#eclipse cultural significance

[lyricsolution-com]

Lunar Eclipse In September 2024: Things To Do Before, During, And After Chandra Grahan | Culture News

September’s full moon, a supermoon, will be partially eclipsed by Earth. This celestial event, visible on September 18, will begin at 7:42 AM IST and end at 8:45 AM IST in India. The eclipse, visible across multiple continents, will have Saturn accompanying the spectacle. Though only 8% of the moon will be covered, it holds cultural significance, especially in India, where certain rituals and…

[elminx]

Energy Update: Lunar Eclipse 9/17/24

Note: all dates and times are in EDT

We are fast approaching our lunar eclipse, which will occur at 10:45PM on Tuesday, 9/17, at 25° Pisces. This eclipse is an off-element eclipse, which means that although our lunar nodes are still on the Aries-Libra axis, this eclipse will occur while the Sun is in Virgo and the Moon is in Pisces.

We are nearing the end of this lunar cycle (the nodes switch over to the Pisces-Virgo axis in January), and this eclipse can be viewed as a preview of the next cycle.

Pisces-Virgo (the North Node is always listed first) is a 12-6 cycle, with our North Node focused on Piscean matters and our South Node pointing away from Virgoic matters. Both Pisces and Virgo have a shared interest in serving humanity - Virgo serves humanity in the physical realm, and Pisces serves humanity in the spiritual realm. As the North node turns towards Pisces, we cross the cosmic line between sign number 1 (Aries) backward into sign number 12 (Pisces).

In a way, this first early Pisces lunar eclipse may seem like a de-evolution, but it's an important part of the process. This entire year (and 2025 as well) is one of transition. We are in the in-between, the liminal if you will. Many of us are being forced to walk forward in the unknown, but others are hanging back and clinging to what was.

Astrology is, at its most base form, a study of the cycles of life. We all know that winter follows autumn and eventually leads into spring. Likewise, monumental changes (like a worldwide pandemic) have a ripple effect that slowly morphs the world. There is no going backward. We all need to adapt. This cycle began in January 2020 when most of our planets (except for Neptune and Uranus) all met up in Capricorn simultaneously.

We have gone through the physical side of things (Taurus), and we were forced to face ourselves and what it meant for each of us individually as people (Aries). Now, we all need to deal with the spiritual side of how it impacted us (Pisces).

Pisces can be a really wise sign, but it can also be highly immature. The 12th sign in the zodiac can be seen as an amagym of all the wisdom of the signs that have come before it. Alternatively, it can also be the purest seed of a child yet to be born at dawn in Aries. Expect this lunation to bring up some major birthing pains or death pains, depending on your outlook and stage of life.

Standard eclipse advice applies: Eclipse season carries with it wild card energy but it is often referred to as the hand of fate reaching into our lives. At times, it can seem like anything is possible during and between our eclipse pairs, but a wise astrology student knows what comes and goes during the eclipse is meant to be. Eclipses don't so much erase what has come before; they tend to realign us with where we are supposed to be.

I think this is what people find the most unsettling about eclipses. Our Western culture has a pretty iffy opinion about fate and free choice. I want to be clear here that astrology does not take away your personal choice or control your life; it is merely a guideline that shows - with a high deal of accuracy - how your life will likely play out.

The first place one would look in a natal birth chart to determine this is (you guessed it) the lunar nodes. Each of us was born under particular nodal energy, symbolized by one of the six astrological Sun sign pairs. How much any individual eclipse cycle will affect you will be determined in part by your lunar nodal pairs and how the current eclipse cycle interacts with your natal chart.

Allowing for a 5° orb, we can say that next Tuesday's eclipse will affect the following groups of people in order of significance:

Anyone with a planet at 25° in a mutable sign (Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius, Pisces) firstly or any sign secondly

Anyone with a personal planet from 20-29° Pisces or Virgo (Conjunction and Opposition)

Anyone with a personal planet from 20-29° Gemini or Sagittarius (square)

Anyone with a personal planet from 20-29° Taurus, Cancer, Scorpio, Capricorn, and Pisces (trine and sextile)

Anyone with the lunar nodes on the Virgo/Pisces axis

Anyone with the Sun or Moon in Virgo or Pisces

Anyone with a personal planet, Jupiter, or Saturn between 20-29° in any sign

I want to reiterate here that eclipses do not have to have negative or harmful effects. Some eclipses visit us as great epiphanies about what we should do with our lives.

Eclipses seem to rock our worlds when we are holding on to something we are not meant to be anymore. Because we are all imperfect, stupid, fragile, egoic humans (affectionate), this happens far more often than we would like to admit.

If it happens to you, it's okay. Surviving these moments is a part of living our stupid human lives. Astrology is a huge cosmic sign in the sky saying: sometimes it isn't you. Sometimes you couldn't have done any better. Sometimes everything sucks, and it's okay to not be okay. Part of being human is getting knocked down, crying over the spilled milk until you can't cry anymore, and then getting the fuck back up again.

Life hasn't been fair to us. Like all of us. Collectively. Every single human that has been living on this planet had a fucking sucky four years.

This is a watery eclipse, and it's going to bring some serious 12th house unconscious shit. That's what a Pisces moon is made to do.

You are probably going to cry over it even if you do it in the shower so that the sound is and nobody hears you. As your friendly neighborhood astrologer, let me tell you: it's okay not to be okay.

Those of you who are afraid of the darkness may have a really hard time. That's okay, too. If that's you, do your best and maybe lie low early next week. Practice your best self-care often and early.

For those of you who live here, have planets in Pisces or the 12th house, or are drawn to working with and in the shadows, if you have the bandwidth, now is the time to pay attention.

This crossover point between Pisces and Aries will be very important next year (much like the cross-over from Capricorn to Aquarius featured heavily in the energy of 2024). In January, the North Node will move from Aries to Pisces. In March, Neptune will move from Pisces to Aries. In October, retrograde Neptune moves from Aries into Pisces.

I've already discussed the starting/stopping/backtracking/starting/stopping pattern we've been in all year.

The easiest way forward is to allow the 12th house of Pisces to show you what you need to see. It's as simple as that. (ironic)

Oh yeah, it's a Pisces full moon, so you should clean your house.

Wash, wash, wash it all away.

Do you like my work? Kofi

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

NASCAR Pantera ‐ First To 300

A reporter sat in a late-night cafe, sipping coffee and attempting to calm his nerves after a high-speed ride with Gary and his Pantera. The deafening roar of the V-8 engine still echoed in his mind, and his hands shook as he held his cup. It was as if he had just escaped from the clutches of the devil himself. Tragically, a few minutes later the devil caught up with Garry Mitsunaga and his red Pantera!

For students of Japanese car culture, the Mitsunaga Pantera that graced the cover of Option Magazine is a significant page of Asian tuning lore, as it was the first street-legal vehicle to achieve a recorded speed of 300 km/h in Japan.

Actual speed was 307.69 km/h on the infamous Yatabe Test Circuit in November 1981, making it the most legendary Pantera in all of Japan. Figuring Yatabe was too dangerous for civilian drivers, and wanting to take the human element of unpredictability out of things, driving duties at this event were performed by professional racer Kunimitsu Takahashi, who is considered the father of drifting.

Yatabe was the preeminent destination for high-speed testing in Japan from the 1960s to the 1990s. However, it was closed two decades ago due to a tragic accident involving Masa Saito, the editor of the tuning magazine Option. After the accident manufacturers started shifting towards more contemporary testing facilities.

Prior to the Porsche-vs-Skyline dreams of the 1990s, the streets of Japan were ruled by the infamous Midnight Club running Pantera's, Firebirds and American V-8s. For those unaware of the Pantera, it is an Italian-American sportscar with a Ford 351 Cleveland engine and were sold in the early 70's through Lincoln Mercury dealerships.

Leading up to November 1981, top speeds were achieved by vehicles such as the S30 Fairlady, tuned by SS Kubo, which reached a maximum speed of 257.60km/h. The fastest imported car, surprisingly, was the Trust Firebird Trans-Am, which recorded a top speed of 264.71km/h. So when the Pantera eclipsing the 300km/h mark it was a huge leap forward and a landmark achievement, becoming the benchmark for all the street racers and tuners to beat.

Mitsunaga was not entirely content. Only a speed above 320 km/h (200 mph) would suffice. It is said that Takahashi advised him against driving the Pantera outside of a racetrack. Mitsunaga disregarded the warning.

Just before the accident, he was transporting a journalist down a 38 kilometer (24 mile) stretch of the Tomei Expressway. With a recorded time of 6 minutes and 20 seconds he averaged 250 KM/H ( ~160 MPH).

Not long after dropping off that rattled journalist, he supposedly totaled his Pantera while avoiding a taxi. They meet their end at approximately 1:40 a.m. on November 28, 1981. Tragically, Mitsunaga died in the accident, instantly.

At the moment of his death, Garry Allan Mitsunaga was already a legend in the Japanese dragstrip and top-speed racing scene. He was an American, born in Hawaii and employed by the Harman Kardon audio group. The company sent him to Tokyo in 1975 to work for one of its Japanese divisions, in sales.

Upon his passing, he was revered as a patron saint of street racing, inspiring countless individuals to pursue ever-greater velocities. Despite his non-Japanese origin, he was a hero to the local community, and his legacy lived on through the Mitsunaga Pantera, a symbol of both the thrill and the peril of this high-octane pursuit. Although the whereabouts of the Pantera are unknown, its engine showed up for sale in 1995.

NASCAR

Mitsunaga's Pantera, was tuned by Masaru Hosoki from ABR, one of Japans most famous tuners. It also featuring a 600hp engine built by Mario Rossi, an American NASCAR mechanic and crew chief for the likes of Bobby Allison and Glenn “Fireball” Roberts. Rossi was also the guy that built the only Dodge Daytona to compete during the 1971 season. It's only race was finishing 7th at the Daytona 500 with a de-stroked Plymouth 340 TA engine to meet the new 305ci engine displacement mandate for the five Ford & Chrysler aero cars during the 1971 NASCAR season.

Rossi has been embroiled in controversy since his involvement in the $300 million drug smuggling scandal that shook NASCAR in 1982. Four days after the 1982 Daytona 500 in Florida, authorities arrested 66 people, including several associated with NASCAR teams, on what has been labeled “Black Thursday.” Among those implicated in the scheme that authorities believe grossed $300 million were owner Billie Harvey and driver Gary Balough from the team on which Rossi was working as a mechanic. Rossi’s role (if any) in the drug operation is unclear – though his own daughter implicates him.

Rossi's whereabouts have been a mystery since his disappearance, with some believing him to be in the witness protection program in the United States. Despite claims of his death in a plane crash off the Bahamas in 1983, the insurance company asserts that the plane in question has been sold multiple times without any recorded accidents.

What’s legend and what’s fact we are unlikely to ever know for certain. What we do know, however, is that Garry Mitsunaga and his Pantera dared to dance with the devil in the witching hour.

[courtofcrescent]

Hi! What do the ROs look like?

Hi there, Dear Anon!

Since I’ve already covered that here, lemme share a bit about the ROs' fashion instead!

MALLORY

He tries to familiarise himself with the culture of his new land, which includes adapting his fashion. Soo he discards his Imperial fur fashion and opts for light, breathable fabrics suitable for Luxendis's tropical climate, though he still chooses to wear black—an unconventional choice in a kingdom that favors lighter and bright colors.

Mallory wears a long sleeve flowing robe with a deep V neckline that's fashionable among the noblemen of Luxendis. The robe is tailored to fit loosely, cinched at the waist with a leather belt that accentuates his figure and provides a place to hang his beloved dagger. The collar is adorned with silver thread embroidery of a crescent moon—quite a peculiar choice for someone of his station who usually favors gold. His choice of footwear includes sturdy leather boots or thick sandals, a mix of practicality and appropriateness.

There's a royal signet ring on his left ring finger, and a smooth silver wedding ring with a small diamond in his right. A silver circlet completes Mallory's kingly attire, a gift from the Empress that affirms his legitimacy as the Ruler of Court of Crescent.

VIVIAN

She's rarely seen out of her armor, so there are few significant changes in her everyday appearance. Vivian still wears her trusty black steel plate armor that has accompanied her since her knightly ceremony. But for practicality, she has swapped her thick fabric for much lighter one and replaced her fur cloak with linen in a dark blue color. She certainly stands out like an unwelcome eclipse in the sea of bright pastel colors. And can seamlessly blend into shadows.

However, if you do manage to see the Knight outside of her usual armor, you would find her in a loose-fitting, flowing dress—still in dark colors—befitting a noblewoman of her status. In this rare change of attire, she forgoes her boots for flat shoes and adorns herself with her vast collection of bracelets and rings.

Nevertheless, regardless of her outfit, her trusty obsidian sword never strays far from her left hand.

ELLIS

Absolutely one step ahead of the fashionable attire at the moment. He still runs his merchant empire, of course he can't misses out on goods that will become popular, no? Preferably, he must be the one who starts the trends.

With the new reign, Ellis—and his dressmaker friends—predicts that high-born men's fashion will become more subtle. So he adapts, and he makes sure it'll soon become a blast! The color of his sleeveless robe become more subdued and the embroidery become less prominent. But he still uses his signature sexy style with deep, wide neckline that proudly displays his chest.

The simpler style also give him the perfect opportunity to adorn himself with more gold and even more gems, doubling his jewelry from head to his flat sandals, ranging from earrings and rings to necklaces and anklets. More shiny, more better. Ellis needs to be eye catching, after all. And it’s great for boosting gem sales!

SORIN

Despite coming from a noble house renowned for gold mining, she's surprisingly understated in the jewelry department. The only accessory Sorin wears is a gold headpiece of frangipanis, which she has in various shapes and styles. However, that alone is sufficient, as her radiant beauty doesn't require additional embellishments.

Sorin dons a sleeveless drape dress in a bright light color. She favors a sleeveless drape dress with a plunging neckline. The dress fits snugly around her small waist and is adorned with floral embroidery in shiny gold thread. Her feet are typically protected by soft and fluffy embroidered flat shoes.

Her style is quite simpler compared to the usual noble glamour—though it is as simple as a wealthy noblewoman can be. A more subtle display of wealth, as the luxurious quality and the abundance of fabric in her attire is evident to all.

E̴N̵I̶G̵M̸A̷

S̷e̵x̷y a̵nd ̶Wil̴d̴.

Thank you for the ask! 🩶

[tangledbea]

Do you think eclipses mean anything culturally significant to Corona? Or any of the other Seven Kingdoms?

I think that in the past, eclipses were extremely culturally significant to Corona. After all, even without my headcanon that they're sun worshippers, with their emblem as the sun, an eclipse would be blotting out the symbol of their kingdom, which is incredibly significant in a symbolic way. That's a bad omen, that is.

However, humans have known what causes an eclipse for thousands of years. Even so, we modern humans look at the sky and feel awe when we see the moon fully eclipse the sun. All this tells me that Corona, the party kingdom, holds a festival when a total solar eclipse happens, and the few minutes of totality are cause for immense celebration, because what do you see when the sun is fully eclipsed by the moon?

The corona.

Though the sun has been temporarily blotted out, the name of the kingdom itself is finally visible, and it is phenomenal to behold. (Varian is passing out eclipse-viewing goggles like nobody's business. Please don't look directly at the sun without protection!)

[talonabraxas]

Hekate: Goddess of The Eclipse Talon Abraxas

Eclipses are such a powerful time to explore darkness, so very Hekatean in their essence for they not only either dim the world or occur at night when they are visible, but are also liminal times. As part of my personal studies, I reflect on experiences during the previous eclipses to see how they brought powerful medicine to me.

Eclipses are generally turning points, a type of Nyssa experience (refer to Entering Hekate's Garden if you are unfamiliar with that term). As Hekateans, the MOON will always be highly influential since we are naturally attuned to it's powers: emotions, intuition, magic(k), mystery. They are sacred events when we can behold the majesty of the universe, and Hekate Anima Mundi, with awe and wonder.

Generally, I recommend connecting to the eclipse in a more intuitive manner during the precise times, such as contemplative work of devotion (see prayer below), and reserving spells and rituals for hours before/after. Viewing eclipses in person is deeply spiritual experience, which I have been fortunate enough to have many times.

Understanding Eclipses: Significance and Characteristics

"The metaphor for the violence done to the goddess as a representative of natural order and the balance of the natural world appropriately takes the form in the celestial sphere as an abrupt and frightening change in the heavens: an eclipse. The actions of this goddess as eclipse are not the warrior goddess archetype but the intellectually powerful and disturbed nature of a goddess represented as a raging fury determined to shake the universe, darken the skies, and set the world into a readjustment of its values after experiencing the chaos of the unnatural. Eventually, her power is to astound, frighten, and horrify to create the required and necessary change to the culture of the patriarchy that is out of sync with nature. Therefore, her power dwells in the unmasking of uncertainty and the shocking of mankind to evoke revenge and correct misconduct through a demonstration of cosmic change." From "Goddesses of The Eclipses," by Helen Benigni.

I don't feel the need to say more about their significance, especially to us Hekateans. This quote, and the entire scholarly article linked above, says it all.

2024 Eclipse Cycle

The 2024 Eclipse Cycle begins with the Libra Full Moon in March, and concludes with the Libra New Moon in October. For many of us living in North America, the Spring Eclipse Season brings us a very special total solar eclipse, a rare treat. Keep in mind that solar eclipses happen twice a year, so although this one may be more personally relevant because we can see it, it is in keeping with the natural cycle.

Eclipse seasons happen at the opposite side of the zodiacal calendar, as illustrated in the Covina graphic above. Since our calendar is lunar, twice a year we start a new moon month on an eclipse.

Beyond the full Aries solar eclipse on April 8, another unique astrological event in 2024 is that there are two Capricorn Full Moon's during the summer, which results in an unusual third Libra eclipse.

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Blood Moon Rising" pt 5

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: shrinkyclinks, prison au, werewolf au, omega Steve, Alpha Bucky, dub-con, non-con, werewolf sex, knotting, oral (m!rec), hand jobs, held hostage, age gap (40/26), forced mating, violence, bonding, Dom/sub elements

Summary: Steve gets a lot more than he bargained for when a prison riot breaks out and he becomes the captive of an Alpha werewolf.

Author's Note: It got waaay too long for Tumblr, y'all. So this is not the last part

Wait! I haven't read a previous chapter! Fic Masterlist

Part 5 - "Blood Moon Horizon"

Well, the jig was finally up. 

Steve started showing signs of preheat on a Monday, and by Tuesday, everybody in the village knew. Wolves, Peter explained, could sense these things much, much better than humans could. (Apparently Bucky hadn’t been lying when he’d claimed that he could tell when Steve was ovulating.)

Steve was precisely one day away from his heat—something which was somehow both common and undisputed knowledge amongst the wolves.

Even Steve himself couldn’t have said for sure what day he would hit heat based on his preheat symptoms, but everybody all of a sudden started buzzing around, talking about how tomorrow would be the big day and beginning their preparations for the mating run and celebrations. 

Chatter also increased drastically, once word got around that there was going to be a “blood moon” the next night—something which the wolves held sacred. While rare, a total lunar eclipse meant absolutely nothing to Steve, but by now he’d learned that anything involving the moon’s cycle held great cultural and spiritual significance to the wolves. Apparently they viewed the blood moon as an omen of sorts, a rare occurrence symbolizing great change and rebirth; a time to resolve feuds, dump baggage, and cleanse the self. Steve didn’t think that boded well at all for him, but Peter seemed to find it very exciting.

“Holy shit, dude. Mated on the friggin’ blood moon?! That’s baddass!”

Bucky never came back to the cabin that night. And, sure as shit, the wolves were right: That next morning, Steve woke up in heat. 

“How’d they know?” he whined at Peter, trying to walk around the camp without noticing every single stare that was directed their way. The pack was deep in preparations for his and Bucky’s mating run that night. There was a big heap of wood being assembled in the nearby clearing for that night’s bonfire—apparently a major part of the tradition—and people were bustling about, setting up logs around the area for seating, decorating with foraged plants, stringing flowers and cooking food and brewing a massive amount of some kind of special werewolf cider. Steve eyed the humongous cauldron dubiously as he and Peter crossed the center of the camp. “Is it just a smell thing?”

“Yeah. And pheromones.”

“But that’s the same thing though, isn’t it?”

Peter tried to find a way to explain how it wasn’t the same thing, how pheromones came across to wolves as less of a scent and more of a sixth sense—something that sat right on the periphery of smell and sight and feel. He told Steve that it was like an ‘aura’. “I dunno how else to explain it, man. But it’s very obvious. You might as well have been wearing an ‘I’m about to go into heat’ teeshirt yesterday.”

Well, now he was in heat, and without the modern convenience of any sort of suppressant products, Steve was fully aware of the itch beneath his skin, the wetness between his legs, and the ever-growing ache that was building, deep and powerful, in his belly. He very sincerely missed his shitty shoebox of an apartment back in New York, where he had a very nice collection of both heat-soothing products and knotting dildoes that he could be using right about now. Instead he was stuck here in Hillbilly-town, USA; uncomfortable, horny as fuck, and suffering through every annoying symptom without recourse. 

Of course he had no way of masking any of this from the wolves. Steve had grown up not having to wonder if the 90% beta human population could smell him when he was in heat, and aside from it just being flat out embarrassing that everybody knew, this was also very bad news on a practical level, as now Steve stood virtually no chance of slipping away unnoticed, not when he was lit up like a damn Christmas tree of pheromones. He was so impotently angry at himself over it. He’d had months to try and get away, and now the jig was up. Steve was in heat, he was lit up like a pheromonal beacon to every single person in the pack, and he now had to face the disappointing truth: 

He’d waited too long.

He spent the morning skulking around the edges of camp with Peter by his side, impulsively considering running off into the forest multiple times, but discarding the thought each time it came up.

That wouldn’t work. He’d already been shown that it wouldn’t work, each time the wolves dragged him back to Bucky’s doorstep. And that was before he’d been in heat. Steve did his best to seem taciturn and unapproachable, not wanting to deal with the stares and attention of the people in the village. It was awkward as fuck. And he especially didn’t want to be around Bucky.

But that wasn’t something he had to worry about, because Bucky had pretty much been gone ever since Steve first realized he was in preheat, making himself scarce during the day and returning home to the cabin only once Steve was already asleep. He’d been leaving early each morning, too, before Steve woke. In fact, Steve wasn’t even sure if the Alpha had come back to sleep in the cabin at all last night.

He wasn’t gone though: Steve caught sight of him once or twice on the day of the mating run. The village alphas were holding more of their super-secret, alphas-only meetings, and Steve realized pretty quick that there was no way in hell he could eavesdrop anymore, as they knew right away when he was lurking nearby.

“Just go help put stuff together for the celebration,” Dum Dum scolded as he carried Steve away by the scruff and dumped him in the dirt outside the village’s omega yurt. “You’re not supposed to be around each other right now.”

“I need to talk to him!” 

“You can talk to him plenty tonight,” Dum Dum said meaningfully. “Look kid, it’s tradition, alright? Like the groom and bride not seeing each other. Just go in there and help with the preparations.”

Steve grunted indignantly as he stood up from the ground, brushing the dust off his clothes. “I’m not a kid, I’m twenty-six. And I’m not his bride. He kidnapped me. Why does everybody just gloss over that part like it doesn’t matter?!” 

“Because it doesn’t.” Dum Dum shook his head. “You’re a pill, kid. I don’t know why he wants you, but he does.” Steve glared at him, and Dum Dum narrowed his eyes. “Look, he’s a good man, just trying to do right by his people. He already has to deal with more shit than you know, keeping order in this pack. Don’t go makin’ it harder for him.”

Steve frowned. He knew by now that leadership was fought for amongst the wolves, sometimes brutally. It was hard won and hard kept. It depended on a complex combination of honor, biologically-coded dominance, and sheer brutality, which was why humans so often classified their packs as gangs. But it wasn’t the same. Steve could see that now.

Bucky was a good leader, and though he kept most things very close to the chest, he’d all but told Steve that there were continual challenges to his authority as Alpha. And other people in the pack had made it clear that Bucky being their Alpha was the best thing to happen to the pack in a long time. 

From the moment he’d stopped him from stabbing Batroc with a pencil back at the prison, Dum Dum had always looked at Steve like he was a problem, and that’s how he looked at him now, when Steve scoffed at his admonition not to make trouble for Bucky.

Sure, Steve didn’t want to be the reason a bunch of innocent people had their already-hard existence thrown into chaos, but he still didn’t deserve to be trapped here. His jaw worked in frustration as Dum Dum watched him, clearly waiting for an answer. “I’m just trying to get back to my life,” Steve huffed. “I mean what the heck else am I supposed to do?” 

“You’re supposed to be in there with your own kind, getting ready for the celebration.” Dum Dum pointed at the yurt, and Steve looked over his shoulder with a scowl.

“They’re not my kind. I’m omega, not a werewolf. And I’m not in this pack.”

“For now.”

“And I don’t want to celebrate.” Steve crossed his arms. “I’m not helping with arranging fucking flowers or whatever the hell they’re doing in there.”

“Then maybe talk to some of ‘em,” Dum Dum suggested, gesturing angrily at the yurt’s door. “Maybe you’ll make a friend. Or better yet, maybe they’ll knock some sense into you.” With that, he turned and left.

And so, Steve found himself inside the camp’s omega yurt: a place about which he’d known, but had steadfastly avoided going inside of until now. It was a big, round structure that served as a communal social space for the pack's adult omegas.

Inside, Steve was surprised to find dozens of cozy bean bag chairs and blankets for nesting. Unlike many of the pack cabins, the yurt had a polished wood floor and was fully modernized inside; with the center of the structure housing the nicest, biggest kitchen Steve had yet seen in the entire village, and the interior smelling richly of baked bread and omega bodies. Steve knew that the pack alphas and betas weren’t really supposed to come nosing around there, as it was considered a private, omega-only space. That was comforting, and on a day when not much else could make him feel safe, that kinda did. At least temporarily.

“Steve!”

“Oh is that him?”

“Yo!” 

“Wow, come grab a bag, man. Welcome!”

Over by the beanbag circle, a russet-colored wolf whom Steve recognized as Wanda lifted its head, whining as if in her own form of greeting before flopping back down to lie on the floor and enjoy the ambient heat from the nearby wood stove, just like any other lazy dog might do. Steve smiled despite himself.

He’d been avoiding this place, as he knew that all the other omegas would sit around like Wanda did and try to convince him to be happy with a life in the pack. But now that his fate was rapidly closing in on him, Steve knew he needed to learn as much as he could about what was going to happen that night. He went over to where Darcy was urging him to take up one of the beanbags, and plopped down as she began introducing him to the handful of pack omegas whom he’d seen around camp but never really met. 

“—and of course you know Hairy, over there,” she said at the end, kicking her foot in the air in Wanda’s direction. 

Beside the woodstove, the wolf briefly wagged its tail and chuffed.

“So then it is a wedding,” Steve concluded a while later, after they’d been talking about the upcoming mating run. He peeked around at the other wolves nearby. Wanda hadn’t moved an inch and looked like she was dozing, Nakia was in another of the beanbags, Darcy in another, and Thor’s mate Jane in the one next to that. Peter’s aunt May was over in the kitchen area, working on making a large sheet cake which Peter had already warned Steve would be very disappointing; and Scott—the only other male omega in the pack besides Peter—was loitering on the kitchen’s periphery, pretending to help with the baking while most of his energy went into trying to sneak tastes of the cake batter.

“I mean, the bonfire’s like the reception,” Steve ventured. “The run is kinda like the, um … the ceremony? I guess? And the bite is like the vow.” He made a face as he said it and rubbed his neck self-consciously, still terrified of the thought of Bucky chomping down on him like that. “And then we’ll be married,” he said quietly, thinking, fuck.

“Mated,” Nakia corrected from over on her beanbag, where she had the coffee table pulled up close as she worked on mixing up a bunch of things in bowls with a mortar and pestle. “Same idea. A bit more permanent, though.”

“And way more fun,” Darcy said with a dirty wink. 

She and Jane shared a titter over that, which Steve could only take to mean that they were talking about the sex-part that came at the end. He’d been told all about that, too (though honestly, he’d kind of already figured that there would be a sex-part, once he heard that they’d be doing this whole thing naked). “Yeah,” he said weakly. “ ‘Fun’. Right.”

“Jane got pupped up on the night of her mating run,” Darcy divulged, making Steve’s eyes widen at the thought of the same happening to him. “Maybe you will, too, Steve!”

“Here’s hoping not.” His eyes slid over to Jane, who was using her very pregnant belly as a worktop to thread flowers on a string. “I mean, um, no offense to you or anything.”

“None taken.” Jane looked peevishly over at Darcy. “We don’t know if it was that exact night.”

Jane, Steve had learned, was an unassuming and intelligent woman. She was very pretty and she seemed kind and pleasant to be around. But that wasn’t what intrigued Steve about her. Happily mated to Thor and heavily pregnant with their first baby, she was also one of only two pack members who’d been infected with lycanthropy rather than born with it. She’d lived with the pack for less than a year, was due to give birth soon, and—unlike Wanda—was choosing to remain in her human form for the event. Steve desperately wished he could talk to her alone and ask her all sorts of questions: why she was there, why she’d stayed and let them infect her and—

“Blegh! not me,” Darcy was proclaiming, telling Jane that she was a fool for choosing to deliver the baby in her human form rather than as a wolf. “You’re nuts. All that pain?” She shook her head. “Mark my words, you’re gonna regret it. And I’ll have to be the one there holding your hand while you’re poppin’ those pups out, letting you squeeze my bones until they’re popping out, too.”

Jane smiled privately and put a hand on her stomach. “I want to hold them when they come. I want them to hear my voice, feel my skin.”

“Nuts,” Darcy reiterated.

“Them?” Steve asked. “You’re having more than one?”

Jane smiled and nodded, while Darcy told him about how most omegas had “litters” rather than single babies; two or three pups at a time was considered normal, expected even.

Steve blanched. “But isn’t that … I mean, aren’t pregnancies like that considered high risk?” He looked over at Jane, slightly concerned. “Shouldn’t you guys have access to a hospital and doctors?” 

“We’ve got Bruce,” Darcy said.

“And it’s different with wolf pups,” Jane added. “The babies develop faster but come out smaller, and sturdier.”

Morbidly, it occurred to Steve to wonder if the babies came out in human form or wolf form. “So … you’re seriously not worried?”

Jane rubbed her belly serenely. “No. I’m excited.” Steve’s disquiet must’ve still been written on his face, however, because she looked him in the eye and tried to assure him, “You have to understand: birthing is much better tolerated amongst wolves. Much more natural. Complications are very rare.”

“Yeah, even in newbies like her,” Darcy teased, kicking over at the side of Jane’s beanbag. “Werewolf groupies.” Jane scoffed and tried to kick back at Darcy’s beanbag, but she failed and gave up due to how encumbered she was by her belly. 

Steve hadn’t missed how close the two women seemed to be. He’d been assuming they were just really good friends all this time, and that assumption persisted right up until the point when Jane asked Darcy when she was “going to stop being such a jerk to Thor and accept his affections already.” Steve squinted, confused for a split second because he thought Thor was the father of Jane’s baby …

“Thor’s been courting Darcy for half a year now,” Jane revealed. “But she’s been playing hard to get.” 

Steve was about to ask if there were two guys named Thor in the pack, until he abruptly remembered that the wolves practiced a form of polygamy, and he was encountering an instance of that right now. “I—oh.” He bit back the words he’d been about to say, looking over at Darcy instead, affronted. “You never mentioned you were with somebody.”

“Well I’m not! … Not technically. It’s only been a little while.” She shrugged and tried to play it off nonchalantly, but Steve could still see the hints of a blush on her face. “And anyway, I mean come on, it’s Thor.” She rolled her eyes. “He’s such a flirt. Big old oaf who thinks he’s God’s gift to women, leaves a couple 'a dead rabbits on your doorstep and thinks he's won your heart."

Steve made a face at the thought of animal carcasses as courting gifts. "What, roses were too old fashioned?" he muttered, eliciting a giggle from Jane and a huff from Darcy.

"I'm just saying: a peacock like Thor can stand to wait. He's probably never had to wait and wonder for longer than a day in his whole mighty life, until now.”

“A peacock whom you know you’re going to say yes to, eventually,” Jane needled, turning back to Steve with a sly look. “She thinks she’s playing hard to get. Thinks Thor’s too full of himself or something.”

“That wolf’s ego is far too big for his knot,” Darcy insisted. “I’m just bringing him down a peg. It’s character development. You should be thanking me.”

“For making my mate less insufferable? Or because I have you to look forward to as a sister wife?”

“Exactly.”

“Mark my words,” Aunt May called from over in the kitchen, waving her rubber spatula in the air. “We’ll be having another run within the next few months for you two.”

Jane and Nakia agreed, while Darcy scoffed and insisted that she intended to string Thor along for far longer than that. 

Meanwhile Steve was still sitting there, reeling at the stark reminder of how differently these people lived, with their tribal mindset and their polygamy and their weirdly primal traditions. He had to face the reality that he’d long been avoiding: That unless a miracle occurred and he suddenly somehow devised a workable escape plan before that very night, he’d soon be a mated omega, exposed to or infected with lycanthropy, and possibly even pregnant. 

The other women in the group talked excitedly about the upcoming night of celebrations, gabbing to Steve of what the traditions were and what he could expect. Everyone would gather for a big, blow-out party around the bonfire, then Steve would be sent off into the woods—naked, in heat, and with a headstart that was purely symbolic in nature. Then, after a short while, Bucky would shift and come after him, a predator tracking his prey in the night. 

Steve shuddered to think how pathetically easy it was going to be for Bucky. He’d sniff Steve out and chase him down, pounce on him, bite him, fuck him and knot him and mate him right out in the middle of the forest. 

“Doesn’t exactly seem fair,” Steve grumbled, “or comfortable.” It was October now, and though they’d travelled much farther south than where they’d started in New York, Steve still didn’t relish the thought of running butt-ass naked through the woods for any extended period of time. “I’ll freeze out there,” he complained. “And why do I have to be naked?”

“Mates usually run in fur,” Darcy said. “The omega starts in skin and shifts once they’re a ways out of sight—to make the chase harder.”

“Yeah, not exactly an option for me.” Like anything he could do would possibly make this a fair chase. He was doomed.

“Don’t worry,” Jane tried to console him, “I was human when I ran, too. Nudity is so normalized here, nobody bats an eye at you, I promise. And there are plenty of dens out in the forest where he can take you. That’s what Thor did for me. He even made it nice beforehand with all sorts of soft furs and stuff.” She smiled and looked down bashfully. “It was actually really sweet.”

“Dens?”

“Oh yeah. Mostly built into like, rocky outcroppings and stuff. There’s tons of places like that out there.”

Steve pursed his lips. “Yeah, I know.” He’d become well-acquainted with the forest’s inhospitable terrain—mostly during his unsuccessful nighttime escape attempts. 

“Those dens are mostly left over, right May? Like when they’d do whole pack runs in the old days?”

In the kitchen, May nodded after chasing Scott off from the icing bowl again. “Yep.”

“The whole pack?”

“Yeah,” Darcy supplied. “Like, not just two people. They’d all do it at once as a group. Any omega who wasn’t mated could run, and then whatever alpha caught you first was who bonded you.”

“What?!”

“This was all a long time ago,” May called over from the kitchen. “Ancient practice.”

“Not that ancient,” Darcy said. “My grandparents did it. ‘Course, back then there were a lot more omegas, and apparently most people went into season at the same time—I know, wild right? That’s why they’d just do it twice a year or whatever, when everybody was in heat. It was like this massive, huge event. Like, everybody looked forward to it and gossiped about it and made bets on it. All the Alphas would try to make secret deals with each other, and the omegas would try to figure out who’d be chasing them, how to get someone onto your scent without being too obvious, stuff like that—Like prom, for werewolves!” She laughed.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Steve said.

“Naw. My grandma told me about it. It was a whole thing back in those days. The alphas who had their sights set on someone would come up with all of these grand courting gestures, go out in the forest ahead of time and make dens to try and herd their favorite omega towards.” She shrugged and rolled her eyes. “But then things like consent came into fashion, so.”

“Don’t scare the boy,” May scolded. “He’s still new to all thi—Scott! Get your finger out of that bowl before I take it off!” 

“Jesus.” Steve supposed he should at least be grateful that it was only Bucky he had to worry about, rather than an entire pack of horny werewolves. He felt silly about the whole idea of the mating run. As if someone like him stood any real chance at evading Bucky. What a joke. “He’ll probably catch me in the first two minutes,” Steve mourned.

“Naw, you get a thirty-minute head start, remember?” Darcy smirked. “It’ll take him at least three minutes to catch up with you.”

Steve shot her a withering glare. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Don’t worry,” Nakia said. She was still diligently grinding with the mortar and pestle, and she gestured with it. “This will help disguise your scent. It will make for a better chase.” She smiled like that was something Steve should be excited about, and he did try to at least offer her a friendly nod back, aware that there were undoubtedly some massive cultural differences in play. 

Nakia wasn’t just a werewolf, she was also African—not African-American, mind you, but straight-up African—along with Okoye and M’Baku, and that freaking terrifying guy who’d done the executions at the prison: Killmonger. They all hailed from some tiny, impoverished country that Steve could vaguely remember having learned about in highschool, but he still hadn’t been able to figure out why the heck they were living with Bucky’s pack in the middle of the Appalachian mountains. When he’d asked Bucky and Okoye before, all they would say was that it was some sort of “outreach program.” 

(Not much of an outreach program when the whole pack was running fugitive from the law, though, now was it?)

Steve eyed up the substance that Nakia was grinding in the mortar. “What is it?” he asked dubiously. It smelled earthy and dank, but good; kind of like how fallen leaves smelled in the fall, once they accumulated on the ground and began to rot. If it smelled that strongly to him, what must it smell like to a wolf nose? Steve made a face as he considered it. “Is that … that’s stuff’s not going on me, is it?”

Nakia nodded sagely. “Special Wakandan recipe. Your wolf won’t catch you so easy with this. He will have to hunt.”

“... Great,” Steve said. “Thanks.” Really, he wasn’t so sure if he should bother with using the mystery paste. Would any attempt to evade Bucky at this point make a difference? Or would it just prolong the chase before the inevitable capture? 

Steve wasn’t looking forward to finding out.

Masterlist

If you liked what you read and feel so inclined, please consider dropping a tip in the Kofi🍵 cup. It's a big part of what allows me to take time to write. Thanks!

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Square O4: Alpha/Omega/Omega ship

[odinsblog]

ALICE RANDALL, on how she became a country music writer at the age of 23

Well, I decided to become a Black country songwriter and publisher. I was founding Midsummer Music because I was born in Detroit City in 1959, at the same year as Motown Records, and my father did not read books to me. He told me stories, and one of the stories he told me over and over was the founding of Anna Records that Barry Gordy's sisters had founded a year before Motown.

So he talked to me about women being song publishers and record company executives and songwriters, and I heard those stories and followed in Anna's footsteps.

On writing country melodies

I teasingly say that my melodies are so simple that when the ones I come up with, if I can sing them, the whole world can sing them, so it goes well for having hit sometimes. But I came to Nashville via Harvard in Washington, DC so I sort of took the skills that I learned analyzing the Harlem Renaissance poets and Shakespeare and Jane Austen, and I applied them to country lyrics. I love British metaphysical poetry and American metaphysical poetry, and it was alive and it was alive and hiding in country and western music, and I found it.

On race in the country music industry

The racial fault line in country is all around that theme of the past is better than the present. In much of white country, the past that is better than the present is a mythologized Dixie. In much of Black Country, the past that is better than the present, is a time in childhood where your parents were able, against all odds, to protect you, or a lost Africa before colonization that's manifest by nature.

On what makes a country song, country

Well, the equation is Celtic, that's English, Irish, Scottish ballot forms, plus African influences, plus evangelical Christianity equals country music. Don't have the Black influences, and you probably got folk music. Don't have the evangelical Christianity, and you may have blues.

It's emotional, and they're themes, the big themes of country, as far as I see it. Life is hard, God is real, the road, family, and liquor are significant compensations, and the past is better than the present.

On metaphors

Well, these lyrics, these really complicated lyrics such as, ‘Drop kick me, Jesus, through the goalpost of life,’ that's an extended metaphysical conceit. And you know what? On Beyoncé’s new album, Cowboy Carter, Bodyguard is another one of those extended, complex metaphors that we see all through country.

On Black women in country music

I feel actually a Juneteenth, which is good news at long last. Because I will be 65 May 4th, and I have been in country and western music for 41 years professionally.

When I arrived here in 1983, Charlie Pride had been to the number one spot 29 times. It was about to go up for another time. So many Black men have gotten to the number one spot.

I can't remember all their names, but literally not one Black woman performer had gotten there. There's a phrase I want to say, cultural redlining. Black women have been culturally redlined out of that.

They had not been given the economic resources to make the campaign to get there. And Beyoncé eclipsed all of that. And I can retire now with a joy that all three of the things I wanted to see, they got done.

One came in right at the last moment, wouldn't have gotten there without Queen B.

On representation and the first time she heard one of her songs performed by Adia Victoria, a Black woman

I cried. I cried. Just thinking back on it right now almost makes me cry again.

It changed the whole beginning of my book, because I knew I had to start with that moment. Over the years, I've been honored, and I tell the story. Glenn Campbell, Moe Bandy, Radney Foster, Tricia Yearwood, so many extraordinary stars had sung my songs.

But no one had ever looked like me had sung one of my songs. And more significantly, listeners thought all the heroes and sheroes in my songs were white, because the singers were white. And some of those heroes and sheroes, I had imagined them, all of them I had imagined as Black.

And I was willing and embraced people projecting their identities onto them, but I resisted the identities I had originally imagined and created being erased. And Adia Victoria added the color back to that cowboy. And 20 to 30% of all cowboys in the American West were Black and Brown, and they deserve to be remembered.

And if we don't remember them, we cannot properly encounter Cowboy Carter.

[miketownsends]

Have been wondering for a bit, since it flew completely off my radar for all of the time it was happening. What was/is Blaseball? Like I know from wikipedia that it was a baseball horror game (?) but it really gives no impression of like. What was it like, what was so special abt it?

blaseball was, at its core, a cosmic horror baseball simulator, with some kind of TTRPG-adjacent aspects. it’s… hard to describe. in so many ways it was something you needed to be there for. but i can try!

there were 24 (originally 20) teams, based in both real (Seattle, Tokyo, Boston, etc) and fake (Atlantis, Hellmouth, Hades) locations. seasons lasted a week. games played out every hour on the hour starting at 7:00am PST on Monday and running until 99 games had completed. games were played out under various weathers, such as Solar Eclipse and Feedback, that could impact the players or the game at random. the postseason played out on Friday evening and Saturday. election results occurred on Sunday.

elections were the big interactive portions of blaseball. throughout the week fans could bet in-game money on the outcomes of games. you could then use that money to buy votes. the votes were used to either vote on Decrees, which were rule/game changes (decided by popular vote) or to try to improve your team through Blessings or Wills (decided via raffle). these could do anything from buffing a player to stealing a player from another team to giving your entire team a specific blood type to killing off your least-idolized player and replacing them with a new one to… any other number of things. this forced a kind of collaborative community effort because teams would prioritize certain things and try to steer their fans toward putting their votes toward those things to increase the odds of their team getting picked in the raffle.

the community was the big thing about blaseball and it’s why it’s kind of hard to explain what it was really like now that it’s over. every blaseball player was just a name and a randomly generated collection of stats. the community gave every one of these players personalities and stories and lives. the teams had their own lore and “personalities” as well, kinda. different teams prioritized different things and had their own team culture. some teams were really stat-focused, some were really insular, some were more heavily into lore and narrative.

i think i will tell you the story of The Resurrection of Jaylen Hotdogfingers. i’ll try to keep it brief. (it will not be brief, i’m so sorry)

in season one, the Seattle Garages are not a very good team. their lone bright spot is their ace, 4-star pitcher Jaylen Hotdogfingers, who is the best pitcher in the league. (she is also mayor of Seattle.)

at the end of season one, the fans vote for the Decree to open the Forbidden Book. why? obviously, because it is Forbidden. (this is the first but not last time blaseball fans ran headfirst toward consequences just because they could.) this has several very immediate consequences, one of which was the incineration of Jaylen Hotdogfingers. this is the first ever incineration. it is permadeath. moving forward, any games played under the solar eclipse weather carry the risk of a player being randomly incinerated and replaced with a new, randomly generated player. the Garages lose a lot of players to incineration in the early seasons, which combined with Jaylen’s targeting give rise to a significant “fuck the gods” sentiment amongst the fans.

as per Garages lore, Jaylen’s final words before she was incinerated were “we’ve just gotta make it to the playoffs.”

seasons pass. the Garages are still bad but getting better, slowly. they win a couple pitching blessings, which helps a little. one of the other Garages pitchers is a guy named Mike Townsend. he’s… pretty bad. definitely no Jaylen. Mike gets unfairly scapegoated for the team’s struggles, to the point where there is a real actual real-life song called “Mike Townsend (Is A Disappointment)” written about him by Garages fans. (this starts The Garages the band, which now has like 20+ albums and hundreds of songs. they are on Spotify.)

going into season 6, a new site feature is introduced. fans can choose to idolize a player and then they can earn passive income whenever that player strikes someone out or hits a home run or whatever. cool! partway through the season, a player for the Boston Flowers, Caligula Lotus, is incinerated. Caligula is a popular player, and quite a few fans had her idolized. one of those fans noticed that, rather than having the option to now idolize a new player, they are still idolizing Caligula even after her death, which means they can still see her player page. prior to this, players who were incinerated were just… gone. no way to access them anymore.

the player goes to report the bug. they are informed that this is not a bug.

about 15 minutes later, someone from another team, the Canada Moist Talkers, comes into the Garages channel of the blaseball Discord. they drop a link to Jaylen’s player page with just the message “we know how to get her back.”

one of the Blessings that season was a Blessing called Lottery Pick. this would allow the winning team to steal the 14th most idolized player in the league. (the top 20 players are visible on an idol leaderboard.)

Jaylen’s page had a button that allowed her to be idolized.

all hell breaks loose in the Garages channels (and throughout the rest of the Discord as word gets out). the thought is this: with some coordination, Jaylen can be moved into the 14th spot on the leaderboard. this will, theoretically, allow the team who wins the Lottery Pick to steal Jaylen from… wherever she is. (her team is listed simply as “Null Team.”)

the Garages close their channels to visitors briefly to discuss amongst themselves whether or not they want to attempt this (the Garages mantra is “the Garage is always open,” so closing the channels is a huge deal). it’s a HUGE, fairly contentious, discussion. there’s, obviously, a million things that can go wrong. a different team could win the Lottery Pick. Jaylen could get bumped out of #14 last minute. no one knows if it’s even possible to steal a dead player (and if it is, there will DEFINITELY be consequences). other teams are interested in potentially resurrecting former players, too, but the overarching league-wide sentiment is “first in, first out” - if the Garages decide they want to try and get Jaylen back, they get first crack at it, so the Garages HAVE to come to a decision.

no matter what, SOMEONE is going to push the button. Jaylen has, by this point, already made her way onto the leaderboard. the Garages fans decide “well, someone’s committing necromancy; might as well be us.” they inform the league they’re going for it and everyone starts strategizing to hold Jaylen at #14. some fans of other teams switch teams temporarily to the Garages just to put votes into the Lottery Pick blessing in order to increase the Garages’ chances of winning.

meanwhile, the Garages (the blaseball team)? actually having a pretty good season for once! they manage to make it into the playoffs for the first time (“we’ve just gotta make it to the playoffs”). they sweep the Philly Pies (two-time champions) and the Hades Tigers (two-time champions) to make it to the Internet Series (where they are then swept by the Baltimore Crabs, but that’s okay).

fan sentiment on Mike Townsend has also shifted by this point. he’s still not very good but he’s become beloved. fans mostly find his terrible pitching kind of endearing. there is a new song about him called “Mike Townsend (Is A Credit to the Team).” the song contains the line “your redemption arc is coming up.”

the morning of the elections comes. Jaylen is still firmly at #14 on the leaderboard. all anyone can do is wait for the results.

the Garages win the Lottery Pick, with 58% of the vote.

Jaylen returns to the Garages. as was the case with other similar Blessings which stole a player from elsewhere in the League, Jaylen replaces the worst player on the team for her position (pitcher).

the Garages’ worst pitcher is Mike Townsend.

usually, in a situation where a player is stolen from an active team, it would just be a player swap. however, Null Team is not an active team and Mike cannot be sent there, so instead, Mike is sent to the Shadows. at this point, the Shadows are a mostly-unknown and inaccessible site feature. he’s not DEAD, but he’s no longer on the Garages’ active roster. within an hour there is a song called “Mike Townsend (Knows What He’s Gotta Do)” about Mike getting Jaylen back for the team.

his redemption arc.

Jaylen’s return gives her a status called “Debted” that simply says “this player must fulfill a Debt.” no one knows what it means. probably it will be bad (it is). in the moment, it doesn’t matter. Jaylen is safe. she’s home. it’s a victory against the gods, against the Peanut. (the Peanut is a whole other story.)

this is not even close to the end of Jaylen’s story, or Mike’s, but this is more than long enough. and this is just one story - a big one, since it had a wider impact on the narrative, but every team had hundreds of stories like this. about big things, about small things. they took a random number generator and spun it into an infinite amount of stories. they made narratives out of spreadsheets.

it really, truly sucks that it’s gone.

[bluegamercatlady]

Sonic Headcanons 9

Professor Gerald and Black Doom never gave Shadow "the talk", so Shadow doesn't know how babies are made. They likely both thought that he would never have a romantic relationship and he is most likely sterile.

Knuckles also doesn't know how babies are made, but at some point, when Rouge was on Angel Island on somewhat peaceful terms, he asked her out of curiosity. His muzzle went the same colour as his red fur from blushing when she answered his question, quite bluntly and in detail actually. Rouge found Knuckles’ reaction hilarious and adorable.

Because Shadow grew up alongside Maria, she used to invite him to sleep in her bed. When Shadow came to live on Earth and regained a few of his memories (he might not even have his memories when this occurred. Possibly an instinctual habit), he didn't realise that people don't just get into bed with each other, as that's what he did with Maria. It made sleepovers with friends very confusing for Shadow and awkward for everyone else.

(Spoilers for the murder of sonic the hedgehog) After the events of Amy's birthday on the Mirage Express, Amy and Shadow went to the Hot Honey concert together and Shadow actually kinda enjoyed it. Amy began introducing him to different bands and artists she likes and they both bond over them.

While most Mobian species are diurnal (Meaning they are awake during the day), all Mobians have Tapetum Lucidum in their eyes, which means they have reflective eyes that makes it easier for them to see in the dark. It’s probably not as noticeable as regular animals’ reflective eyes.

Shadow is probably a clean freak due to growing up around Maria and everything needing to be sanitary because of her disease and how weakened her immune system was. His home is stocked with multiple cleaning chemicals, detergents and equipment. It’s all lavender scented.

Both Knuckles and Shadow are touch starved. Surprisingly, Knuckles is a little more repressed than Shadow when it comes to hugs. This might be due to Knuckles growing up in isolation and Shadow having a close affectionate sibling bond with Maria. Shadow isn’t as uptight about hugs as you would necessarily think.

That’s the reason why Shadow is so relaxed about Amy hugging him in Sonic Adventure 2. It likely reminded him of Maria.

Amy is a practicing witch, specifically a kitchen witch. She uses Tarot cards, which is a type of Divination and can sense Sonic without actually seeing him with some kind of ESP. She loves baking (Which is why I thought a kitchen witch, made most sense) and probably makes delicious edible potions and spells, especially love potions.

(Adopted headcanon from BRaN, @be_random_now Hands & Feel comic on Twitter) Gloves are like underwear in most Mobian cultures worldwide and not wearing gloves in public is similar to the human is equivalent of being naked in public, though not quite the same. Showing your bare hands is a special and intimate privilege only for close friends, family and significant other halves.

 (Sonic Adventure 2 spoilers) The reason Shadow fell to his 'death' in Sonic Adventure 2 is partly due to his inexperience using the Chaos Emeralds to go super, as well as running out of energy without his inhibitor rings to moderate how much energy he outputs.

 (Sonic Adventure 2 spoilers) Sonic and Shadow fixed the moon in Sonic Adventure 2 when they chaos controlled the Ark back. It reset the moon back to before it was half destroyed by the Eclipse cannon. Basically, it's as if it was never destroyed in the first place.

 Sonic has stacks and stacks of photo albums piled up at Tails' house. They document most of his adventures and time he spent hanging out with his friends. Sonic puts a little description and the date he took the photo next to the images, so he can reminisce when he visits Tails' home. Tails regularly prints out photos that Sonic took on his phone camera.

[thesumeriancontrarian]

Divination in Mesopotamia was a highly sophisticated and essential practice, deeply embedded in the religious and cultural framework of the society. It was the primary method by which people sought to understand the will of the gods, predict future events, and navigate the uncertainties of life. Mesopotamian diviners, known as baru, were specialized in interpreting signs from the gods, and their role was critical in both personal and state decisions. One of the most important forms of divination in Mesopotamia was celestial divination. The Mesopotamians believed that the gods communicated through the heavens, particularly via the movements of celestial bodies such as the sun, moon, and stars. The extensive text Enuma Anu Enlil, which recorded thousands of celestial omens, was used as a guide for interpreting these signs. For instance, the phases of the moon were meticulously studied to understand whether a particular period was favorable or if it foreshadowed disaster. Eclipses, in particular, were viewed as ominous, often indicating a pending threat to the king or the nation. Celestial divination formed the basis of what would later evolve into the astrological traditions of other civilizations. Terrestrial divination also played a crucial role in Mesopotamian society. This form of divination involved interpreting signs from natural occurrences on earth, such as the behavior of animals, dreams, or even the patterns found in the entrails of sacrificed animals, particularly the liver. The liver was considered the seat of life and was believed to be a mirror of the cosmos. Diviners would examine its structure and interpret any irregularities or markings as divine messages. This practice, known as hepatoscopy, was used to gain insight into both personal matters and broader state affairs, such as the outcome of a battle or the future of a ruler. Another significant divination method was extispicy, the examination of the internal organs of sacrificed animals. The detailed analysis of these organs, especially the liver and lungs, helped diviners interpret the gods' will. Each part of the organ was associated with a specific deity or realm of life, and any abnormality or deviation from the norm was considered a direct message from the divine. For example, a blemish in a particular section of the liver might signify that a military campaign would fail or that a ruler’s health was in jeopardy. Divination was also conducted through omens, which were spontaneous events or occurrences that were seen as direct messages from the gods. Omens could come in many forms, such as the birth of a deformed animal, an unusual natural phenomenon, or even the way smoke rose from a fire. Diviners compiled extensive lists of these omens and their interpretations, which served as a reference for understanding the gods’ favor or displeasure. These omen lists were not static but evolved over time, reflecting the society’s shifting concerns and experiences. Dreams were another vital source of divinatory knowledge in Mesopotamia. It was believed that the gods or spirits communicated directly with humans through dreams, providing guidance or warnings. Dream interpretation was a specialized skill, and diviners would analyze the content, symbols, and emotions present in a dream to provide insight into the dreamer's future. This form of divination was often personal, but it could also have political implications, especially when kings or high officials experienced significant dreams.

[rachellaurengray]

The Solar Eclipse Significance and 10 Fascinating Facts

As we eagerly anticipate the upcoming solar eclipse on April 8th, 2024, let's unravel the mystique surrounding this celestial event. Here's a deeper look into its significance, along with 10 captivating facts to pique your interest:

1. Rare Celestial Alignment: Solar eclipses occur when the moon passes between the Earth and the sun, casting a shadow on the Earth's surface. However, not all solar eclipses are total; some are partial or annular, depending on the alignment of the celestial bodies.

2. Path of Totality: The path of totality refers to the narrow strip on Earth's surface where the total eclipse is visible. Outside this path, observers witness a partial eclipse.

3. Duration of Totality: Totality, the phase when the sun is completely obscured by the moon, can last for a few seconds to a maximum of about 7.5 minutes, depending on various factors such as the distance between the Earth and the moon.

4. Impact on Wildlife: During a solar eclipse, animals may exhibit unusual behavior, such as birds returning to their nests and nocturnal animals becoming active, as they respond to the sudden darkness.

5. Historical Significance: Solar eclipses have played a significant role in history, often being interpreted as omens or signs of impending events. They have been recorded in ancient civilizations' texts and have influenced cultural beliefs and rituals.

6. Scientific Research Opportunity: Solar eclipses provide scientists with valuable opportunities to study the sun's corona, the outermost layer of the sun's atmosphere, which is normally obscured by the sun's intense brightness.

7. Eye Safety Precautions: Observing a solar eclipse directly without proper eye protection can cause permanent eye damage. Special eclipse glasses or solar filters must be used to safely view the event.

8. Eclipse Chasers: Some enthusiasts, known as eclipse chasers, travel around the world to witness solar eclipses in different locations. They meticulously plan their trips to coincide with the path of totality for an optimal viewing experience.

9. Historical Records: The earliest known recording of a solar eclipse dates back to ancient China in 2134 BCE. Since then, solar eclipses have been documented by various civilizations, contributing to our understanding of celestial phenomena.

10. Global Impact: Solar eclipses capture the attention of people worldwide, transcending geographical and cultural boundaries. They serve as reminders of the awe-inspiring wonders of the universe and inspire curiosity and fascination among individuals of all ages.

As we prepare to witness the solar eclipse, let's marvel and reflect on the profound significance of this extraordinary event.

[playgirlnaeemah]

Why New York Fashion Week is Far From Dead

In an ever-evolving world of fashion, NYFW will, in my opinion, continue to be a cornerstone of the industry. I find NYFW as far from dead, despite some conversations I’ve had that its relevance is decreasing. Based on my own experience, here's why:

NYFW is still *the* starting point for aspiring as well as seasoned designers. It features cutting-edge collections that challenge conventional wisdom every season. The Parsons exhibition never ceases to astound me. Every year, their showcase of up-and-coming designers serves as a major source of inspiration for me since it embodies unwavering commitment and passion for the art of designing.

Since its beginning, the event has seen tremendous change. Immersion experiences are now the major highlight; in a way runway shows are no longer the only thing. NYFW has embraced digital revolution, showcasing anything from virtual reality presentations to live-streamed shows. Shows these days, it seems to me, frequently adopt a more abstract approach, with prominent designers showcasing their work in exhibition-style configurations.

Some claim that the prominence of NYFW may be eclipsed by local models/influencers as a result of the growth of social media and internet platforms. But elitism in the fashion industry is nothing new. NYFW is a crucial chance for designers to land future contracts and partnerships because it continues to draw buyers, editors, and the not so liked influencers (in a way I don’t think it’s that influencers are the bad guys, who we deem celebrities forever have been terrible people, I think the admiration we hold for influencers has to be revised, having role models you personal do not know is redundant but back to the topic). It continues to have a significant influence on the cultural and economic environment of the fashion industry.

NYFW is a cultural phenomenon rather than merely a fashion event. It tackles societal issues, commemorates cultural achievements, and both reflects and defines the zeitgeist. This cultural significance guarantees that NYFW will always play a significant role in the larger discussion about identity, society, and the arts.

I’m attaching a few photos of some shows I went to as well as some of my favorite looks from this season

Parsons: Look 16

WHO DECIDES WAR

ZOE GUSTAVIA ANNA WHALEN

RIO

LAUR

[minnesota-flag-tournament]

I get so sad all the Nordic Cross designs get passed up on both these polls and the officially chosen six. I know, we all care about the loons, too, but for context Minnesota has the highest density of Scandinavian immigrants in the US and our culture is very based on that (ie lutefisk, our accent, even the way our houses are built). I think not enough people understand that in the voting process and it makes me sads ;-;

Oh nooo I’m sorry I see where you’re coming from. There’s a lot of context behind many of these designs that people might not understand, especially at first glance. The same thing has been happening with flags including indigenous symbols that people look past without understanding the significance. There are a lot of more casual voters who don’t take it too seriously and just click whichever design they like more at first glance instead of trying to understand cultural significance or nuance, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but I can see how you feel like that winds up eclipsing your opinions

I’d like to give more context on some of them but you guys add context in reblogs which works pretty well at spreading info around without making differences between the format or anything of the polls

[whoreviewswho]

Nothing's just rubbish if you have an enquiring mind - Paradise Towers, 1987

At the time of writing, it is impossible to refute that the production history of Doctor Who in the 1980s is incredibly, thoroughly documented. Recently, I saw a video floating around fandom on Twitter from the now current production team being disparaging and critical toward the mid-80s period of the show. None of the talking points that came out of this were anything new but it did highlight, for me, the biggest problem of this era by way of how much it was not discussed. Mid-80s Doctor Who was bad. Mid-80s Doctor Who was also made exclusively for the fans. I think that fans feel, to this day, somewhat uncomfortable addressing this fact. After all, they are a significant and vocal subset of the programme’s audience and the ones who imbue themselves, or in the mid-80s were imbued by the production team proper, with a sense of ownership and understanding of the show that eclipses everybody else’s. We know how Doctor Who works because we’ve seen it all, we know it inside out. If it isn’t working for us, it must not be working.

Of course it goes without saying that this is completely tosh. Doctor Who did and does not exist solely for Doctor Who fans. It doesn’t even exist primarily for them. Doctor Who is a programme produced by a public broadcaster in Britain as part of their remit to inform, educate and entertain. No matter how much Russell T Davies and the BBC at large would prefer one to believe otherwise. At any rate, a programme with that comfortably met the BBC’s mission statement and was appealing across demographics of the British public was not the one they John Nathan-Turner had been producing for, arguably, four years at this point. 

But this was, thankfully, to change thanks to A. the appointment of Andrew Cartmel in the role of script-editor and B. the enormous falling out between Eric Saward and JNT leading to the latter refusing to hire any old hands that would have previously worked with them as a duo. Incredibly, this decision led to an enormous uptick in quality for the next three years. Wild. One of the first writers that JNT sought after for season twenty-four was Stephen Wyatt, a promising new talent at the BBC in late 1986. Following the hiring of Andrew Cartmel as script-editor, in early 1987, JNT arranged a meeting between the two writers where they got to discussing their mutual admiration for the works of J. G. Ballard. The pair began to construct the basic plot that would become Paradise Towers with Wyatt taking particular inspiration from his own experiences frequenting council housing in London's East End.

Season twenty-four, and really beginning with Paradise Towers, would mark a significant shift in the style and tone of Doctor Who from previous years. Cartmel and his team of writers were heavily inspired by contemporary comics, specifically the series 2000AD and the works of its writers such as Alan Moore, Grant Morrison, Dave Gibbons, Pat Mills and John Wagner. The second major change Cartmel employed, however, was a distinct turn back toward Doctor Who's cultural role as key viewing for British families. Regaining the general audience, and by that I mean adult non-fans watching the BBC, is one thing (and arguably the much easier one) but the task of reframing Doctor Who as an important programme for children was surely the more mammoth and, I would argue, necessary effort. Let’s not kid ourselves, where would the older fans come from if not childhood passion for the show? This is really the sole reason why fandom can never be trusted for knowing what makes for good Doctor Who on television since the answer invariably returns to “the ones that are like what I watched as a kid”. I don’t mean to spend any more time ragging on the latter half of the Eric Saward era than I have to but fully appreciating Paradise Towers simply has to go hand-in-hand with the acknowledgement that seasons twenty-one through three were playing to an older audience than Doctor Who was ever designed for. Yes, it was conceived as a programme to bridge audiences between two programmes that were targeted at older and younger demographics and Philip Hinchcliffe was correct in refuting claims that his version of the show needed to be watered down by arguing that it’s not made the children’s department; it’s made by the drama department. 

BUT this line of thinking was part of a wider rationale and objective for the show to introduce children and families to mature concepts and themes through the lens of a science-fantasy adventure serial. That’s what Doctor Who does best. The violent thrillers being told about video nasties and psychotic mercenaries being chopped up by cyborgs don’t cut it as family entertainment, even if they were really good. Paradise Towers is the Cartmel era at its most children's television. This is no way a discredit and certainly not something that disappears after this season; the balance simply becomes more nuanced. Despite its reappraisal over the years, I would find it would be hard to object to any adult viewer now whose opinion is simply that this was a bit too children's TV for their sensibilities but I think that this was still the right move. Even if this did swing too far into the realm of pure children's entertainment, Doctor Who had been so far away from that realm for so long at this point that an aggressive swing the other way was necessary. The show needed to even the scales before we could move back toward something a bit more overtly mature. Paradise Towers carries sense of a new era really beginning to fall into place (Time and the Rani is really a hangover from the Colin Baker era) but it's not quite there yet. It is similar in that way to a story like The Beast Below, for example.

With that family audience in mind, it is no surprise that the basic story of Paradise Towers is incredibly easy to get your head around; a dilapidated housing complex, that was designed by an evil mind who thinks his work is ruined by having people actually live in it, is out to kill the inhabitants. The foundational elements of this story, however, and the broader socio-political context is incredibly dense and opens itself up to thoughtful conversation about modernist architecture as an extension of urban renewal. Paradise Towers is, quite blatantly, a council estate, a place where all of the children and elderly were shunted into while the able-bodied were sent off to war. Contextualising the story in real-world history of Britain, we know that this is not what was really happened. What was actually happening under Thatcher's government, and buy no means ended with her, wax urban renewal of low socio-economic areas that largely neglected the people who actually lived there, redeveloping these parts pop England to be glimmering examples of perfect modernist architecture. Whether they were homes for those who needed them or not was a less important concern. In the case of Kroagnon here, the triumph of having built something is more important than it actually being put to use; "The whole place is polluted with flesh". And, of course, the more intellectual members of the audience would be quick to realise that Paradise Towers is obviously riffing on High-Rise. None of these things matter to a six year old though. What matters to six year olds is that the bad guys follow orders from a monstrous entity that prioritises a product and an aesthetic over living people. And, perhaps even more importantly, those same guys are just as capable of realising this is wrong and joining the good guys if they know that they should. The takeaway from this parable is as simple as 'Everybody should work together to take out the common enemy'. Which, in this case, is an actually life-threatening entity that is abusing, and symptomatic of, a larger system.

While Nicholas Mallet would never be my first choice for all-time best Doctor Who director, he does some very admirable work in this serial. Right form the off, there is a great juxtaposition between the devastated horror of the towers and a Yellow Kang being hunted and killed with the stark, shiny retro-futurism of the Doctor and Mel's, themselves an extension of those aristocratic adventurers of Victorian fiction, absorbing their bright and chipper tourist material. That being said, I love the Doctor's immediate resistance to the advertising material. The beginnings of Cartmel's interpretation of the Doctor as a scruffy defender of the lower classes are immediately apparent in this story.

The Kangs themselves are an incredibly simple realisation of what is unambiguously a political idea; they are the children neglected by the system who grew up to be warriors and hunters, just like the Rezzies did though in a much less malicious fashion as children would. It is a very dark idea but all of it is extremely pllatable for families. Speaking of the Rezzies, Tilda and Tabby are easily the most hilarious aspect of this story as an adult but they would surely be quite genuinely frightening for kids. When you are a child, there is something deeply unsettling and unnerving about the elderly. Their existence is so far beyond your scope of understanding that they are really quite alien and ripe for scares. Mel's kidnapping in episodes two and three is actually very unsettling considering the limitations on play here. For the adults, residents of the dilapidated towers descending into cannibalism is either going to come off as hilariously silly or the least apologetic Ballard rip in the whole serial. For those who really love this, it is obviously both. Tabby hilariously layering cream on Mel's biscuit is probably my favourite moment of comedy in the whole story.You can see the influence this era and this story specifically must have had on Russell T Davies' conception of Doctor Who. Gridlock and Dot and Bubble have far more in common with the stories of season twenty-four than any other in the show's history.

The 2000 AD influences are really all over this production. The aesthetic of this world and the specific socio-political subtext feel perfectly in-step with any of that house's publications. For all the Kangs' dialogue, their use of language, is silly and naff on-screen, it would be incredibly easy to dismiss on the written page. Is this especially different from, say, the language of the Mutants in The Dark Knight Returns? It is no surprise that this particular story inspired its own independent comic-book series later down the line.

But, that being said, the biggest problem here is the actual production which is, frankly, overextending its reach Ince again. Everybody involved is trying very hard to sell the story but this production team is not up to the task of realising Wyatt's world (Richard Briers is probably the sole exception to the claim that everybody here is trying their best to realise this material. Granted, his performance is well within the remit of children's TV villain but not in the right way). The sets are quite good though the lighting does ether cheapness no favours. The Happiness Patrol, for example, improves on this. Take the lighting in episode three's interrogation scene. The idea is there but it doesn't quite work. The cleaning robots are bloody terrible too. A redesign could have gone a long way to saving them. The legs hanging out the back are great but they're just not scary at all despite how great they are on paper. Pex is probably the biggest victim of this production not working. great character and Howard Cooke gives his all in it but he is simply the wrong casting choice for this. With that comic-book influence in mind, it is easy to see how Pex was intended too operate as this headstrong, hyper-masculine parody of the typical superhero/comic book action hero. Again, imagine him on paper being drawn like The Punisher or Judge Dread. The scrawny Howard Cooke is not the actor to convincingly sell this. I'm not entirely sure that this idea actually lends itself to the story being told. Pex is perfectly suited to the aesthetic of Paradise Towers, the tone is on point but this quite angry story about a very specific cultural context seems at odds with Pex's little story about being a deserter from war that tries to play as a superhero but is naturally ill-suited to it. It's very endearing but just its own little thing in this world rather than part of a greater thematic whole.

In his second story, Sylvester McCoy is great but, again, is plagued by that affect of being not-quite there. The script characterise shim well enough though somewhat generic and the matter is not helped but his performance still being in its infancy. It's not all pratfalls and mixed metaphors as some would lead you to believe but the multitudes that came to define the Seventh Doctor are certainly not here yet. Just like watching him parade around with a not quite right umbrella, the shape of it is there but the full definition isn't. The Doctor has so many excellent moments in this story. His outwitting the Caretakers by simply weaponising authoritarianism to suit his agenda. It's a very simple and somewhat obvious little scene but it perfectly illustrates the idiocy of blindly following inane orders; "Rules should always make sense". The shifting seats in the interrogation is also a lovely bit of theatrical play and there is a surprising glimmer of darkness when Pex volunteers for the mission that will kill him in episode four, as if the Doctor knew things were always going to play out that way. He doesn't even try to stop him from tackling Kroagnon and being blown up.

Then there's Mel. Mel sits awkwardly in this story. The world of a decaying, children's television dystopia is not an inappropriate place for a character such as Mel, who is already really just a kid's TV idea of 'the smart and plucky girl one", to inhabit. Bonnie Langford commits herself admirably but, in contrast to the Doctor, her presence is not much of a disruption to the narrative and the character is so thinly drawn that any attempt at thematic or subtextual threads to be drawn between her and the events of the story are so thin as to be entirely non-existent. Langford and McCoy play off of each other well enough but it is nevertheless painfully apparent that her character was conceived to play off of Colin Baker's Doctor and a lot of her role as a foil is nullified by the stark difference between their respective characterisations of the Doctor.

When I first saw Paradise Towers, I really did not take to it. Likely it was my previous conceptions of the Cartmel era as a fan, misconceptions that were likely informed by the impact of the New Adventures novels in fandom, that blinded me to how much good really is in here. The Cartmel era is not hard-edged science-fiction for mature audiences and Doctor Who fans. Like the best offerings of this programme have always been, the Cartmel era, and Paradise Towers, is an idiosyncratic little show for families that's punching above its weight.