#ethics classes

[elleselanguitsansfin]

it's hailing today and the gloom outside is casting peculiar shadows around my room...

[stardew-bajablast]

if you haven’t at least tried sewing or crocheting or knitting your own clothes, you really should. even if it’s just one time and you never do it again, i really think everyone should do it at least once

learning how to crochet was what finally made me grasp the abject horror of the fast fashion industry and realize just how laborious and time consuming it is. i have to take a few days off a week so my back/wrists don’t get sore — and i get to do this as a leisure activity in the comfort of my own home, rather than in a sweatshop. it takes dozens of hours to produce a single item. there is just something about trying it yourself that makes you realize just how little the people making our clothes are being paid for retailers to be able to sell clothes at such obscenely low prices.

i understood in the abstract that people were earning literal slave wages to make my clothes, but that concept wasn’t real to me in a way i could understand until i spent 14 hours making something that i myself wouldn’t have even been willing to pay more than $10-20 for if i saw it in a store.

i have not bought any new clothes since learning how to crochet. every time i see clothes at a store (especially obviously handmade items like crochet), and i look at the price tag i feel genuinely sick to my stomach.

i’m not saying everyone needs to make their own clothes in order to be against fast fashion, but what i am saying is if hearing about the conditions and wages secondhand has not been enough to make you stop buying it, if you find yourself becoming desensitized to the suffering of the people who make your things, you should try making something yourself.

you need to see firsthand how physically and mentally demanding it can be and imagine how much worse it would be if you were forced to sit in a sweatshop for 16 hours a day doing it nonstop, earning pennies an hour to do so. you need to spend weeks laboring over something only for it to turn out looking like shit so you realize just how much wisdom and technical skill goes into these supposedly “unskilled” and undervalued jobs. if the abstract concept isn’t enough to get through to you, then you need to get hands on.

[ffcrazy15]

There's this way of doing female-ness in Christianity that I call "pastel flower journal Christianity." I've got nothing against pastel flower journals per se, but for some reason people believe it's the end all and be all of female spirituality, and I think it's a real disservice towards young Christian women.

One of these days I'd like to start a prayer-and-reading group or something for young women, but there would be no floral themes or over-focus on how "God thinks you're beautiful even if the world doesn't" (a true statement, but it's wayyyyy too often the focus in women's spiritual reading). Instead we would be reading:

Seneca's Letters from a Stoic

Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning

Sheed's A Map of Life

Portions of Pieper's book on leisure

Kreeft's Three Philosophies of Life

Guardini's The Lord (or something similar)

Therese's Story of a Soul

and some select portions of the Nicomachean Ethics.

(Also they're all getting the porn talk. I don't know why we give the porn talk to young men but not young women. There's this idea that women don't use porn and they only need the talk about "guarding their heart." Bullshit. There's porn on the YA shelves of Barnes and Nobles and before that there were bodice rippers. Young women need the porn talk too.)

Every young woman needs to be getting a basic grounding in virtue ethics, logic, natural law, scholastic philosophy and Biblical hermeneutics if they're going to get by in today's spiritual landscape. Enough faffery and emotionalism in young women's spiritual education! Give them real food to chew on, not pasty sentimentalism!

[queerism1969]

[berlingyatchaser]

Wow so inspirational🥹💸🧚‍♀️💫

[nando161mando]

[calling-the-angels]

I was reading an article from CNN about journalists in Gaza (link) and this particular paragraph stuck out to me...

I was initially a journalism major in college so I understand the background of why an organization like CNN would require this style of reporting (i.e. "both sides" representism). However, these inserts of Isreali "viewpoints" that have been shown to be barefaced lies in an article about Gazan journalists risking their lives is just piss-poor optics.

If anyone wonders why people have lost faith in traditional media sources, this is a perfect example. In an article centering Palestinian voices, the organization still requires that Israeli talking points be linked as well and often, in the same paragraph. It reads like: 'here's a quote about a personal lived experience of genocide but nah uh, here's isreali propaganda claiming they are lying and bc they are an ally, they should be believed'. It's American/Western exceptionalism at its finest because "why should we believe a Palestinian, they aren't paragons of truth and justice like we are?"

I don't know if I quite explained myself like I wanted but this particular article just made me so angry that CNN and other Western media were once considered 'trustworthy' sources of information and now are parroting isreali lies. AND telling their readers that Palestinian voices on the ground telling first-hand information are not "good enough" sources of information.

[u3pxx]

slaying philosophy call that serving kant

[hashileio]

you join the cafe & meet the crew (minus one)

[marielism]

inhale, exhale

[sentienttoast]

quick question I missed the last class of school the other day for totally based and real reasons but the teachers would not accept them as valid. I've just gotten an email saying that I now have detention. is it ethical to go on rip.ie and find a person that has a funeral at that time and say that I was there because they were my mum's dear friend. or nah

[shalomniscient]

hello! can i request some ruan mei filth with sub reader 🤭🤭

ask and ye shall recieve 🫡🫡 sorry this took a while, i'm personally used to imagining ruan mei as a power bottom, so writing her as a dom took a little longer to cook LOL

good god, let me give you my life || ruan mei x reader [NSFT][MDNI]

cw. vibrators, fingering, praise, mild bondage

notes. sev try not to name fics after take me to church lyrics challenge (impossible) also sorry again anon this turned more introspective than my filth normally gets.....................

On a lonely planet at the edge of the universe, Ruan Mei gazes down on you like a goddess. Your hands are bound above your head, clasped together as if in prayer as pleasure creeps like vines up and down your body. This bed is the altar, you the sacrifice. You wouldn't have it any other way, especially when Ruan Mei ups the intensity of the vibrator between your legs, causing you to arch your back with a breathless gasp.

"Sweet thing," she murmurs, her voice drifting like leaves in the wind, "look at you."

Her finger trails up and along the left side of your body, from the bone of your hip, higher and higher until she reaches the curve of your breast. Her hand lingers there for a moment, warm against your left rib, before she cups your breast, swiping a thumb over your stiff bud. You whine at her touch, trying to chase the sensation, squirming against your bindings.

"Please," you whisper. "Please, please, I need you—"

Ruan Mei coos gently at your begging, her other hand coming to brush the hair out of your eyes. When you look up at her, desperate, with those lovely, teary, pleading eyes, how could she ever deny you?

You cry out her name as her hand slips lower and she pushes the buzzing toy just a little deeper into your slick cunt. It nudges against that spot inside you, and your thighs snap shut around her hand as explosions burst behind your eyelids, a big bang breathed to life by a loving god. Ruan Mei's gentle praises are echoing, distant as you float on that cosmic high.

When you finally come back down, Ruan Mei has shut off the toy and tenderly withdraws it from your sensitive cunt. It comes away with a wet, slick noise and you shiver at the sensation, your leg kicking out reflexively at the overstimulation. Ruan Mei squeezes your thigh in consolation, then lies down next to you, undoing the bindings on your wrists.

"Are you alright?" she asks softly, and you nod, your tongue feeling too heavy to form words. Instead you nuzzle close to her, your arms winding around her waist as your breath begins to even out again.

It’s moments like these, the quiet afterglow, that Ruan Mei wonders why you’re here—with her, at the edge of the universe. It is not an insecurity; no, Ruan Mei does not doubt that you love her. She does not need to test for that. She knows it, innately, intrinsically. But it is a sort of… morbid curiousity, in a sense.

One day, she will leave you—become something beyond comprehension, beyond your reach. Possibly, she’d forget you entirely. There’s always been a countdown on this love, and you know it.

So, why? Why stay, when it would be better, easier, safer, to leave?

It’s your voice that draws her out of her swirling thoughts. Your cup her cheek, affection bleeding through the smile you offer her.

“I can hear you thinking,” you murmur. “What’s on your mind?”

She contemplates deflecting the question. But Ruan Mei is a scientist above all else, and she cannot bear unanswered questions. Uncertainties. So she takes a deep breath, and asks, “why do you stay?”

You consider her for a moment, then tilt your head curiously. “What do you mean?”

“Why do you stay?” Ruan Mei repeats. “You know what I desire to achieve. Once those desires reach fruition… there will be nothing left of us. Of this.”

“Won’t there?” you counter after a beat of silence, seeming almost amused. “All Aeons have their followers.”

“You would walk upon my Path?”

You laugh at that. “Well, I love you. So haven’t I already?”

Ruan Mei falls silent. In the end, what’s the difference between love and faith? How might the reception of devotion differ between a god and a man? Does it? Maybe this is the link between divine and mundane that she’s been searching for. Maybe part of the heavens she’s trying so hard to reach is simply lying next to you, in this bed, in this lab-turned-home at the edge of the universe.

For now, she files these thoughts away, and kisses you again. Her lips taste like plum pastries, sweet and inviting. She kisses you slowly, mapping the shape of your lips, comitting every dip and countour to her memory. She wants to weave you within her, embroider the image of you into the tapestry of her existence so that she won’t forget a single thing.

(A foolish notion. You already are.)

You moan into her mouth and she swallows it greedily, like a fledgling god hungry for faith. Her hand travels down your body again until her fingers find your pussy, still slick with your own cum. You whine as she drags her finger through your soaked folds, her thumb rubbing on your clit.

“A-Ruan,” you breathe out, and Ruan Mei trembles. You say her name like a prayer, like she’s already divine. Distantly she thinks, as she sinks two fingers into your tight, welcoming heat, that it’s the epithet she cherishes most, because it’s the one that names your love. You grip her shoulder and cry out as she works her fingers in and out of your cunt, oozing wetness like ambrosia. Your back arches as she curls her fingers just right against that spongy spot. She kisses your neck as she feels your muscles tense around her fingers.

“Let go for me,” she whispers against your skin like a commandmenf. “Let go, sweet thing.”

You cum with a wordless scream, your nails dragging down her smooth back. She slows the movements of her fingers as she helps you ride out the orgasm, slower and slower until she finally withdraws. Your eyes are shut and your breathing laboured from your second orgasm of the night, but you have never looked more beautiful to Ruan Mei.

“I love you,” she says quietly, pressing her forehead against yours. You offer her a smile like a sacrament, and for a moment she’s terrified that you’d ask her to stay—terrified that she’ll say yes. But you don’t, and instead your return those words to her, pure like revelation.

You will be the only thing she’ll regret leaving behind. But for now, while she has you here in her arms, she’ll cherish you more than anything else.

[popsicle-stick]

small bit of a thing i'm working on (amongst other work i should actually be doing)

[weird-an]

"I'm not good for you, Harrington," Billy says, pressing his cigarette out on the crystal ashtray Steve stole out of his dad's office.

Steve wants to laugh. He can't. The noise gets stuck somewhere near his heart. Back then, when he was King Steve, the champion of arrogance, he thought of himself too good for anybody and still wasn't enough for anyone.

Now? He's not good. Not bad. Just Steve. Steve can kill a monster with a baseball bat. Steve is a bitch. Steve's best friend is a fucking nerdy kid.

And Billy? Billy survived a monster in his head. Billy hates sentiment and cuddles in his sleep. Billy can be an asshole. Billy isn't good, Billy isn't bad.

Importantly, Steve thinks they can be better together. Somehow. He has know idea why, can't solve the equation, but he has always sucked at math.

"You're right for me," he tells Billy. It's so easy to say. Like the sky being blue. A fact.

Billy glares at him through his long dark lashes, his eyes reminding Steve of a summer's day.

"Don't be stupid, Harrington." There is no bite in it. Billy's hands shake.

"I'm not," Steve tells him, nearly snaps. King Steve is an echo, but not forgotten. He sucks in a deep breath and puts his hand on Billy's. Traces the thin scars on his palms. Almost silver in the dim light of the bedroom.

"I'm not," Steve repeats softly. "We're good together."

"We," Billy says, like he's trying out the word for the first time. Steve wonders how it tastes on his tongue.

"I'm not good, Steve."

"Neither am I." Steve grins at Billy.

Billy rolls his eyes, but returns his smile..

"We suck," Billy says, voice affectionate in a way it makes Steve want to hug him.

"We're good at that."

Steve squeezes his hand. Billy squeezes back.

[khattikeri]

maybe a controversial opinion but while i really love jiang cheng as a character he is deeply self-centered as a person. and seeing people fight tooth and nail claiming he isn't, or is just misunderstood, or that he has genuine valid reasons to be selfish when plenty of other characters make the difficult choice to forego status and opportunities for what they believe is genuinely right to do (read: wei wuxian, wen ning, wen qing, lan wangji, jiang yanli, mianmian, etc.)

it's just odd to me. especially if they're talking about the novels.

mxtx didn't give jiang cheng the name "sandu shengshou" as a quirky coincidence. there's a REASON she named him & his sword after the 3 poisons of Buddhism (specifically ignorance, greed, and hatred). it's crucial to the story that jiang cheng is NOT selfless and that wei wuxian IS.

it's important to accept that wei wuxian is, by their society's standards, not morally gray; he represents several Buddhist ideals in direct contrast of jiang cheng and multiple people attest to wei wuxian's strong moral character, which is a lot of why jiang cheng even feels bitter about him to begin with.

it's crucial, because by the end of the novel jiang cheng realizes the extent of this and begins to let go!

the twin prides thing wasn't jiang cheng wanting them to 100% mirror the twin jades. he does care about wei wuxian, but he wanted wei wuxian to stay his right hand man, in part the way wei changze was for jiang fengmian.

and if there's one thing you can notice about wei changze in the novels, it's that literally nobody talks about him. he is only ever mentioned when his cool mysterious mountain sect wife cangse-sanren is mentioned, or (even more rarely) when they discuss him as a servant to jiang fengmian. regardless of jiang fengmian's own feelings, wei changze was considered lesser to him and didn't seem to outdo him, since nobody's out there years later still waxing poetry about wei changze's skills.

it may not be the only thing jiang cheng wants out of a twin pride dynamic, but it is a big part of it. regardless of his parents' intentions in taking wei wuxian in and treating him certain ways, this twin pride right-hand man thing is what jiang cheng has felt owed since childhood. he gave up his dogs for wei wuxian, people gossip about his sect heir position with wei wuxian there... jiang cheng wants the reciprocation of what he views as personal sacrifices.

he is ignorant to the depth of what wei wuxian must've suffered for over 6 years as a malnourished orphan child on the streets. he hates how wei wuxian's intelligence, witty charm, and cultivation abilities are naturally stronger than his own. he does care about wei wuxian a lot and want them to be together as sort of-brothers, sort of-friends, sort of-young master and sect servant...

...but if it's between that unclear (yet still caring) relationship and being able to save himself just a little bit more, jiang cheng nearly always manages to clam up in the face of danger and choose the latter, which ultimately benefits himself most. maybe it's a stretch to call that sort of thing greed, but it certainly isn't selfless.

there are of course plenty of justifications for this. it's his duty as sect heir. his home and sect was severely damaged by the wen attack and subsequent war; he had to protect himself, etc.

but doesn't that prove the point?

wei wuxian may be charming, but in terms of pure social standing, he is lower and far more susceptible to being punished or placed in harm's way by people who have more power and money. to protect wei wuxian, yunmeng jiang's long-term head disciple and semi-family member, even in the face of backlash and public scrutiny would've been the selfless thing to do. this is what wei wuxian does for the wen remnants in the burial mounds.

jiang cheng does not choose this. it's not even an unreasonable choice for him to make! nobody else in the great clans is doing such a thing, stepping out of line to take on a burden that could weaken them in the long-run. wei wuxian himself doesn't hate jiang cheng for it; he lets go of these things and focuses on what good he can do in the present.

jiang cheng thinks further into the future - what would happen to him if he continued vouching for wei wuxian and taking his side? what about jiang cheng's face, his sect's face? would wei wuxian even care to reciprocate somehow? everyone expects him to cut off wei wuxian for being dangerous, for threatening his position, for...

do you see what i mean? to call jiang cheng selfless for falling in line with exactly what people expected him to do after the war is not only wrong, it's foolish.

"but they faked their falling-out!" okay. why fake it to begin with, except to protect jiang cheng and the jiang sect's own face? is that selfless? who does it ultimately serve to protect? wei wuxian canonically internalizes the idea that he stains all that he touches, including lan wangji, and agrees to the fake fight because he doesn't want to cause the jiang sect harm. regardless, it eventually slides into a true falling-out, and in the end jiang cheng is more or less unscathed reputation-wise while wei wuxian falls.

that isn't selfless. it's many things! it's respecting his clan and his ancestors, it's making a good plan for the future of his sect and cultivation... but it isn't a truly selfless in the interest of what's right rather than in the interest of duty and what's good for him and his family lineage.

that brings me to my next point: even though wei wuxian hid the truth of the golden core transfer, jiang cheng spent nearly 20 years believing that the golden core "renewal" he was given was a birthright gift of wei wuxian's from baoshan-sanren, an immortal sect teacher of wei wuxian's mother's and a martial elder to wei wuxian.

of course we all know that's a big fat lie, but jiang cheng believed that wei wuxian gave up a critical emergency use gift to him for decades! he was lied to, yes, but jiang cheng immediately agreed without even needing to be convinced. the light in his dead eyes came back with hope the moment wei wuxian even said baoshan-sanren's name. he accepted wei wuxian's offer to give that up to him and take it via identity theft without missing a beat.

with how mysterious and revered baoshan-sanren is, that's obviously not a light sacrifice to just give up to anyone, no matter how close they might be to you. pretending to be wei wuxian to take the gift could even be considered dangerous. what if she found out and got offended? could wei wuxian be hurt by that?

jiang cheng doesn't even hesitate. wei wuxian is the one who mentions that if jiang cheng doesn't pretend to be him, the immortal master could get angry and they'd both be goners. and funnily enough, the day they do go to "the mountain", jiang cheng is the one worried and suspiciously wondering if wei wuxian was lying to him or had misremembered.

of course they've both been traumatized like hell prior to this point. but still: it speaks to how broken he was at the moment as well as to his character overall.

i digress: jiang cheng "gets his golden core back" via what he believed was a gift that should've been wei wuxian's to use in serious emergencies. rather than use it for himself, wei wuxian risked his own safety and gave it to jiang cheng... and jiang cheng still ends up embittered and angry, believing that wei wuxian is arrogant and selfish.

if he truly views them as 100% brothers and equals with no caveats, why would he think that way? it's not like he needs to grovel before wei wuxian for doing that, or to reciprocate... but this is what i mean when i say jiang cheng feels he is owed things by wei wuxian. wei wuxian's actions hold a very different weight in jiang cheng's mind, and jiang cheng himself doesn't ever act the same way, except once.

is it wrong for him to feel like he is owed something? it depends. many asian cultures, including my own, feel that a person owes their family in ways that may not make sense to westerners. for example, it's considered normal for a child to owe their parents for giving birth to them, or to other caretakers for feeding, clothing, sheltering, educating them, etc.

however, something like verbally saying "thank you" or "i'm sorry" to family is considered crazy- why would you owe that? you're supposed to inconvenience your family; saying thank you or sorry is the sort of thing you say to a stranger or acquaintance. i get half-seriously lectured by my elders on this a lot even now, even though they know such phrases are just considered good manners in the US.

this muddies up the idea of wei wuxian being jiang cheng's family vs his family's charge or servant even more. jiang cheng wants wei wuxian to be close... but ultimately doesn't really choose to use what power he DOES have to protect wei wuxian. he considers himself still owed something that in his mind wei wuxian flagrantly never repays.

this isn't even getting into how despite spending a majority of his time with the yiling patriarch he never once noticed that wei wuxian stopped using any spiritual power-based cultivation. even lan wangji, who met them far more rarely, realized that something was wrong and that wei wuxian had taken some sort of spiritual damage, hence the "come with me to gusu".

of course manpain is fun and i'm not immune to the juicy idea of them reconciling and talking things out... but jiang cheng is deeply mired in his own desire to be "above" wei wuxian in multiple ways, and doesn't realize the extent of wei wuxian's actions, the intentions behind them, and the consequences wei wuxian knowingly faced for them.

to not recognize this about jiang cheng, especially in the novels, is really revisionist if you ask me. i reiterate that i really do like him a lot. he's flawed, angry, traumatized and has poor coping mechanisms, an overall fascinating character... but he is not selfless nor ideal, and i seriously draw the line at people saying he is.

wen ning shoves this all into his face at lotus pier to disastrous results. it is the reason why jiang cheng's a total mess at guanyin temple, and the reason jiang cheng ultimately doesn't tell wei wuxian about the fact that he ran towards the wens on purpose.

for that one last act of his to have really been selfless, he needs to not seek anything in return. he did it purely because it was right to do to protect someone else. if that means wei wuxian never finds out about it, so be it.

that moment that ended up causing jiang cheng irreversible harm is not a debt that wei wuxian owes him. it hurts, but no matter how bitter it is, that realization is so important to him changing in the future.

[thebluestbluewords]

Dis-like-Dysentery

I have a lot of very specific headcanons about Auradon Prep, and one of them is the fact that Jay is both a Smart Guy, and also chronically incapable of turning in assignments on time. For. Reasons.

this might be about one of those reasons.

+

Carlos looks up from his plate as Jay wanders over. “Dude, where were you? We started eating without you.” 

“Talking to a teacher. I submitted an assignment wrong, or something.” 

Carlos nods. He’s got a fork dangling from one hand, and there’s a leaf stuck in his hair. Sunlit from behind, Jay’s pretty sure that he’s the prettiest boy on this side of the barrier. “Oh, man. Was it Demorra? She’s super strict about the rules, especially for the online stuff. I could’ve helped you figure it out bro, you don’t have to get through her bureaucratic shit on your own.” 

Jay sets his tray down on the opposite side of the table. “Nah. It was Williams.” 

Carlos frowns. “The international lit teacher? Really?” 

They’ve been reading through Jay’s lit assignments together. Auradon expects them to type up all of their homework, so he’s been getting by with the hacked dictation program on his laptop and locking himself in the bathroom to read his essays out loud into the program with the minimum of background noise. 

There’s a peer writing tutor who does proofreading two nights a week for free, but Jay’s not gonna take his shitty essays in to her when he’s pretty sure he’ll just get laughed right back out of the student study room for the giant default font Carlos set on his computer. 

It doesn’t exactly make reading his own assignments easier, but it doesn’t make it worse either, so they’re calling it functional for now. Auradon Prep is all about “helping students embrace their unique academic talents”, so Carlos and Evie are both being pulled for more advanced classes, which is great for them, and terrible for Jay’s essays because it’s seriously starting to cut into their free time. 

That, and the trouble they’ve been getting up to after hours. 

The assistant gym teacher still hasn’t figured out who to blame for French braiding all the climbing ropes together. 

“She couldn’t read my handwriting.” 

“Fuck.” 

That’s about the shape of it. Handwritten assignments are few and far between, but Jay can’t bullshit his way through all of them. “Haha, yeah.” 

Carlos thunks his head down onto the table. “Ugh. Fuck. I can make you a handwriting font on the computer, but that’ll make in-class assignments worse if you can’t keep it up.” 

“Yup.” 

He sits up. There’s a dent on his forehead from pressing it into the table. “Eat.” 

“Not hungry,” Jay says as cheerfully as he can manage. It’s not gonna fool Carlos, but he’s not gonna show weakness in front of the royal rabble. “Anyway, we’re not going to the honor board. She’s willing to settle it with some sorta evaluation. Have you heard of dyslexia before?” 

Carlos blinks. “Dyslexia? No. I mean. It’s gotta be dis from like, disinterested, disintegrating, some sort of anti? Or else it’s dys from like, dysentery. Some sort of illness, maybe. Lex has gotta be from lexicon, lexicography. Something to do with either anti-words or a words illness? Does she think you’re sick of words?” 

Jay shrugs. “She said it’s why I’m bad at reading. Wants me to do an assessment so she can know what’s going on.” 

Carlos already has his phone out. He’s typing with one hand, the other one curled around his plate in a defensive hunch that’s almost casual. “Huh. How’s that going for her so far?” 

Jay snorts. “Fab. Nah, she didn’t do it yet. It’s a whole special test that she’s gotta send me down to the psych for.” 

“Can you reject it?” 

“If I wanna meet with the honor board and explain why I apparently have great handwriting, but only when they can’t see me do the assignments.” 

“Fuck.” 

“Yeah. At least she was cool about it.” 

Carlos groans. “Your handwriting sucks, dude. You’re not sick of writing, you’re just— your handwriting sucks.” 

“Yeah, and my fucking reading comprehension. I—“ Jay cuts himself off abruptly as the shadow of more people falls across their lunch table. “Hey, guys.” 

Mal sets her lunch tray down on Jay’s left side, leaving Ben the spot on his right. Evie’s not eating with them today. They have other friends in theory, but between Doug’s science club buddies and Carlos’s general disinterest in socializing with other humans, they didn’t bother picking a table large enough for anyone else.  

“Sorry,” Ben apologizes, even as he’s nudging his shoulder against Jay’s. It’s nice not being the only tall one sometimes. “I couldn’t help overhearing.” 

Jay leans back into the contact. “We were talking out loud, dude. It happens. You got any hot tips for the stupid assessment I’ve gotta do later?” 

“Have you tried being better?” Mal suggests. “I find that cheating works great. I could find you a spell to let one of us borrow your hands for a few hours, and so long as you can tell us what you want to write, we can control the muscles and get better handwriting than your usual chicken scratch special.” 

“Hey.”

“Would that work if you can’t see the paper?” Ben asks curiously. 

Mal frowns. “No. Not unless I modify the spell to possess your eyes too.” 

Jay represses a shudder. “Thanks, but no thanks, M. I like my eyes in one piece.” 

Carlos is scrolling rapidly on his phone, hanging half-over the table in an attempt to get closer to the three of them. “Dude, dyslexia is a brain thing that affects how you process visual input of words— aw, shit.” 

Bad. That’s the bad-news tone. Jay’s heart drops traitorously into his stomach, which suddenly isn’t feeling the tater tots on his lunch tray. “What?” 

Carlos shakes his head. “Nothing too bad. Just, I think Williams is right. You’ve said you’re shit at reading fast cause the words all look the same, right? Like, you can’t scan to identify them, you’ve gotta sound each one out.” 

Jay smashes a tater tot with the side of his fork. The destruction doesn’t make his gut feel any better. It’s not that he’s mad, it’s just— he doesn’t want to do this. Analyzing his brain sucks. He did the whole week of required therapy that the student disciplinary council required after the stuff with Mal’s mom, and he’s so fucking done with Auradon grown-ups pretending to understand why his head’s fucked up. “Yeah, so?” 

Carlos waves the phone at him. “So that’s what this is. You’ve got a brain disorder.” 

“We can fix it, right?” 

He wiggles a hand back and forth. “Ehh. Kinda. There’s techniques to make it easier, but it’s sorta like— your brain is wired for AC power input, and words are DC. It’s a misalignment. We can make an adaptor, but we can’t rip out your brain wiring.” 

“I could,” Mal offers. “I love doing illegal magic.”