#it’s a lot more complicated than that but suffice to say the only way i can show ‘filipino living in singapore’ is with two aspects

[dailyhatsune]

the old uncle who refuses to wear headphones on the train

[reidmotif]

Relax, I've Got You

Summary: Reader isn't the best at handling stress, and her roommate Spencer, notices. Luckily, he has quite a few salacious ideas on how he could make her feel better.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: friends-with-benefits situation, oral (f!recieving), fingering (f!recieving), mentions of anxiety/symptoms of anxiety.

Word Count: 2.7 k

Masterlist

You were never good at handling stress. 

You were well aware of this facet of your psyche– the way tensity would often wind around your limbs, snaking into the very depths of your bones until you were entirely drained and devoid of peace, a shell of the person you were accustomed to being. 

You had dealt with this complication on your own for the most part. You’d come home after a long day, and attempt to find yourself again through chamomile tea, lavender mists, and a warm blanket. 

Of course, there were days where even these measures could not suffice in curing your weariness. 

That’s where Spencer Reid came in. 

He’d only been your roommate at first. With the economy going as it was, it was simply more practical to find one, rather than renting alone. He’d responded to an ad you’d put up, and you accepted. The process was easy, honestly. You had no qualms about sharing your living space with another person, and even found the arrangement enjoyable at times. Spencer was well-mannered, never missed rent, and wasn’t even at home most of the time. When he was, he was quiet. Sweet. 

Through time, you found yourself becoming friends with the man. The conversation was light and easy, and in a rare turn of events, you started to open up to him. Even more surprisingly, he returned the favor, adding to the understanding that was fast growing between the two of you. It seemed only natural, since both of you were made naturally vulnerable by the circumstances of your situation. You’d come to your apartment, drop the mask of the day, and see that Spencer was already there, becoming an extension of the solace you found at home. Soon enough, the comfort of your couch was simply synonymous to him as well. 

It didn’t take long for Spencer to notice the anxieties that would plague you when a deadline came about, or when you simply fixated on an issue for too long. The way your bedroom light wouldn’t shut until 4 AM, or how you’d pace in the kitchen, so wired that your body denied you the rest you so desperately needed. He noticed the dark circles, the occasional irritability (followed by an apology, of course), the headaches, everything. Which is why he thought nothing of it to suggest some remedies for your troubles over breakfast one day. 

“Caffeine can actually increase stress, if you weren’t aware.” He says, eyeing your second cup of coffee that morning. “There’s actually a large amount of data that indicates you should limit caffeine intake, especially if you’re already anxious.” 

You narrow your eyes, furrowing your brows slightly. “Says who?” You retort, not quite ready to give up your chosen beverage. 

“The NIH, Penn State, the AMA-” 

“Okay, okay. Sorry. I got it.” You interrupt, knowing you’d started a losing battle the moment you’d questioned him.  “I’ll try to cut down on it.” 

He grins, satisfied with how the interaction had played out. You, on the other hand, started to drift farther away from your current setting. You swallow, putting down your coffee cup before rubbing your eyes, a soft sigh escaping you. 

“Something wrong?” Spencer asks, cautiously, his voice soft. 

You tsk, shaking your head and shrugging a bit at your own dilemma. “It's just.. I’m already so tired. I’m exhausted and the day’s barely begun.” You pause, unable to articulate just how fatigued you were.  “It’s like I can already feel the mid-afternoon headache I’m going to get later, and it hasn’t even started yet.” You hate the way you sound, longing for the day you could fully relax for even a fraction of a second. 

“You’d probably be a lot less tired if you slept a little more.” Spencer suggests, and you shoot him a death glare. 

“Don’t you think I know that?” You snap. “I’m trying. It’s not that easy. It’s just-” You groan, stopping yourself as the quick realization dawns on you that you’ve misdirected your frustrations. There’s a wave of shame rising up almost immediately, heating your cheeks up in regret. 

“I’m sorry, Spencer. Sorry. That’s unfair of me. I know you’re just looking out for me.” You murmur, taking a deep breath to calm your senses. 

“Hey, don’t worry.” He says, his voice low and compassionate. “I get it. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate right now.” 

You nod, closing your eyes as you continue to breathe. He continues to speak, his voice remaining warmhearted. 

“There are actually quite a few ways to alleviate stress. Some experts recommend meditation, exercise and yoga. I wouldn’t mind doing those with you, if you were interested.” He offers, as he continues to ramble, lost in his own explanation in the hopes of being of service to you. “Some experts even name sex as a useful stress reliever, due to the endorphins and oxytocin released after completion.” 

You give a fruitless laugh. “Jesus, I wish. I don’t have the time to try and find someone willing to do that for me.” 

Spencer goes quiet, and you finally open your eyes. You’re met with his stare, trained on your form, a thoughtful expression on his face. 

“What?” You ask, upon returning his gaze. 

He clears his throat, shaking his head, as if he was ridding himself of a passing thought. “Nothing. Sorry. I’m sorry. I hope you do find something that works for you though. I hate seeing you like this.” 

You soften at his concern. “Thanks, Spencer.” You say, the affection in your voice unmistakable. “Maybe I’ll end up taking on.. Yoga? That seems doable, right?” 

He smiles. “Yoga. Right.” 

The days pass on, until you find yourself in a similar scenario you’ve been in one too many times. You’re pacing the kitchen, a small clock reading that it was currently 2 AM. You couldn’t even really decipher the source of tonight’s anxiety– all you know is you feel it, and you feel it deeply. 

That’s when a voice breaks through the darkness, halting your movements altogether. 

“Hey, are you alright?” Spencer’s soft, slightly deeper voice. 

“Oh, yeah.” You call out, despite the growing tightness in your chest. “I’m fine. You can go back to sleep. Sorry for waking you.” 

He shakes his head, scratching his head as he makes his way towards you. “It’s nothing.” He reassures. “I needed to pee anyway. What’s going on with you?” He inquires, gently. 

You rub at your chest, biting your lip. “The usual.” 

“Work?” He asks, softly. 

You purse your lips. “I’m not even sure at this point. Just really anxious.” 

His expression softens. A beat of silence passes between the two of you. 

“I’m- um. I’m willing to help.” He stammers out, suddenly seeming much more nervous than he was a moment ago. 

You give a dejected smile. “That’s sweet, Spencer, but I dunno. I think I have to deal with this on my own.” 

“No, I mean. I can help. I’m willing to help. To do that for you. I’m your friend. I want to help.” He restates, his voice a little urgent. 

“Willing to do what?” You ask, wholly confused with where he was going with this. 

He takes a breath. “Sex. Or, an orgasm, at least. You said no one you knew would be willing to help you like that. I am. If you want.” He blurts out. 

You stand there, momentarily shocked into silence. You’re suddenly able to recall the conversation you’d had, just a few days prior, and realize what he was trying to say.  Here you were, in your kitchen, with your friend- your roommate, and he was selflessly offering himself to you. For sex. For de-stressing sex.  He sounded so earnest, despite the obvious lewdness of his offer, and the juxtaposition made your head spin. 

“I..” You start, your voice caught in your throat. 

“You don’t have to feel compelled to say yes. I’m just offering. I want to help you.” He interjects, his voice still carrying that unselfishness you’d known from the very beginning. 

“I.. no. I mean, yes. I want to say yes.” You find yourself admitting after a moment. “But.. are you sure? It’s.. I mean, it’s sex, Spencer.” You whisper. 

“I’m aware.” He says, matching your softer tone. “I’m okay with that. Are you?” 

You take a breath. Looking up at him, you take in his slightly tousled hair illuminated by the soft moonlight that drifted in through your apartment windows. His white sleep shirt was crumpled, and even in the darkness that enveloped you, you could decipher the kindness in his eyes, his mere presence bringing a shade of ease into you as you spoke to him. 

“Yes.” You murmur out, the words flowing out with no hesitation. “I’m okay with that.” 

“Can I kiss you?” He says, gently, and your nod of affirmation is almost immediate. 

He steps closer and cups your cheek, before pressing his lips against yours gently. It’s a sweeter kiss, something that, despite never saying out loud, you would have expected from him. His mouth moves languidly against yours, before pulling away, slightly out of breath. 

“Kissing actually helps to reduce cortisol.” He murmurs. “It indirectly lowers stress as a result. Is it working?” 

And true to his words, you realized that the tightness in your chest had faded somewhat, no longer blaring with the intensity you had just felt a few minutes prior. An entirely new feeling settled within you- an ache, a need for this man and what he brought to you. 

“Yeah. It’s working.” You mumble out. 

As if he could read your mind, Spencer gently takes your hand. “Let’s move to the couch, yeah?” He murmurs, already leading you to his spot of preference. 

He gently guides you to sit on the couch, quickly finding your lips once again to exchange some soft kisses along the way. His hands drift up and down your back, fingertips light and tender. His every touch speaks to something more, to an unspoken dedication that you’d never felt before until this moment.

To something that maybe extended beyond the original purpose of your rendezvous. “Is this alright?” He asks, his tone hushed and reverent. 

You nod, almost in a trance. He was so gentle, so reassuring. He was exactly what you needed. 

His lips find yours again and you respond eagerly, letting your hands tangle into the mess of brown hair that sat atop his head. He let out a small groan as your fingers slightly tugged on the strands, sending a thrill through you. 

He starts to trail the kisses down your neck, seeking out more sensitive spots that could bring you into a further state of rest and repose.  Everything about you spurred him on, it seemed. He paid attention to every noise, every movement– his ultimate goal seeming to hinge on your pleasure throughout this. 

Of course, you respond accordingly to the dedication, a soft gasp or whimper escaping you when he would mouth at the perfect spot, which would only cause him to increase his actions tenfold, leading to even more response on your end. 

The perfect feedback loop driving you to pliancy and ecstasy all at once.

His lips begin to drift down, and you realize he’s settling in between your legs now, hands on the waistband of your sleep clothes, urging you to lie down completely, which you do. 

“Gonna take these off now.” He whispers, looking up at you between your legs. 

“Please.” You respond, waiting with bated breath. 

He manages to pull down the last barrier between you two, before being met with the mess he’d created. His lips parted as his fingers trailed lightly over your wet slit, your arousal evident on his finger as he marveled on the effect he could have on you. 

“Jesus, you’re beautiful.” He whispers, as if his eyes are set upon something precious, something worthy of worship. And in a way, isn’t that exactly what he’d set out to do the moment he’d placed his face between your thighs? 

He loops his arms around your thighs, before slowly allowing his tongue to dart out, delicately, tracing the wetness of your pussy. A moan slips out of you, low and needy, and that’s all the confirmation he needs before he’s diving in, devouring your cunt like a man starved. 

“Spencer.” You gasp out. You say his name like prayer, like he is god-given, because in this moment, he is. 

His tongue traces your clit in circles, before directly placing his lips over the swollen bud, applying some light suction. The tenderness in the action, the way his eyes flit upto yours, watching your gaze for the utmost reassurance that he was doing right by you, only hurdle you closer and closer to your pleasurable end. 

It’s almost as if you’re floating, your back arching as his face stubbornly stays buried in your cunt, lapping at your wetness insistently. He wants your release just as bad as you do, and it’s clear he’ll do anything for the sweetness that comes with you falling apart in his arms. 

“Oh god.” You moan out- how is it possible to feel so airy, and yet so present all at once? To feel every movement of Spencer’s warm, wet tongue lavishing your clit, and still be somewhere else entirely- a new height of pleasure you had sorely needed all along. 

One of his hands leaves the iron-grip it had your thighs in, letting his fingers drift towards your entrance. He slips the digits in, slowly pumping into you, only adding to the overwhelming rapture you found yourself in. Your eyes shoot open, and you find yourself writhing against him. 

“Spencer- oh god. Please, please.” You babble out, legs starting to tense with the beginnings of your orgasm. 

He only pulls away enough to murmur softly. “That’s it.” His fingers continue their steady pace into you, his grip on your thigh keeping you planted to the mattress. “I got you, love. Come for me.”

With nothing else to say, he resumes eating you out, and the combination of his fingers and mouth finally barrels you towards your orgasm, shuddering as it rips through you, as your every sense is clouded- with this, with him. 

It’s only until you’ve ridden out the entirety of your orgasm that he pulls away. Sitting upright, he leans forward to caress your jaw, taking in the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the flushed appearance your face had taken on in the throes of gratification. 

“Feeling better?” He asks, softly. 

“Entirely.” You whisper back, almost in awe. Not only at how well it worked, but how adoringly he stared at you, it being enough to stop your heart in your chest. Did he always look like this? How did you never notice? 

“Can I return the favor?” You implore, already beginning to get up, but Spencer pushes you back down lightly, shaking his head. 

“You’re tired.” He says, as if his word was fact, despite these being your feelings that were being spoken about. “Right now, the oxytocin coursing through your body is priming you perfectly for sleep, and God knows you need it.” He chuckles out.

You realize that he’s right, and for the first time, you feel the fatigue that comes naturally with sleep, as opposed to the restless nights you’d been dealing with. You still feel disappointed though, feeling a sting of rejection as you’re unable to touch him back. Still, your tiredness is undeniable, and so you nod. 

He gets up, finding a blanket to lay on top of you, before kneeling beside your face. He looks at you with subtle veneration, before letting his lips brush against your forehead. 

“I’ll take you up on your offer tomorrow, though, if that’s alright.” He murmurs. “When you’re rested.” 

Your smile is immediate. “Deal.” You whisper out. 

He looks at you for another beat, before letting his knuckles brush against your cheek, slowly retreating to his bedroom, as to let you get the rest you so desperately needed. 

You close your eyes, amazed by the tranquility that came with Spencer. How simple intimacy came with him, as if that’s how it should’ve been all along. 

You know you’ll ponder on this fact in greater detail later on, but for now, you relished in serenity of the afterglow. 

“Spencer Reid.” You think. “What divine comfort you are.” 

HOOOLY SHIT. how long has it been since i uploaded? a long time? i think. hahahaha. in between traveling, [redacted life updates], and even more, i just wasn't very inspired to write. i hope this speaks to some of you, and i hope it was enjoyable to read. as usual, any likes, comments, reblogs are so so so deeply appreciated. feedback as well! thank you so so so much for reading regardless, i am eternally grateful for any and all support <3 (oh also haha. this was written for @imagining-in-the-margins friends with benefits challenge! check it out.)

[aniihera]

Ok. I’ve been compiling my thoughts on the pathologic 2 endings for a while now, and I’ve finally pinpointed my feelings on them (enough to share at least). I’m desperate to hear what others think about them too.

Lengthy Kin-themed rant oncoming? Perhaps.

More under the cut.

CW: Spoilers for Pathologic 2 (of course).

- - -

To preface: As I am Māori, not Buryat or of the other cultures I have heard the Kin to be based on, my perspective is more from *my* understanding of what it means to be Indigenous than anything else. There are probably many things I’m missing. But I’d like to throw in my two cents, however relevant they are.

Suffice to say, my feelings are complicated. Stylistically and narratively, there was a lot that I enjoyed. From a reconnecting/ mixed Indigenous perspective, however, I still feel unwillingly bisected, torn.

At the culmination of everything, Artemy Burakh and the player are roped into a cruel, two-pronged choice. Destroy the Polyhedron along with the miracles of the Steppe, or let the plague devour the town as you lead the Kin back to its heart. In these scenarios, you either assimilate the Kin into the town, which many of them will despise you for, or push out the nonindigenous townsfolk by force, letting nature run its course. Any third option has already been amputated, beyond your will. You cannot protect the Kin completely either way, some will likely die from the plague in the latter, and the more fantastical will in the first, by being cleaved from the earth’s dying magic.

Diurnal, or Nocturnal. No matter how you look at it, the kin cannot thrive in either. For it to be a choice at all, hurt, to say the least. After playing the bachelor’s route in the first game, I’m sure that was deliberate in an anti-utopian sense, perfection is impossible etc, etc. But the first lens I saw it through, stuck with me.

When I initially read Isidor say this after Artemy’s trial in the abattoir:

“Facing the Future is the way of Love. Facing the Past is the way of Love. But the two are incompatible, and it broke my heart.”

I was devastated. The hopeless dichotomisation of future and past… and I could only construe it as assimilation or death in some manner (but I could not see what role it took yet). That feeling festered for a while, but I wanted to see it from another angle. I think it's natural to be sensitive to the words “progress” (which is usually linked to “civilisation” and colonisation) when anchored against Indigenous culture, but I didn’t want that to blind me completely.

On its own, I do like this line. It’s weighty. And I think it articulates aspects of Indigenous struggle well, to some degree. Going back to the “past” is somewhat impossible for many reasons. Decolonisation is needed but I don’t believe it means restoring the “past” fully by any means. Culture is not stagnant, and neither is the future. To say they are incompatible though pains me. Especially when contextualised inside the divide between the kin and the town. It is an intentionally agonising line, and successfully so. Pitting the themes of Past/Future, against, Kin/Town, is something I find hard to reconcile with. Even just the first part irks me; personally the past walks with me at every step, the future is void and useless without it in full view. But I wouldn’t say a line from Isidor (or Artemy’s subconscious) necessarily defines the game more than it does his perspective. For me, it is the patterns that follow and precede it.

Aspity is a very obvious portrayal of what it looks like to “face the past” completely. Visiting her sanctuary, It becomes very evident that her opinions of the non-Kinfolk sway towards genocidal. They must “flood the town”, as she put it. Considering their treatment on the Bull Project and well… everything else, It’s not unfounded. During the night visits, we develop a growing understanding of what is at stake for the kin. Their language, legends, arts, and traditions, and too many Kin are dying from pest and persecution (Its a familiar story). Herb brides are forced to sell their cultural dance to get by (another familiar story for Māori, kapa haka and tourism, our culture has also become a commodity out of necessity). Legends like the shabnak adyr too are warped by the townsfolk (as it is used as an excuse to target Kin women). Assimilation means these things for them too.

There's also the case of how the Kin are depicted as more animalistic than the “more human” townsfolk. Oyun, Big Vlad, and even Artemy have a long history referring to them as such. To make the Kin less than human is inherently othering (as is any case where the empire views us as inherently more primitive or unevolved). The importance placed on Aurochs and being one with nature in Kin culture paints this in a less hostile light (Big Vlad’s view not so much). But I fear the effect this might have on player perceptions of the Kin will be negative regardless. I’ve seen a few statements about the Kin being a “hivemind”, I can't say I entirely agree. Many are divided on how they view Artemy, as well as what they desire for the future. I’ve also seen this in reference to when a few odonghe gift you organs for your tinctures, but at this point everyone in the town is desperate for a cure no matter the cost. Their more violent practices appear to weaken many fans' empathy for the Kin, painting the Nocturnal ending darker and darker. Getting rid of herb bride “marriages” would be a good thing at least right? Assimilation might be a good thing then? Nothing good comes without cost, and for the Kin this cost is too steep. Survival doesn't have to mean losing yourself piece by piece.

I will say that despite liking the non-Kin townsfolk, I do wish there was a larger Kin presence among the main roles. While we have Nara, Aspity, Oyun, and Taya, I understand how their presence does little to assuage the dread of seeing the rest of the cast wade out into the Steppe. For me, seeing Murky and Sticky in such a lost state during the Nocturnal ending, made me unable to see it as anything but a mistake.

Two other alternating themes are present through the endings. Childhood (miracles and dreams) and adulthood (waking up and walking forward). The dominant presence of children in Nocturnal, and the fact that walking through the near empty town really does feel like a nightmare, showcases this. The impossible has been made possible, the earth sleeps, sated. The endless cycle of responsibility, from father to son, from parent to child... Children rule the future here. In Diurnal, this cycle, at least, has some room to be broken. Responsibilities are weighed more evenly. Letting go of miracles and childhood dreams, that is the only future in this end. I’m not sure If i have to discuss how problematic it might be to place indigenous revival in the realm of childishness, and assimilation in the realm of growing up, but i thought i'd leave the notion there regardless.

Leaving how you view the two ends aside, it's obvious that Nocturnal has a heavier, gloomier tone.

Maybe having a third ending would’ve been reductive, to have one person so easily find a solution to unifying the town. But, it hurts so deeply to have that choice wrenched from your hands. The choice might have been severed by Isidor, but it felt like so much was possible for Artemy. With one foot in both worlds, the potential of true reconnection, i thought we could move past what was possible for his father. It felt like that was the direction Artemy was moving in, seeing the choices before him and bullheadedly trampling through the middle. Just like he did with the cure, finding the impossible connection.

As it stands, the endings are brutal. Survival for the kin is held by a thread, regardless of the direction you look. They either die a physical death, or a cultural and spiritual one (the two could very well be interpreted as present in both depending on how you look at it). By your conversations with Aspity, even if they survive, the Diurnal end is hinted to lead to an essential “dissolution” of the Kin as they know it. Wherein the differences between the Town and Kin will become so negligible that the two are no longer distinct. Which from my perspective is its own, however voiceless tragedy.

Ok, that was a lot of negativity but I’d like to be candid. Even despite all that, Pathologic is still one of my favourite games of all time. I saw someone say on here that Pathologic 2 is most interesting when allowing the player to decide where love takes them (even if they are led to extremes). Love being at the forefront, regardless of the choices you make, no wrong answers, that's what I appreciated most when playing as Artemy. Whether you chose to kill the three odonghe for Rubin, begged him to stay despite everything, killed Oyun, the Oglimskys, or the pest, it was for the love of something. The internal strife of having a mixed identity too, the rejection and affection from both sides, is something I related to even if the circumstances were miles apart from my own. I wish that Nocturnal aligned with that energy, that the nuances there were a little less stark. That opposing assimilation felt like less of a mistake.

There's a lot more I could delve into but this is pretty long already. This post could all read like nonsense/surface level, but I’m curious to see what other people think! Especially other indigenous folk, I’m dying to know how others interpreted the endings regarding the Kin.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

── THE GLASS PRINCESS // THREE

Series Synopsis: You wake up in a strange room with no memories, broken glass at your bedside, and a prince named Zuko as your only chance at figuring out who you really are.

Chapter Synopsis: You have your first day at the Royal Fire Academy, where you meet the other girls, including Kaho.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.1k

Content Warnings: complicated relationships (strangers to friends to lovers to enemies to strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers), amnesia, alternate universe, lots of secrets and lying and mystery

A/N: zuko in his letters (sage, wise, cool and collected) vs zuko irl (SOO fucking awkward)

To His Royal Highness The Prince Zuko,

I apologize for my earlier language. In truth, it feels strange for me to speak to you as if you were my friend. I think that it is because you are my benefactor, and a prince besides, so there is a need for formal and proper conduct. We have that kind of relationship, if you can see it from my perspective.

Your offer of help is greatly appreciated, though I am not quite sure what I have done to deserve it. I shall try to solve my troubles on my own, when I can, but if it should come to it, I will try to remember that I have the prince of the Fire Nation on my side. I wonder how many girls at the academy can claim that, indeed!

Anyways, my roommate is nice. Her name is Jia-Li, and she is self-reportedly average, but all told, we get along well enough. I wish I could say the same for the rest of my classmates — barring, naturally, Ty Lee — but I am afraid to report that we already do not get along. There is this one girl, Kaho, who has a specific grudge against me, despite my attempts at avoiding that outcome…but I should not bore you with the details. Suffice to say that not everyone is as kind as Jia-Li and Ty Lee and Mai and you have been. It is as Jia-Li said, though: two true friends are better than ten false ones. It does not upset me (though it might if I am challenged to an Agni Kai!)

Thank you for feeding Bian. She did seem pleased when she returned to the aviary at the academy. I also gave her a treat. By the way, the falconer said she was supposed to be yours. Is that true? If it is, then I do not think that I deserve such a creature, though of course I thank you for giving her to me anyways. She is very beautiful and possesses a gentle heart, which is a solace in the more trying times.

Ever Your Highness’s humble and obedient servant Sincerely, Ursa

P.S. I am sorry to say that I still do not recall anything about my past. I shall keep you updated if that changes.

You were up before Jia-Li, nervous energy thrumming through you in anticipation for the first day of classes. Ty Lee had stayed late into the night, and then you had spent the candle Jia-Li had lit for you writing to Prince Zuko, so you hadn’t had any time to read or prepare for lessons.

“Ugh,” Jia-Li groaned when you threw open the curtains, the rising sunlight filtering into the room, a beam landing directly on her face, which she promptly covered with a pillow. “What are you doing?”

“You’re a Firebender, aren’t you? Don’t you all rise with the sun anyways?” you said.

“I don’t know who told you that, but they were full of bullshit,” Jia-Li said. “I rise after I’ve had a full night’s rest, which I have not yet.”

“Breakfast is soon,” you said, pulling on your shoes. “You’ll miss it if you don’t get ready now, and then you’ll have to go to class on an empty stomach. I’m sure that doesn’t sound appealing.”

“On second thoughts, I miss not having a roommate,” Jia-Li said, though she did toss aside her pillow and roll out of the bed, thudding to the ground and shoving her feet in a pair of fluffy slippers. Her hair stuck up every which way, and there were bags under her half-lidded eyes as she trudged past you to her vanity table. “You can go ahead and meet Ty Lee in the dining hall now, if you want. I’ll come down later.”

“Do you think she’ll be there already?” you said.

“Yeah,” Jia-Li said. “That girl is the epitome of a morning person. She’s probably been anxiously waiting for you for a while now.”

“Then I shouldn’t keep her waiting any longer,” you said. “See you in class, Jia-Li.”

“See you, Ursa,” she said.

As Jia-Li had predicted, Ty Lee was waiting outside of the door to the dining hall, where all of the girls who boarded at the academy had their meals. She was playing with her fingers nervously, but when she saw you, she bloomed with joy, dancing over to stand beside you.

“Good morning! Are you ready for our first day?” she trilled.

“Not at all,” you said. “I didn’t have any time to read yesterday. I don’t know anything. If the teacher calls on me, I’ll be lost.”

“It’ll be fine,” Ty Lee said, putting a piece of bread on her plate and spreading something on its fluffy surface. “We’re new, so we’ll probably get away with sitting in the back and doing the bare minimum.”

“Let’s hope so,” you said, copying her, trusting her to know what was and wasn’t good to eat at the school. She flounced to the end of the table, and you followed her, sitting across from her so that you two could talk.

“Ty Lee!” a girl said. “Come sit with us!”

“No, sit with us!” another said.

“We asked first!” the first girl said.

“So? She obviously likes us more, we’re way hotter!” the second argued. They began to squabble as you gave Ty Lee a bewildered look.

“What is going on?” you said.

“Besides Kaho, almost everyone at the school liked me…” she said awkwardly. “I guess you could say I was popular! Everyone’s happy I’m back.”

“Looks like it,” you said, baffled at just how many people were trying to claim the spot at Ty Lee’s side. Thankfully, none of them tried to take your space, though you got your own share of dirty glares, which you could only cock your head at in confusion.

“Guys, go away. I’m trying to hang out with my friend from the palace, Ursa,” Ty Lee said.

“What was she there, a servant?” one of the girls said. You glanced down at your clothes, which were the same uniform as everyone else, and then you swallowed. Unlike the other girls, with their expensive hair ribbons and jewelry, you didn’t have anything to your name that marked you as a daughter of nobility — because you weren’t one. It was a safe assumption for the girl to make, and it was even one you’d made about yourself in the past, so why did it hurt your feelings that she had said such a thing?

“Hey!” Ty Lee said. “She’s a friend of the prince — I mean, the princess! Yeah, that’s right, she’s Azula’s friend!”

Immediately, the girls scrambled away from you, and the one who had called you a servant paled. Dropping to her knees before Ty Lee, she bowed her head.

“I am so, so sorry. I didn’t mean any disrespect to a friend of Princess Azula’s!” she said.

“Apologize to Ursa,” Ty Lee said, chipper again now that she had found some kind of justice for you.

“It’s fine, Ty Lee. I can see why she thought that, so I’m not upset,” you said. The girl took the opportunity to leap to her feet and race to the other side of the table, the others following suit at the reminder of the princess.

“Those girls are all jerks,” Ty Lee said once you were alone again. “I’m sorry she was talking about you like that.”

“It’s not something you should say sorry for,” you said. “You didn’t do it. Anyways, I was expecting it; Jia-Li told me that the girls aren’t that nice, so it’s not a surprise. The real question is why you claimed my association to be with the princess instead of the prince.”

“Oh, that’s an easy one to answer,” she said. “They all remember Azula from when she attended, so she’s a more concrete threat in their minds. Only a few of them have met Zuko, and he’s been banished for a while, so his name doesn’t carry as much weight. Besides, if you’re associated with one member of the royal family, you’re associated with all of them, so I wasn’t technically wrong.”

“Alright,” you said, forcing yourself to chew on your food, even though it felt heavy and leaden in your mouth. It wasn’t a question of taste; somewhere, in the back of your mind, you could tell that you would ordinarily like eating this. It was your nerves which were ruining the experience, which made your tongue stiff and your jaw tight. You knew, though, that you needed food in order to have energy for the day, so you made yourself eat it despite your misgivings, despite the mental labor that even the mere act of swallowing took.

The classroom was small, which made sense, considering there were only a few girls in your year. What didn’t make sense was that the two desks in the very front were left open, though you had an inkling that one specific person had something to do with it.

“Ty Lee. Ursa,” a girl said. Her hair was pin straight and dark, half of it tied up with a white-and-gold ribbon, the rest falling around her shoulders, her midnight eyes reflecting the torches hanging around the classroom. “We saved you two seats.”

“Kaho,” Ty Lee said through gritted teeth. “You shouldn’t have.”

“I know,” Kaho said. “You can say I did it out of the goodness of my own heart.”

“Like I said,” Ty Lee said. “You shouldn’t have.”

“Thank you,” you said softly, not wanting to get into an argument with the very girl Jia-Li had warned you about last night.

“See,” Kaho said. “At least one of you has proper manners. Though, to be honest, I would’ve expected the daughter of a nobleman to be raised better than the girl that the prince found in the trash.”

“She wasn’t found in the trash!” Ty Lee said.

“Wasn’t she?” Kaho said.

“You can let it be, Ty Lee. It’s fine,” you said. “Let’s just sit down before the Etiquette Mistress gets here.”

Your first class was on the proper etiquette to have in polite society. Considering the many subtleties of etiquette, this was something you were nervous for, as you had no idea how to behave in polite society, or what any of that meant in the first place. It seemed that the others expected as much, for there was a multitude of snickers as you sat in the very front and waited for the Etiquette Mistress to arrive.

“Wonderful, everyone is on time!” the Etiquette Mistress said as she walked in exactly at the second class had to start. She was a neatly dressed and perfectly put together woman, with not even an eyelash out of place. “Let’s begin promptly with a review from our last class. Who can tell me what the three pillars of etiquette are?” She scanned the room, but only one girl had her hand raised. “Kaho?”

“Respect, consideration, and punctuality,” Kaho said, smirking as she folded her hands in her lap. The Etiquette Mistress did not frown, but the corners of her mouth threatened to tug downwards, and before you could think about it, you were raising your own hand.

“Ursa?” the Etiquette Mistress said. “Do you have something else to add?”

“It’s a common misconception that punctuality is a pillar of etiquette. However, in truth, it is not a pillar unto itself but rather a natural development and extension of the pillars of respect and consideration,” you said, though you had no idea where the words were coming from, only that some long-dormant knowledge of yours was bubbling to the surface. “The third pillar is actually honesty, madam, though of course honesty does not imply brutality but tact, benevolence, and integrity.”

Everyone in the room was silent. You could feel Kaho’s eyes boring holes into your back, but you stared steadily ahead, waiting for the Etiquette Mistress to react.

She smiled slightly. “That is correct. I also appreciate that you addressed me with a title; it demonstrates an elegant sort of etiquette that a lady must be born with or else have studied in depth from a young age.”

“Thank you, madam,” you said. The Etiquette Mistress nodded before turning to the board so that she could continue to teach you a lesson on which utensils to use for which meal.

This, too, you excelled in. You were the only student who knew when to use each utensil, even during the trick questions that the Etiquette Mistress threw out to trip you up. With every subsequent test passed, you felt your approval in the eyes of the Etiquette Mistress rising, though it was rapidly falling amongst your classmates, especially Kaho, who must’ve once been the star of the class.

“I thought you said you didn’t have time to study!” Ty Lee hissed once the Etiquette Mistress had left and you all were given a five minute break before the History Mistress arrived.

“I didn’t,” you said.

“Huh? Then how’d you manage to answer her questions so perfectly?” she said.

“I’m not sure. I just knew it already, somehow,” you said.

“Looks like Prince Zuko has a keen eye,” Kaho said from behind you. “To find the diamond amongst the sludge.”

For some reason, even though she was calling you a diamond, it didn’t feel like much of a compliment. Ty Lee seemed to agree, her kind, open face closing into a dark scowl.

“Kaho, you should just shut up,” she said.

“Is that a challenge?” Kaho said.

“It could be, but don’t forget that I’m one of Azula’s most trusted comrades. Is that a fight you think you could win?” Ty Lee said. Kaho seemed furious, but she had no argument, not when Ty Lee was objectively correct.

“The History Mistress will be here soon,” Jia-Li interjected, trying to break the tension. “Let’s forget about all of this and move on.”

“Sozin’s beard, Jia-Li, nobody cares about history,” Kaho said, rolling her eyes. “Just sit in the back and keep quiet like usual.”

Jia-Li stuck her tongue out at Kaho when the other turned away, but you noticed she did not stand up for herself. Ty Lee was the only one who was brave enough to say anything, and even then, you wondered how much of it was false bravado and how much of it was genuine self-confidence.

“Good morning, class,” the History Mistress said.

“Good morning, History Mistress,” you all chorused in unison.

“Today, we will be learning about an event that occurred relatively recently, but will definitely be written down in the history books in the years to come: Prince Zuko’s defeat of Ba Sing Se,” she said.

Ba Sing Se — it was where the prince had found you. You knew that the city had, at some point, fallen to the Fire Nation, but you didn’t know what had happened or how it had happened. This was definitely a topic of some personal interest to you, and you could not help leaning forward in your seat a bit.

“I thought we might go over this, since we now have a personal connection to it in the class,” the History Mistress said. “Namely, Ursa, who was found by Prince Zuko during the invasion.”

The entire class turned to look at you as the History Mistress began to draw a diagram on the board. The weight of their gazes was a suffocating burden, but you did not afford them the privilege of seeing you crumple, for you knew that you had to, in some way, remain strong, lest they pounce upon your perceived weakness.

“During his hunt for the Avatar, Prince Zuko and his uncle, the former General Iroh, found themselves separated from their ship and amongst Earth Kingdom refugees fleeing to the capital city of Ba Sing Se.

“It seemed to be a damning sentence; after all, what place does Fire Nation royalty have in such a city? But our prince is wise and loyal. He and his uncle opened a tea shop in order to bide their time, blending in with the city and learning its secrets.

“Taking a risk, he wrote to his father, telling him he had found a way into Ba Sing Se. The Fire Lord Ozai, who has always had the utmost of faith in his son to do what must be done, sent him the Soldiers of Agni in aid, promising a larger army if the Soldiers of Agni were not enough.

“For those of you who do not recall our lesson from the beginning of the term about the military structures that Fire Lord Azulon put into place, the Soldiers of Agni are the most elite Firebenders in the nation, excepting, of course, the royal family.

“So these proud men, who were the epitome of Fire itself, donned the muddy browns and greens of the Earth Kingdom on the command of their lord and snuck into Ba Sing Se in the same way that Prince Zuko and former General Iroh had. There, they met the prince, who formed their plan of attack.

“On the agreed-upon date, the Soldiers of Agni and Prince Zuko stormed the palace, beginning by executing all of the guards who tried to fight back. The rest of the guards, knowing they were outnumbered, quickly defected, and when the former General Iroh tried to stop them, they took him prisoner for the royal family, allowing the Soldiers of Agni and Prince Zuko to continue their invasion.

“Their main goal was to get rid of everyone who lived in that palace, in which they were successful. Not even the Earth King’s pet bear was spared. He and the rest of the palace’s inhabitants were destroyed, along with an entire wing of the Earth Palace, which the Soldiers of Agni brought crumbling to the ground with their fire and their might.

“Sadly, all of the Soldiers of Agni that fought to take the Earth Palace lost their lives that day. Most of the palace staff were Earthbenders, and they fought back, outnumbering the Soldiers of Agni ten to one. The Soldiers of Agni possessed superior skills, but those were barely enough against such a large quantity of enemies.

“We cannot forget the sacrifices they made. It is through the bravery, spirit, and courage of the Soldiers of Agni that the Fire Nation finally took Ba Sing Se for good. Even in a confrontation where they were at such an enormous disadvantage, the Soldiers of Agni kept fighting for their country, their home, and for the Fire Lord, eventually emerging victorious, though they were unable to enjoy the fruits of their victory. We must always follow this example of duty and selflessness, ever asking ourselves what we, too, can give up for the welfare of the Fire Nation.”

After her long-winded explanation, the History Mistress exhaled, wiping away a tear from the corner of her left eye and then holding her hands to her heart. You all had a quiet moment, presumably in honor of the Soldiers of Agni, and then, tentatively, Jia-Li raised her hand.

“History Mistress, what does all of that have to do with Ursa?” she said.

“That’s something you should ask her, not me,” the History Mistress said, motioning towards you. “Go on, Ursa. Tell us what part you played in this entire tale.”

You gulped. “To be frank, I don’t remember myself what my role was, but I’ve been filled in by Mai and Prince Zuko. Apparently, I was a Fire Nation soldier on the front lines, but at some point, I was taken prisoner by the Earth Kingdom. They were torturing me in Ba Sing Se for Fire Nation secrets. After invading the city, Prince Zuko found me, and he brought me to the palace to be healed. It was there that I woke up without any memories.”

“You were a soldier?” Kaho said, without even raising her hand. She scoffed. “You look entirely too soft to ever have been fighting on the front lines.”

“Kaho, she was in jail for who knows how long,” Jia-Li said softly. “Of course she’s not in fighting shape anymore. Especially if they were torturing her…poor Ursa. You’re so brave for not giving in.”

“That’s right,” the History Mistress said. “We must all endeavor to be like Ursa, as well, who after all of her ordeals is still set upon nothing but improving herself for her country. She truly is the example of what a Fire Nation citizen should be like. Now, let us thank her for sharing her story.”

“Thank you, Ursa,” everyone said. You sat on your hands and hated every second of it. You didn’t like the attention being called to you once again. You just wanted to fade into the background and be forgotten, but more and more, it seemed like that was impossible.

“The topic of prisoners is a great segue into what we’re going to be talking about in today’s lesson. Who can name one historical Fire Nation figure that was also kept in captivity by the Earth Kingdom?” the History Mistress said.

To no one’s surprise, it was Kaho volunteering once more, but this time, she was unchallenged, as you focused all of your energy on writing notes about the material. After all, you didn’t know any of this, and you figured it was likely important that you pick up such things, considering the entirely blank slate that was your mind at present.

The academy’s aviary was only a short walk from the dormitories, and you found yourself frequenting the path already, both because of your correspondence with Prince Zuko and because Bian was one of the few beings that you could say without question was your friend.

“I don’t understand why they already have decided that I am so worthless,” you sniffed, finally allowing yourself to cry in the solitude of the aviary.

Bian tilted her head at you, nudging you with her cold beak. You wiped away your tears before scratching her on her feathery chest.

“I don’t even know half of their names,” you said. “Yet they are convinced that I am someone less than them. Someone worthless. They think of me as waste, Bian — a rubbish girl who does not deserve to be their peer.”

Of course, your messenger hawk was not intimately acquainted with the subtleties of such politics and divisions, but for the moment, it seemed as if she understood, as she let out a low, rumbling coo. It was the most comfort you could dream of, and you bit your lip to prevent a sob from falling past your lips.

“Maybe it’s true,” you said. “You can decorate trash all you want. At the end of the day, you can’t change what it is. Maybe I don’t belong here. I don’t know what Prince Zuko was thinking, sending me to study with these girls.”

Bian nipped your sleeve, almost like a reprimand. You gave her a warning look, reminding her to keep her beak to herself, but all you earned in response was indifference — your reward for thinking a bird could read your expressions and would care about them, even if she could.

“And for some reason, Kaho has a personal vendetta against me,” you said. “I can’t think of anything I’ve done to deserve it. Is it because I corrected her during our etiquette class? But she hated me even before that.”

Jia-Li had mentioned something about Kaho envying you for your closeness with the royal family, but it wasn’t as if you had chosen that. You hadn’t chosen to be saved by Prince Zuko. You hadn’t chosen to lose your memories. You hadn’t chosen to live like this. None of it was in your control, so why did she blame you for it all?

“I just wish I knew who I was,” you said. “Things would be easier if I knew there was someone who loved me. Someone who was waiting for me to come back. If I was a Fire Nation soldier, then my family — they might be nearby, right? I should…I should be trying to find them, not studying at this school!”

You could feel the judgment rolling off of Bian in waves, which was ridiculous, because she was after all just a messenger hawk and was incapable of judging anyone. Still, if she were a person, you fancied she would be judging you at the moment, and your shoulders slumped as you realized how ridiculous you sounded.

“I’m in a position that many greatly desire, and here I am, complaining. I am in an elite institution, my tutelage sponsored by a prince who is only all-too-eager to help me with whatever I need. It is silly that I am so upset, it’s just that — it’s just that I feel like some part of me is missing. Like I lost who I am when I lost my memories, and not just in the sense of my identity. It was something physical. There is something more to me that is out of my grasp, and no matter how hard I try, I cannot reach it,” you said, extending your hand and closing your fist around empty air.

As per usual, there was nothing. It was a futile exercise. No matter how many times you did it, the result would be the same. You would not be able to find that part of you again, not for some time.

“Who am I, really?” you said to Bian. “That’s what I want to know. Who was Ursa? Who were my parents? Did I have siblings? What about friends? What did I do for fun? I don’t know any of it. I feel like I will only be happy again if I can find out. Even if it’s terrible. Even if it means reliving the torture that the Earth Kingdom put me through. I just want to remember.”

But try as you might, there was still nothing. You still had no idea who you were. Although you had had a full day of instruction at the academy, you were in no better of a position than you had been on the day you started.

Ursa,

You really can just call me Zuko. You don’t have to refer to me as the prince, unless you are completely more comfortable with that. Though it is true that I am your benefactor, I am not someone you should defer to. If you can bring yourself to do it, then I should like if you actually think of me as your friend. I would like to consider you mine, and so I will speak to you as if you are until you tell me otherwise.

I’d expect that none of the girls at the academy can claim that the prince of the Fire Nation is offering them friendship, and will be on their side even if they should reject that offer! Anyways, I have no doubt that you will be able to solve any issues that come your way, but sometimes, it is nice to have support. I want to be that for you. Even if it is not me, I hope there is someone at the academy who you can turn to for that.

It is a relief to hear that your roommate is someone likable. I asked Mai about Jia-Li; though she had nothing favorable to say, there was also nothing unfavorable, which is almost more of a compliment, coming from her. It’s good to know that you do not have to sleep beside someone you detest.

And speaking of, I am angered to hear that they have been treating you that way. Please remember that you are worth ten of them in my eyes. You only need to say the word, and I will have them spoken to harshly. Especially that Kaho, who has always been the horrid type (Mai was a little more explicit in her description, but I will spare you the specifics. Just imagine the most obscene expletives you can think of, and then imagine something even worse — that is probably in the range of what she was saying about her). Do not let her get you down; she is a spoiled, sheltered girl whose father is an Admiral and allows her to get away with doing whatever she wants because of his high status in the military. If you stand up to her, then I am sure she will back down. People like that usually do.

Yes, Bian was supposed to be my hawk, but I already have one and have no need for another, so she would’ve just sat in the aviary once I received her. It is for her own good that I gave her to you. If you do not like such an extravagant creature being yours alone, then you may imagine that you are borrowing her from me for the time being (though I will not accept her return — I think that she is attached to you now).

She is an exemplary bird, is she not? The falconer was very proud of her when she hatched. Although, I don’t know if anyone else would agree that she possesses a gentle heart; it’s not something typically said about messenger hawks, which are frequently ill-tempered. It is further proof that she is fond of you and was always meant to be yours, no matter whose name she was hatched in.

My own life has been dreadfully boring as of late. Meeting after meeting after meeting…it is definitely busy, being the prince of the Fire Nation. It’s like everyone wants to talk to me suddenly! But I’m not complaining. I much prefer being home to living on a ship and constantly wondering when I can go back, even if I had considerably more free time back then. 

I cannot think of anything else to write to you about, but I do not wish to stop quite yet, because once I am done with this letter, I will have to attend to some paperwork that I have been putting off. 

It has been sunny recently. The cooks made my favorite meal yesterday. Mai has been moping a lot more than usual (I think she misses Ty Lee). I gave bread to the turtleducks in the pond, and it seemed to cheer their spirits. My father allows me to sit at his right side for meetings nowadays, though as always, Azula is at his left. 

That’s about it. I guess that, as the heir to the throne, I should not keep procrastinating. It’s not very princely of me. 

Yours, Zuko

P.S. Once again, I am sorry to hear that. 

P.P.S. Please keep writing to me frequently, and with as many boring details as you care to include. I like hearing from you will take any excuse to not fill out these ridiculously tedious forms.

[windvexer]

Hello,

In your "practice sorcery in a not soul-sucking way" post, you mention a beginner artist doodling a landscape then saying their art "doesn't work".

I was wondering if you have a spell for warding a space against unwanted attention/negative energies, which was the magical equivalent of "paint or scribble until the whole page is black"?

No particular skill necessary, just something blunt and brute-force which may take a lot of energy (SCRIBBLING AS GARD AS YOU CAN AAAA) but which would be cathartic? It's my first spell since.... Playing around initiating a wand with my friend when we were kids. Wow.

The thought of trying to learn correspondences or something is.... Exhausting-sounding. I just need a space that's mine. Maybe with a "keep this space calm and quiet" element thrown in.... And something with knot-tying that leaves me with a charm I can hang, maybe?

If this is too much/too specific, feel free to disregard (though I'd appreciate knowing you got the ask). Thank you so much for your time, and I hope things are going well for you. Also, your chicken-frying spirit-trappjng pot is gorgeous.

Good morning, or it will be in 20 minutes when midnight rolls over.

We are in reference to this post about practicing sorcery, and also this post about my pot of many uses.

Yes I imagine there is probably a short answer but you've given me the chance to talk about theory, so :)

Knot-tying magic is nice and easy, and I really think it doesn't require special skills beyond tying knots. I have this old post about making a simple hanging charm with macrame.

One thing that helps me with the idea of knot magic is that you're always going to be binding something.

You can go with the idea that you are binding up statements of intent which then become like the rungs on a ladder, allowing other energies and intents to climb up into reality.

But I imagine more commonly, you bind things up to trap them (and perhaps releasing them for use later).

This provides a decent idea for part B of your spell, "keep this space calm and quiet." A nice knot tied up by the door to capture disruptions and bind them up and make them inert might suffice.

As for your part A, warding against unwanted attentions and negative energies - you've got options.

And a good place to start is that you want a space that's yours.

I am a huge believer in the efficacy of spiritual authority. Crudely put, there is actual magical power in saying, "this is my space. I own it. Only things I invite inside are allowed."

I don't mean that it's personally powerful, or therapeutic, although it may be those things. I mean that I believe it literally changes something in the record books of the Otherworlds.

Of course it immediately gets more complicated, especially in cases of territory disputes, but by and large a powerful first step for making a space feel safe, comfortable, and barred from unwanted attention and negative energies,

is to magically announce that the space is yours, you are its keeper, and from that point on you call the shots.

Perhaps best of all, doing so requires no correspondences. Just go around and start telling the world how it's going to be. Start with the doorway, and pay due respects to windows and vents. Not because they're vectors of negative energy contamination, but because thresholds are their own species of Creature and know a little bit more than some of the baser household construction.

Put on some music or whatever to get yourself in the state of mind to take it all seriously, and then go to the main entrance and say, "hello; let me introduce myself formally." (And then introduce yourself). "I'd like to let you know I'm going to be responsible for this space from now on. I'm the keeper of this room, and it's on me to decide what comes and goes - not other people in the household."

And then go about to all the various things in the room (for some reason I guess I decided this is for your bedroom) and let them all know that this is your space and you're taking the reins. "Rug by the door, I love the pattern you've got going on. Just to let you know-"

Draw a finger over the wall. That's your wall; the space within it is your space. Touch the window frame and the door frame; they frame only what you allow to pass through, and nothing else. Touch your old things and dig deep through layers of the past: speak the new truth to stacks of things that have been peacefully slumbering for years.

Just go around and have a nice time with it, and in general claim your space. That will set you up pretty well for whatever kind of work you'd like to do next.

The reason I recommend all these big paragraphs of things is because I think it fits the bill of what you're looking for, re. not requiring extra skills.

But then once you've got the room on board and you're set up as the new captain, you might well like to ask the door to keep out intruders. And you should; let the door know your vision of the room moving forward is that nobody but you tries to come into it.

And while you're at it, you might as well give your door a garotte to strangle anyone who tries to come in.

Or.... strangle the energy of intrusiveness in general, you know.

With the knot spell that we were talking about earlier!

If you prepare something nice and simple, like a macrame crystal net, or even a simple overhand knot in some cord, position this by the entryway so that the charm works in tandem with the door (who, remember, is now on your side but could possibly do with reinforcements).

(By the way, a decent way to 'cast' a knot spell is to take some cord and prepare a loose knot and wait for the irritating thing to happen; at the moment it happens, quickly yank the knot closed, and tell the cord, "see? That's exactly the thing I'm talking about, I've just given you an example to work from. You go ahead and bind up the rest now, just like that." Give the cord another knot that's not completely tightened, to let it do the rest itself.)

Besides getting the doors and windows on your side, and tying up intruders, I think you may especially enjoy a nice dish of salt. That link is to @aesethewitch who made a lovely writeup on the idea of ambient spells, and I think this may be just your thing.

I think technically it could be a nice dish of anything, but I think salt probably fits the bill. It's very cheap if you need to buy any, but more importantly, it's got an excellent "filtration" effect that helps to keep a space free of bad vibes.

As far as the political landscape of the room, such a dish of salt could hypothetically be placed anywhere, unlike the sneaky cord of binding, which probably ought to be right next to the door so it can pounce at first sight of an interloper.

[tanadrin]

The Gish Gallop was a term coined I think on the 2000s internet for a rhetorical maneuver where to buttress an argument you provide a ton of low-quality evidence; that the evidence is bad means it should be easy to refute, but the very large volume means it will take much longer to explain why it's all wrong than it did to copy-paste a bunch of links, and to a certain kind of very naive onlooker, it looks like the galloper is winning--after all, the one interlocutor has presented a ton of evidence! The second interlocutor has to spend so much time bending over backwards to refute it! Surely the first guy is more knowledgeable and authoritative. You aren't going to look at all that evidence yourself, of course--who has the time?

But listening to Dan McClellan talk about the Gospel of John this morning, it occurs to me that I don't think this is disingenuous. Not entirely. I think this is just the style of argumentation a lot of Christians (of a particular religious flavor) are used to. And I'm not just talking about in non- or para-religious matters like evolution. This is how Christianity understands the Bible.

This week's Data over Dogma is about the theology of John, and why it is non-trinitarian (because the Trinity is a much later doctrine developed as a kind of political compromise, maintained only because it had state backing) and does not actually identify Jesus with God (the theological developments are more complicated here; but suffice it to say it was not at all a given that "authorized bearer of the divine name" and "actually God" were the same being in 1st century Hellenistic Judaism, and indeed the distinction between the two had developed in Jewish thought precisely to avoid the awkwardness of anthropomorphic figures proclaiming themselves God in some of the older sections of the Hebrew Bible).

The funny thing is, there are a ton of passages in John that get trotted out as proof texts that Jesus is God. There are very good reasons in the case of each one to doubt that that is actually the correct reading; but of course, if you don't know anything about Greek, all you have are modern translations produced under the assumption of the dogma of the Trinity--mostly for devotional readers of the Bible who would be outraged if the Trinity wasn't in the New Testament--and you have been raised in a cultural and/or educational milieu where it is simply a default assumption about the way the world works that the Trinity is a timeless concept that has been in the Bible from the beginning, it sure looks like one side is spinning up tendentious arguments based on silly semantics that have nothing to do with the religion you learned as a kid.

But this exegetical approach (really, eisegetical) is common to many topics in traditional Christian theology. There are a ton of passages from the Septuagint that the Gospels warp to be about Jesus, even though, in their original context, this doesn't make any sense; sometimes even they're based on obvious mistranslations, like having Jesus ride into Jerusalem on the back of two animals simultaneously because you don't understand appositives. And you can poke holes in any individual bit of this exegesis, but psychologically having a ton of low-quality evidence for a thing is a pretty effective bulwark against thinking critically about that evidence; for every individual argument you knock down, the person you are arguing against is probably thinking, "yeah, but what about all that other stuff," even if they can't actually name all that other stuff in the moment.

And it's not mendacious! This is the stuff of true belief; this is how you get breathless Christian commentators saying the Bible couldn't possibly be written by human hands, because it so perfectly predicted Jesus even in the Old Testament--and the evidence they point to is, to anyone not steeped in traditional Christian exegesis, and especially to Jews who have their own exegetical traditions, absolutely barmy. Like really pants-on-head crazy stuff. But of course even now it is still being processed, in many parts of the world, through a two thousand year old tradition trying to reconcile it all and to normalize it all, and--to bring it back to discussions of evolution on the internet in the 2000s--I can't help but think of all those people who talk about the experience of thinking evolution was so obviously nonsense, because all they were exposed to was the fundamentalist strawman of it. When they finally sat down and began to read about it on their own, from unbiased sources--often with the intent of criticizing it--they realized how distorted their understanding was, and how limited their supposed outside view.

(If there are general lessons to be wrung from this situation, I think it's simply "beware of echo chambers." Social consensus in a bubble can make bad arguments feel much stronger than they really are, especially if you are not exposed to the actual opposing view. Be on guard against mistaking "quantity of evidence" for "quality of argument," especially if you're not gonna evaluate that evidence yourself. Also all religious traditions are fundamentally eisegetical, because in order to keep holy writ relevant to the community its meaning has to be constantly renegotiated. So, uh. If you want high-quality exegesis, ask an academic, not a theologian.)

[sword-dad-fukuzawa]

id loveeee to hear your thoughts on lawlight dynamics regarding that top L bottom light anon….

oh hell yeah. so more generally, i view top/bottom dynamics as characterization shorthand, which is not how absolutely everyone thinks about it but it's true for me. i think people who really care about dynamics tend to sort themselves into two characterization camps for a given character, and usually i fuck with one camp more than the other. also when i think about the roles of giving vs receiving there are, in fact, Vibes-based decisions i make about that.

also complicating this is that we tend to conflate topping with domination and bottoming with submission. and in some ways the use of top/bottom dynamics for me overlaps with dom/sub but not always, though it's also that there's a vulnerability in bottoming that is distinct from the vulnerability of topping. i'm not nearly educated enough to give a real seminar on dynamics and bdsm roles and how those intersect in yaoi and fandom so my only credentials i can give here is that i have lots and lots of kinky sex lmao

anyway. lawlight!

if i'm being completely honest i can see them switching as part of their inherent power struggle. like to be completely true to how they're characterized in canon. i blame this entirely on the time speaks fic for selling me so good on lawlight switching, but i'm also sure that most lightlaw content won't really appeal to me just because light yagami....does not top....to Me.

searching for how to justify this that isn't just "pure vibes" but i genuinely think he would be a strict bottom if he ever took the stick out of his ass. like yeah okay he's a genocidal megalomaniac but do you ever think of how many choices he has to make? how in control he has to be at all times? decision fatigue is killer and i think being the one who has to receive, has to lie back and take it, would be hot, humiliating, and cathartic for him specifically. he'd get off on the asymmetry of it. also he can't fucking stand the people who submit to him (misa, mikami). like. he doesn't really get horny over subservience as much as the conquering so like. yanno.

also i think being on top is just. expected of him? light yagami the honor student is cisgender and heterosexual and he has a hot girlfriend he'll settle down with and pop out 2.5 kids with. i think he'd be sick of it. combine it with the social stigma of taking it up the ass and you have a perfect storm of internalized homophobia and sexual repression that would mean light finds bottoming preferable, and hates it.

also the only person he would ever let top him, much less dominate him (i think light's feelings on domination and submission are even more convoluted than on topping and bottoming. suffice it to say he's a power bottom until he gets his brains fucked out first) has to be L. just because L is his equal, his rival, the only guy who could stymie him. he wouldn't let L top as much as he would cede that victory to him if it came down to it. also he'd probably get off on making L go crazy via his hot clenching asshole. anyway.

i feel a lot less strongly about L when it comes to dynamics. L can go either way, for me. i don't think he'd really want light up his ass but he'd enjoy the experience of bottoming, and he doesn't mind being on top. even if he's lazy about it unless light's needled him first. and maybe seeing kira fall apart on his cock is ego stroking spank bank material for him too.

there's also the fact that the uke in any yaoi pairing is gonna get woobified and whumped and sexually tormented by fandom at large (which i know a lot of people have feelings about, lmao). between the two of them i much prefer watching light get that treatment than L so i avoid bottom!L content.

obviously everyone is entitled to their opinions and headcanons and thoughts and this just how i see lawlight/dynamics. if anyone comes at me with the word "fetishization" please know i have a block button and free speech. thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[hermitw]

(anime-only friendly post)

Evidence in defense of Suguru Geto - the real villain was Toji's worm.

Banana Fish inspired Jujutsu Kaisen - these parallels aren't important, I'm just making connections bc AFAIK this isn't confirmed, but other sad BL mangas are.

Jessica & Yuki Tsukumo

Dress the same, act the same, do their own thing and come back.

Ash / Eiji & Megumi / Yuuji

Ash & Megumi share a voice actor. They have been thrust into a world that exploits youth from a young age, and this dynamic is normalized by the adults around them. They don't hesitate or fear risking their lives for their friends or their own sense of morality.

They grew up without a mother, having a complicated yet absent father, prone to violence, who in the end made a sacrifice for them. Also their older siblings' similarities.

Eiji & Yuuji are new to this world, innocent, loyal, optimistic compared to those around them.

Yuuji's uniform is a copy of Ash's outfit. Black jacket, red hoodie, red converse (nicer shoes when his uniform came in but still).

Banana Fish (the drug) & Toji's worm

I swear that this worm acts as the drug in Banana Fish, it preys on people's minds making them vulnerable to suggestions, and over time they lose themselves, becoming violent toward others and themselves.

Toji had sliced Geto open with a weapon that was inside of the worm, laced with it, you could say. Geto was unconscious when Toji said "but you, with all your blessed talents, lost to a monkey like me who can't even use jujutsu." that seeped into Geto.

We can tell from JJK0 that Geto took the worm after it crawled up to him. It had already submitted itself, so he would have no reason it absorb the curse. This means that he was spending time with it - the worm could have been crushed and put into his pocket, or even swallowed the way Toji had (no orb, just oroborous worm).

Then there was the conversation with Yuki (which is one reason why I felt like she was planted by Kenjaku, influenced in some way-- and recent interview revealed that Gege was considering Yuki as fake Geto's true identity. I told u all her vibes were off 😤) where she told Geto that he could kill all non-sorcerers. That it could be the easiest solution.

Actually, let's check out the manga page. He looks horrified and shocked that something he said as an off-hand morbid joke to cope with the loss of Haibara and Riko was validated as a real option.

I think that the worm ate away at their minds/souls - from Mahito's antics, it seemed like there was some connection between the soul and the brain. Anyway, I believe that Kenjaku used this curse to lure sorcerers. He would leave it in their path, let it be impressionable to their training, and the worm would eat away at them. This may have assisted in Kenjaku's transfer to a new body, made the process faster, or just caused his victims to devolve so that he could become them.

The worm is a cursed spirit, so naturally it would have fed off of cursed energy, right?

But Toji has no cursed energy. So the spirit could be forced to adapt, though I think that the fear Toji struck into everyone around him could suffice. It seems like Toji fed the worm, and idk the details but Gege has said that Toji found the worm and trained it.

It also seems that Toji lost himself quickly, while Geto held onto himself for much longer.

Toji did not remember his own son's name, which seems like more than just a result of grief over his wife. I know that trauma brain is real, and Toji had been through abuse from the Zenin clan as a child. But it still feels like something more to me. Shiu, who was his friend for 10 years, broke that off. To see Toji only for work, or in hell. Which could imply that's all that Toji was good for. Impossible to connect with as a friend.

Geto had a lot of mental strength, due to raising his family or the rituals he held with affirmations, etc. This might also be due to having cursed energy for the worm to feed off of - though by this time, I'm not sure how much that applied.

I think that Kenjaku was feeding suggestions to Geto by some means (Kenjaku is a master of games and manipulation, planning ahead, etc) in order to break him down, all because he wants the Curse Manipulation technique.

It seems like Geto's true motive was to get Gojo to curse him the way that Yuta had cursed Rika. But by the time that Gojo arrived, Geto already had critical damage by cursed energy, and Gojo cannot heal others with RCT. This is why Geto said you're late.

Geto has spoken about monkeys, about killing, but his actions say otherwise. Even when he does say those things, the way he carries himself changes. It reminds me of Buffy (the vampire slayer)'s mom saying random things due to a brain tumor. She isn't in control, and she doesn't mean it, even though she might insist on something during an episode.

He runs a cult, but it's more like he took over a cult. The same as the village - they were scapegoating young kids, using violence and killing them and gloating in it. He could see that even by removing the victims from there, the cycle would continue, more scapegoats would be found. And they were killing off those who would grow up to be strong, to protect the weak, to guard over them.

Geto's cult was, I think, demonized by Jujutsu Society because it was a powerful group outside of themselves. Mei Mei worked independently from graduating, but she isn't on Geto's level. He lessened their workload, though, by seeking out curses and by letting non-sorcerer victims seek him out for help, even though they had no idea what was going on, they were able to find relief. And he did this without asking for money or anything else in return.

He did break the rule of laying hands on non-sorcerers. (he had to, in order to end the cycle of abuse with Mimiko and Nanako's village, with the cult that killed Riko. They would find another scapegoat if he'd just removed the girls from there). What about that guy he killed?

(sanitizing thoughts here, btw)

This dude is drawn just like the corrupt, greedy capitalist in political cartoons. We don't get details, but we can gather his general character and actions, that he chooses to live in a selfish way that causes harm to many people in a position beneath him.

In JJK0, Geto's people are constantly reminded to not go too far, to just hold them back. I think the exception to this rule was likely to be conservative higher-ups, that Geto was still being protective. Nanako and Mimiko hanged them, I think they were explicitly given permission to. Ijichi was threatened because of the ignorant way he spoke down to them. Obv Ijichi is fine.

What about all of the people Shoko had to heal? She seemed pretty overwhelmed.

They were sorcerers who got hurt by the curses.

Non-sorcerers had already evacuated. If Geto truly hated non-sorcerers and was actually trying to build a world without them - I can't see it. His actions repeatedly protect non-sorcerers (sometimes from oppressive non-sorcerers, which is forbidden, but he still protects them from curses as well).

Gojo said that he can't believe that Geto would start a war he couldn't win, and that it worries him. That it seemed like Geto was bluffing with his number and strength of curses. He even knew exactly how Principal Yaga would react

Calling for help from the clans, from the Ainu Jujutsu Society, who we never hear of again. Geto was getting them to prepare as much as possible.

Why? Why unleash his curses?

And why divide them between Tokyo and Kyoto? He would have won, if his forces were not divided.

Geto was preparing for his own death. He wanted Gojo to curse him the way that Yuuta had cursed Rika, but that meant Geto had to die. And when he dies, the curses he's swallowed would be unleashed (idk if he knew for certain this would happen, or if Toji's caution to not kill Geto for that reason stayed with him. Either way, Geto wasn't going to let that hurt anyone - so the curses that he's absorbed had the best chances at being exorcised with the least amount of casualties, when they were divided between several locations. When the sorcerers had all the time to evacuate the cities, and have a set date to prepare for.

If Geto wanted to hurt anyone, it would have been a surprise attack.

Why was Geto preparing for his own death? We see his mental health break ten years earlier. Despite everything, he held himself together, he had a purpose and a family to care for. Mimiko and Nanako weren't dependent on him- they loved Geto, but they recovered really well. They were so comfortable with themselves, to speak up, to complain, to lounge on the couch with Larue and Miguel. The strain of the worm had enough leverage to drive his actions to drastic places. And he had a story behind them that his family would believe - Geto absorbs Rika, and they can rid the world of curses.

So I think that the worm spirit was used to make Geto more vulnerable. He was distraught, overworked, isolated, but that wasn't enough. He had a strong sense of ethics, I think he had routines that were strong self-care (he spoke with Yuuta about affirmations), and he was not breakable enough for Kenjaku to use.

Also, Utahime said that one of the moles (other than mechamaru) would be a higher-up well above the principal. I wouldn't be surprised if Kenjaku had that connection for decades.

I also think JJK was inspired by Elfen Lied, Kagewani, and maybe Vampire Princess Miyu.

Edit to add: more analysis (and Geto defense), looking at the KFC breakup here - he was misunderstood and did nothing wrong.

[horsetailcurlers2]

Please ramble about Tedstina I’m a total truther lol. Their chemistry was SO intense and palpable from the second Teddy stepped on screen and I agree about them not getting together whilst Teddy was mentoring her but I always thought the Henry plot was a perfect lead in to them developing something long term. Like in my head Cristina dumps Owen after he makes her lie about Henry and in Teddy’s grief and Cristina’s guilt they get closer, eventually sleeping together and then dating. Out of all the couples something about them both being so stubborn but also so clear eyed, ambitious and somewhat cold makes them the most likely to last in my opinion. A little line with Burke but this time they actually know and like each other lmao. And it would definitely be a little twisted since Cristina technically ‘killed’ Henry and then dated his widow but also it’s no darker than other weird romance plots on greys lol. Plus they would’ve been hot as hell 😭

yess you get it. okay but be forewarned this is a true ramble- it may only be vaguely coherent as i’m just going off the cuff.

exactly the chemistry is genuinely insane!!!! the thing about greys that bums me out in the early seasons is that they had an aversion to making any of their main female characters canonically queer. like, i get it, bc getting the callie storyline out there was an uphill battle. but it’s like they want to be explicitly clear all the time that cristina and meredith are both very very Straight. and that’s a whole other thing i could go on about. all this to preface that i think if the show aired now, cristina would be canonically openly queer right out the gate.

by the time teddy came along, it was still pretty early in the owen/cristina and so he hadn’t really done anything yet to make him quite so hate-able. and after hahn there was a big gap left where cristina was sorely lacking in a good mentor. burke was almost a good mentor but then you know they started canoodling and he eventually got frustrating. hahn just straight up refused to teach cristina despite her clear enthusiasm and untapped talent. then teddy comes in and it’s like…. she’s brilliant, she’s not put off by cristina’s cristinaness and she actually seems to be interested in the teaching aspect of working at a teaching hospital (which was fucking rare at that point). so i was immediately drawn to the teddy-cristina dynamic. especially with the complication of owen being the common link.

i could go on a whole other ramble about teddy and the long lasting effects that stemmed from allison’s death and the guilt about that infidelity but suffice to say by the time we meet teddy she’s pretty messed up about love.

and as we know, cristina has a long history of being attracted to mentor figures.

i think that with teddy’s infatuation with owen being shut down on his end pretty early on (despite him doing a total one eighty in the later seasons and claiming to have always loved her 🙄) it opened the door for her to realize WHY she was attracted to him in the first place (a best friend she made in a war zone shortly after the allison tragedy, him already being in a relationship).

SO anyway teddy meets cristina. they’re both in love (?🙄) with owen, they are both passionate about the same specialty, they both have tragedy and failed romance in their pasts.

and i see what you mean about them being very similar. but they are also opposite (and therefore perfectly complimentary) in a lot of ways. i personally think teddy is a lot more optimistic than she appears. she’s not easily discouraged. i also like that right off the bat she recognizes cristina’s talent, takes a liking to her, and is kind of just impervious to cristina’s dislike/wariness of her. i think it’s so funny how almost everyone but meredith is at first really put off by cristina’s bluntness or outright offended by her but teddy is just like “i respect your skill, i’m not gonna take any shit, i know i’m great at my job so let me do it and we’ll be chill”

i think that the conversation about teddy wanting to leave and cristina begging her to stay and yelling that teddy can have owen was a turning point for both of them. i think they both had a lot of revelations.

AND THEN i think the saga of henry’s death was also a major turning point for their relationship. i don’t think this would make their relationship that twisted tbh bc i don’t think teddy ever saw it that way. i think if she blamed anyone other than herself, it was owen (which, yeah bc the way he handled that was fucking bonkers). and i’ve seen a lot of frustrating stuff (mostly on tiktok lol which i have to stay away from bc there’s rarely any nuance on there when it comes to fandom/media discussions) about how teddy repeatedly grilling cristina about henry’s death was the worst thing she ever did and she was punishing cristina or something. but i think that that isn’t true at all in the slightest. it was fucked up and brutal and it was a grief response that was terribly unfair to cristina, but i think it actually showed the two of them being on the same wavelength in a lot of ways. cristina isn’t fazed (at least visibly) by teddy’s need to hear it over and over. bc i think she understood why teddy needed to hear it. they both deal with grief by making it about the facts and about the medicine. teddy needed to know that there is nothing anyone could have done to save him so that she doesn’t feel like she has another death on her hands. and i think cristina gets that because of her backstory with her fathers death. AGAIN i think they just get each other in ways that owen never got either of them.

AND HOW COULD I NOT MENTION THAT TEDDY HAS ACTUALLY SAID “i’m in love with cristina yang”

ANYWAY i personally have this AU idea in my head where they cross paths in europe and reconnect.

[our-trans-punk-experience]

Mohawk anon here, actually it's a lie that I got all my info from Wikipedia, I did some digging before hand and found this article kinda useful https://www.popsugar.com/beauty/mohawk-hairstyle-history-48916724 look idk if u care abt this topic, it was completely stressing me out yesterday in a way I don't think is entirely normal (idk I think I'm starting to treat politics like religion in the way I berate myself as if I have sinned) I know anything more complicated than a yes or no answer on this topic will never be enough to suffice for me I feel like such a bad leftist and a hypocrite, like I'm happy to change myself when I learn my behaviour is wrong bit not for something that actually matters a lot to me, like I care about my hair SO much and I want to keep it SO much bit I don't want to live with guilt over something that may not be an issue or is at the least a very complex one. Have you ever dealt with anything like this and am I a bad person for feeling this way?

Ok hello, first I would like you to take some deep breaths.

[For context anon sent me two asks in a row, the first being an ask over whether mohawks were offensive to wear, in the same tone as above post]

I am not Native American, but I have been around the scene a while and seen a variety of takes on this. I'll open this ask obviously to corrections but from pretty much everything I've ever seen or experienced, no the hairstyle you refer to is not offensive to wear. It's not a closed practice, and tbh the way that punks style it is so different to any sort of traditional cut that the name "mohawk" is the only thing that still ties it to indigenous people.

Obviously exceptions apply if you were say, wearing it as a "costume" to mock native people, but having a 'hawk as a punk has not ever seemed to offend anyone for being any sort of cultural appropriation.

Second point, while I thank you for having the self awareness to realise that you've started to treat political correctness like a religion and that that's not great, I suggest you maybe go further with that and start doing the work to move forward from that?

I get how hard it can be, especially as someone who when growing up would often have their words taken wildly out of context and spun to make me look awful. You feel defensive, you feel like you could be swooped on at any moment for something you didn't even know was wrong. It is awesome you don't want to hurt people, but take some time to self develop so if you ever do accidentally do or say something out of line, you'll be able to fix it and move on without feeling like you're gonna get dammed to hell?

You're not a bad person for having anxious thoughts about fucking up socially. You're not a bad person for wanting to keep a hairstyle you love while worrying it might be appropriation. But try and not define whether you're a bad person on how PC an Internet dude says you are OK? You care, and that's amazing, so keep on growing, and don't ever feel like you're damned for not knowing all the answers.

[stitchlingbelle]

Watching Halo, Episode 3

Welcome to Planet Recycle Hell, which I feel morally obligated to point out is not too darn different from a lot of the factory/ fast fashion/ greenwashing/ recycle grift economy we have now. Call your senators and make a difference, people! Ahem. Makee’s tragic backstory is revealed! I can see how she decided all humans suck, but quite honestly, how she thinks the Covenant is any better is beyond me. ESH, sweetie. Of course, I’ve seen the ship tag, I know things are going to get Complicated for her as soon as she leaves the bubble, so we’ll see…

More plotting by General Parangosky, trying and I’m sure failing to contain Halsey, as usual. I can’t really blame her for trying, but I extremely question her motives. Here’s hoping Miranda can do some good, I really like her (and would ADORE her getting to show up her mom.) (Meanwhile, am I the only one who thinks these uniforms have Royal Manticoran Navy vibes? They also remind me of the Army of Light from Babylon 5, but while the black color scheme there was meant to subvert expectations, I don’t think these are. Or that the UNSC are good guys to begin with.)

Halsey wakes the person in the pod and oh my God, there’s TWO of them now? I say, as I fall deeply, endlessly in love with Halsey’s clone. God, it’s nice to see someone call Halsey on her bs and clearly hold her own in their battle of wits (if not outright win, the way Halsey backs away from some of her questions.) I hope she sticks around, but the dialogue implies she knows she’s here to die.

Aaand here it comes. God, Halsey’s grooming of John is just endlessly creepy. Someone on the writing staff around here understands what grooming and abuse actually look like. And her goon (Adun?) shows a bit of personality at last by… almost kissing a woman he’s about to kill while she’s immobilized. Fuck this guy. I do think it’s fascinating that the clone doesn’t resist—even as the one on the chopping block, she seems dedicated to her/ Halsey’s goals, enough to die for them. That’s frankly terrifying. And die she does, in a scene that is in turns poignant (“Will it hurt?”), sickening (through her EYE?), and ridiculous (a convenient acid bath, seriously?).

And at last we meet Cortana! Immediately it’s clear she isn’t JUST a mind-clone of Halsey, which is interesting. You’d think Halsey would want Cortana to have her own personality (and possibly memories) to better control her; quite frankly without them I’m not sure what the clone had to die for, other than Hollywood handwavy Evil. If you have computers this advanced a scan would probably suffice, it's not like you put her brain in a jar. But movie logic is movie logic. On the upside, Cortana has a lot more room to grow on her own being based on Siri or whatever. And she’s going to need to grow, she doesn’t yet understand why anyone would have a problem with her and her bullheaded approach is going to be an issue as she tries to bond with the Master Chief. (In the meantime, their sniping is entertaining for us, the audience.)

Makee is kicking off her mission, pretending to be an escapee in nice clothes and flawless makeup with not a mark on her. I am deeply unconvinced. So are the UNSC crewers, which doesn’t save any of them, in a scene that is pure gross horror. (Obligatory Honor Harrington joke: “She shot stabbed him… with her finger.”) Can’t say I think much of her planning here; these people don’t know you call the Master Chief “the Demon” or that some random artifact is “The Keystone”. Ask clearer questions! You probably wouldn’t get any farther, but at least it would make sense. Also, keeping someone alive to unlock the secure tech for you would also be smart. (I should probably stop trying to make villains smarter…)

John’s trying to figure out the artifact-slash-himself, gathering more clues, etc. It doesn’t respond to Cortana, only him, which is interesting. After it’s back to the barracks, where apparently no one prepped the team for Cortana? Like, seriously? You didn’t brief them, sell her as an intelligence and operations upgrade? Getting the rest of the team excited about the possibilities might have helped with John’s acceptance. Instead, Cortana just pops up and John shuts her down. I almost feel bad for her in this scene, she honestly has no idea why she’s not being welcomed with open arms. (At the end of the scene I just wrote “Kai for President”. No idea why, just on general principle, I suppose.) Unaddressed: Is Cortana unique to John, or will they all have a copy? Or is there going to be a unique AI for each of them? If they’re worried about one Spartan going rogue, they have to worry about them all…

Kwan and Soren et al are back pretty briefly in this episode, just to establish that Kwan’s found her purpose in life: bringing down this Vinsher guy and finishing what her dad started. Not sure Chief would be thrilled (the UNSC definitely won’t) and I’m still convinced she and Soren are going to die. I’m no longer suspicious of Laera, and dang, her actress’s delivery of “The universe will be diminished without you in it” was FANTASTIC. Compliment, mourning, condemnation, and a little bit of a threat all in one. (Also, ‘deuterium money’. I love Scifi.)

Ah, this must be where all the “Master Cheeks” jokes are from. I, too, get naked when I plan to stab myself in the ass. (I kid, it’s actually more practical than getting blood all over your clothes. Less hydrogen peroxide needed!) KAI! Watches from the shadows. Is she gonna report him? How are the other Spartans going to react when she tells them? Again, I said her being smart could go either way…

John wanders through the city having Feelings and a Barbie movie moment of human connection, complete with space music! I live for this stuff. Gimme all the futuristic worldbuilding you want, I’ll eat it up. I love the electronic instruments, the little concert space, all very cool. (Sidenote: one of the transit stops is called ‘Manassas’? Yikes.) Is this the first time John’s been out here? Is he not supposed to be out or did they just suppress the desire to leave? What do the Spartans do with their free time? More visions, and I feel the UNSC is going to eventually regret giving this man a top-level hacker at his beck and call. Cortana slipping into chirpy promo voice as she recites the Reach for Life info was funny.

Reach for Life project, Reach the planet, Reach City. I’m gonna go ahead and guess “reach” is a bit of an Arc Word/ Concept. Reaching for the stars? Or something else?

Off they go to Eridanus, with Halsey and her creepy goon in tow, while Miranda is left behind with a window of opportunity. I have a bad feeling about this.

[highwaytothedangerzone502]

Foxtrot Alpha Alpha - Chapter 10

Pairing: Hangman x Female OC

Word Count: 1973

Warnings: Discussion of bad home life, pregnancy complication

Summary: Hangman learned his lesson a long time ago to never show his true feelings when someone's words or actions hurt him. To do so showed weakness that could be exploited, and Seresin men couldn't show weakness. Of course, there was an exception to every rule, and Jake's always came in the form of women, three in particular: his mom, Juliette Kazansky, and the girl whose name he could no longer bring himself to speak. She was the girl that got away; she was his biggest 'what if' and his biggest regret; she would forever be the ghost that haunted his dreams. Jake believed that's where she'd stay, for he would surely never see her again after what he did.

Or so he thought.

Notes: This is the sequel to India Lima Yankee; I'm using the same callsign for the Female OC as in Ghost Story because I just really like it, but they are different characters; chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: Closure Low

****

Hangman

Where had they gone so wrong? Jake had only one idea, but if that was the case, then he had no hope of ever formulating an apology that could suffice to make up for it. Besides, Annalise seemed perfectly content to act like he didn't exist, now or in the past and future. The behavior threatened to shatter him, but he was Jake Seresin, and Seresin men didn't break. So he sucked it up, pretended to be absolutely fine, and kept his aviators on so no one could see the pain in his eyes.

He did stay uncharacteristically quiet, so much so that he received a text from Juliette stating: You're quiet. You okay?

He sent a quick one back that said he was, but judging by her expression reading it, she didn't wholly believe him. Juliette relented for now, but Hangman kept an eye on her. Even underneath her makeup, she appeared pale. Rooster must've noticed, too, because he continually looked over at her even when she wasn't speaking. It prompted him to text Juliette almost the same question: You okay?

I'm really hot, and I have a stupid migraine. That's all.

Been getting those a lot?

Yes... I'm heading to the doctor's tomorrow. Be on standby in case it ends up being bad, and I need someone to help me calm him down.

Jake smothered a snort by clearing his throat. Not sure I have a calming effect on Bradshaw. Ghost or Phoenix might be a better option there, but I can be there to support you if you need it.

Thank you :)

Hangman shoved his phone back into his pocket. Rooster mumbled a question to Juliette, who whispered the answer in his ear and placed a comforting hand on his thigh. He covered it with his own, lacing their fingers together. Jake's gaze involuntarily shifted to Ghost, who sat next to Juliette. He ached to reach for her hand, to whisk her away and talk everything out until they were back on more than just speaking terms. He wanted to go back to the way they were before with the inside jokes, the time spent together, and their own personal, secret way of saying "I love you."

Ghost excused herself to go to the bathroom, and it took all of Hangman's willpower not to lie and say he needed it to, just to go confront her again, ask what he could do to make her forgive him, but he didn't. However, his buzzing phone and the surprising name flashing on the screen forced him to get up and head inside for privacy. Reluctantly, Hangman answered the call with a gruff "Hey."

Matt Seresin's tired voice replied, "Hey, can you talk?"

"I wouldn't have answered if I couldn't, but do I want to? No."

"I know you don't, but Dad told me he called you last week."

"Yeah. What about it?"

"What did he tell you?"

"Uh, nothing, really. He was asking how I was doing and if I was coming home to visit any time soon, which was really weird, come to think of it."

Matt sighed. "He's not doing well, Jake. Dad had a massive heart attack two weeks ago, and he's in kidney failure. Doctors are trying to save him, but in the event they can't... I'm just saying now might be the time to come see him and maybe say your goodbyes."

"Dad hasn't called me since I joined the Navy. He never even came to my graduation. Dad wants nothing to do with me, and I want nothing to do with him. Besides, he could've asked me to visit when he called me last week, and he didn't, so no. I'm not coming down. If that's all you had to say-"

"There's more," Matt interrupted. "I caught Nick embezzling funds from the company. I alerted the cops, and he's on the lam. I know you two were never close, but-"

"I was never close with either of you," Jake snapped more harshly than he intended. Reining in his temper, he said more calmly, "But if I see him, trust me, I'll call the cops on him and will let you know."

"Thank you, but be wary, Jake. Nick's armed, and he was always the most volatile. He has Dad's temper. I'm worried about what he might be capable of, and soon, you might be the only family I have left."

"Don't tell me you want to try and make amends now?"

"It's late in the game, but you and I have talked more since you left than you have to Nick and Dad combined. I'd like to think there's some hope for us, man. Besides, I'd like you to meet your niece one day. Sophie asks about you whenever she sees pictures of us from when we were kids, and she always loves the gifts you send her for holidays and her birthday. Don't make her pay for the sins of her father."

Jake sighed, leaning against the bar. He hated how his brother made a point. "I'll look at my schedule, see what I can swing, but only to visit her. I'm not seeing Dad. Maybe you can come here too. Disney isn't far from here; I think Sophie would like that."

"We've already been looking. I didn't think it wise to tell you until I was sure you wouldn't mind us coming to visit. Hey, uh, on a different note, I saw Coyote's post that Annalise was in town. You two talking again?"

Jake scoffed. "Pretty sure she'd rather talk to a wall than to me."

"I'm going to take that as a no. I'm sorry, man. I know how much she meant to you."

"Yeah, well, I caused the accident, so I don't blame her. Did you know she dated Kyle?"

"Yeah. It was only a few dates, but she dumped him, thank God. From what I've heard, he hasn't taken it too well. I swear that guy has a screw loose and will become unhinged sooner or later. Tell her to be careful and watch out. If he and Nick pair up-"

Jake pinched the bridge of his nose. "Ghost might be in danger."

"Why am I in danger?" Annalise queried, causing Jake to whirl around. He'd completely forgotten she'd gone to the bathroom.

"Is that her?" his brother asked, bringing Jake back to the conversation, but his gaze never left Ghost's.

"Yeah. I gotta go. Talk to you later, Matt." Hangman hung up his phone and fiddled with it.

"So? Why am I in danger?" Ghost repeated, maneuvering behind the counter and grabbing a glass of water.

Hangman sighed, unsure of how she'd react to the news. "Long story short, Matt's worried Kyle will become unhinged and that you'll be in danger if that's the case, especially if he pairs up with Nick, who's currently on the lam. He wanted me to tell you to be careful and watch out."

Puzzlement etched itself onto her face. "Why is Nick on the lam?"

"Matt reported him to the cops because he caught him embezzling funds from the company."

"Oh, shit," Ghost breathed. "When did that happen?"

"Not sure, just that it's recent." An awkward silence fell over them. Jake pondered what he should do or say, knowing the things he desired to do or say would do nothing to help the situation, that they'd most likely earn him a slap from Ghost more than anything.

"I'm sorry," she said genuinely sympathetically, which took him aback. He hadn't heard her use such a tone with him since before they'd parted ways. He never thought he'd hear it again.

He offered her a small smile. "Thanks. Certainly not the call I was expecting from him. Between Nick and Dad-"

"What's going on with your dad?"

"Nothing. Not going to burden you with that whole thing."

"Burdens aren't meant to be carried alone."

For some unfathomable reason, her words ignited an anger in him. How dare she pretend to care for him when she'd treated him like shit since she'd arrived? Stoically, he replied, "You're right; it's meant to be shared with someone who cares for me, but that's not you. Not anymore. You've made that explicitly clear since you arrived here."

Before she could respond, he turned on his heel and walked out. Jake realized by the time he set foot onto the sand that he'd taken his anger over his family situation out on her, which had been the last thing he should've done. If he had even the slimmest of chances of reconciling with Ghost, he'd probably lost it in that very moment. However, he didn't have long to mull over that because Juliette's panicked voice saying "Bradley" caught his attention. His eyes barely fell on her before she slumped forward. Rooster caught his fiancée before her face smashed into the table.

"Jules?!" Rooster exclaimed, cupping her face and turning it toward his. "Jules!"

Hangman froze at the sight, a flood of memories crashing over him. Ghost rushed past him, barking orders. "Get her on the ground and lay her on her back. Coyote, grab an umbrella and get her shaded. Phoenix, prop her legs up twelve inches. Rooster, keep her head and neck still. Mav, can you check her pulse?"

Maverick did as ordered, staying silent momentarily before confirming it was there and steady if not a little fast. Ghost nodded, checking the time on her phone. "If she doesn't wake up in a minute, we need to call emergency services."

"Already have the number dialed. Let me know when to hit call," Penny said, kneeling beside Mav. Hangman sank to his knees next to Ghost, casually placing his fingers on Juliette's wrist to check the pulse himself. As Maverick said, it beat steadily and swiftly. Meanwhile, the rest of the Daggers crowded around, blocking the view from passersby and staring worriedly at the friend.

Near the forty-second mark, Juliette's eyes fluttered open, and a small groan escaped her lips. Ghost placed a gentle but firm hand on her friend's shoulder and said, "Hey, you're okay. You passed out. I need you to stay still for a bit, okay? Can you tell me your name?"

Juliette stated her name weakly, then added, "Surname is Kazansky, but it'll... it'll be Bradshaw soon."

Rooster chuckled and said shakily, "Yes. Yes, it will be."

Ghost smiled. "And we can't wait to see you two get married. What's your fiancé's name?"

"Bradley," Jules answered. "Callsign Rooster."

"Very good. And you know where you're at?"

"On the ground."

"Well, you're not wrong. I'll let that answer slide. Last question: when's your birthday?"

"February 2."

"All right, you seem pretty coherent. That's a good sign," Ghost said, sighing in relief. "Jules, you need to stay lying down for a bit, okay? We don't want to move you too soon, but once we can, I think the best course of action is to get you to a hospital."

"Bob, can you bring my Bronco over here?" Rooster requested, tossing his keys to the WSO, who deftly caught them. "Mav and Ghost, can you come with me?"

"Of course," Maverick and Ghost said immediately. The former's face was a deathly shade of white as he held Juliette's hand. 

Ghost's head turned to Hangman. "Jake, you want to come too?"

Her question took him aback, but he managed to reply, "No, no, I'll, uh, I'll get Raptor and Lightning back to the house and watch over them until y'all get back."

"Here," Rooster said, handing the house key over. Hangman took it and swallowed the rising fear in his chest. Of course he wanted to go to the hospital with Juliette, but at the idea, he quickly reminded himself: I'll be the death of her if I do.

****

Tags: @lgg5989 @shanimallina87 @polikszena @summ3rlotus @icemansgirl1999 @supernaturaldawning @thedarkinmansfield @lyannaforpresident @lapilark @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @simpofthecentury @shadeops21 @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @double-j @bradshawsandbridgetons @catsandgeekyandnerd @peachiicherries @multifandomcnova @fandomsstolemylife00 @bookloverhorses @mak-32 @midnightmagpiemama @luckyladycreator2 @ellamae021 @genius2050

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[corndoggod]

I’ve tried to write about my Dad a thousand times. But I was never able to finish any of those stories. Both of us had trouble seeing things through to completion. I thought that perhaps I could finally finish one of these essays about him whenever he passed, because they weren’t necessarily flattering, but they were honest. They were about our messy relationship, which only grew more complicated with age. I have a lot to say about that, and maybe I’ll finally write those essays, but it’ll suffice to say I felt ashamed of my Dad more than I’d like, and felt terribly guilty for feeling shameful, and that lovely pairing eventually hardened into feelings of resentment, often blinding me from his best aspects.

Of course I loved him too. How could I not? He was my Dad and, as with his comedy, even though he wasn’t the best, he never stopped trying.

And I knew how much he loved me. He loved me so much. I don’t know anyone with a bigger heart. Me and Ethan were his pride and joy and he made sure we knew it every chance he could. He was an amazing father in that way.

Our relationship grew more complicated with age, but it became really simple last May when he had a life-changing stroke and then again this Sunday when he had a life-ending stroke. At the end of the day, he was my Dad and I was his son, and there was nothing but love between us. Nothing to do but hold his hand and stroke his head and update him on the latest March Madness games and betting odds. I tried to say something profound to him on his deathbed, but all I really wanted to do was talk about the shit we usually talked about: the NBA, my bowling league, what we’ve been reading, his latest book idea for me or himself.

That simplicity didn’t last long, because he’s gone now and I’ve been doing a lot of thinking this week. A lot of rethinking actually, and I’ve started to see how much I underestimated my Dad. I worried about my Dad constantly for most of my adult life. I worried for his happiness, but have you ever met a firmer optimist? My Dad had a lot of tough breaks, but he never felt sorry for himself, never became bitter with the world.

I worried about his loneliness, but just look at all of you here today - what a warm crowd. And I want to give a special thanks to Lisa, RJ, Mike, Anita and Joe. You guys showed up for my Dad when me and my brother couldn’t, and you kept showing up when he probably would’ve driven the two of us crazy.

I worried about his health and, well, I was right to worry about his health. The man was crumbling before our eyes and could hardly see with his own. The first time he met Celina we had barely sat down for lunch when, much to my horror, he told us the doctor said they might have to carve out his eye and he wanted to know how we thought he’d look in an eye patch.

I worried for his quality of life. I could never square his unwavering good nature with his life circumstances. It’s become increasingly clear my Dad didn’t measure life the same way I do, but I’m beginning to see his wisdom. It’s a wisdom rooted in the heart, and that wisdom says: friends and family come first, and that includes dogs. It says never presume and live with humility - you never know what the person next to you has gone through and laughing at yourself brightens any moment. It says laughing and crying are powerful medicines.

But I never once worried that my Dad didn’t believe in me. He believed in me with all his heart, no matter the task. He believed I could write for The New Yorker. He believed I could qualify for the Boston Marathon. And I took that for granted, and I wish I thanked him more.

I think we all fear becoming like our parents. I know I did and I tried, consciously or not, to be different or better than my Dad. But I can see now how the qualities he gifted me are fundamental to my being. There’s my love of reading of course. We both slept with books in bed. My ambitions to write. My aversion to driving. My affinity for sports and, a parting gift, my budding obsession with sports gambling.

Moving forward I want to lean into his wisdom, confident that my life will be enriched because of it.

I couldn’t find these words Sunday night, but I hope they find you now, Dad. I want you to know how proud I am to be your son and how proud I am of you. Thank you for teaching me, in your gentle way, what matters most in life: friends, family, laughter, books and dogs.

[binarystargames]

Valiant Horizon post-itchfund-launch devlog #1: Diceless, Roll for Magnitude, and Roll for Success

This post is about the various mechanical choices made in Valiant Horizon at a very high level. I group these into three categories: Diceless mechanics (stuff that works), Roll for Magnitude mechanics (stuff that works but you roll to see how much), and Roll for Success mechanics (stuff that works if a roll goes your way).

Diceless

The simplest kind of mechanic. This is what Assets, Exhausting Assets, and Burdens are:

You take an action and it works.

If you didn't expend a resource, you add or amplify a complication on that action.

The complications here are Burdens.

The resources here are Assets or Determination (which can either restore the use of an Asset or negate a Burden).

You can also reduce your access to a resource to achieve a larger effect.

This is Exhausting Assets.

The vibe I wanted to achieve wasn't "do you solve problems, overcome obstacles, etc." so much as "how do you do it". We are going to assume, generally, that the protagonists will get to the other side of whatever problem they encounter. The question then becomes: how do they win? What do they prioritize with asset use? What are they willing to let fall by the wayside or go imperfectly to get there? What resources are they willing to pull from the combat side to make it work? Are they willing to overextend themselves to achieve a victory? It becomes a question of resource management and long-term risk rather than short-term probability-based risk.

It's also a matter of spotlight management and diversity of outcomes. If your Windmagus knows they only get one use of wind magic per session, they know they can't solve every problem with that. But maybe they have something in their background that will suffice, or there's a good chance someone else will have something else too that might work. Or if they think whipping up a tornado will solve the problem better, they won't have easy access to their wind magic in the future, but it might be worth it. (Given that the penalty for Exhausting Assets is reset when you gain a level, this also encourages players to go a little more nuts with it near the end of a level - which should probably be something somewhat climactic anyway, so good!)

This is not how it's going to work in every Total//Effect game. Liminal Void, for instance, has more traditional "skill" rolls with Assets being granted by skills or by tools, granting things like advantage or stepping up numerical outputs. Get you a system that does both!

Roll for Magnitude

Now, this isn't to say it's a diceless game! Far from it. You roll a lot in Valiant Horizon. But usually you're rolling for magnitude and not success.

Generally I like the idea of failure-less combat. I'm sure plenty of people love the tension of whiffing attack after attack but it's not my bag in almost any circumstance. I'm fully on board with removing roll-to-hit. One criticism I have of purely diceless systems, though, is that they can lead to very predictable situations, especially when diceless abilities are tied to set effects/powers. (It's what spawned my quarterbacking posts.) Now, of course a GM/Narrator/facilitator/etc can always introduce new things to the scene to spice things up - that's why there's a "the GM does something cool" thing in LUMEN, for example, and why I kept that rule in APOCALYPSE FRAME. But that's already an intensive role, and requiring them to keep things interesting is sometimes a big ask.

As a middle ground, combat in Total//Effect still involves rolls for variable effect for set powers. They all get better at higher Totals (3 dice added), and most of them key something off of Effects (individual die values). This means that something always happens, no matter the roll value - depending on the ability, it may be extremely small, but it's something. Correspondingly, even pretty middling abilities (like basic enemy abilities) can sometimes spike up hard on triple 6's! (This happened literally the first Total//Effect session I ever ran. Incredible moment.)

If you're wondering what probabilities look like for it, I wrote a big piece on it here. Back in October, so parts of it are outdated! I can hardly believe it's been going this long. The math's still good though.

This is also used for Fame rolls for Reputation: Fame decays by a die roll at semi-regular intervals. (This is actually an off-shoot of two separate Total//Effect systems that are in play in Liminal Void, Rolls for Progress and Threats, which are Good Clock and Bad Clock respectively. Having something that conditionally ticks up but at a non-constant rate adds another level of tension to an already tense thing!)

Roll for Success

There is exactly one thing that can still fail on account of a roll: Calling for Aid from Relationships. The tension I want in Valiant Horizon shouldn't come from "does my cool combat stuff work" or "does the cool thing that my hero gave me". It comes from "can I rely on my friends". This is partially because it's a huge benefit! It's a 1/session/relationship thing where you can tag someone in out of turn and outside the action economy (if it goes well). But it's partially because I want that tension: do you, does your character, think they can reliably call on their friends for help?

At low levels of relationship, the answer is...sometimes, but not really. At higher levels, you've gotten a better understanding of how to ask: you can reliably ask for lesser things, but grander things are still dodgy. And at the highest level, you can always rely on them: it'll never fail as such. (Sometimes you'll get a mixed result still.)

---

Dice, rolling, and such are tools in the toolbox. Knowing when you want to use them, how you want to use them, and why goes a long way.

Next devlog, I’ll get into the various classes and start showing off more of the incredible art Charlotte made!

[lonita]

Hey, ableds. Leave those PWD alone.

It's Disability Pride Month. I was wondering what to say about it, or even if I'd say anything at all. But yesterday a straw broke my camel's back - so here we are.

There are a lot of people on provincial disability support programs in Canada. That support is woefully inadequate, leaving recipients between 40 and 50% below the poverty line. No one lives in poverty because they want to. The complexities of poverty are many, and more than I can conveniently cover herein. Suffice it to say, it's not the simple black and white situation that many think it is. Nor is it a simple to solve solution. Throwing disability into the mix complicates the situation exponentially in ways that abled people cannot comprehend, and most of the time don't even try to.

For many disabled people, online spaces are their only community. Because of proximity, finances, accessibility, and more. So, this is where they congregate. This is where they share their experiences, spread awareness, seek support, look for aid, or just shoot their message into the void to see what happens as so many people online do.

But you know how people are.

The agility that the slavering bully displays in leaping on the opportunity to deride a disabled person on assistance is mindblowing. They do it so wantonly, so willingly. As if they think they're the first person in the world to tell someone on assistance that they're a bum, that they're lazy, that they're scammers, that they can do better if they really wanted to, that it's easy to find work, that they're worthless, that people are sick of giving them "handouts", that they're just self-pitying, that they're just weak, that they should just die.

The increase of it does nothing more than to give even more people more license to abuse even more people, to kick even more struggling people when they're already down. Somewhere they got the idea that they think they have a right to abuse others.

The biggest stumbling block in understanding is that an abled person thinks in terms of ability. They don't have to think about navigating life the way that many disabled people do. They think their simple solutions are solutions that will work for everyone. Or that a solution that works for one disability will work for every other. Even some disabled people think that way. They think if they can succeed, that everyone can. It's not true, of course. It's not possible. That aside, the utter lack of empathy on top of the utter lack of practical understanding, is astounding.

Needs of accessibility, accommodation, transit, preparation, training, education, and personal needs, are a far different thing for many disabled people than they are for the average abled person. In the digital age, some of this is easier to manage. But when I was in school there were no personal computers or internet. I couldn't read the chalkboards in my grade or high school classrooms. We did work out some accommodations, but sometimes those things isolate a person. Flexibility is another one. Some conditions don't allow for a person to work a reguarl 9-5 job - and there's precious little flexibility provided in the average workplace, if any at all, and not nearly enough availability for gig work or task work that would suit an unpredictable condition. Lots of disabled people could work, want to work, but there's no work for them. Disabled people don't live a life of being able to just go out the door each day and do whatever they want whenever they want to.

To sum it up. If you see a person talking about inadequate supports, and your first urge is to crap on them, don't. Just don't. They've heard it before, a million times. You aren't the first, and won't be the last. But you don't have to contribute to a harmful noise that does nothing but hurt people. You don't need to be a bully, to be cruel. If you're angry, talk to the people who make laws. Not the people who might be eating one bad meal a day from the food bank.

[themeaningofitall]

02/19/2023

Today was a lovely day. After two weeks of less than desirable weather, I woke up to warm temperatures, calm winds, plenty of sunlight, and no immediate responsibilities to take care of. I began the day with a cup of tea and some poetry before breakfast, and planned nothing but “productive leisure” for the rest of the day. I had a pleasant lunch with my mom and now I’ve retreated to the comforts of my room. With nothing else planned for the last few hours before bed, I’d like to take a few minutes and talk about how things have been going lately.

Thanks to the weather I’ve spent quite a lot of time indoors, which for the most part translates to a lot of reading and a constant struggle against the allures of online shopping. Thankfully, I’ve been able to limit myself to a healthy order of books, some scented candles, and several boxes of tea. Originally, when I learned I’d have so much free time on my hands, I planned to reserve most of it for my writing. However, I’ve been suffering from the worst case of writer’s block I’ve had in a good minute. So instead I’ve been looking for other ways of staying productive. Perhaps most surprisingly, I picked up my guitar again. It’s been a long while since I’ve even practiced, and I honestly don’t know why I stopped. Other than that, I’ve been spending more time in the gym, studying, and listening to new music. Most importantly, I’ve been dedicating a lot of time and effort towards clearly defining my creative goals or projects, and creating a detailed plan for getting them done. This has really been more time consuming rather than complicated. My goals are really only two and very simple ones. The first is to write and the second is to travel. For this I think it really boils down to having two things and those are time and money. Therefore, I’ve set aside the first year as a “preparatory” year during which I can save everything I need, and the second year as the year to travel without much worry and enjoy the fruits of the first year. I’ll refrain from saying more for now, but suffice it to say that I am beyond excited to begin this next chapter of my life.

Lastly, I’d like to wish you all the best and remind you that you are a part of this world, and that you can make this world better just by taking care of yourself. Good night.