#i think discussion is always good for learning

[lizardho]

I took a human development class at BYU. It was a good class. The guy who taught it did a great job with it, he was passionate, he was curious, he was kind, and to top it all off he was a fabulous Mormon. I had to sign up for his class the night it opened and I only barely made it into his lecture it filled so fast. I cannot for the life of me remember his name, but I remember how he challenged the class in some peculiar ways.

A funny experience of challenging the class was when we had our lecture on conception and development in utero. He taps the microphone like a comedian who just bombed a set, asks if we can hear him, get’s a resounding and excited “yes!” and says “Ok! Ok! Y’all sounds excited! Let’s do a chant, see if that helps with some of the other energy. Are you ready?”

Of course everyone cheers yes, we’re Mormon, being in a room of people saying the same shit over and over is our jam. So he nods, gets a beat going by clapping, and starts chanting the word “sex” into the microphone. The claps die. The chant doesn’t start. But he keeps going, and going, until he gets half the class chanting with him by brutal shameless persistence. Then he changes the word. “Vagina!” And resumes until he has half the class. Then “clitoris!” then “penis!” then finally when he has half the room chanting he stops the chant and says “I only ever go until I can get half of y’all chanting because this is BYU and I’d be here all day if I waited for everyone to be comfortable even saying the word “sex” out loud which is INSANE because today we’re talking about how life begins and I guarantee you almost every woman who flinched away from chanting “penis” wants to have kids and most of the men who couldn’t pronounce clitoris want to have at least two kids and that does not work out in my head! We need to get over this fear to talk about conception openly.” He talked about sex as a biological phenomenon and as a fun thing to do sometimes and it was a transformative experience for me, and it was very funny as an opener.

He challenged us academically too, though. He assigned us the task of observing children at the campus daycare and told us he wanted to know who we had observed just by our behavioral observations. He meant it, too. He didn’t want us to just know about kids he wanted us to be able to see kids as distinct people and that was amazing. He pushed us out of the mindset of “how do I pass this assignment” and challenged us to internalize “how do I learn to do this in real life?” and he pushed us to observe children as people and not as science experiments or obedient joyful output machines.

Another way he challenged the class, and this one sticks with me tbh, is he told us stories. His technique is one I often utilize as a therapist. He tells a story that’s related *enough* to keep you aware of how your question or need is related, but just unrelated enough distract you from the question so when he brings it back to you it hits as an experience instead of a verbal response to an inquiry. He did this sometimes in response to questions from students and it was always an interesting way to experience learning. One day a student, a worried newlywed man who JUST found out his wife was pregnant, asked what he could do to help her because he felt so excited and overwhelmed he couldn’t think clearly. And the professor stops the lecture and thinks about it, like, REALLY thinks about it, and he leads into his story - it starts with a brief discussion on the complexity and uniqueness of fingerprints. Then he tells us about how one of his graduate students a few years back came into his office complaining that his wife was getting lazier. Him, being a therapist and a curious man by nature, asked the student what he meant. The student responds by saying that he felt “duped” by his wife because she’d been energetic and motivated and passionate and attentive until she got pregnant and now she “doesn’t do anything” and “has no ambition” and “doesn’t even cook dinner anymore” and “always says she’s tired even though she hasn’t DONE anything” and how he felt like it was all an act to pretend to be a good wife until she got pregnant and had him hooked forever.

And this guy is reacting to this in real time - he goes point by point through this graduate student’s complaints and nods patiently, curiously, then sinisterly as he understands the situation. He tells the grad students to come a little closer so he can show him something in a book, then whaps him upside the head with the book.

The grad student of course reacts with shock and anger and demands a justification for being whacked with a book and the professor responds with “how far into the pregnancy is your lazy lazy wife?” The grad student gives a response to he opens the book and slaps it on the desk and says “at that point in pregnancy your child’s fingerprints are developing. Do you know how complex and detailed fingerprints are? Do you know how much time and energy it would take to make that from nothing? That is what your wife is doing all day. She’s making your child’s fingerprints. Get that in your head and get over yourself.”

He then stops the story, looks at the guy who asked the question, and asks how far along his wife is? And the student responds, and he says “if you go home today and your wife is tired, it’s because she was growing functional kidneys for another human being all day. So tell her you’ll do the dishes, and don’t whine about it. And remember that any time you’re doing any chore or task you’re not accustomed to for the next few months, any time you’re eating an uninspired dinner, any time you’re rubbing her feet or helping her get to sleep and thinking “oh geez she’s so dramatic” remember she is growing another person and ask yourself if your dinner or unfolded socks are more valuable than a functioning kidney or a distinct fingerprint because I guarantee you it is not. She is engaged in the act of creation, fold your own socks.”

Y’all I mean the fucking CRICKETS in that room. My ears were ringing from the revelation he had just unleashed into my brain. There was not a single body in that room that was not GRIPPED by the response to this question. And I fully recognize that he was asking for fairly little, like, yeah, you should be an involved parent and partner because “for time and all eternity” means “even when she won’t have sex with me,” but he was saying it as a Mormon man talking to another Mormon man and that was so exciting and new to me that it stuck with me. I remember this story in a myriad of ways - it’s a good example of using privilege to challenge privilege, for example. It’s a good example of “lifting where you stand,” so to speak, by making a difference where you are instead of making a hypothetical “bigger” difference elsewhere. It helps me remind myself that neutrality is progress, too, and that the best time to do something I should have always been doing is now. It also helps me be patient with myself when I am sick - healing is work, recovering is work, resting is work, even if the demanding husband in my head can’t see it yet.

If y’all are struggling to get better and feel your frustration building as each possibility of action passes you by while you’re stuck healing, you can ask yourself if making an amazing dinner is more important than having a healthy body, then eat your “guilty”/“easy”/“uninspired” Mac n cheese or delivery pizza or peanut butter and jelly sandwich because it’s not. If you find yourself struggling because your body is not behaving like a successful experiment or an obedient joyful output machine, try seeing yourself as a full person and not an assignment you’re failing. And if you’re embarrassed about sex, chant “penis” over and over again or something. The metaphor’s falling apart, so I’ll end with my typical advice: Be gayer, be good to each other, read more Terry Pratchett, and treat people as people.

[22ayla21]

Hi, I was wondering if you could do a Dan Heng x reader family headcanons or fic? I know in one post you said that, due to Dan Heng's lore and such, he couldn't biologically have a kid, but can maybe adopt or maybe have an inseminated baby, like either by a sperm donor or a person they know and trust? Either way, I just think he would be a good dad and have cute but funny shenanigans, also be a giant bookworm and read the kid stories and such. Also would be a little protective of both his kid and wife.

Under the Dragon's Wing

Trying to leave his past behind, Dan Heng found on the Astral Express not just a home, but also a family: a beloved woman and an adopted son.

From Author: In this fic, I've combined three requests. Screenshots of the other two will be below.

Life aboard the Astral Express was always about movement. Planets whizzed by the windows, Dan Heng delved into new data in the archives, March 7 incessantly clicked her camera, capturing another adventure, Pom-Pom habitually grumbled at Caelus, and Welt and Himeko discussed the route, knowing that every journey changed them. No one could have imagined that one day the Express would become not just a means of transport, but a true home—warm, full of children’s laughter and whispered bedtime stories.

It didn't happen immediately.

They found the boy on a forgotten planet. A dusty, abandoned orphanage where children were more like numbers in reports than living souls. Dan Heng's beloved was the first to notice him. He sat in a corner, clutching a ragged doll, of which only half remained. Dark eyes meticulously followed every movement, but he didn't cry. He didn't call out. He just… watched. Silently, as if he had long understood there was no one to call.

"Name?" The caretaker merely shrugged. "No one gave him one. He… just exists. Has been silent since he was found. Strange, not like the others. As if he understood too much, even before he learned to speak."

The boy sat, huddled, as if trying to become invisible. His thin fingers clutched an old, barely-holding-together doll—the last remnant of something that could once have been called "care." His eyes—large, dark, terrifyingly adult for a child—met Dan Heng's.

And in that moment, time stood still.

Not a single muscle twitched on Dan Heng's face, but inside, everything clenched. His heart, accustomed to restraint, was squeezed by pain and anger. Not fiery anger—no. This was a cold, conscious anger. The kind that makes you make decisions that change destinies.

He approached slowly, without haste, and knelt down. His voice was quiet, but firm, like a promise carved in stone: "I am Dan Heng. And this is my beloved."

He extended his hand. Not intrusively. Just… openly. "You are not alone. Do you want to come with us? Home?"

The boy remained silent. His eyes didn't waver, but something flickered in them—a tiny spark, a faint glimmer of hope. His lips trembled slightly, and his fingers, clutching the doll until his knuckles ached, slowly unclasped. The doll slipped and fell silently to the floor.

He didn't say a word. He simply reached forward and placed his tiny hand in Dan Heng's large, warm hand, and then in his woman's hand.

The answer was clearer than words.

The adoption process took time. The Express crew, upon learning of their decision, didn't ask a single unnecessary question—only offered support, only warmth. Welt and Himeko helped with the legal nuances, and March 7 immediately began brainstorming ideas for decorating the room.

The boy's room appeared next to theirs—with built-in lighting, soft panels, children's toys, and a bookshelf that Dan Heng personally began filling. He sought out the best editions of fairy tales—from Luofu, Jarilo-VI, and even rare translations from the languages of forgotten civilizations.

It wasn't easy for them.

At first, the boy, whom they named Yang Ming, didn't speak. He rarely ate, often woke up at night, and didn't trust easily. He was especially afraid of loud voices. Dan Heng and his beloved, though accustomed to difficulties, found themselves facing a new challenge—parenthood. The responsibility was different, almost sacred.

Initially, Dan Heng was afraid to touch the boy. Not because he didn't want to, but because… he didn't believe he could give enough warmth. But the child, despite everything, reached out to him himself.

"Are you a dragon?" he whispered one day, burying his face in his father's shoulder.

"Yes," he replied, and gently ran his fingers through his hair. "But first of all, I am your dad."

From that day on, Yang Ming would only fall asleep in Dan Heng's embrace, demanding that he read him stories. His favorite was the ancient tale of the Azure Dragon. The boy asked him to tell it again and again, and each time he looked at Dan Heng with admiration, as if he himself were the hero from the legend.

Over time, the boy began to laugh. First shyly, then loudly. He ran around the carriage, chased March 7th and Pom-Pom, made paper ships with Caelus, and confidently asked Himeko for another pastry in the dining car. Welt (like a true grandpa) lectured him on history, and then cut out a cardboard model of the Express that he himself had drawn.

When mom and dad wanted to be alone—even just to drink tea and hug in silence—their friends happily took Yang Ming under their wing. No one grumbled. On the contrary, it seemed everyone felt part of something bigger. A family.

Dan Heng and his beloved themselves changed. Before, he could sit in the archives for hours, forgetting to eat or sleep. Now, time spent with his son became more important than any ancient manuscripts or data. He learned to comb hair, fix broken toys, and even once put on a show with cardboard decorations, where he himself played a mischievous wind spirit (March 7, giggling, filmed it from around the corner).

He didn't stop being a protector. But now his water, his wind, his spear—everything was for the sake of his family. For them, he would fight any monster, would return even from the farthest stars.

"Are you afraid of anything, Dad?" Yang Ming asked one day, sitting on his lap.

"Only one thing," Dan Heng replied, and looked at his beloved sitting beside him. "Losing what I love."

The boy hugged his neck tighter. "Me too."

One evening, when even more stars than usual were visible outside the Astral Express's windows, and the scent of cocoa hung in the air, the crew gathered around the large round table.

Yang Ming, covered in confetti and wearing a wreath of artificial flowers, danced joyfully, celebrating the anniversary of his "family day."

"This is better than a birthday!" he shouted happily. "Because on this day, I found Mom and Dad!"

And truly—it was the day his heart found a home.

And Dan Heng… he quietly watched his beloved and son, his gaze soft, full of tenderness and peace.

He knew he had made many mistakes. That in the past, he was one who brought storms. But here, in this present, he had become one who brought light.

A dragon reading bedtime stories to his son. A guardian protecting his family. A man who had found the right to be happy.

And though the stars changed outside the window, one shone brightest in his heart. The one called home.

[fabuloustrash05]

Hi! I've been wanting to publish a tmnt rewrite post for a long time about what if April's "Half Kraang" arc had lasted a little longer and how will she walk the path after "The Kraang Conspiracy" episode. You, as a writer, I'd like to hear your version of how she would deal with such news rather than accept too quickly that she has been lied to throughout her life.

I'll definitely credit you as an author if I take some of your thoughts in my future post.

Thank you in advance if you read it ^^

Ooo! Yeah, I've been thinking about this too actually. In the 2012 series April seems to accept the fact she's a mutant way too quickly. I wanted to see her come to terms with it, explore how she and others (her dad specifically) feel about it and when did she fully embrace it.

April seems genuinely shocked, scared, like her whole life has been a lie, when first learning she's a mutant and rightfully so, but then the episode ends. After that reveal, she just moves on with her life, not really talking about it and showing concern about her new found identity.

The very next episode is the Fungus Humgus episode so I think it would've been a good start to explore her identity crisis. Maybe instead of the fear she's seeing being her dad as a bat trying to eat her (which can still be included) its her seeing herself transform into a Kraang like monster. Indirectly showing the audience that she's scare and confused, unsure of what exactly she is: "Am I human or a Kraang?! Why and how did this happen to me?! What am I??!!!"

I feel it would also be a good moment for her to talk with Splinter, since he's the only human turned mutant she knows (that this point) who can enlighten her on what it was like, feeling his body change and move into something else entirely, and how he came to accept his new life as a mutant. I think Splinter would admit to April he hasn't fully adjust to his new rat body and there are times he hates what he sees when looking into a mirror, but it's his sons are the ones who keep him going and appreciate the life he has now. It would also be a good bonding moment for her and Splinter, which we needed more of.

I remember one time I made a Tiktok a LONG time ago that basically went like;

Casey: You didn't say your friends are mutants! April: What's wrong with that? Casey: Mutants are dangerous! April, shocked and hurt: I'm a mutant...

So April would have moments like that where she's conflicted with mutant subjects. She's not human enough to be considered "normal" but she doesn't look mutant enough to be with them. She'd torn between two worlds and neither will accept her (cause it's established in later season that some mutants HATE humans: Punks Frogs, Alopex, etc.)

I feel there was also a missed opportunity for April to discuss this with her dad. Kirby must have SOME KNOWLEDGE about April's Kraang origin because he was LITERALLY THERE WHEN THE KRAANG TRIED TO CAPTURE HIS DAUGHTER BUT GOT HIS WIFE INSTEAD!!! (i'll get to more of that later)

The April's mom episode will also really take a toll on her, seeing that Kraang creature and fearing that is what she truly is on the inside. She has seen what she is capable of by this point and I think it would've been interesting to maybe have an episode during the farmhouse arc where April goes away for a bit, scared she'll hurt her friends until Raph is the one who finds her. He'd open up to her and tell her that while he won't understand what she'd going through, he knows he fear she has of hurting loved ones. This would also give a good April and Raph bonding moment of his sharing with her his fear of letting his anger getting the better of him that he harm hurt his brothers. Raph's words will give April the courage to go back the farmhouse.

I've always stood by the concept of April getting more Kraang features the more be begins to embrace and understand her powers. For me, it would start with April having green eyes instead of blue for the entire show (her mom has green eyes and so do the Kraang, subtly foreshadowing, you know?). Then after the season 3 finale, that's when things get crazy.

This moment is when April's Kraang side will really show. After April's freak out of Splinter's death, 6 long skinny pink tentacles will sprout from the back of her neck, pink antennas pop from the top of her head, she eyes glow full green. This is April's new look for the rest of the series. She can easily retracked them but whenever she's feeling intense emotion or even during combat, they sprout out and assist her. I can even imagine her using the tentacles to help her hold things lol.

Once April is in space, that is when she truly comes to love and embrace her Kraang mutant side. Being in space was like a self discovery journey. I feel her befriending and training with Fugitoid would help her embrace that side of her. Fugitoid would train her to properly control her powers, making her comfortable with her Kraang features being out (note: beginning of space arc she'd hide them in shame for looking like the enemy, Mikey thinks they're cool and wants to test them, but the Turtles tell him to give her space and let her adjust). The Utrom Council could also play a role in April learning more about her Kraang side, or even her mother's origin. By the end of the Space arc April would fully embrace her Kraang features and show them off with pride. This will lead to conflict with her father later in season 4.

Side note: I'd also like to add the concept of April befriending Mona Lisa and her being the one to give her ideas of how to fight with her Kraang tentacles, since Mona fights with her tail. Just a cute idea lol

April would finally confront her father about their family connection with the Kraang after returning from space, and it's reveal Kirby has always known she was a mutant Kraang, and her mother had ties with them. He just never wanted to tell her and hoped the Kraang would never find them. He never wanted that side of his daughter to come out, after all he's been through with losing his wife, he feard this Kraang side of his daughter would make him lose her too.

Spoilers for Kpop Demon Hunters, but it will be like the scene when Rumi confronted Celine for making her cover up her demon patterns;

April: Why can't you love me?! Kirby: I do! April, Kraang side coming out, full of rage: ALL OF ME!!

This drama would also tie into The Power Inside Her episode (which btw would've been a good season finale after all that build up). I don't know fully how it would play out, but her dad will play a big part in the whole Za-Naron situation. It will end with Kirby finally realizing he's fear is pushing his daughter away and he accepts her for who she is fully and is supportive from there on out.

But those are just a couple of ideas I have for this concept! I hope you like them and I cna't wait to see what you'll do with them! Feel free to add your own creative ideas too :D

[laskar1s]

Placing her bag on the truck's front seat was a smart move with how heavy things like the grill or the gas tank were going to be. Magna could have done the same. She didn't have a lot of stuff, but what she had - mostly some bottled water from the toilet water they'd boiled, soap and other hygiene stuff, already began to feel heavy, like it was dragging her down. As if the effects of all that weightlifting she had done in the prison had vanished entirely in the past few weeks that she had spent living off limited amounts of food. Jesus, what she would do for some good amount of protein.

She didn't place the bag in the front seat regardless, even though Kyleigh had done it. Couldn't bring herself to do it, that stubborn voice in the back of her mind warning her that someone could take it. So she'd have to carry both the bag and the heavy stuff. It would just be for a moment, she reminded herself. And it was sure one hell of a lot more pleasant than having to take out the dead.

Luckily their several trips (as they couldn't carry a grill, a bag of charcoal and a gas tank in one-go) were dead free at least, aside from the low groaning of a few undead behind the wooden backyard fence. Magna couldn't see them, not with how tall the fence was without any gaps to see through, nor could she smell or hear them thanks to the distance and the very thick fence wood. But maybe Kyleigh could.

After strapping everything down to the pick-up truck, including whatever tools they needed, Magna was ready to get the bike, fill in its tire and then chain it to the back so they had a back-up method of transportation in case they ever ran out of gas. Cars were great, but who knew if you could always get gas just in time? You couldn't count on that. Thinking of driving..

"Can you drive this thing? I've never driven a pick-up truck before", Magna spoke, candidly. There was a lot of stuff she'd never done before that she would need to learn sooner or later. How the hell was she going to pick up all those skills? She remembered how much she had fumbled trying to open the garage or pick that lock in the store. And then there were things like making fire, or fishing that she had absolutely no clue about.

One of them would have to drive the pick-up truck, regardless of whether they had any experience with that kind of thing, and that meant whoever did this had to carry all the responsibility for whatever happened.

"I don't like this", Magna went on. "You think the GPS is gonna work? I got enough of having to pick random directions, Russian roulette style. This time? We got the prize. But what the hell do if our car gets surrounded?"

Ever the pessimist. But they've seen it first-hand. A fucked up car on a street they passed by with a woman inside whose arm has been chewed on, windows smashed in. Magna always thought it was most likely that she must not have been able to get the car started, trapped in there with a swarm of dead surrounding the car that eventually managed to break the windows and attack her. It was definitely a possibility, one that Magna needed to discuss, seeing if it could be prevented somehow.

On her way to the front yard, she spotted two dead ones a bit further down the road, enough of a sign to get this done quick. If there were two, then it wasn't unlikely there were more around. Eyes widening as she moved away the pieces of cardboard that would reveal the bike, she looked at her companion. "Shit. Someone took the bike!"

Keeping her hands on the back of the chair for support, Kyleigh's eyes scanned the entire back yard over and over. She knew there wasn't anything in there of course, but the slight noise that Magna was making while she tried to get that door open was making her nervous. Those dead things had hearing that was almost as good as her own and it would be just their luck that one of them might hear it and come see what was going on. Thankfully it only took a few minutes (though it felt like a damn hour) for the door to click and began to slowly roll up. Backing away the half lycan noticed that Magna reached for her weapon and was quick to do the same. Just because something didn't immediately come flying at them as the door got higher didn't mean there wasn't anything in there.

Thankfully nothing living or dead attacked them once the door was all the way up, Kyleigh's eyes immediately falling to the red pick-up truck that sat inside. Looked like it hadn't been moved in some time, but there was no major damage on it, the tires were solid and she was informed that there was gas in the tank. Nice! Now this was the score they been waiting for. Of course she would give the vehicle a thorough once over, spotting a bit of rust along the bottom panel but that was expected. It was an older model but if the engine turned over it would definitely get them where they needed to go.

"Finally. If it starts we can load up then get out of here. When we get back to our spot I can give the engine a good look. Might be hard to find parts if we need them but shouldn't be impossible."

If anything was wrong with the truck she should be able to fix it with whatever they could find. As she walked around the automobile, checking it out, Kyleigh wondered if this was going to be the moment when Magna decided she didn't want to stay around any longer and took off. Would they get halfway to their hideout only for her to be kicked to the side of the road? Kyleigh hoped not, but if that's what Magna had planned it wasn't necessary. It was easy to find another car, all the other woman had to do was ask and this one could be hers.

Her thoughts were broken when her eyes landed on that scooter, a snort leaving her before she could stop it. The picture of one of them riding that thing with a bunch of the dead chasing them was hilarious but Kyleigh didn't dare laugh out loud. She was still afraid that they might hear it and all their hard work would have been for nothing. Instead she just nodded about the bike Magna had found outside, looking around for something that might help to secure it down. Some of the supplies hanging around would help too, but first she wanted to get the grill and the gas. Large things before the small, then check to see if the truck actually worked.

"Alright let's get that grill and shit loaded before we do anything else. There's some chains in here we can use to tie it down, then we can throw in the other stuff. Once that's done we can check to see if the engine fires up. No use in trying to get it out of here if it doesn't work right? Hopefully there won't be anymore of the dead out there and we can do this as quietly as possible."

A part of her wanted to ask if Magna was still on board with them sticking together, those previous thoughts nagging in her brain. The other part felt like it was better not to stir up that pot just yet. They had work to do, and the half lycan was damn sure she was not about to drag all that heavy shit around by herself. As a show of her own good faith Kyleigh placed her bag in the front seat of the truck. The both of the knew by now she wouldn't go anywhere without that, keeping her knife on her just in case.

[noctuadora]

"I can't."

a simple sentence that frustrated me to hell on my first watch. "what, that's it? why aren't you saying anything else to her? couldn't you explain?"

see, a lot (even me, initially) have interpreted his words as simply just:

"I can't give the chip because I can't let you expose the truth to the public." (they stop there.)

and this might've been the moment people accused him of becoming a corrupt government lapdog - whatever you name it. a year later however, it became clear to me (after reading tons of character studies about Leon lmao) that these words were meant to be interpreted as:

"I can't give the chip because I can't let you get hunted down by the government. I almost lost you, so I can't let you do this. I don't want you to die."

he mentioned it before to Shen Mei, who shared the same sentiments as Claire: "if I do that [give you the chip], you'll have every agent in the US hunting you." I couldn't help but wonder: if Leon -does- give the chip to Claire, is there a possibility that he'll also be assigned by the gov't to hunt her down too?

in the case of Claire: I've seen people say she was being immature, but think about it: she had seen the horrors of Raccoon City and witnessed what Sherry had been through. because of that, she dedicated her life to helping victims of bioterrorism. she has always been swift to justice, albeit reckless and driven by emotion. to me, it might've seemed like she did have an idea of what consequences there would be in store for her; but if it meant exposing the truth to the public and stopping another RC incident, she would put her life at risk.

that's just the way Claire is. and Leon understands. he knows. but his desire to protect her is stronger than I personally expected. and I don't even mean this from a shipping standpoint; this is also just the way Leon is when it comes to life itself.

it's impossible to save everyone. he knows that better than anyone else. yet he persists. time and again, he gave up his security, his safety, to save someone else. this time, it's no different.

he knows she's disappointed, and of course he's not fine with it (who would?). but it's okay for her to walk away from him, as long as she's alive and safe. as long as he can protect her, that's all that matters.

[cringelordofchaos]

"you're not SUPPOSED to relate to any of the characters here!" ok some people still do. relate to some of the characters here. or at least some of the traits they have. the world won't explode because of their existence.

[barbiegirldream]

Tag dumps are always beloved I want people to do them more

As for the rest I thought about that! But some parts of Dahlia's story contradict the idea that he's filtering through a mortal lens I think at least.

We know pre herald business Dahlia was just giving out advice like an on the go therapist. But after that he changes how he behaves how he speaks. Most notable in his entire vision story. But to just highlight a part of it. Dahlia begins to think he has to alter the way he behaves as the Herald of Barbatos in the name of the people and the church because it's what they Need even if it's not the exact truth.

And we can see through some things like More About Dahlia: IV Barbatos speaks to him more concisely than he speaks to literally anyone else in the entire verse. No poems or flowery riddles if he needs Dahlia to know something he tells it to him direct. Dahlia then knowing the people want the flowery words, as Dahlia discusses in his vision story, goes out of his way to make the words seem sacred before announcing it. In the way they think, Barbatos would speak to them through a herald.

Which also is interesting if you look at Paralogism. Dahlia called us to the meeting and takes credit for that but clearly with the overarching plan it wasn't really his idea. But Venti is there singing a little tune that Paimon huffs and goes "you could just Ask us for help" but Barbatos giggles in our face. The only person he's going to Ask or Tell to do anything is Dahlia.

And again on the vision story Dahlia argues in front of everyone the scriptures have nothing to do with Barbatos or his will because he uniquely knows that will. But knowing what the flock wants to hear, he learns their scriptures and prayers that he resented as a child.

funnily enough listening to his Birthday voice line is SUCH a good example. He sounds literally dead inside reciting the prayer before his voice lites up as he asks if we want to blow out the candles.

So everything Dahlia says is getting filtered through the lens of "this is what they want Barbatos to sound like so now they will listen to what he is really saying"

which would not allow much wiggle room for Dahlia own personal interpretations. But we know if Dahlia is confused about whatever the hell it is Barbatos wants all he has to do is pray.

And the Anemo Archon will clarify what it is he needs done. Something nobody else could get out of the confusing bard. The people of Mondsadt have nooo clue the level of favoritism going on here fr.

I grasp Dahlia's character in the sense of who HE is and WHY he has made the choices he's made. What led to the hydro vision... but what I don't get is why VENTI chose Dahlia.

What about Dahlia's "dull repetition was the greatest enemy of all" made Venti think he should be the one to speak as Barbatos. Dahlia was a true child of Mondstadt. And encouraged others to embrace freedom too. But Barbatos choosing Dahlia crushed him under the weight of vestments and scriptures. They're not an example of freedom to Dahlia but duty and we know from Furina duty can be the heaviest job of all.

So why oh why did Barbatos see one of his children who would hate the church but never have been happier than on the road seeing all of Tveyat and ask him Twice to work for the church. Once as a suggestion from Venti. And once as an actual request from Barbatos knowing none of his followers would ever deny him a thing. "Freedom when demanded of you by an archon is no freedom at all" is what he said when he encouraged freedom. Here with Dahlia it's not even a choice. I'm SO intrigued.

[lemonduckisnowawake]

You know. Something I noticed about myself is that I enjoy learning to like something. In other words, sometimes I "force" myself to like something or sit through it until I start to actually genuinely enjoy the piece of media. Because, sometimes, it's less about "forcing" and really about training yourself to the direction and way you care about being. I care about seeing better females written in fiction, for example? Then I'll force myself to sit through a story that is well-done, even if it doesn't grip me immediately or even at all. And sometimes, it'll be something I enjoy fondly, sometimes it'll end up consuming my life and give me a new genre to suffer and die over, which is actually the worst. BUT THE POINT

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

things i always want to know about each episode

my favorite part of posting recaps is when people share their thoughts in the notes! so here is a list of things i love hearing. of course, you are under no obligation to share these things, but it is appreciated when you do!

did you like the episode? or did you hate it? or was it just okay? and feel free to share why

is the episode well-regarded within the fandom? (<- this one is really interesting to me, because i have no frame of reference for what the wider fandom thinks. i like knowing if i hit a big fave or if i found something cool in a less well-regarded episode. or if i am justified in my hating because everyone else does too, haha)

(i also love when people comment that i liked an episode enough to make them re-evaluate how they see it... <3)

which moments from the episode made you laugh/aww/cringe/gasp/etc etc

any behind the scenes trivia/fun facts ALWAYS make me sososo happy and i loooove to learn about them

honestly any fandom lore makes me so excited too! i love hearing about the terminology for different episode groupings, which moments really went wild with the msr crowd, any discourse the episode provoked, what was going on with the actors at the time, etc

i'm sure there are a million more things i could think of, but the overall message is that i really love hearing your thoughts and opinions! it makes the time put in feel worthwhile. since i'm still running from spoilers, the notes on these posts are pretty much the only way i get to interact with the fandom, so it is a real treat. and again, no obligation to ever comment, but it sure is fun when it does happen!

(also, this is a blog where going back and reading/reblogging/leaving many comments upon posts from months ago is encouraged and appreciated, so please never feel that you have to stick to the newest ones i post! i made the masterpost so it can be slightly easier for you to do exactly that <3)

[dia-tribe]

ohhhhhhhhhhh so it isn't "is this thing Good or Bad" but actually "what does this thing tell us about ourselves/our world/each other"........ i think im starting to get it now

[idanit]

Thank you for the nice words <3 The game was simply called "Kwiatki" and is very easy.

visit a library: I visited a new library and got myself a new card. Libraries are like temples to me — spaces of silence and focus, devoted to reflection and joy. I need to go more often.

go to an art museum or a gallery: I went to an art student exhibition. It was a mixed bag, but overall inspiring, I'd say.

read some Polish poetry: I've been meaning to find some more poems of Tadeusz Nowak for a while and finally managed to do it. I learned about him from Grechuta's "Krajobraz z wilgą i ludzie", a song frankensteined from two separate Nowak poems (which explains why it's hard to follow the lyrics despite their beauty). Nowak writes about nature and the people living in the local landscape — their joys and their sadness — with such deep love. The space seems to be alive, forests behave like people, the wind moves like sand. He's also very sensitive to the mental landscape of people living in the countryside and trying to synthesize their Christianity with their more uneasy world of folktales, drunkenness, dance. The poems remind me of Leśmian (my beloved). There was one weak one in the book I picked, but overall, I love Nowak's poetic imagery, even when it's difficult to parse. Two excerpts from two different poems, "Dziewczyna" and "Dziadek":

Jeszcze o wiośnie chcę zagrać na flecie, ale się wstydzę, bo oto od rzeki idzie dziewczyna i mruży powieki. Ona się w sobie i we mnie kołysze ciałem, o które ociera się we śnie sen nasz i burza i w burzy czereśnie.

///

I oto nagle pułap się otwiera, do izby gwiazdy sypią się ze śniegiem, Bóg się przebudził, Bóg tańczy sztajera, a brzegiem nocy, snu białego brzegiem ucieka chłopiec z dymiącą czupryną. Pies śpi pod stołem, sadem chmury płyną.

discuss a book with people: I discussed "A Little Princess" of all things with a friend of mine, and we had a great discussion about how children's fiction originally written in English is often more compelling to Polish children than Polish children's fiction.

listen to some music by a Polish artist: I listen to a fair amount of Polish music and Spotify actually recommends me more of it than I want (not even respecting the genres I'm interested in). I'll take this opportunity to plug Kirszenbaum's "Zostawcie nas" (the lyrics by Tadeusz Różewicz can be found online under the title "Leave us alone") because I almost always cry when I listen to it.

watch a Polish movie or TV series: I watched "Zaklęte rewiry" (1975) because my partner and I liked the poster. [Spoilers to follow.] It was pretty good, very claustrophobic in a way I enjoyed; a movie about taking the moral high road while the word tries to strip you of your personhood. I'm so glad Fryc did not end up dead and got a job outside the city because he could have easily been killed off for the dramatic impact. I think him living, even beyond pleasing me from a character perspective, makes the movie a stronger story. It is, in the end, true that you could neither love nor die in such a restaurant, and the only way to leave the violence and dishonesty-based system of this workplace on your own terms is to literally walk away from the job. I wonder if Romek truly wrote to Hela, or saw Fryc again, for that matter. The copy I watched on YouTube had "PROPAGANDA" appearing on top of the screen every now and then and I wonder when the text was added. Were the PRL/PPR authorities worried that the images of a pre-war Poland would be too tempting and nostalgic for the viewer despite the violence of the film?

I wanted to at least try to take part in @polish-art-tournament's summertime bingo because this blog is such a warm presence on the Polish side of tumblr.

do an activity with a friend: I played two board games with a friend and her boyfriend in a stuffy attic on a warm June day — one game was about growing flowers and the other one about travelling to Japan.

take a walk in nature: I took a long walk through a forest and the Bug riverside. The weather was perfect, sunny and mild.

cook or bake something to share with others: maybe not in the spirit of the prompt, but I made a strawberry tart with a friend and shared it with her and one other person (I almost never bake anything, but this time I did most of the work).

draw something: I constantly draw and paint, so this is too easy — let's pick this unfinished drawing of a tombstone I made in an abandoned Jewish cemetery (writing not to scale).

paint something: No picture this time, but I painted some landscapes with watercolours.

go to a non-art museum: I visited a kayak museum! I didn't know they used to be made of fabric and some of them can be folded. Adding a photo to the "Polish priests blessing things" collection.

[5-htagonist]

i read the hunger games books multiple times over as a kid, and i didnt like katniss' ending at first, bc my hyperlexic ass could read the words long before i could REALLY Comprehend the concepts, but as soon as i got a firm understanding of aromanticism and trauma and and etcetc... i like it a lot now

[no1cutiepatootie]

<3

[lizardho]

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about some of the people I interact with. I have a coworker who I am pretty sure is a MAGA type, and she is also a lovely woman who is dreadfully overworked and so good at connecting to patients when they call. I can see the conflict on her face when she talks to me, a gigantic tranny dork who speaks Spanish and affirms the LGBT community, but can also talk to her about her cows and knows about guns and stuff. I can see the fear in the eyes of my former Young Men’s leader when he misgenders me and realizes that I’m not an ideology but a person he has known for a long time. I can see the way my extended family stop and stutter over political discussions when they realize they are talking about me. And I don’t know why but lately it’s just made me think about my neighbor as a kid.

When we moved to Arizona, we moved next door to a lovely retired couple - John and Lucy. John was a veteran of WWII, he had an M.D. and a Ph.D. in radiology, and he LOVED us to pieces. His wife, Lucy, was a sharp and gifted woman - well spoken, very observant, and VERY clever. I just know that she used that cleverness as a mom to great effect, because with my and my siblings she always managed to find a way to send us home with candy and treats for a week despite my dad’s protests. We loved them, growing up, and even though they have long-since passed away I love them still, and I love what I learned from them.

John was, as stated, a WWII veteran. He was enlisted as a rifleman, and later as a front line medic, starting at Point Du Hoc and moving inwards to France and towards the Rhine. He let me do a report on him in 6th grade where he shared war stories with me he had kept to himself his whole life - he said it was out of respect for his friends who didn’t get to come home and tell their stories.

He said he told me because he knew I could respect the memories of his friends.

He showed me his collection of medals, and which he’d kept hidden away in a sock in his attic because he’d feel an immense grief any time he saw them. He had wanted to be a doctor his whole life, prior to being drafted he was studying medicine and had taken the Hippocratic oath to Do No Harm. He saw his medals as a reminder that he had Done Harm.

After telling me his stories he was able to convince himself that while he had Done Harm, it was only because his only other alternative was, to him, cowardice. He chose to be brave even if it meant acting against his Oath because he felt that if he didn’t do it someone else would have to go in his place and he would be responsible for the harm that befell them. I don’t think that’s true, but for him it was and that was something no being on earth could have ever dissuaded him from believing.

He shared wild stories - melee combat on the beach, clearing artillery bunkers, receiving a Purple Heart for being injured in hand-to-hand combat with a Wehrmacht rifleman he said he felt pity for because they were the same age and he had to imagine the man he was fighting had been drafted just like him.

He shared how he was awarded a Silver Star for charging a machine gun nest, but shared that he was most proud of not killing anyone in the process. He threw a grenade with the pin still in it and when the machine gunners jumped to avoid being blown up they were killed by someone else so he didn’t have to do it. He took the machine gun and shot the other machine gun in that French field to pieces so he didn’t have to kill the people operating it. He said they were giving out Silver Stars like candy but I knew he was being modest.

He told me about being redesignated as a medic, about how he crawled for about 500 yards on his belly to rescue an injured tank driver, then threw him over his back and crawled the same 500 yards back (1000 yards total) to treat his injuries. He said he met the man in an Army hospital in England after his spine was broken by a high explosive panzer shell was fired through a hollowed out French farmhouse and landed about 20 feet away from him.

He told me about all the people he helped and saved as a medic, he told me about his work in radiology and research after the war. He showed me a hallway that was quite literally wallpapered with academic honors he’d earned as a researcher. He told me about how his first Fourth of July back was a horror show for him because fireworks and German artillery make very similar sounds. He told me about how he woke up in a cold sweat well over half a century later hearing the screams of German artillery men being burned alive with flamethrowers, or hearing his own voice apologizing to the young German soldier he stabbed in the heart at Point Du Hoc.

He told me that when he was asked to present at a medical conference in Germany 25 years after the war ended that he was so scared he couldn’t step off the plane, and that his wife had to hold his hand and lead/pull him with her. He said he was not scared because he was worried about being triggered, but because he knew that someone somewhere outside of that plane had the course of their life irreparably altered by his military service. That to someone out there he was the cause of immense suffering and harm. That some unwitting waiter could be the son of the Nazi Officer he stabbed in the heart with a 12-inch hunting knife. That some woman asking questions in the audience would be the daughter or widow of a man he sent to judgement with a .30-06. He was scared that they would hate him.

He knew what the Nazi’s had done, he knew better than anyone I’d ever met. He’d watched the documentaries, he’s seen the PoWs returning from camps, he’d seen the civilians massacred and tortured by their regime, but he also knew that among the monsters were people like him - idealistic 20-somethings who only wanted to make the world better and were ripped away from that life by the Nazi war machine. And he spent his whole life mourning the loss of innocence and peace that was forced on so many people by such a corrupt power.

To be honest I don’t know if I could do that, but he could. He told me he could still feel the dead and lost with him, both when he slept and when he woke. He told me he thought he’d go to his grave never having told a word of this to anyone. That the stories of him and his friends and allies would disappear silently with him and those like him. That he had wanted that until he realized that he didn’t have to sell out to share the stories - that he could give the stories away for free to someone who would love the people in them, and not just the content of them. He didn’t want his stories to be used as Patriotic Pornography by some TV network or magazine. He wanted the people he knew to be respected, he wanted their memories to be honored and loved, and he entrusted me, a 12-year-old “boy” to do that.

He told me for years afterwards that after telling me these stories that he slept better than he ever had. That by sharing the stories with someone who could hear Him over the din of victory and glory and honor and revisionistic history. Someone who could see the man in the story and not just see the plot of a battle being won. He wanted to be human, and he wanted the people he saw die to be human too - everyone, not just the people on his side. He wanted someone to see and to know the anguish of having to look someone in the eye as heartblood muddies the ground beneath them and hope that they understand that this was not an act of love or hatred but an act of desperation. To hope that you had just taken out One Of The Bad Ones instead of a medical student or a poet who had been drafted. He wanted me to see how hard he had worked since then to build a world without scarcity, to build a world of peace. He wanted me to know SO badly that the cost of violence, any violence, even necessary violence, is always ALWAYS paid by both parties involved.

I think about the rise of the new right wing - the new Nazi movement’s traction in politics, and I feel sad and scared - the world that Johnathan J Yobaggy, my neighbor, my friend, and my hero, worked SO hard to build is being done away with by people who do not understand the cost of the path they are entering. I can see brief moments of recognition in the eyes of some of the people I mentioned - The former young men’s president who immediately regrets misgendering me and hen he makes eye contact with me and sees Me staring back at him and not a faceless “ideology.” I can hear it in the voice of my uncle who quietly comes up to me to apologize for some homophobic comment he made absentmindedly. I can see it in the eyes of racists and sexists being interviewed on TV when they realize that they didn’t vote for a concept, they voted for a real thing. And honestly, I have mixed emotions about it. Because while I understand frustration with the status quo, the importance of basic human needs like affordable good and rent, and I know the fear that comes with feeling powerless, I also can’t help but grieve the endless wheel of history bringing us back to this God Damned Fucking Place again. I hope we can avoid this fate, not just for our sake but for the sake of everyone who has ever tried to make the world safer. For everyone who has ever tried to make up for human nature, for everyone who has ever placed themselves on the offering plate to protect others from the cruelty they know lies just under the surface of mankind’s tenuous grip on progress. I want SO badly for there to be a solution to this, for the people who idolize the Nazi party and the impact of fascism to see that the price of this path is paid in more than just blood but in soul. That they’re allowing themselves to be devoured too. I want for the centrists and the fence sitters and the idealists who want to “change it from the inside” to see how dangerous our politics have become. I want them to see that they’re losing the things that make them great in exchange for a security blanket that’s now become far far far too small to ever work for them again.

Safety found in the past is already gone, and safety found in the future is only as real as a daydream. That any ideology that promises that by “joining us now we’ll make things rough so we can make things safe in a decade” is a promise made by those who will not have to fight the battles they send you to.

I don’t know if America was ever really great, but as long as John was alive it felt great to me. There is no ideology that can replace a neighbor. No tax plan that can replace a friend. No grocery bill that can replace community and connection. No amount of budget cuts that can replace kindness. No amount of suffering from people I hate that will ever make more love. I don’t know how to make America great, but I know how to make my America great and it is not by selling out integrity and compassion and community and fucking humanity to make eggs and gas cheaper. It is by seeing and hearing the people around me. I’m not Mormon anymore, but I still know the value of mourning with those that mourn and comforting those that stand in need of comfort. I’m not Christian anymore but I still have Eyes That Can See and Ears That Can Hear. I want to make this all stop but I can’t stop the collective power of tens of millions of people so instead I listen to my MAGA coworker tell me about how sick her kid was last week. I make jokes with my Young Men’s leader. I hug my uncle. I let them see me fully, as a human and not an ideology. As a woman and not the concept of gender. As a whole person and not someone who can be easily summarized or boiled down into something short and quippy. And I let them know I can see them fully too, and I can see all their humanity as easily as they can see mine. I just have to hope that this works - that enough people can See and Hear the people in their lives who matter to them to bring them out of their personal world of forms and into the real world.

I am probably, honestly, just spiraling a little bit. I took my ADHD meds today and in addition to helping me focus they make me a little anxious so I doubt things are as bad right now as they seem. But just in case there’s any truth to the way things seem to be going, remember, and I mean this seriously: Be kinder to each other, be gayer, and read more Terry Pratchett.

And for the love of god day hello to your neighbor.

[arcanemarion]

re: consequences and "It's been 20 minutes!"

It's unfortunate that this particular point seems to have been missed.

In much of that final episode, nearly everything that could have had even a hint of consequence was either waved off as basically "it's fine", ignored, or spent an awkwardly long time making sure that no lasting consequence had to be borne. It (combined with many other moments leading up to it) undermined the weight of what happened for many people.

Wanting a fluffy happy ending for everyone because the world is literally on fire is understandable; that doesn't mean that it's going to make for good storytelling.

At the end of C2 a lot of people were bitching about all the unwrapped threads because there was so much left yet to do, but there's virtually none of that left for anyone in C3. I have a hard time envisioning what direct consequences or effects BH are going to collectively face for what they did months after the fact. Honestly, 20 minutes after the actual event sure seems like that's when they would face flack for their decision the most, and all they really got was a couple of people being angry at them instead of treating them like heroes. So really, yeah, it all feels pretty toothless and inconsequential, but especially because none of them changed.

Some of the most powerful moments in the finale were the gods appearing to their followers to say goodbye, but none of BH had that because they have 0 connection to them. Subsequent world consequences for their decision will affect (or at least should) other people disproportionately to them, and that's where the more interesting stories will be.

I don't doubt Matt's ability to contrive something for them to do, but my interests in subsequent Exandrian content lies outside of anything to do with BH.

[fishdoghorseboy]

I wonder why I don't hear many stories about people who are socially fail and don't have many friends and are scared to talk and say words. Then again, the people who WOULD tell those stories are scared to talk and say words. And also, I suppose it could be difficult to make a compelling character who doesn't interact with other characters. Or I'm just not looking the right places for stories. I would take recommendations.