and he'd figured the other way was fine too. That way, Starrk wouldn't be yet another person in a long line of people to have left Shunsui behind and alone once again, and he'd thought it would make no real difference. If Shunsui dies, Starrk would surely be minutes behind, by his own hand or otherwise.

That doesn't happen. It doesn't happen because the rest of the Gotei had gotten over any qualms they might've had about working with an Arrancar or even Aizen's former Primera Espada years ago, and besides, Starrk had already broken all the known rules and beliefs several years back by becoming a whole soul and evolving into something no one had ever seen before. He couldn't really be considered a Hollow anymore, for all that there was no other name for him either. And with all that he'd done - following Shunsui into battles and meetings and everything in-between with the kind of steadfast devotion the tide held for the moon, burning the midnight oil right alongside all the other captains and lieutenants because even a hopeless war generated paperwork and headaches as much as it did low supplies and emergency triage and lists and lists of dead, powering through enemy forces to save even just one more Shinigami with the kind of firepower rivalled only by the likes of Kurosaki Ichigo and Aizen Sousuke, and carrying the Fourth on his back by sheer force of will and a truly terrifying mind that had soaked up every medical text he'd had time to read and every medical procedure he'd had time to learn or extrapolate or straight-up invent out of fatal necessity - Starrk had long become a pillar the Gotei 13 couldn't do without, a figure at their helm as familiar and reassuring as the long unwavering shadow Kyouraku had cast. And in the devastating wake of even their Captain-Commander's death, with only a handful of captains and their squads remaining, they couldn't afford another titanic loss on its heels.

And, as Hirako had been the one to point out, all glittering ruthless eyes borne from desperation and pragmatism--Kyouraku Shunsui had protected Soul Society with his very last breath; if they were to ever meet again, would Starrk even be able to look Shunsui in the eye if he wouldn't even stick around to try and defend the place and people Shunsui had loved enough to die for?

(A year later, Mimihagi would use the exact same argument to receive the answer he needed to send the second envoy the Soul King had chosen back in time to save the world.)

(Perhaps the lesson Starrk had learnt best at Shunsui's side had been the one of duty. Or perhaps it had been the one Shunsui hadn't even meant to teach but Starrk had learnt anyway, had held closest to his heart, the one of love.

They were about the same thing in the end, when it came to what Starrk would do for Shunsui.)

Hirako had even dragged Ichigo to stand before him, Isane too, each and every last person Starrk would even nominally call a comrade and was still alive--Hirako had put them all in front of him, and then he'd asked if Starrk could really go to his grave in peace.

The bastard had gotten his way in the end, and Starrk had never come as close to hitting someone unprovoked as he had right then. He'd been left the sole survivor once again, left to soldier on alone, and some days, he has no idea how he keeps going.

(Some days, Starrk had wondered, still wonders, if Shunsui had known his death was coming, or had known what would happen should his death come to pass, so he had made… arrangements accordingly. Most days, Starrk knows it's best not to know the answer because it would probably be the one thing he would never be able to forgive Shunsui for.)

So Starrk had hung on for another year and done his best for what was left of the Shinigami, for the dwindling pockets of civilians, for Kurosaki Ichigo. Anyone with eyes could tell though, that he'd just been waiting until the war was over one way or another, until the day he could lie down and not wake up again.

Of course, as it turned out, he wasn't even allowed that much, and a lifetime later, Starrk is still alive because death just won't take him, or he just won't die.

He has zero desire to even look at TBTP!Shunsui. The first time he has to anyway and sees two eyes instead of one, it's like a knife to the gut. They're lighter too, somehow, without the void of grief and exhaustion and quiet despair bruising their depths. His gaze still holds a weight to it, he's still loved and lost before, he's still lived a thousand years with all the joys and sorrows that entails, but he hasn't lost everything, hasn't lost those dearest to him, hasn't had to pick himself up and force himself to march on anyway towards a dead-end future, and for a moment, it's like Starrk is looking at a stranger.

He thinks, randomly, bizarrely, in those first few minutes of their second first meeting, that it's a good thing he always wears gloves when he goes out.

He thinks, madly, nonsensically, that if he were to touch this Shunsui now, it would stain him black with desolation, or red with blood that would never run dry.

He thinks, abruptly, hysterically, that he'd somehow forgotten the hole Shunsui had left behind with his death, as if the past year had numbed him so thoroughly that it had frozen even his grief in its tracks, except it all comes roaring back now, an empty pit that's always been waiting for him to remember it, threatening to drown him whole. Frankly, he would welcome it if he thought it would kill him once and for all.

It's frighteningly easy to pretend nothing is wrong. Perhaps it shouldn't be. He's never been one to emote outwardly, always been good at displaying nothing but impassivity without even trying, to the point where Shunsui had remarked more than once that it was difficult to read him (and then pouted and asked what Starrk was thinking - don't leave him out, it's hurtful - and he'd always want to know even when Starrk was clearly thinking of nothing important at all).

He greets this Shunsui politely, with the courtesy an Academy student should afford a captain, he makes smalltalk as necessary, he doesn't look at anyone in particular but also doesn't avoid anyone's gaze, and then he lets himself fall silent as Ichigo draws everyone's attention again with no deliberate effort whatsoever when he blows up at something his cousin says.

It's easy to fade into the background after that, to fade into himself, retreating into his own mind with the ease of long practice. Once upon a time, he could spend years like this, buried so deep in his own head that when he surfaced and became aware again, the sand dunes would've shifted and changed, and new mountains of bones would've already formed around him.

The few times eyes turn back to him, he nods in all the right places and responds at all the right times and pretends the world hasn't become white noise in his ears.

(He'd had these episodes a few times during the war, never when there was immediate work to be done or a fight to be fought, but in their downtime, it would sneak up on him. It had never lasted more than a couple hours at a time, but he'd scared the hell out of Shunsui the first time, had found himself at the Fourth when he'd woken, but then he'd explained, and Shunsui's expression had been unreadable but his eyes had looked pained. He'd shaken his head when Starrk had said he could leave him alone or just smack him out of it, either way he'd come back sooner or later, but Shunsui had refused, and every time it had happened after that, Starrk would wake with his head pillowed against Shunsui's shoulder or chest or thigh, Shunsui's arm wrapped around him or his bulk at his back and a blanket draped around them both, warm and comfortable and never alone.)

(He is alone again now, and he doesn't understand why it's so difficult to relearn something he had known for far longer than he hadn't.)

He's here to check Fujiwara's Hohou - Shunsui's cousin, Shunsui never mentioned her, she must've died long ago in the future - so he does that when he's cued and works her through the problem and suggests a few exercises, and that's that. He practically sleepwalks through the rest of this little gathering, barely manages to feel vaguely relieved when it looks like they can all finally part ways, and hazily wonders if he can get away with booting Ichigo back to his own room for the night. He's pretty sure he's going to end up scaring the kid if he falls even further into his own mind.

Then Shiba Kaien does him a favour out of the blue, nagging Ichigo until the kid snaps and irritably agrees to spend the night at his family's compound. Distantly, Starrk is aware of being invited as well, but that's easy enough to refuse, citing an exam in the morning - or maybe he says assignment due, he's not sure - and the Clan Head says next time then, and- and-

He blinks and it's time to go. Nothing seems amiss so he inclines his head at the captains and lieutenant, bids Ichigo and Fujiwara farewell, and then takes his leave in a flash of Shunpou.

Starrk has seconds to feel nebulously pleased with himself, another second to remind himself to avoid the Eighth like the plague from here on out, and then even that's gone as he locks himself in his room, and the rest of the night is lost. He is more than happy to lose it.

He'd had exactly zero presence of mind to catch the way Kyouraku Shunsui had been staring - if discreetly - at him the entire time, from under his hat or out of the corner of his eye, and by the end of the entire encounter, the man had even shaken his kimono over his hands to hide the way they'd slowly curled into white-knuckled fists.

Shunsui doesn't know how no one else had felt it, bleeding into the air like a severed artery--a bottomless chasm of loneliness and grief that had felt like it should've been screaming with the agony of it, except there'd only been the deafening silence of barren wastelands, an emptiness reflected in Starrk’s perfectly blank eyes and perfectly sculpted non-expression, and Shunsui doesn't understand why he alone had evidently just taken a metaphorical dive straight into the man's very soul.

(Starrk would've, if he'd noticed. After all, a lifetime ago, Kyoukotsu had loved bringing his wolves back to her soulscape to play with, and Katen had often visited his soulscape in turn for tea and conversation. His and Shunsui's souls had long learned to recognize each other, mingling in a way that had transcended all possible boundaries, and in the face of that, what did a little thing like time and space matter?)

When Starrk had left, Shunsui had almost followed, had wanted to with an instinctual sort of urgency he couldn't even explain to himself, let alone anyone else. Several times, he'd almost reached out while the others were talking, to provide comfort perhaps, or to take some of the pain even, and it had only been the equally intuitive certainty that doing so would break something in Starrk that had ultimately stopped him each time.

"Kyouraku, is something wrong?" Ukitake asks once the others are all gone, because of course his best friend had noticed something off with Shunsui, even if not with Starrk.

Shunsui reaches up and tugs on the brim of his hat and doesn't know how to explain that wrong could not even begin to cover whatever the hell had just happened.

His insides are still shuddering like they've been ripped out very slowly. He still wants to run all the way to the Academy this instant. And he feels-

He feels inexplicably like he's lost something beloved and doesn't know if he'll ever get it back.

[tanadrin]

you said you've lived most of your adult life outside america, but you're american. so how as an american do you get the fuck out, because i'm done, and even being in academia it feels like at least in my field, there aren't a lot of ramps out

went to university in ireland, did two years of a postgraduate degree that i did not finish, moved to berlin, got a freelance visa, then married an EU citizen, then got German citizenship via a family connection

you're right that there aren't a ton of ramps out. i wouldn't even necessarily recommend the "go to university overseas" route to many young people (i have a lot of student debt). but most immigration advice is necessarily going to be highly country-specific, even within the EU, and even fairly specific to the field you work in or your family history, if you have some kind of ancestral connection to a country that accounts for such things in its immigration law.

as far as personal advice goes, though--if you have a specific reason for wanting to move overseas (you always wanted to see the world, your boo is there, you're a huge weeb, etc.) i'd say go for it, even if it's a comparatively weak one; if you're just angry and frustrated at the state of american politics & society right now, be advised most european countries are not comparative utopias, face similar challenges in terms of housing and the rising far-right, and have the added challenges of doing worse economically (some much worse). moving countries can also be an incredibly lonely experience, especially if there's a language barrier, or you are a shy person, and if you have no friends or family there already.

there's a lot of upsides, too--i met my spouse in ireland! i met a ton of really awesome people both there and here in berlin. i feel as though i have just had a much, much more interesting life than i would have had, if i had stayed in my hometown. so just be clear-eyed about the tradeoffs. i wish you good luck anon.

[celestemagnoliathewriter]

Euphemia and James - Writer's Notes

Earlier this year I wrote a fic titled "Euphemia and James," a story exploring Euphemia Potter and infertility. This is the most deeply personal story I've ever written, and it took a few weeks to write it because of the emotions it stirred up for me, but honestly, being able to write this took years of processing emotions. I decided to share some of my notes on this fic in this post, and it includes this lovely cover image from @livelaughlovetoread. This story is also unique in that it's written in second person POV. It wasn't intended to come out that way, but that's how it came out. See below the image for my notes:

Euphemia and James came from these lines from the extra-canonical writings on Pottermore/whatever they call it these days:

"[Fleamont] sold the company at a vast profit when he retired, but no amount of riches could compensate him or his wife Euphemia for their childlessness. They had quite given up hope of a son or daughter when, to their shock and surprise, Euphemia found that she was pregnant and their beloved boy, James, was born."

If you don't know anything about infertility, I envy you somewhat. Studies have shown that a diagnosis or experience of infertility is similar to receiving a cancer diagnosis or losing a close loved one. It took me a while to realize that a lot of the feelings I had surrounding infertility was actually grief and mourning.

So, I put it all into this fic. There are a few points I want to highlight, if you decide to read the fic or want to see some lines, and my feelings around it all:

"When you meet Fleamont Potter a year into your job at the apothecary, you have no intention of marrying him."

I more or less shamelessly wrote Euphemia and Fleamont's relationship to be similar to mine with Mr C. In fact, Mr C aka @rawr-gorg-smash read this work and we were both sobbing messes by the end of it.

"It will happen when it happens, they say. It will come when you least expect it, they say. That’s what everyone says, and you’re ready to punch the next person in the face who tells you to just “relax.”"

Infertile people will get advice like this frequently. It's meant to be helpful or sometimes soothing, I think, but all too often it's an empty hope. Sometimes, bodies just don't work right, no matter how much relaxing you do.

"It’s not polite to ask. Everyone knows where magical, adopted children come from. They are Muggleborn children who are delicately extracted from their birth homes and replaced with Squibs, or sometimes not replaced at all."

This part is world building by me - the idea of adoption in a magical world seemed odd to me. How would infertile magical couples adopt if they can't use potions or charms? I wouldn't put it past them to just take a Muggleborn child, modify memories, and go. I won't touch on real world adoption-there's a lot to unpack there-but this idea gave me some thoughts on magical adoption.

"It seems selfish to want more, when you already have so much. You question, for the first time in your life, if you really want a child."

I have heard people say things to this effect: it's so selfish to want your 'own' children or to want children and bring them into this world, or some variation of that. If this is what you believe, you and I are going to disagree and I'm not going to try to convince you otherwise. But it's something I and many other infertile people have considered. The thing is, people have had children and will continue to have children throughout terrible periods of time. Does it make sense? Not necessarily. Human actions don't always make sense. To me, though, it speaks of hope. Hope for a better tomorrow, for a world that we will build that will be better for the next generation.

"Now you wish for a living child. There are no longer any expectations on your baby or the kind of person they’ll be. You want a living, breathing baby in your arms you can dote on, educate, feed, and guide through life."

I'll say that one of the few silver linings of infertility for me has been re-grounding my expectations of what kind of child I might have. It once was wishing for a boy or girl, or a kid who likes to read, or a kid who won't be into extreme sports, but now it's just a kid I want. I want to love them because they exist. That's all.

"It’s a shame that you only got nineteen years with your son, the one you wished had been born twenty years prior, so you could treasure twice as long with him."

One of my fears for having children later in life is not having enough time with them. Then again, young parents die. Even children die. If nothing else, whatever time I do have, I hope I use it to love whatever family I have to the fullest.

That's all I have for now. If you made it this far, read the fic, commented on it, left kudos, or a bookmark, thank you very kindly for your time. Of all the things I've written, this felt most like putting a piece of my heart into the world.

[theactualsunshinechild]

Seeing this post always immediately reminds me of a fun story from early on in my relationship that my partner and I affectionately refer to as

The Can Opener Incident

This was back in my college days. That semester I was living in a dorm that was more like a collection of small apartments on the very fringes of campus territory. My partner had come over to spend the night at my dormroom, and we were going about making some pasta in the little kitchenette. The pasta was already fully cooked and strained when we suddenly encountered a problem:

The canned pasta sauce I had bought was not a pop top, and rummaging around the kitchen for a can opener revealed that I had neglected to bring one.

Not one to settle for miserable, dry pasta on a cozy home date, I ran over to the dorm room next door and asked to borrow a can opener. They're a little startled to find someone knocking on their door at 9 PM, but they let me borrow it with no resistance. Upon bringing it back is when the problems truly began.

You see, all of my life I had used a can opener which you latched to the side of the can and twisted the knob to make the sharp ring cut into the top of the can vertically, parallel to the side of the can. This one looked similar, all the right parts were in the right places, so I gave it a shot... but nothing happened. My partner comes up and tells me I'm using it wrong, and I think to myself "oh, okay, so maybe he's used this kind of can opener before, I'll let him at it," and I hand it off to him.

The can opener my partner has used his whole life is the kind that you latch on to the TOP of the can, so instead of holding the handle at the side, you're holding it horizontally over the top of the can. I didn't know that kind of can opener even existed, so when he tried using this one his way, I looked at him like he was insane. This look quickly intensified as this method also didn't work. Things rapidly went downhill from there. He defensively explained the way his can opener at home worked, and I started pointing to the structure of the can opener and arguing why this one wouldn't work that way. We're a little frustrated, but it's nothing some pasta can't fix, so I propose I simply go over next door to the people who I borrowed the can opener from and ask them how to use it.

As I reached over to take it from him, he held it out of my reach.

"No! I'll figure it out myself!" He announced.

"What? Why? It's easier to just ask the owner," I argue, jumping around trying to get at the items.

"Because I can figure it out!"

Okay. Fine. I guess he wants to solve this like some kind of puzzle for enrichment. I give up and I wait. The fiddling begins. I'm standing there watching him try increasingly improbable methods of getting that thing to work over and over. The pasta is getting cold. He's testing methods that have already proven not to work, trying new methods that physically couldn't work, then trying the ones that have already failed us all over again. My stomach growls.

"We should really just ask," I grumble, hungry and frustrated.

"No, I've got this."

He does not fucking got this. I want my goddamn food and I do not have time for this puzzle solving.

"Give it here."

"No."

"I'm just gonna take it to the owners and ask them to show us how to use it, you can come with."

"No! I want to figure out out myself!!"

"And I want my food god fucking damn it!!"

This went on for a bit. The pasta was drying to the side of the pot and getting crusty. At some point during this yelling match I got so pissed off that I stormed out of my own apartment into the cold with no coat on.

'I need to make him see reason!' I thought to myself, making my way through the snow. One building over was where two of his friends were rooming together. I knock on their door, boiling with rage. It is 10 PM.

"Hey, can you come over? [Partner] is being completely unreasonable and obstinate over figuring out how a can opener we borrowed works and won't let me take it to the owner to ask. Please help me convince him to hand it over, I'm literally too short to wrestle it from him."

"Alright, let me grab my coat."

We head back over to my place to find my partner Still Messing Around with that godforsaken can opener.

"Let me see that for a second," says his friend, taking his coat off. I experienced a moment of relief, thinking to myself, 'Finally!' as my partner pouted for a second, but relinquished the can opener.

This peaceful glorious relief fizzled out into horror as his friend began to try to open the can the same way I had.

"That's weird. It really looks like it should work this way..." he mutters.

"Try it from the top, that's how my parents' works," my partner suggests.

"No no, that won't work, just give me a second to figure it out."

Oh my fucking god.

I stared blankly, watching them study the can opener and turn the can this way and that, both completely absorbed in finding the solution to this hour long problem. I was going to lose my fucking mind. Perhaps in that moment I really did. Shellshocked, I stood, wondering how it had come to this. I just wanted some fucking pasta and a relaxed night in, and instead I've gotten these goddamn STEM majors milling around in my kitchen at 10:25 PM arguing over how to use a can opener that isn't even mine. So I went and did what, in retrospect, I should have done ages ago: I went next door for help.

I can't imagine what my neighbor must have thought of me, showing up over an hour after borrowing their can opener, looking as if something inside of me had died, and, with a hint of desperation in my eyes, begging them tearfully to come next door and show us all how to use their can opener. Over an hour after borrowing it.

Well, whatever they thought of it all, they did oblige my pleas. Their arrival thankfully broke up the debate, and as all three of us watched intently as hawks over their shoulder, they cracked open that can of pasta for us.

Using it the exact same way I had tried at the start of it all.

It was just dull.

"I don't need a shopping list; with effort, I will remember that I need this item"

Okay but will you be able to remember that you already bought it? Because apparently I can't.

[tomahachi12]

Hello I love the murder drones virus au that your working on i definitely love how your giving it a infectious disease like pattern.in middle school before Covid I actually wanted to be a epidemiologist a person who studies the pattern of outbreaks of diseases,so I have a bunch of random knowledge on diseases so I’m loving this au.I also love how you are putting different stages of the illness and different side effects and the stages of transformation.

also what real life disease were you inspired by to make this au,to me so far it looks to be inspired by rabies considering that it’s transferred through bites and the infected individual is in a bit of agrresive like state?also if it is inspired by rabies do the infected experience something similar to that of hydrophobia that humans that get rabies experience?

also my question is uzi transforming into a bat cause that will be cool and very fitting if the virus is inspired by rabies cause bats here where I live in the US are the number 1 carriers of the rabies virus?also do the infected have traits left over from when they were infected like the body changes?one last question was the virus idea also inspired by that of stories of rabies from way back in the days where people thought people infected with rabies were werewolves and would transform after getting bitten?

anyway I hope you don’t mind this long message I just really love your au and I love learning about diseases and watching murder drones so this is one of the greatest aus I’ve came across combining two of my interests.keep up the great work.

oh goodness!

I'm glad you're enjoying the AU!

It was more-so inspired by the werewolf thing, but I can see how it could be similar to rabies as well!

as for the effects, no, they don't become hydrophobic. It's just a highly contagious data virus that only effects Solver drones, increases aggression (makes it easier to spread) and causes physical changes to their bodies,

mostly just werewolfy stuff (:

I'm a huge nerd for werewolf/transformation shit, it's just so much fun!

Uzi transforms into a bat cause it better fits with her Solver form having the bat wings anyway.

Even after being cured they may still have some lingering traits that stuck with them. V still makes biscuits and purrs (she gets embarrassed by it), N chews on things and sometimes get caught chasing his tail (though he probably already did all that before the infection), J idly whistles or chirps and starts using her wings more often. Uzi get a little more bitey and sometimes prefers to sleep upside-down, but she'll fall in the middle of the night/day whenever they sleep (N places pillows or a mattress under her or he'll join and hold onto her.)

[primus-why]

I Feel TFOne Could've Handled This Better...

Hot take but I feel like folks have been really generous with the take that OP was unable to find ~the perfect words~ in the heat of the moment (and thus should be given some grace) when he told D to stand down and "not be like Sentinel"... namely cuz I don't feel that the narrative supports this?

Like-- after all is said and done, OP doesn't reflect on that part of their split. He doesn't have a moment where he seeks validation or voices his regrets over the choice of his words, it's actually cut-and-dry. The narrative (as it stands) supports that OP saw D-16 acting up, so he called him out and stood on business, down to the last scenes where he's basically like "yeah it's a shame but y'all knew I had to do it to 'em."

It didn't have to be much! I'm not saying to absolve Megs, just show OP looking at things from a different perspective/contemplating a bit on that tough choice and the morality of the moment. Some examples of what I wish we had:

B-127 straight up blurting the obvious by later chatting with Orion like, "Wait so you told your best friend that he was acting just as bad as the guy who enslaved us for our entire lives and was torturing him like an hour ago? Oof. Seems kinda harsh." Then have some of OP's regret show on his face.

OP asking Elita-1 after Megs is banished if he did the right thing. Have Elita back his choice up, saying, "You should have seen what he did after you were... gone. It was terrifying. I know it was tough, but you made the right call." OP is grateful for the support, but a conflicted look still flashes across his face before he steels himself to look out towards the horizon... and the future.

Have OP walk past other mechs/former miners who didn't go with the High Guard saying stuff like, "Wish I could've given Sentinel a piece of my mind!" "Yeah, but I'm glad he's gone for good." "Ugh I miss everything." "Oh, it was crazy! Megatron picked him up and then he rrrrriiipped-- oops, hey there, Mr. Optimus... Prime... sir?" And have OP wave hello, looking a bit sick when they leave.

Post-credits scene with Starscream going on and on, asking Megs when they'll be back to teach the upstart Prime a lesson. Megs grabs his face to shut him up. "Patience, Starscream. The Prime thinks I'm no better than Sentinel... but I'll show him. He wants Iacon? He can have it. In the meantime we'll take the rest of the planet! Then I'll come back, crush Prime under my heel, and we'll take Iacon too. Sentinel's reign will barely be a footnote, because I'm about to become Optimus Prime's worst nightmare." The vocal performance would really need to sell this-- like picture Megs saying something like that from a place of anger and hurt, not so much a place of genuine evil or malice.

Basically instead of Orion's assertion being backed up as black and white/good vs bad, I wish we had some different opinions/reactions from the characters sprinkled in there. Like you can't tell me out of allllll the miners who weren't strong enough/willing to go with the High Guard and ended up sticking around that NONE of them were like "eyyo honestly?? Kiiiiinda glad Sentinel is dead. Wish I could have helped, tbh." like come onnnnn...

And you can't even argue that he's not an active threat-- I don't think everyone would see things that way! It's not just about the threat he physically has, but the threat he represents and is very likely to act upon if given the opportunity! He has a proven track record of not only being sneaky and conniving, but also capable of dealing some serious damage/killing people bigger and stronger than him, plus he has the backing of the Quints. All he'd need to do is wriggle his way out of jail and run off to his sponsors, then he'd probably be back to hurt more people! (If the Quints didn't just kill him out of incompetence lmao). There's a lot of "ifs" here, but I think it's a valid argument that not everyone would agree on what is the right or wrong way to handle Sentinel once he was down long enough to, like, do something about him.

I feel the situation needed a bit of nuance. In some way I wish they had kicked the can and had D and Orion bicker while Sentinel escaped, then have D get frustrated enough by the loss of Sentinel to point fingers (and his fusion canon) at Orion, who then falls and becomes OP. (Megs could still show some of thar emotion/remorse right after he does it too.) Not only would this open the door for a sequel, but tbh the Quint might have just killed Sentinel anyways and sought to deal with the miners uprising themselves lol. (Maybe that could have been an after credits scenes too instead of the B-127 bit??)

Would love to see a moment in a sequel where they have a calmer moment after arguing for a bit. Have OP mention how Megs was out of line, that it hurt and even scared him to see him act that way, and Megs can quietly point out "you said I was as bad as Sentinel... is that really how you see me? After everything we went through?"

Then OP can fumble the bag again lmao like "D, I... I'm sorry, that didn't come out right... but you still took things way too far..."

"Why am I not surprised-- your opinion is what matters the most! Maybe that's why you became a Prime, since you're so good at acting like the world revolves around you--!"

*gets interrupted by someone else before another yelling match ensues*

[beautifullilacsky]

I have been feeling weird these days. Frankly, just not great. Pretty bad. I have been belittling myself, trying to hide and disappear. What has helped me? Going for a walk by myself. Listening to an audiobook and realizing there are things that I enjoy doing and that make the time pass. Belasting music through my earplugs while in the bathroom, and looking in the mirror as I start to move my body and dance. Write with myself; so pure and vulnerable. So understanding and loving towards myself. I felt like myself again. I reflected on a drawing, where I added a text. I realized that I was, or am, trapped. I try to disappear, trying to hide from everyone. Hoping to protect myself from dissapointing people and being too much. From them leaving, or realizing they no longer love me. Then I went on to mention how lonely it is here, isolating me and who I am, while there is someone out there who does love me for me. It then turned into wondering why I am here. And why these leaves, in which I tried to disappear, are so heavy. I realize that I am no longer wanting to hide. Rather, I am trapped. Trapped into my own hideaway. Where the leaves are no longer lovingly embracing me, they are cutting into my skin. Reflecting helped me realize it, and realize I want to get out. And I have the power to do so.

Frankly, I want to be like in the gif every single day. I also honestly know that I could. I can find casual magic in everything. I can be so passionate about life and everything it has to offer. That feels like the true me. The one who experiences it all, and is grateful for it. Sure, the other parts of me are also me. But I feel my best when I am I that mood. The mood from the gif. My boyfriend is out right now, volleyballing until the very early hours. His roommate is also not home. It is just me, and gash. I am excited. I have already listened to music and danced, but I also ate too much and feel very full right now. Either way.. it is scary to be so me. To be so vulnerable and truly myself in front of someone. I know I can do it. I acted this way during our vacation. Why is it so hard to just be myself? To trust someone enough to be my true self? It's a safe space, babygirl. Sure, sometimes it hurts in this place. But don't you dare pull back because of it. I mean, to be fair, how could anyone ever do anything but smile when they see someone living life like that? What do I expect? The worst that could happen is that someone finds it interesting how you can enjoy and aren't ashamed in public. BUTO BE FAIR EH? WHHHHHYY IS IT SOMETHING TO BE ASHAMED OF? I fucking LOVE people who enjoy like that. I wish I could be surrounded by them. So baby, if the people around you aren't like that, okay and??? Be like that for yourself. He doesn't show his emotions the way you do? Okay and??? Let him experience his emotions the way he wants to. He can honestly count himself blessed to be with a person who can enjoy life so fully. Please, love this part of yourself. Well, you already do. But do it without shame. Do it proudly. Embrace it, truly. You have been taking everything for granted. It's time to be grateful, and be so without any doubt. Please, enjoy life the way you were meant to. Learn to be yourself, the way you are yourself when you are alone. He might not vibe on the same level, but that doesn't mean you should dim your own light. Yoyoyo, please learn to be yourself. Your silly, cute, life-enjoying self. I love the way you are , babygirl. So will he. And if he doesn't, that's big time his loss. Though, I'm pretty sure he loves this part of you, too. I know you love this part of you, so show off that you love her. She is yours. Show your love off by letting her out, the way you'd want someone to love this part of you. She deserves to come out and enjoy life with you. Whoever else is around. She feels safe with you. Please let her feel safe around him, too. He'd embrace her the way she wants to be embraced. Just like on our vacation. That you can still come out during the daily life without any judgement, you know?

[purpurussy]

.

[britcision]

Alright fuckers I took another stab at it and did the thing, I may/may not finish the actual like, proportionate version one day but he needed to exist and hair hides all my arm related sins.

Please dear gods anyone whose art is even a tertiary focus Lycion NEEEEEDS a Knot All Men shirt I am beset by cursed visions but usually I write them or make cursed little dolls (yes there will be a cursed little Lycion doll with a cursed little shirt but the embroidery thread is fucking fighting me on Mithrun so I dunno when)

Also he has a smoothie

Because one of the many reasons I really do not draw much is I am aphantasmic and do not and cannot visualize so let me tell you every single aspect of this except the shirt just. Happened. What are poses. What are limbs. Bodies exist but WHY.

The shirt had to be a crop top tho for legal reasons that was extremely clear to me

(Hey fun realization tiny Lycion and I feel exactly the same way about all his lil elf limbs they're all wrong and we hate them WAS MY MISTAKE NOT TRYING TO DRAW HIM AS A FURRY. Fuck. I think furries are harder but I might try it.)

[stellacadente]

sometimes i think i'll never heal from my trauma

[sealeneee]

siiiiiiigh

[seaofreverie]

Anyway. 150 days left until I see TMBG.