#i really hope this makes some amount of sense

[lorec-x]

I have a lot of empathy for your argument here, 81K.

Have you ever been in a hopeless financial position?

There are times where people can say to themselves, oh, that's just "the default human condition".

And then there are hopeless financial positions.

There are times where it makes sense to say to yourself "Oh, well, that's just economics, that's just how the market works", and turn back and keep calm and carry on and face whatever you were doing.

And then there are times where you can't do it. There are times where you can't do "what you have to do".

That's why you hear complaints. That's why you hear people saying "the economy". I didn't used to understand it. Now I do. 

The rising sound of authors and actors and food service workers and software engineers and everybody complaining that "the economy" has gone so far south that it's impossible to get anything done, that you hear, that's a swell in the numbers of people for whom it has become such that they can't do it anymore.

Like, I know from your perspective, the only thing that makes sense to do in a situation like that, where according to all legible measures of "the way this country is supposed to work", they haven't been wronged, they haven't suffered anything cruel and unusual and aren't particularly entitled to plead for redress of grievances, I know from your perspective, the only thing that makes sense for them to do is keep calm and carry on? They can't do that.

It's at that point that they start looking around and looking back and asking themselves why. Why is it so easy in the movies and only in the movies and why do the [romantic] movies [that aren't tragedies or morality tales] seem to take place according to a 'high'[er] moral logic completely removed from this world? Why have all novels been at least magical realism and probably located in an entirely other universe or a romanticized past for however many decades now?

"If it's supposed to be guaranteed possible for me to house and feed and clothe myself and get to see my friends with a reasonable amount of honest adherence to my principles of not lying or harming people, why does there not appear to be anyone for whom it is actually still trivial? Why have all the people who sort of exist as secondhand echoes in the stories I was raised on, who have lived a financially sound life on morally sound principles, and can advise me about how to do that, seemingly disappeared? And the advice of the ghosts rendered inapplicable, to which they are oblivious as they beam cruelly out of my memories?"

And a lot of them are looking back and seeing this transition from something that looks like an honest economy, that you could write honest, morally sane children's books teaching your children how to function in, an economy that you could honestly write and sell good children's books in, to a kind of derealized alienated hellscape where anything that makes money has to have all the humanity squeezed out of it first. Where instead of anything getting to be a product for a willing customer, it seems like everything has to be a signal to some unreachable third-party arbiter.

And they're groping for words, groping for - maybe they've been beaten out of really hoping that anyone will recognize them as having legitimate frames, but they're groping for frames and words they can hope a little will pass as legitimacy-adjacent. They were taught in school that the government and the market are supposed to be what's been propping up the state of people's lives being OK, right? Well, maybe the graphs don't show it, but maybe the graphs left something out. They theorize about what maybe the graphs left out because that's all they were taught to do, even implicitly, if the government and the market stop propping up a state of people's lives being OK. That's the only thing that's kind of a plea they were taught would be worth someone listening to.

But there's obviously this mass conflation of "understanding markets" with "being an economics professor". And "understanding governance" with "having a public policy degree". So it's unfortunate, but they're misunderstanding something, the graphs didn't leave anything out. The graphs aren't for them. Well, they can't really do anything about that, any more than they can "just muscle through", so they'll just keep theorizing about what maybe the graphs left out and maybe someday someone will listen. If they don't just sell their soul to the machine, or something.

woop there it is

[d1xonss]

What if…The World Never Ended?

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

✧ Era : No Apocalypse AU

✧ Word Count : 3.4k

AN ~ To the annon that sent me the question about how Daryl and Rose would’ve met if the apocalypse didn’t happen; thank you for inspiring me. If you’re new here, this is a oneshot based off of my fanfic called Desert Rose which you can find in my masterlist. Meaning this isn’t just any reader oneshot like I occasionally post. But obviously you’re still free to read even if you aren’t following along with the series as this was just written for fun:)) xoxo

“Shit, shit, shit!” Rose exclaimed, hitting her hands on the steering wheel of her car that was currently sitting on the side of the road. She knew she should’ve filled up before leaving the hotel she was staying in, but a part of her was just too anxious to wait any longer. After all, meeting up with a friend you hadn’t seen since high school, it tends to make you just the smallest bit nauseous. And apparently, it makes you forget to gas up your car too.

Because the woman had lived in the boring state of Ohio all her life, she wasn’t quite used to the bigger cities she found herself in currently. Hell, there wasn’t even a time where her family took a vacation other than camping at their regular sight with their regular RV. It was way out of her comfort zone to get out on her own in the city of Atlanta of all places, but she figured life was too short to live with the fears you held. Only now that motto was biting her in the ass, seeing as she didn’t have a cell phone to call anyone for help. Much like her father, she didn’t like the idea of them, figuring she would never need one that was off the chord. But now that was ironically biting her in the ass too.

With the heaviest of sighs, Rose slowly peeled herself out of the vehicle, the heeled boots she wore clicking on the side of the two-laned highway where cars continued to pass. Locking the door with her car keys, she glanced both ways to figure which direction to go, before beginning the dreadful walk toward civilization. She didn’t know exactly what she was looking for here; a phone, a tank of gas, a shooter of vodka. Maybe all of the above. But whatever the case may be, being late to the dinner that was planned was now inevitable. So, really it made no sense to rush now. 

The weather was surprisingly cool given summer was just around the corner, a nice breeze passing every now and then to distract from the sun that was on its way toward the west. It almost surprised her that so many people had driven by without stopping to offer some help, but then again it’s not like she necessarily expected it either. Even the smaller town she was from, the people around weren’t all that nice and friendly, and apparently here it was worse. In fact, they all just stared as she did the walk of shame, she didn’t even need to look up to know. It was like she could simply sense it.

It felt like she had been walking the length of a marathon, her eyes searching for that finish line that she prayed for. All that she had come across thus far was a few run down houses and an old trailer park that sat within the trees. And it seemed as though it wasn’t that big of an emergency where she felt comfortable enough to knock on someone's front door. Though she figured there had to be a grocery store or even a fast food restaurant close by considering the amount of neighborhoods popping up in the area.

And then, suddenly she spotted it. A small, beat up Shell gas station just sitting on the corner of the highway, where she assumed people bought snacks and gas before heading out for road trips. Breathing a sigh of relief, she picked up her pace the smallest bit in hopes this would have the three exact things she was looking for. The place was just slightly busier as people came and went with their needed necessities, but she could hardly pay them any mind. The moment she spotted a payphone sitting just outside, she made a beeline for it.

Her hand reached for her jean pocket to fish out some change, putting the coins in the slot and holding the phone up to her ear, ready to punch in the number she had repeated to herself the whole way here. Though all she was able to hear was silence coming from the phone, not a sound of the usual dial tone she was used to which caused her to place the phone back, before picking it up to try again. Yet the outcome was still the same, causing her to try and dial the number instead to see if that would get her anywhere.

Though she was so focused on the task at hand, she didn’t even notice the man leaning against the side of the building, his gaze occasionally flickering toward her.

“Wonder if she knows it’s broken,” he thought to himself, his eyes diverting again from her as he instead picked at his thumbnail. An anxious habit he had since he was a kid. Really he wanted to light up a cigarette as he hadn’t had one in about two hours, but he knew better than to do that. Some other assholes would light up right here without a care in the world, like his brother for instance. But again, he knew better.

The bell then rang, signalling someone’s departure from the convenience store. Speak of the devil.

“Come on, little brother.” he called, his hands full of lighters, Marlboro reds, and beer. “I promised Jim we wouldn’t be late, you know the guy needs his shrooms.”

The other man nodded his head wordlessly, beginning to head over to where their truck was parked up front. Though he couldn’t help but glance back over at the woman whom was still trying to use the phone, feeling a nagging pull like he should say something.

He heard his brother open the driver’s door, tossing the things occupying his hands carelessly in the back before glancing over the vehicle at him, “Aye, Darylina.” he mocked, “The hell you doin? Get in.”

Daryl grunted, shaking his head from his thoughts before opening his own door, but it was then Merle realized what he had been staring at. He scoffed, “Lady!”

The woman’s head spun around at the sound of his loud shout, her eyes slightly wide from the fright, “Damn things busted, yer gonna have to try yer luck somewhere else.”

She blinked a few times before slamming the phone back down in frustration, waving a hand in his direction as if to silently thank him for sparing her from any more embarrassment. She looked stressed as if she needed some help, and Daryl noted she came here on foot. Walking for who knows how long. He didn’t even realize he was still staring at her as she made her way into the gas station to try her luck in there, his gaze catching with his brother’s which ultimately caused him to focus on the ground instead.

“If ya need some pussy that bad, I’ll pay for a hooker.” he offered sarcastically.

The younger Dixon made a sound of annoyance, rolling his eyes, “Just looked like she was in trouble.”

“So is everyone else,” Merle clapped back, “We got better things to worry about than some stuck up girl throwin a hissy fit.”

Daryl didn’t know if it was the sound of his brother's mockery, or the fact that he didn’t have an ounce of sympathy left in his body, but whatever it was it caused him to snap. No longer caring about the places they needed to be, they always seemed to benefit Merle rather than him anyway. So without a word, Daryl made a beeline over toward the entrance to take the highroad, something that was rare for him. Ignoring the calls of his name from behind his back.

The bell jingled on top of the door as he entered, his eyes briefly scanning around for the woman. Though he heard her before he saw her.

“No, you don’t understand, this is an emergency. My car is stranded and out of gas back a few miles on the highway and I need to make a call.”

His ears perked up at the sound of her situation, and the fact that the guy behind the counter clearly wasn’t letting her use the phone was only frustrating her even more. Though before any kind of fight broke out, Daryl stepped in, cutting in front of her in line.

Her eyes widened in disbelief, “Hey, I was-”

“Gimmie twenty dollars on pump four,” Daryl interrupted her, not even looking in her direction as he reached back for his wallet, “I’ll take one of them gas cans, few of them scratchers right there too.”

“Now, wait just a damn-”

“You need anything else?”

Her eyebrows raised in surprise, suddenly realizing that he was helping her instead of being an asshole like she originally assumed. Now she just felt like an idiot. As for his question, she didn’t answer. Not verbally anyway. She stood there silently for a moment, her eyes glancing off to the side, before grabbing a small pack of powdered donuts and setting them down on the counter.

The bell on top of the door rang out again to signal their departure, the duo heading towards the selected pump that Daryl had already put money into, wordlessly getting to work on transferring it over into the gas can. Rose stood there awkwardly holding onto the plastic bag, not knowing what to say to the random stranger that just decided to help her out of the blue. She should’ve been thankful, but instead she only felt the slightest bit of suspicion. 

“You didn’t have to help me…”

The man grunted, “I know.”

She swayed awkwardly on her feet, watching the numbers on the gas pump as she began to overread the situation. “I really could’ve handled it on my own. Called my friend to come save my ass instead of burdening you.”

“I know.”

A sigh of frustration left her lips at his default answer, “My point is, you didn’t have to go out of your way-”

“M’ not goin out of my way,” he interrupted her, “I wanted to. And for someone who was bout to be stranded out here without no phone to call for any help, ya don’t seem all that grateful.” he grumbled as he finished up, tightening the lid closed.

“I am grateful.” she defended, “I just- I don’t want to owe anyone anything.”

“Yeah, well, I reckon you do owe me a little something. Some silence.” he said before jerking his head for her to follow him, “Come on.”

Her mouth dropped at his bluntness, her feet stomping on the pavement as she kept up behind him, “Hey!” she called out to get his attention, “First of all, it’s that way,” she directed over her shoulder, “Second, I thought you had a truck. You really expect us to walk all that way back?”

“Nah, my brother has a truck. The same asshole who told ya the payphone was broken, and the same asshole who peeled outta here the second he realized I was gonna help ya. Can’t exactly pull another car right outta my ass.”

She shook her head, “But-”

“Woman, you got two options. You can either come with me to get yer car started back up. Or you can sit your ass here and wait for me to bring your car to you, after I loot all the valuable shit you got for my troubles.”

His tone was dry, an only indication for her to know he was being sarcastic about the last part. But still, it managed to get her to shut up. Wordlessly beginning to walk beside him toward the right direction where her vehicle was stuck. The man didn’t strike her as some kind of criminal, but she also wouldn’t put it past him if he robbed her just out of plain spite.

There wasn’t a word uttered between the two for about half of the way there, mostly because he said he wanted silence in the first place. But it also gave Rose time to think. She couldn’t seem to shake the familiarity that came with him, the way they argued alone proved that they were both equally stubborn and thick headed. That was something they had in common, along with enjoying the quiet rather than wanting to squirm away from it. Perhaps they were soulmates in another life or something. But that was a crazy thought to have, right? They had only just met, yet she felt as if she somehow already knew him. Maybe that’s why she trusted him enough to be alone with him in the first place.

Though the further they walked, the guiltier she felt for reacting that way when he was only showing her a simple act of kindness, one that no one else seemed to offer. Sure she was weary of the unfamiliar place, but she may have jumped the gun when it came to questioning his intentions.

She looked over at him for a moment as she munched on the powdered donuts he had bought for her, wordlessly extending the package as a silent offer. Daryl glanced down at her hand, scoffing quietly to himself before taking one anyway, popping the whole thing into his mouth.

“Thank you…for helping me.” she spoke up quietly, “I…I wasn’t trying to come off as a bitch. I’m just not from around here,” she tired to explain.

“Ya don’t say.” Daryl muttered sarcastically.

Her eyes narrowed a little, “I’m trying to be heartfelt here, can you just listen for a second?”

“Right, sorry.” he muttered, nodding for her to continue as a ghost of a smile appeared on his face.

“I’m not from around here, and I guess new places make me anxious. Especially since I’m alone, and people around here don’t seem too helpful. So, can you at least try to understand why I was weary?”

He nodded again, “Nah, I get it. Bein cautious…it’s smart.”

She nodded in return, thankful that he somewhat understood from her perspective. While he on the other hand was relieved the tension was out of the way, not wanting her to think he was just some dick. “So, where are ya from? I don’t hear no accent.”

Rose noticed his attempt to keep the conversation going. It was refreshing, “No, I’m not from the South, that’s for sure. I live in Ohio. The most boring state you could probably think of.” she informed as her nose scrunched a bit.

He chuckled quietly, “Eh, I dunno. Kansas, Nebraska…I think they got Ohio beat.”

“Well, that’s a relief at least,” she laughed a little as well.

“So, what brings ya all the way down here then?” he asked, seeming genuinely curious.

“I’m here to see a friend I’ve known since grade school. Apparently he’s living larger than I am.”

Daryl chewed the inside of his lip, “He an asshole bout it?”

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly, “I haven’t really seen him in years, and I know people can change over time. But I hope it hasn’t changed him too much…he’s sorta the only good friend I had.”

There was a moment of silence after she said that, the weight behind her words hitting her only after she’d spoken them. It felt a little pathetic, the fact that she was a grown adult and didn’t have many people she could count on. Not many people she could even call a friend. But surprisingly, Daryl understood better than she realized.

“Well, he don’t gotta be the only friend ya got.” he muttered quietly before gesturing to himself.

Rose couldn’t help but smile, “Don’t say that just because you feel bad.” 

“I ain’t,” he promised, “Hell, I know the feelin. I only really hang out with the assholes my brother brings back to our place. Most of ‘em are already high the second they walk through the door. Can’t say m’ too fond of ‘em.”

She blinked, “Okay, I’ll pretend I didn’t just hear that.”

Daryl scoffed, “What, are you some cop or somethin?”

“Yes.”

He paused for a moment upon realizing she was serious, “Oh, shit…”

“Relax,” she laughed softly, “There’s nothing I can do about it here anyway. Plus you’re doing me a favor.” she said before popping another donut in her mouth.

He let out a small breath of relief, knowing Merle would absolutely murder him if he found out he had accidentally slipped up in front of a cop. Especially one he was trying to help out. Or…at least that’s what he was telling himself. Not wanting to admit that he was actually enjoying this a little. He too felt a sort of simplicity when he was around her which was odd considering his disinterest in meeting anyone new. But he found he liked her presence, seeing they had the same kind of humor that made them sort of click in a weird yet natural way. Like the universe had somehow pushed them together.

“Well, anyway…m’ just sayin I know what it’s like to not have a lotta people in yer corner.”

She nodded slowly in understanding, “You’re…not close with your family? Besides your brother, I mean.”

He huffed softly, quickly shaking his head, “Nah…you?”

“No.” she answered just as simply as he did, both of them knowing that subject was a can of worms neither of them wanted to open. As victims of abuse, both physical and mental, it’s like they both silently knew without even having to admit it out loud.

Rose then cleared her throat, “I appreciate the offer…you sure you wanna befriend someone like me?”

“Hey, you ain’t bad.” he said, a small smile growing on his face.

Her eyes softened as her eyes lingered on him, feeling flattered that she had made such an impression. But maybe he was just feeling the same connection.

It didn’t take long then for them to find where he car was parked off to the side, the conversation that flowed really helped time move faster. They filled the car with gas and heard it roar to life, feeling like a weight had been lifted off Rose’s chest now that everything was in working order. And of course, she insisted on giving him a ride home considering how fast his brother seemed to bail on him from the utter impatience he held. Daryl tried to decline, but she wasn’t taking no for an answer, not after how much he had helped her when really he didn’t have to give her the time of day. She could see right past his rugged demeanor, noticing his kind heart and gentle nature despite him putting up a front for others to see.

He navigated her through the streets, getting stuck in traffic in certain intersections with how bustling the city always seemed to be. But that only gave them an excuse to spend more time together. And suddenly, she wasn’t so worried about being late to meet up with her friend, finding she was having much more fun with him than she would’ve at dinner.

Though everything has to come to an end eventually, feeling a hint of mild disappointment when they finally rolled up to his run down apartment complex.

“Thanks…for the ride.” he mumbled as he unbuckled his seatbelt, only wearing it because she scolded him to.

She smiled, “Thanks for everything else.”

He nodded in return, a small smile crossing his face before he hesitantly exited the vehicle, his slow movements only showing that he was just as disappointed as she was. Rose watched as he walked toward the building, wanting to make sure he got in safely. But he surprised her when he suddenly stopped in his tracks and turned around, making his way back over to the driver’s side door. With her curiosity peaked, she rolled down the window with an anticipation for him to speak. 

He cleared his throat, “I just, uh…if yer ever in town again to visit, and wanted someone to show ya around…” he trailed off, as if scared to say what he really wanted to say. Nervous as if she would reject the offer.

A slow smile was brought to her face, like somehow she had a good feeling about this. “I’d like that…”

~ Thanks for reading!

[angyo]

It's kind of funny seeing people turn around and deploy the same ideas homophobes use against acknowledging canon queer characters against acknowledging that uika is literally, 100% canonically in love with sakiko. I don't think there's only 1 way you should feel about that, whether it's anger or intrigue or anything else it's all an understandable reaction. But they make it VERY clear what uika's feelings are in a way you literally can not deny the romantic aspect of her feelings without tying yourself in the same knots homophobes have against characters like bocchi.

Could it technically maybe be some kind of obsession that both isn't sexual or romantic but still involves uika processing it through the lens of love songs and making a body pillow? Sure it's possible. Just as possible as Magnet being a song about 2 girls commiserating over their feelings for men, or mako asking ryuko out on a date entirely platonically involving romantic imagery only for comedy.

Face it: Bandori did incest, none of the vague amount of plausible deniability they've always used before either. Every argument I see against this fact is just repackaging the arguments homophobes use against us in hopes to deny it. Would there really be any doubt if uika was a boy? Or if they weren't aunt and niece on top of it? Uika didn't crawl around on the floor yelling sakiko's name, I love you's, and obsessing over every aspect of sakiko this episode to deny her feelings. She did that because the writers wanted to make it explicitly clear this reveal isn't to retcon uika's romantic obsession with sakiko, but rather to entirely recontextualize it as even more pathetic and unhealthy than we already knew it was. Even more clearly romantic than ever, to force you to look at her ugliest feelings head on with no room to back away. The format of the episode also forces you to face her head on in making it a monologue from uika to the audience, you cannot look away from uika's ugly feelings when she spells them out so clearly directly to you without looking away from the episode entirely.

Personally, I think it adds a lot of dimension to uika's tragedy and doesn't romanticize it. Just because you're supposed to empathize with uika doesn't mean they're saying she's healthy in these feelings and it should've been obvious her feelings weren't healthy as far back as when she started huffing sakiko's pillow. This is as close to putting a big red circle whenever a character on screen does something bad as you can get without actually doing that.

I do think there's a lot of perspectives you can have about this, being disgusted and turned off the series as a whole also makes sense. We've all got topics we'd rather not see even if addressed well. Maybe you don't think it was addressed well at all and have reasons for that, which is also fine. But we cannot just pretend it's bait, when uika has made her romantic feelings towards sakiko clearer than anything else about her entire backstory. Could the writers still back away from it later? Yeah, anything's possible I guess. But as it stands, they cannot un-bodypillow the oblivionis costume in the futon uika sleeps in to feel closer to sakiko.

[veinspookiebear]

absolutely smitten (2,756 words)

Rating: G

Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationship: Cheng Xiaoshi/Lu Guang

Additional Tags: Post-Season 2, references aren't major but they are spoilers so be warned, Lu Guang Is Whipped, The Daily Life in Lighttime references, Cheng Xiaoshi Has Abandonment Issues, Feelings Realization, Love Confessions, Fluff

Summary: After a photoshoot for social media pictures, Cheng Xiaoshi intends to dive back and improve Lu Guang's awkward demeanor, like he's done before; only this time, he ends up completely derailed when he experiences what Lu Guang feels daily.

-------

“Come on, Lu Guang, smile for the camera!” 

His partner sighs and gives him an unimpressed look. For someone who works with photography on a daily basis, he looks strangely out of his element. Maybe it's less the camera and more the outfit—a little preppier than his usual style, a nice button-up and overshirt, stood in a sea of grass and wildflowers with a crown of blue flowers slipping down his brow. He gently pushes it back into place, careful not to break any delicate stems. 

“Are we really sure about this?” he asks, a little exasperated.

“Yeah! You look great!” Cheng Xiaoshi insists, tweaking the camera zoom slightly. 

“I meant trying social media again in general. After what it led to.” 

Cheng Xiaoshi pauses, leaning back from the camera. “Well, we gotta market somehow if we want to stay in business! And it's pretty unlikely anything will happen to us this time. I mean, what are the chances there's another set of twins with superpowers that rely on photos that are out to get us specifically?” 

Lu Guang still frowns. Qiao Ling steps over to him to adjust his shirt and position the flower crown better on his head. 

“It makes me a little nervous too,” she admits. “But Cheng Xiaoshi does have a point, unfortunately. The odds are low. And you two have rent to pay.” 

“See! Even she admits it's a good idea!” Cheng Xiaoshi grins triumphantly. “Now come on, Guang Guang, give me a smile! I know you have it in you!” 

Rolling her eyes, Qiao Ling parts with a pat on his shoulder and steps out of the frame. Cheng Xiaoshi centers the view on Lu Guang, even more handsome than usual despite his disgruntled look. “We'll be done soon, it's just yours left. Pleaaase?” he encourages. 

With a long-suffering sigh, Lu Guang adjusts his posture and attempts a smile. Though strained, it's charming enough to the average viewer, he hopes. He snaps a few pictures, Lu Guang tries some other angles and poses, and he snaps some more. 

Finally, they wrap up. Lu Guang hurries to help pack up the equipment, and Cheng Xiaoshi teases him on the way home about the sudden increase in energy. Turns out, he only wanted to curl up on the couch and read. 

“You aren't gonna help me with the photos?” Cheng Xiaoshi asks, standing over him. He doesn't look up. 

“This is usually your part, anyway, and it was all your idea. I've done enough by modeling for you.” 

“Qiao Ling and I took pictures too! We put in the same amount of effort!” 

Lu Guang slowly turns a page. Cheng Xiaoshi throws up his hands and stomps off. 

“Fine, fine, I'll do it myself!” 

In truth, there isn't much that Lu Guang would normally do. Sorting through pictures isn't that big of a deal. And even before, he wasn't much of a social media guy, so that part is left to Cheng Xiaoshi too…

Ah, well, he's not giving up on this idea now! When it works, then Lu Guang will see the sense in it. 

At the time, he thought Lu Guang’s attempts would be enough, but as he flips through the photos now, he's less certain. It doesn't make any sense to him. In college, Lu Guang had been a great model, especially in cosplay—dare he say he enjoyed being the camera’s focus then. What changed so much? 

Cheng Xiaoshi studies his face in the picture, gray eyes slightly narrowed, smile unnatural, face tense. He looks a little flushed, too, probably from the heat. Combined with everything else, he looks uncomfortable and embarrassed. He could use these, but… 

An idea pops into his mind. Something similar to what he'd done the last time they attempted to make promotional photos, before all the chaos went down and they deleted everything. Lu Guang didn't take selfies this time, but he had taken Cheng Xiaoshi’s photos immediately before they swapped for his. If he dives into the last picture Lu Guang took of him and plays through Lu Guang’s photoshoot after, he could make him look a lot more natural. 

He casts a glance back at Lu Guang, stretched out on the sunroom couch with his book. He'd be immersed in it for the next while. Cheng Xiaoshi could disappear and not be noticed.

He steps into the darkroom and sets the camera on the counter, displaying the photo he plans to dive into. Lu Guang has avoided this room even more than usual lately; he doesn't understand, but at least he knows he won't be disturbed. Fixing his gaze on the photo, he claps quietly.

Sunlight blinds him. He blinks rapidly, adjusting to his new body—Lu Guang's body. In front of him, through the camera lens, he sees himself posing with a bright smile. He grins wider when he sets his eyes on Lu Guang.

"How was that?" he asks, strutting over to see for himself.

Something warm surges in his chest as he presses close, almost brushing shoulders with Lu Guang. The day sweltered, sure, but had Lu Guang been this hot the whole time? And why so suddenly?

Temperature isn't the only factor. It reminds him of the emotions he feels when a host sees their crush during dives in the past, only… stronger. Deeper. His past self turns to look at him with a goofy smile, and the force of the feelings washing over him threatens to knock him off his feet.

"I think that's pretty good! Don't you?"

"Uh—" He knows what he should be saying, remembers what Lu Guang said to him only a few hours ago, but the words stick in his throat. "Yeah. You look great," he manages, a little delayed. Past Cheng Xiaoshi doesn't seem to notice.

"Aw, thanks! You're not so bad yourself, y'know—" His heart flutters. Did Lu Guang really feel like this? "—And now it's your turn to show off!"

"What?" Right. He meant to fix Lu Guang's photos.

How is he supposed to do that when Lu Guang feels this strongly? He can barely move, heart thumping so loudly he doesn’t know how he didn’t hear it. If he didn't already know Lu Guang was perfectly comfortable on their couch right now, he'd think he had heatstroke.

His past self giving him a little nudge away from the camera doesn't help. "Your photos! You're not getting out of doing this too, Guang Guang, we all gotta represent the business!"

"Right." His voice comes out strained. He can't tell if he's overthinking or if he sounds different than Lu Guang had. How does he hide all of this so well?

Qiao Ling distracts him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him a few steps away. "Let me just double-check you're still good to go…" She straightens his clothes and messes with his hair, leaning close. She'd worn a floral scent today; he remembered her mentioning it, but he'd hardly noticed then. Now, it messes with his head, sharper than he'd expect even with her proximity, like his senses were enhanced.

"You're so hot…" she frowns, pressing a hand to his head. It isn't cold, but it's much cooler than he feels. "Do we need to take a break?"

"No, I'm okay," he answers, relieved when his voice comes out steady. "Let's just get this over with…"

"At least drink something," she insists, pulling a water bottle from her bag.

"Uh, okay. Thanks."

He takes a few sips. The cool liquid soothes his throat and alleviates some of the heat in his body. He screws the cap back on and hands it back to her, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

With a deep breath of spring air, he heads to where they'd been taking pictures. All he needs to do is pose like he did for his own photos, and they'd come out great. His head feels clearer already; maybe Qiao Ling was right about the water, and Lu Guang had just overheated earlier.

Then he settles his gaze on himself, and those feelings flare up again. Attraction—flattering, he had tried to look good—but it's also more than that. Affection, softer, but so overflowing that his chest threatens to burst. He notices a few strands of hair out of place, and his hands itch with the urge to push them back; then to hold him, safe, and card his hands through soft black locks. Care and tenderness like Cheng Xiaoshi has never known for himself, reminiscent of the love of a parent to their child, or a husband and wife, and yet not quite the same. It's difficult to describe when he's feeling everything so fully, even just second-hand.

Then, he realizes it's directed at him.

Lu Guang feels so much for him.

His own emotions surge, complicating things even further as tears prick his eyes. Someone feels this way about him, and it's none other than the man he lives his life with.

The man who promised to stay when no one else did.

Cheng Xiaoshi knew he meant it in the moment, and it comforted him to hear. Used to getting left behind, though, he couldn't really believe him, couldn't let himself hope it would be true. Not until just now.

"Lu Guang? Is something wrong?"

The concern in his voice breaks his heart. This part isn't meant to happen. Silently cursing, he tries to pull himself together and shakes his head.

"No, sorry… just got distracted. Let's get this done."

"Maybe Qiao Ling was right, you look overheated…" he frowns.

"Just take the picture," Lu Guang sighs.

"Alright, alright… If you're sure you're good."

As soon as he glances away briefly, Cheng Xiaoshi claps out.

He stumbles forward, plunged into darkness as he returns to the present. Breathing a little labored, he braces himself against the counter, processing what just happened. He completely failed his original intention—quickly, he checks the camera, making sure nothing changed. To his relief, the photos look the same. He sighs, setting it back down and rubbing his eyes.

Did Lu Guang always feel that way? How did he function?

Cheng Xiaoshi sinks to the cold floor. Lu Guang rarely shows much emotion, so it's hard to tell how he feels a lot of the time. He's not physically or verbally affectionate unless Cheng Xiaoshi asks or he picks up on when he needs some attention. But he's always there. He kept his promise.

He thinks back to when he dived into Lu Guang in the past. The first time was to change his selfies, but he'd set that up specifically to allow a quick in-and-out dive, so he didn't pick up any emotions. The other time was when he saved himself from Li Tianchen. He remembers a rush of feelings, but his adrenaline had been high, and especially months later, it's impossible to untangle his emotions from Lu Guang's.

He groans quietly, curling up and resting his head on his knees. His heart thumps wildly, and he's pretty sure it isn't leftover from the dive. How is he supposed to function around Lu Guang, knowing what he now knows? Asking him directly would mean admitting to diving for something Lu Guang had forbidden him from doing again, and he'd rather not tangle with that.

He can't stay here either. Lu Guang would notice he's not around at some point. With a sigh, he pulls himself to his feet.

He'll have to keep an eye on Lu Guang over the next few days. Hopefully, he'll catch him doing something that will give him a reason to question him.

— — —

As it turns out, Lu Guang is even more of a master at hiding his feelings than Cheng Xiaoshi already thought. He acts completely ordinary. Even when Cheng Xiaoshi tries to push, poking him with vague flirts, he dismisses them. It reaches a point where Cheng Xiaoshi begins to wonder if he misinterpreted it all; maybe Lu Guang was ill from the heat. But he can't ignore the strength and sincerity of those feelings, more than anything he had felt on a dive before.

And for him.

Maybe that's why he's holding on. Foolish hoping. A desperate wish that someone would love him so deeply that he'd never have to worry about them leaving—

"Cheng Xiaoshi?"

He startles, looking up from his phone. It plays the same video as when he drifted off—some goofy pets compilation.

Lu Guang sits with his book closed in his lap and watches him with a scrutinizing eye. Cheng Xiaoshi squirms. "Uh, yeah?"

"Do you just really like those dogs, or is something wrong? That same video has been looping for five minutes."

"Um," Cheng Xiaoshi flails for any reasonable response and draws blank. "Nothing's wrong. Just, uh, spaced out."

"Something on your mind?" Lu Guang asks. When Cheng Xiaoshi doesn't answer, he adds, "You've been acting strange the past few days. I've been meaning to ask what's up."

"Ever-observant Lu Guang," Cheng Xiaoshi sighs. "Guess it comes with your powers, huh?"

Lu Guang says nothing. Cheng Xiaoshi wouldn't be surprised if his eyes turned blue. He sure feels like a photo being observed.

Deflating, he shuts his phone off and sets it on the coffee table. "Remember last time we tried to do promotional photos and I dived back and changed them so they looked better?"

"I do. I also distinctly remember telling you never to do that again."

"Uh-huh…" Cheng Xiaoshi chuckled sheepishly. "Well, um, I didn't! Technically. That was the intention, but…"

He trails off, uncertain. His mind wanders back, trying to name the things he'd felt. Butterflies stir in his stomach. "I've never… I mean, I've seen myself through your eyes before. But I guess not in a setting like that."

"You know."

He looks up, surprised. Lu Guang averts his eyes. When he doesn't elaborate, Cheng Xiaoshi risks that they're on the same page and murmurs, "You… you really feel all of that? All the time?"

"I do." Simple and direct, but earnest. Cheng Xiaoshi's chest swells.

"I never knew you… I never knew anyone could feel that strongly. About me." He huffs a humorless laugh, tears welling in his eyes again. "You feel so much."

Lu Guang looks over at him finally, his neutral expression cracking into something soft and concerned. "Xiaoshi…"

It's Cheng Xiaoshi's turn to not be able to look at him, face warming. No chance of blaming the dive on this one. These are his own feelings, powerful and new, but nice, in a way. To be loved so much, and to return it in full.

"Why'd you never say anything about it?" he whispers. "How do you go around hiding this?"

Lu Guang reaches for him, but stops, looking strangely conflicted. "It's too much to lose," he breathes, barely audible. Cheng Xiaoshi stares at him, confused. He drops his hand, gaze following it down, as he elaborates, "I mean… If you… weren't okay with it. If it was too much, or scared you off, or something. I don't want to lose this."

Cheng Xiaoshi's breath catches. He reaches for Lu Guang's hand and threads their fingers together. Lu Guang stiffens, then relaxes with a shaky exhale.

"You aren't gonna lose me." Cheng Xiaoshi shifts closer to him, stopping when their knees touch. "Partners for life, remember? Whether that's basketball, or business, or…"

He reaches up and lets his fingers brush Lu Guang's cheek. His lips part, but no words come out. He closes them again and leans into the touch, and Cheng Xiaoshi takes that as a good sign, cupping his cheek and pressing their foreheads together.

"I like you," he whispers, voicing it as he truly acknowledges it, breathless and awed. "And you…?"

"I like you too," Lu Guang replies instantly, tentatively reaching around to thread his fingers through Cheng Xiaoshi's hair. The ponytail comes loose easily, and Cheng Xiaoshi feels his hair fall, followed by Lu Guang's hand against the back of his neck, running it between his fingers. "I love you so much."

A breathless laugh bubbles from his chest as Cheng Xiaoshi tugs him closer, arms around his back as he buries his face in his shoulder.

He loves me. He loves me. He loves me.

"I love you too."

Lu Guang sighs, all the tension bleeding from his body as he hugs him back tightly. "I'll always stay," he whispers. "No matter what."

Cheng Xiaoshi believes him.

[sos717]

stop misleading ppl. What you "teach" has nothing to do with advaita or nondualism. It's some nonsense that uses similar words to confuse ppl. Just stop. The ppl that think you make sense, don't know what they are talking about and you are making it worse for them with this foolishness. You are adding noise and confusiion to the world and it's all to make yourself feel special. Stop this nonsense. You are not a guru. STOP MISLEADING PEOPLE. Go do a meditation retreat or something. You are one of those ppl that think they see but are blinded by their own ego and don't have the humility to shut up.

I actually really like when I comments like this because it shows how troubled you are, your grip on an ideology is being threatened so you have to push back as hard as possible, probably because you’ve poured a great amount of who you are into this, but I wanna know where at any point and recently I’ve claimed I’m teaching an ideology? You’re right I’m not a guru, I’m not even someone special at all, but I know that, that’s why I never CLAIM it at any point. But you wouldn’t know that.

I’ve actually made it plenty clear in allot of my recent posts that I don’t follow any ideologies or practices, but of course you wouldn’t know because you haven’t actually read what I’ve been saying, you’ve come to a conclusion out of fear. It’s okay, because for as long as you ignore the truth and plant yourself into one thing alone as if it’s your savior, you’ll always be acting from a sense of separation, which is what your community likes to call ego.

I guess I’ll have to make it very clear once again, don’t come to conclusions when you know close to nothing about my view, I am not a member of any community, I’m not teaching from the perspective of and ideology, but simply EXPLAINING under my view of what reality is, how this all works.

I explain conciousness, which is what we are, not nonduality, not witchcraft, not manifestation or LOA, but I CAN explain every single one of those groups under my understanding of reality. And this is incredibly important, if your worldview ignores something like what the idea of “manifestation” is, it’s not objective, and you’re hiding from a portion of what’s actively going on.

I really hate when people who come from nonduality ignore the basic fact that “manifestation” plays no aspect to what reality Is, and that you have no role in that. Because you’re literally saying conciousness is all there is, and it’s the fundamental blueprint that is reality, and yet you have no say in experience? Doesn’t check out.

Well, hope you get better soon buddy, talk soon I hope ❤️❤️❤️

[overnightheartbeats]

"That sounds horrible," she blurted out, her thoughts getting ahead of her rational thinking. "In, the..." there really was no justifying what she meant. "Well, you know what I mean. I am glad that you don't feel so pressured anymore, hopefully that helps you find what you want." And, whatever that ended up being, she would be happy for him. "If I can do that, then I think I would've done my job here. That sounds like a peaceful life, I can definitely imagine you with like one of those rocking chairs on the porch, ya cuando estes old and gray."

Surface level conversations are the worst! I get that. You're afraid of what her response might be, how she might remember the past? You would give her another chance, if those feelings were still there for her?

She felt bad, for the amount of questions she asked Javi. But, part of the questions were the hopeful answers that she held on to. If Javi was willing to forgive and maybe start over, perhaps in some crazy way, Nate might be too. Or, she hoped.

Well, if a lot of time has passed, I guess it makes sense that you guys don't know each other so well. They do say people change so much in a year, imagine more than that. You kissed? Wow, look at you two go!! If it felt like that, maybe there is something there. It could just be that you're both guarded, the walls came down for just a bit. Speaking of walls being up, seems you and I are on the same page about it. Like you, I'm scared. That's why I didn't want to be honest. But, you're right. I've only been around him a few hours again, and I know I can't go back to pretending he doesn't exist. So, tell you what - we both suck it up and are honest with our (ex) medias naranjas. If it goes horribly wrong, well at least we have each other to bring ourselves some comfort. Or, we call in reinforcements and seek out another advice column for the both of us. looking forward to hearing your thoughts :)

Ivette promised to wait until he was free so she could get that tour he promised. She was super curious how much the hacienda had changed since she was last here. Still, she couldn't sit around too long. She was always used to running around everywhere, and the longer she sat at the table on her own, the more her thoughts got the better of her. After replying to Javi, it didn't help her mind remain clear. Before she got too in her head, she stood up and went outside to walk around the grounds. Perhaps, she'd find Nate somewhere along the way. Her heart was pounding against her chest, what had she just suggested to Javi? It was madness. She spotted him in the distance, and before thinking further, she called out to him. "Can you please put me to work? My brain was falling apart in the kitchen. And, turns out your chilaquiles are magical after all." Stepping closer to him, she sighed knowing she had to take the advice she had spewed to Javi. "I also...I also wanted to try talking, about us."

"No, she's still being the same woman I grew up with. Maybe a little bit worse." Technically he did deserve it given he had been unbecoming of a crowned prince but still. "But, at least she's not pressuring me into shit I don't want to do. She's out of the hacienda business." He did the mistake to meet her eyes and his eyes softened. "I'd like that." he shrugged and sighed. "It's nicer for sure. But if I can get the hacienda up and running the way I want to then I'd be happy to settle my life here."

As Nate walked out of the kitchen into the fresh air, he felt like he could breathe. Ivette still suffocated him like before. He wanted to tell her so many things and yet his mouth zipped shut. He grabbed the tarp and covered the edges that were left opened and climbed the ladder before they fanned the bushes to keep them moist.

His phone buzzing alerted him to a message and he took a moment to read it. His pen pal seemed to share the same heartache left by a loved one and that had him think about two people who'd do this to them. Reading the email he took a beat to think about how to phrase this in a way that wouldn't make Ivette look bad. The last thing he wanted was to be accused of kissing and telling.

I haven't asked her yet. We've had a conversation but it was very surface level. We haven't broached the subject of our past together. I'm kind of afraid to do so. I don't know her anymore. I don't think I ever did to be honest. I thought and this may have been stupidly so, I thought that maybe that we have seen each other again that maybe those feelings would rush back in for her. But the more we interact the less I think she remembers our love could have been strong. If she had let it. I wish we can be friends, I'd love it to be more. But I know that's a faded dream.

I mean, we kissed. More like I kissed her and everything felt right for those brief moments of heaven. I could almost feel like we were on the same page that she loved me back. Then I woke up and I'm smacked with the past is fading.

Maybe the air of thickedness is because you're putting up the block. Why not be honest with him? Tell him straight out what you're thinking. If he gives you lip then you know to walk away. If you want to have him in your life still, you'll need to confront that.

[ardent-apostasy]

came across some cultural christianity discourse, so just a few (rather disorganized) thoughts from one (1) ex-christian's pov:

gonna start off by saying i do understand the idea of cultural christianity and the need for a term to encompass it. and it's definitely kind of uncomfortable, but like, a term for the concept needs to exist.

(i think part of the issue comes from "cultural christianity" or "christian culture" coming off differently than "cultural christian" or "christian atheist". "cultural christianity" addresses a culture. "cultural christian" addresses a person -- and i think that's what makes ex-christians get defensive.)

i think there's an element of shame to feeling like you belong to a different culture than the one you feel like you were supposed to?

i bring up this idea because i'm ethnically chinese, but i was raised in north america. my relatives call me a banana, because i'm "yellow on the outside but white on the inside". and like, there's nothing really wrong with that. it's the truth, and none of it is my fault. but it always feels shameful, anyways -- like i've failed my ancestors and i've failed the community that raised me. like i'll never be white enough and i'll never be chinese enough.

(and i have thought about it maybe being because of sorta white guilt over north america's shitty history, maybe wishing my culture wasn't built on another's bones. but then, china's hands are not clean by any stretch of the imagination. so it's not just that.)

i think another part of it is that "cultural christian" is, like, kind of an insult in many christian circles. (definitely dates back to at least 2011, idk if it goes further. idk if that predates the tumblr discourse or not.) it's a way for christians to tear town other christians for not being "christian enough". for some ex-christians, "cultural christian" doesn't mean "raised in a society influenced by christianity", it means "lukewarm christian who's gonna get vomited up by jesus and turned away from heaven"

being lukewarm, many christians say, is worse than not believing at all. (kind of like judas, who jesus said would've been better off not being born at all.) being lukewarm is something many ex-christians spent their christian years being terrified of.

(i would argue that some of the persecution complex actually comes from that fear. because we're told all the time about the lukewarm christians who weren't strong enough to die for their faith. we were raised on the story of cassie, promising that if a gun was held to our heads, we would still profess the name of jesus christ. we were taught that if we were christian enough, then the world would hate us. so if the world didn't hate us -- if the world wasn't persecuting us -- then it had to be because we weren't good enough. but anyways the connection between lukewarm fear and persecution complex is a topic for another day.)

so i think in that sense a problem is that "cultural christianity" is a term with two competing meanings which are very much different from each other, one of which IS 100% intended as an insult. and the problem with "cultural christianity" in the way that it's used on tumblr is that if you google "cultural christianity", the results are about the christian pov on cultural christianity. that's always a recipe for miscommunication.

and one last sort of thought: many things that are kind of "culturally christian" are things that the church often doesn't approve of. like, giving gifts at christmas? it's not heresy, but you better make sure that the gift you're most thankful for is jesus dying on the cross for you. also, santa is almost definitely satan.

(interestingly, something like christmas gifts is probably one of the things where christians and non-christians will agree on what "cultural christianity" might mean. christians will say it's culturally christian because it's people who don't believe in christ but want gifts. non-christians will say it's culturally christian because, like, it's literally about the supposed birth of jesus?)

anyways, there's not really a point here. just wanted to bring up some points that i haven't really seen mentioned whenever i see the cultural christianity discourse, because i think they're important to understanding where the discourse stems from. (i like to think discourse isn't all just people bitching at each other for no reason. i like to think it stems from miscommunication because we don't understand each others' traumas and triggers. but then that might be too optimistic.)

[calpalsworld]

Give him an AAC device and an electric wheelchair NOW!!!

[sailforvalinor]

Idk if this is controversial, but studying for a English/writing degree at university shouldn’t make you NOT want to engage with writing or literature. Just a thought.

[affluent-havoc]

Okay, so here's a little thing I noticed. Not sure if others have noticed this too but, hey! Why not spread the good word. Also, this thought contains spoiler talk as well so heads up if you wanna avoid those! Will warn when it happens. Ahem. Here is a sprite of Aoi I just snatched for demonstration.

Here she is closer. Can you see it?

It's the school emblem! Or like, that part of it that's in Monokuma's eye! Kinda forgot what it's meant to actually be on the emblem itself ngl. Like.. is it am abstract wing??? Not sure. I shrug like Aoi.

Here is a closer pic of her shorts and the school emblem as well.

Here are other sprites of her too which shows that it's not just a one sprite deal.

This doesn't seem like much bit it also got me thinking. This is where the spoilers come in so run while you can!!

First of all, during the tragedy and the brain wiping of the students and their memories of previously being in the school, this would mean that she had these on, right? Right before shit hit the fan? Like, when Junko did her junking around and all, Aoi would have had this get up on during that. Or, maybe not. Perhaps there is a chance that Junko put her in different clothes? Like, she intentionally picked out these shorts for Aoi as some elaborate trolling method and planted them their on her person. And, maybe she'd know that the chances of them questioning and noticing this is low but, she did it anyway for her own amusement. Also, if Junko DID redress them all before the killing game, she was really going all out with this. Very conniving of her. Maybe it was to make sure it convincing that they had never been at Hopes Peak and feed into that lie. Something along those lines. Also messed up too. Wonder if she did it herself or had Mukuro do it though... Not sure Also, now I'm curious what tools she used for memory wiping everyone though that's another question. Not sure if I'd wanna know anyway! Know for a fact that Kyoko took the longest though with her being the Ultimate Detective and her dad being the headmaster of the whole dang school! Poor Kyoko. Or... hmmm. What is the likely hood that these shorts are from the school and she got them while being IN the school itself pre-tragedy era or like... did she preorder them or something? Could a student preorder clothes from Hopes Peak High School??? Or did Aoi wear this outfit on her way to Hopes Peak or did she have MOST of the outfit on and the "Junko planted the Hopes Peak shorts on" theory happened at the same time? Or, ooh! Maybe Junko used some. She may be the Ultimate Despair and the Ultimate Analyst (think that was in Danganronpa Zero manga??) but maybe she was able apply those skills into designing shorts that perfectly matched the ones Aoi wore to school pre-tragedy but JUST with that added emblem on it to troll? So many questions! This really does makes me think. Like, imagine in an alternate timeline. Could this be evidence of some sort of how they all used to be in this school? Like, when discover that they all used to go to Hopes Peak and that they had their memories wiped, could someone be like "Hey! This is all mad and crazy and all but look at Aoi's shorts" or something? Does that make sense? Maybe? Makes me wonder too. If Kyoko was on her A-game and not struggling with the fact that she got hit the hardest with her memory loss, would she notice this detail on Aoi's shorts or like, how long would it take her to notice? I'm not a detective and I saw this after all! Again, so many questions of mine! I swear though. I dunno how much this makes sense. Though, this small detail on Aoi's sprites kept coming back to me and I have finally figured out how to word it all!

[nazumichi]

i put the mad in penguins of madagascar the way i’m just smiling and waving boys

[syncrovoid-presents]

YOU CAN HIT A TAG LIMIT??? My ramblings in the tags have been conquered and squashed by the 30 tag limit. How silly!

[crescentfool]

Seems up your alley: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45650125

ANON... thank you so much for alerting me to this fic, i know it's been a good three weeks since you've sent this ask but i've finally gotten a chance to read this and GOSH... this is, very very good ryomina fic that i need to tattoo inside my eyelids like, right now. i haven't read fic p3 in a good while but thank you so much for thinking of me!!! 💛💙

[springcatalyst]

i was gonna go on a huge tangent in the post i just rbbed but it ended up being way long so i'm doing it here instead. still going in tags tho

[genesis-the-beginning-anew]

Before I go to bed I guess I’ll make my first proper, non-intro post here…

—

I want to be a sort of shining light. A comfort in people’s lives. Something that can bring a real and pure kind of joy easily… and so so smoothly

I had a conversation with a friend about that. That same feeling plushies ( or a cat or dog even ) give people. The pleasure of something so simple and sweet…

,,

But I also want to keep my claws. My fangs, the chaos that comes from simply messing with people. The discordant sound- the joy in it all

Pillar Chase 2, our nails filed into claws. Making more out there jokes, part of my sources past. Being scary and out there… also makes me happy

…

How do I reconcile those two aspects? They feel opposite in so many ways yet both so appealing. And even so I feel like the latter might make me harder to accept as a changed person, despite it not involving direct, visceral harm

I know that might sound silly to some but anxiety and knowing those out of specific circles would judge for that- it’s so so confusing

[alphalesbian]

Suppose you are in a superposition of any greater than zero number of gender(s), whose behaviour is only absolute upon observation, and depending on the underlying behaviour of each state, it is either immutable, or malleable. A riddle then, person reading this: How can you PROVE someone's gender 'state' as immutable, WITHOUT OBSERVING OR DEFINING them, AND WITHOUT asking that someone AND/OR someone other than yourself WHAT OBSERVATIONS and DEFINITIONS for gender ARE, AND WITHOUT REFERING to any PRE-EXISTING OBSERVATIONS and DEFINITIONS for gender? There is not a single way of gender and human gender, in which we've applied gender and gender as a concept applies to us, that simply DOES NOT CHANGE. Our 'human' definitions of gender CAN CHANGE, DO CHANGE, AND WILL CHANGE, because gender, not just human gender, is fundamentally inherantly, a collection of OBSERVED and DEFINED traits and behaviours, which itself is inherantly unbreakably subjective to all possible configurations within that collection. Call your friends eggs. Thanks for coming to my lecture