#it felt apt to apply it here

[zoe-oneesama]

So is the "don't remember names of daughters" a tsundere thing from Audrey or she does it unconsciously???

(also idk if you answerd this alredy but what about Zoe's dad?)

It's def not a tsundere thing, it's an Audrey thing. It's also a thing that I cannot for the life of me justify? It'd be one thing if she got her daughters mixed up with each other, with them looking on the surface similar (blonde hair, blue eyes), and having close enough names, like she did in "Adoration"...but she called Chloe "Casserole" at one point.

Hilarious, sure, but like, wtf Audrey, how do you even fuck up that badly?

And one more time for the cheap seats, this is in no way my explanation for Audrey in canon, this is purely SL's Version of Audrey. I cut out her ordering around the Butler and Andre and left out her falling for Chloe because Chloe was being an asshole to the same Butler, and obviously we never got as far as she did in "Revolution" where she was in near happy tears when her Mayor Daughter went full dictator on Paris. Just like Lila, I cut her off at the knees before she could become her true awful self, but that does not reflect on how I feel about the canon characters.

I made Audrey a tsundere to give Chloe a freaking chance.

[slocumjoe]

It's not intentional even a little but I super thought of synths as being a trans-allegory. I wouldn't be able to explain why.

anon thank u for the opportunity to talk about

synths as trans allegory! (warning for transphobia discussion, unfortunately)

Unrelated, trans people have the best flag, no contest.

The first thing I thought of, here, was;

The Self-Admitted Synth encounter.

Y'all know this, but a rundown anyway; Jules, the guy in the blue with the man bun, is a synth. He escaped from the Institute and began traveling with Angie and Fred. Eventually, he felt comfortable enough with them to admit he was a synth, only to be marked for death.

Jules has a line that made this encounter stand out, when thinking of trans allegory;

"Because I thought you were my friends!"

Jules admitted he was a synth to Angie and Fred, because he assumed that he could trust them with this vulnerable secret. He couldn't. He didn't know until he was punished for it.

Let's look at synths for a minute. As a whole.

The concept of the Synth is, so I mentioned before, an 'enemy in disguise.' Their role is to infiltrate towns and the populace at large for the Institute, doing whatever needs doing. They often take the place of an already-existing person. McDonough, for example, was killed and replaced with an Institute synth after he was elected mayor. He was replaced because having an agent run the largest settlement in the Commonwealth was beneficial for the Institute.

The point of the Synth is that anyone could be one, and if they aren't a synth, they could be replaced at any time. For my analog horror girlies (kiss kiss mhwa mhwa), Synths are like Alternates, if the Alternates had no distortion to their features to give them away. A perfect visual copy. You don't know someone is a synth unless you kill them and root around the brains for the little chip in their head. This chip isn't common knowledge, I believe, so most people wouldn't even have that to confirm.

With the trans allegory reading, "I am scared that my neighbors are institute synths" becomes "I am scared my neighbors are trans." This works! This works like hell! For one, there's the aspect of not knowing until you root around the, for lack of better word, suspect's biology. You won't know someone is trans unless you assault and strip them. You won't know someone is a synth unless you assault and rummage through their brains for the chip. Another aspect that relates to transness is, most synths are literally not themselves. They have to play a role that is not them. A role they are forced into at birth. Here, you can also apply Institute rhetoric as transphobia. The Institute claims that synths are not people. "You are not your own person, you are, scientifically, what you are made to be" can easily be applied to a trans person having their identity shut down and feelings disregarded. You can even bring the wiping by Amari into it, as a kind of...transitioning? Removing the 'role' the synth is meant to play, so they can be themselves. That one is kind of a stretch, but the concept of undergoing a procedure for your own personl freedom and right to self-expression is apt. If you want, you could also bring in the controversy of the procedure, and whether or not you should want it/should always undergo it if possible. (AN; trans people don't need procedures to be trans, just throwing that out there)

So, those are just some reasons that you might look at synths and go hell yeah, trans androids! Transdroids? That feels like a slur from 4chan. Anyway, I wanna go into Danse and Curie, specifically, here, because THOSE BITCHES READ AS TRANS, HOLY SHIT.

Starting with Curie, she is, like, extremely trans woman to me. I don't know how trans girlies (kiss kiss mhwa mhwa) actually feel about her, but Curie reminds me strongly of trans woman experiences I've read. The positive experiences of transitioning or when they first start dressing and expressing themselves as women. I completely forgot the word for it. Anyway. Curie feels limited in her Ms. Nanny body, and asks for help to, let's just say it, transition into a synth body. Once this is done, Curie gets to see the world in a whole new light, and finds herself very happy and curious in a world she thought she knew, but now sees as something to explore and enjoy further now that she isn't limited. She often has some negative experiences that frustrate her, but ultimately, Curie's knowledge of the world through science becomes genuine delight and enthusiasm. Where once she looked at it somewhat clinically, she gets to experience things in such a way that makes it all new, and exciting, and fun.

Danse does not get this joyous, whimisical experience. Danse is an escaped synth who forgets he's a synth. Amnesia, or was he wiped? Don't know. Either way, he joins the Brotherhood and hates synths because Maxson said to. He goes through his life respected, but somewhat outcasted. People admire him, but he doesn't have any friends, no one he's close to. Despite speaking highly of his brothers and sisters, it's easy to tell that their bond is purely professional. They're coworkers, not family, and Danse doesn't actually have anyone in his corner, not to that level of intimacy (platonic or otherwise). He had Cutler, and Haylen looks out for him out of respect and a small personal bond, but Danse very much is an outsider. He sticks out wherever he is. Eventually, a DNA profile match outs him for what he is, but didn't know he was. He flees, and all of the people he would have died for very much want him to die for their cause. Turns out, he stuck out for a reason, there was always something in him that made him Other.

Curie's story is one of finding joy and pleasure in this new, exciting existence. Danse is one of realizing what you are, after being raised to loathe it, and finding yourself in grave, immediate danger. Both are trans experiences. X6, I don't think reads as trans very much, not like these two do. There is something to be said for Nick, though.

With Nick, his...deal...is so literal it's actually kind of hard to read it as trans? Like, Nick is trans, he just is, argue with the wall. But...

Nick's deal is that, before the bombs, a human Nick Valentine got his brain scanned and copied. Later, the Institute took that scan and put it in a Gen 2.5 synth, then chucked that synth in the trash. Later, that synth, having the memories, personality, and self-perceived identity of Nick Valentine, just called himself Nick Valentine, because who else could he be?

Nick suffers from a kind of literal imposter syndrome, as well as body dysphoria, having been flesh and blood one moment, than metal and...plastic (?) the next. There's also a body horror aspect to him, what with his body wearing down over time, and his organs being easily accessible with the skin/plating appearing detachable. Then you also have to account for his head/brain being a computer. How does he visually see the world? Is it 1s and 0s, code being translated into a camera/visual feed?

Nick is so specific that it's harder to replace 'synth' with 'trans' in his story. Danse's paragraph, i could literally find+replace and the story effortlessly becomes about transphobia. Nick would be weird, because trans people don't have detachable skin plating or cameras for eyes. Not that I know of, anyway.

The Railroad, in particular, is an interesting case. Long-time rubberneckers of this blog will know I hate that faction. But with a trans allegory, they...kind of work better? The name still sucks. But rather than being a 1-1 of the Underground railroad freeing slaves, they become a network of people getting trans folks to safety, and getting them whatever medical procedures they need/want. This works better because...trans people are actually...undetectable, I guess? In game, synths are supposed to be black people. That's why the Railroad is called the Railroad. It's a copy of the actual Railroad. But black people...you know they're black. I've mentioned how dumb this is with Piper. Piper is constantly accusing the mayor of being of African descent, with the coding/allegory of "synths are black slaves." The problem here is that, again, the point of synths is that you can't tell they're synths.

Obligatory "Glory is literally just Harriet Tubman" because I will die screaming this until Todd answers for his crimes.

The trans allegory gets kinda weird with Acadia...like...Dima making uhmmm fuck what her name. Kim? Kay? Kimiko...Kiriko...KASUMI, making KASUMI think she's a synth. That gets a bit into red-hat rhetoric, if you get my meaning.

But let's go back to Piper. Just for a moment.

We always come back to Piper, don't we.

With the trans allegory, PIPER IS EVEN WORSE! "OUR MAYOR IS TRANSGENDER" LOCAL WOMAN SCREAMS, "WE MUST DESTROY HIM, FOR HE IS AN AGENT OF THE EVIL GOVERNMENT!"

So, conlusion, a trans allegory is better than the slave allegory, especially because it makes Piper look even fucking dumber with even worse writing!

Also, Nick is trans, trans people don't need to transition, and I still hate the railroad. Happy pride! I ate cotton candy oreos to get in the spirit of this mini-essay because they're pink and blue!!! I LOVE RAINBOW CAPITALISM😀

[alrightbuckaroo]

Happy Wednesday, everyone - here's my obligatory, 'It was just Sunday!'. Thanks to @whatsintheboxmh, @thisbuildinghasfeelings, @heartstringsduet, @orchidscript, @carlos-in-glasses, @paperstorm and @three-drink-amy for the tags! In honor of all the lovely little discussions I've been seeing about bottom!Carlos on the dash, it feels only apt to share something from 5+1 Carlos character study that delves into just that!

TK enters Carlos and Carlos swears he can feel himself unravel underneath TK’s fingers. He can feel every sense of worry, trepidation and apprehension unfurl. There’s a hitch in his breath, and TK, being the attentive man that Carlos loves so much, can’t help but notice it. 

“Is this okay?” There’s a slight pressure applied to his hips, the pads of TK’s thumbs making a semblance of a mark. Carlos knows what TK’s trying to say, I’m here, and I’ll stop, just say the word. 

Carlos sighs and it’s filled with unbridled ecstasy. “This is perfect.” 

It’s cliche, but Carlos has always thought having sex with TK was something different.

With TK, it’s never been fucking, it’s always been making love; even in the beginning days of he and him. Even now, especially now, Carlos feels taken care of under TK’s touch. He feels thought of, he feels considered.

He feels loved. 

Sex with TK, any and each way they have it, has always felt good. It’s rooted in a deep seated pleasure that’s been unearthed from the moment they met. 

open tag + no pressure tags under the cut :)

@reyesstrand, @strandnreyes, @bonheur-cafe, @freneticfloetry, @lightningboltreader, @carlos-tk, @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut, @lemonlyman-dotcom, @basilsunrise, @welcometololaland, @rmd-writes, @birdclowns, @ambiguouspenny, and @herefortarlos :)

[raayllum]

how long would you say you've actively shipped any of your favorite ships? - im curious specifically about sorvus, sorpeli, and claudiez

I wouldn't say Sorvus is one of my faves even if I do 1) love Soren and Corvus individually, 2) Corvus is one of my favourite side characters in the whole show (like top 5) and 3) I do really like them! That being said:

Canon

For the bulk of TDP ships, canon-wise, I shipped them as their relationships were revealed (aka Harrow/Sarai with the info we got in S1, Claudia/Terry with the info we get in S4, Runaan/Ethari back when he was known as 'Tinker' thanks to the S1 credit sketch, etc).

For Janaya, I shipped them from the first time they met in S2, since "rival intellectually and physically matched generals on the battlefield" along with both being very pretty is a decently long-ish homoerotic trend in literature (aka a production I saw of "Coriolanus" really leaned in on it, although I think I saw that pre-S2's release. Applies though)

For Rayllum, I shipped them pre-show even if I was also down to brotp them. They'd be travelling together, thus having plenty of time to develop an interesting dynamic / were around the same age, and the screencap released before the premiere of them sitting under the tree (Callum, distracted but eager, and Rayla, exasperated and fond) really drew me in since that's a ship type - dynamic and gender wise (I don't tend to love ships where the guy is the more grumpy/guarded one, I think, since women are so often forced to do More of the emotional labour in relationships Anyway) - I'm already Very susceptible to. I tried to hold off a little bit in early S1 cause I didn't want to ship them too hard, but then 1x05 came along with the boat scene and it was Over for me. They've had my heart ever since (5 years going on forever)

Requested Rarepairs

Sorvus

So I didn't really ship Sorvus (although I was never opposed to them) for the majority of the time post-S3. I didn't really ship Soren with anyone and preferred Gren/Corvus at that time (due to their personalities / closer dynamic to Amaya and therefore each other) as well as enjoying Corvus/Opeli. However I was also really hoping that Corvus would stay on the council/with Ezran, and figured that if Soren was going to end up with anyone, Corvus was probably the most realistic choice (shared goals, decent development, timeskip to help things, similar ages).

That said I still didn't actively ship them (like I didn't mind them but was completely impassive/neutral y'know?) until I wrote an interaction between them in "if heaven and hell decide" (a canon divergent S2 where Claudia and Soren decide to delay their betrayal of the trio, and therefore travel with them for much longer) and the fact that Corvus would see Soren at his worst in canon (S2) but also see and appreciate who Soren was becoming... I started to turn a corner and grew to ship them a lot more. I'm really excited for them to eventually be canon, it seems, even if they're not My Endgame for either character In My Head for years-post war, at least for now.

Claudiez

For aged up Claudia/Ezran, I think this post (dated July 2021) was when I started to ship these two. There was something about the interplay of Claudia telling Callum about Harrow's death, but he only seeks out comfort from Rayla, and Ezran rejecting Rayla's offered comfort about Harrow and instead accepting it from Claudia, that felt very apt to me? And then a couple weeks later I wrote my formal "I actually do ship Claudiez and here's why" meta so it's been a few years now!

Both the younger sibling uniquely given their father's mantle to carry in ways their older brother just doesn't have to; Ezran being connected to all nature while Claudia continually perverts it, thus Ezran having the relationship to nature that she needs to learn/acquire for her own healing additionally; they both see the throne as a tool to help and breaking their fathers' cycles with each other; the childhood friends to enemies to friends to lovers of an according slow burn because of said age gap; ending up as Queen of Katolis but not the way her father imagined and ending up with one of the brothers, just not the one everyone previously expected; Ezran getting to grow up and into his own and assert his independence and choices (no matter what his brother thinks about it), etc. I also think personality wise they suit each other - Terry's parallels to Ezran in personality are some of the reasons I think Clauderry works at least as a short term pairing.

It's also kinda perfect bc, since they'd only get together like 10-15 years post the end of the show Anyway, so like. they're Endgame to me no matter what and there's nothing canon can really do about it, #improvise adapt overcome.

Sorpeli

This probably started out as the truest crack ship because it started as a joke of like, Soren flirting with her at 20 and easy to dismiss and then again when he's 30 and Opeli is like "I deserve a little fun," so they start having a physical fling, and then catch feelings (Soren falls first, she falls harder). The earliest post I have for them is from May 6th 2023 but I know realistically I'd probably shipped them for a lot longer (what can I say, younger men not being put off my older women aging bc society is bullshit, and contrasting personalities + devoted man & woman who feels undeserving will always get me) before I ever had mind to say anything. Then I dragged @jelzorz into it and the rest, they say, is history. So like 1.5 years at least now?

I'd probably be even more into Sorpeli than I already am but I'm not unconvinced that Opeli won't die (I really hope she doesn't, but I do understand how it could benefit Ezran's narrative in particular) but like if all seasons pass by and she's alive? Canon crack quartet with Endgame Rayllum, Claudiez, Sorpeli, and CorTerry is a go <3

TLDR;

Rayllum before the show started, Janaya in S2, everything else when the ships got introduced, then next we have Claudiez (July 2021), Sorvus (casually since Oct 2021), and Sorpeli (late 2022/early 2023).

[latibvles]

when i'm all over your mouth.

part two of the priest x vampire au that nobody asked for. read part one here. Rated M for Mature, toeing that line of being rated E for Explicit because hey maybe no clothes come off but we certainly are toeing some lines over here, aren't we. this really got away from me. I may or may not also be throwing this on AO3 because great Googly Moogly this got long. Gore and blood warnings apply yada yada yada also not proofread again we die like men

She remembers the last time she fed off a person. She wishes that she was older — so that the memory might fade into a life she doesn’t remember living. But if she’s learned anything, it’s that getting what she wants isn’t very likely. She’ll live a dozen lives and likely never forget a thing. If things went her way, she might’ve been able to avoid this journey of coming to terms with her own existence. Her being wouldn’t have taken new meaning at all.

She remembers her mother’s eyes, cold and lifeless, and she remembers how every part of her was so terribly pale. The mangled state of her throat — the creature, no, soldier, with that same blood on the front of his white shirt, staining the lower half of his face and dripping from his beard.

He’d turned her into what she is now and all she saw was red. She hardly remembers the details, but she’ll never forget the taste of his blood — so dark it was near black. It clung to her throat, burned, made her retch and vomit long after she’d torn his windpipe from him, long after she’d hacked his head off with the ax they used for chopping wood to ensure he wouldn’t rise again. It was bitter. It burned. It stank. She’d screamed and cried and cursed him for allowing her to live as she does now. And she hadn’t had a drop of blood from another person in the eighty-four years since.

Until Ron, which wasn’t her plan. But she knows if she were to tell him it was never going to happen again, he’d call her bluff.

He was good at that — reading things, reading her, and it’s frightening in its own way. The only thing to truly frighten her since that day. More than the wars she’d served in, more than the sun in winter.

Twice more, she drinks from his wrist, because he offers, and they argue until they can’t anymore. He’s good at that. Arguing. It’s frustrating, because his logic is always infuriatingly sound. It’s annoying, because yes, he’s right, black burns that would’ve taken weeks to heal are healing quicker now and it is because of his blood.

She doesn’t know how to tell him the taste of him undoes the foul taste she always wished to forget. The very thought makes her feel as though she’s teetering on the edge of a ledge that crumbles a bit more with every brush of her mouth against his wrist, every time his pulse hammers against her awaiting lips and he stares straight through her.

He’s the sickness. He can’t also be the cure. That isn’t how anything works.

Ron draws her closer each time she sinks her teeth into his wrist — the third time, what she hoped to be the last time, his fingers dug into her hip, tight enough to leave an indent on her skin, leaned up against her countertop and she couldn’t help but hold his stare.

The air between them was tense afterward. Or maybe tense wasn’t the right word. Electric felt more apt, he stared at her lips in a way she recognized.

Daisy was no stranger to the look of desire on his face — the look on any man’s face. What was foreign to her was the fact that if he kissed her breathless right then and there, she wouldn’t have minded. She might’ve turned to putty in his hands. But if she had, would that make her any better than the invasive bloodsucking myth her existence stemmed from? She didn’t think she had it in her to take from him when he’d already given to her — more than she’d ask of any person.

Just a drop of him, from his wrist no less, and she swears she might be hooked. Her curiosity is piqued — something she has to beat back now for the sake of herself and his personal safety.

One of the few things she prided herself on was her dedication to learning more about her condition — the science of it, not relenting despite the scarcity of reliable source material. She knows through personal experience that all blood tastes… different. Depending on the creature, depending on where it comes from. She knows that his wrist would be different from his neck, knows that to many, there’s an implication behind it that she won’t inflict him with. He isn’t hers to keep and being hers would likely be forsaking the principles of his line of work. It wasn’t fair.

There are other traditions she’s learned about that aren’t nearly as damning, even treading the line of sentimental.

“You’re good at that.” He observes, watching with a curious eye as she dices carrots on the cutting board. It’s a compliment, she knows it is, but she can’t help but snort at the boyish way he watches.

“If I didn’t get good at this with eighty years of experience then there’d be a problem.” He shakes his head, trying to dissuade that twitch of the corner of his mouth at her attempt at a joke, which makes her smile in turn.

“And this is…”

“Well I could call it a thank you,” Daisy keeps her gaze trained on her hands now, in part not to cut her finger and in part because she can already feel Ron’s stare honing in on her. “Or me paying you back, but that makes things sound too… transactional. So we’ll just say it’s my turn to feed you for a change,” she continues, the only other noise being the sound of the cutting board hitting the wood. “Plus, it’s chilly out. That’s stew weather.”

She dares take a glance at him through her peripheral vision, at his messy hair and innately imposing stature. This morning, he was in the typical black shirt and white collar she’d seen on him so many times before. His hair was combed and he stood a fair distance from those who came to talk to the Father, his face straigh and stern, hardly shifting when she approached him.

It’s like he’s shed a layer in her personal space like this, hair tousled from the winter wind kicking up on his way over. Handsome would be the way to describe it, and that very fact has her face flushing, heart pounding in her ears — although not nearly as quick as she anticipates it to be. There’s something domestic about the whole thing in a way she always assumed would remain foreign to her. She’s about to take the carrots to the pot by the stove, but he takes them first.

“What’re you doing?” He shrugs, brings it over to the pot and slides it in.

“Helping.” Ron’s reply is so simple she could strangle him. Daisy scrunches her nose.

“You make it really hard to pay you back, you know that?” He’s crossing that small space to approach her again, lays the cutting board flat on the countertop with a small shrug and quirk of his lip. Daisy’s deciding he gets far too much amusement out of bewildering her in the way he does.

“So don’t pay me back,” Ron counters, with his hand curling around her own on the knife. “Cook us dinner, and let me help.”

“You told me you were no good in the kitchen.”

“I think I can handle a knife.”

“Your affection for pointy things mildly concerns me.” Ron grins at that again, and in their back and forth he’s gotten closer to her. She can feel the warmth radiating off of him, identify those flecks of green in the hazel of his eyes. More importantly, she sees how his pupils almost dilate at what she’s just said — and Daisy’s now acutely aware the knife isn’t the only pointy thing in the room.

And not the only thing that holds his affection.

She can feel her heart begin to beat a little quicker, but the rhythm in her chest doesn’t match the one in her ears. She doesn’t even think he realizes she hasn’t quite moved until she tilts her head up to look at him. He’s not flushed like she is, holding her stare and looking her over with what she can only assume is relative ease. Still, the air feels vaguely like it did the last time she drank from him.

Electric.

Daisy leans a bit closer to him, despite that voice in her head screaming for separation. She wants to be closer. Impossibly so. Pressed flush against him and feel the warmth of him. Was it hunger? Or just plain desire. Daisy isn’t especially sure. She lets go of the knife and instead he takes a hold of her hand, squeezing as she tilts her head up and towards him. There’s that pulse beating through his wrist, his hand, as she approaches. Quickening, the only thing matching that pounding in her ears. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.

She can hear his heartbeat.

Don’t.

It’s her teeth in his neck before she even realizes she’s gotten close enough to reach him.

That dark taste of his blood spills onto her tongue like spiced liquor, as though it were waiting for her bite. She can’t help the noise muffled by his skin, the whimper that escapes. Ron groans and Daisy thinks her knees might go weak. He’s not even pliant against her, he’s pulling her towards him with steady hands, lowering into one of the chairs at the kitchen table and pulling her into his lap. His entire body shudders against her and his pulse hammers against her lips once he settles. His fingers weave into her hair, like he’s trying to press her closer to that spot. Liquid fire, water in the desert, sweet and spiced and intoxicating and somehow so very Ron.

His being floods her senses. She lets him.

A ship in Boston Harbor. Girlish laughter. Warmth. Gunpowder. Snow. Dark alleys. Cigarettes. Men’s laughter. Shellings. Running, running, running. Kisses in a back alley. Hands fisting skirts. Whispered sighs. Nothing of the holy man he’s meant to be. His nails digging into her hip pull her back into the present and it takes all the sense she has to pull off him. Ron is panting, and so is she as she stares at him — chests heaving in time.

She can still hear his heartbeat. She’d be able to even if his front wasn’t so shamelessly pressed to hers. She thinks she’d know it even if she were blind.

“I’m sorry, this isn’t—” she stammers, and she’d climb off him were it not for his grip on her, still so sure, so tight. Keeping her in his lap like he meant for her to be there the whole time. Instead, she hides, ducking her head into his shoulder. “This isn’t why I invited you over I— I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t stop.”

The words are so hoarse it barely registers that it’s Ron saying it. Not until she lifts her head to look at him, and gets a good look at what exactly she must’ve done to him.

Only now, is his face flushed, lips parted and hand still in her hair as though he means to caress it.

“What?”

“Don’t stop,” he repeats, firmer now, more coherent. “And don’t apologize, either.” It’s stern, the way he says it. Like the voice that flooded her senses — barking commands, bringing a woman to her peak. Part of her could sink her teeth in right now, but she���s scrambling for some kind of sense, reaching for self-control.

“I- I can’t— that wasn’t, isn’t—”

The hand in her hair pulls her towards him until his mouth is crushing against hers in a way that’s so messy it has her lips parting on a gasp, her hips rolling almost reflexively. The words hunger and desire flash behind her eyelids once more and she pushes it to the back of her mind to focus on the feeling of his lips, of his teeth dragging on her bottom lip to tug at it. He tastes like a cigarette and mint. She can feel it — the scraps of his resolve are crumbling beneath her, how he breaks whatever promises he made to his God with each squeeze of her hip.

He pulls away only after he’s effectively stolen the air from her lungs, his mouth now stained with his own blood.

“Yes, you can, sweetness,” Ron breathes out, his breath fanning over her face. “Bite me. Drink from me. It’s fine. I want it.” His voice toes that line between almost soothing and downright commanding — a line he somehow managed to create.

But that was the thing about him. Intoxicating, baffling, frustrating, she isn’t especially sure how it is he exists in the way he does. But she’s grateful that he does. She says nothing for a few moments, honing into that sound of his heart beating, now nearly in perfect time with her own.

“Not here,” Daisy settles on. “Can you– can you stand? And do stairs?” She doesn’t think she’s taken enough to leave him physically weak, and he nods, loosening his grip so she can climb off him and he can rise to his feet. She doesn’t miss the wobble of his legs and were it not for… everything else she would’ve laughed at how quick he is to turn off the stove and take her hand. Ron lets her lead him up her stairs, towards her room.

The whole time, she wants nothing more than to sink her teeth into him again, or for him to crush her with the weight of his lips. Preferably both.

“The bed. Lay down. More comfortable that way.” She realizes that her own voice is edging on desperate when she opens the door with her foot and lets him go. Which he does, goes so far as to kick off his shoes, backing up and holding her stare from his spot propped on his elbows.

Maybe she’s too quick to follow after him, crawling on top of him and letting her fingers graze the curve of his cheek, the line of his jaw.

She leans down, drags her tongue across the spot where she’d bitten him until it’s clean as his hands find purchase on the tops of her thighs beneath her skirt.

“Didn’t want it to go to waste, sweetness?” That nickname, it makes her shudder and in response she drags a tooth along his skin, leaving a pink line of a scratch in its wake.

“You’re not funny.” She huffs.

“Wasn’t trying to be,” Ron grunts, “How’re we doing this?” Daisy lifts her head to look at him again.

Desire on others is cloudy, barely coherent, parted lips and mumbled incomprehensible words. Desire on Ron is precise, aware, a sharp-eyed look like he knows exactly what he wants, exactly how he plans to get it. She doesn’t have to say it aloud for him to already know he can have her.

“You’ll feed me,” Daisy breathes out, before searing a kiss of her own to his lips. She swears it's the only thing more intoxicating than the taste of him. “And then I’ll feed you.”

They’re damned. Her for being so terribly greedy and him for desiring her in the way he does. They both know it. But even beneath her now Ron looks nothing like the blushing, scandalized virgin of folktales and films. His eyes are dark and stormy, his fingers are digging into her thighs and he’s staring at her like he’s challenging her to go through with this. Like it’s her final chance to back out of this entirely.

“Bottom’s up, then, sweetness,” Ron teases, but his tone lacks any sort of lilt.

Daisy lowers herself to his neck to drink her fill, as that low groan of his lights a fire in her belly that had laid dormant for far too long.

[kingedmundsroyalmurder]

Retro-Janeing: chapters 12 and 13

Enter Irene, my least favorite character of this whole story. I do actually think I dislike Irene even more than grandmother, and for the same reason Jane does: with Grandmother, you know where you stand. She doesn't like you and she'll make that obvious. Irene pretends to not be as poisonous as she actually is, and it's never quite established if it's deliberate artifice or if she genuinely doesn't see herself as poisonous and manipulative.

From the start, we get evocative and unpleasant verbs for Irene. She pounces on Jane. Her laughter is a gurgle. Later on she'll purr over Andrew, a verb which somehow gives me the creeps when applied to a human woman and not a cat. This is LMM in her element, using every aspect of her craft to bring us an image of a dreadful person.

Also I think if someone had tried to call me "lovey" at 11 I would have hated them instantly.

Anyway, Irene is subtly but firmly trying to make Jane feel unwanted right from the get go. This girl is 11 and you don't know her. There is literally no good reason to tell her "I told your dad not to send for you." Again, I can't quite tell if Irene is treating Jane like a grownup and expecting her to have the emotional maturity to handle this kind of thing or if she's trying to make Jane feel bad on purpose. (Also, what does she want to happen here? Does she want Jane to feel like she's a burden and ask to go home early?)

Side observation: what the hell was the Stuarts' home life like as children? "I've always been more like a mother to him" is a weird thing to say about your brother when your shared mom was alive and well at least into both of your adulthoods. Was their mother like this as well? Did she and Irene get along? This whole thing is just weird to me. Irene also has a different last name -- is she widowed? Or do she and Andrew actually have different fathers and that’s why there's such an age gap?

"One really couldn't expect a lovely little doll like her to be a cook...or a manager either for that matter and I told your father that often enough." I'm going to immediately retract something I said last chapter. Yes, Robin had her ideas about love influenced by her mother, but Robin thinks that Andrew's ideas of love are influenced by Irene. Robin thinks Irene has fully poisoned Andrew against her and that any connection between her and Jane will reflect badly on Jane. I hate Irene so much.

"I hope you'll have a good sleep, lovey. You don't know what it means to me to have you sleeping under my roof...Andrew's little girl...my only niece. And I was always so fond of your mother...but...well, I don't quite think she ever really liked me. I always felt she didn't, but I never let it make any difference between us. She didn't like to see me and your father talking much together...I always realized that. She was so much younger than your father...a mere child...it was natural for him to turn to me for advice as he'd always been used to do. He always talked things over with me first. She was a little jealous, I think...she could hardly help that, being Mrs Robert Kennedy's daughter. Never let yourself be jealous, Janie. It wrecks more lives than anything else. Here's a puff, lovey, if you're chilly in the night. A wet night in P. E. Island is apt to be cool. Good night, lovey." Again, this is not something you say to an 11 year old girl you don't know. Irene has known Jane for, what, an hour at absolute most? And look, we aren't told outright, but Jane clearly looks unwell, yeah? She's exhausted, miserable, and hasn't eaten in weeks. LMM is very big on characters' emotional states impacting their appearance, so we can infer that right now Jane probably looks awful. This is really not the time to be dumping painful family history on her, much less this kind of thing. I take back every mean thing I've ever thought about Andrew -- he is stunningly well adjusted for having Irene as a parental figure and behavioral model.

In the morning Jane continues to refuse food, and realistically at this point she should be feeling dizzy and nauseous from lack of food. Even a "Jane felt ill at the very thought of eating now," would convey the actual physical consequences of going without food for so long. And, although she of course expresses it in the worst way possible, I for once agree with Irene that Jane does need to actually eat something. Of course, Irene does it by scolding and condescending and entirely failing to read Jane's mood. I think there's actually a subtle theme going through all of Irene's appearances that she thinks she's good at reading people and seeing what they feel but actually she's dreadful at it.

But at last Andrew arrives and we are given a reprieve from Irene. And finally Jane gets a compliment that's not immediately followed by a backhanded insinuation!

He also is the first person to grant Jane any actual agency. He may have ignored it when writing the initial letter, but when actually speaking to her he takes the time to ask her what she would like to be called and how she is feeling.

(Sidenote that I just thought of: is "Jane Victoria" what they called her when she was young? I'd assumed Robin did it as a favor to her mother, but Irene also called her that and I don't feel like Irene would acknowledge grandmother at all unless she had to. Unless Irene is playing 5-D chess to try and tie Jane to her grandmother as strongly as possible? Again, I can't actually figure out what Irene wants here.)

Also I am starting to build an image of what LMM's ideal romantic lead is at this point in her life and "drives an old, unreliable car" is definitely a criterion. Is our Maud secretly into grease stains and the smell of petrol? Get this woman a guy in coveralls with a rag hanging out his back pocket stat.

[sueske]

There is a tweet on Twitter asking what would Luffy has done about Sasuke if he were in Naruto's shoes. What are your thoughts?

hard to say. i think at first luffy would honour the fact that sasuke has a goal he has to complete no matter what, a match only sasuke can do, one he wants to do by himself. the same way luffy honoured zoro's wish of fighting mihawk at baratie even though he was obviously outclassed. luffy wanted to join but desperately restrained himself back because it was zoro's duel. it's only after it looked like zoro 'died', after the duel finished, that luffy went to attack mihawk. if sasuke eventually wanted to leave the village in order to fulfil his ambition then I also think luffy would honour that, like when usopp left the crew, even though luffy didn't want him to leave it was still usopp's decision, he wanted to leave. this differs to when sanji or robin left the crew and luffy steadfastly chased after them to save them and bring them back, because sanji and robin didn't leave the crew because they actually wanted to, but because they felt they had to in order to protect everyone. obviously it's a bit muddled since the curse mark also had some influence, but ultimately it was sasuke's decision to leave after listening to different people and thinking through everything. so again, I think luffy would honour sasuke's personal wishes in that regard. but another layer of complexity is then added because sasuke's safety at the hands of orochimaru comes into play here, and that's where I think luffy would step in. I think the situation with ace is an apt comparison here because while luffy recognised ace had his own adventures, and didn't meddle when he heard ace was in dangerous situations, when it come to a matter of ace dying that's when luffy went above and beyond to save him at marineford, even when ace protested about not wanting him there and telling him that he should leave. so while luffy would accept sasuke has his own goal and path separate from luffy, I think that due to sasuke being in imminent danger of dying by the hands of orochimaru, that would spur luffy to go and save him too even though sasuke wouldn't want that. but once luffy hears that sasuke killed orochimaru I think he'd take a step back and leave sasuke alone to complete his goal by himself. I don't think luffy would butt in just like he didn't butt in with zoro's duel, he also only really helped if people asked him for help, like nami for example at arlong park, but sasuke wouldn't ask for help against itachi at all.

after finding out the truth about konoha though... we all know luffy doesn't care about authority at all and is more than willing to punch royalty and dismantle governments and leave the fall out and mess of that to someone else. he doesn't mind fighting marines and other pirates, but completely destroying konoha (and civilians within) I don't know if luffy would actually agree to that. in his view if someone puts their life on the line they have to face the consequences of that, but civilians are not people that do that. he most probably would agree with sasuke's plan of taking out the kage at least, but sasuke's idea of becoming a new 'hokage' that oversees everything and dispenses judgement wouldn't go down well with luffy I think, since above all luffy wants to be 'free'. luffy would also not let sasuke kill him to be alone and in pain for all eternity as the one person who dispenses judgement either since emotionally luffy wouldn't want that for sasuke either.

idk I can make comparisons about situations luffy's been in before and apply it to sasuke but the way luffy views those close around him and what he would do for them is pretty much the same, he calls them the same too (like nakama/kyoudai), he doesn't single anyone out or treat anyone differently, luffy just wants to be free and lives that way, whereas with naruto it's different, sasuke is his 'one and only', it's sasuke > everyone and everything else even his own dream and responsibilities, so if luffy had a 'one and only' how would he really act? the same as he does for others or would sasuke become the exception to his rule too?

[veneriovescovi]

@senatusstarters location: Hakan's Christmas Rave notes: local fake nerd pretends he doesn't fit in at parties, "have you ever seen me without this hat? That's weird." My standard 4 muse restriction applies kiss kiss

A party like this wasn't Venerio's scene, on nights like this people were most likely to find him in the library bent over ancient lines from the Poetic Edda, or an authentic copy of one of Dante's works. He was Edgar Allan Poe reincarnate- this rave was filled with hedonists that were making a mockery of this ancient castle. Hakan was generous enough to open his doors to the city, and to fill the halls with every debaucherous event that you could think of... So naturally, Venerio had to indulge. It would have been bad form to show up to a party and not enjoy himself - this was all to honour the sacrifice of the Six, a pluto vampire among them.

Venerio stumbled from the orgy, staggered was more the apt word - what time was it? Late. The party was still raging and the vampire's senses were momentarily haywire. What blood had he drank? His tongue moved across his lips first - elven? Eladrin? The lights of the hall danced to their own twilight routine and he knew that it was one of the two. Maybe the former because it felt potent. The back of Venerio's hand moved across his lips next as he looked for a balcony, fresh air, something. He'd been here countless times and still got lost, that was the nature of Hakan's castle though. Venerio needed- he didn't know what he needed, "Do you have a light?" That was it.

[nickambrose]

Location: Club Rapture @emreakbar

All in all things were finally starting to look up. Postponing engagements, which included cancelling various nights at Rapture, had dulled time into a slow dreary existence. That lifeless trickle of euphoria was back to it’s heady abundance. The first true club night, because it wasn’t a real one if Nick wasn’t in attendance, in weeks. The balance of life was back and they might finally stand a chance of getting through the back catalogue of plundered booze. Perfect opportunity to open up the bar a few extra nights a week. Possibly, scour out some new fresh talent to break up the blaring euro trash.

Occasionally, when Nick felt it was apt he’d even man the bar. Usually to tease out secrets or gossip in exchange for over-the-top cocktails. Fuck if he knew how they were supposed to be made. This was the never-ending party at the end of the world. Nick had drifted over towards the bar with some vague notions of spinning up some charm, but importantly to pour himself drinks under the counter. Somehow, someone, had slipped right past security. “We don’t serve your ilk in here.” Nick drifted past and around the bar, to face Emre square on. “Boring, dull and mood-hoovers need not apply. Presumably, you know where the door is.”

[libra-stellium]

TW: suicide, family trauma

Personal Astro Observation: my mom’s aqua moon in my 12H and feeling emotionally hostage

If you’re a pisces rising with an aqua moon mother let me know if you relate!

Earlier I was trying to make sense of what exactly I was feeling and I kept getting this visual of me walking and a jail cell falling on top of me out of nowhere with a button that says “the only way to get out is to press this button but if you press the button another jail cell will fall on you later on” and the feeling was TRAPPED

As I’m telling my bestie this I’m saying how I feel like a hostage whenever my mom is putting so much pressure on me to do as she says while she’s so emotional and I found out the term “emotionally hostage” already exists!

This is how I feel with my mother! She creates these intense emotional situations and the solution she comes up with requires so much of me emotionally and almost always involve a request to ignore my set boundaries.

Today the boundary in question is me not wanting to have her stay over at my apartment at all. I’ve been upholding this since November last year and she keeps trying me!

This time the situation she created is that she needs to get a US drivers license and she needs it to apply to this job and to apply to apartments, she also needs to take driving classes down the street from me, and she would stay in a hotel but it’s too expensive, so she needs to stay with me to take these classes. Basically now it’s on me taking down my apt boundary so that she can get the drivers license bc “it’s the only way!!” 🙄

Mind you right now she’s staying within a metro ride of my city so she does not need to sleep over here and the driving classes aren’t a requirement of the state 🙃 since she already knows how to drive!

When I got that text earlier I literally felt angry and then numb and I could barely move bc I felt trapped!! I say no, it’s an issue bc of how she’ll react. I say yes, it’s my own mental health at stake. I tell her to go stay with her sister instead, and it’s an issue bc she recently decided to stop speaking to her sister who lives in my city!

In the Astro rulership book hostage and trap and ruled by saturn and that’s what rules my aqua 12H. That is how I feel when my mom is acting based on emotions. When my mom made emotional decisions about my life when I was younger I also ended up trapped!

I also noticed that when the moon is in Capricorn - Pisces I need to stay away from her and communicate as little as possible bc it’s such a volatile time every month! Cap to pisces is my 11H 12H and 1H and for my mom it’s her 4H 5H and 6H.

Yesterday everything was fine and today the moon goes into Capricorn and she sends me that text when she knows the answer is no.

I stayed strong and upheld my boundary and she started literally sobbing on the phone like I condemned her to hell. I know now this isn’t a normal reaction at all especially from a parent but I’m literally so used to not reacting when she has a blowout like that that I was numb to her sobbing. I was alone in my apt like 👀👀

My reaction is a future problem 😂 ignoring it today! But proud of me for staying strong and saying no to my mother repeatedly for the last 8 months 🎉

[bloodofthefates]

x. continued from here with @chaoslulled

It was rare for Zoya to be so forthcoming with her true feelings; if she took the time to decipher and understand them at all instead of channeling them into her usual guarded rage. Nikolai had become the counterbalance to her old habits, challenging her in ways she often found frustrating and irritating but were the best thing for her. She had grown, they both had, within the safe confines of their more intimate partnership that not only served their nation but served themselves as well. They presented a united front always, a promise made at the start of it all when she’d agreed to step into the role as Queen of but what occurred later and behind closed doors was only privy to a select few if they disagreed. And they did. Arguments weren’t unheard of between the pair of them, both alike in stubbornness and never lacking in passion while each tended to look for a fight in their own way. Zoya was an instigator, a thorny spine applying just the slightest bit of pressure to irritate and push boundaries but it seemed Nikolai was the only one ever willing to go toe to toe with her in any fight. He matched her in every way, but tonight there was no argument awaiting him in the quiet stillness of the sitting room. She might’ve preferred them parting on worse terms and maybe she could miss him less. The quiet felt like an apt reflection of her melancholy, but seeing Nikolai at the window staring out unseeing and at a loss for words didn’t exactly bring any reprieve or comfort she’d hoped for. Sipping deeply from her glass, reveling in the familiar burning sensation of her preferred kvas, Zoya’s icy stare tracked his movements as he came to join her in the chair seated next to her. She sat perched haphazardly with one leg tucked beneath her, the perfect picture of casual ease and her attempt at humor to lighten the gravity of the inevitable separation stretching out before them was eclipsed by the sudden sinking and overwhelming feeling building in the pit of her stomach that had nothing at all to do with the effects of the alcohol. “Of course I’m going to miss you…” She echoes his teasing, her voice soft with truthfulness reserved for his ears only. His parting was a necessity, a paramount matter of state that they agreed would always come first and yet Zoya couldn’t quell the nagging feeling that some part of her was leaving with him and being torn from her by the demon's own talons. The glass lingers at her lips, her tongue idly licking at the rim as she watches him, the exasperation he radiates while rubbing his temples and somehow her guarded and caged heart breaks a little more. He’s quick to snatch her glass from her, earning him a reproachful glare though she does nothing about it as he takes a sip and Zoya edges closer to him over the arm of her chair only to find herself still far too restrained by the distance for her liking. Languid in her movement to slide out of the chair, her intent clear as her hand grazes the arm of his chair and draws herself to stand in front of him with her thighs purposefully nudging him against his bent knees. “You can’t cancel.” She reminds him, really reminding them both so that she would never ask him to do such a thing. Not for the sake of Ravka nor restricting his freedom on the seas, the one thing she knows he may always crave as much as any desire to be near her. “But I’ll save all the soul torturing for your return.” She promises, smirking as she places both hands on either side of him against both armrests and leans in to press her forehead against his. “And you better return.” Zoya nudges against him with a growl, closing her eyes for a brief moment before swiping the glass back from his hand and straightening upright to down another sip. “Is it pathetic if I tell you I still don’t want you to go even though we both know better?”

[anettrolikova]

people in the blockchain world talk about “ossified protocols” a lot, but why is that an apt metaphor? What about protocols is, or can become, bone-like? I think it has to do with how protocols exist in time.

we can’t predict most things about the future, but some things we can predict with an eerie amount of confident precision. For example, I am pretty confident that this time 5 years from now, whether or not the US exists as a country, and whether or not zombies or aliens have taken over, we’ll still be driving on the right-hand side of the road on this continent and using 110V electricity. That’s because road rules constitute a pretty ossified protocol and are part of the bones of time. The electric grid is built around a set of standards and protocols and is also part of the bones of time. These social realities seem to have a preternatural stability across the fan of possible futures, and a kind of inflexible hardness we normally associate with the natural laws of physics.

One of the reasons the pandemic felt like such a dramatic disruption of life was that several foundational protocols of life, like shaking hands and smiling, got broken.

Protocols create artificial “vertebrate” time out of natural “invertebrate” time.

The same lens can be applied to the past. We structure our understanding of the past in terms of bone-like procedural social realities that don’t change easily, and induce a certain hard-edged quality in event streams. We have histories of the United States, China, the Catholic Church, and railroad technologies in large part because those entities enjoy an ontological stability that emerges out of the protocols defining their ossified social realities.

Protocols are a bit like laws of nature in this regard: defined by stable symmetries and conservation principles that limit the space of possible futures and pasts.

That they are the product of social contrivance and technological artifice doesn’t really matter. What matters is that they endure for long periods while changing slowly or not at all. They may be made-up and arbitrary, but they create persistent laws of social reality.

[thursdaygarbageday]

## A Day of Remembrance: Calmness and TranquilityThere comes a time in everyone’s life when the hustle and bustle of everyday responsibilities seems to fade away, leaving behind a serene moment of reflection. For me, this day happened to arrive right after a doctor's appointment and a visit to Proud Haven, where I applied for a volunteer position. Little did I know, the combination of these two experiences would fill my heart with gratitude and contentment.

### The Doctor's Appointment

My day began early, the sun just beginning to rise, casting a soft glow across the sky. As I sat in the waiting room, I felt the usual twinge of anxiety that accompanies medical visits. You know what they say: “A doctor can’t cure what ails you if you don’t show up.” I chuckled quietly at the absurdity of it all while flipping through outdated magazines—who even reads those anymore?

When my turn came, I found comfort in the doctor’s cheerful demeanor. After a thorough check-up, he gave me some reassuring news: "You’re as healthy as a horse!" he proclaimed. There’s a reason for that saying, I mused. Horses are powerful yet graceful, which felt like an apt metaphor for my own journey towards wellness.

### The Calm After the Storm

As I left the clinic, the tranquility of the day enveloped me. The sun was shining bright, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves on the trees. It reminded me of one of my favorite quotes: “After every storm comes a rainbows’ end.” This day felt like that rainbow, a sign of hope and new beginnings.

I decided to take a stroll, allowing myself to bask in the warm sunlight. With each step, I felt lighter, shedding burdens and worries like autumn leaves. In moments like these, I often reflect on the simple joys in life. "Why do they call it rush hour when nothing moves?" I laughed to myself as I watched cars inch forward. It was a reminder to slow down; life doesn’t always need to be a race.

### A Visit to Proud Haven

Later in the afternoon, I made my way to Proud Haven, an organization dedicated to helping those in need. My heart swelled with purpose as I walked through the doors. I was greeted by friendly faces and an air of positivity that filled the room. After filling out my volunteer application, I chatted with some staff members who spoke passionately about their work. One smiled and said, “You know, volunteering is the only activity where you can get paid in gratitude!” It resonated deeply with me.

The warmth of the place, coupled with the meaningful conversation, turned my day of remembrance into a tapestry of human connection. As I left, I couldn’t help but feel the sense of community wrapping around me like a cozy blanket. “Life is better when you’re laughing,” I thought, and volunteering seemed like the perfect opportunity to spread joy.

### Embracing Tranquility

By the time I returned home, I was enveloped in a profound sense of calmness and tranquility. I reflected on my day—the doctor's appointment had brought relief, and my visit to Proud Haven had filled me with purpose. It was a beautiful reminder that amidst the challenges we face, there’s space for peace and laughter.

As I settled into my evening routine, I realized how important it is to celebrate these moments of clarity and to remember that life is often about the little things: the jokes shared, the smiles exchanged, and the connections made. After all, as the saying goes, “In the end, it’s not the years in your life that count. It’s the life in your years.”

And so, this day of remembrance will forever hold a special place in my heart—a day painted with the colors of calmness and tranquility, sprinkled with laughter and a renewed sense of purpose. Here’s to more days like this, where we find peace in our journeys and joy in our connections!

[avania1105]

“Navigating the OT Maze: My UKZN Journey from Hospital Halls to Community Corners”

As a 4th-year occupational therapy student from UKZN doing my last block, at a community/PHC level, was I prepared enough?  

As I reflect back on my undergraduate years, I feel disheartened. There were many lost opportunities due to the COVID-19 lockdown, from not being able to do dissections due to limited cadavers to limited fieldwork exposure in my first year as an OT student. While current- first-year OT students are given the opportunity to accompany and shadow the 4th year OT students on their community block, this was not an opportunity that I had when I was in 1st year due to lockdown. In 1st year we also did a community studies module and prior to lockdown, the students were taken on field trips into various communities in an attempt to expose health science students to the communities however we were unable to go on these trips due to the lockdown. When lockdown restrictions were eased during my second year, the OT department did not adjust our curriculum to make up for lost experiences and instead when I look back it felt like these crucial learning opportunities were just swept aside, and the gap in our community exposure remained glaring.

For most of my blocks from 2nd year, I was placed in hospitals in which the hospital setting is very different to a PHC clinic setting as you have limited time to assess and treat patients and limited access to resources. The PHC setting requires much more “thinking on the spot” and it is solely based on the “ here and now” which is not emphasized enough in the OT curriculum. We are taught to plan sessions in advance, do an activity analysis of the activity and a session write-up which guides the implementation of our treatment sessions and while this is useful in a hospital setting, it makes it difficult to come up with treatment ideas now suddenly on the spot because we are so used to having a write up that guides our intervention implementation due to the way we were taught. So, while this method is useful in a hospital setting, it is unrealistic at a PHC level. However, I believe that is a skill that I will master with practice, as the saying goes, "practice makes perfect."

In a hospital setting, we also have access to more resources compared to at a PHC level. Thus, at a PHC level, we have to be creative on how to make low-cost assistive devices and other necessary items. In our 1st year, we learnt APT which is a very important skill to know as we can use recyclable materials to make relevant items for therapy, especially in resource-constrained primary health care facilities.  

Despite efforts made to expose us to community practice at a 3rd-year level, it was insufficient because, for my community block in 3rd year, I went to a halfway house rather than being at an actual community and getting actual practical exposure to what community OT is all about. The OT curriculum does not allow for adequate exposure to community practice, which is important because all the patients we see in the hospitals are returning to a community. This limited exposure to community practice also affects our intervention because is it really context-relevant if we do not know and understand the context they are coming from due to our limited exposure to communities?

Suddenly, in your fourth year, you are thrown deep into the community and somehow expected to adjust. Well, lucky for me, I am quite a flexible person and my colleagues on the same block as me who are more familiar with the communities also assist me in understanding the community.

Pros of the UKZN OT curriculum include:

Integration of theory and practicals – After learning the theory in classes through lectures, we get to apply what was learnt by doing case studies, simulated cases and in our fieldwork blocks. This helps us to consolidate the theory learnt by putting it into practice.

Holistic approach – The OT curriculum adopts a holistic approach which teaches students to not only look at and treat the physical needs but also the emotional and social needs that may affect a person’s health and well-being including environmental factors which also aligns with the principles of PHC.

Multidisciplinary approach – The OT curriculum emphasizes the importance of working as part of a multidisciplinary team which is very important especially at a PHC level to maximize the treatment offered to patients within a limited time frame and it ensures person-centred care. The MDT approach is emphasized a lot in PHC and currently, at Cato Manor, I do a lot of joint sessions, with the speech therapist.

Cultural competence – The OT curriculum includes cultural competence and cultural sensitivity within various modules which are important and necessary skills for us to develop as health practitioners working with people from various cultural backgrounds, especially in the community setting. 

Cons of the UKZN OT curriculum include:

Limited exposure to community-based occupational therapy.

Limited focus on resource constraints – Many of us have done blocks at hospitals which had access to resources and materials however at a PHC level, there are significant resource constraints due to limited funds therefore it is essential that students are taught how to adapt and be innovative within these constraints as part of the OT curriculum. According to (Naidoo et al., 2017) many community service OTs also faced challenges due to resource constraints at a PHC level as they completed their undergraduate training at well-resourced hospitals.

Insufficient emphasis on policies and advocacy – The OT curriculum needs to place more emphasis on procedures relating to government departments, new health care policies and procedures for referral within the Department of Health which are practical skills that occupational therapy students and therapists should be aware of especially when working at a PHC level.

Limited knowledge of how to implement health preventive and promotive programmes at a PHC level as the main focus is on remedial and rehabilitative programmes within a hospital setting.

So, was I prepared enough for practice at a community/PHC level? The honest answer is no—I did not feel fully prepared, largely due to limited exposure to community-based OT and perhaps I may never have felt prepared enough however if I had more exposure to community practice, I would have had an idea of what to expect rather than going into the community blindfolded. Overall, the OT curriculum tries to offer a holistic curriculum offering a solid theoretical foundation however students need to be offered more practical experience and exposure, especially in communities to improve preparedness for practice at a community/PHC level.

[nickibun]

ed log:

salmon teriyaki w/ rice | ??? cal

shrimp + potatoes | ??? cal

usage + mood:

totally f*kd up today. hardly ate the past few days though. feeling completely torn.

saw my ex tonight to have him help me with

an assignment i’ve had due and got an extension on since i was so busy with fashion week.

ofc he knows about my ed and cooked dinner,

i bought him lunch, we shared a bottle of wine.

i feel so guilty. tomorrow i will do better.

as for my usage, i spent a few days helping my friends (messed up couple) with their issues, obviously drank a ton of vodka, smoked some t with them. took a couple valium to get to sleep. did some mdma on valentine’s day.

daily log:

nyfw this year was really amazing.

i worked two shows (one of which i walked in for the first time), attended four other shows from a multitude of designers.

some of my friends came to my show which was honestly amazing. saw a lot of old colleagues/friends at a show for a company i used to intern for, which felt really special since i hadn’t seen many of them since i first moved to nyc. i shot for a really great alternative brand on monday with another model and crazy talented photographer.

i’m really proud of myself for getting through this month so far, considering all the variables i’ve been dealing with (relapsing on h, the girl i was seeing for a few months breaking things off w me, fights w my ex, my mom being in town and staying with me).

looking back at everything i’ve been doing this month really puts things into perspective; this is why i’m here. this is what i came to do. i moved to new york to pursue my degree in fashion marketing, and im applying what ive learned along with my own creativity and vision into real life.

when i was at my lowest point, waking up in hell everyday 16-19, only caring about h and my shitty ex bf… i look back and think how if that girl knew where she would be at 21 she wouldn’t believe it.

i didn’t think about waking up the next day, looking into the future (even six months wasn’t in my plan) wasn’t in my cards.

i need to realize i’ve come so far. such a long way.

it’s nice to be reminded of where i came from to where i am now, and how much progress i’ve made since getting out of rehab in october of 2022.

i won’t let a slip up define me.

at the same time, i’m utterly terrified to think about where i’ll be next year, or five years down the line.

i never thought i’d make it this far, and the road is long ahead of me.

one day at a time one day at a time one day at a

i try to remember. i’ve changed things. i am ok.

i am better. i’ll do my best everyday. some days are harder than others, but i have grown so much, that is something to be proud of.

i saw my ex for valentine’s day, which i am a bit ashamed to say. now im sleeping at his house. im sitting here justifying this to myself, even after the horrible things he’s said and done to me in the past nine months.

on valentine’s day, he asked me out to dinner. i said yes, then regretted it within the first hour of the date. i drank to the point where i can’t remember going home with him that night.

i called my friends to essentially rescue me. they had made up a perfect excuse to get me to leave. which ended up in me partying with them for the next two days. lol

i need new friends.

middle of our party (it’s a couple), AC had gotten his gf arrested. so fucked. spent the next day locating which jail she was in, figuring out her arraignment time, etc etc. but, since they had shown up for me so many times i knew i had to stick it out. i’m glad i did. i think AC would’ve lost his shit if he was in the apt alone knowing what he’d done.

i go to miami tomorrow for a much needed vacation for a few days. excited to be in my hometown and see my parents.

anyways, here’s some raw photos from the shoot:

[playermagic23]

20 Years of Maqbool: Kamal Haasan was the original choice for Irrfan Khan’s role; Vishal Bhardwaj had to forgo his Rs. 30 lakhs fees so that he could shoot in Bhopal

Maqbool (2004) recently completed 20 years, on January 30. The film made director Vishal Bhardwaj a popular name and it also boosted the career of its lead actor Irrfan Khan. It was an adaptation of Shakespeare’s Macbeth and also starred Tabu, Pankaj Kapur, Om Puri and Naseeruddin Shah. In a recent interview with Mayank Shekhar of Mid-Day, Vishal Bhardwaj opened up about the struggles he faced in making the thriller as per his vision.

The maverick filmmaker began by revealing that Kamal Haasan was the original choice for the title role. In an interview with Mumbai Mirror in August 2014, Tabu stated that Kay Kay Menon was also considered briefly before Irrfan Khan was locked.

In the Mid-Day interview, Vishal Bhardwaj then said that he knocked on several doors to get the funds. With no luck, he applied for a scheme that was launched then by IDBI Bank to finance films. Producers Manmohan Shetty and Bobby Bedi were on its script consultation committee. As luck would have it, the film failed to be lucky even here.

Vishal Bhardwaj, at this point, exulted that Manmohan Shetty, over drinks, told him, “You have actors like Naseer, Om Puri, Pankaj Kapur… How would you ever have recovered a Rs 2.86 crores loan? I did you a favour, by rejecting it.”

Fortunately, Bobby Bedi was impressed with the script and he decided to finance the project. The initial plan was to shoot 25 days in Mumbai followed by 25 days in Bhopal. But once the Mumbai leg was over, Bobby confessed that there was no money for the Madhya Pradesh capital schedule. He suggested Vishal to shoot scenes of Abba ji’s (Pankaj Kapur) of haveli in a mansion at the Films’ Division office in South Mumbai. But Vishal had already finalized a haveli in Bhopal and he felt that it was the apt location. The ‘Films’ Division haveli’ wouldn’t have done justice.

Hence, Vishal Bhardwaj declined Bobby Bedi’s offer. Vishal narrated, “He (Bobby Bedi) said he won’t make the film then. I said, 'Let’s not make the movie'!”

This happened on a Friday evening. After this discussion, Vishal Bhardwaj said that he went home, “made himself a few stiff drinks” and switched off the phone over the weekend. On Monday, Bobby Bedi knocked on his door, asking where he had disappeared.

Vishal Bhardwaj said, “I told him, ‘What’s the point of meeting?’ My fees for the film, including music composition, direction and script was Rs 30 lakhs. Bobby suggested that the Bhopal shoot would cost Rs 60 lakhs. And that he was willing to put in Rs. 30 lakhs, and I could put in my Rs 30 lakhs.”

Vishal continued, “I just said—if you had told me earlier, I wouldn’t have drunk so much on Friday! Even to this day, while I was the producer, I didn’t make a single penny from Maqbool. But how does it matter? Look at all that I earned!”