#even though we did not have a functional ed for years

[londonfog-chan]

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader: Rite Here, Rite Now Part 1

This two shot fic is dedicated to that poor soul on TikTok getting shitty comments about a headcanon of Eddie liking Ghost. Fandom has become so damn toxic bro. Who cares about what an imaginary character likes or dislikes?? We are cringe, we are legion. We make out of pocket headcanons sometimes. Like come on, Eddie might “theoretically” dislike Mary On A Cross specifically for various reasons, but I could see him having some favorites. You can’t say he would entirely hate Ghost when fucking Year Zero and Mummy Dust exist. Or the whole of Prequelle as an album. I had to laugh at one person saying he liked Avenged Sevenfold (it didn’t exist in the 80’s and neither did Ghost like we are literally arguing about shit he wouldn’t have known about be so serious rn). But I digress. I’ve even gotten a couple hateful comments on a fun little TikTok I made and I honestly have just been deleting them and blocking. Don’t even want to deal with people’s bullshit anymore. Please enjoy this spite fic and continue writing and having fun babes. Go against the flow and make Eddie proud.

Part 1 (You are Here), Part 2

***

Every member of Corroded Coffin could tell when you arrived to a function. Eddie knew the sound of your car like a cat that knows when its owner is home, and he’d be waiting outside the school to greet you first. That and the car make and model. Someone always called it if not Eddie. He’d been off his game today though, definitely the excited nerves. Jeff called out your 1979 Volkswagen Beetle heading up the driveway by slugging Eddie hard on the bicep, Gareth and Dougie immediately following up with calling “no tag backs” as they rushed to hit each other and Eddie like a bunch of middle schoolers. Eddie almost got nailed by Dougie’s beefy fist until he nimbly dodged out of the way, cradling his prized Warlock like it was a newborn.

“God dammit, easy asshole!” Eddie laughed. “Don’t be hitting my baby! I need her intact if I’m going to impress our songstress.”

“Trust me Ed, she doesn’t need more impressing. You had her in a tizzy when you asked her to write a song for you. I wonder what she came up with.” Gareth said, leaning forward so his hands were settled on both his high and medium toms, he was watching your approach intently with a gleam in his eye. “She didn’t even make it to campaign on Friday. Must have really been in the zone.”

You parked the car against the side of the driveway, emerging looking as though you’d just swallowed a whole mouthful of cry baby sour gum. Your lips were pressed tightly together, clutching your fat Trapper Keeper to your chest as you approached the group.

“Hey sweetheart!” Eddie called, waving you over enthusiastically. “You okay?”

“Eddie… God it’s so bad… It’s worse than I thought.” You said, grimacing.

God you looked delicious. He couldn’t help himself but to stare and smile like a dope. With each step your flowing gray skirt swished enticingly side to side, and with a bit of pride Eddie noticed you were wearing the Twisted Sister shirt he’d distressed for you, looking like an adorable snack of a metalhead with your black clothes, black opaque tights and dirty Chucks.

Eddie’s smile faltered only slightly when he heard your self depreciation.

“Oh come on, can’t be that bad. Not with those grades you’ve got in English. Let me see…”

“Fuck no! No seriously… it’s worse than you think.” You insisted, shaking your head and pulling away from his outstretched hand, “It’s so… God dammit! What the hell was I thinking…?”

Gareth, Jeff and Dougie left their instruments to approach you, Eddie putting both hands on your shoulders to comfort you.

“Hey, hey… come on, don’t be like that.” He said, smile gone and a more serious look on his face. “I get it, I really do. It comes with the territory of writing your own songs. Trust me, I’ve done it for years. You won’t pick it up overnight, and whatever you think is weak we can work on it together. I’m a DM honey, I can have my pen out faster than you can blink and help redraft as many times as it takes.”

“Oh… god dammit… okay, fine…”

You reluctantly handed Eddie the trapper keeper, the velcro making a harsh rip as he pulled it open to the first page where your lyrics neatly sat waiting for him to peruse. Eddie’s eyebrow raised when he saw the title, “Square Hammer”, outlined in red ink.

“ ‘Square Hammer’? … Huh… I like it, that’s good.” Eddie nodded, and continued to read on.

The lyrics were certainly unique to say the least. It was obvious you’d tried to go with a theme based on the prompt he’d given you: something that oozes the brooding dark metal he envisioned Corroded Coffin would croon to thousands of fans. You certainly had an affinity for the macabre, and he knew he could trust you with everything he wanted in his vision. Then again you could have written the cheesiest, poppy trash in the world and he would have loved it. He was extremely biased, far too sweet on you for his own good. But these weren’t bad at all. The lyrics reminded him of old Hollywood vampire movies, echoing the work of Doctor Faustus with the thematic element in the song. The voice of the lyrics seemed to be coming from an otherworldly entity, one summoned to offer power and prestige to the listener.

And Eddie was obsessed with every word the further he read on.

“Woah, woah…”

His eyes widened with every sentence he read.

“Holy shit…”

Powers clandestine, solving a crooked rhyme… Every line, no matter how simple, packed a lot when combined in the collective.

Eddie finally looked up at you, completely bewildered.

“You wrote this by yourself?!” He croaked.

You were embarrassed to hell, curling in on yourself and looking like you wanted to die.

“Ye… yeah… I… When you asked me to write for you, I got really stuck on what I wanted to do. But I remember you mentioned Black Sabbath was one of your first covers, and then I couldn’t get the image of the coffin out of my head because, you know, “Corroded Coffin”… and then we were reading Faustus in Mrs. O’Donnell’s class and I thought since you asked me to do you this favor and Faustus is all about favors…-“

You were rambling. Not even paying attention to Eddie’s continually growing grin. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet the longer you ranted on, until his untamable outburst silenced you.

“THIS IS AMAZING!” Eddie was screaming, scaring the shit out of everyone. “Holy fuck sweetheart! Are you bullshitting me?! This is… fuck! We’ve been stressing for new material for next month’s gig at The Hideout and you just gave it to us on a silver platter?! Jesus H.!”

“Bwha-?!”

“Check this out…!” Eddie turned away to show his friends while you quietly protested, unable to speak as he passed the paper around. The guys crowded around, each one shouting out when they saw a favorite part, “hammering the nails into the sacred coffin” quickly became a favorite, because they immediately began trying to work out how they could fit the lyrics to sound.

“All we gotta do is work out a melody and we’re in business baby!” Eddie said. “This is bitchin’!”

“But it doesn’t even make any sense!” You argued. “Like seriously? The entrance to the shrine part does not fucking fit, I only wrote it because I couldn’t come up with a better rhyme with clandestine!”

“Who cares?” Eddie cried. “It’s badass as hell! The imagery is absolutely savage… ‘Hiding from the night, sacrificing nothing’, and don’t let me forget about the little tongue in cheek line you added about hammering nails into a sacred coffin!”

“It’s fucking great!” Echoed Jeff.

“You should be proud. You managed to take our style and give it a unique spin, that’s not something anyone can do.” Eddie praised. “God dammit… I’d have been a millionaire by now if I could write like this.”

“You… you really liked those parts?” You asked cautiously.

“Of course I did sweetheart! This is real metal shit right here. And the part with the ‘crooked rhyme’? That really captured the creep factor I was looking for. Shit… what’s more metal than summoning a demon for a deal? That’s exactly what Corroded Coffin needs in its material. I love this little brain of yours!”

“Don’t forget Ed!” Dougie cut in. “ ‘Are you ready to swear right here right now before the devil’?!”

“Bitchin’! Keep this up, and I’m gonna wanna make you write all of Corroded Coffin’s songs from now on!” Eddie beamed happily.

“We gotta get the melody worked out!” Jeff said, “Any ideas? I could come up with a few…”

The boys began gabbing together, Eddie unable to help himself as he began to strum his precious 1984 BC Warlock, his black beauty. Without a doubt he could already envision how he could make his baby purr for you, impress you, take you out finally.

And then you changed his world forever.

“… I had an idea for a melody already…” you said quietly.

All eyes turned to you. The guys were thunderstruck.

“Seriously?! Lyrics and a melody?! You’re spoiling the shit out of me sweetheart! Jeff, let her borrow your…-“

“No… no I… I don’t know how to play guitar…” you said, cutting off Eddie sheepishly, “But I… I brought my Casio with me…”

“Where is it?!”

“In the trunk of my bug…”

“Well go get it! Show me whatcha got sweetheart!”

Eddie followed you to the front of the Volkswagen. Everyone always thought the front trunk was the coolest shit ever and he was no exception. The cool car only added to the many things he liked about you. You took out the obnoxiously large keyboard and the stand, fumbling to close the trunk until Eddie stepped in with an “easy… I got it”, slamming the trunk shut and helping you lift the Casio like a gentleman. You were shaking, vibrating with embarrassment so hard that Eddie had to help you plug everything in and adjust the sound, hovering and reaching over you on purpose hoping you’d notice and feel his burn for you.

“Alright sweetheart? Show us what you’ve got.”

You turned on the Casio and fingered the keys gently, warming up with a few chords as you tried to soothe the shaking in your fingers. Fiddling with the settings, you stalled as long as you could while the boys waited patiently. Once you found the setting you wanted, you went for it.

It was like a demon had possessed your body. The melody was quick, but it packed a hell of a punch. It was in the key of D minor, and you had ironically chosen what sounded like a combination of 1960’s psychedelic sticky rhodes and Transylvanian organ to achieve the effect you wanted. The sound overall was eerie, yet enchantingly fun all at the same time. And your singing! You were singing softly under your breath, rocking yourself to the melody on the tips of your worn out sneakers, and you had quite the set of pipes! Despite your shot nerves, you’d clearly come up with something truly special that no one else in the entire world could have conceived of.

It wasn’t the traditional metal Eddie had in mind, more avant-garde, theatrical even. Whereas he had expected a sound more like Black Sabbath, you played something not out of place at a theater performance of Dracula. But this sound… there was something that nagged him about it. It was a sound that Eddie could imagine playing to arenas of screaming, adoring fans.

“Gentlemen… that’s our fucking song!” Eddie cried, “That’s our song, it’s a goddamned masterpiece!”

The Casio halted, and your mouth was hanging open mid play.

“What?! How-…” you began.

“I can already hear the riff, Ed what do you think of following with standard tuning instead of going to D minor?” Jeff picked up his Gibson and began to play, mimicking what he heard on your Casio by ear. “If you move it, the sound is way off from what I’m envisioning. But if you keep it at standard you leave it easier on the fingers with the couple of open notes when you start stretching.”

“Yeah, yeah! If you tune it down it’s going to sound off with her playing when you hit the chords.” Eddie agreed, immediately looking back at you. “Play it one more time sweetheart?”

You cautiously complied, going through the melody one more time as Jeff began to follow with you. Eddie was completely absorbed in your music, listening to both you and Jeff play and following along quietly. The warlock in his hands eventually couldn’t be helped, humming to life when he started playing a chord at a time by ear. As he played, he kept you repeating the melody over and over, both Eddie and Jeff deep in concentration on the sound. It was getting almost exhausting trying to continually repeat the sound until they got it right.

“D minor.” Eddie said, playing a note.

“Then she does B flat there.” Jeff played.

“A minor.” They said in unison.

“C. And that’s what I’m thinking your rhythm guitar can do, meanwhile, I’ll keep the root of the chords for the riff so I can follow her keys.” Eddie said, and he began to perfectly copy your melody. “Okay sweetheart, just one more time… and then let’s bring everything together.”

[fannyrosie]

I've followed you for quite a while and I've always loved your style plus I lived vicariously through your life in Japan lol. I'm sorry if you've already posted this I couldn't find the post but I was wondering why you left Japan. It's my dream to live there one day and I was curious what it was like.

I have answered that in my Instagram Stories, but here is the long story version (TL;DR: I came back mainly because of my poor health):

I left Japan after 6 1/2 years for several reasons, but one the main reason is because of my health. I've never been the healthiest person, even before moving there (I was even dubbed "the sick one" at my old job because I often had to suddenly leave work in the afternoons). I was constantly tired and had really bad abdominal pains. I saw several doctors in Montreal, and all I managed to get was a diagnosis for IBS and anxiety. However, I was functional most days, and managed to work and live relatively normally, as long as I rested a lot and stuck to my FODMAP diet.

During the few first years of my life in Japan, my physical health remained that way, with some random very bad health periods, but overall, I was fine. I even started to workout regularly to improve my posture and muscles. However, from 2020 onwards, my health declined significantly. On top of my worsening IBS, I started having really bad spine pains, radiating to my head, chest and arms, and making me so tired I had to take several days of rest every time I went out. I started to catch every little virus I got in contact with, and had to avoid taking public transport the most I could. I was working from home, and walked a lot, so that was manageable, but it made me more isolated.

I saw several doctors, but even though they did blood tests and x-rays, they couldn't find anything and just assumed it was stress. After reading about EDS, I thought I might have that (since I am also hypermobile), and had to wait 7 months to get an appointment at Todai's hospital. However, on the day of my appointment, I got told that Todai only deals with EDS related to heart issues, and my tests were all normal, including my x-rays. That was in June 2022, and was the final straw, as it proved that even the most advanced hospital in Japan couldn't help me. By that time, I had to wear a back brace to do the most basic things, like laundry or going to the supermarket, and was taking painkillers every day. I had to stop working because I couldn't work on my computer for more than 2 hours a day. Obviously, no work=no money.

Coming back to Québec, I had to wait 3 months to get back on the public health system, and as of today (6 months after being back), I managed to get x-rays and MRI showing I have: discopathy (degenerative spine disk disease), osteoarthritis (degenerative joint disease), several herniated disks in my cervical region and pinched nerves due disks collapsing. Basically, I have the spine of a 70 year old. I have been referred to a physiatrist, but we all know that Québec's public health system is very slow. so God knows when I'll see one. Nevertheless, they found something, which is better than all the doctors in Japan who told me it was just stress. Japan sadly has a big culture of having to "endure" pain (mental or physical), and it shows in their medical system.

Due to the degenerative nature of the illnesses they found up to now, my health is constantly getting worse. I used to have good and bad health days, but now, I have more bad health days than good health days. I still take painkillers every day and wear my back brace to do normal tasks, but most days, these are not enough. I am trying to make the most of my "good" health days by dressing up and doing nice things, but I never know how I will be the next day (or hour).

I had to take two breaks writing this; hopefully it makes sense haha

[canmom]

i was a very online teenager. i struggled with in-person interpersonal relationships and spent a lot of time on a much less sanded down internet than the one we have today. and my peers at school were on that same internet.

so of course i saw porn of various kinds, from goofy flash videos to the standard catalogue of shock images (goatse, meatspin etc.). like most kids my age, we took it mostly as a big joke. it was exciting mostly only because it was forbidden, like swearing. so people would talk about something like 2girls1cup, and whether you'd seen it, in much the same way you'd talk about having seen gory shock horror films like Saw. none of this was particularly upsetting or shocking. (i found gore way more discomforting, in general.)

even so, the whole environment was rife with repression. and frankly, 'imply someone is gay' ('batty boy' is one especially goofy slur i remember) being a default category of joke did way more damage than knowing some people are into scat or playing a flash game where you can see a drawing of some boobs. implicitly sexual insults would be common, often playing on someone's naivete. i got very used to 'do you have ginger pubes'. tricking someone into saying something 'sexual' without understanding, and then laughing at them, was another one - i suppose it functioned a way of showing your proximity to the mysterious adult world of knowing about sex.

so after a few years of that, i went through a whole period of just... trying to distance myself from having anything to do with sex. we didn't have 'asexuality' language back then, but i probably would have jumped on it if it had been available. 'sex is gross' was the only frame i had to distance myself from how my classmates talked about sexuality, because i didn't have a handle on what was really up, just that i didn't like it. projecting 'i am above it all and find it disgusting' was a form of armour that calcified around me and ultimately did tons of damage to my ability to understand my own feelings. as i got older, this got mixed up in the moralistic rhetoric of online 'social justice'.

when i got to university and finally started to knock down that wall, i had to speedrun figuring out "how to do relationship". (i dived into polyamory head first, and of course that all went as badly as first relationships usually do.) it's been messy.

i reckon if i'd been willing to approach subcultures as a teenager that had given more room to experiment with like, desire and expression and so on... like if i hadn't let the background contempt get under my skin, for the emos and furries and whatever other 'having too much of the wrong kind of fun' social group we were all supposed to hate... i would probably have been a lot happier! if i'd had any out gay people around me before age 17!

the idea of trying to make sure people never see anything ever related to sex until they're 18, outside of whatever the government deigns to allow to be said in sex ed class, is so hopelessly arse-backwards. it's not going to work - a generation that grew up on the internet is going to be way better at getting to what they want to see than the censors are at blocking it, so the main function of the censorship is to reinforce the idea that they're looking at something shameful and secret. it's not going to protect kids - if anything i suspect it's going to make them more vulnerable to exploitation and mistreatment, either by adults who can offer 'access to the forbidden secrets of sexuality', or by their peers by producing this dumbass hierarchy. and tbh i think knowing about all the weird fetishes there are in the world is actually a really beneficial thing, in the same category of 'seeing your grandma's tits at the spa'.

unless, i guess, what you really want to do is teach everyone how to bypass censorship and distrust authority figures? i think there might be better ways to do that, though!

[hamofjustice]

I don't want to just painstakingly copypaste my triple-layered self-QRT thread about it on Twitter and any other ones floating around but

I am very emotionally invested in seeing Penny, Arven, and (personally) especially Nemona again in the Scarlet/Violet DLC, after GF followed up the best 3 hours of Pokemon game story ever by having to abruptly cut it off the second these lonely kids finish opening up to you and say you can hang out with them anytime. Which you never do. It was some pretty painful whiplash, and I was sure the main point of the DLC was to relieve that, especially when their arcs don't seem quite complete yet. Very clever, evil marketing! But uh... well... about that...

It is very worrying that aside from a little "the story so far" montage, they have not been seen or mentioned in promotional material/footage whatsoever. Y'know, DLC for the game that's about how the real treasure was the friends you found along the way (literally, in Nemona's case), and even if your family and support systems fail you, you still have each other? Written from the heart by someone who said Arven's story is inspired by their own life? With the sappy Ed Sheeran song about reaching out for connection with others, that also seems to be named after Team Star? The game where one of the features the devs seemed most proud of was going on adventures and into boss fights with 3 of your friends? The game that ended with a fully functional and quite immersive bonding adventure with these characters you'd gotten to know and care about, that basically everyone thought was the best part of the game by a mile, and were left wishing the whole game was like that?

Yeah, I (and everyone else) have been driving around alone in that game for 8 months ever since finishing that story. 8 months of minor updates with a ton of the beloved characters functionally or literally gone, while we go around doing online stuff with nothing else to do in the world, with a single player postgame more barren than we had on Game Boy Color (thank god for mints and bottle caps though). I'm left just... wanting to go back to the way things were before I beat the game. Not to be overly dramatic, but this world I supposedly saved feels like one I failed to save. And I'm getting really frustrated. (The framerate hasn't gotten any better, either, but this isn't about that.)

It's like Game Freak (or whoever forced this thing out a year early, or both) never expected you to boot the game up again once you got bored of the Ace Academy Tournament, which the game acts like is the entire total of what you could want from being friends and "rivals for life" with your squad (I mean I'm the sicko that loves Tera Raids, so I'm not that bored, but still). It makes a bunch of implications that your adventure is just beginning, and then it totally just... isn't. Why is the E4 building closed? Why do you only rematch the gyms once? And most of all, for me personally: Why did we get access to our friends' rooms if there's nothing to do or talk about there? (Besides look for character study clues, which they have lots of)

All they could come up with when asked to write a newsletter email about what you can still do in S/V and why you should still be playing it was Raids. That was it. Remember when you had an endless challenge in the Tower/Maison that you could optionally take on with a bunch of story characters as your partners instead of alone, that motivated you to keep getting stronger bit by bit? Remember rematching gym leaders multiple times and watching their teams grow and evolve each time? Yeah, there's none of that here, because that would take more than a week to implement. If you want friends and you want battles, you'll have to do it yourself online now. They're not allocating any budget for that.

Your rival for life, who's so excited you're on her level now, who seems to have the passion and skill to be the your Battle Tower gameplay loop by herself if she wanted to, who battles you for hours offscreen with multiple teams, whose whole character arc is that she finally has someone she can do this with... is fully static, with one kinda mediocre team that never grows or changes. She can't keep up with you and doesn't know what items or EVs are. You have to get lucky to even see her at all. She is no more your rival than your Home Ec teacher is (no offense Saguaro, you're cool too). I think it's really, really sad.

I'm left nostalgic and pining to go back, having to cope through fanfic because my character can't spend the day with - or even so much as take a new trainer card photo with - the girl who said they might be her greatest treasure, without resetting my save, because she and the others are standing somewhere that the camera and internet features are both disabled.

Like, legitimately, I want to keep being friends with these kids the way we were before, and have the ability to do post-game stuff with them, like being able to go out and adventure together whenever in some basic, non-story capacity, or just, I don't know, maybe give them more than one line of dialogue in their rooms? I don't want a new region or new characters. Not yet, anyway.

I thought I was preordering the continuation of their story and rewarding the company for making me care about Pokemon so much again.

But, uh... I'm really worried that the people who own these characters do not care. And as I said on the trailer's comments before they turned them off (lol), I'll be pissed enough to not buy any more games if I'm right, and we're forced to abandon these poor kids. At the very least, it's some pretty garbage marketing to leave the possibility of that up in the air. If nothing else, that is a frustration that I'm going to keep talking about for a while, even if it ends up being fine.

I thought it was impossible, and I was being silly. Why not have our friends in cute new outfits as promo art when the DLC was first announced, and all they had was promo art? Seems like an easy slam dunk. Oh, they didn't yet? Well, I'm sure it'll happen eventually.

And then they weren't in the trailer either, months later. Are they trying to sell us on it or not?

The whole reason I want the DLCs. Still not a single word acknowledging them, just that little opening montage. Still no hints of how the DLCs have anything to do with Area Zero's ongoing story, either. How is a sea turtle linked with a landlocked crater?

So like... At this point I have to assume both DLCs start with you making your friends cry as they're left alone again, arbitrarily excluded from events they're more than qualified to be invited to, to make room for some new dweebs we don't need, who won't be given nearly enough time to be as compelling as Nemona, Arven, and Penny were, because that makes the trailer look more like a new game, and that's the only way they know how to advertise. More. New. Buy. Consume. Throw away. Buy. Consume. Throw away. I should assume this so that whatever we get can't be worse.

But they're probably not (self-aware enough / allowed / both) to write that. Your lonely / orphaned / anime-binging friends might just cheer you on for getting to go do something cool like being forced to train a new legendary because the story said so, then go back to being statues with as much relevance to your life as an NPC in a third story apartment that tells you what a hold item is.

Can't I just live in Paldea with my friends, in the version of the game we would have gotten if it was finished, instead of being pulled into these adventures for the sake of looking good in a trailer? (which it doesn't btw lol) It's not an unrealistic thing to want when that's what it briefly was, and I was so excited that it would keep being that I've been thinking about it this entire time.

...

I hope I'm wrong about all this, and next year I can look back on this post, happy that the DLC did actually allow us to continue to take care of these characters, conclude Area Zero's mysteries in a satisfying way, fix up some technical issues, let us relive some things that are currently once-only (including letting us see that photo album our character made but we had to screenshot ourselves), and make it fun to keep playing for years afterward, and let that be the model for games going forward, but uh...

They really are not showing me anything I care about in the game I desperately want to care about, that I saw - and wanted to defend - the heart in, despite the circumstances it was produced under, and that really worries and frustrates me. The surprisingly many great things about this game got my hopes up for an awesome postgame full of warm fuzzy feelings and cool things to do 8 months ago that just didn't deliver, and now, I'm not sure if they'll even let me pay for one, at this rate, because they're not advertising one.

Just throw us a scrap. If whoever's in charge here stops caring about this story, I won't care about the next one.

Anyone else feeling this?

[batmanego]

Re: Your post on struggling students - I don't want to assume what your experiences are but I am curious how you might critique or change special education specifically from your perspective. Asked as someone working in Special Ed studying for my certifications in ASD and emotional impairment.

Bonus points if your answer is actionable and not just a call for more resources/manpower. We know and I think in most settings even gen ed teachers are spread thin while by and large not having to worry about stuff like IEPs

while your tone in the last paragraph makes me think this is an over-defensive educator trying to defend the profession, i'll attempt to answer in good faith.

i wasn't a special ed student, nor did i ever say i was. in fact, my post was not even about just special education. it was more broadly about the abuses in the school system in general, and the isolation i and others have experienced for having non-typical high school experiences.

for the last five years, i've attended an alternative high school aimed primarily at disabled kids/kids with behavioral issues (a venn diagram with a lot of overlap, in my experience) -- essentially anyone who can't learn or function in a "normal" school environment. my experiences in a school aimed at and primarily populated by disabled students doesn't qualify me to talk about special education as a whole -- please take my thoughts on the matter with a grain of salt and ask people who were in special education and are willing to talk about it.

from what i've gathered, though, a major problem with special education is the isolation students experience from their peers. this is due to a number of factors (physical separation being one), and is made worse by the fact that special ed kids are looked down upon and ostracized by their peers. that's not... necessarily a fault of the educators, though i do think it should be the responsibility of parents and other adults in childrens' lives to educate them on the importance of kindness and respect towards disabled people.

there's also the problem of institutional abuse. sped kids are often abused by their teachers and are not believed and have little recourse. this is a problem in all education systems, but is often baked into special ed programs. i can't speak too much about this because, again, i am not in special ed. i have never been in special ed. i have friends who have been in special ed, and i am in a school primarily targeted at disabled/"difficult" students, but that is not a substitute for experience.

if any of my mutuals/followers with special education experience would like to chime in, please do! i'm not an expert and i love to learn.

[mermaidlighthouse]

This is the only time I will directly engage in the discourse around Izzy. 

I would like to propose a thought experiment. Are your perceptions of Izzy OR Ed and/or their relationship based SOLELY on canon (what we ACTUALLY see/hear on screen) or have you placed your assumptions of the relationship between them on that interpretation? What I mean to say is, did you decide that one of them was the instigator or the victim of the first blush of toxicity in their relationship? Did you decide that what we do actually see makes one or the other "worse"? Did you then extrapolate an opinion of either character (both?) based on that?

I ask because of course you did, that’s the nature of engaging with media, and because while we know they have a long history (years) canonically, there is no way for ANYONE in fandom to know how their relationship began or progressed. However, when we choose to base our assumptions on tropes whether they are of the biopic manager OR the oppressed second-in-command of the lunatic OR the spurned ex OR unrequited romantic love OR mentor/mentee or boss/employee power imbalance OR ANY trope it places a burden on the characters (BOTH Ed and Izzy) that the show does NOT address. This is headcanon and is perfectly fine (great even) but does not make it canon. The fact that many tropes could have viability is highly significant - it shows their relationship canonically is complicated.

For every "I egged him on for years even though I knew you'd outgrown him..." there's an "I need you here." For every "that's another toe" there's a "you've still got it." For every, I'm not actually going to tell you I have had a plan to get us out of this mess, that I technically got us into, this entire time because I'd rather watch you get angry and frustrated about not having a plan for surviving there's an "I should have let the English kill you". They both fed each other, impeded each other, hurt each other, they are tangled together (I mean this in an entirely platonic sense and why I keep saying Izzy functions narratively as an extension of Ed - and because like it or not Ed is the co-lead of the show - he matters more narratively).

At this point, we have the bare minimum of knowledge of their combined past and only TWO actual flashbacks of Ed BEFORE Izzy. We don’t know the dynamics of their past interactions/relationship. We don’t know how/WHY they have changed together and separately over this LONG ass time period. We don’t know the power fluctuations or lack thereof. It’s all whatever YOU perceive.

I am not saying that any interpretation or perception is better or worse than any other. 

I only ask that there be more nuance than X bad.

There are literally only 2 characters that I would classify as one-dimensional (Ricky and Nigel) EVERY other named character has more depth and motivations and it’s a disservice to the writers/creators/actors to flatten their characters because you don’t like an action they took/decision they made (even John Bartholomew is given more than a single note). 

In canon, BOTH Ed and Izzy are toxic to each other, that does not absolve either of their actions, but I will absolutely NOT engage in misery olympics. Attempting to litigate what constitutes as "more abusive" or "more toxic" is actually a disgusting approach to abuse and toxicity. You don't assign points to people's pain to determine that any party is better or worse off. This is especially the case because YOU DON’T KNOW what their past is; you have your interpretation and that’s fine but that does not condemn or absolve EITHER character. 

You don’t HAVE to like either of them or change your opinion of them. That’s not the point of this…the point is that EACH person in fandom is going to bring their unique perspective (which includes experiences, privileges, prejudices, and biases) and that means NO interpretation is the “correct” one. That’s the beauty of it. 

Fandom does not get to dictate to each other how to interpret a character but I would ask that we have a bit of maturity in allowing all the characters to have nuance and allow everyone their own perspective. Being critical of an aspect of a character doesn’t have to mean condemning them in their entirety.

This is not a justification to allow racism, misandry, classism, homophobia, ableism, misogyny, etc. to cloud your interpretations (those should be called out and if you can't or won't engage with how your version seems to stem from a privileged perspective then nothing I say is going to matter anyway).

As a side note, if you are willing to absolve one character of their actions because “It’s pirates Carol, of course they kill people” OR “it's called drama and creating tension” then you have NO leg to stand on in not giving that grace to ALL CHARACTERS.

The last thing I will say and I say it with love and compassion is this: no matter what you may or may not identify with in the show, this wasn’t created with you specifically in mind. As much as there are things that feel universal in all marginalized spaces, that doesn’t make it so. Please don’t invalidate other people’s experiences because they don’t conform with yours. The writers/creators/actors come from many marginalized groups and intersectionalities but they are also creating a show that has to have general appeal, they are not beholden to fandom ideas and spaces, we are not the ONLY audience. And being critical of your fave is not a condemnation of you.

[furiousgoldfish]

I’ve managed to move out (staying with my extended family rn) and even though I made it out of that environment, I still have so much wrong with me. Anxiety, depression, ocd, ed’s. Anxiety being my worst issue. Just started college online this month and I still feel like I’m far from functioning normally again. I don’t want to use what I went through as an excuse though. It’s been about a year and I just want to be normal and socialize and not obsess over problems that aren’t even there. The idea of relying on anyone scares me and I’m trying to be as independent as when I was younger but how can I do that when everything sends me into a spiral. I quit my first job four days in even though everything was perfect. I couldn’t eat or sleep or think straight. Still have to retake my permit test. It’s been the definition of crippling but I know I could do better. And I’m trying. How can I just move on? I’m so sick of trauma being my entire identity. Does therapy really work? But I’m scared of taking meds because of my ed. I’m beyond lost.

P.s. Your blog has been incredibly helpful throughout all of this. One of the only times I’ve felt understood. Thank you <3

Unfortunately, it's the worst of trauma that we deal with after moving away. It's not an excuse, and you can't force yourself to be okay after just one year. What is happening with you is a proof that you've been put thru severe trauma and that it's not something you can quickly heal. I understand it's endlessly frustrating, devastating, and feels hopeless that you can't act normal, can't be completely independent and you feel awful relying on others - that does feel horrible.

I believe that what you need is more time, and more support. Even if right now you can't handle having a job, it doesn't mean it will be this way forever. Even if right now everything feels wrong, it won't stay that way forever. Recovery happens slowly and you have to accept it's own terms, and not push yourself so hard it brings you hopelessness when it doesn't work out. I think you need a space where you only do things you feel comfortable and safe doing, and then when you're able to relax, you can expand that space so that more things are comfortable and safe. When you're coming from that kind of space, you can gain stability and feel more confident, and also make a better risk assessment in what is currently okay for you to try, without falling into despair if it doesn't work out.

Also people quit jobs, mess up tests, have to retake permits, struggle with taking meds, even without severe trauma, and it's fairly common. You're only feeling such strong guilt and shame over it because the trauma amplifies your every negative experience into a disaster. It doesn't mean you're a failure, and it doesn't mean it will always be this way. Don't lose hope, give yourself more time and patience, with time you will manage to do everything right.

Also, give yourself lots of credit for escaping abusive environment! That is a big step that a lot of people struggle for a long time to take, and it's something you did, that is pretty incredible! You already are doing everything right, you're only human, and you can do only as much as a human being in your situation can. You're doing the best you can.

[birlwrites]

I was wondering what Dumbledore's role as chief warlock of the wizegamot means in this universe?

ok the short boring answer is that i forgot that was a thing 😬

the LONG MORE INTERESTING answer is going to be me talking through how i can retcon that - which i absolutely can because we haven't really gotten into wizengamot politics in ttdl yet!!! so the only people who will know that i totally forgot will be the people who see this post afhslgkshkgjskhldjfs

SO. my immediate thought with 'chief warlock' is that dumbledore is kind of a master of ceremonies. he's not a wizengamot lord - his job is to introduce bills, hold the votes, and all sorts of things like that which are mainly ceremonial/logistic but in the hands of someone particularly motivated CAN be political tools. once again taking inspiration from the united states congress because i know how that works and i don't know how other governments work, dumbledore can control what order bills get introduced in, whether they get introduced in the first place, etc.

now, there's definitely a failsafe. the wizengamot would not stand for some plebeian controlling what they get to vote on. so if they can get together a critical mass of lords, they can force through a vote even if dumbledore doesn't want to introduce the bill. it means there's a tug of war between dumbledore and the dark lords for power

next question: how did dumbledore BECOME the chief warlock? my guess is that it's an appointed position by the minister of magic. at the moment, that's harold minchum, i believe, soon to be replaced by millicent bagnold (probably as the war gets worse). idk when exactly that will happen, i'll figure out a moment that works with the plot

dumbledore's been chief warlock for a WHILE, though. minchum reappointed him because he's functionally an institution. once he defeated grindelwald, plenty of people were calling for him to run for minister - he didn't do that because he's smarter than that, but he did accept the position of chief warlock when it was offered to him several years later, and that's a big part of how he stays in the public eye. (i think he probably also writes op-eds whenever there's something Sufficiently Important to write about)

in atfhv, wizengamot sessions happen twice a year, in fall and spring, and they run for exactly 2 months each (march 7 to may 7, september 7 to november 7). in that time, dumbledore's quite busy, seeing as he has that AND a school to run. plus a war to fight.

and that means that orion knows dumbledore PERSONALLY. as does pretty much the whole wizengamot, and not just because they were students when dumbledore was a professor

which now makes me really want to have orion do a take your child to work day in which regulus casually shows up to a wizengamot session and stares dumbledore down the entire time. the dark lords are pleased with this behavior. he clearly knows who the enemy is

[sassydefendorflower]

hey rora 7, 17, and 37 (no pressure tho :smek: )

Roma!!! Hell yeah!!! (and put the pressure on -smek-)

7. Any worldbuilding you’re particularly proud of?

That's an evil question and you know it ;D Well... let's see where I shall begin.

There is, of course, i am apart (everything is connected) - i put a lot of thought into the worldbuilding for that fic. The idea of the belief system of the person influencing their metaphysical connection to the universe and as such alchemy and alkahestry was something I created for this fic, even if it has since firmly morphed into a general headcanon. This fic is also doing some stuff politics-wise that I really like - some of it is more subtle, like the hints on how I imagine the Imperial Court System in Xing to function, and some of it is more overt: the real troubles of slowly changing a country and returning to peace after years and years of war.

I am also deeply proud of my worldbuilding in an undertaking of deconstruction - more commonly called the Eastern Liberation Front AU. Because in this I get to play around with background characters, their world views, and the workings of an anti-establishment movement. My POV character (mostly Ed) doesn't see the world in all it's complexities, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. If anything, this is something that allows me to explore Scar's backstory, Shou Tucker, and even Roy and Riza's relationship through a different lens - and with that comes a lot of worldbuilding and geopolitics :D

But I can also mix it up with a bit of DC! A Constellation of Complications is a cyberpunk space-noir case fic in which Dick Grayson, bar owner and spy, has to solve a series of cyborg murders. This fic was a lot of fun to create because it deals with the question "what is a human? what is a person? and what is a cyborg?" only to fundamentally decide: it is all arbitrary but the system is so broken, we have to act within it. The laws are unjust, society broken, and yet... our protagonists can't escape those definitions and secrets and consequences. Lots of fun with that worldbuilding for SURE!

17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?

-sobs in my pillow in sorrow-

I mean... the Eastern Liberation Front AU is right there. This AU is so large and detailed in my head... I could write a thousand fics about and it would still not be enough. Especially since the fandom doesn't seem to share my unadulterated joy about... Ed and Al as "terrorists" and enemies of the state.

But there is more! Of course! Roy and Riza reaching their goal and then having to deal with facing the consequences of their actions - in a way that respects the good they did since then, but really delves into the nitty-gritty of "some things are just unforgivable"... and that deals with how liking someone makes it hard for the people around them to acknowledge their faults and misgivings and that that's--- okay. This one is truly more a vibe AU than anything else...

Super specific and somewhat cringe.... The five sacrifices get teleported to 1915 Europe instead when Father tries to teleport them to his lair - and now they are in our world, in the middle of a war, without alchemy (Shamballa-style). BUT what makes this AU way weirder and funkier and niche... the Truth basically sent them there with a "once you manage to find a way how to stop father sucessfully, i'll get you back but I really don't want father to eat me so.... have fun" and now the five sacrifices are immortal... (or something similar enough) and stuck in a different time/world. And then... this somehow turned into a Marvel/FMAB crossover? As in Roy and the Elrics are involved in the Super Solider Program, but the Elrics leave because they don't actually want to help any government at all, and they then just travel the world, join universities, and make low scale trouble until in 2014 the Avengers notice a similar heat signature from some files in 1915 and search for them to figure out what the fuck is going on.

Is this specific enough? :D

37. Promote one of your own “deep cut” fics (an underrated one, or one that never got as much traction as you think it deserves!). What do you like about it?

Hm... to stay on the FMAB train... Hero Of The People, the second part of my Eastern Liberation Front AU. It's the Shou Tucker incident but in an alternate universe in which Ed and Al never joined the military. Instead, they end up at Shou Tucker's place after one of their informants tells them about his library - they have to be sneaky because Roy and Riza are hot on their tails after Ed almost killed Hawkeye during an alteration in a train, and Nina is a breath of fresh air (but we all know how that story ends).

I like it a lot because it plays around with Ed being a lot more angry and unrefined than he is in canon - and yet he and Al still want to save little girls and learn how to change the laws of the world. They are the same, and yet their different story changed them and the world around them. Also... Scar's there and that encounter does indeed go very different than it does in canon.

I don't know--- I just have an eternal soft spot for that story and the world it is set in.

Thank you SO MUCH ROMA!!! <3<3<3

[ask me a question for fic writers]

[enthusispastic]

so what do you teach? why did you choose it? how did you get there? what do you love/hate about it? i’m also a teacher (preschool) trying to figure out my path

I currently teach mostly middle school science, though I have also taught high school biology and other life/earth sciences and high school theater and speech. I chose these subjects because I love them deeply. I chose to teach middle school and high school because teenagers are really cool people and working with them is very rewarding to me. They can connect with the subject on a deep and amazing level and can connect between subjects in a really cool way. Plus they're just cool and fun and funny.

I got into teaching in a really conventional way. I went to college for education and got my BS in secondary ed in my subjects. I was already planning to do science, but I got into theater during college and added that one later in my college career. Since I went to a religious school and started my career in religious private school, they had a call/placement program and that's how I got my first job. After stuff at my first school got shitty and we moved back to my wife's hometown, I applied to my current school and got the job because my arts background set me apart for their program (arts integration focus).

I LOVE working with kids. It's an energy drain to be sure, but the everyday functions of teaching lessons, organizing labs, working with students, and heck even grading are all somewhere between fine and awesome. If that was all there was I'd love it. My current school has a huge community of neurodiverse kids and nerds of every stripe and staying connected to a community of young neurodiverse, queer, and artsy nerd kids by default of the job is heartwarming to say the least. I love seeing kids grow, and the "lightbulb" moments almost make me feel like maybe I don't want to quit at the end of this year. But...

I CANNOT continue teaching though, because that's not all there is. Important and necessary functions of the job that are extraneous to classroom teaching pull me down so bad. I can't keep up with lesson plan documentation, differentiation documentation, constant staff meetings, IEP/504 meetings that pull me out of class, curriculum development, politely kissing admin ass (moreso at my last school than current) to keep my job safe, dealing with parent demands and complaints, keeping up school communication culture, preparing materials for various conferences and showcases, attending school events to "support a culture of school spirit" and every other thing that teaching does to eat your life whole. My disability (ADHD) definitely plays a part here, but even if I did have a typical brain, teaching is a career where you have to give up your own life and individuality, and do it for an audience of people who are VERY often not remotely grateful for it, or only performatively grateful one/two weeks per year. Admin and parents all want to tell teachers how to do their jobs despite limited or no experience, and that's another kind of exhausting. Kids may be cool, but they're also people who are learning their social stuff, and a lot of times that means that they don't know how to be kind or respectful or decent to teachers. I try to be patient and respectful about it and guide them to understanding, but through no fault of the kids' that is not something that a teacher can do 5 days a week for months and not feel like we're dying.

Anyway I hope that helps you. It certainly helped me to put it all out there.

[piperjistic]

Unknown force

HMS Piranha

Log #345

“This is the relaunched Zero Hannu model. We had a successful launch and on course to the Dali sector. This is the official HMS Piranha log. Dated XX.XX.XX23. All systems functional, all crew mates accounted for and in healthy condition. All supplies accounted for and routes have been set. Finally this ship is back to working order and can go back to duties. Captain Jarv.”

Canis taps enter again, another page flickers.

Each page had a date, it range to maybe a year or two. This is good, no it’s more than good— it’s great.

Canis was surprised by the machine still being intact. It would of been impossible to truly tell the age of the database if it wasn’t functioning unless there was another technological advancement. And that definitely isn’t happening for a long time. But from the looks of it, it can’t be too long ago since it seems partly compatible with the ships power supply. After plugging up the adapter cube and switching the cables on, it crackled to life, ready to be explored.

“XX.XX.XX23. System report, stable after entering Dali sector. Scanners picked up meteor wave and personnel responded accordingly. Correlates with incident report #220. Click number for details. No serious injuries, just scratches on a few personnel and ship misalignment. Navigator core and inner DIV %100 function and realigned ship. YTP accidentally sent out signal, but was quickly cancelled. Power core….”

She taps out of log. Orion’s sake, Canis didn’t believe there would be even a few system reports and incident reports. Usually those are saved separately, not in-tandem. Maybe the brand could be found from the logs, and if that didn’t work then it could be id-ed through the Captain Database, she have a name now. Captain Jarv, right?

“Captain Jarv. Captain of HMS Piranha. Served 15 years. Disappeared on the HMS Piranha. Known for his loyalty to his crew, birthday parties, and inability to complete any Hidden Picture Puzzles.”

Canis chuckled, feeling a smile creeping on her lips and new energy spreading to her finger tips, itching to click more. She couldn’t help it. To find a lost log, is rare, omega rare. Space destroys what isn’t contained and perfectly engineered without warning or even a peep. And to find logs intact, it’s exhilarating.

She sighs and turns back towards the decrepit monitor. Canis can’t lie, she is a bit of a history buff and loves to find tidbits of the past lives. Like the Jello age of Armica, it was a great period of combining cultures with any destruction of cultural property. It’s mostly goes under the radar but the book she was crafting could maybe change that. Anyway— back to the logs.

“XX.XX.XX24. Happy Birthday Kati! Today is Crewmate Kati E’s Birthday. Which was celebrated in the main hall blasted in glitter. Better than the fxckin white paste. We got her choco-berry, it’s her favorite and made sure she got her padded to her liking. She LOVE IT. Invited over captains and crews, made sure there was enough gas for water conversion and wine! Left at least two people sober. P.S. I wasn’t one of them. And I don’t know if anyone was left a virgin too. Captain Juicy Jarv.”

Ah!~ With these that tell details of a crew, what their lives were life, what their goals was, what technology did they have, how they acted. Even if it’s a sliver of it. It’s worth it.

Though the smile flatters, the captain frowns grimly. It’s a shame the ship went missing though… Hmm… Maybe hints of the cause of the disappearance could be at the end of the logs. She rapidly clicks, tap and scrolls, finding a few entries. The screen flickers, as if the information within these files is too precious to bear.

“XX.XX.XX24. Scanners picked up something. Small, invisible to the naked eye of space, involves gravitational pull to the sub dwarf in Dali sector. Faint signals discovered lead to it. This could be responsible for assignment change. Collection team headed out and was able to collect it. Research team is brimming with excitement with new specimen. Seems dormant. Logs of research will be sent to HMS institute as requested. Processed pictures has been sent to HMS map division as well. Soon we’ll reach target bound and will return. Captain Jarv.”

So this was a research shuttle. Never heard of any research involving this sector. But it makes sense, Canis nodding to the idea after giving it some thought. Lots of meteors came from that area, valuable ore. The ore isn’t only native to this sector but is fairly supplied. Maybe it connects to another sector with transmission. This sector really hasn’t been explored now that she thought about it. Ships tend to travel its outskirts. Occasionally, some travel its mid-outskirts outskirts, never the center. But if they had the tech, then it makes sense for institutions to finally start marking the territory. She double taps on the link, a picture popping up in its place.

“Incident Report. XX.XX.XX24. Injured Party: Steph Cuevas, Crewmate Saturn. ID# 1561317. Area of accident: Converse Hall; near bio tank. Incident Description: Saturn was attacked by escaped asset from the bio tank in Converse Hall as she was passing by. Witnessed by CM Dill & Morar. Action Taken/Treatment Administered: Saturn was taken to medbay for treatment. Hazard crew was deployed in search of escaped asset & to discard remenents of asset on/around Saturn. Follow up Action: Saturn and their health will be monitored for 20 cycles to ensure safety & health. They will be isolated for stmtoms for 5 cyxles. Rements of asset found near airlock & was contained seems is less active/responsive. Maybe looking for food? Starving? Will update more reports as time goes on. Signed by CM Neal. SHARED.”

She taps to the end. Her heart drops. A week. The last record is a week after the incident.

“SOS again. Half the ship destroyed, teared through. Escape pods are on other side of ship. Half the cree dead. I failed them. But I can still protect the rest. I’ll be the distraction while they get their suits and into the pods. Captain Jarv.

He’s gone. It won we lost and now it’ll kill the rest of us fuck Fuck FUCK FUCK Please someone anyone one please pleas e please plew ae”

Canis taps the key again, this time the escape key. It was too much. She massages her temple with her fingers. Dear Hydra. What the Orion did they find and how did it tear apart the ship? Fuck, where is it now?

“This is SC Canis, proceed with caution. Alert future ships about the Adaliah sector and near by sectors. Notify the nearest capital. Better safe than sorry, will clarify… later.”

She pushes away from the dashboard, double tapping her badge’s comm off and strides out, towards the cafe hall. Hopefully there’s coffee ready for her. She’s going to need it.

Spaceships have been disappearing in deep space for unknown reasons. One day the log of one lost ship is found.

[thornwolfy235]

WIP 2 - Dancing

I'm going to post a bunch of WIPs in a row now. maybe with a little feedback I'll get the gumption to finish one of them.

A bit of info on them first. I wrote all of these in an effort to deal with an exceptionally bad break-up (might as well call it a divorce, we lived together for 6 years). A lot of these are "how it should've gone" type stuff. I was never able to decide if they should be a full chapter by chapter "novel" or just a bunch of oneshots within the same universe and make a collection of them in order or whatever. Maybe I'll drop them to Ao3 as well. They are all xfem!Readers with my blorbos Grillby and Gaster (though most have no anatomy mentioned, so you can safely read no matter what gender you are). I'd appreciate a glance through if nothing else.

This one is of fem!Reader in a developed poly relationship with Grillby and Gaster (returned from the Void). Reader is very self-conscious about dancing, and the boys help her out. Again, female pronouns are used, but it's not heavily gendered so anyone can read with minor mental substitutions.

“And that should do it,” Gaster muttered.

You looked over from where you were working on the next section of a mural (a snowy scene in honor of Snowdin Town) above Grillby’s alcohol shelves to watch one slightly-droopy skeletal Monster unfold from the uncomfortable crouch he had been in behind the ancient jukebox. He sometimes reminded you of a tree; thin, all limbs, and impossibly tall. He stretched (only adding to the tree imagery), sighing as his spine popped. “How long do you think this repair will last?” you asked with a smirk.

“Not long enough,” he replied, giving the jukebox a stern look. “There are days I wonder if it breaks down just to mock me. Former Royal Scientist, and I can’t even keep a simple music player in working order.”

“I’m sure it would be happier if we could get the right parts for it. Now if only we knew what those were,” you said, turning back to your work. If you could just get the highlight on this pine branch right, you’d also be a lot happier…

Gaster mumbled something, making you snicker. As much as he grouched, you knew he’d happily play handyman as often as needed for Grillby’s sake.

‘Grillby’s’ had been in business on the Surface for just over a year, and his beloved, cobbled-together jukebox remained a staple in the corner just as it had in the Underground. You believed the shell was mostly that of a Rock-Ola Luxury Light while the interior mechanism was Frankenstein-ed from a Wurlitzer OMT-CD changer and several car stereos, but it was made from so many countless odds and ends that had found their way into the Underground that it was impossible to know for sure. Honestly, it was no surprise when it didn’t work and a miracle when it did. Grillby adored the thing and would never replace it nor let it be gutted and retrofitted with something more modern (sentimentality generally won out over practicality with him), which meant you, Sans, or Alphys were tasked with reviving when it inevitably broke down every few weeks. It had been slightly better behaved since Gaster’s…‘return’ four or so months ago, but it still liked to kick up a fuss, finding ever more creative ways to stop functioning, seemingly just to keep the skeleton on his toes.

The mural was a recent idea. Grillby had always felt that top of the shelving was too bare, but was reluctant to put anything up there that he would have to regularly dust. You’d suggested some pictures, Gaster had jumped in with the idea of a mural, and then somehow your Monster beaus had convinced you to get up on a ladder and do it yourself. You could handle the height as long as you didn’t look straight down. At all. (Your knees still shook when you remembered you were not standing on the floor and it took a few moments of deep breathing to get them to stop.)

“I believe I have this beast in working order, for now at least,” Gaster answered grumpily.

The “‘Fire’ Exit” opened, and Grillby came in with another tray of pint glasses from the dishwasher. “How are things coming along out here?” he asked, setting it on the bar to put the glasses away.

“It certainly is finicky,” Grillby said fondly. “And how about you?” A warm hand gently tapped your leg.

“Fine,” you answered shortly, thought it was not actually ‘fine’ in your opinion. You added a touch more yellow to the mix for the highlight and went to try again.

A sudden, loud scraping sound made you jump, dropping your paintbrush and palette in favor of clinging onto the ladder for dear life. “Sorry, sorry!” Gaster yelped, the noise stopping as abruptly as it had started. You felt pressure on your back and on your arm. Glancing at your arm, you found one of Gaster’s summoned hands gripping your bicep. What you felt on your back was probably another, the pair helping to keep you steady. “Sorry,” he said again, sheepishly this time. “I was attempting to push the beast back into place since I still can’t lift it. I should have warned you first.”

You blew out a long sigh. “Please tell me I didn’t scream.”

“You didn’t scream,” Grillby said far too cheerfully.

You looked down and immediately wished you hadn’t as a wave of vertigo hit you. You shut your eyes and went back to clinging. “Sorry for dropping everything on you,” you said once you were sure your voice wouldn’t squeak. “Nothing got on you, did it?”

“All’s well. I caught them,” he answered. You carefully looked down again, making sure to look at him and not the floor. He had indeed somehow caught both the brush and the palette without a drop of paint on him or anything else.

“Reflexes of a cat,” you muttered.

He shrugged, grinning. “What can I say; bar tricks keep me in practice.” The smile waned, flames dipping slightly. “Why don’t you take a break? You’ve been working on that for a while.”

You looked back at the mural and sighed. “In a bit. There’s just a few more things I want to get right before stopping for the night.” You held out a hand for your things back.

“You said that before Wings got here, and again just before he started working on the jukebox. You really should take a break. Give your eyes and your hand a rest, hm?”

“Just this one highlight, please? I almost have it right.”

“I’m holding your brush and paint hostage. Come down. You’re taking a break,” Grillby said flatly.

“…Meanie.”

“Yes, I am truly the cruelest Monster in existence,” he said with a merry crackle.

Slowly, one rung at a time, you came down the ladder, Gaster’s summoned hand still reassuringly on your back. You could’ve melted the moment your feet touched the floor. “Oh, terra firma, I’ve missed you so,” you sighed lovingly, gazing at the worn planks.

The elemental snorted, giving your hair an affectionate ruffle as he handed you your brush and palette. “Go wash these while I help Wings get the ‘beast’ back where it belongs.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Or I could go back up and finish that section off now that I have everything back,” you said with a mischievous smirk.

“You won’t. Your legs are still shaking,” Grillby said over his shoulder as he rounded the bar counter.

You watched the two Monsters dance. They moved easily, elegantly through the steps of some form of ballroom dance – foxtrot, maybe? – as though they had done it hundreds of times before. Maybe they had, now that you thought about it, forgotten during the time that Gaster was…‘missing,’ but now remembered. Grillby’s flames were vibrant orange and yellow, laughing as Gaster spun him out, then back to his chest. Gaster caught him and nuzzled his cheek, his own colored with a soft lavender blush. There was a pang in your chest. You wanted to dance, too…

You huffed, because of course he was right, and went to the bathroom to wash/scrape the paint off of yourself and everything else.

((needs stuff))

But you couldn’t. It just wasn’t a thing that was possible, at least not with them. You would just end up looking like an idiot and ruining their fun. It would be better to just keep quiet. At least you still could enjoy their happiness.

The song ended and the next began. They kissed before parting to give each other a silly, theatrical bow, still riding high on their shared fun. And then Gaster turned to you, holding out a hand. “May I have the next dance, starshine?” he asked, giving you a bow of your own. Grillby looked you expectantly, still grinning wildly from his own.

Crap. You forced a smile as you waved the hand away. “No, I’m fine. You guys can continue.”

“Nonsense! There’s no need to be left out,” he laughed.

Except you shouldbe. Dancing wasn’t something for you to do, but denying him would disappoint him, and accepting would only prove him wrong. No matter how you answered, you were going to let him down. “I’m…still shaky from being up on the ladder. Legs are tired from holding me up for so long, you know?” you tried dodging the invitation again.

“Is that so? Are you sure you aren’t being shy?” Gaster teased, flexing his outstretched hand in a beckoning motion, unaware of your mounting anxiety. “It’s just us, dearest. Come, dance with me.”

“I-I don’t know how to,” you said, feeling your expression falter. You saw Grillby’s flames dim out of the corner of your eye, catching your mood-shift.

“…Pardon?” Gaster’s face fell as he straightened, clearly puzzled by your response.

“Then I’ll teach you!”

Your smile left completely. “You can’t,” you said softly, hugging yourself.

Grillby, however, knew where your thoughts were heading. Worriedly, he put a hand on your shoulder. “Sweet spark, no. Whatever he told you, you know it isn’t true, and you knowit isn’t what we think.”

Gaster’s eyelights darted to Grillby and back. “Starshine, what’s wrong?”

You took a breath, trying to force down the hurt inside you. You reached up to grip Grillby’s fingers. “It’s just something my…my ex-fiancé told me.” The silence stretched between the three of you. You didn’t want to admit what was wrong to them; it was stupid, it was pointless, it didn’t matter…

You started talking to fill the silence. “H-he said he knew how to dance, and in lots of different styles, too. I always wanted to dance with him, but he told me we couldn’t because I didn’t know how. So I asked him to teach me, but he said it wasn’t possible. We couldn’t even go to a class or something together because I…He told me I was too short, said he couldn’t dance with someone so much smaller than him, even if I know how to. And whenever I asked if we could just do that hug-and-sway thing, he’d just dismiss as not actually dancing. So we just…didn’t dance,” you said without looking at them, feeling the tears welling up. You’d meant stop talking there – surely they’d think the rest of the story was pointless and whiny and you were dumb for still being hung up on it – but the words kept coming. “A-and after…a-after he cheated on me and then tried to keep both of us, h-he would tell…t-tell me how he would dance with them.” You bit your lip hard, hoping to keep it from trembling. You were ashamed of yourself; ashamed of the memories that still haunted you, ashamed that they still hurt as much as they did, and ashamed for ruining Gaster’s and Grillby’s good mood.

Grillby pulled his hand from yours to wrap his arms around you. “Oh, spark, is this why you’ve never –”

“What a preposterous thing to tell someone! You couldn’t dance with him?!” Gaster cried, flinging his arms out in disbelief as he began pacing, agitation making it impossible for him to stand still. “Not to mention rude and callous! And then this-this imbecile bragged about dancing with someone else?! The more I find out about this person, the more appalled by him I am!” He whirled back to face you. “How did you ever put up with this behavior for so long?!” You cringed guiltily, the first tears escaping.

“Gentle, birdwing. She’s hurting,” Grillby said softly, tucking you under his chin as though he could hide you away from the memories.

“Well, of course she is! What a horrid thing to have been told by someone you love! You can’t dance – Everyone can dance!” Gaster charged on before Grillby’s words sank in. His gaze locked onto you, sharp eyelights fuzzing at the edges, posture softening as he took in the look on your face. “Oh! Oh, starshine… I’m sorry for yelling. It was not directed at you. There is no reason at all that you couldn’t learn to dance, even from me. Stars, I don’t even mind if you don’t want to learn. We can just…‘hug-and-sway,’ as you put it. To be together and happy is what matters,” he said gently as he came back to you.

“But I’m so much smaller –”

“That doesn’t matter, either. Grillby is shorter than I am, and we just had a lovely dance.”

“And I’m shorter than him! It…i-it just wouldn’t work, okay?!” you snapped before curling in on yourself, eyes fixed firmly on the floor, humiliated by your outburst. “I-I’m sorry for getting upset. I shouldn’t have said anything. J-just…forget about it.”

“Now, none of that! Anyone can dance with anyone. Come,” Gaster said sharply, clearly done with your self-depreciating. He held out a hand to you again. You looked at it as though it might bite you.

Grillby gave you a gentle squeeze. “You’ll be okay, spark. I learned how to dance from Wings as well.” He lowered his head and whispered into your ear, “He likes using fancy words, but he is a good teacher. He’ll take care of you.”

Gaster shot the elemental a look. “I may not have ears, but I’m not deaf,” he said, though his tone was considerably softer than the authoritative bark it just was. “But he is right, star,” he continued, gaze moving back to you. “I want nothing more than for you to enjoy this. I do not expect perfection, nor will it make me happy. Seeing you happy is what will make me happy. I’ll even refrain from using any ‘fancy words.’ So…may I have this dance?”

You shouldn’t – it could only end badly – but you hesitantly stepped out of Grillby’s arms and put your hand in the skeleton’s. His fingers closed around yours and he led you to the center of the floor. You were shaking, feeling like the entire world was watching you, judging you. You wanted to hide from those imagined, spiteful eyes. You couldn’t do this. You weren’t coordinated like Grillby or graceful like Gaster. You weren’t elegant. You could barely walk straight on a good day. You were a klutz – you had the bruises you didn’t remember getting to prove it. You were going to fail, you were going to let them down, you were –

Abruptly, thin, boney arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. Your glasses were taken from you before a hand pushed your face into the soft sweater before you. You inhaled the slight ozone-and-old-book smell that always seemed to cling to Gaster as a choked gasp escaped you despite your efforts to avoid crying. You twitched with nervous energy, everything screaming at you to just spare everyone the trouble and the misery and run, but the skeleton held you still, steady. A soft kiss was placed on the top of your head. “Breathe, little star. I have you, and Grillby is but a few steps away. We are here with you. All is well,” he murmured into your hair.

“I-I can’t do this. I’m just an embarrassment waiting to happen, I-I’m going to ruin everything. I’m ruining everything right now!” you mumbled into his sweater, fingers digging into the soft fibers.

“You are not ‘ruining’ anything, and you aren’t an embarrassment, I promise,” he said calmly. “Let’s see…You are going to feel awkward and clumsy for most of this. You are going to trip over your own feet and likely mine. You are going to lose count or tempo with the music at some point. You are going to miss at least one cue I give you. In other words, you are going to do just fine for a beginner. You will make mistakes, and they will be the same mistakes everyone else who was learning to dance has ever made.”

A warm hand touched your shoulder. “If you’re feeling self-conscious, would it help if I left the room?” Grillby asked softly. You peeked out from Gaster’s chest to look at the elemental. His flames burned a dull red-orange, and though he was currently blurry, you knew his head was tilted with concern.

“No…no, don’t go. I-I just…I’m just going to be a mess to watch,” you said, returning to your hiding spot.

“I believe that would fall into the ‘clumsy’ category,” Gaster teased gently, rubbing small circles between your shoulder blades. He held you tight, keeping you grounded, until you were finally able to look up into his face. He was smiling, eyelights large and fuzzy, full of love and understanding. “Are you alright?” You took a shaky breath but nodded. “Listen to me, starshine, if you really do not want to try dancing with me, I won’t force you. I do think it would be good for you to try, but I won’t make you if you are that uncomfortable with it,” Gaster said, wiping away an errant tear with his thumb.

You sighed. “No…you’re right. I should try. A-and I do want to dance, I’m just…scared.”

“I know, and that’s alright.” He kissed your forehead before the summoned hand that had stolen your glasses gave them back. He looked to Grillby. “Skyfire, would you find us something in three-quarter time? I think a waltz would be the easiest place to start.” Grillby nodded and went hunting through the jukebox’s song list while Gaster turned his attention back to you. “Now, left hand on my shoulder, or upper arm if that is more comfortable. Your right hand stays in my left, while my right hand goes around your back,” Gaster instructed, guiding you into position.

((needs events))

Gaster sent you out in a spin, and you found yourself laughing along with him. Your anxiety and stress were simply gone. You felt free and pretty and…and elegant. You were dancing!He brought you back  and pulled you close, leading you through a few more steps before dipping you. He had turned you just right so you could see Grillby when he tipped you back. The elemental gave a little cheer, clapping his hands before holding them close to his chest as he practically vibrated with happiness, his flames a beautiful yellow.

Gaster brought you back up, bright, fuzzy eyelights meeting yours just as your vision blurred. For the second time that evening, a summoned hand stole away your glasses as he pulled you close, cradling your head to his chest as your tears soaked into his sweater. You sobbed, clinging to him as though he might suddenly abandon you. “It’s alright, starshine. I have you,” he cooed, tightening his grip on you.

Heat pressed against your back as Grillby put his arms around you and Gaster both, trapping you between their bodies. “We’re here, sweet spark. Everything’s okay,” he murmured, kissing the back of your neck.

“I-I’m s-sorry! I’m s-so sorry! Wh-when did – I-I can’t –” you mewled only to be shushed by them both.

“You are not in trouble. Let it out,” Gaster soothed, rhythmically petting your head.

“We aren’t going anywhere,” Grillby promised, kissing your neck again.

You took several heaving gasps, trying to get the tears under control, but it didn’t do much other than make you feel light headed as well. “I-I don’t under–I-I’m happy, I am, why am I crying? Why can’t I stop?! I-I feel…f-feel…I-I can’t –”

“Glad, sad, mad, or bad?” Grillby asked suddenly.

“What?” Gaster asked, completely baffled.

“Later,” Grillby waved Gaster’s question away. “Sweet spark, look at me. Look at me.” It was hard to pull yourself away from Gaster’s chest, wanting to stay small and hidden, but at the elemental’s firm tone you managed to twist around to look at him. Dull orange burned a little brighter. “There you are…Do you feel glad, sad, mad, or bad?” He had to repeat the question once more before the words finally got through to you.

“G-glad. I-I got to dance w-with someone who loved me,” you stuttered. You swallowed hard. “And…and I’m sad that…it t-took so long t-to do it. A-and…” Your lips curled into a snarl. “M-mad that m-my…that he made me f-feel like I couldn’t…” The grimace fell away as quickly as it had arrived. “A-a-and bad that I-I’m still letting myself b-be controlled by th-the past...”

A cool hand brushed away your tears. Startled by the contact, you looked back up at the tall skeletal Monster. “All perfectly valid things to feel,” Gaster said softly.

Shame came to the forefront of your mind. “It’s been more than a year since he left, and I’m still letting him control me…I-I thought I was doing better…I thought I had moved on…”

“It is hard to unlearn things you have been taught to believe. You may have been separated from him for over a year now, but you were with him for six before that and engaged. He was important enough to you that you were going to spend your life with him. Of course the things he told you are going to linger,” he answered, curling down to kiss you. “You have been doing better, starshine. You haven’t been set off by any of your old triggers for several months now. When something small cropped up, you were able to work through it on your own. And for the big ones, like this? You have let us help you with them. As with any sort of pain, recovery takes time, and you are going to have set backs. You work through them, you learn, and you heal. If anyone here knows that, it’s me.”

He gave you a sad smile, which you returned weakly, knowing full well the twists his own ‘recovery’ had taken, and that they likely weren’t over with, either. You stood on your toes to kiss him (which he still had to lean down to meet, the frickin’ tree). “Thank you…a-and you’re right.”

“I always am,” he teased, taking your hands in his and squeezing them.

Grillby rested his chin on your shoulder. “I’m sorry I didn’t catch this sooner, sweet spark. I thought your aversion to dancing was simply due to self-consciousness or disinterest. In both cases, I didn’t think pushing the matter would be useful. I didn’t realize the problem ran deeper than that.”

“Don’t be sorry. I-I wasn’t exactly sharing anything with you, either.”

“Hmm…Why didn’t you tell me? We could’ve been dancing all this time.”

You stiffened. “I-I’m sorry, I-I-I should’ve known better,” you stammered, anxiety rising again.

“Shh-shhh, I’m not scolding you. I’m not angry, or even disappointed. I want to understand why you felt you had to hide this.”

“I-I…I was scared you’d turn me down, too,” you admitted.

“When have I ever turned down something you’ve wanted to try?” he asked, nuzzling you.

You sniffled, pressing your cheek harder against his. “I-I know…I don’t…I-I don’t know why I thought you might with this…Besides, i-it just…it wasn’t important enough to ask…”

You felt his jaw tighten, and you realized there was the echo of an old struggle in those words. “Was it that, or was it because you didn’t think you were important enough to ask?”

Sighing, you leaned your weight back against him. “You’re…not entirely wrong. Everything…everything with you was – is – so different from what I was used to. It was…amazing to feel listened to, and feel thought about and appreciated, and I was afraid of messing that up by asking something…something that you might think was dumb, or be told the same thing again a-and just have…have something he told me get confirmed by you.” You took a breath, closing your eyes. “A-and if he was right about something as insignificant as dancing, then he might be right about the other things he told me, more important things, things that…” Your voice quivered. “…that would make me unworthy of you. Th-things that might make you decide to leave. And as our relationship grew, and then Gaster got added in, I just…buried the desire to dance and forgot about it because it wasn’t important enough to wreck things over.”

“But dancing was important to you. And it would have been important to me as well, because you are important to me,” the elemental said. “I wish…I do wish you weren’t so worried about what I’d think if you asked me things, but I also understand the fear. You were told to repress your wants and feelings or be judged for them for so long. I understand how those thoughts can get ingrained in your mind.”

You hummed in agreement. “I-I’m sorry that I still have stuff to work through.”

He kissed your temple. “But you are working through them, just like Gaster said. That’s the most important thing. But if you really feel you need to make it up to me, you can give me this next dance.”

(needs events)

“You’re a natural! A few more lessons and we could go to a dance hall!” Gaster called.

You whirled to face him. “Oh, please, no!” you squeaked in horror. Both Monsters burst out laughing.

[thefinalweightlossblog]

The final first post

CW: eating disorder, recovery, health anxiety, chronic disease management and health complications, weight loss goal setting

Almost exactly 15 years ago, I came home from college and experienced my first major holiday as a newly "recovered" person. Lucky me, the holiday was Thanksgiving. Equally a comfort and a terror, I spent the summer fighting the eating disorder that had nearly claimed my life. This thing that had been my primary form of coping for nearly seven years was suddenly gone, and I was no longer on the verge of collapsing for the final time.

My heart rate was no longer in the 30s, my blood pressure was readable again, and I did not have to take over 60 pills daily (mainly supplements and let's-help-you-digest-this-since-your-organs-can't capsules). Nothing can prepare for the shadow of intense fear that follows closely behind a doctor's proclamation that "you will not live to see 20 if you fail here." So, I fought with everything I had, and I got to see my twenties.

When I moved back to my hometown right before my 29th birthday, a decade after I was discharged from my inpatient ED program, I revisited the hospital that saved my life and vowed to stay true to that promise I made myself all those years ago. I took the photo above, now as a 29-year-old woman, remembering that 19-year-old girl who gave everything to see the future. I was excited about my thirties and dedicated to making changes in my life to honor that girl. Sometimes we lose parts of ourselves along the way, and I was determined to prioritize her more in my 30s than I had in my 20s.

It seemed obvious at first, and it was. Cut out toxic one-sided "friendships," follow your heart and adjust your career path, believe in others but trust your gut, don't fall into bad habits of being too giving and forgiving. Breathe, believe, work hard. Question, remain curious, wonder. Try, fail, try again. It all came naturally, until it didn't. The lovely thing they are quick to tell you in inpatient is that, even if you "fully recover" (whatever that is), you will have permanent organ damage and health complications. So, I did know that, and I did my best to continuously improve my health. But. I was not prepared for 2020 and all that would happen.

On March 3, 2020, I was the healthiest I had been in my entire life. I was confident that I could get back to my 20-minute 5K with enough conditioning, and I had even signed up for my first half.

By September 2020, I had gained over 50 pounds and could barely walk without issues. I forgot how quickly my body would interpret stress and panic as a full-scale assault that would destroy every aspect of my metabolic functioning. I had only experienced that once before, and somehow it wasn't anywhere near as bad as this.

Four years later, I have names for my new chronic conditions and a better understanding of the "chronic low-grade inflammation" that will give me even more diseases if I do not act now.

I am no longer a teenager, or in my twenties, and soon enough I will be closer to 40 than 30. The time to take control of my health is now.

In a strange and absolutely fear-inducing sequence of events, the fate of my future health is dependent on my ability to lose an extreme amount of weight. One of my specialists, IMO the one that has listened to my symptom history the most carefully and has the board certifications to interpret my medical data the best, has outlined what I have to do...and though I am terrified, I am finally ready to commit to it.

The goal is simple: reach the lowest weight possible to fight the inflammatory disease process that has left me with over a dozen chronic diseases (and counting).

Obviously, I know how to lose weight, but losing weight too quickly has the potential to also trigger an inflammatory response. Lovely.

So. Here is where Little Blog comes into play.

Over the course of the next 14 months, I will post here to document my monthly goal of losing 6 pounds. I may lose more in the beginning, less at the end, but the average monthly goal is 6 pounds. The timeline, God willing, should hopefully look something like this:

Starting: 205ish (confirm with weigh-in, early Nov)

December 1, 2024: 199.0 or lower

January 1, 2025: 193.0 or lower

February 1, 2025: 187.0 or lower

March 1, 2025: 181.0 or lower

April 1, 2025: 175.0 or lower

May 1, 2025: 169.0 or lower

June 1, 2025: 163.0 or lower

July 1, 2025: 157.0 or lower

August 1, 2025: 151.0 or lower

September 1, 2025: 145.0 or lower

October 1, 2025: 139.0 or lower

November 1, 2025: 133.0 or lower

December 1, 2025: 127.0 or lower

January 1, 2025: 121.0 or lower

I have to remind myself that this can be safe and healthy, even if it involves what is technically extreme weight loss. I also have to remind myself that the end goal is extreme, in a sense, but the daily changes and monthly weight loss do not have to be.

Good sleep, whole food plant-based eating, proper hydration, stress management, and low impact daily movement all go a long way.

I do not have to run 8 miles a day on 600 calories, and I do not have to let this metabolic disordered madness fuel more obesity on the other end of the spectrum. I will never allow myself to live in such extreme fear ever again, no matter how it manifests.

This is the final weight loss blog.

[janewaykove]

Hey! Please look into how AI datasets are formed. These programs are only able to function due to large scale intellectual property theft that would be illegal for any other purpose. AI is an amazing concept and we can do lots of great things with it, even (theoretically) with generative AI if someone were to build a dataset ethically with knowledge, consent and compensation of the authors whose works are being used (there aren't any currently, thus theoretically. the reason there aren't any is if you did it, it would no longer be profitable) but please be aware that the currently available generative AIs (not just text btw, visual ones too) exploit writers/artists, especially smaller ones who don't have the means to fight back. The only way we can disincentivize this theft is by ending demand for the product

If you see parts of anything in the AI stories I post(ed) that you think are from someone's story, please do let me know. But as far as I can see, it's just common phrases and generalized things. Aside from the names I put in and the dozen specific prompts (which often included dialogue), basically all that's left is to put it into place and fill in stuff like everyday phrases (ie "she walked down the hallway and turned the corner"). And of course the sex bits that I prompt. If there's suddenly a paragraph in there from Moby Dick, that'd be a bit questionable!

Now if I posted something from some original story/character/world, I could totally see the issue with it being ripped off. But I wouldn't post that. As it is, I have to be specific about a lot of it. I mean, it will know Captain Janeway should be on Voyager. But if I make the character be Kove, it tends not to know who the hell she is and makes her a tall, skinny blonde who works as a waitress. There's only so many ways to write a sex scene so unless someone owns "she reached between her legs and touched herself," or whatever, it's probably not stealing that from anyone, lol!

As for photos, I've seen how those work and don't care for them. I see a lot of images that look just like original images so I know the generator is just taking original images and basing "art" off those. And not even well, I might add (oh those extra fingers it likes to add).

Hope I'm not sounding like an ignorant jerk here. I know a lot of people don't like AI, so I note when I've used a generator. But, as I've said a while back, my brain isn't what it was 25 years ago and some times I just wanna read a weird story with a weird ship. When they come out kinda good (even though they still need tweaking), I share them. What I've seen is general/common stuff in between my specific prompts, otherwise I wouldn't mess with it.

Also, if fanfiction is technically illegal anyway, the only people to be compensated for AI programs using their work would have to be people who write original stories. Those would be easiest to find in AI generators so that'd be a plus, at least. If AI generates stuff based on fandoms, it's harder to figure which is stolen. But if you've got AI talking about Zippooloo Square on the planet Deengu with its 3 purple-pink moons, that'd be an obvious steal. If it's talking about Voyager being in space, that's more general and common knowledge (unless it mentions a quirky addition we know someone else made up just for their own version) that most of the fandom has wrote somewhere or other.

Edit: I'm not saying AI doesn't steal, just to be clear. I read about it stealing works, or people using it to continue an original story. I certainly don't approve of that! But the little stories I do are just AI filler stuff in the specific prompts I give it. So just "he said/she said" and "walked down the street and went into the cafe" stuff. Not chunks of storyline from already written stories.

[randomthoughtsdissociating]

Yes. We need better education. Not just sex ed, though sex ed needs arguably the most work. See, where I'm from, it's mandatory for kids to go to school for at least 9 years. Reading, writing, counting, all the way up to chemistry and IT. And because it's mandatory (meaning illegal to not get your kids this basic education), it's free. The fact that the kids don't go there isn't just a problem, it's against the law.

They are not having affordable housing systematically withheld from them. They dominate city-owned houses around here. Comfortable, maintained, very affordable. You could easily pay double their cost of living on rent alone if the apartment was owned privately. I know, because I'm the one they go to when they pay them.

As for money, I actually don't think it's either! Money is a trust system we humans developed to simplify trade. It's not made up, even though it technically is artificially restricted to avoid what happened to Spain around the times of oversea exploration. That said, there isn't, in fact, enough money to go around. I don't think there can ever really be. And the problem isn't that we can't make more, it's that there isn't enough value to offset it to avoid completely ruining a pretty large portion of the population. And the money that is there isn't exactly being allocated that well, you said that yourself, you know all this already.

I'd also like to mention that if your sole source of monthly income hangs on you being able to write your own signature, I'd expect that as the years go on, you get better at it, not worse. Certainly not to the point where you're incapable of writing it. ESPECIALLY if the citizen ID you brought with you isn't even a year old and has a perfectly OK signature on it. I know it's annoying to need to sign the check, but just like password requirements and two-factor authentication, it's there for a reason.

We do get people who can't write because of things like head trauma or injury or blindness. They have people with them who can assist them, serve as a wittness and sign the check so the person can get the money, be they dedicated assistants, family members or even neighbours. One lady has this awesome little rubber stamp she carries with her that's just her signature, but I'm sure it cost a pretty penny and thus isn't exactly an option here.

So when a middle-aged lady comes in alone, skips queue, demands her check, claims to be unable to sign it and starts yelling about how we're stealing her money while we explain to her what she needs to do to pick it up, you'll have to forgive me for moving her from the "disabled/in need" to "just an asshole," at least for the moment.

You can have as many kids as you want. But if you have them, you should at least try to take care of them, not use them as a bargaining chip for extra priviledges. And I believe it is morally imperative to deny them those priviledges should they try that, or some other sleazy tactic like dragging a mentally disabled person into a busy as fuck mall to use their disability as a get out of jail free card (this did, in fact, happen. I wish I was making it up). These systems are there for people who need them, and their functionality relies on them being used only when morally justifiable.

I'm not saying they are malicious. Definitely not all the time. Usually, it's not even their fault. But what they're doing is wrong. It is hurting those who would actually need to use these systems. And often enough, they aren't open to explanations or cooperation. Which sucks, but the only thing I can do about that is showing them that it's wrong by denying the priviledges they're demanding. The lady who can't sign herself doesn't get their money until she can either sign the check or fetch someone as a witness, the guy with an invalid ID can get his money if a cop vouches for his identity and the person who thought bringing their disabled mom along was a good idea can have fun waiting for their turn like every other customer.

And thank you for deciding to engage with me rather than just making fun of what I said. I appreciate you taking your time to ask about my viewpoint and I hope I can learn from your feedback.

the world would literally be a better place if cis people could just get trans surgeries "by mistake" rather than forcing trans people to jump through ten million hoops to get it.

[shawnjacksonsbs]

Part- a, earlier

Cogito, ergo sum 8-8-21

“I think therefore I am” - René Descartes

Everything(s) that we do is just that. Literally a thing, that we do. It's a way of passing through our very short time here. From painting the Sacellum Sixtinum, to coaching little league baseball, to staying up all night smoking crack in a basement surrounded by people who correlate the word struggle to mean a way outside of themselves, but it's more about the -what- we do rather than the -what for-. Which, for those of us lucky enough to want more out of this life, perhaps it comes about at a later time as an internal journey, like it did for me, and millions of other . . . soul searchers. Soul searchers? Yeah, soul searchers.

I am because I can see that I am?

Yes, but no. I am because it’s obvious that I can see that I am now, but I am . . .even before I knew that I was too.

I read somewhere that the main function of our physical being is to haul the mind from appointment to appointment, that from the neck down we are just a means to an end. True? I mean maybe, even for me to see it.

The heart that I so passionately write about using and/or trying to use better, isn’t actually in your chest by the way. It's in your mind. The ability to reason, the ability to feel, etc, is from the organ inside your head.

The beat in your chest, which is absolutely important too, that implies purpose, is hyperbole, in my opinion. The only heart I'm concerned with when writing and living as an example of how to be kind, why to love my neighbors, and to objectify my gratitude, is the one found upstairs behind my eyes. Trust and believe that.

We can only love life in direct correlation to our level of perception, and that ability to reason that I always talk about. The heart and the mind are one and the same my friends. Parts, or pieces of the whole.

1 part heart + 1 part mind = 1 whole Shawn

I think that all those years I spent lost, and the more recent years that I've been trying to decipher ways of aligning them {the heart and mind}, were just to realize now that I was looking at them all wrong. They are not separate, except maybe as ideas. That realization is how I blended them together. It's a process. I still have a ways to go of course, but . . . It's why I believe it gets easier for me all the time. Because I know the connection between thinking and feeling is the source of our light. It's too important. And the level of brightness, or dimness, is up to us. Up to us to better understand that connection for ourselves. Patiently waiting for others to arrive is another lesson in, and of itself.

This learn•ed move, means that even though you couldn't see it before, because actions speak louder than words, that that feeling inside of me that has always been there, has, in fact, been me the whole time. Granted I had to change me but still . . . me nonetheless.

I am sorry, so very sorry for all those I hurt before, and as unfortunate as it is, the pain of me hurting over the pain of hurting others brought me to this point right here, limiting those deathbed regrets, and living life for love and hoping each day my journey helps me discover and uncover new and exciting things, mostly within, but hey . . .how I feel inside is why I am to you. That’s a thing to behold too. Lol Why I am to you, or why you are to me. Life should be lived as meaningfully as possible. Don’t you think?

Reconciling the heart and mind, is even more important than say that of the mind and body. I'd argue that without the former the latter isn’t completely available.

This reconciling holds actual resources used to differentiate between feelings, and how we feel about everything to include other human beings. Don't waste your resources on mindless, empty bullshit. Remember that life is a limited time offer. Compassion and empathy, for example, would seem like all heart, but without our ability to reason and judge, how would we know it means to care right? Its both. One compliments the other, in almost all of the most important aspects of our lives as humans.

The collective human race has such low expectations of one another these days that it's hard to evolve as a whole though. Individually we stunt growth as well because alone we are limited. We need others. Plain and simple. When we start to do better by each other, we'll be able to start holding higher expectations. Not the other way around. Better standards should be earned, like respect. Right? We show respect first then expect respect in return. Do better for better. We share this little planet and our time here with so many people. Why then is there so much hate? It’s crazy right?

If more people understood, and cared, what others feel, and not just about themselves. . . oh the changes that could happen. So, let’s continue to be kind, or at the very least be civil, and share your love and your laughter with the world as a whole. Then, together, we can light the way for more.

Until next week;

“I feel therefore. . . I really am” – Shawn Jackson