#both suffered significant losses

[shit-people-probably-didnt-say]

I had a dream we went to America to go prom dress shopping and we drove past our first gun robbery of a store while the bus played Bella’s Lullaby from Twilight

[mayakern]

Things are bad right now.

As many of you know, way back in 2020 we weren’t sure if our business was gonna make it. Our factory was already on break for Lunar New Year–a month-long holiday for many businesses in the area–and with the announcement of COVID19, everything shut down indefinitely. We knew immediately we were in for a bad time. Despite our fears, our sales grew so far beyond anything we ever expected, to the point where we had to hire two employees just to keep up with demand! 

Unfortunately, even after our factory reopened, our problems were not over. Their quality drastically declined almost immediately, to the point that a significant amount of our  fabric would literally fall apart in transit between the factory and our office. Because of this, we discovered that our sales rep had no idea what she was doing and knew nothing about the factory she was representing, so when we told her the fabric was garbage her response was “👍 factory said it’s good!” At the beginning, only roughly 10% of our new product was defective and we were able to sell the affected items with a reasonable discount. By the end of our relationship with that factory, 40% of our midi skirts and 70% of our miniskirts were defective, some affected so severely that they practically fell apart when touched. And still, our rep said everything was fine and there were no problems and the fabric composition had not changed.

So in 2022 we changed factories. We hired Ash to handle this since I was way too busy managing fulfillment to do the amount of research and communication necessary to find us a factory that met our criteria. Finding clothing factories that can make clothing over a size 2-3X is significantly more difficult than one that can’t because it often requires larger and more expensive machinery. But Ash did it: she got us set up with a new factory that has excellent certifications for both their labor practices and their methods for textile production, that delivers consistent, high quality sewing on well made fabric that can be printed without suffering loss in detail–and she was armored with the knowledge for what makes a quality garment so she could check them if they tried to screw us on quality. Their minimum orders were way higher than our previous factory’s, so we decided to focus on ordering more units of fewer designs. We ordered way too much our first round–some of those designs were in stock until the 2024 blowout sale! But it worked out, and slowly we had a warehouse full of stuff to sell.

Fast forward to 2024, business is slowing down between the economy being bad and what seemed to be a general skirt fatigue amongst our customers. We tried expanding into shirts, which would’ve been successful if our minimums were lower. In the late spring we realized we were in trouble if we didn’t make drastic changes and we ultimately decided to end in-house fulfillment and transfer to a third party fulfillment center that would support domestic shipping in Canada and eventually the UK, EU, and Australia. In order to make that transition affordable we drastically discounted everything and that sale was super successful! We were able to begin shipping from the fulfillment center with an almost clean slate, even if it did mean having to close the store for almost two months and thereby missing out on two very important months of sales.

Unfortunately, we were stupid. We continued to order new designs on an every other month schedule instead of switching to an every month schedule, forgetting that having a backstock in a variety of designs is what previously helped us float between orders and now we quite literally didn’t have enough inventory to match the sales we made for last year’s holiday sale.

That brings us to now.

We’re a little stuck. We have a round of skirts in production (yay!) but they won’t get here until February (boo!). To get back on that monthly cycle we would need to order the next round of skirts right now, but we can’t pay for production until that next round of skirts gets here; if the current sale goes well, it’s paying payroll, not production. We are currently in the very difficult, horrible situation of not having enough money for next month’s payroll unless we are somehow able to make significant sales with our very sparse inventory.

We’re scrappy and we do our best to adapt to disasters and I’m sure we’ll find a way to adapt to this one as well, it’ll just take us some time to get there. Basically we’re going to be okay eventually–hopefully later this year–but in the meantime if we seem frantic, now you know why. 

If you’re been considering trying out our viscose shirts but haven’t been able to justify paying full price, they’re on clearance PLUS half off right now! That’s $9-$15 for the viscose tops, and other tops on clearance are $20-$45. Some of the shirts we’re having a LOT of trouble selling are now priced below cost to help us recoup some of the money we spent making them.

Any amount of support helps right now. Sharing posts, telling your friends, buying a $9 shirt–all of it helps. If our clothing isn’t your thing, we also have a Patreon you can support for as little as $1 a month. https://www.patreon.com/mayakern

Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you have a great rest of your day and that 2025 is a brighter, kinder year for us all.

[technijianravi]

Critical Windows Update: Apply Patch Now to Prevent Black Basta Ransomware

[cosmicpuzzle]

Saturn ‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧in Houses

Saturn in 1st House

You have a serious personal manner and can come across to others as cool and reserved. Generally, you don't speak or act without good reason or intention. You are naturally prudent and careful, with good self-control and self-discipline. Your early life may have been difficult, with hardships or limitations to overcome. Yet, you have the power to achieve positions of prominence and responsibility in life through sheer hard work and perseverance. At times, you can be too serious and given to bouts of discontentment and gloominess. You tend not to suffer fools easily.

Saturn in 2nd House

Financial success and wealth comes through good old-fashioned hard work and effort. You find out from an early age that you get what you work for and that there are no free lunches. As a rule, you tend to be cautious and careful with regard to spending money and investing. Deep down, you have a fear of poverty, especially in later life and will take steps to make yourself as financially secure as possible. At times, you can be frugal and stingy.

Saturn in 3rd House

You are a deep and contemplative thinker, who is capable of profound thought and mental concentration. You have good reasoning powers and may demonstrate the ability for scientific thought or mathematics. However, you may lack intellectual confidence or experience disruptions in your early education. You are a serious person with little interest in idle chatter or light conversation. Relations with siblings or neighbours can be strained at times.

Saturn in 4th House

Your home and family life are very important to you; however there can be difficulties attaining domestic harmony and security. You may experience hardship in your place of birth, which is only alleviated by moving to another locality or country. There could be difficulties in your relationship with one or both of your parents, with the possibility of physical or emotional separation from the father in particular. Also, you may have to take responsibility for an aged parent. Personal wisdom comes with age and maturity.

Saturn in 5th House

Your romantic life has its challenges; there may be delays, disappointments and restricted opportunities in your love life, with experiences of emotional coolness and sexual dissatisfaction. However, attractions to those who are older or more mature can lead to stable and lasting relationships. Difficulties may be experienced in having or relating to children and there may be a tendency to be too strict or formal with them. Creative and social skills are acquired through effort and determination. Financial speculations should be approached cautiously.

Saturn in 6th House

You take your work seriously and are a stickler for correct procedure. You have little tolerance for shirkers in the workplace. At times, there can be difficulties with employment matters. If you are an employer, you may experience problems with staff, such as losses, deception and unreliability. You may experience health problems through inadequacies in your diet, or through worry or overwork

Saturn in 7th House

You view relationships with others seriously and realistically. You have a strong sense of responsibility towards others and desire fairness in your dealings with people. Marriage or significant partnerships tend to be stable and enduring. Equally, however, coolness or emotional remoteness within marriage can lead to difficulties, feelings of loneliness and separation. You may be attracted to others of a wide age difference to you. Possibly, a partner may be obstructive, critical and uncooperative. Opponents or enemies can be persistent and relentless; and legal difficulties may be experienced.

Saturn in 8th House

The financial affairs of your personal or professional partners are likely to be an ongoing source of concern or worry for you. It is possible that a partner may experience problems or struggles with money, or cause you personal financial difficulties. Tax matters or inheritances may be a burden and if mishandled could possibly result in legal action. Loans from banks or lending institutions may not be easily obtained.

Saturn in 9th House

You may develop a serious interest in higher learning, philosophy, law and metaphysical knowledge and diligently apply yourself to their study. You tend to have strong convictions, either for or against, spiritual and religious beliefs. Age and life-experience can bring wisdom, but this is dependent on your attitude and handling of life's challenges. You could experience troubles and loss through legal disputes and difficulties may be encountered during long distance travel.

Saturn in 10th House

Vocational matters are of supreme importance to you, and you'll work hard to achieve your professional ambitions. You may experience obstructions in your career, but these can be overcome with perseverance and endurance. Your desire to attain success and positions of power and authority is strong and realizable. However, the potential for a fall from grace or a reversal in fortune is just as strong, if you abuse your position.

Saturn in 11th House

You can be a bit of a loner and sometimes feel uncomfortable in social situations. You tend not to make friends easily; however you have the ability to cultivate genuine and long lasting friendships through sincere effort and steadfast loyalty. You can gain through the patronage and goodwill of older and experienced benefactors. Take care that you don't fall victim to false or deceitful acquaintances.

Saturn in 12th House

You are an intensely private person, who needs frequent seclusion and time out from the demands and pressures of life. You work at your best behind-the-scenes and can be involved with institutions, such as hospitals, universities or government departments. In general, you tend not to be overly concerned with the need for public recognition, preferring instead a quiet and simple life if possible. You may suffer from inexplicable fears and anxieties, and possibly at the hands of false friends or secret enemies. On occasion, you can literally feel confined or restricted.

For Readings DM

[ozzgin]

A nice character with a yandere split persona. The Yandere persona was born out of the abandonment of the character by a loved one, maybe mom. Did he kill her just so she could stay? Maybe. Only the Yandere persona knows, the character is oblivious, he just knows his mom left him. But he oddly feels ok about it as though the situation has been reconciled... which is weird to him.

Now he meets and falls in love with yn. She must not leave. It's f around and find out

Btw I love you ❤️❤️❤️ The Yokai series is my fave

Yandere! Serial Killer x Reader

You're temporarily staying with a kind, quiet man renting out a room in the house he inherited. It's just the two of you, and a locked bedroom he claims to be vacant. Yet as night falls, you hear the whispered arguing of a voice you don't recognize. Is anyone else there? Content/TW: female reader, mentions of murder, obsessive behavior, horror [Part 2] | [Yandere Masterlist]

You must break the pattern today, or the loop with repeat tomorrow

He stares at the locked drawer of the bureau. The clock ticking in the background fades into an irritating buzz, drumming against his ears at irregular intervals like a swarm of insects. Once again, he cannot remember where the key is. Yet he does not feel compelled to search for it. It cannot be anything of significance, he tells himself. Forgotten knick-knacks, perhaps. Despite the apparent lack of curiosity, he is drawn here every morning. He wakes up, carefully folds the sheets, and goes to sit in the office. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Until, at last, the noon hour strikes, and the hallways are flooded with ghastly chimes.

Lately, however, other sounds have taken over the usual silence that envelops the house. The main door rattles faintly before opening with a creak.

“They were out of our bread rolls. I got a baguette instead.”

It’s you.

He stands up, as if startled from deep slumber, and hurries downstairs to greet you. He takes the grocery bags from your hands, flashing a smile of gratitude. Somehow, the idea of another person living here is still foreign to him. He’s gotten so used to the solitude, the quietness of the house. Time stands still when there’s no one else to remind you of it.

You glance up at the tall man, noticing his slight frown.

“Another brain fog?” You ask, worried.

“Don’t mind me. It’s a morning routine at this point”, he jokes. “More importantly, what would you like for breakfast?”

He always cooks for both of you. Initially, you were rather hesitant to go for his offer. You’d been looking for temporary accommodation and stumbled upon his advertisement. A cozy, vintage house the man had inherited from his lamentably departed mother, with one too many spare rooms. He had no need for all the space, he said in his description. You paid him a visit and were taken aback by his appearance. A massive, muscular frame that did not fit the rest of his mannerisms and features. He was soft-spoken, polite, and terribly shy. His eyes reflected the kind of gloom to be expected from anyone in his situation.

A sweet, gentle soul looking for company. On top of that, if you are to be technical, he’s a housemate difficult to compete against. Well-kept, mannered, organized, and thoughtful. He keeps to himself. You’d learned, soon after moving in, that he suffers from the occasional brain fog and memory loss. He goes for walks at odd hours to clear his mind. Enjoys reading in his office, although you’ve caught him just staring into space many times. Terribly inconvenient for the poor lad, you imagine.

The house itself is also not a bad deal by any means. Old fashioned, littered with trinkets and paintings. “My mother liked to collect many things”, he’d told you. It certainly has personality, to put it mildly. Some belongings are more bizarre than others: portraits of faceless people, with features smudged or distorted, doll heads in pompous, feathered collars hanging in clusters across the musty walls. Peculiar, but manageable.

Only at night does it become unsettling.

“Going for a walk?”

You’re curled in one of the armchairs, flipping through a magazine you found. It’s been hours since your little breakfast together and now the sun is beginning to set. The man is buttoning up his coat, standing in the doorframe and gazing at you with a smile.

“Yeah. I’m starting to detach a little. Maybe some fresh air will help.”

It’s nice, he thinks, having you here. He didn’t expect much when he ventured to rent out a room. He just wanted to hear the murmur of life again. Ever since his mother has passed…when did it happen, again? Better yet, how did it happen? Christ, he can’t remember. The last memory he has of her is not something to cherish. She was angrily shoving him out of the way, visibly annoyed by his cries and pleading. “Please don’t leave me”, he kept croaking in a pathetic tone, dragging his knees like a beggar. Then it’s all black. Black, like the cover they kept over her body at the morgue, to hide the mutilated remains. Black, like the tie he struggled to knot before her funeral. At that time, the sheets of her bed were still scattered, as if she never left. He could almost see her there, reflected onto the mirror’s surface – rather dirty as a matter of fact, he should wipe it soon – sitting melancholically on the edge of the mattress.

To think he’d be hearing footsteps again. A soothing voice. Even if it’s temporary, your presence in the house has been a blessing. Even if you must leave eventually. His lips purse involuntarily.

You hear the door close, followed by the key twisting inside the lock. You’re alone now.

With haste, you get up and sprint upstairs. You pull out a hairpin from your pocket and discreetly insert it in the cylinder. Today you find out if the spare bedroom truly is as vacant as your housemate claims.

When you first viewed the house, he mentioned that only this room will remain locked. It was his mother’s and he’d rather not look at it, he said. Let it gather dust, for all he cares.

Only at night, you’ve been hearing someone else’s voice. It didn’t happen immediately. Weeks after you’d moved in, you woke up thirsty and tiptoed on your way to the kitchen for a glass of water. On your return, you were surprised to see dim light coming from underneath the door of the forbidden bedroom. Visitors of your housemate? You hurried back into your bed, not wanting to intrude. But the following night you jolted up from the same mumbled voice. Strange that he’d invite someone over this late - twice in a row! - without saying a word to you. Even more, they were arguing like this. Curiosity got the better of you, so you snuck out and placed your cupped ear against the wall.

“No, no, no, no. I’m telling you, it’s different. She’s different from the others.” A deep, ragged voice retorted angrily.

Suddenly, there was a loud thud, a fist smashing against something, then glass shattering over exasperated, shouted curses. You ran back to your room, baffled. Who on Earth was there? You could feel your heart throbbing inside your chest.

Morning couldn’t come quick enough. You marched over to your housemate, demanding to know who this stranger was. He stared at you, wide eyed and incredulous. “There’s no one else here, dear. Just you and me.” Nonsense. You knew what you heard. You’d been wide awake! He gently placed the back of his hand against your forehead. “Could it be that you’re sick? Weather has been dreadful lately.” You scanned his face with hitched breath. Was he mocking you? Yet his features betrayed no such intent. The man seemed genuinely worried; face twisted in a caring frown.

Then what? A ghost? An intruder that fancied having a chat in a dead woman’s bedroom?

You fiddle with the pin until you hear the click. Finally. Surely whoever has been frequenting the place must’ve left some clues behind. You carefully open the door and peek inside. A broken mirror and some furniture covered in webs. There’s a lingering rusty smell that tickles your nostrils, and soon enough you find the source. Next to the old bed lays a cloth splattered red. On top of it, a leather folder from which scalpels and other surgical tools fell out haphazardly. Blood? Your mouth curls in disgust. You crouch to the floor to inspect the odd items and notice a jar glistening from underneath the bed. You pull it towards you and give it a rattle. Nothing heavy. You lift the jar into the light for a better look and gasp.

Fingernails.

“Oh, I forgot to put those away.”

It’s the same deep voice you’ve been hearing at night. Your stomach drops and you turn, slowly, towards the entrance. Horror is swiftly replaced by confusion once you realize it’s none other than your housemate.

“Y-you’re back from your walk?” You blurt out.

“Walk?” He inquires. “Ah, that’s what he told you.” He steps towards you and lowers himself to your level with a grin.

“Have you come to say hello?” He points towards the tall, shattered mirror. “This is (Y/N), mother. See, I told you she’s stunning. You didn’t believe me.”

He ruffles your hair with a boldness completely unfamiliar.

Nausea overwhelms you and your ears ring in panic. Whatever is happening right now is beyond your understanding.

“I’d like to go to my room now.”

“I recognize that speech all too well. You want to run away.”

Within seconds, he grabs one of the scalpels and points it towards your throat, poking your skin with its cold tip.

“Now, don’t embarrass me in front of her like that. Do you know how hard it is to convince this bitch of anything? I told her you’re not like them, (Y/N). Don’t prove me wrong.”

“Them?” You whisper, lungs devoid of air.

“Come, let’s put this with the others first.” He pockets the scalpel and lifts you up by the hand, tenderly kissing your fingers in the process. “Then we can talk.”

You follow him into the office, and he unlocks one of the desk drawers. Against your better judgment, you stretch over his shoulder and glance inside. ID cards of various women, jewelry, lipsticks. Teeth. Fingernails.

You want to cry.

He nonchalantly dumps the contents of the jar into the drawer and slams it back shut, then throws himself in the chair and pats his thigh, eyeing you. With a sob, you clumsily climb onto his lap.

“Back to our matters. What were you planning on doing?”

“I just wanted to lay in bed.”

He takes out the scalpel and draws a line across your cheek. It stings.

“Don’t lie, (Y/N). You have nothing to gain from being naughty with me.” He coos, placing a kiss over the fresh wound.

“I wanted to run away.” You confess, petrified.

“Good. Do you now understand what happens if you try to run away?”

You briefly look at the drawer and nod.

“I knew you would. You’re so smart.” He strokes your hair fondly. “Not an easy decision to make, mind you. I love you more than anything in this world. Who’d enjoy killing their one and only?”

The man ponders his next words with a hum.

“Don’t count on getting away while he’s awake, either.” He taps his temple and chuckles. “He has no idea and won’t stop you, but I can easily find you again.”

The eggs sizzle in the pan as you stare at your plate, background sounds melting into shapeless static. After a couple more minutes, the man turns off the stove and places the food on the table with a cheerful whistle.

“Eat up!” He encourages you.

You hold onto your fork with faintly trembling hands.

“This might be the last breakfast I cook for you, after all. You’re leaving tomorrow, aren’t you?” His last sentence trails off and he smiles, dejected.

“Actually, I was wondering if I could…stay here instead.”

He gazes at you in disbelief.

“Truly? I-…That’d be fantastic.” He laughs awkwardly and scratches the back of his head, a deep red blush spreading over his cheeks. “Do excuse my rudeness. To be honest with you, I’ve grown quite fond of our arrangement. I really do like having you here.”

You return the smile without responding.

“Most exciting news. I’ll get the documents from the office after we eat, so we can draft a new lease.”

“That’d be lovely”, you answer curtly.

“Say, have you by any chance stumbled upon a small key around the house? I wanted to finally unlock the drawer upstairs, but I can’t remember where I could’ve left it.”

The knot in your stomach tightens.

“Not at all.”

“Don’t sweat it. I’m sure it’s nothing important, anyways. Old memorabilia, most likely.”

[trampleddoves]

Cautiously dropping a blurb request for public sex with spencer.

Doesn’t have to be full-on sex if you don’t want to, could be hand or blow. Really up to you, lovely writer!

s. r. blurb 6

contents: afab!reader, fingering, public sex, slightly an extension of free use kink, edging, MDNI

You’re convinced you’re dating an evil genius. Absolutely, without a doubt sure of it.

Only, his evil plans don’t revolve around inflicting pain and suffering, nor is it to take over the world—although you’re sure he could probably do this should he decide to. No, it’s simply to torture you in the most inopportune, incredibly inappropriate times.

Case in point: right now, at dinner. Under normal circumstances, you’d welcome it, spread your legs willingly under the dinner table as he toyed with your folds. It’s part of your free use agreement anyway, one that you had brought up and willingly, enthusiastically agreed to.

Right now though, meeting the rest of his team—who also happen to be the people he considers his family—for the first time? In David Rossi’s beautiful, sophisticated manor?

Well, if you’re being honest, you find it even hotter. 

That’s where the evil part comes in. Because Spencer knows you’d find it hot. And he’s willing to exploit your urges, regardless of how significant this dinner is for both of you.

So you’re sitting there, nodding along to JJ’s story of intrusive media people from her days working in communication, while your boyfriend, certified evil genius Spencer Reid, has two fingers buried deep in your cunt. He’s not even thrusting them, he’s managed to locate that spongy place inside you and is currently rubbing at it with the tips of his fingers.

You’re proud of how casual your words sound as you respond to JJ, manage to ask questions to Luke. Still completely present and functional, all while your boyfriend fingers you under the table. He contributes something to the conversation, making the BAU members laugh, all the while rubbing the heel of his palm to your clit. 

You bring a large bite of mashed potatoes into your mouth to muffle the moan threatening to escape. As the conversations continue, so do his ministrations, thrusting his fingers shallowly, before adding at third. This makes you sputter and choke on your wine, prompting him to act concerned and loving. The perfect boyfriend, asking you what’s wrong, as though he wasn’t the cause of it in the first place.

Finally, for dessert, just as you’re clenching around his fingers, nearing completion, he pulls them out of you before excusing himself to the bathroom. You manage to take a sip of your drink just in time, allowing yourself the dignity of silence at the loss of his fingers.

Evil, evil genius. The entire car ride home, you’re a pouty mess, barely talking to him as he drives the two of you to your shared apartment. He doesn’t mind—it’s part of the dance, this dynamic you’ve both perfected through months of love and communication. 

And part of his plan. Because when the two of you are finally safe behind closed doors, he can spend the rest of the night ravishing you to make up for his indiscretions at dinner.

Evil genius, at your expense. And you love every single moment of it anyway.

[muzaktomyears]

The secret messages Lennon and McCartney hid in the Beatles’ songs

As Ian Leslie’s superb book John & Paul explains, the greatest songwriting partnership in pop history was a volatile and tortured one

★★★★★ 5/5

John Lennon and Paul McCartney in November 1963

John Lennon and Paul McCartney may have been only half of the Fab Four, but don’t expect Ian Leslie to write a “George and Ringo” book. The Beatles’ beating heart was always Lennon and McCartney. In John & Paul: A Love Story in Songs, Leslie, whose previous books have focused on applied philosophy, examines their relationship through the lens of individual tracks. We’re taken from Come Go With Me, the doo-wop number that Lennon sang at a Woolton church fete in 1957 when the pair met, to Here Today, McCartney’s 1981 tribute to his murdered friend.

The Lennon-McCartney songwriting powerhouse, which would produce around 180 songs, began in earnest in 1962 after the two men made the decision to sideline George Harrison. (Ironically, the latter’s Here Comes the Sun, from 1969, is today the most streamed Beatles song on Spotify.) Their partnership became a private dialogue, even as millions fell in love with the music. Few knew, for example, that Lennon’s I Don’t Want to Spoil the Party, a 1964 Beatles song, was raking over McCartney’s real-life 21st birthday celebrations a year earlier, during which Lennon had savagely beat up Cavern compère Bob Wooler for joking that the singer’s holiday with gay Beatles manager Brian Epstein had been a “honeymoon”. 

Wracked by self-doubt even as the Beatles conquered the world, Lennon developed what Leslie describes as a “charisma of vulnerability”, evident in the lyrics of Strawberry Fields Forever, a track “finely poised between dream and nightmare”. It inspired McCartney to write the single’s flipside, Penny Lane. Both lyrics swathe in surreality various Liverpool locations that were significant to their writers. Leslie imagines the songs “facing each other, deep in conversation. Radically different, but umbilically connected.”

Early Lennon-McCartney songs were written “eyeball-to-eyeball”, quite literally: Leslie notes the “intensity” of the duo’s eye-contact in Peter Jackson’s 2021 documentary The Beatles: Get Back. “When John wasn’t being looked at by Paul,” Leslie writes, “he didn’t know who he was supposed to be.” (Or, as Lennon tells McCartney in Get Back, as they work on Two of Us: “It’s like you and me are lovers.”) In the Beatles’ final public performance, on their Savile Row rooftop in January 1969, Leslie suggests that “Paul can see that John is happy, and because John is happy, Paul is euphoric.” In recent live concerts, McCartney has used the footage in a virtual “duet” with Lennon.

Leslie’s analysis, empathetic and carefully sourced, reaches its apogee with his account of the rift that emerged in India in 1968. The Beatles had gone to Rishikesh for meditation and enlightenment under the tutelage of the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi. Lennon and McCartney wrote scores of songs there, including most of the “White Album”. 

But in this spiritual and creative idyll, Lennon suffered a breakdown. He had long harboured feelings of betrayal and loss: abandoned by his parents, he was brought up by an aunt; when in his teens he got to know his mother, she was killed in a road accident. His close friend and original Beatle Stuart Sutcliffe had died; so, more recently, had Epstein. The Maharishi hadn’t brought an end to the trauma as Lennon had hoped: worse, to Lennon McCartney seemed indifferent to his pain, and left Rishikesh early without him. Back in London, in a drug-fuelled madness, Lennon announced to the rest of the Beatles that he was Jesus, and howled with pain on the song Yer Blues. 

Lennon in 1975, post-Beatles break-up, with Yoko Ono (l) at a London protest 

After the Beatles stopped touring in 1966, the two men had spent less time together. Lennon sank into depression. His musical dialogue with McCartney continued, even after the Beatles split in 1970, but it took a darker form: listen to How Do You Sleep?, a 1971 anti-McCartney diatribe that contains the line “The only thing you did was yesterday.” Yesterday, the first Beatles recording to have featured just one member of the group (McCartney), remained as much a source of bitterness for Lennon as of wonder. He asked a friend whether Imagine was “as good as Yesterday”. Conversely, in his 1973 song I Know (I Know), by which time post-split tempers had cooled, Lennon would sing: “I love you more than yesterday.” 

John & Paul is an elegantly written and original telling of the Beatles’ story, which is as enthralling and astonishing as their music. There are fresh insights for the most seasoned Fab Four fan. Decades after their split, listening to the Beatles can still yield new rewards, and Leslie is an expert listener. As he puts it, describing Hey Jude: “What started so modestly, one human addressing another, culminates in this massed glory.”

(source)

[the20thangel]

The Dragon and The Raven a Benjicot (davos) Blackwood x Targaryen Oc Fanfiction

Davos (Not Bloody Ben, but the fandom likes him) Blackwood has a hold of me! So I decided to FanCast the actor Kerian Burton as Benjicot in the fanfiction of Benjicot Blackwood/ OC Targaryen. I hope you all enjoy. (Can also be found on A03 under the same title.)

Disclaimer: I am rusty on my writing, so please, I ask for kindness when reading; remember, this is written in good fun, and because I am keeping hope, Kerian is brought back as an actual Benjicot!

Keep up with the story: masterlist

“House Blackwood and House Bracken have engaged each other, which is being called the first battle of the war, the Battle of Burning Mill.”

Stated Maester Gerardys as everyone in the throne room sat in tense silence, looking at their Queen. Queen Rhaenyra looked back at her council, knowing how at state this battle had come. The realm is officially at war, on one side, the Blacks and the other Greens. House Blackwood had declared for her, while Bracken for her usurper of a brother. On the other side of the war table stood Prince Jacaerys with his younger sister, Princess Aemma, while Jacaerys was born with brown hair and eyes. Aemma was graced with Velayron's white hair, although not as coily but with looser curls like her mother’s, with violet eyes and a slight tan to her skin. Her face was uncanny to her namesake, so much that her kingly grandsire wept when he first held her. She was the proof that her mother and father, Laenor Velayron, could produce heirs to the realm and dissuade any rumors from the greens… that was until her beloved brother Luke was born.

 Aemma knew what this meant; if House Blackwood and Bracken had engaged, each declaring to be fighting for either faction, there was no turning back; war was here. Aemma snapped out of her thoughts to her mother, asking about the casualties. 

“Both sides have suffered significant losses, my Queen. Samwell and Davos Blackwood, as well as Amos Bracken, have all fallen,” Gerardys explained, his voice carrying the weight of the news as he rummaged through his notes. 

“Benjicot Blackwood, Davos’s Twin Brother, is now Lord of Raventree Hall, and he has reaffirmed his father’s and brother's claim of declaring as you Queen Rhaenyra, the true ruler of the seven kingdoms.” 

“House Blackwood has excellent numbers for soldiers; this will benefit our cause, your Grace. Once Prince Daemon takes Harrenhall and has House Blackwood stationed there, the rest of the Riverlands will soon follow to showcase our true power to the greens.” 

Aemma’s grandmother, Princess Rhaenys, stated as she entered the throne room. Rhaenys paused at Aemma to grace her with a smile and a quick hug before sitting beside her mother. Aemma noticed the lack of greeting towards her brother, remembering that she was their grandmother’s favorite among her mother's children. Most likely, it was due to looking the closest to Ser Laenor. 

Nevertheless, Jace did not seem to notice, “We should thank them, Mother, to show them how much we appreciate their support,” exclaimed Jace before continuing. “I will go to Raventree hall personally, and -” 

“No! No, Jace, I need you here as my heir,” rebuffed Rhaenyra. Aemma’s heart pulled, knowing ever since Luke, their mother has been grieving and fearing that more of her children will be taken from her. That is why she had made the difficult decision to send Joffery, Aegon, and Viserys to the Vale. Ensure the youngest are safe from the horrors this war is to bring. 

“We will send a raven thanking Lord Benjicot for his pledge. Now, is there anything else that we need to discuss today?” 

The lords all scanned each other before shaking their heads no. With that, each stood and left the hall individually, leaving only Jacaerys, Aemma, Rhaenys, and Rhaeynra in the room. 

“Rhaeynra, what Jace said is true; we should show appreciation to House Blackwood, especially after they lost so much for our case,” argued Rhaenys while Rhaeynra looked down and played with her rings, showing off her nervousness. 

“We will, as I stated, a raven will be sent to them and-” 

Aemma moved forward to her mother, “ Muna, as much as that is a good idea, I feel a simple raven will not be enough. If Jace cannot go, then let me.” 

Rhaeynra stood up from her seat and took Aemma's face into her hands while shaking her head. 

“ Absolutely not; I will not be sending you, my pearl, where Aemond or worse, Aegon can capture you… my heart will not be able to take it.” Whispered Rhaeynra, tears welling up in her eyes. 

Aemma closed her eyes and exhaled. She understood her mother’s worry, but she had the blood of the dragon and is the rider of Sliverwing, Good Queen Alyssane’s previous mount.  She was raised by the Rouge Prince and the Queen who Never Was. She knew how to fight; how could her mother expect to find more allies if she hindered her decisions due to her fears? 

“Muna, I am the princess of blood. We need to bring in our allies. It's true that Jace is your heir and needs to be by your side. So let me be the protector of our family and invoke the creed of Belon the Brave. If our allies, especially House Blackwood, see that someone is personally sent to thank them for their support, they will never have thought of betrayal in their minds.” Soothed Aemma as she took her mother's hands into her own—Violet staring at Violet. 

Aemma could see her mother wavering, for Rhaeynra knew her daughter’s words speak truth. Her daughter had a natural charm inherited from her father, but behind those sweet words and charming smiles hid the cunning nature her daughter had learned from Daemon. Aemma was indeed both Leanor and Daemon’s daughter. 

Rhaeynra sighed before nodding, “Very well, Aemma, you will go to Raventree Hall with my message, food, and medical supplies to help replenish House Blackwood… Please be safe.” 

Princess Aemma bowed to her mother and left to ready herself and Silverwing for the Journey. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Upon reaching RavenTree Hall, Aemma wanted to weep; as she walked around, so many bodies littered the hall to be prepared for burial. Aemma stopped at a lanky young man with brown hair, his face covered with blood, wearing proudly the red and black colors similar to her own house. Looking at him made Aemma want to cry; he reminded her so much of Lucerys, her sweet brother taken from them by her kin-slaying uncle. 

“ Davos Blackwood, my princess.” 

Broke Aemma’s staring, as she flushed with embarrassment at being caught staring, which could be seen as rude, especially her being a guest. Aemma turned to its owner's husky yet shy voice and breathed sharply as she stared at the young man before her. Who looked almost exactly like the young man she was just staring at. 

The young man was looking down at the body for a second before raising his sight to Aemma and bowing to her before speaking again.

“That is Davos Blackwood… he... he was my twin brother.” Aemma realized now that Benjicot Blackwood was speaking quietly with great sadness as she could again relate, her wound of losing a dear brother being opened again. 

Aemma could only give a small smile in hopes of soothing the ache as she greeted the newly appointed lord of Raventree Hall. 

“Lord Benjicot, my mother and I thank you for receiving me into your home, especially in this trying time; I wish to express sorrow for the loss of your father and twin brother.” 

She could see more and more people stopping to stare at her and Benjicot, wanting to hear their conversation. Benjicot himself returned a shy smile to the princess. 

“Thank you, my princess-”

“Aemma.” Stated the princess before continuing, “ You may call me Aemma, but I fear I will grow tired of hearing ‘my princess’ so much.” 

Benjicot stared at Princess Aemma for a second before changing his smile to more of a smirk. 

“Very, Aemma. Thank you for your condolences. I ask you to call me Benji or Ben. It seems only fair.” 

Aemma returned her smile, feeling more confident than before, and returned to staring across the hall. Benji followed her sight, seeing his twin in the masses and understanding that the princess truly understood his pain. For she also had lost a father and brother. With a newfound ease, he asked the princess to join him for a tour of his hall, not wanting to be stared at by his people and not wanting to stay too close to his brother, for it hurt too much to look at him still. Asking for an arm to be hooked around his, he began his tour around the hall. As they walked out of the hall, Benjicot was greeted with a Dragon’s Shrill and a laugh that sounded as sweet as wind chimes. Turning, he saw Princess Aemma unhook her arm from him and gracefully sprint to her dragon, Sliverwing. Weary of the dragon, he soon followed the princess and came close enough to hear her speaking High Valyrian. 

“Lykiri, issa dōna hāedar,” Aemma whispered as she petted her dragon, knowing Benji was staring at her. 

What she didn’t see was the awestricken face Benjicot had. He had always heard Valyrians were considered higher to men and closer to gods. He never really believed it until now. The Princess, still in her riding leathers and loosely braided pale white hair, seemed like a beautiful warrior angel. She was known as the Pearl of the Realm for a reason. When Aemma turned to him, Benjicot could not help but feel his cheeks blush as those violet bejeweled eyes stared at him. 

“Have you ever come into close contact with a dragon before?” Asked Aemma, although she already knew the answer. 

Benjicot shook his head no, “ Never, my princes- um, Aemma.” He quickly caught himself as Aemma graced him with another laugh. 

“Would you like to? Come meet my Silverwing.” Aemma took hold of his hand and pulled him closer to her until her body flushed to his as she raised their intertwined hands to Sliverwing’s snout. 

The She-dragon huffed at the unfamiliar scent near her princess before calming to the soothing voice. 

“Shh, Sliverwing, Lykiri, sweet one, we mustn’t scare away our host.” Whispered the princess; she guided Benjico’s hand to rub her snout. At the same time, she was using her other hand to soothe the dragon to be calm. 

In awe of touching a dragon, Benji asked, “What does that mean… lykiri? 

Aemma giggled at his accent while saying the High Valyrian word and turned to him, unbeknownst how close her face was to his: " It means to be calm or calm down. I must say how impressed I am with your bravery in being so close to a dragon, my lord.”  

Benjicot, in turn, winked at the princess before teasingly replied, “Only because I have the Realm’s Pearl guiding me, and I thought we agreed to skip our titles, my princess.” 

Aemma blushed at the teasing and realized how close they were to each other; just a slight lean, and they could kiss. Benjicot had a certain attractive charm; he had a boyish charm to his face, but a devilish smirk and his lanky build helped him appear taller. Aemma's musing was quickly cut short with a slight cough, and Aemma’s face flushed bright red as she and Benji quickly separated each other to see a Queensguard sternly looking at the pair. 

Aemma, embarrassed, quickly schooled herself before returning to business, much to the brief disappointment of Benjicot. Alas, he knew better. She was the crown princess; he was just a lord, not even lord paramount. Nevertheless, he was grateful for the food and medical supplies she and her dragon brought to his land and people. If his house continued to support Queen, which they would, they would need the support to replenish themselves after the battle with those lousy Brackens. Then, much to Aemma’s disappointment, Benjicot was called away to finish establishing himself as the new lord. Stating they would see each other at the feast later this evening. The Princess sighed but allowed her dragon to fly off while she was guided to her chambers to prepare for the feast. 

As she was walking, Her guard cleared his throat. “ Forgive me, my princess, as it may seem too forward of me, but your mother asked for you to come here to give a note of gratitude and supplies and return with loyal allies, not allies and a marriage proposal.” 

Aemma gasped in shock, “ Ser Lorent, that was hardly any grounds for a marriage proposal; my mother and I haven’t even had that discussion yet.” 

Then, a bit childishly, she slammed the door on her knight's face as she entered the quaint chamber. Sitting down on a chair in front of a mirror, Aemma began to unravel her braid and change her hairstyle to a more Valyrain-looking war braid. Her mind returned to Ser Lorent’s comment as she unraveled her hair. She indeed some took liberties from the Blackwood lord without thinking much of any consequences. Especially since she was of age to be married, which discussion has not come up because Lucerys' death took precedence. However, she knew she would have to marry sooner rather than later, mainly because of the war. She did not want to be used as a bargaining chip for allies, and she knew her mother would never force her. But the princess was not naive to think she had the liberty to marry for love. She previously thought of giving her hand to Cregan Stark as gratitude for being the first to support her mother. However, the cold was a little too much for her, and she couldn’t connect with the wolf of Winterfell, unlike Benjicot Blackwood, who had made her laugh more than twice about meeting him. Being married to him didn’t seem too bad, and she could still wear her Targaryen house colors. 

Quickly shaking her head from thoughts, she heard a knock on the door. Ser Lorent was right; she wasn’t here to make marriage proposals. As she opened the door, she was greeted by the lord of blackwood, who gave her a dazzling smirk and asked to escort her to the feast hall. That smirk caused her to flush; remembering her previous thoughts, Aemma tried to school her features before returning her smirk just like her kepa Daemon taught, but she knew she had failed when Benjicot chuckled. Instead of taking insult, she reveled, knowing that she had brought a laugh out of him. As they entered the hall, she could see many staring at her with awe, with a few looks of lust from the young men. She expected this, being given the name the Realm’s Pearl; she knew she was beautiful, but instead of letting it turn her vain, she always tried to make others see that not only did she have Valyrian beauty, but she was also a dragon rider warrior like those of Old Valyria. 

As the feast went on, Princess Aemma did her best to use her quick-witted charm to appease the people in the feast hall, although, like her kepa Daemon, after a while, she grew tired and wanted to breathe fresh air. After confirming with her knight, she quickly stepped out to catch the cool breeze when she heard whispers. Curiosity taking the best of her, she quietly walked closer, ensuring she would not be seen. There, she heard Benjicot's voice arguing with an older man and woman. 

“I understand my position, but it is hardly weak; I am the lord of House Blackwood, and if need be, my Aunt Alysanne is my heir. I do not need to marry so soon, especially if we are to join the queen to war!” Snared the new lord at the older gentleman. 

The older man sighed in annoyance, “ Yes, since we still follow the Old gods, there is nothing wrong with having Alysanne as your heir, but your position is not secured, my lord. Should you and your lady aunt perish, we risk losing our house to those craven Brackens. Being married will ensure your future wife carries your heir to secure the future of our house.” 

This only grew Benjicot more agitated, and replied angrily, “ I will not be a bargaining chip just to secure my house’s future, and I will not marry just to have my future wife feel like a broodmare.”  

Alysanne sighed, looking at both hotheaded men, and tried to intervene, “You and the princess seem to grow close. Why don’t you discuss with her any potential ladies she may have as her or her mother’s ladies-in-waiting? Therefore, you open up the discussion of marriage without feeling too drastic or rushed. While I remain as your heir?” 

Both men did not entirely agree with that plan, but it was better than anything they could try to agree with. Reluctantly agreeing, the three blackwoods moved back to enter the feast hall without noticing the princess. 

Aemma slowly returned to her seat; the newly appointed lord also had the same problem she would soon have, understanding their duty but not wanting to be a bargaining chip. The princess returned to her seat and took turns speaking with a few people before Princess Aemma decided it was time to read her mother’s letter as the feast continued. With two sharp taps of Ser Lorent’s sword on the table, the hall quieted as the princess addressed the people. She felt faint; she had never had to speak in front of so many people before, especially those who just lost family. With a quick scan of the room, she saw Alysanne Blackwood give a short, simple smile; then, her violet eyes locked on a certain dark-eyed lord, gracing her with his charming smirk, and gave a nod of encouragement. 

Exhaling, she opened her mother’s letter and began to read, “My good people of Raventree Hall, I thank you for welcoming my daughter, Crown Princess Aemma, into your home. As my heart grieves for the loss of Burning Mill, I want to express my gratitude for your honor and loyalty to me as your queen. My mind is at ease knowing I have such loyal subjects, and with your help, I know we can take back my birthright from the green false king. To show my gratitude, I have sent my daughter on her dragon to bring supplies and food to help replenish House Blackwood. With her dragon, she will lead and guard the able soldiers to Harrenhall, where Prince Daemon, the Knights of the Vale, and the men of the North will eagerly await you. You all have my utmost respect and gratitude, your Queen, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of her name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, protector of the realm.” 

As Aemma finished her mother’s letter, she started hearing applause and cheers for her mother, which swelled her heart to see people genuinely supporting her. Looking back at Benji, she could see him smiling and nodding in approval, which only made her think back to the conversation she overheard. After a moment, she raised her hand to still the cheers, and people quieted down, wanting to hear what the princess had to say next. 

“I thank those here today for coming out and supporting my queen. My heart is filled with the warm welcome I have received here at Raventree Hall. To know such fierce and loyal people are willing to fight for my mother, your queen, fills my heart with gratitude-” 

Someone in the back stood up and cheered, “To Queen Rhaenyra and Her Crown Princess, The Realm’s Pearl Aemma Velayron!”  

Prompting more to stand and cheer, the princess let the people cheer and then, after a while, again asked for quiet. 

“I thank you all for your cheers. To show my gratitude for everything, I propose, should your Lord Blackwood accept, my hand for marriage to create a strong and secure alliance between Houses Targaryen, Velaryon, and House Blackwood.” 

Gasps were heard all over the room, and a sharp clank from her knight's sword fell to the ground, but all of that did not matter because the princess only wanted to hear and see one reaction. That of Benjicot Blackwood, who stood up to meet his princess gaze as his smirk fell off his face and slowly replaced with a genuine heartwarming smile, his eyes lighting up like they haven’t all night. He slowly walked to Princess Aemma, taking her soft, sunkissed hands to his, staring at her doe-like violet eyes, and kissing her hands. 

“It would be my honor to be your husband, my dear princess,” he whispered as her smile grew, knowing she had made the right decision. 

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 9: “Don’t do that!” “But…”

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Reblog if you liked it!

It was already dark and the two of you were still at the police station, trying in vain to create a geographic profile of the kidnapper you were chasing in Duluth, Minnesota. And it was in vain because Spencer and you couldn't even think anymore.

You were both exhausted, staying awake only thanks to the multiple liters of coffee that now were just empty disposable cups, and a sad hamburger the police chief had brought you a few hours ago. The place was deserted, and if it weren’t for the company of your friend, you were sure you would’ve fallen asleep at your desk.

“Remind me why we can’t leave this for tomorrow?”

“Bureau stuff, they want to demonstrate the unit’s efficiency or something. And, of course, so the man doesn’t take any more victims.”

“I feel like my brain has melted,” you complained loudly, running your hands over your face and dramatically collapsing onto the table.

He had his back to you, facing the whiteboard as if waiting for some epiphany, but he didn’t need to look at you to know what you had done.

“You know, while the brain can’t actually melt, there are some extreme conditions that can cause significant damage, like hyperthermia, which can lead to the breakdown of brain cells. In cases of very high fever or prolonged exposure to extreme heat, the brain can suffer damage due to the loss of proteins and the denaturation of tissues, which can lead to severe complications like seizures, neurological damage, or even death, but not the literal melting of the organ.”

“Boo! Boring!”

With that, you grabbed one of the crumpled pieces of paper on the table and threw it at him, hitting him squarely on the head. Spencer turned to look at you with a murderous expression, and you grinned at him, pleased with your little prank.

Suddenly, the idea of throwing things at your friend to entertain yourself became very tempting, and one by one, you started making more paper balls, each meeting the same fate as the first. You loved testing the limits of your best friend’s patience, and he was no stranger to well-planned revenge, so you tried to annoy him just enough to make the price you’d pay later worth it.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” he asked after perhaps the tenth ball hit him. “Like helping me with this, for example?”

“Let’s leave that for tomorrow,” you groaned, sounding very tired. “Even that genius brain of yours needs to rest at some point.”

“Yes, but it’s harder to concentrate with an annoying, immature agent throwing things at me.”

You let out a snort, something Spencer couldn’t quite decipher, but it was probably a complaint.

He kept looking at the spots where the victims had disappeared, searching for a pattern for a few seconds, but just when he thought he could continue in peace, he felt another object hit the back of his neck.

“Don’t do that!”

“But…” you couldn’t finish your sentence because he took the projectile you had just used and threw it back at your face. Without force, of course, but with clear intent nonetheless. “Spencer!”

“Now is it not fun?” he said, half irritated and half amused.

You picked up one of the paper balls from the floor and threw it back at your friend, starting what became a pretty even war. If anyone had seen you, they would have completely disapproved of your behavior and criticized how unprofessional you were, but at that moment, the place was so empty that you allowed yourselves to have some fun.

What began as a rough exchange ended with the two of you laughing uncontrollably, and you trying, unsuccessfully, to hold the doctor’s wrists to make it stop.

“I give up! Okay? I give up!”

“So, being annoying is only okay when it’s you doing it?” he teased, but with a smile on his face.

“Am I annoying to you?”

“Huge. Like, the biggest in the world.”

You knew he wasn’t serious. And Spencer knew he couldn’t live without you in his life.

Finally, you both agreed to an unspoken truce when you let go of his hands, and he didn’t retaliate, just watching you seriously.

You could see the exhaustion in his eyes, and you hated seeing him like that, knowing you probably looked the same. You had a strange relationship, one that he didn’t share with anyone else, almost like a connection that, no matter the disagreements, never broke. You always knew when something was bothering him, and vice versa, ready to step in if needed.

Platonic soulmates, it was called? Something like that, he had told you once. And indeed, you two fit the term perfectly.

“How can I help?” you murmured gently, trying to end the suffering at last.

You were both dead tired, and two minds would think better than one, so he started giving you instructions on how he was mapping everything out to see if you could offer a different perspective. The autumn air was already making itself known, so you grabbed Reid’s suit jacket to keep warm, and he didn’t complain.

At some point, he needed more coffee, and he kindly brought one for you too, only to happily discover that you had finished figuring out the missing piece to complete the profile.

He was incredibly grateful, so you both agreed to sit down for a moment to drink your coffees, and then you would call a taxi to the hotel to get at least a few hours of sleep. However, as you sat in the waiting area, with two chairs side by side, sleep eventually overtook you, and without realizing it, you fell completely asleep in your seat.

Needless to say, Spencer did the same, which resulted in Hotch and Morgan finding you both in the morning, peacefully sleeping. You, resting on the young man’s shoulder, wearing his jacket and hugging yourself. Him, with his cheek resting on your head, and one arm stretched out just enough to touch at least an inch of your skin, as if he needed to make sure you wouldn’t escape in the night.

The picture of the two of you in that position became the joke of the week, but you couldn’t complain about the circumstances in which it happened. After all, if anything ever happened, you knew he was there to take care of you. And he knew, just the same, that you would always take care of him.

[futabapunk]

The casual dismissal of Vi's trauma and PTSD from everything she's endured makes me furious. Growing up, Vi and Jinx both suffered similar losses. The key difference was that Vi, at a young age, had to assume adult responsibilities, preventing her from having a childhood.

Her seven-year sentence was marked by isolation, abuse, and a lack of comfort or explanation for her ordeal. She blames herself for Jinx's altered state, believing her involvement led to the significant shift in Jinx's personality. Even so, she persists in that role internally.

She's so focused on shielding Powder and Jinx that she neglects her own emotional well-being and the healing process from past trauma. While often overlooked, Vi's core personality is one of kindness and gentleness, with a deep desire for comfort and acceptance.

Having survived a tough environment, Vi is perceived as self-sufficient and capable of defending herself. The effect of Cait's actions on Vi runs much deeper than many are prepared to admit. Vi has love and trust in her. An attack by a loved one is a deeply traumatic experience.

It felt like a betrayal of the love and affection she'd longed for. She fears a recurrence, believing her physical strength doesn't diminish the impact or allow her to simply dismiss it. The experience evokes the same feelings she had then, creating an ongoing struggle to recover.

[rainycollectorengineer]

🚨I HOPE YOU TAKE A MOMENT TO READ MY STORY .🚨

My name is Rawan, and I’m from Gaza, Palestine. I married my husband, Mahmoud, on August 28, 2023. For just 40 precious days, we lived a joyful life as software engineers, dreaming of a bright future together. But on October 7, our world shattered as war engulfed our home.

Since that day, we have faced unimaginable loss and suffering. We lost our jobs and our beautiful, warm home, and we’ve been forced to evacuate from one place to another as conditions worsened. Now, we live in a small tent, enduring inhumane conditions for nearly a year.

As winter approaches, we find ourselves without enough clothing to shield us from the cold. I’m currently five months pregnant, and we desperately need funds for medicine, proper nutrition for both me and my baby, and clothing for our little one. I fear for my child’s safety, worrying about bringing a new life into such harsh circumstances. Yet, I cling to the hope that this war will end soon.

Our campaign has been moving slowly, and we haven’t received any donations in the past 9 days. We have just 1,709 € left to reach our first goal of 5,000 €. Can we make this happen?

I’m reaching out for your support during these incredibly challenging times. The ongoing conflict has turned daily survival into a struggle. Even a small donation of $5 to our GoFundMe campaign can make a significant difference in our lives. If you’re unable to donate, please consider sharing our story with others who might be able to help.

You can donate or share our campaign here:

Thank you for your kindness and generosity. Your support means the world to us.🙏🏼🩷

@90-ghost @heritageposts @gazavetters @neechees @butchniqabi @fluoresensitivearchived @khanger @autisticmudkip @xinakwans @batekush @appsa @nerdyqueerr @butchsunsetshimmer @biconicfinn @stopmotionguy @willgrahamscock @strangeauthor @bryoria @shesnake @legallybrunettedotcom @lautakwah @sovietunion @evillesbianvillain @antibioware @akajustmerry @dizzymoonlight @ree-duh @neptunerings @explosionshark @vague-humanoid @buttercuparry @sayruq @malcriada @sar-soor @northgazaupdates2 @feluka-blog-blog @dirhwangdaseul @jdon @ibtisams @sawasawako @memingursa @schoolhater98 @toesuckingoctober @waskvhai @turtletoria @imjustheretotrytohelp

[sandsorghum]

And I sat with my anger long enough...

A Reflection on How Trauma, Rage & Grief shaped Higuruma & Nanami (Differently)

Nah, Don't be fooled - Higuruma is not Nanami 2.0, or just a rebrand of noble, stoic workaholic. I explore some of these psychological nuances below in depth.

Frequent Comparisons

People draw parallels between Nanami and Higuruma mostly commonly through their Frustrations towards the System. For Nanami, that's been both Capitalism and the Jujutsu world, and for Higuruma it's the Justice system. This results in an aura or impression of emotional detachment, but it's certainly not to be mistaken for apathy. Quite the opposite in fact! It's because both men are so propelled by their principles that they don't permit themselves the "luxury" of (excessive) emotional fervour - but there may be some distinctions with how they go about that too!

Both have been worn down throughout the years, but both also have an Inciting Incident of a significant traumatic episode. I'll explore how both the long-term slog and traumas have affected them, but first let's make a distinction about each of their inciting incidents.

Duelling Dualities

Both Nanami and Higuruma's major turning points are based around how they couldn't protect someone they cared about, namely Yuu Haibara and Keita Oe respectively. These two also represent a loss of innocence for them.

On the surface, the loss and demise of a friend during formative years (Nanami was still in his teens!) would seem to have a much more significant impact than "losing" a client or case as a working adult, plus the degrees of emotional intimacy and investment are vastly different.

Nanami has also suffered this kind of emotional gradual decay but his experiences were less high stakes, less intense and less drawn out. As a salaryman he was only enduring it for himself, and didn't have the added burden of inadequate efforts jeopardizing someone else's life or liberation.

However, his loss is more literal than the lawyer's - as far as we know Keita isn't dead, but I can't imagine his fate to be very favourable given the circumstances around his..."mistrial". (I don't know what the legal ramifications of your attorney going berserk and offing the prosecution is, but I doubt those are good odds. I wonder if Keita's fate weighs on Higuruma too, after the canon events in the manga.)

Speaking of which, having someone die in front of you for the first time is monumental, and here's where we have another distinction; the kind of Guilt Nanami and Higuruma suffer. *Survivor's versus Perpertrator's.

[*As a a caveat, I'm no expert in clinical psychology so I want to add it might not be wholly accurate to characterise Nanami's guilt as classic Survivor's Guilt, and it's hard to say to what degree he experienced this specific sort, or for how long, but I'm sure he felt a significant sense of failure at being unable to protect his friend, which later expands into frustration into being put into such a situation in the first place.]

When I said "these two also represent a loss of innocence" earlier, I wasn't referring to Keita's, but Higuruma's corruption when he kills the prosecutor and judge. We are led to believe that Keita is plausibly innocent and didn't commit the crime, and is thus morally whole - whereas there's absolutely none of that ambiguity on Higuruma's part

Higuruma's is a moral failing, compared to young Nanami's one of ability and insufficient experience, exacerbated by the jujutsu system's flaws. We don't have the details about how Nanami's ill-fated mission with Haibara unfolded, only that they expected a second grade curse but were faced with a higher level opponent, which they weren't skilled enough to take on.

Nanami might be able to "offset" some of his guilt at being unable to save Haibara by blaming broader forces beyond him, or his circumstances of being too young and not being better prepared - although I don't think this is his nature to rely on that sort of naiveté reasoning and he carries that grief with him anyway (any iteration of survivor's guilt can be quite immune to logic.)

But for Higuruma, that burden of his ethical lapse rests entirely on his shoulders.

Higuruma fails in a way that feels or can be deemed to be much more personal; even as his actions are also similarly compounded by an unfair system but at the end of the day, he still killed with his own two hands.

There's no rationalising around such a crime of passion. There's no abstracting it out to the tolls and pressures the system takes, even if they are critical factors. The system is broken, and breaks him, and for a while Higuruma would rather blame and contend with its flaws rather than his own.

A man strung up by his own high ethical standards, what is he to do?

Conceits Revealed Through Self-Deceit

In times of severe emotional crisis, it's common for people to avoid the truth of what they really feel and/or want, because it's saddled with a lot of pain. As mentioned above, there's a specific kind of grief that festers with Higuruma's guilt which isn't present with Nanami's.

Higuruma snaps and he has to pick up the shards of his world view, we actually get a pretty coherent albeit funhouse mirror version of his moral reasonings but to be clear, this is less confrontation and more qualifiers to deal with the fact that he's now a murderer.

It manifests as a cynicism-fueled delusion where he attempts to argue, or rather persuade himself the killings were just or justified, not only that but that Culling Game killings could be an equally valid if alternative recourse for justice - his own Domain is a reflection of a courtroom turned theater, satirizing the legal process. A show trial in other words. 1ichtbringer has an excellent analysis that further unpacks how his Deadly Sentencing technique falsely stages a trial so that it appears to be impartial, and points out how Higuruma tampers with the process too. Highly recommend reading it to understand how beautifully deranged Higu's processing is, despite dressing it up in the rhetoric of logic (omg he's a delulu is the solulu girlie just like us!1!!)

Higuruma attempts to assuage his guilt by disregarding the justice system (and to an extent, the moral parameters) he has worked within his entire life, by harping on its limitations and flaws which are all fairly valid, but doesn't negate the fact that he's a criminal now

Furthermore, he is confronted by the contradiction between his and Yuji's killings, and the way each contextualizes their culpability couldn't be more stark. Yuji immediately confesses and doesn't try to rationalise or make any excuses. Higuruma on the other hand contorts his heart and head through several hoops so he doesn't have to feel such guilt - until he does.

From Higuruma's perspective, Yuji wasn't culpable for the Shibuya slaughter. Even as Yuji feels responsible, he is still innocent because he was acting under the influence of someone else's will - unlike Higuruma who carried out his executions with his own volition and more self-awareness. Quite simply, being blinded by rage doesn't hold up in court as a reason. Emotional states and pressures can be considered during sentencing but I doubt they would be much of a mitigating factor. Unfortunately for Higuruma it's difficult or impossible to defend his violent outburst of emotion since his framework of ethics and justice is premised so much on logic, which makes the nature of his moral lapse even more tragic and a particularly effective example of Gege writing dramatic irony.

And now, let's discuss the fiction Nanami Kento sells himself on.

When we get Nanami's flashback in Ch30, we're lead to believe he's the kind of guy who has never worried about "the meaning of life or his purpose on earth". Oddly enough, I think there is an element of truth to this for Nanami - Having faced an existential threat at such a tender age probably puts one off contending with such existential conundrums.

But then shortly after we get these panels:

This echoes one of Marx's central critiques of Capitalism, where workers are separated from both meaning and the means of production. Technically, Nanami's job scope - presumably as some type of wealth/hedgefund manager (or heaven forbid a stockbroker) - doesn't even have a traditionally tangible means of production, which only further reinforces the lack of importance of who he is as an individual and the sense of alienation, a pretty common phenomenon under Capitalism where workers feel psychologically and probably emotionally estranged from their work. Oh, the routine malaise!

[I fall back in love with him again each time i see the tear wiping part]

I don't think people have such profound insights or realisations if they haven't considered at length these broader philosophical questions regarding their priorities in life - but what I've always found pretty sexy was the simplicity of the scenario that gave Nanami this insight; an epiphany under ordinary, understated circumstances that he set his mind to without further equivocation. (And yes, I said it, it's sexy)

Who knows to what extent Nanami believed in his obsession about money for those four years; was his sole goal really just to retire young and migrate somewhere cheap? We know he still harboured dreams of moving to Malaysia; perhaps he could have afforded to by the time he was in his 30s, but there is also something within him that compels him to earn that retirement, not in an economic sense but rather in a way that addresses the question of what makes him feel like he'd deserved it. In short, how he earns a living in a way that aligns with and finances living a good life, does matter to Nanami. And by good we reference not just quality but morality too of course. The way things are done, the minutiae and attitude towards process matters very much to Nanami, not just the end goal.

I think that might be another way he differs a little from Higuruma, who could be a tad more impatient and results-oriented or focused, hence he'd be willing to take more risks (personal), bend rules and take advantage of loopholes - these tendencies all dovetail with his background navigating an already unfair legal system.

So, now that I've laid out the "lies" Nanami and Higuruma temporarily let themselves buy into, let's unpack what it indicates about their personalities. Gege often puts his (ill-fated?) idealists through their paces and what these pretences or obfuscations suggest about each man is fascinating and endearing to me in different ways!

The justification of his murder of two civilians is the central fib Higuruma tries to believe, but it's a delusion underpinned by disillusionment and years of constantly engaging with the incontrovertible ugliness and darkness of human nature encountered in his profession. That's how he spends his early adulthood.

Nanami, almost on the opposite end, doesn't want to acknowledge, let alone face such suffering and darkness for years - we might call it wilful or deliberate ignorance, or it may even have been a more subconscious choice. Either way, the avoidance stems from the tragedy of his personal history.

One man believes in his self-deception because he has faced the truth for too long, the other pursued a false priority because he has been attempting to avoid the agony and brutal realities of his calling.

When I think about the nature of their jobs, there also seems to be differences in the emotional and psychological tolls they're dealt. Being a sorceror has less overlap with social work and to my mind, has more parallels with law enforcement with missions revolving around investigation, surveillance, nullification of threats and broadly, maintaining a status quo and security for civilians. Most curses are abstract entities birthed from an amorphous mass of negative energy, there is an erasure of sentience, or at least a greatly reduced need to account for it, since they're already monsters meant to be eliminated in the most straightforward sense. A more sensitive take would be that these mutated souls must be put out of their misery. As for most curse users, fortunately or unfortunately, there's little opportunity, let alone necessity to understand their humanity (apart from Geto, more on him later.)

Compared to a criminal lawyer who has to deal with and get to know (probably not the nicest) individuals over several months, handling their suspicions and doubts, cultivating the trust and human relationships; that takes a lot! No wonder Higuruma gets worn out.

"I have never been and never will be frustrated by my own uselessness." -Nanami Kento

Our bodies have something called a Sympathetic Nervous System and biology predicates its sensitivities and capacities for emotional duress; this also influences how much of others' sorrows we can take on before we become fatigued. Every individual is born with a different endurance. Higuruma and Nanami likely have very high tolerances, but everyone has their limits.

This part is pretty speculative but I think how these two men empathise is different as well; Higuruma definitely uses intellectual empathy primarily, while Nanami experiences emotional empathy slightly more often. He has genuine care and concern for his colleagues, and relationships with them - they may not appear to be exceptionally close ones but they are important to him. Just remember what happened to ponytail guy after he injured Ijichi.

Higuruma on the other hand may not have had the opportunity to cultivate such personal connections with those he works with, either by circumstance, choice or a hybrid of the two. I think he cares about people in a more abstract sense, as representations of his duties, rather than actual individuals whose emotional interiority he must grasp. Perhaps it's out of necessity or an instinct for self-preservation that he maintains this sort of distance. This isn't to say he's callous, just that the way he relates with those in his occupation is more analytical.

Where they are alike is that both probably know it's unsustainable to operate from a baseline of righteous fury or indignation in their jobs. Going off his occasional outbursts, Nanami does seem to have more of that undercurrent but I don't think he's suppressing his anger daily or at least, he has some way of coping with it long term so it doesn't reach a critical mass, whereas Higuruma, if he had any awareness of his encroaching cynicism, probably couldn't afford the time and headspace to process his emotions properly.

Corroding Cynicism, Corroborating Hope

Initially, I had a difficult time understanding a particular line in Higuruma's monologue in Ch166, the version I read translated it as:

"I thought I should value that very depravity, which other animals don't have!"

I realised this line has a resonance with another ardent idealist, Geto, who observes this hideousness in "monkeys" as a trait he abhors, unlike Higuruma who cherishes it and believes it's the thing that sets us apart from other beasts.

It was only after contrasting this pair of idealists' motivations that I could comprehend Higuruma's breakdown.

Unlike Geto, Higuruma's raison d'être (before he gets a taste for homicide) isn't in achieving grand ambitions, he's not trying to permanently overturn a system but would rather manoeuvre within one. It's not so much revolution as it is mitigation (via litigation, hah). He is determined and convinced he can do this despite the odds he's given.

The issue with this granular type of change of course is that it's just as likely to erode their agents, through "the accumulation of little despairs". Not so little in Higuruma's case of course, since even his hard won interventions are significant as they determine the fate of people's freedoms.

What initially confounded me about Higuruma's breaking point and his tirade about how "the darkness before your eyes is just darkness" is that it didn't seem to challenge or contradict the reality he knew about before he snapped, that people can be awful.

Weakness and ugliness will always exist in humans, but I don't think Higuruma anticipated or believed such weakness was embedded in the legal system to such an extent. He's finally made aware of it with Keita's case, and I think that's when he decides the system isn't simply flawed but fundamentally corrupt and that he can no longer make any further progress within it, that his struggle isn't worth it.

The inherent fallibility of humans remain a fact. However, there's a distinction between universal and personal truths; the former often informs the latter, but what really matters for how we act are those individual, internalised truths. Higuruma's most fundamental truth is:

He's someone who operates from his principles, regardless of results or odds - it's why he fights losing battles, it's why he goes up against Sukuna. But for a moment, he's blinded by disappointment and anger and forgets that this is his ultimate north star.

Nanami goes through a lot less to remember his conscience, and I partially attribute that to surviving something as terrible as he does at an early age. Closure might be a bit ambitious, but I'd like to believe how he handled and addressed the loss of Haibara was to honour him by returning to the jujutsu world and looking out for other young sorcerors in his own way, guiding those like Ino and Yuji.

The sense of accountability and empathy he indirectly instills in Yuji is something Higuruma picks up on later, and it gives him some semblance of hope that there are other people like Yuji trying to do the right thing, those worth protecting and supporting, and keeping his eyes open for.

Conclusions

One last thing I want to compare between Nanami and Higuruma is how they approached the talents they were born with. Nanami has his Ratio technique, and Higuruma is intellectually gifted though later we understand his true inherent genius lies in his jujutsu abilities.

In a way it's inevitable for our destinies to be shaped by our capabilities, but I think it's interesting that Nanami tried to deny this innate rare skill as a sorceror and find something else he could do. If he wanted to lead a fulfilling life helping others, say as an educator or firefighter or paramedic (swoon) I don't doubt he could have, but he chose the path not many people are cut out for, returning to it not because it was pre-determined or cause he'd excel in the area, but because he knew he could guarantee doing it well in the moral sense.

Higuruma strikes me as another individual who'd be impressively competent at almost anything he sets his mind to. But the thing he's best at, given the circumstances he discovered them in, are skills he's now obligated to use in service of jujutsu HQ's higher ups. Higuruma wouldn't go so far as to reject using his natural powers and skills as a sorceror because of the unpleasant association of their origins, but he might struggle with how best to use these new tools, instead of being used. There may be another period of apparent futility he'll have to contend with.

I don't think Higuruma's faith is restored in the justice system by the time the manga concludes, and he'll have a hell of a time navigating the jujutsu one too, however he's more suited to being a sorceror as it would let him act more freely, in accordance with his own assessments, in ways that strike a better balance between his own moral code and jujutsu society's law,; something that he might even be able to shape in the wake of the Culling Games and a paradigm shift for Japan, now it's been forced to reckon with this whole other world.

(Gambatte, Higuruma!)

[kestrel-of-herran]

severance opening animation breakdown, part 2/2 (part 1)

commentary is below each image.

now this is really fascinating. here we have innie mark lifting the curtain so outie mark can go into the testing floor elevator (note the red arrow pointing down). outie mark seems scared and is going backwards (i can't imagine being in lumon feels relaxing). so to me this is outie mark assuming innie mark's identity to get to the testing floor and gemma.

but then we have innie mark carrying outie mark through another curtain, this time indicating the regular lumon elevator (note the green arrow pointing up). what's really striking here is that outie mark appears to be unconscious now, not even walking backwards in fear but completely out. innie mark is in control of that motion.

now here is where i think we really need to pay attention. first, note the symmetry of the twin sides of the book. on one page we have innie mark carrying outie mark in some relation to the elevator, with gemma's heads and many crouching/suffering innie marks around. on the other we have outie mark carrying innie mark again in relation to the elevator, with helly heads and crouching/suffering outie marks around. cobel is looking over it all bc the book is lumon's testing floor, her experiment. likely this is the regular elevator and both marks are going into lumon.

i can't decide if one mark carrying another means the walking mark is in control of the movement, or the walking mark is just a body and the carried mark is in control of the movement. the suffering marks are easier to explain -- each of the choices will be painful, even when winning, because each mark remembers the other mark's love enough to feel the pain of its loss. it's interesting to note that both marks are carrying the other towards one set of heads and away from the other -- outie mark carrying innie mark towards gemma and away from helly, with some part of outie mark suffering for it, and innie mark carrying outie mark towards helly and away from gemma, with some part of innie mark suffering for it. getting to gemma means leaving helly, getting to helly means leaving gemma. so maybe the walking mark really is the one in control. this is all happening under cobel's gaze, it's all part of her experiment, she wants to know which mark will take precedence.

lots have been said about the elevator shot already. i think two things are significant here: (1) outie mark gets spooked by something. he's in cobel's head, so maybe she did trick both marks and he realized that he was playing by her plan. he drops the torch and starts running towards the elevator, like he changed his mind at the last moment. (2) the last person in the elevator shot before the doors close is helly. she's the one outie mark is running to save.

lastly, the kier eagan baby head. mark participating in the literal or metaphorical siring of the world eagan wants to make, or both.

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved on our archive

By Jamie Ducharme

When you reach for a COVID-19 test, it’s probably because you’ve got a scratchy throat, runny nose, or cough. But those are far from the only symptoms that make Dr. Rohit Jain, an internal medicine doctor at PennState Health, suspect the virus.

These days, when someone complains of nausea, diarrhea, or vomiting, “I always get a COVID test on that patient,” Jain says.

Why? Despite its reputation as a respiratory virus, SARS-CoV-2 can also have a profound impact on the gut. Although most people don’t realize it, “COVID-19 really is a GI-tract disease” as well as a respiratory illness, says Dr. Mark Rupp, chief of infectious diseases at the University of Nebraska Medical Center.

Here’s what to know about the gastrointestinal symptoms of COVID-19.

What are the GI symptoms of COVID-19? While some people experience no gastrointestinal symptoms or mild ones, a subset of COVID-19 patients have experienced significant digestive symptoms since the early days of the pandemic.

Loss of appetite, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, and stomach pain are common GI symptoms of COVID-19, according to Jain’s research. Some people experience these issues as their first signs of infection, he says, while others initially experience cold-like symptoms and develop gastrointestinal issues as their illness progresses.

It’s not entirely clear why the same virus can affect people so differently, but it’s good to be aware that SARS-CoV-2 can result in a wide range of symptoms, Rupp says.

How long do GI symptoms of COVID-19 last? Some patients recover in a matter of days, Jain says, while others may suffer from diarrhea and other symptoms for weeks.

Still others may be sick for even longer. Gastrointestinal problems are a common manifestation of Long COVID, the name for chronic symptoms that follow a case of COVID-19 and can last indefinitely.

One recent study in Clinical Gastroenterology and Hepatology found that, among a small group of adults who were hospitalized when they had acute COVID-19, more than 40% who originally experienced GI problems such as stomach pain, nausea, vomiting, or diarrhea still had at least one a year or more later. Overall, whether they were hospitalized or not, adults who have had COVID-19 are about 36% more likely than uninfected people to develop gastrointestinal disorders including ulcers, pancreatitis, IBS, and acid reflux, according to a 2023 study published in Nature Communications.

GI problems are also common among kids with Long COVID. Stomach pain, nausea, and vomiting are telltale signs of the condition among children younger than 12, according to 2024 research published in JAMA.

Why a respiratory virus affects the gut How can the same virus cause both a runny nose and the runs?

Once SARS-CoV-2 gets into your body, it infects cells by binding to a protein called ACE2, which is found throughout the body. ACE2 is prevalent in the lungs, which helps explain COVID-19’s respiratory symptoms—but it’s also found in high concentrations in the gastrointestinal tract, “so it makes sense that the GI tract would be a target for the virus,” Rupp says. It’s in part because SARS-CoV-2 collects in the gut that wastewater surveillance is a useful tool for tracking the virus’ spread, Rupp adds.

Studies have shown that the virus can hide out in the “nooks and crannies” of the digestive system for months or even years, says Ziyad Al-Aly, a clinical epidemiologist at the Washington University School of Medicine in St. Louis who co-authored the Nature Communications study on chronic post-COVID GI symptoms. This may explain why gut-related symptoms can long outlast an acute infection, Al-Aly says—but there are many potential hypotheses in play, and researchers don’t know for sure which one or ones are correct.

For example, many researchers also think the virus is capable of causing widespread and sometimes long-lasting inflammation, potentially affecting organs throughout the body. This inflammatory response may have trickle-down effects on the gut microbiome, the colony of bacteria and other microbes that live in the GI tract, Rupp says. “We’re just scratching the surface as to what happens there,” Rupp says, but studies have already shown that SARS-CoV-2 can change the composition of the gut microbiome both during an acute infection and chronically.

There’s also a complex relationship between the gut and the brain, adds Dr. Badih Joseph Elmunzer, a gastroenterologist at the Medical University of South Carolina and co-author of the Clinical Gastroenterology and Hepatology study on prolonged post-COVID GI symptoms. His research suggests people are particularly likely to suffer long-term GI problems if they also have signs of PTSD from their acute illness or hospitalization.

That’s not to say GI symptoms are all in patients’ heads; on the contrary, Elmunzer says, they are very real. But, he says, there’s a lot left to learn about the microbiome, the gut, and the myriad ways they interact with other bodily systems.

[starry-eyer]

lysa and lyanna are, in a sense, two sides of the same coin—both victims of their father’s ambitions (and their society) who share some very important parallels: they dared to get pregnant out of wedlock. they dared to want their bastard child. they dared to (try to) pick the man they’d share their lives and bodies with.

they committed the grave and oh so terrible offense of being active agents in their own lives. and for that, they were punished. women are commodities in westeros—their value resting in their marriageability, and their marketability for marriage depends on a few important factors: their virginity, their beauty, their status, and their fertility.

so a highborn woman having a bastard in this world is a massive f u. it disrupts an entire system dependent on women’s submission and forced participation where men benefit from their oppression and the idea that women exist to secure alliances through their bodies. it shakes a patriarchy that relies on control—control of bloodlines, inheritance, and legacy.

the tragedy of lysa and lyanna is that they were always doomed by the narrative—they were part of the generation that couldn’t overcome their rotting and oppressive society. theirs was the generation of the false spring, not the true one—their fates are ones the next generation is meant to overcome.

but what truly interests me is the way lysa and lyanna contrast.

both characters belong to the bael/stark maiden archetype. lyanna and rhaegar fit this mold almost perfectly. but lysa and petyr are a failed, mismatched version. petyr wanted catelyn (who became lady stark), but ended up with her sister instead. lysa wanted petyr, a bael-ISH figure, but he never loved her.

their failed reiteration of the archetypal relationship was solidified by these facts: petyr thought he’d taken catelyn’s maidenhead, not lysa’s. their first time wasn’t even consensual. and their child was killed in the womb. it was no romance—it was never real the way lysa wished for it to be.

and yet, the most significant contrast between lyanna and lysa lies in their relationship with their fathers.

lysa trusted her father. she told him about her pregnancy, hoping it would mean she could marry petyr. i doubt she ever imagined he would harm her, but that’s exactly what hoster tully did—he gave her moon tea to abort the child, to preserve her value, promising her trueborn children. then he married her off to jon arryn—a man even older than hoster himself—who married lysa for duty, for the swords of house tully to win the rebellion for his boys (ned and robert), and because he needed a fertile wife to get children on. lysa had made a grave mistake by trusting her father, her patriarch.

lyanna, on the other hand, clearly understood that her father would never prioritize her happiness over what he could gain by marrying her off. her clear lack of trust in the men of her family is paramount to understanding why she escaped.

but lysa stayed, and went from her father’s hands into jon arryn’s. lysa married for politics and suffered for it, losing child after child. so when jon arryn tried to take her last child from her, she did what was once done to her: she poisoned him. lysa reenacted the violence of her past to protect her son.

lyanna ran, and later died giving birth to her son. it was a gendered death, but it was also her choice. love didn’t save her, but duty wouldn’t have either. and at least she died in the tower of joy, surrounded by winter roses, making ned finally see, forcing him to not ignore her wishes, forcing him to promise her... in the end, she still had to rely on another man—on the new stark patriarch—but this time, she was heard. basically, she got lucky here.

the themes explored through the bael/stark maiden archetypal relationship are about agency, loss, and how the westerosi patriarchy twists the relationship between fathers and daughters—a mesh of love and objectification as this is a system that demeans women to a life of commodity.

lysa and lyanna’s stories are having a conversation about the violence of the patriarchy and the risks it poses to women if they trust or defy it. these two female characters are reminders of what happens to women who dare to want, and their ends are ones the current female protagonists are meant to avoid and overcome—to prevail where lyanna and lysa lost.

if lyanna’s defiant choice to run helped spark robert’s rebellion, then lysa’s trauma fueled actions helped spark the war of the five kings (to be clear: i don’t think either of them actually caused these wars). i’d say the critical focus of the narrative is on the world that made lyanna and lysa’s choices fatal and catastrophic in the first place. and the fates of these two female characters were direct consequences of the commodifying of women.

[milkfordragons]

Why do you think Will and Hannibal both went through scarcity but relate so differently to money? (love your blog)

Will grew up poor, but there is no indication that he suffered from literal hunger. More likely, he lived in a state of constant limitation, having enough for basic sustenance and shelter but little beyond that. His poverty was not one of extreme deprivation but of restriction, of never being able to afford more than the essentials. Later in life, however, Will gained financial security through his professional roles...his work as an FBI consultant, his teaching position, and even as an author of a book used in official training. By the time we see him in the show, he is far from poor; in fact, he has amassed significant wealth. Yet his attitude toward money is cautious, even frugal. This is a common trait in those who grow up without financial security. Money is not seen as something to be indulged in but as something to be preserved. The fear of losing it lingers, and so he is unlikely to splurge, preferring comfort over excess, stability over extravagance.

Hannibal’s trajectory, by contrast, is one of dramatic extremes. He was born into wealth, lost it in an incredibly brief yet profoundly traumatic period of scarcity, and then regained it, never to lose it again. The nature of his deprivation was far more intense than Will’s, his suffering was not just financial but existential, marked by starvation, war, and the destruction of his entire world. This kind of scarcity often breeds an obsession with indulgence rather than security. Those who experience such extreme deprivation, especially those who later come into great wealth, frequently develop compulsions toward excess, seeking to consume, possess, and experience everything available to them as a way to compensate for past lack. Hannibal, with his tastes, opulent lifestyle, and relentless pursuit of pleasure, embodies this tendency. He doesn't just enjoy luxury, he devours it, making an art form out of indulgence itself.

This contrast in their financial psychology also mirrors their deeper fears. Hannibal’s greatest fear is the loss of control, but paradoxically, he has a repressed desire to relinquish it. His indulgences, his love of fine dining, extravagant possessions, and excessive refinement, serve as an outlet for this tension, a "safe" way for him to surrender control without ever truly doing so. He allows himself to indulge because he remains the master of his own excess.

Will, on the other hand, fears losing his mind. His life is not built around control in the same way Hannibal’s is, but rather around creating an environment that minimizes risk. He does not need extravagance, he needs stability, predictability, a life free from unnecessary variables. His frugality is not just financial but existential; he seeks security, not pleasure, and constructs his world accordingly. His job then is his way of indulging in risk.

In the end, their differing relationships with wealth reflect the deeper structures of their personalities. Hannibal, ever-consuming, transforming indulgence into control, and Will, always conserving, ensuring he never steps too far into uncertainty.