#and it's a shame that this is even a necessity in some cases in order to keep her career afloat

[youre-where-i-wanna-go]

it's so crazy to me when people defend copaganda or worse praise cops bc one is played by angela bassett when she herself has said playing one has not made her any less afraid of cops irl

like it's okay to love a character bc of their actress and still criticize when said character is used to downplay the violent institution that is the police

[c-t-r-l14]

Dontis Is Written So Amazingly Well.

It wasn’t a surprise when I found out he killed people. It was implied in the first episode we’ve seen him in that he did some things that he wasn’t proud of; and in the second episode, he even told the hunter that it was a shame he couldn’t get drunk, because there was some things things that he’d rather forget; even if it was for a little while. Him killing people in order to survive didn’t make him a bad person—and when you live a life as a being like Dontis or Xanthus—you will eventually get into situations where killing to survive or dying at the hands of your enemies will bring you an ultimatum.

What surprised me was that Dontis wasn’t always this wise and gentle.

Before this audio, I thought that he’d only kill out of necessity—that he’d exhaust all his other options first before he’d think about taking another person’s life. I thought that he’d always tried to help people out, make sure to protect the innocent when needed, and try to understand all the sides before he passes judgement onto other people. But that was never the case.

Dontis was once cruel. He had betrayed innocent people. Dontis was once selfish. He put other people in harms way so he could be able to live another day. He trusted no one, and was wary of the world. He wasn’t filled with faith, nor optimism, nor empathy, nor understanding.

He was not filled with love.

He did these things because in a world full of humans and supernaturals—one of them will try their hardest to be on top of the food chain. In this world, the strong survive, and the weak perish. In this world, it is kill or be killed. And as far as Dontis knew, there was no room for kindness or trust.

One of the things I really loved about this audio was that we were indirectly shown Dontis’ thought process when it came to him forgiving hunter listener for everything they have done. Before, he’d preach about how “all someone needs is a helping hand,” and, “sometimes, a little kindness goes a long way,” and while I do I agree with sentiment, I still couldn’t wrap my head around how exactly Dontis could be so forgiving to the people who had wronged him so badly. And now, because of this audio, I finally get it.

Dontis was in their place once, too.

He knows what it’s like to be filled with hate and spite; to drown in it and have it consume you—and rule your life. He knows what it’s like to take a life; he’s done horrible things too. The reason why he’s so forgiving is simply because he’s probably experienced what they’ve went through, too. And he feels like he can’t judge people because that’d simply make him a hypocrite—because he has done bad things, too. He had made terrible choices. Choices he will have to live with. Choices he will regret for the rest of his life. And when Dontis gives advice or comforts others, I get the strong feeling that he is trying to be the companion he wished he had during those first few decades of his life.

Another thing I really loved about this audio was how it showed that Hunter listener and Dontis are parallels of each other. Dontis was young, and full of spite and wariness. When he had met that Turkish woman, he really thought that she was going to be just like all the rest of the humans he’d met before her. He thought that she wouldn’t hesitate to sell him out if it meant saving her life—or that she’d use and abuse him, but that was never the case. She simply needed love. She simply wanted company. This woman single handedly showed Dontis that not every single human he was going to meet would bad person. And as ironic as it sounds, her actions made Dontis gain some humanity of his own.

When hunter listener finally caught and trapped Dontis, they were just like him when he was younger. They hated supernatural beings and killed them before even getting a chance to know them—simply because they knew WHAT they were without getting to know WHO they were. But, in a strange turn of events, it was Dontis who made them realize the truth. It was Dontis who helped them forget their pain for a little while; Dontis, who gave them a second chance at living a good life—free from all the violence and acts of terror they have committed. And it was Dontis who have given them a different perspective on the beings they have once despised and condemned.

The lady is to Dontis as Dontis is to the hunter.

I feel like Dontis’ story—all of the struggles, pain, and suffering he has went through in order to become the beautiful, loving, caring person he is today, really reminds people that compassion and empathy aren’t things you are born with; nor is hatred and spite. Those behaviors are learned and taught. And I have totally forgotten that—because up until today, I’ve only gotten to see the type of person Dontis has become, and never thought about the type of person he once was.

Saku’s mind—his ability to write characters with so much depth and development—is absolutely insane. And honestly, this audio makes me love and appreciate Dontis even more than before.

Masterlist

[usoppinggg]

Ships Ahoy! ch. 4

RELATIONSHIPS: Brook & Sanji

SUMMARY: Brook and Sanji go to buy some smokes and Sanji is jealous when Brook gets a pleasant surprise.

[read on ao3]

Perks of Being a Rockstar

The Straw Hats’ chef and musician walk the streets of their latest stop in the New World. Having already gotten necessities for the crew and tucked them away safely on the Sunny, they’re using the last couple of hours before the log pose resets to pick up some personal items.

“What else do you need, Brook?” Sanji asks as he sticks the last of his cigs into his mouth and lights it up.

“I’m looking for a new glass pipe for my, ahem, recreational herbs. My previous one was broken in a tragic accident.”

Sanji raises an eyebrow but doesn’t ask for details. 

“Couldn’t Usopp make one for you?” he asks. “I’m sure he’d be happy to.”

“Oh yes, I did ask him, but our dear sniper is quite busy with projects for our other crewmates at the moment, so he wouldn’t be able to get to it before we set sail again. I’m afraid I can’t wait that long, so I thought I’d accompany you on this trip.”

“He’ll probably end up making one for you, anyway,” Sanji snorts, a huff of smoke escaping his nose. “Or two or three.”

“Yohoho! Well, I certainly won’t complain if he does! I wouldn’t mind having a collection.”

The duo walk and chat for a bit longer before Sanji nods towards a particular store. “Smoke shop. Should have what we need.” 

They head inside the small store, looking over the paraphernalia placed safely in glass cases and lining the shelves on the walls. Brook is especially excited by the merchandise, pointing out the various products that catch his eye.

“Oi, don’t go crazy,” Sanji warns. “I’m not lending you any money if you go over your budget.”

“Stingy!”

Sanji loses interest in the goods pretty quickly, so while Brook continues to browse, he heads over to the cash register, standing behind the person already waiting by the counter.

An employee soon emerges from the back room and approaches the other side of the counter. She’s a pretty young woman who instantly gains Sanji’s attention. He not-so-patiently waits for the customer in front of him to be cashed out before it’s finally his turn.

“Hi, welcome in!” the employee greets with a sunny smile. “Did you find everything okay?”

“I found you, my sweet, so everything is amazing, ” Sanji fawns.

The woman’s smile instantly drops into something less friendly. “Right… are you planning on buying something?”

“I’d be honoured to buy a carton of Mistys from you, my dear. And a lighter of your recommendation, fi you please.” 

“Sure. Anything else?”

“Perhaps I can treat you to a lovely meal when your shift ends,” Sanji suggests with a smile.

The woman cringes as she rings up Sanji’s order, avoiding eye contact with the blond. “Sorry, I already have plans.”

“Ah, what a shame. I won’t fret–seeing your beautiful face is more than enough.”

“If you say so…”

At that moment, Brook joins Sanji at the counter. The woman looks at the skeleton and does a double-take–a common reaction he gets when encountering new people. To Sanji’s surprise though, the woman doesn’t express any sort of fear or uneasiness. Instead, a look of pure elation lights up her face.

“Oh my God! S-Soul King Brook!”

“Yohoho! The one and only! Good evening, my dear.”

“I can’t believe this! I’m such a huge fan! You’re like my biggest inspiration as a singer and songwriter,” she gushes.

“Oh, what an honour! I’m glad you enjoy my music! Y’know, it’s always good to see a fan. Though I don’t have any eyes to see you with, yohohoho!”

The girl gasps, eyes wide as she places her hands over her mouth. “Skull joke!” She squeals for a moment before she clears her throat and takes a second to compose herself, trying to maintain a semblance of professionalism. “How can I help you, Soul King?”

The skeleton points to one of the glass cases he’d been browsing. I’d like to purchase a few items from that case over there. Would you be so kind as to retrieve them for me?”

“Yes! Of course!”

The two speak amicably as they walk to the aforementioned case.

Sanji frowns and his eyebrows furrow as he realizes that he has been completely ignored and upstaged by Brook. Overcome by jealousy and unable to stand the sight any longer, he places his beri on the counter, picks up his bag of smokes, and makes his way out of the store, immediately putting his new cigarettes to use.

He impatiently taps his foot as he smokes, waiting for the damned skeleton to come out so Sanji can give him a piece of his mind.

A few minutes later Brook emerges, leaning into the store before the door can close.

“Goodbye, Valerie! Good luck with the music! And thank you for the gift!”

A feminine voice answers him and he laughs before exiting the store proper and joining Sanji by the curb.

“Ready to go?”

“This is bullshit,” Sanji immediately gripes, stomping his way back toward the Sunny. “Why do you get attention from beautiful women? You don’t even have any flesh!”

Brook just laughs jovially. “There are perks to being a rockstar, my dear Sanji. Many perks indeed…”

The chef watches as Brook reaches into his bag of goodies, eyes wide as the musician retrieves a scant piece of lacy, hot pink fabric and twirls it around the tip of his phalange.

“Are those...?”

“A pair of panties? Why, yes! And I didn’t even have to ask.”

Sanji grits his teeth so hard that the sound is audible. “I hate you.”

As Sanji stomps away, muttering curses under his breath, Brook just continues to laugh.

Perks to being a rockstar, indeed.

[josefavomjaaga]

Napoleon is a coward

At least as far as private matters are concerned. I always had suspected as much, considering how awkward he acted around Josephine until he finally told her he wanted to get rid of her. But the way he treated his brother is just shameful.

Napoleon to Berthier, Paris, 8 February 1810

My cousin, you will forward the enclosed decree through an officer to the King of Spain and to Marshal Soult, to whom he will deliver your letter. My intention is that all orders be given in accordance with this decree. I can no longer cope with the enormous expenses of my army in Spain. I want the administration of the conquered countries to be in the hands of the generals who command the provinces, so that all the resources are applied to the expenses of the army. [...]

The decree in question, imposed for financial reasons, basically stripped Joseph of his authority as king. As far as I get to understand from the letters DuCasse cites, at least some provinces were declared to be »under siege« as a whole, which basically put them under martial law and handed over all government functions to whatever marshal or general was in charge. However, it seems Napoleon did not even tell Joseph to what extent his authority had been annulled:

Berthier to Suchet, Rambouillet, 22 February 1810:

[...] The intention of the Emperor is that Aragon, which is put in a state of siege, should have the least possible communication with Madrid [i.e., with Joseph]. The fact that the province is under siege gives you full authority, and you must use all its resources to pay, clothe and feed your army. If, at last, the King were to give you orders, as General-in-Chief of the armies of Spain, with regard to the administrative part, only then must you make it clear that Aragon, being in a state of siege, forms a separate army receiving orders only from the Emperor. You sense well enough, Monsieur le Comte, that you should only make these dispositions known in the case of absolute necessity. His Majesty relies on you for the prudence which such a position requires, and he counts on your devotion to his person, and on your attachment to the French Empire. You feel that some parts of Aragon might be necessary for the new limits of France. This letter, Monsieur le Comte, is between you and me only.

[Emphasis by me]

Translation: Joseph no longer holds any authority in Spain – but try to not let him notice, so that he can have fun playing king some more. And be prepared that we at some point may just grab some territories away from under Joseph’s ass. Surely you fully understand how this is necessary, right? So – hush!

This is incredibly ugly, and it makes look Napoleon, and in extension Berthier (as he seems to have no problems with this duplicity), not look good. From now on Joseph would often be left completely in the dark, not even being told about the orders that Napoleon and Berthier gave directly to the marshals and generals governing the Spanish provinces. Which then resulted in a direct confrontation with those military gouvernors, in particular with the one who, technically, was Joseph’s chief-of-staff and thus was supposed to also be loyal to him:

Joseph to Berthier, Madrid, 25 August 1810

[...] The Marshal Duke of Dalmatia believes he can give orders below the Sierra-Morena which must be carried out exclusively to all others, these are his expressions. [...] If the orders from Sevilla can deprive me of the troops around Madrid, I am not sure that one of these mornings, when I wake up, I will not find myself a prisoner of the armed bands of Estramadura, Valencia or Siguenza.

And there again, like after the battle of Ocaña, we have the fear that Joseph’s own person might be in actual danger.

This cannot be the Emperor's intention: it is essential that his justice should express his will in a clear and strong manner.

It did, in a way, by moving the whole of the army administration to Sevilla and placing it under the command of Soult – who, independently from Joseph, also had complained to Berthier that the current situation, with everybody torn between the official authority of the king and the actual authority of the marshals, was unbearable. Joseph continues:

As for myself, I am ready for all the sacrifices compatible with my honour; but I cannot see myself treated in this way by Marshal Soult, who is no longer recognisable to me since the arrival in Seville of one of your officers who, according to what he told my royal commissioners, brings him the direct orders and instructions of the Emperor.

[Emphasis by me]

There we have it. Orders are given to the marshals and generals, Joseph is left in the dark about them, and then complains when these marshals and generals follow the orders they received. It’s as if Napoleon deliberately wanted to put Joseph in the most humiliating position, and as if he deliberately wanted to ruin any chance for Joseph’s kingdom of Spain to succeed by sowing as much tension and discontent as possible.

[kcarkwright]

A Protagonist's Secrets: Why they have them

Everyone has secrets; even those who prefer to live life open like a book has something they haven't shared with the world. A good way to propel your story forward is to give your Protagonist a secret, too. It can add complexity and a cause to their arc or choices, as well as give them something to lose.

But a secret shouldn't be established willy-nilly for your story; random secrets feel forced and won't drive the story forward if you don't connect it to the Protagonist's tale in some overarching way. So when you're deciding your Protagonist's secret, use these tips to see how you want the hidden to affect the known.

Secrets of Shame

These are the things that bring dishonor, victimization and ostracization. The Protagonist fears how the secret would affect their standing with the people they love and respect, if they'd look at them differently. This can, of course, be an entirely misplaced assumption. This isn't about what would happen, but what the Protagonist thinks could happen.

Ask yourself:

Would this secret affect their standing with their peers?

Would this secret cause Protagonist to become a pariah?

Would this secret reveal a trauma the Protagonist feels they could have changed the outcome of?

Secrets of Guilt

These are secrets of which throw the Protagonist's moral compass into question. Have you ever done something you're not proud of? Something you're worried that, if it came to light, the people you love would be disgusted by your choices? That's what a secret kept in guilt is.

THERE'S A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN GUILT AND SHAME. Shame is caused by a negative self-image, something the character has determined is wrong internally. It's their own predisposed opinion. Guilt is something reinforced by outside thinking, a morality exposed to your Protagonist by their community.

Ask yourself:

What about this secret is taboo in your character's community?

What about it violates their personal moral code?

What about it violates the moral code of those they care about?

Why did they make that choice?

Guilt and Shame go hand-in-hand, and it isn't uncommon for a secret to be kept because of both. I find it easier to categorize them by a public vs private criterion; guilt usually has some sort of public affliction to it, while shame is more 'privately' based.

Secrets of Necessity

Is there ever really a valid reason to keep a secret from someone? Your Protagonist may feel they need to keep a secret from someone to protect them, or to throw them off the trail of something important. Hiding that your best friend is going to be proposed to and hiding that you found out their beloved grandparent was a Nazi sympathizer both are kept because the Protagonist deems it necessary. This thinking can, and usually is, flawed. A proposal to someone not ready would save them the guilt of saying no, and knowing of their grandparent's dark ideas would keep them from seeming sympathetic. The secrets kept out of necessity will always involve someone else, usually directly.

Ask yourself:

Who is the Protagonist trying to protect? Why?

Is there something in Protagonist's career that requires them to keep quiet (like HIPAA)?

Would it destroy the perception of another character?

Would the information be used to hurt someone?

The way a Protagonist's secret is revealed should reflect a 'worst case scenario' in order to make the secret more enticing — especially if you don't plan on letting the reader in on the little bit of gossip, either. Secrets of necessity being brought to light are most impactful when they end up hurting that one person Protagonist was hiding it from; Secrets of shame should be brought to light against Protagonists will to keep them from being able to consent to sharing the secret in their own time. Secrets of guilt can be laid with getting caught in an immoral act, either in-time or long after the fact, usually with evidence.

[i-rationality]

Hello! for the longest time I've thought that I'm just "not good" at math, and that I'm just a creative type or something, but for the past few years I've been trying to brute-force my way through math drills and stuff to improve because I want to go into a STEM field. I've found that it doesn't work. I have, however, gained a kind of Stockholm syndrome for math, and I find myself wanting to know *more*. I feel like I'm missing out on something way beyond myself but idk where to even find that. So here i am. Asking a blog on tumblr for the secret math knowledge. If you have any resources that i could read about math that isn't just "here's how to do this" i would really appreciate it!!!

First of all, complete props to you for giving something that doesn't initially appeal to you, in this case, maths, a chance. Mathematics can be frustrating and even annoying, being an oftentimes nit-picky field. You can quickly realize that these are also the traits that grant the satisfaction and euphoria of mathematics. So don't forget to be proud of yourself for not disregarding mathematics as a whole and actually giving it a go.

Second of all, creativity is very necessary for maths. It is a shame that the educational system doesn't do maths justice (A Mathematician's Lament by Paul Lockhart is exactly about this). Mathematics is presented as something mechanical, force-feeding formulas and having students repeat them to find adequate results. That is not a fair portrayal of mathematics.

Different people will have different conceptions of what the learning of mathematics is or should be - I mean, for god's sake, mathematics hasn't even been defined properly and one expects people to know what to do with it. I can only tell you what I conceptualize mathematics, and its learning, to be. For me, mathematics is the boring work of examining multiple results and cases of the same formulas, it is the finding of patterns and attempting generalizations, it's the excited scribbles of formulas and the necessity of looking at a particular scenario from multiple perspectives. Most likely, the generalizations won't come easily, a minus sign will be forgotten making the following calculations obsolete, an approach to a problem will prove fruitless, and laborious work will be done only to find out there was a specific theorem that would have shortened the whole process. Patience is required for maths, and hopefully, you can now see that creativity is too, there is no shortcut to knowing where to look or what technique to utilize. As is the case with most worthwhile pursuits, and as you know from experience, mathematics is endlessly frustrating, but that also means it is endlessly fun.

Now, I do not have any secret math knowledge (or do I), what I can do is present you with some things that fascinate me and have led me to love mathematics as much as I do, outside of the conventional mathematics curriculum. 

Maths really comes down to practice, practice, practice... as many other things. I heavily encourage you to start playing around with mathematics a little bit. Olympiad mathematics kind of do that, (I, very conveniently, have a lot of posts about that.) as do many other math competitions. Maybe try out some exercises from your national olympiad and, with no judgment, because this is just to have fun, play around a bit. Disregarding the conventional maths you know, test out your logic, laugh at mistakes and losses of time, and feel that happy rush when a conjecture you reach, or part of it, is correct.

In terms of the resources, I opted for a mix of funny math history moments and some actual mathematics, in no particular order. Prepare for confusion. ↓

0. How Mathematics is enjoyable

No better way to start than with the reasons mathematicians decided to dedicate a good portion of their lives to the subject, or why some people just enjoy mathematics. This is something that greatly interests me, I always love to see people’s passion for their interests, hence this post, where you’ll find many people’s reasons for enjoying mathematics. 

Andrew Wiles answers “What does it feel like to do maths?” - (video) - Andrew Wiles is a mathematician who proved the theorem which had been taunting mathematicians for centuries, famously known for being the subject of the third point of this same post, explains peoples’ distaste for maths and his own experience with the subject.

YouTube Stories: Learning Mathematics with Wootube by Eddie Woo - (video) - Eddie Woo is a wonderful mathematics educator as well, who videotapes his lessons (available on Youtube). This serves as an introduction to him and his channel.

Mathematics is the sense you never knew you had by Eddie Woo - (video) - In his TEDx Talk, Eddie starts by explaining his distaste for maths in his school years, mentioning his low scores and lack of interest, and how, despite this, he ended up as a maths teacher.

Reddit asks: “Why do you love maths?” - Another compilation of people’s explanations for their mathematical interest. Wholesome content ahead.

-

1. Intro to a new perspective on mathematics

Taming, claiming and reframing the beast that is mathematics  by Vinay Kathotia - Small article related to the portrayal of mathematics by most and by mathematicians themselves.

On proof and progress in mathematics by William P. Thurston - Mentioned in the previous article, 17-page 

Anyone Can Be a Math Person Once They Know the Best Learning Techniques by Po-Shen Loh - (video)

-

√2 . The Pythagorean Cult

I’m sure you’re aware of Pythagoras and his fetish for right triangles, but do you know about his weird cult? That’s right, Pythagoras was the founder of Pythagoreanism, a cult based on the teachings and beliefs held by him and his followers, the Pythagoreans. - very original naming ik.

Here’s and article about them. A really popular myth related them is the throwing of Hippasus into the sea as a punishment for “believing” (i guess) in irrational numbers.

The unreasonable man by Vinay Kathotia, further explores the irrationality of the square root of 2, allegedly identified by Hippasus, providing some proofs of it. 

Proof: √2 is irrational by Khan Academy (video) - Because Khan Academy rarely misses.

The Madness of Pythagoras by Kayla Mahoney - Did you know Pythagoras refused to eat fava beams,  because he claimed they contained the souls of the dead? Now you do, and there’s no going back >:).

-

2. The base tools of mathematics

Introduction to Mathematical Thinking by Alexandru Buium - Pretty self-explanatory title, simplistic and general apprach to mathematics starting with the essential, logic.

The Five-fold Path to Mathematical Wisdom by Vinay Kathotia - Article about five different approaches to mathematical problems/representations.

How to think like a Mathematician by Kevin Houston - Really useful book, starts with certain study skills and develops to the logic involved in mathematical thinking, explains theorems, definitions and proofs! Highly reccomend.

How to Think Like a Mathematician by Eugenia Cheng - (video)

-

3.  "I have a truly marvelous demonstration of this proposition that this margin is too narrow to contain."

Yup, this is about Fermat’s Last Theorem, which took 350 years to be proven.

I’m guessing you’ve come across some jokes about it, how could one not. Essentially, in the 1630′s, our man Pierre de Fermat jotted down the conjecture (fight me, no proof no theorem) that states that no three positive integers a, b, and c satisfy the equation a^n + b^n = c^n for any integer value of n greater than 2, along with the sentence "I have a truly marvelous demonstration of this proposition that this margin is too narrow to contain.". The paper which contained this was only found after his death, and, as far as we know, he never got around to actually writing the proof. Because of this, we call this statement Fermat’s Last Theorem.

Andrew Wiles was who ended up proving Fermat’s Last Theorem, in 1993, after six years of working secretly on the problem. (Imagine your dirty little secret being working on revolutionizing an entire field of study, what a guy honestly.)

Fermat's Last Theorem - The Theorem and Its Proof: An Exploration of Issues and Ideas [1993] - Documentary about the theorem and its proof, as told by Andrew Wiles himself.

-

4. Functions

Honestly functions are just a very needed side of mathematics that can be applied to pretty much everything. You’ll find them in your average mathematics curriculum and in your everyday life, if you know where to look.

Introduction to functions 

Introduction to Mathematical Reasoning - Numbers, Sets and Functions by  Peter J. Eccles

Functions in the Real World - Education World

- This is definitely a more theoretical part of the list, I am sure you’ve encountered functions before and the resources you have musn’t be terrible. Look into these if you find the necessity, but again the “math secret” really is practice. They can be interesting reads though.

-

5. Möbius strips and Klein bottles

The wondrous world of ✨one-sided objects✨.  Learn about these cool looking objects and the field they originated, topology.

The Mathematical Madness of Möbius Strips and Other One-Sided Objects by  David Gunderman and Richard Gunderman 

Intro to Topology by Alex Küronya - Decently advanced maths, I don’t know what level of maths you’re learning, but honestly only read this if you have a pretty thorough backgroung in maths and you’re enrolled/very interested in the field.

Möbius Strip - Cool graphics, cooler maths.

Klein Bottles on Numberphile - Because Numberphile never misses.

-

6. The Chicken McNugget Theorem

Yes, you did read that right, No, this is by far not the only theorem with a weirdly funny name*. This theorem derives from a 1800′s math problem.

Explanation of the theorem by Xavier Lien

Chicken McNugget Theorem - Art of Problem Solving

Another explanation, if needed by Mike Beneschan

*Proof: Reddit asks: “ What's the funniest theorem name you know? ” - Literally a gold mine, read this. 

-

7. Godël’s incompleteness

One of the essential works of Modern Logic. His theorems destroyed the search for a mathematical theory of everything, at the mere age of 25.

Gödel’s Incompleteness Theorems -  Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy

The paradox at the heart of mathematics: Gödel's Incompleteness Theorem by Marcus du Sautoy @ Ted-Ed (video)

How Gödel’s Proof Works - Quanta Magazine

Gödel: His Tragic Life Story by Aimee Lamoureux - (TW: Sensitive themes)

-

8. Mathematics is an art, actually

I’ve seen many people stray away from the sciences because they’re “creatives” or “arts people”. Hopefully you’ve gotten at least a glimpse of the creativity needed in mathematics - if you didn’t, that is totally on me and I’m sorry. 

I don’t doubt that you may be a “creative type”. We actually need creatives, more than anything, in this field. I thought the perspective of mathematics as an art mignt be a good ending note.

Why Math is an Art, Not a Science by Peter Flom

Why the history of maths is also the history of art by  Alex Bellos - He also wrote the book  “Alex’s Adventures in Numberland”, which I own and have read. It’s a pretty sweet book, it has my stamp of approval if you’re interested.

Math and Movies (Animation at Pixar) - Numberphile - On the mathematics behind the art of animation.

Art and Math: Aesthetics of Calculations by Rute Ferreira (DailyArt Magazine)

-

Besides this I’m also leaving a list of youtubers/authors that are worth looking into. :) 

∞. General resources:

Math-related Youtube:

Numberphile - Have different concepts explained to you in a seemingly personal and almost always funny manner.

3Blue1Brown - Maths explanations paired with excellent visual representation of the concepts.

Reducible - As they put it “Reducing problems to their simplest form.”. Also paired with really good animations.

Websites:

Art of Problem Solving

Blogs/Articles:

Cantor’s Paradise - I’ve linked a few articles published there throghout this post. Essentially, different authors publish math articles in this online space, varied and generally well-written about topics.

Alex Bellos for The Guardian - Puzzles and mathematical articles.

Mathblr Blogs - Check the notes of this post to find a lot of them.

Games:

Nerdle - Math Wordle

(...) - Please reccomend more resources below, I’m not the most well-versed on these subjects.

-------

Hopefully, you now find maths a little sweeter, funnier, or comprehensible. As with most things, people lead math discovery, and there’s absolutely no reason you’d be unable to be part of that group. 

Mathematical problem-solving is something really frustrating but also immensely fun and rewarding. Please look into it, be it olympiads or general problems you find online, don’t take yourself too seriously and have fun with maths! Mathematics doesn’t judge, people do. I wish you well on your math journey! Hopefully, you’ll love it.

P.S: Feel free to add to this post with any math stuff you think is interesting. The more, the merrier!

[strawberry--bride]

DIABOLIK LOVERS Haunted Dark Bridal ー Sharon’s Route [PROLOGUE]

Monologue

The most painful thing in this world,

is losing your home. Your place-to-be.

No matter how dire the situation,

if you are surrounded by people who love and care for you.

No obstacle is invincible. 

Then ーー Where do I belong?

Having long lost the place I once considered home.

I spent many years in a place which would provide for me. 

I had food, a roof above my head, a warm bed to sleep in at night.

But could I truly call this my home? 

Those doubts would lurk in the back of my mind, keeping me up at night.

Until one day, I was made a special offer. 

If I complied, I would be given the thing my heart longs for the most.

ーー A new home.

Location: Sakamaki Manor ;; Outside

Sharon: This is the place, right...?

( Woah...Amazing. I’ve never seen a house quite this big. They even have a garden! )

*Knock knock*

Sharon: Excuse meー! My name’s Sharon. I’m supposed to move in here today! 

...

...

( No response...? How strange. They should have been informed through the Church. )

*Knock knock*

Sharon: Hello...? Anybody home...!?

Sharon: ( What to do...? There doesn’t seem to be anyone home right now. It’s already getting dark. I can’t just stand here all night either. )

*Creaaaaak*

Sharon: ...Huh? Did the...door just open by itself?

( Does that mean I can go inside? I feel a little hesitant just entering someone else’s home butーー I was told I could live here so it should be fine, right? )

She enters the manor.

 Location: Sakamaki Manor ;; Entrance Hall

Sharon: Just as I thought, the inside is equally spacious. I can’t imagine just one person living in such a large house all by themselves. Cleaning must take quite some time as well.

She puts down her suitcase.

*Thud*

Sharon: Phew...

( ...It’s so quiet. Almost as if the house is deserted. I wonder if the owner is out at the moment? In that case, I should probably wait in the living room. )

Sharon looks around.

Sharon: I guess it’s...that way?

*Rustle*

Sharon: ...!!

( I...Did I just...step on something? It felt...strangely soft and... )

???: ーー Oi.

Sharon: ...Kyah!

Sharon: ( A person...!? Oh my gosh. I just arrived here and the first thing I do is step on someone! )

???: ...

Sharon: I’m terribly sorry! I didn’t think there would be someone lying on the floor and...!

( ...Speaking of which, what were they doing down there anyway!? ...Sleeping? No way, right? When you have a house this large, you definitely don’t need to use the floor as a bed... )

???: Haah...

Sharon: Oh no! Are you feeling ill, perhaps? In that case, I shall call a doctor right away!

???: ...You’re loud. How am I supposed to enjoy my Rachmaninov when you’re screaming the place down? 

Sharon: Rach...mani...? ...E-Either way, if you’re not feeling sick, then what were you doing on the floor?

???: Wasting his time away listening to music rather than making himself useful, per usual, I would assume. Well, I suppose it is best not to have any expectations of this man in the first place, as he will only let you down in the end.

Sharon: ...!? 

( A voice...? Out of nowhere...!? )

Sharon: ...Wah!!

( Where did he come from...? )

???: Now, who might you be?

Sharon: Ah...I’m sorry! My name’s Sharon. I’m an orphan at the Catholic orphanage downtown. I was told by our related Church that the resident of this manor has been so kind to take me in. Are you...perhaps the owner?

???: ...I see. It seems you are the next...sacrifice.

Sharon: Excuse me?

???: Nothing. I was simply talking to myself. ...Ahem. My name is Sakamaki Reiji. The second eldest son of this family and one of the residents here. ...The man you had the ‘honor’ of meeting earlier is Shuu. While you may not suspect so given his deplorable behavior, he is - quite unfortunately - my elder brother.

Sharon: Reiji-san...and Shuu-san, was it? It’s a pleasure meeting you both!

Shuu: ...

Reiji: I assume that is your luggage over there? A room has been prepared for you. We will have one of our servants bring everything upstairs.

Sharon: Thank you very much!

( Thank god...So there wasn’t any mistake after all. )

Sharon: Oh! Right! I actually brought a little gift with me! They’re homemade muffins I made this morーー

*CRASH*

Sharon: ーー ning...!?

Startled by the loud noise, she drops the box with muffins.

*Thud*

???: YOU FUCKIN’ BASTARD!! I swear once I get my hands on youーー! 

???: Ahaha! I can’t believe you actually fell for that one! Lame-o!

Reiji: ...

Shuu: Haah...

Sharon: ( H-Hold on, hold on, hold on! Eh? Eeeeh!? I’m not dreaming, right!? That person just punched a hole through the wall!? )

Reiji: Ahem. ...Allow me to introduce. The one who destroyed the wall is the youngest son, Sakamaki Subaru. Next to him is Sakamaki Ayato, the eldest of the triplets. 

ーー You two, explain this situation at once!

Ayato: ...Che. Reiji. I didn’t do anythin’! Not my fault that Subaru ate those prank chocolates I left out on the kitchen counter.

Subaru: Fuck off! You definitely did that on purpose! ...I can still feel my mouth burnin’...!!

Sharon: ( ...Prank chocolates? I guess he means those filled with mustard and other spicy condiments, right? I didn’t know people actually bought those. )

Ayato: Of course! I was hopin’ to catch Kanato. Can you imagine what kinda face he would make when poppin’ one of those bad boys in his mouth?

???: ...Say, did you hear that, Teddy? ...I hope Ayato sleeps with one eye open tonight. He might just run into...unfortunate accident.

Sharon: ...Eh!?

( Another person just appeared out of thin air!? )

Ayato: Keh. The lunatic’s here.

Reiji: Sakamaki Kanato, the middle triplet. 

...Kanato, If you wish to commit a homicide, please do so outside of the walls of this manor. It takes forever to remove blood stains from the carpet.

Kanato: I don’t recall having to take orders from you.

ーー However, you’re lucky as I happen to be in a good mood right now. I believe I heard someone mention muffins? 

Sharon: ...Ah, yes! I made these myse...Huh? ...Oh.

Shuu: It’s not blood, but I think the carpet will need some cleaning regardless.

Reiji: Good grief...

Sharon: Oh no...! The box must have slipped from my fingertips when I heard the sudden crash and...

Ayato: Ah-ahー Look what you did, Subaru. It’s always the youngest child causin’ trouble.

Subaru: HAAH!? All of this started ‘cause you left those stupid chocolates out!

Sharon: ...They turned out really good too. What a shame.

Subaru: ...!! ...O-Oi...You...Um...My bad.

Kanato: ...Unforgivable. 

Sharon: Eh?

Kanato: ...HOW WILL YOU MAKE THIS UP TO ME!?

Sharon: ( W-Why is he getting upset at me all of a sudden!? It was obviously just an accident!? )

Um...I’m not sure...I could make some new ones later?

???: There, there, Kanato-kun~ Relax! Even if the muffins were wasted, there’s a delicious snack just waiting to be devoured...

*Rustle*

Sharon: ...!

( Someone wrapped their arms around me from behind!? )

???: ...Right here~ ...Nfu~

Sharon: ...Eh!?

( I-Is he talking about me!? )

Reiji: ...And finally, the youngest triplet, Sakamaki Laito. 

Ayato: Oi, Laito! No way you’re gettin’ the first taste again! I still haven’t forgotten last time!

Laito: Eeeh~? It’s not my fault you’re so slow, Ayato-kun~ However, if you’re so insistent on taking a bite out of her, I wouldn’t mind sharing, you know? I’m sure it’d make for a refreshing and thrilling experience~

Ayato: Geh! In your dreams, you perv!

Sharon: ( Taste? Bite...? Why are they talking as if I’m their food!? )

Excusーー

Shuu: ...Strawberries.

Sharon: Eh?

Kanato: What are you talking about? I don’t see any strawberries around.

Reiji: Shuu. Explain yourself.

Shuu: Your panties. They had strawberries on them.

Sharon: ...!!

( When did he...!? Ah! When I stepped on him...! )

Ayato: Pfftー!! Strawberries! How old are you, five? That’s hella lame!

Laito: Hm...~ Strawberries are not bad but with such a lovely body, I’m sure you could pull off something a little more erotic~

Subaru: ...

Laito: Oh, my bad~ I forgot baby bro was in the room. I suppose talking about a woman’s underwear is still a little too much for him to handle.

Subaru: S-Shut up...!!

Reiji: ...Enough! No more on this topic! ...Haah. Is it really that much to ask for you lot to behave? Just for one day?

Ayato: ーー Anyway, Reiji. Who’s this chick anyway? Tonight’s dinner?

Sharon: D-Dinner...!? I’m sorry but...Why are you all talking as if I’m food or something!?

Ayato: Shut it! Nobody asked for your opinion, Ichigo Pantsu.

Sharon: I-Ichigo paーー!? I have a name...! ...It’s Sharon.

Ayato: Yeah, yeah. I-chi-go Pa-n-tsu.

Laito: Hm~ This Bitch-chan does smell sweet just like strawberries. Perhaps I should call you ‘Ichigo-chan’ instead~?

Kanato: She really does. I’m sure her blood would taste just as sweet...Oh? What’s that, Teddy? You’d like to have a taste? Fufu...Good idea. I was just feeling a little peckish myself.

Reiji: Haah...I shall be in my study room. ...Ayato, Kanato, Laito. Please treat our new resident with some respect. It would be a shame to lose another one so soon.

Sharon: ...Wait, please! I’m afraid I don’t quite grasp the situation yet!

Reiji: Haah...Good grief. You must not be very smart, are you? Did you truly believe you would be allowed to stay here for free?

Sharon: ...Eh?

Laito: Nfu~ He’s right, Ichigo-chan. Everything in this world comes at a price. In your case...That would be the delicious blood pumping through your veins...

Sharon: M-My blood...? 

Ayato: Heh. You seriously haven’t realized?

Kanato: Teddy...Humans are truly so foolish, aren’t they?

Subaru: Che...Stop beatin’ ‘round the bush already and just tell her.

Shuu: We are Vampires. So the only thing a human such as yourself would have to offer, is your blood.

Reiji: In return, you will be allowed to stay here in this manor. Food, clothes and all other daily necessities willl be provided as well.

Sharon: Vam...pires? That must be some sort of joke, right? It was the Church who arranged this place for me! They would neverーー! 

Besides...Vampires only exist in fairytales!

Reiji: Good grief. This is why I simply cannot deal with humans. Not only are they incredibly foolish, they are horribly naive and trusting as well.

Subaru: In other words, you were set up. Just deal with it.

Sharon: ...

( No way, right...? This has to be some sort of mistake? Or a bad dream...? )

Shuu: Pwaah...Anyway, you guys do as you please. I’m going to my room to nap.

Subaru: I’m leaving too.

Reiji: Well then, if you’d excuse me now.

The three of them leave.

Sharon: ...

Laito: Oh dear~? Is that despair I see in your eyes? You poor little thing! Don’t worry, Laito-kun wil make sure to comfort you. After all, there is no better cure for betrayal than pleasure.

Ayato: Don’t be so down, Ichigo Pantsu! It’s not that bad of a deal! You get to offer your blood to Yours Truly after all!

Kanato: Fufu...I’m sure we’ll get along just fine. If you’re lucky, you might even make it into my precious collection one day~

Sharon: ...!!

She suddenly pushes them away.

*THUD*

Ayato: ...Woah!?

Laito: ...Aah~ Not bad, Ichigo-chan! I like myself a feisty girl at times!

Kanato: Ugh! ...What are you doing!? I nearly dropped Teddy just now.

Sharon: ...

She runs upstairs.

Location: Sakamaki Manor ;; Hallway

Sharon: Haah, haah, haah...

( Say, God...? )

( Is this my penalty...? )

( Are you punishing me for my crimes of the past...? )

Monologue

I just kept on running and running.

As said question repeated itself inside my head.

That must be it.

Those guys were exactly right. 

Humans are foolish. I was foolish. 

Foolish to believe I would be given a new home.

After all, people like me.

ーー They don’t deserve a happy ending.

ーー PROLOGUE: END ーー

[ Dark Prologue ] ->

[flickeringart]

Short natal chart reading

You asked specifically about your communication style, so I’ll cut to the chase.

Mercury is in Scorpio, which makes your quite impactful, purposeful and potent – you are likely very observant and able to read between the lines. You know the value of information and the impact it can have if revealed at the wrong time or presented in the wrong context or in the wrong way. You’re likely to want to keep your thoughts to yourself and only reveal selected parts to selected people – even if you do reveal yourself it is never the whole picture. You enjoy ambiguity to an extent, although there’s unease relative to what people might keep from you. You reserve your rights to be suspicious at all times - nothing is what it seems. The common stereotype for having Mercury in Scorpio is the “detective”. You might not want to leave any stone left unturned in your thinking process – which can take you into quite complex and intricate trains of thought on a daily basis.  Since Mercury is conjunct the Sun, you derive a sense of self from your thinking – which can be both good and bad. Good because you feel that you are standing behind every word and thought that occupy your mind, bad because you might have a hard time differentiating yourself from your thinking. You might feel that your way of communicating is very much a reflection of who you are. This is not the case for everyone. Your Sun and Mercury are in the 1st house of Self, which means that you show up as your authentic self – people see you in your outward projected persona and what you think is a big part of who you are.

Your Sun-Mercury conjunction forms a strong square to Jupiter in the 11th. It might be that you find yourself blocked from accessing the freedom and optimism that you crave because it seems to contradict your way of communicating – even your sense of self. It would seem that, you have to spread yourself thin in order to socialize and be involved with a lot of people and causes, it would seem that you have to exaggerate to the detriment of your own innate caution and need for privacy which is natural to Scorpio individuals. Perhaps you feel that in order to have some chance of luck when interacting with people, you can’t be yourself all the way. You can’t display your true self with your friends and your network because in that sphere, you would feel the need to be purely optimistic open to experience. In your life, there’s expectance of good things to come, perhaps to the point of it being unreasonable – you might exaggerate your optimism in order to compensate for your innate caution and awareness of the impermanence of life. You put your faith in collective aspirations and although you might reap the benefits on one level, on another level you might feel frustrated that you’ve lost yourself to the group – in other words, what you gain from associating with people and forming connections is not allowing you to be yourself and communicate your opinions and thoughts in the way you would want to. Chiron in your 3rd house emphasizes the fact that you have to take a philosophical approach to cope with non-redeemable difficulties in communicating. What these difficulties and issues are exactly is impossible for me to say, possibly it has to do with the ignorance and lack of awareness of people around you – too much discipline or lack thereof in school, too much strictness and demands on how to interact, behave and think. Chiron is in Capricorn, which suggests that you would’ve felt debilitated in your ability to apply yourself effectively in your studies, feeling judged and inferior because of regrettable yet inevitable circumstances.

Saturn is in Gemini in the 9th house. It is also the ruler of your 4thhouse. It would seem that education and knowledge were promoted in your home growing up, not necessarily for the purpose of your own interest and self-fulfillment, but for the purpose of succeeding in society and developing your intellect. Saturn is in retrograde, which usually means that the native is hard pressed to personally undertake challenges for the sake of growth because they might not come on their own – and if they do, they are rarely conducive to goal of being responsible and self-reliant. In other words, you would need to push yourself and put yourself in situations that require effort, consciously. Since your question was specifically about communication, I should say that Saturn in Gemini points to insecurity and a sense of lack in mental abilities that might lead you to put on a charade of wit in order to not reveal your struggles. This is not beneficial although it’s understandable that there’s a hesitant attitude to be open an accepting of one’s insufficiencies. It’s fine to hide behind a coping mechanism as long as one is working on developing oneself from the ground up at the same time. Be honest and real with yourself in your struggle. There’s no shame in admitting to where one’s at and working toward betterment. Getting over the fear of intellectual failure is hard, yet you should keep in mind that you’re only ever truly accountable to yourself despite external authority trying to instill feelings of guilt or shame. Humility is the best antidote to prideful concealment of lack.

Your Moon in the 4th house in Capricorn points to a home with an emphasis on discipline instead of softness. The natural ruler of the 4th house is the opposite sign of Cancer, which has to do with mutual dependence and emotional nurturing within the home. Capricorn as the 4th house ruler is tough because you probably had to work to get your needs met. With your Moon in this sign and in this house, you might’ve adopted the attitude that nothing is for free and that you had to put aside your feelings in order to have a chance of stability and security in the long run. In any case, your home environment growing up was certainly serious. Neptune also sits in this house, squaring your Sun-Mercury conjunction. Perhaps it’s not too presumptuous of me to suggest that you had to blend in to the detriment of your own sense of self and your own mental assessments and opinions. With Neptune in the 4th there’s usually intense idealization as well as sensitivity to the environment and a need to blur the edges in order to cope with the less refined aspects of reality. You seek and sought complete merging within your family home, yet your yearning probably made you feel frustrated with yourself because you could never quite attain the love (Neptune square Venus) or the recognition of yourself that you hoped for (Neptune square Sun-Mercury). Your Venus in Scorpio is also in retrograde which means that external socializing, displays of love and affection was “lost on you” since you have a hard time with real understanding of what underlies social interaction. You might struggle with general unhappiness because of this, but your task is to cultivate the inner experience of satisfaction rather than seeking it in the external. Since you’re a Libra Rising, Venus is your chart ruler and it’s in its detriment in the sign of Scorpio. Your idea of beauty is tainted with themes of passion and intensity; you might enjoy reveling in the darker undercurrents, the things that are shocking, a bit taboo and forbidden.

Your Mars in in Libra, conjunct your Ascendant on the 12th house side. Mars is in the sign of its detriment, quite diplomatic and socially accommodating. Your way of asserting yourself is always aimed at being reasonable in light of the social setting and circumstance you’re in. Since Mars is in the 12th, you assert the will based on universal emotional longings that are common to every human being. You might never fight or argue on behalf of selfish agenda, it’s always in favor of trying to restore equilibrium and an experience of being emotional fused. You probably feel that anger is abstract energy and available for use, but it’s not to be employed on behalf of your separate self. Planets in the 12th can sometimes point to passed down familial issues, in the case of Mars here, personal drive and anger is “stuck in the ether”, unconscious and/or given up to live its own life “back stage”. Aries, the sign ruled by Mars, is in the 7th house, pointing out that you probably encounter your “shadow” (disowned qualities) of anger, selfishness and self-motivated action in other people. In addition, Lilith sits right on the Descendant in Aries, which suggests that you find other people irrationally independent and overly attached to getting their own way. You might even find that you compulsively display these traits in interaction with other people because you feel that you are going to be deprived of your chance to do what you want. You’re likely to feel deprived of your individual potency with these placements and you might come off as obsessively independent in relationships with other people for this reason. The whole dynamic stems from a feeling having to sacrifice personal interest and it often backfires in radical self-absorption and self-motivated action.

Let’s take a look at Pluto, your Sun ruler. It’s in your 2nd house, trine Jupiter and sextile Mars. You’re likely to be quite possessive fearfully protective of your material resources, which includes money and finances. You might be quietly and covertly acquiring your material necessities, or avoiding it all together because of the constant paranoia and threat of the rug being pulled out from underneath you. You don’t trust that you’re going to have enough for yourself to be content, ever, so you might be quite powerful and persevering in your quest for value. Pluto and Scorpio have a lot to do with impermanence and expecting crises to envelop without a moments notice so you’re always “on your toes” internally, scanning for potential chaos to break lose, especially as it relates to loosing what you value on a purely material level. This is especially true since Scorpio rules your 2nd house and Pluto is placed here. The Pluto-Jupiter trine would denote a strong sense of faith and confidence in your ability to survive ordeals, perhaps due to your sense of being part of something larger than yourself (Jupiter in the 11th house).  You might be concerned with how to regenerate faith and find value in seemingly “dead matter”, metaphorically or literally speaking. Your Part of Fortune is conjunct Jupiter, which pints to your prosperity coming through the broadening and expanding of your understanding of life through involvement in groups or causes. It’s quite possibly even linked to your career. You might take on the role of the inspiring and visionary teacher that transforms people’s lives (Pluto trine Jupiter). Or, put in other terms, your teaching and sharing of yourself will make you feel powerful and impactful in the world of ideas as well as that of form (Jupiter in 11th trine Pluto in the 2nd). Your South Node conjuncts your Pluto, so it’s easy for you to wield subtle power and take control. Pluto sextile Mars gives you a relentless will; you do fight dirty even if it’s below the surface and through quiet coercing and strategic manipulation that is barely noticed. Guilt seems to be a popular tool for Scorpio Mars in attempt to control matters, and the same could be said for Pluto-Mars aspects. Mars in the 12th easily lends itself to acting out the role of the martyr or victim of circumstances and when aspecting Pluto, this can be used strategically. You can probably be a little ambiguous and subtly threatening in your actions in order to get what you want.

Finally, let’s look at Uranus. It’s in its domicile in Aquarius in the 5thhouse, trine Saturn. The 5th house has to do with activities of self-expression and it would seem that you find an outlet for breaking out of the societal bars of convention within this sphere. You might have fun exploring new collective trends and ways of expressing yourself that challenges the status quo. It would seem that you incorporate your offbeat ways nicely with the necessity to conform and succeed within society, since Uranus trines Saturn. However, seeing as Saturn is in retrograde, you are not particularly in touch with the limits and boundaries of society – they don’t make sense to you. You might set high goals for yourself and work diligently to reach them, yet you don’t experience a correlation between your effort and the payoff. Looking to what is wrong with authority, rebelling against it and pushing new, more progressive thought systems might come easily to you for this reason. You might be inclined to hop on a collective thought trend and identify with it, embody it in your own unique way. You’re likely to express alternative ideas and conceptual framework through your creativity and spontaneity.

---

If you’re interested a general chart reading similar to this one feel free to message me. I do a Basic Natal Chart Reading without the use of astrological language for 13.44 USD (6-7 pages), but if you want a more casual overview of your chart or have any specific question you would like me to go into, I charge 10 USD for about 4 pages.

[shorts84]

I noticed that in A Thread to Follow, shame is a recurring theme for Marianne. I thought that was an interesting decision on your part but I don’t think I understand it. What was your intention?

Hi Anon, thanks for the fascinating question.

I think one of the things that struck me when I was watching interviews about Portrait was how disinterested Sciamma, Haenel and Merlant were about the historical period in which the film was set. Any time the historical context was raised, apart from mentions of inherent patriarchy and enforced matrimony, the questions were pretty well dismissed as not being the point of the film.

I began to see this rigorous ignoring of wider historical context as being a feature, not a bug, like a wider philosophical angle on Sciamma's decision to set the main action of the love story on an island. In much the same way that Shakespeare shifts his action to an island or a forest when he wants to shake up the usual power structures of class and gender, Sciamma uses the setting to create a hermetically sealed environment where the love story could unfold without context, without reference to wider societal norms, and largely without realistic consequence.

In short, she created a world without the necessity of shame.

Now, revolutionaries like Sciamma would probably balk at my use of that phrase. But shame does not have to be something imposed upon us by an unbending societal order. It can be a reaction to falling short of our own ideals and standards for ourselves. To mimic the phraseology of the young, shame is something that can be so personal.

I would argue that, throughout Portrait, whereas Héloïse is shown as being unbending in her belief of her own rightness, even in the liberated setting of the island Marianne is just occasionally shown to experience shame: shame that she has deceived Héloïse; shame that she has fallen short as an artist in Heloise's eyes; shame, during their argument, that she cannot love her without possessiveness. In fact, Marianne is shown to be a character who grows when she disappoints herself.

It made sense to me that, when Marianne found herself away from Sciamma's perfect isolation, she, more than Héloïse, would be at the mercy of her own shame. In Thread, I wanted to explore that. Apart from anything else, I wanted to use it to explore the question of why Marianne does not go to Héloïse in the opera house. Why she chooses to become a voyeur to someone else's suffering at the film's conclusion. I know in the world of the film, the final shot explores the wondering delight and painful gratitude of remembering past love, captured and shown back to us through Art; in fact necessarily shown to us through Marianne's perspective because Marianne is The Artist. But from the fic writer's perspective, in this scene, Marianne is a living, breathing person, sitting in an actual opera house, watching a woman that she once loved cry at a shared memory. And Marianne watches. And afterwards, it is heavily implied, she leaves without saying anything.

In Thread, I tried to explore how the Marianne we know could do such a thing; because to be able to go to Héloïse in the opera house would be to admit that whatever happened between the two of them was over. And, to her shame, Marianne finds that it is not.

When I write about Marianne's shame in Thread, it is about the conflict between her improved knowledge of herself in the wake of Portrait and her place in the wider context of historical society. I do not think these moments of shame in her are beyond understanding. "Why can I not love you the way you deserve when you are a good person?" "Would it be easier for the people I love if I were in some way different?" "Would the world be more ready to acknowledge my accomplishments if I were another sort of person?" These are the questions Marianne asks herself in The Minotaur, and although in her case they are necessarily coloured by the historical context of 18th century France, I think they may be questions we have all asked ourselves from time to time, without necessarily wishing any part of ourselves away.

I hope this goes some way to answering your question. Sorry not to be more thorough, but I am still in my pyjamas and this situation must shortly change. All the best, Anon

[cosmicjoke]

I want to talk a little bit about Levi’s relationship with Erwin, and why Levi, for most of the story of Attack on Titan, was dedicated to and so trusting of Erwin’s judgment.

I see a lot of people say it’s because Erwin gave Levi a “purpose” in life.  That it’s because before he met Erwin, Levi had no direction, no goal, etc...  That might be part of it.  But I think, more than giving Levi a purpose, I think what Erwin gave Levi was hope.  

Levi’s big, character defining moment, the one that influences and impacts all of Levi’s choices throughout the story, and indeed, influences his very life philosophy, comes with the deaths of Furlan and Isabel.  I don’t think the importance of these two characters in Levi’s life gets nearly enough attention.  They’re often written off because they’re “side characters”, not actually invented by Isayama himself, and so their import to Levi is often overlooked.  But if we’re being honest, and not viewing Levi’s relationships through the lens of shipping goggles, I think, out of everyone, it’s Furlan and Isabel who were probably closer to Levi than any other character in the series.  I don’t say that to offend anyone, so please don’t take it that way.  But both Furlan and Isabel come from the same world as Levi.  They, presumably, both grew up in the Underground, the same as Levi, both experienced poverty, deprivation, and the same struggle to survive from day to day that Levi did.  That, alone, would give them a connection to Levi that no other character in SnK has.  No one else that we know of in the Survey Corps came from the Underground, no one else in the Survey Corps experienced that particular kind of disenfranchisement or alienation from proper society, or truly experienced what it meant to be treated as second class citizens, the way those who came from the Underground did.  The people of the Underground are there largely because, for whatever reasons, they’ve been deemed pariah’s of society, unwanted, unneeded, driven there, in the case of Levi’s mother, by persecution, others likely for having fallen in bad with the law, somehow, or because their own, impoverished circumstances left them with no place else to go.  Likely a large portion of the Underground population was born there, born into poverty and deprivation and labeled, through no fault or action of their own, as the “dregs” of society.  I think it’s even stated at some point in the manga that the people of the Underground don’t have legal citizenship up on the surface.  Meaning they’re literally treated as illegal aliens, and if they’re caught up above on the surface, they’ll be deported back down.  In this sort of environment, in which the population has been cast off from regular society and deemed unfit and undesired, cut off from the typical benefits and privileges one garners from being a part of a working and ordered society, like regular food, regular work, safe and reliable shelters, an education, health care, opportunity for advancement, all the sorts of rights one enjoys from having citizenship of any society, circumstances of desperation come into play, a constant, frantic struggle to acquire the basic necessities of living day to day, of simply surviving from one day to the next.  This of course breeds an environment of crime.  Engaging in illegal activities just to manage day to day life.  This is all stuff that Levi was born into, this kind of deprived life where he could rely on no one and nothing to help him get by.  No sorts of state implemented programs, no sort of educational system to help him learn a trade, no sort of regular job opportunities or income, no access to health care, no legal or human rights, no legal path to gaining citizenry up top, no  safety net of any kind to help him, essentially.  This is what it truly means to struggle to survive.  When there isn’t any time to think of banal or frivolous pleasures, when one can’t afford to indulge in fantasies or dreams, or hope.  All Levi would have known, for the first 25 years of his life, was the desperate struggle to not die, to make it to the next day.  Truly the definition of existing, not living.

Furlan and Isabel, we can surmise, shared this same experience with him, underwent and experienced similar struggles and desperation and deprivation.  That shared experience, then, must have bonded them in a way impossible for Levi to find with anyone else, no matter how close he grew to his comrades in the SC.  None of them could ever have understood the experience of growing up totally deprived, as Levi did, the way Furlan and Isabel could have.  And I think, because of that, to Levi, Furlan and Isabel were the closest thing to family he probably ever had.  They found each other in the most desperate of circumstances, and bonded through the shared struggle of their existence.  They found comfort and love and friendship in one another in an otherwise brutally harsh, unforgiving, cruel, uncaring, isolated and forgotten world.  A world literally shunned by the light of the sun, and by the acceptance of society above.

Well, how this all relates back to Erwin and Levi’s relationship with him, comes down to what Erwin says to Levi after Furlan’s and Isabel’s deaths.  Levi is drowning and blinded, in the moments following their deaths, by pure grief and rage.  He can’t understand what’s just happened.  He’s lost the only two friends he’s ever had in the whole world.  The two people who he found in the darkest, most difficult and most desperate time of his life, the two people who shared in and understood that hardship better than anyone else ever could.  He’s just watched the both of them being eaten alive by Titans, torn apart and killed in one of the most horrific and terrifying ways a person can die, and found himself unable to save them, helpless to stop this horrible thing from happening to the only two people in his life he could, up to that point, regard as family.  He was alone.  Utterly alone, then.  Likely transported back to the days before he met them, after Kenny had abandoned him on the streets, left completely on his own to survive in, again, one of the harshest, most unforgiving environments imaginable.  Levi’s life, before he met Furlan and Isabel, must have been one of suffocating loneliness and isolation.  A life filled with no real human connection, no real warmth, or love or friendship.  He found those things when he found them.  And then he had to sit there and watch as those things were torn violently away from him once more.  The pain must have been incomprehensible, the fear and disbelief and grief so deep, he couldn’t think past it.  He sees Erwin in that moment, then, and it all comes crashing down on him, all of that rage, pain and despair, and the only means for him to keep it from destroying him then and there, to keep it from consuming him, is to direct it at the man he sees a responsible for their deaths.  So he attacks Erwin, fully intent on killing him.  And then, Erwin tells him not to let Furlan and Isabel have died in vain.  He tells Levi not to regret his choice to come with them to the surface, not to regret having chosen to come out on expedition with the SC, not to regret choosing to leave them behind with the rest of their squad and go out on his own after Erwin, not to let them die without MEANING.  This entire exchange forms what comes to be the crux of Levi’s life philosophy later on.  Erwin tells Levi that he can’t let Furlan’s and Isabel’s deaths be meaningless, he can’t let them have died for no reason.  He tells Levi that humanity needs his strength, and that if he lends that strength to their cause, then Furlan’s and Isabel’s deaths will gain purpose, that, in spite of it’s horrific tragedy, their sacrifices will matter, because they will have brought Levi to the cause of humanity’s salvation.  

Essentially, Erwin plants in Levi the idea that people don’t have to die meaningless deaths.  Levi, who grew up in a world where doubtless he saw, day after day, people dying for no reason at all, succumbing to things like disease and starvation and depression and violence, Levi, who grew up doubtless SURROUNDED by meaningless death, is told by this man, whom Levi had meant to kill in his own, misguided attempt to make the lives of his family better, that death doesn’t have to be meaningless at all.  That people can die in ways that will make the world a better place for everyone else, that people can die for a cause that makes not just their deaths, but their very existence, meaningful, valuable, important.  Erwin plants this idea in Levi’s head, that no matter how ugly, or awful, or cruel, or painful, or seemingly pointless life can be, no matter how unfair or unjust the deaths of those we care for may seem, we can, even if only a little, redeem that cruelty and unfairness and that pain, by making their suffering and their sacrifices count towards something better.  Even if that something better is a distant hope, or an unreachable dream, to simply fight for it in the name of those who have endured hardship and lost their lives, is enough to save them from the indignity, shame and hopeless despair of having died forgotten and purposeless.  To Levi, who grew up surrounded by meaningless struggle and death, the thought that what we endure and what we suffer doesn’t have to be for nothing must have been a revelation.

This is why I think Levi is so devoted to Erwin, why he follows Erwin with such loyalty and trust.  It isn’t because of some silly bond due to his bloodline, or because he’s “in love” with Erwin.  It’s because Erwin made Levi believe that life, and death, could both hold something better than the desperate suffering of his childhood.  It’s why Levi thinks of Erwin as someone with a great, far reaching vision that Levi himself could never grasp.  Because he considered this thing that Levi himself never had, that a person’s life and death, both, could be given meaning through the continued actions those still living take in their name.  That WE can give their lives and deaths meaning.  Erwin’s ability to see that made Levi believe in him, and his ability to lead humanity to salvation.  Erwin’s words to Levi that day essentially rescued him from the depressing and brutal darkness of his own life experiences.  They made everything Levi had suffered up to then gain meaning.  No longer did Levi feel he’d lived such a hard and painful life for no reason other than his own misery.  No longer did Furlan’s and Isabel’s deaths have to have meant nothing and gained nothing.  Levi could take all of that, could take all of the pain and grief and sadness, and make it into something which would give it reason.  He could use it to form something which could have value for others.  Erwin’s words help pull Levi up from an existence of pure suffering and loss, and instead tell Levi that those things he’s gone through, those losses he’s experienced, those trials he’s endured, weren’t for nothing.

We see Levi apply this philosophy to almost everything he does throughout SnK thereafter, in which he tries with uncompromising determination to make sure every loss suffered, every sacrifice made, every action taken, is done so with meaning, with purpose, with reason.  Whether that be the lives of his comrades being lost in the fight for humanity’s freedom, or Historia needing to step up and take her rightful place as Queen, or his squad having to take the lives of other people to survive, or the numerous lives given to protect Eren, all of it is only tolerable to Levi so long as he believes there is MEANING behind it all, that there is a greater good to be achieved, that it will all lead to a better life for humanity all around.  For someone like Levi, who grew up in such utter depravation and abject poverty, in a world of ruthless and uncaring violence, where his own life was deemed by society to have no worth or value at all, the import of being able to believe in something better, in a better world, where all that suffering didn’t have to happen for nothing, can’t be overstated.  It was like his one, shining light to be found in an otherwise pitch black world, and when he saw it, Levi grasped it with both hands and never let it go.

It speaks too to Levi’s own, inherent idealism, I believe, that he was ABLE to believe the words coming from Erwin’s mouth, when everything in his life up to that point should have crushed any sort of idealistic fancy from him.  Levi wanted to believe it.  His own, innate kindness is what allowed him to.  I don’t think Levi ever fully believed life to be hopeless, or pointless, even before he met Erwin.  It’s why he was able to form bonds with people like Furlan and Isabel, why he did everything he could to help them, to make their lives better, to take care of them, and to help other orphans and delinquents in the Underground.  That he was able to open his heart up to the possibility of friendship and family, and have in him the desire to help those in need, even as it was already a struggle just to keep himself alive, is proof of Levi’s always pure and giving heart.  I think Levi has always desired to make the lives of others better, to do all he could to help others, to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves, and to give value to the lives of those deemed worthless by society.  I think Levi’s always held that kind of compassion and caring and kindness in him, that he’s always just been naturally inclined towards helping others, and wanting to improve their circumstances.  I think where Levi probably struggled was in believing he could achieve those things on his own, or at all.  In believing the plausibility of those dreams, or the value in even harboring such secret desires for something so idealistic.  In believing even in the possibility.  Life, after all, had shown him nothing but the opposite.  What Erwin did for Levi was make him believe in the possibility of his own power to make a difference, and validate his hope as something more than just fancy, turning it to something tangible, something he could work towards and achieve with his own, two hands.  Surrounded by so much pain and suffering without purpose, Erwin gave Levi the realization that, even if he had power in nothing else, he had the power to give the sacrifices and suffering of others meaning.  He had the power to make sure the lives of others were worth something more.   Erwin didn’t make Levi a better person.  Levi was ALWAYS a good person.  What Erwin did was give Levi the ability to believe himself capable of making the difference he always wanted to make.  He gave Levi the ability to genuinely, truly hope.  

[starshipsofstarlord]

Perception is Key

Part Two to Hell on Earth

avengers x reader

series masterlist

masterlist

Summary; dread is all you feel as you take up temporary residence in New Asgard. Something big is coming, and you are not the only one that can feel it, but despite that, Thor tries to make you feel safe in his rebuilt kingdom, though all you see is it falling before your knees

Warnings; mentions of death, angst, secrecy

divider by @firefly-graphics

Death, it was a certain doom for all living mechanisms, even Asgard had been demolished by its inevitable demise. Yet here you were, nursing an off handed bottle of ale that came from the gods, whilst you breathed in the salt scent that regarded from the ocean that crashed by. New Asgard, the home of Thor and his brothers in arms, whilst his real sibling was killed by Thanos. It was a shame to see the brave deity in mourning, however, there was nothing that you could do about it. Nothing.

The concept of the end came to all, it was a daunting curse that teased its victims, and pried them into sculpting their own fears of it. But for all the people in the galaxy knew, death could be peaceful; you liked to think that you were the same. A wound cog that did not work for their purpose, a villain that could do some good. And whilst you had never threatened the end of the world, your hereditary abilities sure as hell did. It was another danger to humans and more, thus making you one in regard.

Killing was a route that you didn’t want to take, it was dark, and there was no way back for redemption. Murderers and the bad guys, if they wanted penance, would spend their whole lives trying to make amends for what they did, in exchange for a forgiveness that they would never be granted. And if you did such a thing, as regretting causing exhibitions of death, your father would send for you from the underworld, and have you dragged back down to his bleak halls.

Those heroes would rise, as the ones that you came to know and befriend were brought to bottomless pits of service for Hades, suffering for all eternity as they knelt before the god whom ruled hell. Mother could only prey that he would give up his display of the deceased, he used them like puppets, and it was not a friendly scenic for the next batch of Demi gods that they were planning. You were brilliantly strong, but they would be stronger, as not only would they have the army of warriors behind them, they would be invincible.

Their carriageway into ironic new life, was affecting to you, you could feel it as their existence seared through your veins. There was a war coming, and it was going to be a blood bath, there would be bodies littered on all the planets as they respected their appetites, and they would come for you. It wasn’t silly for you to fear them, they had been around before, it was a rebirth for the ages, a damning revolution that would drain all the breathing from the lungs of species, flushing their external beings into whisperings of blistered remains.

Zagreus and Macaria were coming, pursuing the punishment that was deemed worthy for your scoundrel self, you were nothing more than another revamped version of yourself, raised from the ashes, and taking your overdue time to age. You were supposed to be the cause for the world’s destruction, but they, they would tear every atom down piece by piece, because you were unable to complete your mission of birthright.

Humans, nor other vessels of aspiring and mundane inventions, had the impact of defence to protect themselves from more dominant species. They were simply specks with heart beats in the universe, thumping in their chests as they strived to usher their own planet under the hypocrisy of a dying climate.

“Heimdall once said that Hades had a vision, and he, a seer of all people, couldn’t see how far his faction of thought went. There was no end with his quarrel with the nattering of life, instead, it was competently endless, going on for light years upon light years, straggling the gods into the grand demise. To put it into other words, you are his vision.”

“Well I’m not sure that our Vision back at the compound would be too pleased if I coined his name.” But all joking aside, the air shifted every time that you brought lightness to your words. Continuing, you spoke to Thor, whom had brought you to his evolved demeanour of his homeland, and stole you from the consequences of the violent struggle that you had instinctively conquests upon James Buchanan Barnes. “However, on a more serious note, you are aware of my origin, and the truths that Hades is my father. You know of why he crafted me, but there will be a greater shadow than my foresworn self, and the others need to know of this oncoming riot.”

“We shall tell them, but first; eat.” The god of thunder intended for you to follow through with his kind hearted order, though a heated rumble shook the core of the earth, the energy trembling up your legs. They had been born, sooner than anticipated, and much closer to your break from the ruckus than you had wanted.

“I am not sure we have the time, you felt that cause of apocalyptic foreshadowing, I can tell by the fearful promise on your face. My father will not rest until he has me, a weapon in his hold returned, and to do so, he will tear apart this family, in literal terms, so that I can return to my biological home.”

“Eat.” Thor spoke once more, gulping down the terror that graced his long spanned veins. “If there is to be a fight on earth for the ages, destruction raining down on midguard, then you will need your strength. There is no need to deprive yourself of basic necessities, young warrior.”

Accepting the small loaf from his hand, you watched as the crumbs fled a trail through your palm. Even you appetite was frolicking trauma upon bacteria that swayed in the depths of the bread; the gathered yeast feared you, much like you feared yourself. “I’m going to have to return to the compound, as much as I hate to do so after what I had done, they have to know. And throughout our excursion of informative speech, then they shall have to know of my dreaded secret.”

But what if they already knew?

“A weapon like that...” Steve shook his head as he threw the classified papers onto the desk space he had reserved for his affiliated research. “We have to protect the earth, and if we have to do so from her, then we will have to stretch to any means necessary.” The captain gulped, not pleased as he divulged deeper into this situation with his friend.

Bucky remained shocked from the fleeting threats that had deranged from your form; it was like a curse adorned you, but it turned out, it was just you. Nothing had made you this way, instead, you were born a vigil monster, a daughter of a fraternising god.

“The daughter of Hades... I miss the old days where we believed in one god, and went to church every Sunday morning.” He wasn’t have supposed to have heard Barnes talking, but the figure did as he pressed himself against the wall, his hearing inclined to listen to more.

Peter’s eyes bulged as he was silently affirmed with the truth. He had a web stringing each digression together as he thought of your independence that you had been determined to keep. They were going to tell everyone, swaying their opinions from what they knew, rather than what they did not.

But that made you a legend, a mortal infliction of ancient religion; there must have been more to know. He had to be silent to ensure he didn’t trigger an alert to the super soldier’s enhanced hearing, as the boy that was pursed with a spider bite slipped away, portraying his fawning portrayal of being a vigilante.

His assumed destination that his quiet feet were carrying him too was the library. There’d surely be something useful in the walls of filled shelves, and if there wasn’t, then the internet was a useful friend. As he entered the subjective room for required reading, he saw the Falcon himself, Sam Wilson, seated at a small and solitary table.

Perhaps... no, it’d be wrong to turn him against his close friends... but possibly what was necessary. Peter allowed his doe eyes to scan the various sections. Mythology. Though, all avengers knew that there was some truth to every realistic evolution of belief, though it was usually only a little. But maybe, in your case, there would be more.

Tony had told him there had been an incident, and Peter had believed that Mr Stark was concealing a devise of perception from the rest of the aligned team. It was certainly wrong for him to delve against the ruin of the circumstances, but he was eager to do anyways. Whatever happened must’ve been lined coursing seriousness, and he was afflicted with firm interest to find out what.

Ah, he found something. Adjoined with the abilities he knew that you were capable of, he knew it must have been in regards to you, it just made sense. The spine spoke with integrity, daring anyone to read the biblical novel of fumed remark that raised hell on Earth.

The goddess of invoked, bringer of nightmares and madness, Melinoë.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

My favorite.

NEGAN. ┃ THE WALKING DEAD.

❝ words: about 900.

❝ summary: when Negan comes back, he just have two things on mind.

❝ warnings: language and Negan being Negan.

Gif credits to the author.

MASTERLIST. ⎢ MULTIFANDOM TAG LIST

“Honey-boonie, I am home!”

You weren't expecting him. At least, not till tomorrow. But as soon as his playful and happy tone of voice echoes through the hallway, outside of his large room —where you are most of your time—, you can't help but feel a little alleviated of knowing he's still alive. Safe and sound. Coming in carrying Lucille over his shoulder, you notice the blood on his face and also staining his black leather jacket and his hands. You lick your bottom lip carefully, barely perceptible, rising from the king-size bed as Negan opens his arms showing you a huge smile from ear-to-ear.

“Have you misse— Of course you have”.

His laugh fills the room, putting down the baseball bat close to the sofa, to unzip his jacket and toss it over it. When you're close enough, he grabs your left wrist to push you to his chest. His calloused hands go straight to your ass, squeezing it with no shame while he sinks his nose into your neck.

“Oh… Home… Home, sweet home”. Negan hums lively, while you're trying to keep your composure and not to fall for his charms. “Will you help me with a bath, uh?”

As if you had another option(...). And he doesn't even need your reply, only asking for mere courtesy. So he brings you to his private bathroom turning on the lights and starting to strip himself, while you prepare for him the bathtub, filling it with warm water. It's been a week since he left The Sanctuary and watching him coming closer totally naked doesn't help to contain your desire. Negan is not the most gentleman in the world, even if you have covered all your necessities as his favorite wife —fact that he has demonstrated you sometimes—, but his ego and his arrogance are always predominating.

He comes into the tub, submerging his anatomy till the water reaches his neck with a pleased grunt. Then, you kneel on the cold floor grabbing a sponge to start cleaning up his face. Negan rests his back against the bathtub closing his eyes inevitably for your touch, washing off the blood from his skin.

“This feels so fuckin' good, sweetheart”. He whispers slowly, dragging every syllable through his teeth.

You remain silent, continuing with your main task as always until he is completely clean. Sometimes, like these ones, you can't explain to yourself how it is possible that he can be so despot while seeing him so relaxed and not opening his mouth to spit some bullshit. But then, he turns again into the jerk he is most of the time, standing up and stepping out of the bathtub while studying you with his piercing eyes.

“Clothes off. You know the rules”. Negan orders, grabbing the soft towel to dry himself before tossing it to the floor.

Rules. You hate that damn word. You're not a slave. Not even his wife, officially. And even if it was the case, you wouldn't be his slave either. But you have to obey without complaining. Gulping a sigh, looking at him disappearing from the bathroom straight to his bed, you remove your dress and your underwear to join him.

After drawing the curtains, you lie on your side of his bed not knowing if Negan wants to sleep or use you to put on you the frustration of not finding what he was looking for in his last expedition. But your silent answer is soon responded, wrapping his arms around you to move you closer to him. One of his hands travels to your throat, urging you to crash your lips on his. Devouring your mouth with necessity. But not the kind that turns into lust. Just necessity for feeling you.

You would like to not moan when his tongue finds its way among your lips to arm-wrestle yours, but you have done it. You feel ashamed of how easy Negan could make you beg for a simple touch, trying to keep in mind that you're not the only woman he cares about, that he isn't in love with you —what you don't know is that he doesn't allow you to stay dressed under his sheets because he loves to smell his own scent on your skin.

The leader of the Saviors bites and sucks your bottom lip, forcing you to drink his delighted growls when you place a leg over his, not even thinking about it before doing it.

“You're like a fuckin' candy, you know that? So damn sweet, baby girl”. His words give you goosebumps on your bare skin, as his fingers hold tight your throat to make you look at him. “Bet you're fucking wet just for me, right now, aren't you?”

“Yes”. You sound pathetic, not being able to hide your voice almost wrecking for your actual condition.

His hoarse laugh brushing your lips plays with your mind in the worst way, feeling his free hand roaming your thigh up to the curve of your ass.

“I need some rest”. He just says in response lying on his back, sliding his right arm under your neck, as he uses his other hand to rub his nose. “Be ready for when I wake up… I want your legs well spread to fuck that little warm pussy of yours”.

Swallowing, you nod your head imperceptible, getting somewhat comfier against his body.

“Good girl”.

[bjy-on-ao3]

Kinktober 2021, Day 2

(As usual, you can find the AO3 version of all my uploads [and some things I don’t post here to tumblr] via my Masterlist blog page.) This is more magical aphrodisiacs than a physical one, but I think it still fits. Had been tossing this around for a bit, as well as how I wanted to end it. I’d like to write more with Urianger, but, as much as I love him, his dialogue really breaks my brain mostly (and in saying that I hope the dialogue here is suitable!). Summary Practicing archaic spells is risky at best when done in a proper setting safe from tampering or reasonable error. When mischievous pixies or illusions get involved, things can go rather awry, even for an experienced caster.

Tags/Warnings Aphrodisiacs, Kinktober, Kinktober 2021, Magic, Oneshot, Prompt, Reader-Insert, Sex Pollen, Slightly Dubious Consent

Kinktober 2021, 02: Aphrodisiacs (Reader x Urianger Augurelt)

It was a day not unlike many others. Well, at least a day in the life of the champion who served some goddess of light and carried on their shoulders the fate of not just one world, but many. You had been granted a blessed respite among the numerous tasks that needed tending, thank the Twelve. Though, that respite didn’t mean you could afford to simply lie idle in the meantime. No, even on a day of rest, there were preparations to attend to, subjects to learn and study. Preparations that ought to give you a greater chance of success in your seemingly impossible ordeals.

Your preparations had taken you to Lydha Lran that day, home of the fae, to the little cottage estate that Urianger had taken up residence in during his time among the pixies. There had been some ancient, ritualistic spell, many eons old, unearthed from among the multitude of equally old tomes. You were unsure whether it had been Urianger’s discovery alone, or the pixies or nu mou had a hand in things as well. Whatever the case, Urianger seemed confident in the spell’s beneficial nature.

You had agreed without hesitations. After all, why shouldn’t you trust your fellow scions and dear friend? True enough, Urianger had been guilty of grand falsehoods in the past, but they had always been for the greater means to aid the scions and keep the world from calamity. Through all that, his loyalty had been proven unwavering.

With the assurance of your steadfast trust in mind, you had met him at his little home away from home one morning, not long after the sun had peeked past the horizon. As usual, it took some fussing with the pixies, over yourself and Urianger before they had been eventually convinced to disperse and grant you some privacy and silence. You had to admit, though, that it was always rather cute just how fond of the elezen man the pixies were.

Everything necessary for the spell had been gathered before and was carefully put into place around the room, to the finest detail and marking. Standing amidst glyphs and drawings, surrounded by tables, books, shelves, and various research aids, you cast a subtle glance toward Urianger. His nose pointed toward the pages of the ancient book, concentration written across his features. He ran his fingers lightly over the page, and his lips subtly, as if becoming better acquainted with the words staring back at him from the archaic tome. He paused briefly, before seeming to read a line over once more.

As he turned his focus from the tome, you looked at him expectantly. “I believe all is in order,” he stated, “On they leave, we may begin.”

“Let’s get started then,” you declared with a firm nod to match your eager tone.

With another swift glance at the tome’s musty pages, Urianger set about speaking the incantations, loud and clear as a bell, peppering in the various gestures and other necessities of the spell. You breathed a soft sigh to clear your mind and relax, to let the magics take hold. There was no room for aether stirred up by any potential lingering nerves associated with your heavy burden to the First and Source now.

The spell wasn’t long, its invocation taking only a minute or two, and at first, there was little difference in you. A sense of slightly energized refreshment, surely, but you had been imagining the spell’s effects to be something more noticeable or impressive. Yet just when you were about to ask Urianger if he was certain the spell had succeeded - or if mayhap the effect was one of the delayed kind - you were struck silent.

Your breaths came a little harder, sharper, and each gulp of air made you feel hot and tingly. Each breath seemed to draw down and into your center, bring with them a prickling warmth that wasn’t quite unpleasant. From that center of heat, the sensation crept outward to each extremity, to the tips of fingers and toes. Once the tingling warmth had enveloped you completely, it intensified, roaring hotter under your skin.

You were in no pain, though, and it was hardly even something you truly label as discomfort. It was simply something like a burning, a yearning for something to scratch the itch the tingling left in its wake. Despite leaving you unscathed, the feeling startled you.

“Is aught amiss?” Urianger asked, concern breaching his speech as if he could read the shock and newly spun worry on your face. Something for sure told the man something wasn’t quite right.

“I-I’m not quite sure. What-what does the tome say the spell should feel like?” you asked uncertainly, having to almost force the words out.

Your whole body throbbed now with the heat as if your blood was surging alongside it, too. It was a most distracting thing to feel, making it hard to focus on your words. The incessant heat seemed to only be fueled to greater heights when Urianger had spoken, brief as he had been.

Urianger’s pale eyes shot down to the page, quickly skimming again. Your heart skipped when noticed them widen slightly in what you could only assume was surprise. “I-What manner of trickery is this?” He flicked several pages, back and forth, as if searching for the spell that had presumably been right in front of him. “The incantation from before, ‘tis gone, and a new spell doth remain in its place,” he said, almost in a hush, as if in disbelief.

“Then what-aah,” your words faltered, the strange sensation choking your speech for an instant. “What spell was cast? I feel rather… hot, prickly almost,: you hesitated, trying to properly describe the sensation. It was something beyond prickles or tingles, rather something that had become a pulse, settling in your core and making you feel jittery, anticipatory.

Pale gold met your eyes when Urianger spoke again, and there was alarm, concern, and something akin to embarrassment. “A ritual many eons past, cast proceeding an ancient version of Eternal Bonding. A magic to ensure the newlyweds suffered no difficulties in the night thereafter,” he explained. His tone and demeanor would have seemed level enough, given the circumstances, were it not for the rosy flush of embarrassment dusting his cheeks.

“To ensure newlyweds suffered no difficulties?” You repeated, turning the words over in your heat-addled mind. You shuddered when the meaning, at last, struck home, giving the pulsing and heat in your center much more gravity.

Somehow, the book itself must have been magicked or disguised until the illusioned page’s spell has been cast. It had been an illusion great enough for Urianger not to see through, and he had unintentionally cast what was essentially the magical equivalent of a powerful aphrodisiac upon you. What you felt was not some horrid pain or sinister curse that would leave you in dire straights or with loss of life and limb. Though understanding that didn’t make the newly understood effect it had upon you any easier to resist or endure.

Each new second your eyes lay on the handsome elezen who seemed so shamed by his mistake magnified the ravenous heat in your gut by some degree as if he were some catalyst for it. Though perhaps in a way he was, in a way, though you had never told him outright. Here and there you had taken hints or advice from Thancred on flirting and subtly invitation, struck down by what seemed to be Urianger’s sheer obliviousness to the attempts. Hanging around him when you had spare time or making excuses to aid with his research, any effort you could spare to convey your feelings without actually speaking them had been worth it to you. Your desires had never been made quite plain, though.

Yet the potent sorceries coursing through you now were demanding you make it clear, and in the rawest and most physical sense. The intensity with which it was beginning to consume you was frightening on its own, even if it was otherwise harmless, only inconvenient.

“W-well, undo it then!” you insisted, your words wavered, your focus directed toward disobeying the spell and not besetting Urianger like some beast in heat.

Another quicker flicker of his eyes to the page, frantic searching, and another flash of regret. “There is naught I can do to dispel it. The spell must run its course.”

The admission made your stomach sink, though the rolling heat was more than happy to fill the emptiness left in its wake. You reeled, wondering if you should just flee, get far from the one man who had the greatest effect on your desires, even if he was unaware of it. Yet, the idea of being alone and ensorcelled to be boundless horny in the trickery-filled land of Il Mheg was not much more appealing of a prospect. The consequences you faced out there could likely be much more grave.

“Urianger, I…” you forced yourself to stop, cursing your traitorous tongue, already trying to decide for you. Would you go mad if you didn’t satisfy the howling desires in your gut and your mind? Such a spell suited to assist such sacred tradition seemed far more a curse than a boon. “There is a way,” you muttered, words low in shame and apprehension.

“Pardon?”

“A way to dispel it, I mean.”

If Urianger rejected your solution, rejected you, it would only compound the physical strain of the spell with an embarrassment that would surely never recede. But your muddled brain shouted at you, compelling you to just try . Never had you thought in your wildest dreams that this would be the manner in which you solicited Urianger, in any sense.

Urianger wasn’t daft, though, to be certain, and his eyes thinned at your proposal that a solution existed. “Prithee, explain what manner of dispelling thou doth speak of?” he asked cautiously.

For an instant of indecision, you weren’t sure whether to put it delicately or be straightforward and tactless. The latter won out though as another burst of heat blossomed in your core, radiating outward with startling swiftness. “In short, Urianger, I need you to fuck me.”

The crude words set Urianger’s cheeks aflame immediately. Though you imagined he’d already had an idea of what you meant to say, you hadn’t seen him quite so flustered in many moons. His new knowledge of what the spell was for didn’t protect him from the rush of pink and red to his cheeks, no matter how much he might have been prepared. Your stomach sank a second time as Urianger was silent for a moment, looking to be struck dumb by your bluntness.

“Nay, the spell doth color thine words and cloud thine judgment,” Urianger denied with a quick shake of his head.

In that instant, you silently cursed and blessed him for his sincerity. But you knew where your desires had lain dormant before the spell-twined mishap. The spell hadn’t clouded your judgment, only brought them seething to the surface and shattered your ability to keep them bound in silence. You shook your head fervently, ignoring another wave of throbbing heat.

“Trust me, please. I know what you think the spell has done to me, but even now I wouldn’t dream to ask anyone else to dispel it in such a way,” you explained, as coolly as your predicament allowed.

You punctuated your words with a pleading gaze. A plea to believe in your words. A plea to rescue you from the torrid heat tormenting your entire body. A plea, as you had so crudely demanded of him, to fuck you.

Several more heavy seconds passed, a resolve overtook Urianger, a notable flicker in the set of his lips and his amber eyes. “Very well, I shall do wilt though has asked of me to dispel the magics plaguing thee,” he agreed at last, and hope flared alongside the heat.

You sensed as if there were more Urianger meant to say, by the way his lips opened again for a bare instant before closing again. You didn’t need to be a mind reader, or to see into memories or have any gift to understand what lingered beyond his lips.

‘I pray thou wilt feel the same once the trouble sorcery has fled thee.’

You set upon Urianger, despite your insistence that he dispel the magic, overeager to soothe its effects. You slung your arms around him, pressing your lips to his urgently. He stiffened at first, despite his assent, but the tenseness loosened steadily. Large palms fell over your biceps, gentle and warm, neither trying to urge you closer or push you back. You pushed even further into the impromptu embrace and the desperate kiss.

Urianger pulled back, and the concern in his eyes that had never left shone back at you. “Twelve, thou art on fire,” he noted.

The heat of your form then was not just your imagination. It suffused not only your skin but your clothing as well, emanating off you in a way Urianger could easily feel despite the layers between you.

Feeling your plight for himself seemed to encourage Urianger, enlightening him to your desperation. You silenced his alarm with another kiss, moving slowly backward and pulling him along with you, though not allowing his frame to move an inch from your own. When the backs of your legs met the tome-strewn table, you shifted back, leaning your weight against the heavy wood. You tore one hand from the embrace, clumsily sweeping it behind you and displacing several heavy, leather-bound tomes. The thud of one colliding with the floor caught your attention only passingly before the concern was brushed away.

Urianger’s movements remained slow, uncertain almost as if you might draw back and change your mind at any moment. As if he still didn’t quite trust the certainty of your words from before. In the back of your mind, you were grateful for his respect, even if in the forefront of it a cacophony of carnal demands screeched. In spite of his hesitation, his touch was firm, and it comforted you somewhat through the raging heat of desire, even as it stoked the flames higher. His skin felt wonderfully chill to your burning body, and you clung to him more earnestly with each second passed.

Beneath the turbulent, intense arousal brought on by the magic, a buried part of you wished things could have happened slowly, enjoying each new lingering touch and glance and kiss. But there was no time for that now, no control left to support such a manner, not on your part. All that was left was the unbridled need that bade you reach for the skirts of Urianger’s flowing outfit and his small clothes beneath them and drag them down. A multitude of emotions flashed through his golden eyes: surprise at how bold the spell had made you, uncertainty at being so well exposed, and racing hints of his own burgeoning desire.

He was only half-hard beneath his small clothes, and you seized him in your grasp without a second thought, stroking him fervently to full mast. Urianger gasped and groaned at your unfettered, brazen attention, burying his nose against your sweltering skin for a time until your brought your hand away.

Next, you set about prying your own clothing keeping him from you, and his hands gently aided you in your task, until you were bare to him. You urged him even closer, wrapping your hand around his cock once more, the sight of his lurid, flushing erection sending you into an even greater lust-fueled frenzy.

“Urianger, please, please,” you begging instinctively, the desperation taking over again.

Eyes hooded, seemingly infected by the waves of desire rolling off of you despite his initial reluctance, Urianger did as you bade, moving to fit himself between your thighs. Laying his hand over yours, he guided his head to your entrance, well-soaked and dripping. He slid effortlessly through your sopping lips, and when his thick head slipped inside, there was no discomfort to be found. There was only pleasure, euphoria even, a body high that was nigh incomprehensible, as if the magic burning blood made it sing as you began to fulfill its purpose.

[comrade-meow]

Bad data generates bad research; bad research generates bad treatments; bad treatments generate bad outcomes. The physiological differences between males and females are vast, and stamp their mark on every organ of the human body, not just the genitals and gonads. Ignoring these differences will muddle our data, blur our understanding of physiology, and hinder the discovery of new treatments for diseases. Females are much more likely than males to have autoimmune disorders. Males are more likely than females to develop Parkinson’s disease. Males and females may present with different symptoms preceding a heart attack. Males and females metabolize drugs differently. Blatantly ignoring sex as a variable hobbles the process of scientific inquiry and limits the types of questions that researchers will ask, thereby limiting the answers they get.

About this story: last November I came across some anonymous tweets from a person claiming to be a medical student at an American university where professors were teaching that sex is a social construct. I decided to try to find out if these claims were real, and I contacted the Twitter user, striking up a conversation with “C”. We agreed to meet on a Zoom call, and that C would show me C’s student ID, with their name and the name of the school covered, and that we would then do a written interview. C’s desire for strict anonymity is well founded in my eyes, due to the damage that could be inflicted on C’s career prospects if they were caught speaking to a publication about the ideological lies being peddled and the culture of fear at their institution.

On our thirty minute Zoom call, I met a highly intelligent, critical-minded, and determined young person who was expressing deep concern over the ways that gender identity ideology is distorting the teaching of medicine and the repercussions this may lead to in our next generation of doctors.

C held up their ID so I could see their picture on what was clearly a medical school ID. C told me their school can be categorized as “top tier.”

The irony of using “they/them” pronouns for a single person is not lost on me. I find it interesting that due to the tyranny of gender ideology, I must adhere to one of their tenets and accept the use of the plural pronoun for a single person whose sex I know. But the fact that I have to do this is because any information about C could potentially be enough to raise suspicion (just read their words to understand the climate of intimidation they witness in class everyday), and the knowledge of an individual’s sex is still a crucial identifying feature, no matter what the gender ideologues want us to believe.

C and I agreed that I would offer people on Twitter an opportunity to pose their questions directly and that C would respond in written form. Out of the many responses, the medical student chose what they considered some of the most representative and important of the questions. These are their answers below, beginning with a short message they wanted me to share.

-Sasha White

Thank you, Sasha, for having offered me this valuable opportunity to answer these questions. Before we start, I would like to clarify my stance on basic issues regarding sex and gender identity, so that people can keep these in mind while reading.

Biological sex is not a social construct – male and female are distinct material realities which have significant implications for medical and surgical treatment of many different conditions. These physiological differences are relevant on the levels of clinical practice, research, and policy, and absolutely must be acknowledged in order for physicians to best treat their patients. All patients should be treated with compassion, respect, and high-quality medical care, regardless of their professed gender identity. I remain agnostic as to what it truly means to have a “gender identity”, but will respect the wishes of my future patients in regards to their social presentation and pronouns. I believe that dysphoric adults should be able to pursue transition. Physicians should be aware of relevant aspects of trans healthcare, including hormone therapy and surgery, so that they can better advise trans patients on how medical treatments may impact their gender-related care, or vice versa. It is possible and desirable for us to have a healthcare system which is inclusive and respectful of transgender patients, in a way which does not pretend that biology is arbitrary or merely a social construct. Despite my liberal beliefs, the loudest voices at my institution would falsely accuse me of blowing transphobic dog-whistles, hence my anonymity. This hostile climate is corrosive to an inquiry mindset and critical thinking, and will ultimately be a disservice to the scientific community and to future patients, trans and otherwise.

IDD64 @IDD64 asks: “What happened to “nobody’s saying sex isn’t real”?”

This is actually what compelled me to speak out about this practice in the first place. Well-intentioned non-medical people often assume that medical schools are teaching something like, “Gender identity can be fluid and varied, but biological sex is real, binary, and relevant in medical contexts.” This idea is around five years out of date in the most progressive of institutions. I have been told multiple times in several classes that biological sex is a social construct – not just gender. Granted, I can speak only for my institution, but this change has been frustrating and disturbing to witness.

Robert Woolley @RandomlyBob asks: “Do any of the required textbooks also avoid using those words? If not, might you ask those professors if they think the books are either inaccurate or offensive?”

Our curriculum is constantly subject to revision. Around two-thirds of our written materials have been updated with this new language. For the one-third that has remained out-of-date, our class has received multiple apologetic, itemized emails from course instructors in which they provide corrections, beg for forgiveness and patience, and avow to “do better”. In class, we have been given multiple histories in which the patient’s sex has been deleted, even for cases involving disorders which can manifest differently between the sexes. The words “female” and “male” are being erased and replaced.

Born a space baby @ggynoid asks: “What’s the dynamic like for class participation? Do people start with pronouns? Do people tend to agree, disagree? What’s the female-male ratio in the class typically on these sort[s] of classes?”

When school first began, we were heavily encouraged to include pronouns in our Zoom names and email signatures; around 70-80% of the class did so. Most students and professors would start off verbal introductions with their name and pronouns, though that has subsided since we all have grown to know each other.

A vocal minority of students are loudly in favor of the most extreme aspects of gender ideology, while the majority seem to be vaguely supportive in a nonspecific way. I think that this comes from a mixture of naive goodwill and fear – they are trying to be good allies, and this is the only way they know how. Additionally, it is heavily implied that to ask critical questions, even in a way which is ultimately patient-centered and supportive, is perpetuating bigotry, so they just nod along. A silent minority seems to be secretly skeptical. I have met four or five students who have disclosed to me in private conversation that they disagree with one or more aspects of this dogma but they are hesitant to come forward in group settings. I am sure that more exist, but they are hard to find. None of these people have been transphobic.

The female-male ratio is approximately equal, with slightly more females than males in my class.

David Poole @MrDPoole asks: “Do you think the people telling you these things actually believe it or are they being forced to do it?”

I think that a very small minority of our professors actually believe that male and female bodies are interchangeable with the exception of genitalia and gonads. There are definitely more woke students than woke professors, and the most radical of students are far more radical than the wokest professor. Most of these professors are very fearful of saying the wrong thing, so they delicately couch their language by referring to “XX and XY people” or other such euphemisms, even though that can lead to inaccuracies.

The social consequences for misspeaking are highly magnified, especially when most classes are delivered online (due to the pandemic). Our class has been quietly accused of having a mean streak in regards to social justice. We have had petitions circulated (drafted by few, signed by many) to name, shame, and “hold accountable” various lecturers who used the “wrong” language, to the point of humiliation. One professor broke down crying after a genetics lecture which relied heavily on the use of “male” and “female” by necessity. (Though the lecture also made ample space to talk about transgender and non-binary individuals, this was not enough to appease the critics.) Another professor referred to “pregnant women” rather than “pregnant people” and spent a very uncomfortable few minutes after class abjectly apologizing for having caused offense “by implying that only women can get pregnant”. It was incredibly disturbing to see, for multiple reasons. One, this is based on bad science and zealotry that has the potential to harm patients. Two, the magnitude of the “crime” pales in comparison to the magnitude of the outcry. Three, it is a total inversion of the expected social order to see these physicians —some of whom are literally leading scholars in their field— be reduced to fearful puddles if a student so much as looks at them askance. Keep in mind that these professors are extremely liberal, compassionate, and well-meaning, yet they are turned upon with such venom and verve by the people who they are trying to please.

Chopper @RodeoChopper asks: How are cases presented? Normally the first line is “This is a such and such year old (male/female) with a past medical history significant for…”

Here are some examples of formats I have seen in our coursework:

“This is a 43-year-old woman with ovaries, presenting with …”

“A 3-year-old child, assigned male at birth, not assigned gender as of yet by parents, presenting with …”

“This patient is a 7-year-old child, gendered as a boy by his parents, who …”

“57-year-old woman with testes, here with …”

“A 16-year-old patient (gender non-binary, pronouns they/them) …”

“A 32-year-old woman (she/her/hers) …”

“A 16-year-old patient presents with complaints of …”

Of the myriad problems with this structure, the most concerning is that most of these cases do not accurately identify the sex of the patient, which is crucial in being able to weigh the likelihood of potential diagnoses and treatments. A person’s pronouns are not relevant when deciding to prescribe a particular antibiotic, and at which dose. Additionally, I find it somewhat irritating to be expected to state the obvious for things that are the default of the human experience. We do not say, “This is a 42-year-old woman with both her arms and legs”, although there are certainly women in this world who are missing one or more of their limbs.

MaryWrath @WrathMary asks: “So how are reproductively different bodies described then? How are cardiac arrest and stroke symptoms described, explained and taught as we know now they present differently across the two sexes? There are clearly two bodies in our species so how are the professors acknowledging?”

Organs are referred to by their actual names – penis, testes, vagina, ovaries, breasts. However, referring to patients as male or female is strictly taboo. If there are relevant but subtle sex-specific differences, then they will often be downplayed or ignored altogether. As an example, we were told that the higher risk of heart attacks in men was due only to the presence of testosterone, and not for any other reason, which is patently false. When the differences are utterly impossible to ignore, “male” and “female” will simply be rebranded as “people with testes/ovaries”, “AMAB/AFAB”, or “people with/without Y chromosomes”. My personal favorite is “persons with [testosterone/estrogen] as their primary sex hormone.” Oddly, “man” and “woman” are still used, often with redundant qualifiers (“56-year-old man with testes”).

thames pilgrim @thames_pilgrim asks: “What are the most dangerous medical implications for turning a blind eye to someone’s sex due to a belief that talking about “male” and “female” might offend?”

This is a very important question which should be addressed at the following interrelated levels: clinical practice, research, and public policy.

Clinical practice: Transgender patients who do not disclose their birth sex might be at risk for improper medical treatment. (I have seen a natal female person who identified as a nonbinary man, be suspected of having testicular torsion; this person did not disclose their sex to the physician, which resulted in a delay in their care). Out of fear of being branded transphobic, physicians may not accurately and completely inform trans patients about their sex-specific risk for certain medical conditions. And for all patients, if a poorly-educated doctor is unaware as to how disorders manifest differently between the sexes, then patients can be harmed through the failure to rapidly and accurately diagnose and treat their medical conditions.

Research: Bad data generates bad research; bad research generates bad treatments; bad treatments generate bad outcomes. The physiological differences between males and females are vast, and stamp their mark on every organ of the human body, not just the genitals and gonads. Ignoring these differences will muddle our data, blur our understanding of physiology, and hinder the discovery of new treatments for diseases. Females are much more likely than males to have autoimmune disorders. Males are more likely than females to develop Parkinson’s disease. Males and females may present with different symptoms preceding a heart attack. Males and females metabolize drugs differently. Blatantly ignoring sex as a variable hobbles the process of scientific inquiry and limits the types of questions that researchers will ask, thereby limiting the answers they get.

Policy: Patients who are not transgender may be misled by “inclusive” educational materials and miss out on crucial preventative care. This is especially impactful in women’s health; whether due to language barrier, subpar sex education, or cultural taboo, not every woman will even know that she has a cervix, but she will know that she is female. Additionally, recommendations made by professional medical associations are widely used in clinical practice; if these guidelines are generated based on faulty data, this could negatively impact patients on a wider scale.

However, the most pernicious of possible harms is not the denial of sex; rather, the denial of sex is just one manifestation of a greater problem, which is the corrosion of critical thinking itself. Whatever you call it – this postmodern poison, the triumph of dogma over data – it is fundamentally incompatible with critical thinking, the most powerful all-purpose tool a physician has at his or her disposal. Starting with a conclusion and working backwards, all while twisting the data to fit a narrative, strikes me as more religious than scientific.

Marjorie Hutchins @leakylike asks: “Part of being a doctor is taking on ethical & safeguarding responsibilities[.] Why aren’t medical students challenging something which [could] have health implications for patients?”

Our positions as students are precarious, especially if one is labeled as being on the wrong side of history. Consequences for speaking out can include shunning, being anonymously reported to the school for “remediation”, being informally blacklisted from research and leadership opportunities, and potentially expulsion. Until I have earned my degree and have completed residency, I need to remain anonymous. To do otherwise would be to kill my career before it has even begun, which would also limit my ability to help many more patients in the future.

Although I am very biased, I think it should be on the onus of administration and our tenured professors to stand up against this madness, rather than on lone students to publicly put themselves at risk of debt and ruin. For now, I resist in the small ways that I can; I wish to do so more publicly when I am more secure.

[antoine-roquentin]

These pixels of joy may not seem like much to the average person: According to a 2015 Pew Research survey, a quarter of all adults regard most video games as a waste of time. But for Guyton, gaming is a hobby like any other — an activity that values a momentary feeling of immersion above other forms of success. And despite living on the margins, Guyton remains eager to spend what little coin he has, sometimes waiting in long lines for a piece of the latest digital adventure. There’s no shame, he says, in “wasting time” seeking fun in gigabytes of alternative realities. For him, gaming is as priceless as peace.

It’s no accident that a greater percentage of lower income people consider themselves “gamers” (the same Pew survey found that across income groups, although those making less than $30,000 a year were the least likely to report they played games, with only 46 percent saying so, low-income respondents were still the most likely to actually describe themselves as “gamers”). Chris Arnade, a photographer and author of the recent book Dignity: Seeking Respect in Back Row America, explains that gaming is “one of the few virtual communities open to a lot of lower-income people.” Arnade, who’s spent “a lot of time basically sleeping in cheap motels when I was on the road or in my van,” tells me that while looking for a good WiFi connection, he often came across people from families with Section 8 housing vouchers in search of prime gaming real estate “with their old, beat-up PC.”

Through his lens, Arnade has been clued into a more intimate, nuanced view of the low-income gaming community than most. As such, much of the discourse around gaming pisses him off. “This whole language of, ‘Young men should be doing something better with their time,’” he says. “Like what?”

But even within the gaming community, Arnade has noticed a discrepancy between how people judge rich gamers versus poor ones. “You have rich kids who game, but that’s not what I usually see people making fun of,” says Arnade, who believes that this sort of antagonism comes from the “idea that poor people shouldn’t be allowed to have fun.” “We celebrate consumption because our society is built on consumption,” he argues. “Yet when poor people consume, it seems ugly and crass.”

Pathetic and depressing sight. pic.twitter.com/GoeVrvV5kx

— Sohrab Ahmari (@SohrabAhmari) November 27, 2020

He uses the example of the way people look with disgust toward those who line up to get deals at GameStop on Black Friday because they don’t have a lot of money. “With something like the PS5, when there’s a new game launch or a new console launch, wealthy families like me, we pre-order well ahead of time and put a deposit down and put it on credit and that’s not really hard,” he says. “A lot of people can’t do that. I mean, they don’t even know they can do that. They don’t have the money to do that. They don’t have the cultural capital to know that you should do that.”...

According to K’ryzt (the online moniker of another gamer currently living in low-income housing), because gaming helps people create relationships with people outside of their own cultural bubble, “having affordable prices for consoles and gaming PCs is so important.” “Nowadays, voice chat is almost required in some respects for competitive games, from FPS [first person shooter] to raiding in MMOs [massively multiplayer online games],” he tells me. “When consoles are too expensive, they have a pretty steep barrier to entry for people who can’t afford them — and when the peripherals became more and more of a necessity to play games successfully, it’s important to make sure they’re priced in a way that it isn’t just gouging.”

Growing up, K’ryzt’s family was, he says, “fairly poor,” so he never had the next generation gaming system “until it was in its second-gen iteration.” “I got a PlayStation relatively shortly before the PS2 came out,” he says. His Gameboy Color was a hand-me-down from his then-church. “I worked summer jobs for my first PC, which wasn’t even a gaming PC — just some old stock Walmart Gateway [computer],” K’ryzt adds.

Echoing Arnade’s earlier point, K’ryzt tells me that what he’s found in gaming that he believes exists in few other places, is a level playing field. “Even in the case of pay-to-win loot boxes, you mostly have situations where skill trumps all,” he says. “So when you’re behind a computer screen and you’re playing a game with people from all over the world, they don’t know your economic or social status, what race or gender or orientation you are, or if you have a disability.”

In that way, K’ryzt says, gaming gives low-income people an opportunity to be on equal footing with their peers in a way that often isn’t true in real life. “When I log in to play Final Fantasy XIV, I’m a Male Miqo’te White Mage,” he says. “All that matters to the people around me is, ‘Does he heal well?’ And unless I reveal how I’m somehow different to them, I’m just another Warrior of Light.”

It helps, too, that apart from a few hundred dollars in start-up costs — which is steep, but can, according to Guyton, be “built up over time” — the thing about gaming is that unlike most real-world communities, be they professional or social, there isn’t an impenetrable barrier to entry. “Once you’re in, you’re in,” says Arnade. And though the language of gamers has long been the subject of controversy, in Guyton’s circle, it’s just “kind of bull-crapping around” and “just being weird to each other.” For him, that means sometimes doing “funny dances in the game and just acting out of context.”

“People seek status in different ways,” says Arnade. “[Low-income gamers] are never going to obtain status signifiers that rich people want, like a house,” he says. “That’s just too distant.” Instead, Arnade tells me, you seek the status you can obtain. And getting a new PS5 or, in Guyton’s case, a copy of Cyberpunk 2077 — which Guyton’s heard is “going to be really good” — is a piece of status that feels realistically within reach.

[pagingevilspawn]

Loving You Is A Losing Game - chapter nine

heyyy! it’s been a little while, but i did warn that updates on this book a going to get slower. lots of stuffs been going on with my family lately, so its been really hard to find time to sit down and write... but nevertheless, i hope you enjoy this chapter that i only like the second half of...

~*~

"how many pennies in the slot"

~*~

"when can i see you again?"

____

they had set a date. that night outside of joe's bar, they agreed that in just less than two weeks they would see each other again. paul would be out of town on a golfing trip like he did every last friday of the month, and alex would say that he had a family emergency. it wouldn't be hard to get a day off, just the words 'schizophrenic mother' would be enough to let him have a little while off.

so, on that early friday morning, alex stood in the trailer, packing up his suitcase with clothes while izzie continued to sleep peacefully, not needing to wake up for another twenty minutes or so. she had started back at work two days ago and he could tell it was taking a toll on her. she was more irritable and had been sleeping more, exhausted from being on her feet all day, a large comparison to being practically tied to a bed for twenty four hours straight.

he left a note, izzie knew that he was most likely going to be gone before she woke up that morning, but he wrote one anyway. 'gone to the airport. take your pills. love you'. it was short and sweet. he zipped up his suitcase slowly and quietly, careful not to wake his sleeping wife. before he heads out the door he takes one more glance at her and the guilt settles in deeper. he wasn't going to iowa, no, he was going to boston, to see another woman. a woman who wasn't his wife.

he considers not going for a second, calling off the whole trip and staying loyal to izzie, his wife. that's what he should do. the right thing.

but he has this desire in him, this burn. he needs this release, a sense of normalcy, and jo's the only one who can give it to him.

life was really screwed up sometimes.

he knew that someday, somehow, this would come back and blow up in his face, that was a given. but right now... right now he needs this. he needs to ramble on about stupid crap to jo while she does the same, stuff that he wouldn't talk about with izzie because he knew she wouldn't really care. stuff he wouldn't talk about with meredith or cristina because they would somehow circle the problem right back to them. 

he needed this, and he could tell that she did too.

so with that he exits the trailer and slings his small suitcase into the back seat of the cab he ordered, watching as the tin can he called home slowly grew smaller and smaller as he got further away from it. he pulls out his wallet when he reaches the ferry boat not long later, giving the driver a generous tip before stepping onto the dock, the early morning sun just barely peeking above the horizon, setting an orange and yellow tint to the blue water of the sound. it was calming, settling. for the first time he could see why shepherd loved them so much.

when he arrives on the mainland he takes another taxi to the airport, going through security and baggage check quickly, grabbing a straight black coffee from the starbucks by one of the many gift shops, settling himself into an uncomfortable black chair next to an old lady knitting some kind of scarf. it was an ugly thing, green and a weird puke yellow, but the woman seems to like it, so he doesn't judge. he pulls his phone out from his pocket and looks through it, checking to see if he had any notifications or texts. he responds to a few work emails, which was mainly lexie asking for some details on patients since she was covering his service for the next three days.

he doesn't need to wait long before he hears a woman's voice come over the intercom. "flight 270 to boston, group two now boarding." he picks up his suitcase and shows the attendant his ticket before making his way to his seat, which was thankfully an aisle. he places his suitcase in the overheard compartment, letting in his seat mates before him.

he pops a piece of spearmint gum into his mouth so his ears wouldn't get clogged on the way up, leaning back in his seat and drifting off to a much needed sleep. maybe sleep would help to settle his nerves. maybe sleep would bring him some peace.

____

to say jo was nervous was an understatement, she was terrified. for what, she wasn't quite sure. maybe she was worried paul would come home early and see that she wasn't there. maybe she was worried that her and alex wouldn't connect, like last time.

she really hoped that wouldn't be the case though. she needed this, she craved it. she needed the release, she needed the conversations over beer, she needed the ease of being together, even though what they were doing was far from it. easy, that is.

alex would be meeting her at the hotel not too far from her house, a ten minute drive or so. she had a small duffle bag filled with clothes, school textbooks (she still had to study, she was a med-student above anything else after all) and necessities like her toothbrush and comb. she checks the time on the clock on the wall. it was now 2:32. alex's flight landed at around two, and he was going to text her when he arrived at his hotel.

she lets out a long breath, biting her lower lip as she flops back onto her bed, turning on her phone for the hundredth time in the last five minutes, seeing if alex had texted her yet. her feelings were a combination of nerves and impatience. she needed him, right there, right now. she needed to feel something real.

ever since paul hit her two weeks ago she seemed like she was living in a dream world. her thoughts were more hazy and the life she was living just didn't seem all that real. (she didn't have brain damage, but she chalked it up to a sign of shock).

everything had shifted in those two weeks. paul was worse —angry all the time. instead of being greeted by the door with a kiss, it was now an order, either to make him coffee, snack, or some other kind of demand. she didn't know this paul. but, he would get better. she knew he would. people always say that after the honeymoon stage of marriage ends it gets harder. so she thought that that's where they were right now. the harder part.

luckily the bruise on her eye had faded, nearly completely gone by now. a little bit of concealer on the corner of her lid was just enough to cover the yellow spot so it was unrecognizable. she was thankful for that. she didn't want to have to explain why her eye was bruised to alex.

she closes her eyes and places a hand on her forehead, not needing to wait long before her phone buzzes in her hand.

alexandra: just got in a taxi. the driver says i'll be at the hotel in twenty.

joseph: okay, room 363 right?

alexandra: yep ;)

jo chuckles at his response (leave it up to alex to flirt through every text), zipping her duffle bag closed, and walking over to the mirror hanging above her dresser. she ruffles her hair before picking up a spare comb and brushing through it once more. she hated her hair sometimes. it didn't matter how many times she combed through it, it was tangled and knotted as hell five minutes later. she sets the brush down, exhaling a long sigh as she looks into her reflection, her seas of hazel staring right back at her.

she wanted to say that she regretted those three nights. she wanted to say she was going to regret the next three. but honestly? she couldn't. she knew the shame would be flowing through her body once they left the room. she knew that she would not be able to look at herself for a few days in the mirror, only being able to see a woman who cheats on her husband. she knew. but for some reason it didn't matter. she wanted to meet alex in that room for three days straight and let them confine in one another.

she wanted it. she needed it.

so with that thought, she slings the bag over her shoulder and exits the bedroom, closing the door behind her. she gets into a taxi she ordered and drives to the hyatt where alex was staying, nervously tapping her fingers on her knees the whole way, grateful that she had ordered a taxi and not chosen to drive her own car. (no way in hell was she going to pay for hotel parking.) besides, it's not like her and alex were going to be leaving the room much.

she grabs her phone out of her pocket and pulls up alex's contact. she couldn't check in, since the room was in alex's name.

joseph: you here yet?

alexandra: yeah, just set my stuff down.

joseph: okay, i'll be up in a few

jo flashes the woman at the receptionist's desk a polite smile before she can talk, entering the elevators and pressing the third floor button. when the doors close, soft tunes begin to play through the small space, a long groan escaping jo's lips. she hated elevator music. she hated it's stupid rhythm and the way it made you want to claw your eyes out. abso-freaking-lutely nothing was enjoyable about elevator music. when the steel doors open she couldn't get out of them fast enough, cursing under her breath about their 'stupid freaking songs'.

she finds the room quickly, taking in a deep breath before she raises her hand to knock. if she wanted to leave, now was the time. she could make a run for it, text him that she couldn't do it and ghost him after. but the truth is, she didn't want to. she wanted to knock on the damn door, open it and see alex once again. in person this time, not just over her phone. 

three knocks. an "it's open," is all it takes for her to swing the wooden door wide and be met with the face of alex karev, who had a small smirk on his features, looking her up and down, drinking in the sight of what's been on his mind non stop for the past month.

jo stands nervously in the doorway, leaning against the frame. she somewhat expected him not to show up. her whole life she'd been abandoned. who was she to expect a guy would fly across the country and cheat on his wife with her? and to show up would be a whole new thing.

but he did. it wasn't something to be proud of, but she didn't think he'd ever know how much it meant to her that he was there.

alex's smirk quirks up higher at one end, "personally... i think you're wearing too much clothes," he teases. that's all it takes for jo to drop her bag on the floor without a thought and jog over to him, pulling him down into a searing kiss.

the kiss was needy, frustrated. weeks of pent up emotions poured into it, burning their mouths with their desire for one another. her arms wrapped around the back of his neck, bodies pressed so tightly together there was no room in between them.

nothing mattered in that moment. it was just them, nobody else, nothing else. all they were was two bodies longing for the touch of one another, to caress their skin, to realize that everything was going to be just fine if they could kiss each other like that for just a little while.

it was just them.

____

jo and alex laid in the afterglow, the sun peeking through the curtains and setting a warm hue on their entangled bodies, limbs seeming to no longer belong to just one person. a calm silence surrounded them, a silence they desperately craved. it brought peace and promise, something they could both agree was a necessity right now in the chaotic mess that they had gotten themselves into.

she traces circles on his chest, eyes closed as he runs his fingers through her hair. her foot moved up and down his calf, nearly in sync with the way his hand twirled her brown locks. they were tired, exhausted after what they had just finished with each other, but they didn't want to fall asleep. the way their skin felt on each other, the fireworks going off in them was just too much to allow them to drift off. just being near each other seemed to heighten their adrenaline.

while she was focused on his chest and (now) making stars with her finger, he was staring at her lips. it was odd, how hers seemed to mold so perfectly into his. at the moment, her lips were swollen, a bright red tint glossing over them from their previous activities. a sight he enjoyed much more than he would ever admit.

they lay like that for a while, until jo shifts a bit, beginning to place tiny kisses on the side of his chest. "how's work been?" she asks, momentarily stopping the movement of her lips on his skin to look up at him, her eyes shining with genuine questioning.

alex moves his hand from her hair to her side, rubbing his thumb across the smooth skin that she possessed there. he pulls her closer to him, stifling his groan in her hair, making her let out a laugh —a sound he had grown more than fond of. "we’ve merged with one of the lower ranking hospitals, mercy west. which sucks."

he can feel jo pout against him. "i'm sorry." she says sincerely. 

he blows out a breath, "yeah. i can't stand any of these new people —none of us can, actually."

jo sits up, eyes locking with his, a teasing undertone shining through her words. "oh c'mon, how bad can they really be?"

alex smirks, taking her mock as a challenge. "well for starters, they're all a bunch of total kiss asses." he grins, making her chuckle against his palm. "i'm serious," he laughs, adjusting his position so he could now sit fully upright. "kepner has this little book, where she writes everything down in, and i mean everything," jo leans against the headboards, taking her hand in his larger one and begins to trace his fingers. 

"she never stops talking. she's like a freaking chihuahua. and she also got this huge thing for shepherd," he chuckles, thinking about how the girl practically melted every time the neurosurgeon entered the room. "she has her lips permanently superglued to his ass." 

jo hits his chest, trying to keep her laughs to a minimum. "i'm sure she's not that bad," she reasons. his curt glare is the only thing that told her that this kepner was in fact 'that bad'.  

“she’s terrible. never shuts up about jesus either. jesus wouldn’t approve of all the images she’d probably conjuring in her mind about shepherd though.” he snorts, amused at his own joke. jo rolls her eyes, biting back a smirk. 

“oh doctor shepherd, i’ve picked up your lab results. oh doctor shepherd, i’ll assist you on a surgery nobody else wants to even observe. oh doctor shepherd, i’ll do anything you want me to if that means i get to stare at you a little bit longer.” 

“please tell me you’re exaggerating.” 

alex scoffs, “i wish. worst part is, she does it while mer is in the room. i’m not sure if she doesn’t know he’s married or has just never had the hots for someone before. Because if she hasn’t, she’s making it painfully obvious.”

jo gives up on holding back her laughter, letting a little giggle escape her throat. “that’s… something,” she settles on. over the past few weeks she’d begun to learn nearly everything about alex and all of his friends’ crazy, soap-opera lives inside the walls of the hospital. what she retained is one; that they were all somehow related, either biologically or through sex, and two; people who worked at seattle grace were incredibly horny, to put it lightly. but that was a discussion for another time. 

“mhm, then adamson is just a-a bitch. yeah, she’s a huge bitch. don’t know how else to describe her other than that.” he leans over the side of the bed and ruffles through his carry-on bag, emerging with a bag of gummy bears. ripping the bag open he offers the candy to jo, who eagerly accepts and shoves at least four of the bears into her mouth at once. 

“percy’s just this… absolute giant. guy’s like, seventy feet tall. he’s also got this thing for adamson, who only sees him as her brother. it’s sad really, she calls him charlie and everything.” he fakes a pout, posing mock sympathy for the man he honestly wouldn’t even give the time of day to if he wasn’t currently invading his work place.

jo clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, “that’s a tough one.”

“yep.” he pops a few more gummy bears into his mouth, waiting until he finished them before talking again. (he one time tried to complete his story with food still in his mouth and jo had physically shut his jaw and forced him to chew until all of the pizza was gone. no way he was making that mistake again —jo was strong.) 

“don’t even get me started on avery. god, every time i see him i just wanna punch him.” that piqued jo’s interest, a teasing grin split across her lips. 

“are you jealous?”

alex scoffs, “god no. definitely not. i just can’t stand the guy. the dude looks like he should be on the cover of a fashion magazine, not inside of an OR. and, he gets standing ovations in the middle of the emergency room. oh yeah, plus he’s loaded, being harper avery’s grandson and all. i thought we were past the age of nepotism” 

jo’s eyes widen comically, snatching the bag of gummies out of his hand and tossing it across the room, cutting off alex’s loud display of protests at the fact that the candy was now scattered carelessly across the carpet. “harper avery’s grandson?!” she all but screeches. 

 alex visibly winces, “yes jo.” he replied, nodding his head and trying to figure out how the woman he thought he had gotten to know so well could emit that kind of sound. like one of those teenage girls who were obsessed with those movies about vampires and werewolves.  

“as in the harper avery award harper avery?”

“no jo,” alex deadpans, dramatically rolling his eyes. “the harper avery who owns the car dealership down the street —yes the harper avery award harper avery. who else would it be?” he gets up from the bed and starts collecting the gummy bears, dumping all the dirty ones into the trash while silently cheering when a good amount of them were still left in the bag. 

when he returns to his spot, jo slaps him across the chest. “asshole. there may be a lot of people out there who are named harper avery.” in her defense, there were seven point six billion people on the earth. it was highly likely a few people shared the same name as the former doctor. (at least one.)

“mhm. yeah, well, the guy’s an ass.” he argues, giving her the bag of candy in hopes that she won’t throw it across the room again.

jo’s eyebrows scrunch up as she tilts her head to the side, seemingly deep in thought. “you know you gotta become friends with him right?”

he lets out a bemused laugh, “tell me you’re joking.” he says.

she shakes her head, jutting out her bottom lip. “nope. i mean...there’s gotta be some benefits to befriending an avery, right?” surely, there would be some kind of advantage. extra… good points with the foundation? mentions about oneself to the famous catherine avery? (the more she ran it over in her head the worse it sounded, but there was no way she was gonna give up, because there had to be at least one advantage to being best bros with an avery.)

“sure,  i’ll keep that in mind.” he smirks, seeing how the wheels had stopped turning in that mind of her’s and were put to a rest once she realized the lack of good things that could come from being nice to mr. green eyes. 

“whatever jerk. help me with some of my homework, i don’t wanna do it and you’re the hotshot surgeon who already finished med-school and works at a big, fancy hospital. sound good doctor karev?” she teases, grabbing her books from her bag and dropping them down onto the bed, the heavy pages creating a loud thump that immediately sends alex back to his days in college. books scattered on his bedspread, day-old mcdonald’s cups on his side table, and packets of unhealthy snack foods thrown across the floor. he lets out a dramatic sigh, pretending to think it over before pulling a book and jo towards him. 

“so, biochemistry…”