#but most of us just go there to buy things which we need to survive

[rafeobx]

paradise on earth

plot: a unwanted encounter with the one person she hates most of all, rafe cameron.

note: chapter 1 of burning red series! hope you enjoy xx

---

THE OUTER BANKS. paradise on earth. it's the kind of place where you either have two jobs or two houses. two tribes, one island.

first, theres the kooks on figure eight, the rich side of the island.

then, the south side, also known as, the cut. home of the working class who make a living clearing tables, washing yachts, running charters. home of the pogues. the downside of pogue life is we're ignored and neglected.

the upside of pogue life? we're ignored and neglected--we do whatever we want, whenever we want.

we're the pogues. first, jj, my older brother and best friend. best surfer i know, but don't tell him i said that.

next, john b. i've known john b for as long as i could remember. his father got lost at sea a year ago while looking for the royal merchant, a shipwreck that supposedly had millions worth of gold go down with it and his uncle—who hasn't been around for awhile—is his guardian.so, as a result, DCS has been up his ass about coming to check up, but hurricane agatha stopped them, fortunately.

then, kiara, or kie as i call her. when she's not worrying about the environment or saving turtles, she hangs out with us. kie's actually a rich kid, born a kook and turned a pogue. i'm not too sure why though, her family owns the wreck, an outer banks institution thats a total cash grab and popular with tourists. however, i'm not sure her parents like us very much.

lastly, pope. me and pope have been best friends for as long as i can remember. he's like super smart and has a bunch of scholarships. he can be a little bit of a weirdo, sometimes, but he's still my closest friend. anything i need, i go to pope for.

so, those are the pogues. and, then, there's me. isobel maybanks, or as the pogues call me, iz. there not too much to share about me. i live with my brother and my alcoholic father, luke maybank. not anything special.

---

"that's what, a three-story fall to the deck?" i glanced up to where pope stood, his eyes wide with a mixture of fascination and terror as he stared up at john b, who was balancing precariously on the edge of the roof.

honestly, those two sometimes acted like toddlers daring each other to do the dumbest things. i rolled my eyes, pushing myself up from the deck and grabbing one of the beers, jj, had no doubt "acquired" from some unsuspecting kook's cooler.

standing beside pope, i tilted my head back, assessing the drop. "i give you about a one in three chance of survival. and that's being generous."

john b grinned down at us, his gaze drifting upwards as if he was genuinely contemplating the merits of plummeting three stories onto splintering wood.

"hm, should i do it?" he hollered, a thrill-seeker's glint in his eyes. jj, who had been listening in to our conversation, spun around, his expression a bizarre mix of encouragement and threat. "yeah, jump. i'll shoot you on the way down."

i couldn't help the chuckle that escaped me. leave it to jj to add a violent twist to even the most idiotic stunts. just then, kiara appeared from inside the house – which, technically, we had broken into, but in our defense, it was still unoccupied by whichever stuck up kook would be willing to buy it.

"they're gonna have japanese toilets with towel warmers," kiara muttered, her voice laced with disgust. her passion for the environment often clashed spectacularly with the blatant disregard of the wealthy kooks who lived on figure eight.

"this used to be a turtle habitat, but who cares about the turtles, i guess?" she rolled her eyes, her attention finally snagging on john b, who still teetered on the roof's edge. "can you please not kill yourself?"

jj gave a cautious glance towards john b, his concern oddly specific. "don't spill that beer. i'm not giving you another one." and as if the universe had heard him, john b's grip faltered, and the can slipped right out of his hand, falling down to explode with a foamy splat on the weathered deck. "of course you did," jj groaned, his face a mask of mock despair.

"smooth," i joked, setting my own pilfered beer down on the porch railing. "well, i gotta get to the country club, my shift starts soon." a sigh of defeat escaped my lips. the country club.

the epitome of "kookdom". a place where entitlement dripped from the manicured lawns and the air hummed with casual cruelty towards anyone who wasn't one of them. it wasn't a surprise to anyone that kooks hated pogues and pogues hated kooks.

it was practically written into the town's bylaws, an unspoken rule that had never been broken and likely never would be.

unfortunately for me, it was also the only place willing to pay me enough to reliably put food on the table for jj and me every week. i turned to leave, already halfway out the overgrown yard when a security golf cart, emblazoned with the country club's pretentious logo, pulled up the polished driveway.

"hey," i spoke, a warning tone in my voice. "uh, security's here."

"boys are early today," jj quipped, a flash of adrenaline replacing his earlier boredom as we all quickly scrambled to make a hasty exit. we bolted back through the house, our footsteps echoing through the empty rooms as we raced towards the twinkie, john b's beat-up van, the cop practically on our heels. we all piled into the van in a chaotic heap as john b slammed it into gear, the engine sputtering to life as we sped away.

"hey, john b? could you drop me off at the country club?" i sighed as soon as we were all in the twinkie and away from the cops, the familiar feeling of dread washing over me as the opulent gates came into view.

"god, how do you put up with all those kooks every single day, iz?" kiara grimaced at the very thought of it. i opened my mouth, prepared to offer some kind of explanation, but to be honest, i had no idea. it was genuinely the most unbearable thing ever, a constant exercise in biting my tongue and swallowing my pride, but it was also my only lifeline.

as soon as we reached the service entrance, i climbed out of the twinkie, offering a weak wave goodbye to my friends, and trudged towards the imposing clubhouse.

the overwhelming smell of expensive perfume and stale alcohol hit me like a physical blow. i hated that smell – or maybe i just hated what it reminded me of. the irony of working at a place that embodied everything i loathed wasn't lost on me.

i pushed all the stray thoughts to the back of my mind, forcing a professional smile as i clocked in and got to work.

"hey, isobel, can you get table five?" beca, my perpetually stressed boss, pleaded, her eyes darting around the bustling dining room. i nodded, grabbing my pen and pad, and headed towards the designated table. but as soon as i saw who was seated there, i internally groaned. rafe cameron.

his family practically owned half of figure eight, their wealth a suffocating blanket over the entire island. and he was, without a doubt, the biggest, most entitled douchebag i had ever had the misfortune of encountering.

"hi, what can i get for you?" i forced a smile that felt brittle on my face. rafe turned towards me, a slow, predatory grin spreading across his face as his eyes met mine.

"maybank? i didn't know they were giving jobs to strays now?" he drawled callously, his arm possessively draped around some blonde girl whose vacant stare suggested a complete absence of brain activity.

i rolled my eyes, the practiced indifference of dealing with kooks kicking in. "yeah, we actually have to, you know, work for our meals. it's a wild concept called not having a personal chef on speed dial, maybe you should try it sometime." kelce and topper, rafe's brainless minions who would likely jump off a cliff if he told them to, choked back their laughter as rafe's smug grin tightened into a hard stare, his jaw clenching.

"whatever, pogue. i'll take a beer," he snapped, shoving his expensive leather-bound menu at me. i turned and walked away, a sliver of relief washing over me at the temporary escape. ---

as i resumed my rounds, busying myself with other tables, the unsettling feeling of being watched prickled at the back of my neck. i subtly scanned the room, searching for the source of my unease, and then i saw him.

rafe.

he stood alone in a dimly lit corner of the bar, nursing a beer, his usually perfectly coiffed hair disheveled and unkempt.

a frown furrowed my brow as i held his intense gaze and made my way over."can i help you?" i asked, my tone sharper than intended. talking to rafe cameron was the absolute last thing i wanted to do, but a strange, morbid curiosity compelled me.

his eyes softened slightly, still locked onto mine, a flicker of something unreadable in their depths. "um," he looked down at his glass, as if the answer he sought was swirling within the amber liquid, "can i get another beer?"

"that's your sixth one tonight, maybe you should go home, rafe," i suggested, a sliver of genuine concern mixed with my usual disdain. i instinctively reached out, placing a hand on his arm before he yanked it away, his earlier softness vanishing.

"i don't fucking need your help, dirty pogue," he slurred, his words laced with a venom that made me flinch. i opened my mouth to retort when my phone buzzed insistently in my apron pocket.

JJ get to the chateau. asap.

my eyebrows furrowed at his overly cryptic message. a wave of unease, far stronger than my usual country club dread, washed over me. what was going on?

i pushed the nagging questions to the back of my head, forcing my attention back to the swaying figure in front of me. "whatever," i muttered, rolling my eyes. "my shift's over anyway." i ripped off my apron, abandoning my tables and the stifling atmosphere of the country club, and practically ran out the service entrance, my mind racing.

i hurried the familiar path back to the chateau, the setting sun casting long shadows across the island. as i reached the porch, the sounds of a heated argument drifted out to meet me.

"okay. so, um," pope stammered, his voice tight with a subtle tremor of panic. "we didn't see anything, we don't know anything. we need to have total and complete amnesia."

"what exactly are we talking about?" i pushed the screen door open, staring at them all, a confused look plastered all over my face.

"okay, okay, okay, listen," jj started, his hands flying as he spoke, a familiar manic energy bubbling beneath the surface. "so, we were out on the HMS, right? just like any normal day, looking for, you know... whatever the marsh coughs up after a hurricane. pope was driving the boat when we hit a sandbar and i went flying off the HMS," he gestured vaguely.

"then, pope, he spots it – just the tiniest little glint of metal sticking out of the muck, right where the channel changed. we almost blew right past it, thought it was just some busted fishing gear. but JB insisted we stop because--you know, he's got this weird hawk eye for shiny stuff, probably from all that treasure hunting his father did. so we cut the engine and swam down into the marsh to check it out. it was all caked in barnacles and seaweed, but we realized it wasn't just junk. it was a grady white. that's when we knew. this wasn't just some random shipwreck; but, it gets better." jj explained, my eyes widening.

i felt a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach as if this was leading to something bad and i didn't know if i wanted me and jj to get wrapped up into something like this. i mean, we already had enough on our plate--or at least i did. "so this all happened while i was slumming it at the country club?"

"well, yeah--but thats not the point. when we went to check out the wreck, we found a motel key for the seascape motel, so me and jj went to check it out." john b began, my head snapped in jj's direction, only to find him already staring at me. frustration tightened in my chest.

"jj," i sighed, crossing my arms. i knew his intentions were in the right place, but i couldn't help but feel the weight of our shared responsibility to take care of each other still landed squarely on my shoulders.

"okay, i know, but listen. we went to the motel room and it was deserted--no one in sight. since, there was no power, which meant no one would know, we broke in. we couldn't find any name, but we did find," jj held up some cash and a gun "this."

"jj," my eyes shut in frustration "are you fucking crazy?"

"don't answer that," pope deadpanned, clearly everyone knew the answer already. i threw my hands over my face, the feeling of irritation settling in at jj's carelessness."okay, can we just get to the point? what is pope saying about not seeing anything? whats going on?"

"the boat, it was scooter grubbs." my eyebrows furrowed in confusion at john b. "the same dude that's buying individual cigarettes at the porthole? that makes no sense," scooter grubbs was probably the biggest dirtbag marina rat who's never had more than 40 bucks in his pocket.

"i mean, let's be real, the only way someone like him would get a grady white is by smuggling or if he's running from something." i reasoned. the salt-laced air in the cramped living room seemed to thicken with a new kind of tension, one that went beyond our usual petty squabbles. the image of the sleek, expensive vessel, so out of place amongst the rotting pilings and murky shallows of the marsh, felt like a bad omen.

kiara finally pushed herself up from the couch, her usual restless energy now focused and determined. "guys, seriously, we can't keep that money." her footsteps were firm on the warped floorboards as she paced, a stark contrast to her usual languid movements.the weight of their discovery, the potential danger, seemed to have finally anchored her.

jj's eyes rolled, a familiar sign of his impatience, but even the usual spark of mischief in them seemed dimmed by a flicker of something else – a raw hunger, perhaps. "okay. not all of us can afford unlimited data plans, kie." he leaned back further into the worn cushions, the springs groaning in protest, his gaze flicking towards the money as if it held the answers to all their problems.

"it's lana grubbs' money," kiara insisted, her tone firm, brooking no argument. "we have to give it back. otherwise, it's bad karma. we need to go dark." her words hung in the air, a chillingly serious concept for a group whose biggest secret was usually how they managed to afford gas for the HMS.

the carefree days of summer suddenly felt a lifetime away. "yeah. go dark." pope, who looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole, just nodded in agreement, his voice barely above a whisper.

he hunched further into himself on the edge of the armchair, his normally sharp eyes clouded with a fear that mirrored the murky depths of the marsh where they'd found their unwanted treasure.

the weight of their decision, a decision that felt far too big for them, settled heavy in the small room, suffocating the usual pogue camaraderie.

"if that means we get to keep the money? i agree," jj declared, a greedy glint in his eyes as he stretched out on the worn couch, already mentally spending their newfound fortune.

my mind, however, was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts, the allure of the cash battling with a deep-seated unease. "i don't agree," i finally muttered, my gaze fixed on jj, a knot of apprehension tightening in my chest.

"what? why?" jj questioned, pushing himself up, confusion etched on his face.

"we have nothing to lose, iz. we've got nothing." he gestured around the dilapidated room, a stark reminder of our usual poverty.

"just think about it," i said, pushing myself to my feet, a restless energy coursing through me. "this is scooter grubbs we're talking about. shit, one time i saw this dude begging for change in the save-a-lot parking lot because he needed gas, and all of a sudden, he's got a grady-white? just sayin'." a shiver ran down my spine as the implications settled. "and I guarantee there's a serious amount of contraband on that wreck, but i also really wanna know what else is on that wreck." the thought of what that contraband could be – drugs, weapons, something far more sinister – sent a fresh wave of anxiety through me.

pope, almost convinced by our reasoning, surprisingly, chimed in, "okay, for the record, if that is a smuggling ship with illegal contraband, it probably belongs to someone else.

they could come looking for it. taking it would be catastrophically stupid." his eyes darted nervously around the room, as if anticipating a sudden, violent intrusion.

"right. well, stupid things have good outcomes all the time," jj grinned, completely unfazed by pope's logic. he snatched the money from pope's lap, hefting it with a satisfied grunt.

"all we need to do is figure out a way to get into the cargo hold of that wreck. until then, we lay low. just act normal." he stuffed the money carelessly behind the couch cushions, as if trying to will away the potential danger it represented. "and how exactly do we do that?" pope deadpanned, his skepticism palpable.

however, a slow grin was spreading across my face, an idea, reckless and potentially brilliant, beginning to form. the tension in the room seemed to crackle with a sudden, dangerous excitement.

"kegger?" the word hung in the air, a starkly normal suggestion amidst the extraordinary circumstances. the thought of a party, a chaotic gathering of pogues and maybe even some unsuspecting kooks, offered the perfect cover, a way to blend in and gather information without raising suspicion.

it was audacious, completely insane, and just might work. a flicker of something akin to hope, mixed with a healthy dose of reckless abandon, sparked in my chest. this could either be our greatest score or our biggest mistake. and somehow, i had a feeling it would be both.

[yourlocalbreadenthusiast]

Kindly take a break from scrolling to read this, it's important.

Take your time to grieve and come to terms with the election results, but once you've done that, it's time to get to work. We have two months. And a lot to do in that time. We have to prepare, to be ready.

Be careful about what you post or say online. Anything potentially incriminating should be avoided. Threatening language, even if clearly a joke, can be used against you.

Know someone who's trans? Someone who's had an abortion? Someone who's LGBTQIA+? Someone who's an immigrant? Someone who attends protests? Someone who's disabled? Someone who might in any way be at risk due to laws being put into place? No you don't.

Move away from social media platforms and browsers that require you to use your real identity or input a large amount of personal information. Now's a good time to find alternate means of communicating online. Tails, Element, Tor, Mastodon, Firefox, and Lemmy are all decent options.

Find a community. Someone you can talk to, either online or in real life, that you'll have reliable contact with. We need to try and create a network, but one that's as anonymous as possible.

Start scrubbing your trail as much as possible. Get rid of old accounts that can still be traced to you but are no longer used, delete personal data off the internet. There are websites out there that will freely remove your data from the internet, but be careful about which one you use, make sure it's safe and legitimate first.

Change any usernames that you can that contain any personal information. Names, birthdays, anything.

Plan B has a four year shelf life. Stock up, but don't take more than you you'll need. We don't want a COVID repeat where everyone buys an excessive amount of things and leaves none for everybody else.

There are doctors that will sterilize you, if that's the way you want to go.

Stop using online period trackers right now. Delete all data from it if possible first, then delete the app itself. If you must, write it down, but in a subtle manner and on something you keep at home. Don't label it, just put the dates. If you're really worried, discard older records and only keep the most recent few, and label the dates as other random events, like "go to mall" or "chicken salad for dinner this night"

Get your vaccines now.

Save money.

Archive. We have to start collecting records, media, data, books, and articles now. On racism, on fascism, on homophobia, on gender, on self-reliance, on survival, on safe travels routes, on equality, on justice, on anything that may be useful and/or censored soon. We can't let them erase it.

Collect those online resources. Bookmark them, copy files into your storage, Screenshot pages. Create a decentralized library where everyone is working to be part of a whole, storing what they can individually and sharing it between one another. Again, be careful about doing this.

Second-hand bookstores are your best friend. Books are usually very cheap in them, and they often have a decent stock. See what you can find.

When buying ANYTHING I have mentioned above, or anything else that maybe put you in danger, try to use cash to reduce your spending trail.

Check your car information online, many newer models can be remotely tracked.

Turn your phone completely off if you may be at risk due to your location and current activities. Turning off your GPS also helps.

Take note of where you are. Who are your friends? Who's a safe person? Where can you go besides your own home that you know you'll be safe? Establish these connections now.

Who around you is not safe? Who and where do you need to avoid? Do you need to move? If you cannot afford moving but need to, there are fundraisers that can help you. If even that is not an option, at least try to make sure your home is secure. Have someone who can help you. Have a fallback safe place.

And finally, I want anyone with resources to put them in the replies. Flood it with useful links, information, tips, anything. We're in this together. Do not panic. Organize.

EDIT: Please be civil in the replies.

[arijsblog]

https://gofund.me/92cc9c56

Verified by @90-ghost

My name is Areej Salem, I am twenty-eight years old, I fell in love two years ago, then we planned to get married until the path we always dreamed of was completed.

 Muhammad and I got married on November 3, 2023, and after five months, God surprised me with the most beautiful gifts..

I had learned that I was pregnant, I would give birth to my first child and I will have a happy family,

During the journey of weakness and fatigue within pregnancy, Muhammad and I began preparing the baby’s things, buying clothes for him, and searching for suitable furniture until the seventh of October came to destroy everything we dreamed of for our child and our future.

The war began and fire broke out from every direction, and the Zionist indiscriminate bombing of civilians and defenseless people began, I was then in the eighth month of pregnancy, and I was suffering from strong panic attacks that I experienced with every strong bombing close to our house, I clutched my body and held myself tight, I was thought that i lose my baby many times just because of fear! After that, I suffer from uterine contractions that stay with me for days.

 Within a few days, Israel decided to displace us from our homes in the north of the Gaza Strip to its south, During the air, land and sea bombardment, we got our car, heading towards the south, until naval boats attacked us with a shell that hit our car from the roof, So I put my hand on my womb to protect my fetus and prayed to God a lot to grant me sight for my child, safe and sound.

Thank God, we miraculously survived, and on the second of December, that is, within two months of the war, I gave birth to my little boy, “Adam,” in a small room containing three beds, without the minimum sanitary necessities, and in which there were many displaced people fleeing their homes to health centers to take refuge in them, with a lack of food ,Sanitation, hygiene, and a lack of equipment and tools needed for childbirth, These were the most difficult hours of my life, until I felt like my soul had left my body. After three days I spent in labor pain, Adam came to enlighten my heart and my life and give our future meaning and existence.

Now... the war is still going on, but our lives are also going on, but! Without a home, it was destroyed by the Israeli occupation, also without food, medicine, or even milk to feed my little baby.

Your life continues, but in order for us to live like you, you must help us, so that I can provide a healthy environment for Adam, and for me and my husband, Muhammad, to live a decent life. Every amount, even a small one, will make a difference!

‏Donations will be spent on living expenses and the money will be transferred to us through Western Union and to have money for get out from gaza also

 Fear fills our hearts, as death is very close to us, so we ask for your support and attention to find a safe way.

 Your donations will make a difference in our lives, and we are incredibly grateful for your support.

Verified by @nabulsi

 Follow my instagram account for full story https://www.instagram.com/arij.raji?igsh=YzAwZjE1ZTI0Zg%3D%3D&utm_source=qr 

[logansdoll]

Heyyy it would be awesome if you wrote a third part for “37” where Charles gives Logan’s memories back and we go through flashbacks of some of his best memories, his wedding, the day his kids were born…something like that, it would be very heartwarming 🥰🥰🥰 or even maybe coming back from the past and seeing his kids again

sunflower

part three of "37"

CW: fluffy fluff, all the feels, suggestive, profanity, takes place after the events of Days Future Past, very bittersweet, your daughter's a lil menace, your son's a lil cutie pie, angst if you squint, i never know how to end these things, etc.

"Logan, the mind is a fickle thing," Charles sighed, resting his hands on his desk with a solemn look. "I can't possibly guarantee that this will work, much less in one session—" "I don't care how long it takes."

Logan's face drew tight with the statement, his patience visibly wearing thin.

He'd been listening to the same bullshit for twenty minutes...

"I don't care if I need a hundred different fuckin' sessions. I'm gettin' these memories back," he spelled out, leaning forward in his seat and roughly tapping his finger on the desk. "It doesn't make any damn sense. This body's been in this timeline for fifty-fuckin'-years and it doesn't remember shit."

"Because it is your consciousness that is the problem, Logan," Charles groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That is what I've been trying to tell you."

Logan piped down for a moment, brows knitting together as he leaned back in his seat, taking an annoyed drag of his cigar.

"Your psyche is from a completely different timeline, and now resides in a completely different body. It's like asking to recall the memories of a random person walking down the street," the professor explained, again.

Sadly, he hung his head, greatly sorry for the misfortune of his friend.

"I wish there was something I could do, Logan. Truly. But I'm afraid it just can't be done."

But Logan didn't buy it.

Huffing a small plume of smoke out his nose, he glanced out the window, catching sight of you teaching a class on the lawn.

Using your powers, you grew a large sunflower out from the ground, the younger kids marveling at the sight as you began pointing out its anatomy, most of them enamored by the huge petals—which were bigger than their little six year-old frames.

And in a small pause in time, your eyes flitted up to meet his through the window, that heart-stopping smile finding its way onto your lips as you gave him a tiny wave.

It warmed him, experiencing your light for the first time in years without the threat of annihilation on the horizon.

Domesticity like this is something he'd craved all his life, and now that he had it in his grasp, he wasn't going to settle for anything less.

A stilling chill descended on his chest at the thought of your smile, and the countless others he'd missed.

Your tears of joy when he proposed.

Your frazzled excitement with the wedding planning.

Your radiance as you walked down the aisle.

He missed it all.

And he'd be damned if he didn't do everything in his power to try and get it back.

"Charles..." Logan started, stamping out his cigar in a nearby ashtray. "My whole life is standin' out there under that tree... and I can't remember a goddamn thing about her after 1973."

His tone turned cold, eyes sharp as he stared the professor down.

"I don't care if you have to rip my head in half... I'm gettin' those memories back."

The old man let out a sigh, accepting that going on like this would bring no other outcome.

He'd have to give the man what he wanted... consequences be damned.

'Let's hope he survives...'

"This will be violent," Charles stated off-rip, wheeling himself out from behind his desk. "I am essentially hammering your mind like a dam, making cracks in its defenses until it eventually gives way."

Logan nodded, watching as the man settled in front of him, raising his two fingers to his temple.

"Now... try not to move."

Logan shut his eyes, and in an instant, it felt as if his head was struck by a speeding train.

He let out a growl of pain as images began to flash behind his eyes, the next one always coming quicker than the last.

"Hon, which color do you think would go best with my complexion? Eggshell or Porcelain?" you asked, eagerly holding up two different swatches against your skin.

"You look beautiful in anything, baby," he stated as if it was the simplest thing in the world, wrapping an arm around your waist. "Either one is fine."

"As sweet as that is... it doesn't help," you huffed, playfully attempting to scold him.

"Fine then. Eggshell," he answered, quickly.

You raised a brow, an amused smile playing at your lips as you leaned in closer, "Are you just saying that to get me to shut up?"

He let out a chuckle, resting his forehead against yours, "Never."

Yes...

"Can't wait 'til this damn reception is over," he growled in your ear, lips dragging down your neck as you both hid in a nearby hallway. "First time I've been alone with you since I do."

"Logan..." you gasped, tucking your lip between your teeth in an attempt to muffle yourself as he tightly grasped your hips. "Someone'll hear..."

"Then I guess you better keep quiet," he smirked against your skin, giving your collarbone a soft nip.

It's all coming back...

"Logan..." you started, nervously, hands held firmly behind your back. "I have something to tell you... and I'm open to talk about it if you're upset..."

His brows furrowed as he turned away from his dresser, looking toward you with an air of concern.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his protective instinct spiking at the sight of your fearful expression. "What happened?"

Unable to say it, you slowly held up your hand, revealing a positive pregnancy test.

His eyes widened like saucers, throat drying at the tiny piece of plastic.

"You're... pregnant?"

You nodded, silently, his reaction not soothing your anxiety one bit.

But, as if on cue, he moved toward you, striding across the room and pulling you into a bone crushing hug.

"I'm gonna be a father..." he muttered into your hair, the phrase not one he thought he'd ever hear. "I'm gonna be a father..."

Wait...

"Logan!" you cried, tears welling in your eyes as you glanced up at him, scared. "I can't...mmmph fuck!... I can't do it! Hurts too much!"

"C'mon, baby, keep pushin'. You're doin' so good," he cooed, swiping stray strands of hair out your face as the nurse on the other side of the bed helped cheer you on. "Just a little bit more. You're right there."

With a grunt, you squeezed his hand tight, letting out a growl of pain as you gave another push.

Pop!

Logan's eyes shot wide, the man nearly biting through his tongue as he glanced down at his hand.

You dislocated his finger.

Though it seemed to be worth it as that final push was what did it.

"It's a girl!" the doctor smiled, carefully holding up the newborn.

Looking upon her small, chubbed face, Logan felt a sense of protectiveness sink into his chest—one that he only felt when things came to you.

In that moment, and every moment after that, he knew he would lay his life down for her, no question.

And she wasn't even a minute old yet.

I have—

"James! Get back here!" a little girl squealed with laughter, bursting into the office after a little boy, who looked terrified.

Logan snapped out his head with a gasp, shooting up from his seat and unsheathing his claws out of muscle memory.

'James...'

Quickly, Logan retracted his claws as the boy ducked behind his leg, gripping tightly onto his jeans as the girl stormed over.

She looked just like you, save for a few small details, and had a small snaggle-tooth poking out on her right side, only adding to her adorableness.

Not to mention the bone claws she had protruding from her knuckles.

"No fair! You can't hide behind Dad every time you're scared!" she furrowed her brows, upset.

"Mommy told you about your claws, Laura..." James mumbled, voice barely above a whisper as he shyly peeked out from behind his human shield.

'Laura...'

The boy was Logan's mirror image, looking almost exactly like he did at that age..

Apple doesn't fall too far from the tree...

Charles could sense the pieces clicking in Logan's mind, and figured lending a hand would be best after what he'd been through.

"Logan, these are your—" "Laura Marie Howlett!" your voice cut in, the little girl flinching at the sound.

Quickly, she retracted her claws, whipping around with a guilty smile, which was met by your less-than-approving glare.

"What have I told you about chasing your brother inside? And what have I told you about using your claws to do it?" you scolded, walking into the office. "You two are interrupting your father and Professor Xavier."

Logan let out a soft sigh, taking the moment to finally look over his family.

Like a slow moving stream, things were coming back to him, the feeling like a fog clearing from the recesses of his mind.

Every birthday.

Every boo-boo.

Every first.

Slowly but surely, they were all returning.

Without warning, Logan dropped to his knees, pulling the two kids into a tight hug, fiercely fighting off the emotion swelling in his chest.

"Daddy?" James squeaked, concerned.

"Are you okay?" Laura asked, confused.

He nodded, silently, the sight making your heart both burst and ache.

After all this time, your husband was truly whole.

Fifty years of suffering and agony had finally come to an end.

taglist !!

@catiwinky @seamlessepiphany @vinaluvsu @kellyxo1 @amandarobertsboyce  @captainloki1 @qveendiorsworld @sarahskywalker-amidala @mei-simp @oatmilkriver @br3nt-12 @bimboshaggy @lightsgore @edszn @couturewinx @sunroxic @notanotheroldman @bontensbabygirl @buckleysg1rl @marvelgirlie-4 @eljaynosine-triphosphate @nickf1 @pinkisokay @mercurysjoy

[grison-in-space]

Listening to Artificial Condition again, it strikes me how much Murderbot uses empathy reflexively as a survival skill. Look at this bit.

Upon meeting it, ART allows it on board and then announces that it knows that Murderbot is rogue. Then ART threatens to destroy it if it hacks ART's own systems. Murderbot is immediately terrified and shuts down all inputs, gives serious thought to spending the entire three month journey unconscious, and then considers the potential avenues of damage from ART's drones. ART, not realizing why Murderbot had suddenly gone silent, tells it to quit sulking, which understandably pisses off the still-terrified Murderbot. It dumps a bunch of memories of coercive treatment into ART's feed, and ART goes silent.

Then this happens:

Then it said, I’m sorry I frightened you. Okay, well. If you think I trusted that apology, you don’t know Murderbot. Most likely it was playing a game with me. I said, “I don’t want anything from you. I just want to ride to your next destination.” I’d explained that earlier, before it opened the hatch for me, but it was worth repeating. I felt it withdraw back behind its wall. I waited, and let my circulatory system purge the fear-generated chemicals. More time crawled by, and I started to get bored. Sitting here like this was too much like waiting in a cubicle after I’d been activated, waiting for the new clients to take delivery, for the next boring contract. If it was going to destroy me, at least I could get some media in before that happened. I started the new show again, but I was still too upset to enjoy it, so I stopped it and started rewatching an old episode of Rise and Fall of Sanctuary Moon. After three episodes, I was calmer and reluctantly beginning to see the transport’s perspective. A SecUnit could cause it a lot of internal damage if it wasn’t careful, and rogue SecUnits were not exactly known for lying low and avoiding trouble. I hadn’t hurt the last transport I had taken a ride on, but it didn’t know that. I didn’t understand why it had let me aboard, if it really didn’t want to hurt me. I wouldn’t have trusted me, if I was a transport. Maybe it was like me, and it had taken an opportunity because it was there, not because it knew what it wanted.

The thing about Murderbot's survival is that it clearly involves quite a bit of negotiating with other constructs and bots. That's how it talks its way onto cargo hauler bots in the first place. It uses empathy--envisioning the emotional and cognitive context of the individuals it encounters--to work out what different kinds of people want, so that it can offer them fair trades. It also uses empathy to consider what humans might be looking for, so it can practice blending in and hide.

Murderbot would never have survived so long if it wasn't capable of assessing the individual desires of the people--human, bot, and construct--around it. It thinks about ART's probable fears and motivations so that it can consider whether ART is inherently an ongoing threat or a potential ally.

When your survival depends on evading detection, you get really good at assessing perceptual biases so that you can shape yourself to fit into them. People talk about murderbot being radically empathetic as a choice it makes, or as a feature of its personality that makes it a good person. But I think murderbot would be the the first person to tell you that this empathy is part of its threat assessment suite, a skill that was developed out of necessity in order to allow you to survive.

It is also a trait that makes murderbot a good person, of course: it chooses very carefully to try to survive by doing as little harm as possible and by offering things, like media, that buy it access to things it needs. But it started as a survival skill. It's part of hypervigilance.

I think one of the strengths of this series is that so many of the things we love about SecUnit are traits developed for survival in an inherently threatening world. The shape of its mind and heart have been changed by the trauma of its origin--but they don't make murderbot less good for being altered, even if that skill was developed in a traumatic context.

I like that.

[alrawabi-imagines]

Witches

Tw:Stabbing/SH

You couldn’t have let your girlfriend Elphaba go to The Emerald City to meet the wizard of Oz all by herself. And your worry proved to be true as the wizard only wished to use her power,Eplhaba revealing that he couldn't even read the spell book let alone have any magical abilities himself. Elphaba was concerned by getting out of there and dragged you through the corridors with her into a tower. Barring the door which wouldn't last but would buy you time. Running up the stairs to the top,using a spell to create a flying broom. She extended her hand to you “Let’s go” But before you could take her hand you were pulled backwards by the guards.  Struggling against the guards as you reached out for Elphaba but you couldn’t fight them off. 

“No, leave her alone, she hasn’t done anything wrong. I’m the one you want, I’m the one you want, it’s me!” You struggled as you were held back by the guards. 

"Elphaba!" you cried out her name. Her eyes were full of despair as she looked back and forth between you and the men holding you. Tears streamed down her face, she desperately looked for a way to get you out.

"Go!" You shouted, she shook her head, looking at you like you said the most ridiculous thing in the world. She couldn’t just leave you, you were her girlfriend, and she would never forgive herself if something bad happened to you because of her.She was torn, she wanted to stay and fight so you could be safe, but she knew the only way you would be safe for sure was if she fled. 

"I'll be fine,go!" Tears streamed down her face,she was worried what could happen to you once she left. She didn’t trust The Wizard, she knew he was a vile old man that did not care who he hurt to get what he wanted. But this was her only chance to escape him and she had to take it

"I'll be fine" you promised,she wanted to believe you too but she couldn’t help but still worry. She hated leaving you behind, and she knew that she would never forgive herself if anything bad happened to you. "Go" you said but this time it was a whisper. She turned to leave, not daring to look back because if she did, she knew she’d never be able to leave

The wizard immediately tossed you into a dungeon,locked up with no chance of escaping.You are tossed unceremoniously into a dark, damp cell and shut in with heavy iron bars. You are now left alone in the cold, dark room with nothing to do but wait for whatever the Wizard had planned for you

Several days later you were brought before the Wizard,Elphaba had resurfaced and started to wreak havoc across the land. The wizard fully aware you were her only weakness and intended to use you against her. You were forced to your knees before the fraud of a wizard.

“Ah, look what we have here. The green girl’s love interest. Such a pretty thing to use against her, don’t you think?” He said with a smirk

"I'll never help you,I'll never hurt her"

“Oh, I think you will. Elphaba values you very much, and she’ll do anything for you. So yes, you will give me what I want, whether you like it or not” He snapped his fingers and one of the guards grabbed you by your hair, forcing you to look up at The Wizard. He held your chin in his hand, his eyes narrowed as he leered down at you “You don’t have a choice in the matter. You see, Elphaba has become quite the nuisance as of late, and I need her stopped, by any means necessary. So, if you cooperate with me, you might have a chance at surviving this” You were sent up to her castle with one mission from the wizard,kill her or you die. 

You made your way into the castle, the sound of your footsteps echoing through the empty halls.It was silent and cold. You looked around, the sight of the place abandoned, made you feel even worse about what you had to do.

"Elphaba" you called out,"it's me" You call out into the silence, your voice echoing off the stone walls. There is no response at first, but then slowly, from somewhere ahead. You could hear a faint sound, the shuffling of footsteps against the floor. The footsteps get louder as Elphaba steps out of the shadows, a look of confusion mixed with surprise on her face. She stops suddenly as soon as she sees you, her eyes going wide with shock. You ran up and wrapped your arms around her,she froze for a moment but then quickly returned the embrace. She holds onto you tightly, like she’s afraid you might vanish any second 

"I'm so relieved you're okay. I was worried sick they’d hurt you. I was so scared I’d never see you again…” She put her palm against your cheek for a moment before she buried her face in your neck as she cried. You comforted her,one hand on her back tracing circles as the other clutching the knife you were given. It was a beautiful moment, but it was over all too soon as you shifted and she felt the cold, sharp edge of the knife against her skin. She knew what was coming. She knew what you had to do, and yet she couldn’t help the tears that flooded out of her eyes.

"I'm sorry,he's forcing me to do this" tears streamed down your face.

“No, darling, no. I-I understand, it’s not your fault, just… I trust you”

"I-I Elphaba it's either you or me" your hand was shaking.

“I know. I know, darling. I love you, you know that right? You have to do this” She held your hand,steadying you. The knife you were given was enchanted and it would only set you free when it came in contact with blood.

“Just… promise me one thing…” Elphaba could feel your hand shaking as she took it in hers, steadying it slightly. She looked into your eyes, tears flowing down her cheeks. Elphaba knew what was about to happen, and even though it was going to kill her, she wasn’t scared. She trusted you, and that’s all that mattered right now. You looked up at her,meeting her eyes.

“Please don’t blame yourself. This isn’t your fault, okay? None of this is your fault, remember that” In one move you twisted the knife and plugged it into yourself. She was frozen in place for a moment as she realized what she did.

“No-no, oh no, NO!” Elphaba was frozen for a split second, completely stunned by what just happened. You looked up at her.

"I I couldn't do it" 

“You- you chose death over hurting me. You-“ She could hardly believe it. You had chosen to die rather than hurt her, even if it meant your own life. She looked at you with tears streaming down her face, completely overwhelmed. She never thought someone would care about her so much, that she was worth such a sacrifice. It was too much to wrap her head around. Elphaba grabbed her spell book immediately, frantically flipping through pages, trying to find a spell that would heal you. Her hands were shaking as she desperately searched for a solution, knowing that every second counted. Finally finding one,without a second thought, she started saying the incantation, letting the magical energy flow through her as she desperately hoped it was enough,and the spell worked,she pulled out the knife and your skin closed itself around the wound. She held onto you tightly, her body trembling with emotion. For a minute she couldn’t even speak, all she could do was hold you and let out the occasional sob of relief. She had never been so afraid in her life, and the thought of losing you was almost too unbearable to think about.“You’d really sacrifice your life just to save me?” She looked at you with tear-filled eyes, taking in every detail of your face, as though trying to memorize every line and freckle. She reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair out of your eyes.

"I love you,of course I would"

“I-I don’t even know what to say to that! I don’t deserve you, you’re too good to me, darling”

"Don't expect me to do that again,it hurt like a bitch" you joked,trying desperately to make her laugh.Elphaba let out a snort of laughter, and then suddenly she was laughing for real, a mixture of relief, amusement and amazement, and she couldn’t seem to stop.

“Oh, I-I wouldn’t ask you to do that again even if my life depended on it! And don’t think I don’t know you’re trying to make me laugh”

"You're cute when you laugh"

“Oh, stop it. I am not cute. I’m supposed to be the scary witch”

"Oh,sorry you now have a reputation to uphold" you joked again,struggling to sit up.She reached out and helped you sit up, a mixture of concern and amusement in her eyes. 

“Yes, that’s right. I can’t allow myself to get a reputation as a gentle, kind witch. I have a fearsome image to maintain!”

"I guess I'll have to uphold that too,as your.." you pulled your shirt down to show off your necklace which was a chain with a black ring around it. You hoped she'd realize what you meant.

"You... You really want to marry me...?"

“I practically killed myself for you,I think if anything that proves my love for you"

"I suppose it does, yes. I… I still can’t believe everything you’ve done for me. You never cease to astound me" Elphaba’s heart melted a bit at your words. She reached out and touched the necklace gently, a soft smile on her face

"So is that a yes?"

“Of course it’s a yes, you fool. I would never say no"

[bitchesgetriches]

Hi Auntie Bitches! I have a question regarding an impasse of ethics and finances, so of course I figured you’d be the experts!

I live in the USA, and absolutely hate the direction things are headed in. I’m inspired by hearing that Canada and a ton of countries in Europe are boycotting absolutely everything American made. This is genius because the only way to hurt the greedy pricks at the top is to hurt their bottom lines.

I really want to join in and buy as few goods that are made in the states as possible. However, I also live here and my household budget is already pretty tight. With this ridiculous trade war going on, imported goods will become even more costly.

I’m stuck between a possibly unlivable budget if fully switching to goods that aren’t made here; or being a tad more financially sound but forced to feed the fascism machine by using American goods.

Please, I’d love some advice on how to navigate this?

Your first priority should be your own survival and well-being. You can't help anyone else nor effect positive systemic change if you are starving and evicted. So use that as your baseline for decisions in this case.

Second, you should strongly consider patronizing smaller local businesses and artisans for your needs. Many of these locals are just as angry about the federal government's economic policies as you are and putting them out of business will be a NET LOSS for all of us. So help keep them alive.

Worried a local business might be MAGA? Good news! The trash is taking itself out! PublicSquare is a website where businesses "who respect traditional American values" (DOG WHISTLE ALERT) can get listed. It's a great way to know which of your local businesses to avoid!

Also, keep in mind that shopping secondhand is one of the most ethical ways to consume in any economy.

Lastly, the most important thing you need to do is to only buy what you NEED right now. This means food, medications, and very little else. Not only is this the most wallet-friendly way to shop, but it's also very much in the spirit of boycotting.

Um brb I think we need to make this into a larger article...

Ethical Consumption: How to Pollute the Planet and Exploit Labor Slightly Less 

How To Protect Yourself Against Project 2025

Did we just help you out? Say thanks by donating to our Patreon!

[etraytin]

Emergency Preparedness On A Budget

Hey all, just a reminder that even though many of us are looking at a warmer-than-average winter this year, warm on average does not mean we won't see winter storms! In fact, warm winters can produce some really unusual weather patterns that are even more likely to produce severe storms. The best time to prepare for a winter storm, or any other natural disaster, is well before it happens, ie, right now.

"But wait," you might say, "the economy is stupid and everything is expensive! I'm afraid my survival bunker is just going to have to wait until my lottery numbers come up, which will take awhile because I also can't afford to play the lottery." First off, good job not playing the lottery, and second, preparing for a disaster does not have to be expensive. In fact, if you start early enough, disaster preparedness can be done a few dollars at a time without much of anything in the way of special supplies.

In order to not make a single post that is a billion lines long, I am dividing my advice into a few different posts and will link them together when I am done. The links will be right here: Part 2: Medicine and Power

Food and Water Preparedness

FIrst and most important: food and water. The motto of disaster preparedness is "The first 72 is on you." In a major disaster situation, if the situation has not resolved itself within three days, that's about the amount of time it takes for outside help to get itself organized and start arriving in a meaningful way to a disaster area. Objectively three days is a pretty short period of time, subjectively it is a small eternity if you are not prepared.

Preppers (people who do disaster preparedness as a hobby, to greater and lesser levels of unhingedness) spend a lot of time discussing the best types of food and water prep for long-term storage and/or end of the world scenarios. We are not going to do that. We want cheap, easy, effective preparations that we can ideally do while grocery shopping in a Walmart. The easiest, simplest and cheapest way to do your food prep is this: Buy one or two canned, jarred or tetrapacked (that waxed cardboard box pack) meal items every time you can afford it, then set them aside. Find a little space in a closet, a cupboard, a shelf, whatever, and just keep those foods there until you have three days worth for everyone in your household, including the pets.

"Fine," you might say as you look skeptically at the back of your cupboards, "but that doesn't seem very specific. There are a lot of canned goods out there!" And that is fair! The basic rule of thumb is "Buy something you will eat, ideally without heating it up if necessary, that doesn't require much prep or cleaning." For example, my family is two adults and one adolescent, none of us with major food allergens or aversions. If I were trying for a 72-hour food prep for us on the cheap with no cooking available I'd probably go with six cans of chunky soup, which I get for a dollar each on sale, three small jars of applesauce (smaller jars are better if you have no way to cool food), a box of saltine crackers, three cans of tuna, and a big box of granola bars if I could keep them out of reach of the kiddo long enough.

It's not fancy and it may not provide great long-term nutrition, but it's enough food to keep us alive for three days in a form that will hold in storage for 1-2 years without needing to rotate. Even on a very tight budget you can probably accumulate this much food in a pretty reasonable amount of time (and a lot of it is the sort of thing you might get from a food bank anyway!) For pet food, pack up three days worth of your pet's food, ideally in a glass jar but any sealed container will do, and add any cans of wet food they'd get as well.

Water is another big prepping topic that we're going to go easy-peasy on. You need, at minimum, a gallon of clean water per person per day, plus extra for cleaning and washing. Water is annoying to store and takes a lot of room, so for a quickie 3-day prep, minimizing water use is ideal. If you can scare up enough paper plates, cups and utensils to last you three days, you save ever having to wash dishes. If you can get hold of a pack of wet wipes, you reduce the amount of water for washing your body. If you can bring yourself to pee in the woods or at the very least let urine sit in the toilet unflushed, you save a HUGE amount of water on flushing.

For your water prep, you can use the bit-at-a-time strategy again. Every time you get groceries, try to bring home a gallon or two of purified drinking water. They should be very cheap, usually around 1.25 in my neck of the woods, and they last for awhile. If you have a few extra dollars, buy a flat of bottled water until you have at least three gallon containers and one 12-pack for each human member of your household Tuck them away somewhere out of direct sunlight, and rotate them regularly, taking out an old gallon and flat and replacing them with new every couple of months.

Once you have your basic setup, you can start thinking about getting fancier. There are ways to find things like camp stoves and water filters fairly cheaply, usually by hitting up garage sales or looking in the clearance sporting goods section when camping season is over, but that's basically gravy when compared to just having something to eat.

Next Time: Medicine and Power

[lastoneout]

I try not to talk shit about boycotts even if they are the kind that historically don't do any good because I believe in harm reduction and every little bit helps, and also bcs I don't want to discourage people from taking action...but the people saying we just have to keep up the economic blackout for the rest of the foreseeable future and if you need anything just get it from "local/small businesses" clearly all live in cities and/or are not disabled.

Sometimes Walmart is legit your ONLY option for groceries in small towns, and that's because Walmart intentionally drove all the independent stores out of business. I spent a lot of my childhood in a village with a population of 200(and I've spent a lot of my life living in different small towns) and the only local restaurant was open like a handful of completely random days out of the year and when the owner died they closed. If you wanted to buy anything you're either driving to the nearest bigger town to shop at a Walmart or Food Lion or Win-Dixie or Safeway because those are your only options, or buying stuff online and hoping the shipping fees don't cost more than the product itself/that they deliver to your neck of the woods AT ALL.

And that's not even getting into how disability can complicate this. Try buying everything you need at small local businesses when you don't have a car, don't have good/any public transit, the nearest post office is in a different town, you likely aren't getting proper treatment because the only specialist who can help is a 2 hour drive away, your mobility is limited/you're in a wheelchair or use another mobility aid, and you get like less than $1k a month in gov benefits and like $200 in EBT. Most local businesses have to upcharge because they aren't Walmart and $1k a month is NOT enough to shop at them for all your needs. Barely enough to shop for one of your needs, tbh. And these people cannot just leave because that $1300 bucks goes a lot farther in the ass end of nowhere than it does in a city that could actually meet your needs. There's no winning.

(Also sorry if someone has autism or ARFID and all they can stomach is McDonalds or idk Hot Pockets and Uncrustables then I think they deserve to be left the fuck alone to eat whatever food they can. Disabled people get a pass on this, because disabled people suffering and dying is bad and society already treats us like subhuman freaks. Fun tip! If you see your disabled friend who has food texture issues eating chicken nuggets from McDonalds you can try leaving them the fuck alone about it! Hope that helps!! (Like dude I hate shopping at Whole Foods but that is the store with the biggest gluten free section. And I need to eat.)

And like the most annoying thing is that NONE of the people posting about this are suggesting like, any form of mutual aid to support people who can't currently take part for one reason or another? Which is why it doesn't fucking work. Capitalism makes you complicit, it destroys all your other options so that you have to buy from big corporations, and lobbies to ensure this is legal and also all of your non-private options for transportation and necessities are shit and get replaced by slightly better private options BUT only until they reveal they were only being "good" to destroy their competition and now are going to be even worse than the places they ran out of business.

(Also like, I love local businesses too and try to shop at them as much as I can...but they aren't always more ethical than the alternative and acting like they are is profoundly disconnected from reality. In 2016 when I lived in Flagstaff, AZ we voted to raise the state minimum wage to $10 an hour, and Flagstaff specifically voted for $15. This was needed, rent on a studio apartment in 2016 was like $1k and that was BEFORE utilities and internet. And it almost worked, only a coalition of small business owners threw such a massive fit about having to possibly pay their employees enough to survive in an insanely expensive city to live in that the city council REVERSED THE DECISION. Flagstaff is honestly a ridiculously classist city, beat only by the evil rich people paradise that is fucking Sedona(which is almost entirely local businesses, who are owned by people who voted against setting aside one parking lot at a charity for PEOPLE TO SLEEP IN THEIR CARS because you cannot live in Sedona unless you're rich, and the rich people there don't really care if the person working at the crystal shop can't afford to eat or is living out of their car.) Anyway, the poor people in Flagstaff had their say, but our say was not considered good enough, and was fucking overruled to protect the interests of rich assholes who would absolutely love to continue to be able to treat us all like shit and pay us nothing. So yeah. Small/local does NOT mean ethical. I've seen franchised fast food restaurants treat their employees better and pay them more than some small local ones do. And that's not even getting in to how a lot of local businesses are NOT accessible for people with mobility aids. Half the stores on 4th Ave are so small my wheelchair can't fit comfortably inside or have stairs at the entrance. It's always more complicated than just "buy local".)

The people who can afford to avoid stores like Walmart are probably already doing it(you couldn't pay me to go into a Walmart unless it was absolutely necessary, I fucking hate that place SO goddamn much that it legit gives me panic attacks if I'm in there for too long) and the ones who can't afford it can't afford it, and you are offering absolutely no support to help fix that. It's just "shop local! don't go to Walmart or use Amazon!! don't use your debit card!!" with no acknowledgement of those intentionally being the only options a lot of people can fucking afford or that exist at all. That's how capitalism works!! You can't fight it by refusing to accept how it controls people's lives, and pushing people to take part in a broad, directionless boycott with no consideration for the reality of living in America right now or help offered to vulnerable people who legit cannot just shop local is doomed to fail.

If you can shop local(and know the local shops aren't run by power-mad capitalists playing pretend as feudal lords and are not at all better in terms of ethical business than Walmart) and avoid Target and Walmart and McDonalds, by all means, do. If you can help your friends, family, or community members do the same then DO IT. But if your only suggestion is just "stop shopping at anywhere owned by a capitalist" then I'm sorry you have no idea how boycotts work, shouldn't be organizing one, and absolutely should not be pressuring people who cannot reasonably take part without mutual aid offering to support them for however long it goes on for to just, idk fucking starve themselves and die for the greater good.

The Montgomery Bus Boycott worked because the community came together to make sure everyone who took part had a way to get to work and school and the grocery store and the doctor's office. It's just like a strike, you need mutual aid and money to make it possible for people to do it at all, and it does need to be targeted if it's going to register as anything more than a blip on the radar. Pooling money to split a Costco membership with your roommates or neighbors or family and giving them rides there when they need it so you can all spend at a company that has stood up to Trump instead of caving, or idk vandalizing all the Teslas in uh, Minecraft, does more to take money out of the pockets of companies like Walmart and Target and Tesla than shouting at marginalized people on BlueSky about how if they don't figure out how to shop local they're complicit in the evils of capitalism and clearly don't care about building a better world.

[strnilolover]

Vet!Chris taking you to an animal café and he has a little bit of a hard time getting you to leave …

Chris glanced at his watch, then at you, sprawled across the floor with a calico cat purring in your lap. “Alright, baby,” he said softly, crouching down next to you. “We’ve been here for two hours. I think it’s time we head out.” he states.

You didn’t even look up at him. Your fingers scratched gently behind the cat’s ears, earning a contented trill from the feline. “Five more minutes,” you mumbled, clearly enraptured by the small sea of animals around you. A golden retriever had settled at your feet, while a tiny rabbit hopped curiously near your hand.

Chris sighed, trying to hide his smile. He’d taken you to the animal café as a way to unwind after your stressful week, but he didn’t anticipate just how hard it’d be to pull you away. Not that he blamed you — seeing you so happy, your face lit up with childlike wonder, made it impossible for him to be annoyed.

Still, he had a schedule to keep. “Sweetheart, the café closes in fifteen minutes. You know we can’t just move in, right?” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world — which it was.

You finally glanced up, your lower lip sticking out in a dramatic pout. “But Chris, look at them!” you gestured around at the assortment of animals, your voice full of longing. “They need love and cuddles! What if they miss me when I leave?” you whined, already feeling your chest tighten with the fact you had to leave them for the day.

He chuckled, reaching out to boop your nose gently. “I think they’ll survive, babe. Besides, don’t I give you enough cuddles at home?” You gave him a teasing look. “Not nearly as fluffy, though.”

Chris’ hand came up to his heart, like you had punched it. “Rude,” Chris shot back, feigning offense. “You’re hurting my feelings, baby.”

You giggled but stayed rooted in place, your hand now occupied by a curious kitten batting at your bracelet. Chris leaned back on his heels, watching you with an affectionate smile. “Okay, what if I make you a deal? We can come back next week, and I’ll buy you that strawberry boba you like on the way home. But only if we leave before the staff has to drag us out.”

You perked up at his offer, your lips twitching into a grin. “Promise?” he nodded his head, “I promise.” he said, placing a hand over his chest.

Reluctantly, you scooped up the calico cat one last time, giving it a soft kiss on its tiny nose. “Okay, but I’m holding you to that boba and next week’s visit.” you said, placing the kitty down as your hands reached out for Chris.

As he helped you to your feet, Chris wrapped an arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Well come back as much as you like, i promise. And of course i wouldn’t go back on my word, you know that baby.” he said, walking toward the doors as you gave a quick smile and wave to the workers.

“Yeah, i know..” you muttered, still a little bummed that you had to leave. Chris noticed, pressing another kiss to your temple as he held the door open for you.

“You know i love you, yeah?” he said, pulling his keys out and unlocking the car as he opened the passenger door for you. And you looked at him, smiling.

“I know.” you said, leaning over and pressing a kiss to his lips before situating yourself in the seat.

© strnilolover

LITTLE VET CHRIS BLURB. MY SWEET BABY 🥹

[kanmom51]

Jikook car drive to CT

I think that before I dive into the actual car ride I have to set a few things straight.

Did you guys notice they chose to ride together? Shock and awe...

Lmao.

Just a little stab for all those who were nitpicking at them back in 2021-23. Yeah, you's that were all about "but they don't ride in the same car anymore", or "they aren't addressing each other or reacting to each other on SM", or whatever other kind of insecurity for some or just outright malice from others.

JM and JK are the same JM and JK they were before the hiatus and solo paths. Same same. With adjustments having to be made to a new reality of not spending close to 24/7 together. Adjusting to their crazy busy solo work and schedules. Adjusting to learning how to be alone when you are used to not being, because your significant other is submerged in his work while you are not. With adjustments to not having ot7 as their protecting glass closet. When you are used to being together close to 24/7 and circumstances change and you can't anymore, as a couple you need to adjust to that new reality and sometimes it's harder on one of you than the other. Not because you don't love each other or need each other equally, but because you are different people and adjust differently to this new reality.

And in the reality of these 2 young men, well it has been apparent since the beginning of 2023 that JK was the one that was struggling most with these changes. I'd say that this is can be a huge clue to his neurodivergence.

When we look at these two young men, whom I believe to be 2 queer young men in a long term loving relationship, not only do we need to look at them within the context of them being in one of the biggest if not THE biggest band in the world right now, living in a still mostly homophobic society and at the time were looking at enlisting for their 18 month military service, a military that still outlaws sexual relations between men.

This has to be understood while looking at Jikook throughout the years and in 2021-2023, things changing after creation of Hybe, going public, trying to buy out SM and the whole saga with MHJ (which was going on since Oct 2022 behind the scenes).

That's a good starting point understanding them in 2023 and going into watching Are you sure?

But that's not all.

There's more.

Seeing some of the reactions, comments, posts I feel the need to say this as well:

JM and JK are human beings.

They aren't characters in a drama.

This isn't The Bold and the Beautiful, JK not Ridge and JM not Brooke or vise versa (seriously, just picked the parallels because of the current hair colours). They weren't married and divorced ending up with others and then married again and divorced and with others and just going on and on and on. Ups and downs, ins and outs, together and parted. This is real life, not a TV show. Not only would their love not last that (and they clearly love each other), their interactions, their dynamics wouldn't just stay the same same. Not to mention what it would have done to the band and their own relationships with the others. They wouldn't survive it nor would the band. So don't create drama where there isn't is what I say.

What I see is a pretty much levelled long term couple. With relationship bumps in the road, adjustments, frustrations, moods.

I also see 2 queer young men who due to the reality of 2023 have close to zero camera time in one frame. And it shows.

But mainly I see LOTS AND LOTS OF LOVE FOR EACH OTHER.

On top of that I see both of them feeling physically unwell. Poor JM with his stomach issues and bursting pipe (yes I just said that, lol), and JK who has been ill for days, had to go to the hospital for treatment before his solo debut performance, for that performance to be fucked up by the weather. Man was definitley still unwell the whole time constantly sniffling and coughing. And JM worrying about JK's health is another indicator as to it not being nothing.

Bottom line: these are real life people with their own different characteristics, feelings, stress, anxiety, illnesses and the runs.

Not that they didn't know there will be cameras, they were well aware of it, but looks like JM was initially a little shocked to see just how many of them.

Even with the cameras and initial apparent awkwardness, not with each other, but with the whole "it's just the two of us on camera together, no other members to buffer", they are at ease with each other, smiling and giggling.

And even with the cameras and that on one hand need to say things but on the other need to still be wary of what you say and not to say too much - something they are expert at, even if it's been a while and takes them a bit to get back on the wagon with. Even with that they go back to that very jikooky type of formal - informal interaction with each other, JK 'forgetting' JM is the hyung out of the two (like I said, same same).

We have JM's cheeky comment about spooning JK if he's cold, one he insisted on implementing that same night. Mics on, cameras obviously on, but us not allowed to see a thing (and I will talk about this in another post - the whole "if there's nothing to hide how come we didn't get to see one of the apparently funniest moments of the trip, one that the the two and those around them couldn't shut up about?" (phew, that was a long question).

We also get a cute JM looking out for JK's health turning on the heat in the car, turning on his seat heater (without JK knowing about it, lol).

As a whole, those two in the car sounded like an old married couple. I was watching laughing the whole time, the whole thing feeling too familiar, lol.

But I know what you are all waiting for.

More so those that love to question their relationship.

Let's get on and discuss the car convo some are stressing over.

This:

But wait.

Before I talk about it, there's one more word I want to mention.

CONTEXT.

Context is EVERYTHING.

We all know that, right?

And what is the important context here?

Well, first of, this is all in front of the cameras.

Secondly, we ALL KNOW that even with their crazy schedules JM and JK DID GET TO SEE EACH OTHER in those months counting up to this trip, in private, just the two of them.

We know from them that they were together drinking the night before Hobi's enlistment, for example. We know JM was at JK's before JM left for London end of May, JK 'complaining' about having to change the way JM adjusted the mood lamp. We know they are the closest duo in the group, but beyond that, those two are just super close. We know that JK went live basically every time JM left for overseas and was overjoyed when JM showed up in his comments (including his comments during the mukbang live and perhaps coming over after he finished his schedule). This is before this trip. Let's not mention (or maybe let's) the flirt-fest we got in the JK in bed live that came shortly after this trip.

One other huge thing we seem to forget is that:

This is an edited product we are seeing.

Not a live discussion.

And even if it looks like the conversation is somewhat flowing, when you look really closely you see that there are cuts cuts cuts. Some might just be change of camera angle, others are real cuts where you can see that whatever was said was not said at the same time as a flowing conversation.

So, if you look carefully you will see that the first part of the discussion and the part where JM brings up V are not exactly in one flow. That there is a cut between what JK says, and we will get to that, don't fret, and when JM brings up him facetiming with V and what follows.

The start of it is also not clear. If what JM says about not going somewhere together in a while is the start of the flow of conversation, then the clip they are showing us of them in the car driving in the streets of NY is not connected to that, because the conversation continues when they are already out of town. 2 possibilities here. Either that was the start of the convo and for some reason they decided to show the car driving in NY even though the convo happened with them out of the city already. Or, once again, my point that maybe the convo isn't in one flow - even that first part of it. That JM did say what he said when they were still in the city and then their conversation following was edited in a way that we didn't get much of it until they were already out of the city and JK says what he says.

Reason I bring this up is again to emphasize the fact that as much as we are let in, we are still getting an edited product.

You know, same edited product that cuts out their flirty playful bedtime toothbrushing session.

I also want to bring this up, because I basically agree with much of what @shellbells-things the importance of them needing that getaway together (in this post):

This was written with the official translations in mind.

But you see, this is not what JK said.

The actual translation is basically JK calling out JM for not seeking him out enough!!!

And we also have this from @haedalkoo (thanks you for this post💜):

And why does it matter? Why do these different translations matter? Because they tell us a totally different story.

In the first you have JK saying that when one of them is busy, even though the other is not, he does not tend to call/reach out to the one that is busy. Basically this could be read as them not making an effort to contact the other even when they had time on their hands to do so. And perhaps that is why there are people up in arms about this, although my take of it is that even if this was the correct translation, which it is not, that understanding, that conclusion, would have been a very superficial one, disregarding the context of those two, who they are, where they are and what they are doing, as mentioned above.

In the other, what seems to be the more accurate translation, we have a salty boyfriend complaining about his partner not reaching out to him when he's busy, but also not reaching out to him when JK is busy, even if JM is not as busy.

"Your busy you don't seek me out, your not busy you don't seek me out"...

Now let's look at what JK said within the context of it all.

This isn't about them not seeing each other, not being in touch at all. Being estranged. Losing contact. Like so many want it to be about, given that would be so much more dramatic and 'interesting'.

This is about it not being enough for JK.

Enough being the key word.

JM and JK are different. They are both highly driven, and when JK has a JM by his side, said JM is a catalyst and has JK as driven as him. But you see, they weren't together. JM, being the workaholic that he is, highly driven with his work, having to give not 100% but 1000%, could easily lose himself in that work. And as much as he loves JK, or perhaps even more so because he's crazy about him, he can't have him around as a distraction. So, in a sense, when he works he can get lost in that work and that leaves little "free" time to spend with the person he loves, the person that loves him, the person that needs him. Same person that was REALLY struggling at the start of 2023 while JM was too absent. Again, that does not mean that JM was not spending time with JK. It was just not enough. Especially while JK was sort of lost at that point in a sense that he had no clear path set for himself. JK is different in the sense that JM is kind of his blankie, his anchor, his safe place. He needs JM around even when he is up to nothing (see JM's "he comes to my room to lie on my bed and do nothing" from the LA live 2021). And having him around is a need. Do we remember crying JK at the end of his lives on White day 2023. Heart wrenching. And again, it's not that JM doesn't need JK, he does, but a. his need is different to JK's, and b. JM was super busy at the time while JK was doing basically nothing.

And when JK was busy, well I'm guessing that JM was giving him the space he thought JK needed to work. But obviously this wasn't what JK wanted.

This saltiness is all coming from the same person that says he doesn't answer his phone calls or reply to texts. The person that JM complained when he doesn't answer his calls. With all that he still needed JM to reach out. He needed to know that JM is thinking about him.

This conversation isn't about them not seeing each other. It's about not seeing each other enough. It's about JM not seeking JK out as much as JK needed him to. And it's about them not being able, for whichever reasons (exterior or self inflicted) to do exactly this. Be out and about together. The two of them. This is exactly what you do in a healthy long term relationship. You talk. You are open. You tell your partner how you feel and what you need.

And you know what JK sounded like to me?

He reminded me of this JK:

The JK that even though he had already scolded JM he couldn't just let it go. That even though JM apologized several times and explained himself, he just couldn't let it go because it was weighing on him, that choice that he felt JM made.

And I know, I just know, that this conversation we got in the car was not a one of. That "Your here. Finally" we got from him at the end...

He needed this to happen, for JM to make this happen.

I will also add, even though I cannot go into too much detail at this point, that I feel that the : "You're here. Finally", has so much more sub context to it within the way they had both handled 2022-23 and that adjustment to the new reality. Not about it being easier for one over the other, but more so about how they handled this "apartness" that was kind of forced on them.

Anyway, that "finally", that was it for me. Seeing. No. Feeling how this was weighing on JK. Feeling just how important this was for him. JM making that effort and showing up for him like he did.

I hope that I have managed to get the message through. I will drill it in with my three keywords to this post:

COUPLE

CONTEXT

ENOUGH

I will end this by saying this:

Read that convo as you will, see those two as you will. At the end of the day not only did they CHOOSE to do this again and again (even with the little time they still had with their crazy schedules and upcoming enlistment). Not only did JK say he wanted to keep going with this until they are 50 years old. But they also CHOSE to enlist together. To be TOGETHER for those 18 months of military service. CHOOSING to do so knowing that meant a harder service and placement.

At the end of the day they CHOSE EACH OTHER.

And they will keep on doing so!!!

[alexanderlightweight]

Hi Lumine. Hope the moving's going well.

A continuation to accidental sugar daddy Alec? I just find it hilarious that Magnus is ready drop-kick anyone who might his wealth and position to Alec's notice.

its been a long time!!! we did finish the move safely! and then got COVID right after which is part of why everything tanked. but I'm back and so here we go, I hope you enjoy

i realized from the prompt that this might also be referring to 'the most fragile of poisons' so you can send me an ask if you meant that one. this is for blood of royals and there is the first bit

<3 lumine

blood of royals

Alec knows Magnus can afford whatever he wants.

That has always been obvious and very clear.

Still, there is a thrill to being able to do something, for Magnus.  Even if that something is as small and insignificant as buying him everything he wants when they’re out in mundane territory.

So if Alec texts Catarina about just what kind of fancy places Magnus likes that he can take them to without needing a portal.  

Still, Alec has to admit it’s nice to meet with Magnus and offer him a cutting of a particularly rare plant and see his glamour drop and his pupils dilate as he tests the magical properties of the plant.

True, Alec’s contacts in Idris are wondering why he’s dropping so much coin on importing plants, but Alec has more than enough to spare. His own greenhouses are one of the biggest cultivators for nephilim plants and Alec uses that to his advantage.

He’s especially shameless when it comes to Magnus, but since the delight of his life is Magnus’ happiness he doesn’t have a problem with that.

Seeing and helping Magnus be selfish helps Alec be selfish in turn and if anyone argues with him about any of it, Alec is going to either dropkick them into a rift or transfer them to Wrangel Island.

Alec has finally learned that being selfish is a survival instinct and he's proud to be selfish enough to want to thrive, not just survive in his life with Magnus.

Magnus laughs when Alec insists on paying for him, but there is also a glint of pleasure in his eyes and especially when they’re in the mundane world, a hint of smug superiority over everyone around them.

As with most things, Magnus looks incredibly amazing when exuding smugness and he’s definitely superior.

So it only makes Alec want to do it again.

And again.

—-

Magnus supposes he doesn’t need the black dress currently calling to him.  It’s needlessly extravagant and Magnus says that as someone who enjoys extravagance.

“Do you want to get it?” Alexander asks casually, barely looking up from where he’s trying to figure out how to lace the boots Magnus just tried on.

“Oh, I didn’t know you’d like me in a dress?”  Magnus lowers the pitch of his voice but not the volume and delights in how the room quietens around them. As if everyone else is also hanging onto Alexander’s next words.

“I like you in anything. It’s if you like yourself in it that matters.”

Magnus barely holds back a coo and only manages because there is a series of gasps to distract him.  Magnus knows he’s been the most envied man in the store since Alexander held the door open for him and then started earnestly bringing Magnus things that ‘would look stunning on him’.

This just cements it.

When Alexander says things like this, so serious and earnest as he says things that reform the world around Magnus. Well, you can’t help but know that he means them completely. Magnus laughs, handing the dress to the assistant currently trying not to blush at him and his oblivious shadowhunter.

“Then I suppose you’ll just have to get it for me. Because I loved myself in it.”

Alexander’s eyes light up, his grin charming and shy and belonging to Magnus alone as he leans forward to kiss it off his boy’s mouth.

There’s no need for the mundanes to see these private sides of his boy.

Let them see the image they’ve concocted of Magnus’ Alexander in their own heads.

Magnus will enjoy the reality all to himself.

[nofomogirl]

We need to talk about body snatching

I'm not a massive fan of the 1827 minisode - if you're curious why it bothers me, I've explained it in my post about two GO canons - but there's no denying it does an amazing job at exploring the complexity of morality and moral choices. It starts with a very black-and-white two-dimensional image and gradually adds shading and perspective, making it harder and harder to judge as we go along.

I think it's worth digging into (pun not intended but I'll take it).

Layer 1: body snatching bad

We learn someone did something

It's those first few seconds where we see a person robbing a grave, and since we know that robbing graves is a crime and generally not a good thing to do, we can quickly form a tentative conclusion that this is wrong.

Okay, in this exact instance, we immediately get enough context clues to see that this kind of judgment would be oversimplistic and superficial. Only Aziraphale, who for some reason acts as if it was his first day on Earth after a thorough memory wipe, is ready to condemn Elspeth based on just that.

Nevertheless, this is the first layer - the deed itself with no context.

Layer 2: body snatching acceptable

We learn about the person who did the thing

That's the whole journey with the first dug-up body where we get to know Elspeth and become privy to her circumstances - she's desperately poor, she has another person depending on her, she robs graves to survive. Aziraphale's suggestions that she might earn her living by selling books, weaving or farming just serve to prove how inaccessible more honest and dignified professions are to her. In turn, her comment about how she's not hurting anybody who isn't already dead hints that from the realistically available options, Elspeth could have chosen something much worse.

Technically this layer is a significant step up from layer 1 but it still isn't really challenging. Things are spelt out really loud for us, and most importantly everything we learn about Elspeth is just attenuating circumstances. To top it off both she and Wee Morag are immediately endearing. The takeaway is that sometimes things that in theory are bad can be excused which is important but the verdict still comes without any second thoughts.

Layer 3: body snatching complicated

We learn the larger context around the thing

This mostly happens when Aziraphale and Crowley discuss body snatching with Mr Dalrymple. We learn that the stolen corpses are used for a medical study that can advance human knowledge and make it possible to save living people and that surgeons have no legal means to obtain enough of them for their research - hence their need to buy them from body snatchers.

At first glance it's just more of what we got in layer 2 - more agruments in favour of body snatching that aren't all that nuanced and don't really give us any pause - just from a larger perspective, beyond Elspeth's individual experience. But if you glance more than once you'll notice this is when things stop being straightforward and easy to judge.

The moment we enter a proper grey area is when Aziraphale asks why Mr Dalrymple doesn't acquire the bodies himself. This is a very valid question - while we might easily agree that studying the human body to further medical knowledge is a good thing, and with just the slightest hesitation admit that it's acceptable to resort to using stolen bodies if that is the only way the research may continue, it's not as easy to excuse taking advantage of the poor and the desperate to do the actual stealing that we know is very dangerous.

The moment we know without a doubt we are in a proper grey area is when Mr Dalrymple laughs at Aziraphale's concern.

Objectively, the surgeon is right that it's more effective if he doesn't risk his own life in the graveyard and uses his time on actual research, teaching students and saving lives. But it's also clear he doesn't exactly see people like Elspeth as actual human beings and feels he has every right to use them. On the one hand, he is paying, on the other, he happily benefits from the cruel class system and is not even one bit remorseful about it. On the one hand, he takes risks too, on the other he has a chance of rewards Elspeth will not benefit from. It's not the poorest whose lives will get bettered by the progress of medicine, even though they're the ones who pay with their lives for that progress. And if Mr Dalrymple gets lucky and is knighted for his work (we know he wasn't in the end but it was a possibility), the poor still won't be pardoned for stealing for him. Nevertheless, he has no issue with that.

As I said, things get nuanced.

Layer 4: it's different when it's someone you know

The thing actually happens in your life

I think you'll all agree that the turning point of the minisode is when Elspeth decides to sell Wee Morag's still warm body. This is what finally leaves us speechless.

That's because up until now we've been approaching the issue intellectually. It's not that we didn't care about the characters, but we were allowed to keep a safe distance. The whole thing was like a problem to be solved - "Is body snatching right or wrong? Discuss in 500-1000 words" - and everything we've learned so far was data for this assignment. I believe that one of the reasons why this detachment came naturally was that there was a very thick line between people involved in body snatching and the bodies that were being snatched. The former were, well, people, obviously. The latter were inanimate objects.

It isn't until Wee Morag is to be sold that we are forced to see a person in a dead body. This is also when real emotions enter the equation.

This shift forces us to question our judgment for the first time. It was easy to justify Elspeth when she was selling a nameless corpse. But the fact that she decided to sell her closest companion - and most likely lover - shocks us. Something inside us strongly objects to how quickly she makes the decision.

And then there's the transaction, and it is also different when it's someone we know. The fact that we knew Wee Morag fully exposes Mr Dalrymple for the heartless jerk that he is. The way he treats Elspeth is the absolute worst and if you haven't realized he was a hypocrite earlier, you should be disillusioned by now.

But at least Elspeth is not a hypocrite, right? It may seem cold that she sold Wee Morag but it just proves she simply believed it's all right to sell a dead body, doesn't it?

Well, about that...

Layer 5: it's different when it's you

You are forced to face the thing happening to you

This layer is reached when Elspeth plans her suicide and asks Aziraphale and Crowley to bury her "somewhere where no ghouls will ever dig her back up again".

It turns out Elspeth McKinnon really was a filthy liar.

Not long ago she was insisting that body snatching doesn't hurt anyone who isn't already dead, and asking why she should let Wee Morag rot in the ground when she starves. But she wants to make sure it doesn't happen to her own body. The idea that someone might dig her up terrifies her and she calls people who do it ghouls. So why was digging up other people okay again? Why should she rot in the ground while other people suffer? There were other people living in the street where she and Wee Morag hid. Why not ask Aziraphale to give the money to them? Or just anybody in need? Why not ask to sell her body as well and use the earnings the same way?

Also, if you look at it from a certain perspective, Elspeth betrayed Wee Morag in the worst possible way. Wee Morag believed that if someone's body gets cut, that person's soul cannot enter Heaven. Yet Elspeth sold her to Mr Dalrymple, claiming that Wee Morag would have wanted her to have the means to survive. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps Wee Morag would have made that sacrifice. But then Elspeth decided to kill herself and use the money she got for Wee Morag's body for her own funeral.

But does it make Elspeth wicked? Certainly not. She's simply torn by grief. I seriously doubt she's been planning to commit suicide when she was taking Wee Morag to Mr Dalrymple. She might have genuinely tried to carry on but the reality of what happened caught up to her. Mr Dalrymple's cruel words certainly didn't help her cope with a personal tragedy. I even suspect one of the reasons she sold her friend was that she had no idea what else to do with a dead body.

Does this excuse her actions? Kind of, but not really.

Elspeth was a tragic character, not an innocent lamb with a heart of gold.

The point is - can any of us really judge her?

Which, coincidentally, is a question that the original Good Omens book toyed with quite a lot.

If you've reached this far, thank you for reading!

[unsolicited-opinions]

I used to run a doctor's office. If your doctor's office hasn't explained this to you, let me do it for them.

You probably don't know how much time your doctor and their staff spend fighting with insurance companies for routine, ordinary things. The stories you see online might leave you thinking that these fights are, if not rare, maybe occasional. A sometimes sort of challenge.

Nope.

It's every day. It's all day. Your doctor's office has employees who fight with insurance companies as a full time job.

This isn't an accident or a side effect of other market forces at work - this is the deliberate, calculated plan the insurance companies have chosen to implement. They know very well it is hurting patients and providers, and they're okay with that because their priority is to maximize ROI for investors and other stakeholders. They're in the business of business, and they don't give a single fuck about human beings or health care.

They've lowered reimbursements in primary care so effectively that primary care has only survived in many parts of the US by becoming a loss leader for larger health systems. You know how the local retail store gets you in the building by selling something at slightly below cost because they know you're likely to buy more once you're inside? It's like that, a loss leader.

The health system where you get your primary care often loses money when you see your PCP, but since your PCP refers you to speciality care inside their own organization, the system makes up the money when your doctor sends you to see their own systems' surgeons, endocrinologists, dermatologists, etc.

Smaller primary care practices literally can't survive. That's why there are almost no independent family doctors any longer. That's why it is so hard to see the same provider with consistency, someone with whom you can develop trust over time, who knows you and knows your challenges. United Healthcare and it's private healthcare insurance competitors have nearly finished killing off that kind of primary care.

Larger primary care practices (30-40 providers) might still be able to make ends meet independently through economies of scale and/or what they earn by doing their own lab/testing/imaging services in-house, but that won't work much longer if current trends continue. We're headed in the direction of just a handful of vertically integrated businesses running healthcare, and they are in the business of business, not health care.

The insurance companies deliberately create administrative barriers which make it expensive for your doctor's office to advocate for you because it moves administrative costs away from the insurance company and onto your doctor's office. This results in fewer paid claims when your doctor's office can't afford to hire another full time position whose only job is to argue with insurance companies and jump through their deliberately obstructive hoops. They want your PCP to be struggling to stay open. They want your PCP unable to afford the cost of overcoming the administrative burdens they have deliberately created for the purpose of denying you the health care your doctor thinks you need.

There are other words for this, but the most appropriate one is "evil."

I don't want to glorify murder or lionize Luigi Mangione, but Brian Thompson was a ghoul, his senior team are ghouls, and the for-profit health insurance industry is a disaster for Americans, even those Americans who don't yet see the problem affecting themselves. They will.

We need universal, single-payer health coverage, just like every other wealthy nation.

We're not going to get it any time soon, and things are about to get worse for healthcare in the US.

Set aside the damage RFK Jr is likely to do to an already patchwork public health system by attacking regulations and spreading misinformation. Let's look at other ways Trump and the GOP plan to worsen health care.

1. They're going to go after Medicare and Medicaid benefits. They'll seek to lower them and raise the bar which must be cleared to receive them.

2. They're going to seek to raise the age for social security benefits (above 70!), and reduce benefits paid, so the most financially vulnerable seniors will have greater out-of-pocket costs. Those seniors are going to struggle harder with out-of-pocket costs.

3. They're going to attempt to cripple the Affordable Care Act (AKA 'Obamacare'), despite the fact that the ACA has been a HUGE money maker for the private insurance companies.

4. This administration will be run by hyper capitalist billionaires. It will seek to deregulate wherever possible and promote supply-side economics (tax breaks for the rich and large corporations) at every opportunity. United Healthcare and its competitors, which already weild an obscene, horrific amount of control over US Healthcare, are about to get substantially more power.

It's bad, folks. It's a very bad time to be sick and it's going to get worse.

Alan Grayson was right in 2009. The Republican health care plan has been and remains:

* Don't get sick

* If you do get sick, die quickly.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Yanis Varoufakis’s “Technofeudalism: What Killed Capitalism?”

Monday (October 2), I'll be in Boise to host an event with VE Schwab. On October 7–8, I'm in Milan to keynote Wired Nextfest.

Socialists have been hotly anticipating the end of capitalism since at least 1848, when Marx and Engels published The Communist Manifesto - but the Manifesto also reminds us that capitalism is only too happy to reinvent itself during its crises, coming back in new forms, over and over again:

https://www.nytimes.com/2022/10/31/books/review/a-spectre-haunting-china-mieville.html

Now, in Technofeudalism: What Killed Capitalism, Yanis Varoufakis - the "libertarian Marxist" former finance minister of Greece - makes an excellent case that capitalism died a decade ago, turning into a new form of feudalism: technofeudalism:

https://www.penguin.co.uk/books/451795/technofeudalism-by-varoufakis-yanis/9781847927279

To understand where Varoufakis is coming from, you need to go beyond the colloquial meanings of "capitalism" and "feudalism." Capitalism isn't just "a system where we buy and sell things." It's a system where capital rules the roost: the richest, most powerful people are those who coerce workers into using their capital (factories, tools, vehicles, etc) to create income in the form of profits.

By contrast, a feudal society is one organized around people who own things, charging others to use them to produce goods and services. In a feudal society, the most important form of income isn't profit, it's rent. To quote Varoufakis: "rent flows from privileged access to things in fixed supply" (land, fossil fuels, etc). Profit comes from "entrepreneurial people who have invested in things that wouldn't have otherwise existed."

This distinction is subtle, but important: "Profit is vulnerable to market competition, rent is not." If you have a coffee shop, then every other coffee shop that opens on your block is a competitive threat that could erode your margins. But if you own the building the coffee shop owner rents, then every other coffee shop that opens on the block raises the property values and the amount of rent you can charge.

The capitalist revolution - extolled and condemned in the Manifesto - was led by people who valorized profits as the heroic returns for making something new in this world, and who condemned rents as a parasitic drain on the true producers whose entrepreneurial spirits would enrich us all. The "free markets" extolled by Adam Smith weren't free from regulation - they were free from rents:

https://locusmag.com/2021/03/cory-doctorow-free-markets/

But rents, Varoufakis writes, "survived only parasitically on, and in the shadows of, profit." That is, rentiers (people whose wealth comes from rents) were a small rump of the economy, slightly suspect and on the periphery of any consideration of how to organize our society. But all that changed in 2008, when the world's central banks addressed the Great Financial Crisis by bailing out not just the banks, but the bankers, funneling trillions to the people whose reckless behavior brought the world to the brink of economic ruin.

Suddenly, these wealthy people, and their banks, experienced enormous wealth-gains without profits. Their businesses lost billions in profits (the cost of offering the business's products and services vastly exceeded the money people spent on those products and services). But the business still had billions more at the end of the year than they'd had at the start: billions in public money, funneled to them by central banks.

This kicked off the "everything rally" in which every kind of asset - real estate, art, stocks, bonds, even monkey JPEGs - ballooned in value. That's exactly what you'd expect from an economy where rents dominate over profits. Feudal rentiers don't need to invest to keep making money - remember, their wealth comes from owning things that other people invest in to make money.

Rents are not vulnerable to competition, so rentiers don't need to plow their rents into new technology to keep the money coming in. The capitalist that leases the oil field needs to invest in new pumps and refining to stay competitive with other oil companies. But the rentier of the oil field doesn't have to do anything: either the capitalist tenant will invest in more capital and make the field more valuable, or they will lose out to another capitalist who'll replace them. Either way, the rentier gets more rent.

So when capitalists get richer, they spend some of that money on new capital, but when rentiers get richer, them spend money on more assets they can rent to capitalists. The "everything rally" made all kinds of capital more valuable, and companies that were transitioning to a feudal footing turned around and handed that money to their investors in stock buybacks and dividends, rather than spending the money on R&D, or new plants, or new technology.

The tech companies, though, were the exception. They invested in "cloud capital" - the servers, lines, and services that everyone else would have to pay rent on in order to practice capitalism.

Think of Amazon: Varoufakis likens shopping on Amazon to visiting a bustling city center filled with shops run by independent capitalists. However, all of those capitalists are subservient to a feudal lord: Jeff Bezos, who takes 51 cents out of every dollar they bring in, and furthermore gets to decide which products they can sell and how those products must be displayed:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/28/enshittification/#relentless-payola

The postcapitalist, technofeudal world isn't a world without capitalism, then. It's a world where capitalists are subservient to feudalists ("cloudalists" in Varoufakis's thesis), as are the rest of us the cloud peons, from the social media users and performers who fill the technofuedalists' siloes with "content" to the regular users whose media diet is dictated by the cloudalists' recommendation systems:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

A defining feature of cloudalism is the ability of the rentier lord to destroy any capitalist vassal's business with the click of a mouse. If Google kicks your business out of the search index, or if Facebook blocks your publication, or if Twitter shadowbans mentions of your product, or if Apple pulls your app from the store, you're toast.

Capitalists "still have the power to command labor from the majority who are reliant on wages," but they are still mere vassals to the cloudalists. Even the most energetic capitalist can't escape paying rent, thanks in large part to "IP," which I claim is best understood as "laws that let a company reach beyond its walls to dictate the conduct of competitors, critics and customers":

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

Varoufakis points to ways that the cloudalists can cement their gains: for example, "green" energy doesn't rely on land-leases (like fossil fuels), but it does rely on networked grids and data-protocols that can be loaded up with IP, either or both of which can be turned into chokepoints for feudal rent-extraction. To make things worse, Varoufakis argues that cloudalists won't be able to muster the degree of coordination and patience needed to actually resolve the climate emergency - they'll not only extract rent from every source of renewables, but they'll also silo them in ways that make them incapable of doing the things we need them to do.

Energy is just one of the technofeudal implications that Varoufakis explores in this book: there are also lengthy and fascinating sections on geopolitics, monetary policy, and the New Cold War. Technofeudalism - and the struggle to produce a dominant fiefdom - is a very useful lens for understanding US/Chinese tech wars.

Though Varoufakis is laying out a technical and even esoteric argument here, he takes great pains to make it accessible. The book is structured as a long open letter to his father, a chemical engineer and leftist who was a political prisoner during the fascist takeover of Greece. The framing device works very well, especially if you've read Talking To My Daughter About the Economy, Varoufakis's 2018 radical economics primer in the form of a letter to his young daughter:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9780374538491/talkingtomydaughterabouttheeconomy

At the very end of the book, Varoufakis calls for "a cloud rebellion to overthrow technofeudalism." This section is very short - and short on details. That's not a knock against the book: there are plenty of very good books that consist primarily or entirely of analysis of the problems with a system, without having to lay out a detailed program for solving those problems.

But for what it's worth, I think there is a way to plan and execute a "cloud rebellion" - a way to use laws, technology, reverse-engineering and human rights frameworks to shatter the platforms and seize the means of computation. I lay out that program in The Internet Con: How the Seize the Means of Computation, a book I published with Verso Books a couple weeks ago:

https://www.versobooks.com/products/3035-the-internet-con

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/28/cloudalists/#cloud-capital

[sulfies]

If I Lead (pt3)

Part 2 here

Vincesco stood true by his word.

 Desmond didn't even need to use most of his skillset which he was happy about. He took it easy and dodged when he needed and accepted some punches when It seemed like he was going overboard. He was not trying to climb the ranks in a race and make a name, he just needed to be off the training wheels. And It had worked. The young lad looked a bit pissed off about not winning against him but Desmond didn't care much about it.

The next day he was given instructions and pocket money to get himself some gear that fitted him. Now equipped with warmer clothes and shoes that actually fit he was faring better. 

Marsilio also was paying him quite a good amount of money for basically doing nothing but walking around and swinging his sword to train every now and then…. He really couldn't understand why the mercenaries complained about Ezio cutting their wages since he became in charge, just how much Mario was paying them before?

A month passed in this new lazy routine.

He made home in his guard tower. He was used to sleeping outside and wasting money on rent seemed unnecessary when he had little to no belongings. He bought himself some extra blankets to cushion the stone ground and shield from the cold wind at night. His lodging was enough for him.

He was rarely in it unless he was sleeping anyway.

He would wake up before dawn, bathe in the stream right outside the village a few minutes away if he needed, and then he would make his way to the barracks.

It was peaceful really…

He was terribly bored.

There was not much for him to do, sometimes he would get called to patrol outside the woods to see if any bandits were camping around but they have yet to see one since he has been here. Every now and then he would group with some people for training, but most of the time he was left alone as long as he reported to the barracks first thing of the day.

He had taken hunting as a hobby, going out around mid-noon to catch some small game to bring to the butcher. It gave him food and some extra savings money. He wanted to save enough to buy a horse so he could travel without problems, taking detours if he needed but horses were expensive. 

The barracks stable had a few but they all had their owners and the ones that did not were there if the need arose.  Also, he really wasn't looking to be known as -the horse thief-.

Sometimes Vincesco would call him over to go for a drink at the tavern, each time he would accept with the guilt eating him from inside out. He was not supposed to lay around and get drunk. He had people he needed to get back to, people who he was to guide but he could not refuse his bosses.

So he would drink a mug or two of the piss-tasting beer, the cheapest money could find as slowly as he could till the rest were drunk enough for them to not realize he was faking his stumbles on the street. Once everyone parted he would climb up to his den and force himself to sleep.

He was going mad.

Desmond wasn't used to being this useless. He was used to waking up and having a mission to complete.

Find us a new water-source Desmond, We need food Desmond the field has yet to yield any, Desmond help us move this rocks over so we can prepare the shelter, Desmond climb up the mountain to see if there is anything that survived

and he did it all without complaints.

He travelled for days or months to see if there was anything new, he noted down any new changes he could see. He helped Shaun with whatever he needed his strength or body for. He helped Rebecca gather whatever supply she was going to need to make their lives easier. That was his job.

He was there to calm the people down, remind them that gods had not forsaken them but they had been given a new beginning. To not panic but have hope so humankind could survive long after them.

It was all bullshit really, to keep the leftover people from going mad. 

In the darkest times, religion was most of the time the home of hope they needed to shelter in. But it had worked.

They had a functioning farm, bushes that yielded berries, small huts that gave lodging to people. They were actually seeing growth after 20 years, grass was filling the land and young trees were growing taller. They were finally getting somewhere so Desmond had left on a new expedition to find some more survivors further back from the camp to see if anyone was left.

And then he was here.

Lying on his blankets he watched the stars, tracing the groups with his eyes trying to remember the names Shaun taught them, the ones he couldn't remember without his books, Rebecca had made up stupid nicknames for.

He missed them terribly nowadays… Even his father.

William had died just three years ago. The grief lingered more than he had expected. All the issues they had before seemed so small after the flare, they never patched things up but they didn't fight like they used to. Desmond knew he bore some guilt about convincing him to not go through with the shields. They all did.

They each had their turns to cry, shout and laugh crazy about it then cry some more. The three blamed themselves which in turn made Desmond blame himself more. It was an endless cycle they decided to put behind themselves to focus on the now. 

Desmond turned to his side, inhaling deeply, his hair tickling his neck from the wind. He listened to the nocturnal birds and closed his eyes. He hoped they were safe above all else. 

---------------------------

Two weeks passed by fast and Desmond's routine did not change. Wake up, bathe, barracks, busywork, hunt, do something… anything… then sleep. He had taken to sharpening the unused swords and upkeep of them for today's activity since no one else was bothering to do it. 

Near a clearing around the stable, he was sitting on a stool, sharpening one sword after another with a whetstone on his lap, adding them to a pile. 

“Actually working for your coins Domenico? You should join the others inside for a few cups.”

He looked at the voice that was calling him. Angelo, one from Marsillios circle. He gave a polite smile back. “Not much to do and I don't like drinking while the sun is up, gives me issues at night.” 

“Smart man, keeping your soldier ready for when it's needed.”

Desmond made a face at the joke, He never stepped a foot in the brothel. A lot of the recruit's freshly earned coins ended up in there almost the day they gained them… then trickled back into the economy. He did not want to think about the amount of STD’s circulating around. Even if everyone was magically clean… sex had been the last thing on his mind for a long while.

“Please, If the wife learned I even dared to breathe next to one of the honey pots she would have my head.” 

“Oh come on, how would she even know?”

He hummed in answer and smiled “Trust me she would… and I like to keep my manhood intact till I die”

Angelo laughed and walked near him. Eyeing the swords lying on a pile on the side, the ones that were ready to be polished.

“Needed me for anything?” 

The other man shifted his weight “Marsillio wanted me to let people know to be extra sharp the next few days, actually do what he says and whatnot… not that you need a reminder.”

“Why is that? Is Ser Mario coming to check the barracks again?” He had seen him a couple of times, the man usually looked around for a few minutes then joined the backroom to talk about what he needed to.

“Nah, the actual big boss is coming back any day now. Sent in a word with his bird, arrived just an hour ago to the villa.”

Desmond's whole body tensed in a second. It was not hard to figure out who the nickname belonged to.

Ezio was coming back.

He forced himself to relax. “A-ah… so we need to be on our best behaviour?”

“Mmhm. You might be asked to go to the training grounds a bit more and longer than you are used to, we need to look busy lest we want more budget cuts. The young master has already been bleeding us dry…”

Desmond gave a nervous chuckle and placed the sword in his hand on the pile. “Alright, no problem for me but I know a lot of the kids are going to groan and moan about it”

“Yeah they already are, Vinchesco is not happy about it so I'm sending you up next to him for morale.” A soft pat landed on his shoulder “Think yourself as second in charge. A small promotion with no pay raise”

Angelo left his side with a smile.

“Great”

Not great… he couldn't even hide next to the recruits as they trained.

He might visit the church just to pray and hope that Ezio doesn't give a shit about the training area and just passes by it. 

Maybe he could fake a stomachache or the plague… ask for a toilet break as soon as Ezio stepped foot through the gates…

---------------------------

For two days Desmond’s every limb was aware of every movement and talk around him. They were patrolling a lot more and training a lot longer. 

He wished he was just given the duty of cleaning around the barracks but Vincheso liked him for some reason enough to ask him to stick by his side.

“If I have to hear any more whining I might actually have them train till sunrise…”

Desmond shrugged his shoulders and he listened to him complain, not much different than the recruits. He figured it out the second day while Vinchesco’s job was to babysit the newbies, Desmond’s job was to babysit him. “You know if you guys were more strict from the get-go they wouldn't feel this comfortable crying about it.”

“And make my own job harder? Training doesn't teach a man how to swing a sword anyway, they actually need to fight to become man is what I think. I sure didn't learn how to kill from stabbing these stupid straw dummies couple times a day.”

“I'm not sure just charging into the enemy will teach them much is all I’m saying… well other than dying.”

Vinchesco leaned back onto the railing “Meh, I send the ones that show promise to the others that actually put them to work.” he waved his hand around “All this is just, keeping the meatshields sharper.”

Desmond sighed, what a way to raise an army… Ezio really needed to keep tighter reins around these bunch and overhaul the system… but he rather Ezio do that once he got to Venice and away from here.

“You are way too uptight Dominico. It's good here. We get coin, we get food, we drink then we fuck and then we sleep. Living it up like nobles almost… you should enjoy it more, I’m sure you fought plenty of battles in your youth but this is not a battlefield and we got Ser Ezio behind us if else happens. The man is his own army.”

Desmond's jaw clenched, old memories of the fall of this Monterriggioni flashing in his mind. No wonder no one was alerted till it was too late… he always thought the Village was captured way too easily.

“Mmhm… I'll try” he smiled back with a strain “Old habits die hard, that's all… the guard schedule back in Florence was way more strict.”

“More the reason to-”  “HE IS BACK! SER EZIO IS BACK”

A shout cut off Vinchesco’s word, The messenger ran towards them. 

Desmon felt the anxiety boil in his gut

“Shit…”