#not to be too vulnerable but I've been having a low period for the last month despite non stop drawing

[aha-my-villainous-thoughts]

Just wanted to tell you how much I love your art style! I just discovered your red carpet AU and I'm in love with it! You captured Ed and Stede so well and their outfits are amazing and so them! Also I absolutely adore the way you draw Ed's tattoos, even more so when in white on a greyscale drawing, it gives them a gorgeous neon quality. Your color work is stunning!

Aww thank you so much!! So glad my red carpet co-captain AU connected with you, I have so many pieces for that met gala AU and I really should finish them all so I can publish the whole thing! Thank you about the neon tattoos too, I absolutely love adding the bright edges and playing with light and colour, I really appreciate hearing that you enjoy it so much!

Your words are deeply appreciated, thank you!

💖💜💙💚💛🧡❤️💖

[pandorascripts]

Familiar thy by side part 2!!! 🙌 🥺

a/n: welpppp i supposeeeee (this was sitting in my drafts for a while and I forgot it was done). sorry for the inconsistency everyone, I've been busy busy busy with competitions for my clubs and I my term two ended just last week. Can't promise a better upload schedule until schools out :(

pairing: agatha/rio/reader

NOTE: this is set in salem time periods, they will speak as such. too lazy to actually check for spelling errors, so apologies!

The next time you’re able to remember current events, you’re laid down on a dock, in nothing but your wet undergarments. With a loud gasp, you shoot up, chest rapidly rising and falling. Everything is overwhelming, the noise of the lake, the splashing and laughter, the bristle of trees’ leaves, the creaking of the dock — too much, everything is too much. You can’t recognize anything, your whereabouts completely unknown as the cold sinks into your achy bones and shaky fingers. 

Finally, you see someone just barely familiar. Nicholas, laughing and splashing his Mother just twenty feet off to your side in the shallow waters. With a hard breath, you look around and try to focus on regaining your senses. Previously dirty skin is shining clean again, your hands brushing over it in confusion. Agatha… had bathed you? The thought of being unconscious and vulnerable makes your spine shiver, gaze hardening at Agatha. The moment you fully look at her — really recognize her, you have such a hard time hating her. The smile plastered on her raw face, laughter so hard she’s forced to wheeze and turn her back from her boy — she looks human to you for the first time in… well, however long you’ve been with them. 

Nicky is the first to notice you, his smile still wide as he waves to you. Agatha snaps her head to your direction, icy blue eyes running along your posture for a good read. There’s a subconscious relent in Agatha when she realizes how scared you are right now. There’s so much familiarity in that showcase of fear for her, that she’s slightly taken aback by the memories of nights when she was younger and afraid. A low growl dies down into a clearing of her throat, Agatha turning away. 

“Nicholas, you’ll get frozen if we’re here any longer,” she states, but Nicky knows it’s a demand. 

He pouts but doesn’t argue with his mom, waddling out of the water that Agatha easily cruises through. Her outfit matches yours — nothing but undergarments, and it’s clear that they had been playing in the water for quite some time. A weird thought festers in your mind, happy that despite being apathetic to everything, Agatha knows that her son is but a boy and deserves to have fun. 

By the time Agatha and Nicholas are fully dressed in their slightly damp clothes — ones you haven’t seen before, so you realize they must’ve been stolen during your lights-out phase – the embarrassment settles in. You feel even more vulnerable now, the only one absolutely indecent enough for viewing. Agatha lets Nicholas head back to their makeshift camp just some odd feet out, her journey steering to open a medium-sized leather pouch, and take out some clothes. Silently, Agatha walks down the doc to toss them in your lap. 

“What did you do to me?” is the first thing that comes out of your mouth — more so questioning how she managed to subdue you so easily. 

“Bathed you. Nothing more nothing less.” 

The sharpness of her tone makes you realize she believes you to be questioning something else — a small flinch on your face. 

“Not that, that I understand well. The time — I was awake, we were fighting, and then…” 

“Then I came to the smart conclusion you were too shambled to make such a journey and made it so you did not kill Nicky, nor I,” she answers, still on the defensive. 

You don’t argue back with her. Neither do you even try to dry off with anything, immediately trying to put on your clothes. 

“Wait.”

You stop at her words, convinced it was her magick rather than your obedience. “What?” 

Agatha walks off the dock, leaving you confused on whether or not you should continue. She turns her back to you again a couple seconds later, heading down the platform before tossing you a damp rag. 

“To dry. These clothes will be yours next few days, nothing wet against your skin will be comfortable enough for our journey. We leave tonight again.” 

You wet your lips, holding the rag before looking up at Agatha. Seeing her this close, it’s no wonder she was able to lure in many with a beguiling feeling of comfort. Agatha is motherly in many of her actions, even when she’s killing witches, surprisingly enough. Motherly or not completely monstrously, you’re not sure. 

“Thank you, Agatha,” you say softly, her name foreign on your tongue. 

“Make haste, the sun will set in a few hours time.” 

A simple nod from you has Agatha walking over to her son, your hands working to dry off your body with the rag. It’s slightly rugged, a little ripped and the edges are frayed. Although, you can’t be too picky, you suppose. Agatha almost gave you nothing. You’re not sure why she didn’t, why she let you dry off. It truly wouldn’t have been that uncomfortable for you, walking all that distance would’ve heated your body up and in turn the clothes would’ve probably helped cool you down. You turn around on the dock to run the rag over your chest, Agatha’s mean eyes running along your back. 

In her own mind, Agatha is beating herself up over giving you that rag. Why did she care if you were comfortable? If anything, Agatha only wants you to be uncomfortable around her — to be scared around her. It’s much easier that way, for you to be terrorized into obedience. She’s not sure, but maybe after being in your mind during the week in Salem she saw one too many correlations between you and Her. Agatha clenches her jaw, refusing to believe that after six years clean she’s genuinely letting herself feel the things she long ago buried about Rio. The name sends shivers down her spine, eyes running to find her boy. He’s nestled against a tree, fixing his hair into a braid. The facial expression she finds on him is way too similar to Rio — mouth open in concentration, nose tilted up. Agatha comes to the realization that she can never get away from the sound of the woman that loves her, and it haunts her. Rio’s voice in the mornings, her small touch throughout the day, the sweet laugh she let out at Agatha’s off-colored jokes – everything that was and is Rio stays within Agatha. Her eyes fall down to her hands, balling them up tightly before she lets go of them with a sigh. 

You walk down the dock, fully dressed and mainly dry. Wet against your neck is your hair, but you simply scrunch it up and keep it behind your shoulders. Agatha is moving Nicky up, sitting behind him as she starts softly speaking to him and doing his hair for him. The braid wasn’t the best, so Agatha simply undoes it and starts over. He doesn’t seme to mind, lost in the conversation as he drags a stick through the dirt to spell out his name. The scene is a little too vulnerable and familial for you to want to engage in, even if you’re more calm than when you first woke. There’s some slight gratitude you feel for Agatha, considering that she didn’t completely undress you when bathing you. Despite the slight awkward dampness of the materials against your skin, it’s something to be thankful for. 

You’re too caught up in trying to figure out everything that happened – stubbornly refusing to ask Agatha – that you don’t notice her sit next to you. Of course, there’s still a couple feet of distance from the two of you, but you’re unsure why she wouldn’t sit by Nicholas. Until you realize he’s not here. 

“Where is the boy?” you ask, your body more unsettled without him. This makes no sense, and you know it, but you swear Agatha is almost human around him. Despite that she’s killed in front of the boy, openly explained that she kills witches to him, and still speaks down to you around him – it just feels safer when he’s around. 

“Off to harvest some berries past that brush,” she replies, and you’re almost surprised she actually does. 

You just stay quiet, a slight nod of your head as your eyes lock on the fire. 

“Salem was just fine, in case you were wondering,” mumbles Agatha, sniffling after as if to cover up everything she just said. 

“Have they still been killling witches?” 

There’s a small laugh from Agatha, her head shaking slightly. “Oh, please, we were much too clever to be killed during then. Those women were married to the worst of the worst, and killed simply so their husband could marry younger or justify his continuous infidelity.” 

“We?” you ask, head turning to stare at Agatha. You weren’t aware that she was living in Salem during those times, but then again, you’re not sure how old Agatha actually is. “Yes, we. Womanhood came to me after spending my youth in that town. I left soon after.” Agatha’s tone at the end, her licking her lips and turning her head too, tells you that there’s something there – a story, no doubt, but you don’t question. 

“Must have been quite fearful, I’d imagine.” 

“They couldn’t catch us, dear, only a few were ever caught.” 

The fire is crackling, your hands reaching out to warm up over the flames. Agatha watches, the way your hair falls off your shoulder and over, her eyes running along your clothes. You’re maybe in your early twenties, or older - it’s hard to tell with witches. Her body is way to relaxed with you so near, but she doesn’t know why. Maybe it’s because she’s sure you’re magic isn’t as strong or because she’s sure you’re not skilled at all. Either way, Agatha doesn’t like it. 

You don’t react to the word “dear” slipping from her mouth, certain its’ just another way to degrade you and poke fun. It doesn’t bother you. You don’t let it. 

“Man has never been smart, have they?’ you chuckle out, flashing her a small smile. 

Agatha responds with a shake of her head, pursing her lips. “Not much, no.” 

Silence absorbs the both of you for a couple minutes, up until Nicholas stumbles through the brush. He’s brushing off some burs with a distasteful look. 

“They’re so sharp,” he mumbles, very displeased with his clothes being covered in spikey balls. There’s a small smile from you, your hand lifting up to drop down. Just as the action is completed, all the burs fall from his clothes, his head snapping up to look at his mother. 

“Thank you, mama.” “Don’t look at me, boy, that had nothing to do with me,” she chuckles slightly. “Would’ve been quite entertaining watching you flounder about a bit longer.” 

Nicholas laughs slightly at his mom’s teasing, his eyes turning to you. “You then? Thank you.” 

Turning back to the fire, you remain quiet as Agatha and her son converse together, the sun starting to fall. You still aren’t clear how long had passed since you last remember anything, but you’re too nervous to talk. Wringing out your hands, glaring at the fire only to occasionally look at the duo before you, you can’t find a good enough time to interject. 

There’s a small huff from Agatha, her annoyed look turning to face you. “You’re loud.” 

“Excuse me?” you ask out, a little bewildered at her statement.

“Your mind that is, you’re insufferable. What is it you need?”

Closing your gaping mouth, you blink a bunch before relenting. “How long… was I – how long did you have control over me?” 

Agatha wets her lips, turning back to the fire. “Maybe around eight days, including a portion of today.” 

Eight days. It had been eight whole days. You swallow thickly, looking down to stare at the dirt below. She had been in your mind, controlling you, full access to everything for eight whole days. You feel perturbed at this information, wetting your lips down as you struggle to come to terms with that. What had she done in there? What had she seen? What had she messed up? What had she learned? It feels like a violation to you, your head turned away from her. 

Apathetic to your discomfort, Agatha goes back to talking with Nicky about his day and what he found in the forest. 

The next few days are spent silently for you, simply walking alongside Agatha. You wish you could’ve been behind her, away from her, but she insisted you go next to her to negate any chance of betrayal from you. Far too tired to argue and far too worried she’d overwhelm your mind again, you just gave in. During this journey, you didn’t care to ask her where you all were going, you just walked. And walked. And walked.

[growinguparo]

Thinking once again about the intersection of being aro / perpetually single and the Housing Issue. It is without a doubt the biggest issue I face as an aro person, particularly in fucking Canada.

In my province we have rent control on almost all rental units by default. Annual rent increases are capped at 2.5%, and though I have had landlords in the past try to break that law, they back down when you say "that's literally not legal lmao try again".

In my province we also have a type of lease called a group lease, where multiple people sign on as a group. This is the standard type of lease used in properties with more than one bedroom.

If one person wishes to remove themself from a group lease, that terminates the lease for all of the other tenants in the group. Therefore, in order to continue living in the unit they are already in and may have been in for years, the landlord can choose to force the remaining tenants to reapply, and upon signing a "new lease" they can increase the rent by however much they want. Forget 2.5%, they could double rent with no consequences and still get tenants because that's how desperate people are in Canada.

Seeing as that's fucking insane, I talked to multiple lawyers about it the last time this happened to me, and they all said yeah no, if someone wants to be removed from the lease then the landlord can choose to deny a takeover and force a new lease. You can prevent the issues that come with a new lease if everyone remains on the old lease even if they no longer live there, but that is rather precarious for everyone involved and also makes your landlord hate your guts.

Anytime a new lease is signed, landlords can increase by whatever they want, so renovictions are very common (I've been renovicted as well). With all these easy-to-access loopholes, "rent control" is a joke.

It is New Year's Day and I have received yet another email informing me that since one of my roommates decided to leave at the end of the lease period, our lease will be terminating and showings will begin next week. If any one of us wants to stay, we have to reapply at market rates with a replacement person already in the group ready to sign a new lease, or we have to all remain on the old lease.

I left my parents' home in 2016, and since then I have moved 15-17 times, depending what you count as a move, and lived in 12-13 different places. That's due to a bunch of forced circumstances, including co-op placements and illegal evictions, but many of those moves were because the roommates I was living with decided to move on with their lives, and I had no choice but to move as well.

When I tell people I've moved 15 times in 7 years, they are always shocked. I'm like, how have you NOT though? Having had this conversation many times, I start to ponder what makes me vulnerable to this type of exploitation, and what makes my friends able to avoid some of it.

#1. As a low-income disabled person, I am unable to afford "market rates". This means I'm always tryna get units that are below market rate, and those landlords are invariably very interested in removing their tenants to bring their busted-ass units up to market rate.

#2. I am SINGLE bro. No one is planning their life around living with me. Every time a roommate leaves, I get forced out too. I did have a long-term roommate for a couple years who bounced around 4 places with me, but eventually she moved city - as is her right - and I was forced out again.

Couples also have more options when it comes to affordable housing, particularly if they are willing to share a room. Sharing a room cuts your rent in half. It’s pretty rare to see just one person living in a 1bed because it’s just ludicrously expensive, but for couples it’s a decent option. During the searching stage as well, if you already have someone to live with it’s a lot easier to find places than if you also have to find new roommates (this part is especially brutal for me as a trans person). It is certainly still difficult for couples in the market, I know couples who have ended up homeless as well, but being alone makes you more vulnerable.

The housing crisis is a broad issue affecting literally everyone, but single people are one of the groups that is systematically disadvantaged, making it a significant issue for aros imo. It is the combination of being single and low-income that has made me so vulnerable to housing instability.

Edited with minor corrections

[squirrellypoo]

I will be your blood loss consultant

Hey IWTV fic writers - want to ensure your character's blood loss feels realistic? Got a situation where a petit coup has gone too far, or a character got gravely injured? I've got a unique perspective to offer to the fandom - I've lived for extended periods of time with extremely low blood counts* and I'm happy for you to send me WIP snippets or to ask for advice on blood loss storylines.

To break it down a bit further, from my experience, how being low on the different types of blood feels/affects you:

Red blood cells - Red blood cells carry oxygen around the body, so if you're low on these, you're effectively low on oxygen in the blood. This is the most obvious, but you feel really sluggish, tired, and will be breathing heavily at the slightest physical exertion. Physically, it kinda feels like you're moving underwater, and your limbs feel heavy, and even short walks feel hard. (I went from running 10km 3x a week to getting out of breath just walking up stairs, for example). Cognition is fine, but frequent naps are a requirement.

Platelets - Platelets are what allow your blood to clot and heal cuts, so a lack of these means you bleed and bleed for a long time. But also you bruise super easily, and bruises last a really long time (weeks/months). You can also have spontaneous burst blood vessels in the whites of your eyes. Parts of your body that wouldn't normally bleed also do - like waking up to blood on the pillow because your gums bled overnight. The most unexpected part for me was having a constant background rushing sound in my ears - kinda like holding a seashell up, but all the time (until a transfusion).

White blood cells / neutrophils - A lack of these doesn't make you feel that different, tbh, but a lack of WBC means you can't fight off viruses so you pick up every single cough and cold, and have it for twice as long as normal people. A lack of neutrophils means you can't fight off bacteria, so your body's normal bacterial cohabitors cause problems that can really mess you up. So you've got to be insanely conscientious about what you eat (no runny eggs, unpasteurised cheeses, raw vegetables!), and brush your teeth and mouthwash after you ingest anything. You'll really only need to worry about these symptoms though if you've got low blood levels for an extended period of time (several weeks+).

Overall though, I've described the extreme examples. If your character is young and healthy, they will probably only experience the red blood loss symptoms (and possibly minor platelet symptoms) for a few days, depending on how much blood was lost. If they're in a situation where a hospital would give transfusions, be aware that you'll only ever be given enough to get you out of the dangerously low territory, never so much that you'd be "back to normal" counts after the transfusion(s). But transfusions do make you feel better almost instantly (better, but not good).

But again, feel free to message me with any specific questions (I can also tell you how chemo, meningitis, spinal taps, surgery w/o anaesthetic feels if that's of use!), I'm happy to talk about all this and I want to give back to this fandom and IWTV fanfic writers in particular to say thanks for the hundreds of hours of enjoyment you all have given me!

* I'm absolutely fine now! Over my lifetime, though, I've survived off the blood of literally hundreds of people. A bone marrow transplant saved my life 14 years ago and I run marathons now and am probably healthier than most 40-somethings, except I'm still Clinically Extremely Vulnerable to Covid and can't go into crowded places or unmask indoors. But my bloods have been fine for over a decade and this is in no way traumatic for me to talk about!

Please consider joining your country's bone marrow donor registry and/or donating blood regularly if you're able to! Both saved my life.

[thequeensgrimoire]

Wheel of the Year 2024, Partial Redux

Since my last Wheel of the Year reading, there have been some big changes in my life.

Some more or less noticable to a reading, of course, but one major one was so obvious I even saw it in the way my Wheel of the Year was laid out: A big potential cross country move, to a place with little support, for an uncertain job future, in a field I've only been hired in once before. The cards showed it clear as day: In July, there would be a massive change, a whole chapter of my life drawing the curtain. And after that... well, there were two deaths and a tower. It wasn't great.

But since that reading, I've had huge news that moved my relocation to next year - and with it, that whole certainty for July slips away. So I thought it would only be best, seeing as my yearly course has so dramatically shifted, to do a re-read for July through December and see what my NEW end of the year might bring.

Where We Are Now - King of Cups, Reversed A failure to create a loving or supportive environment. This card means that, where I am, I'm not in a place of emotional vulnerability or safeness. I'm not letting anyone in, leaving my cup upturned - empty - and refusing to be receptive to others or let them give to me.

July - The Six of Inking Balls This card represents drowning in your work for better or worse. Being lost in your job. I can already feel this incoming, with my job getting more and more frantic as production ramps up. It's a warning not to get too caught up in it and remember to pop to the surface, every now and then, for air and human connection. And to remember to eat.

August - Queen of Swords, Reversed This card heralds a sort of targetless rampage, a hack and slash approach to life where you kill all before you and take no prisoners for your goal. You will hurt and cut anyone in your way - you are demanding, brutal, and harmful, because you feel like you must be. Be careful where your blade may fall.

September - Page of Pentacles, Reversed A haziness, having no clearly set goals for yourself after your rampage left you aimless and empty. You don't really know what you want to do, drifting, and you're moving from thing to thing without setting roots down. Try to center yourself and judge why you're doing this, and if it may be better to stop in one place for a while.

October - 7 of Cups Suddenly, new! New projects, ideas, and choices, all popping up at once - abundant choice and boundless imagination. This is a card of opportunity, possibility of change, and new horizons. Make sure you pick wisely from the bounty in front of you, and enjoy it while you can.

November - Two of Whips, Reversed This card is about seizing your personal power, despite maybe feeling like you have low station or very little power to make change. Take a moment to assess the structures around you and see how you can make change without hurting those around you.

December - Dancing Death This is a happy death card! It's dancing on the grave of the old in order to joyfully celebrate the new coming on the horizon. It's a reminder to be light and joyful in the face of imminent change, and the temporary nature of life. A good way to close out a year and welcome in a period of massive change for me and my impending move, indeed.

Where We End Up - Seven of Pentacles Things coming to completion, and hard work paying off. Enjoy and appreciate what all your hard work has made for you, and now you can look ahead to plant a new crop - you know it will be bountiful if you treat it right, like you did the last. A bountiful harvest of a life well lived!

This reading definitely lines up much more closely with how I feel the next six months will be without the massive, upending move changing everything and turning things on its head. Hopefully I'll be able to take advantage of the good this reading entails, learn from the bad, and be ready with a full six months coming to joyful fruition to see the next phase of my journey off well.

[prince-honeypaw]

Hello hello you shall never guess who it is <3

I am sneaking in the back window and infiltrating your inbox to request some regressor!Giran headcanons, if that is okay? Something something the broker is always there to take care of things for the League, but who takes care of the broker? They are breaking into his place to say hello Compress needs a new arm again after that last fight this one is busted, but it's hard to do business when you're baby...or you know, wherever you see fit to take it, you know what you're doing. Please, I've had naught but crumbs and am withering away without any good good Honey food of my boy! 🌙

♡ Anything for you, dear! I decided to do some basic headcanons since I've never really gotten to explore Giran as a regressor, so I hope this will sate you! Please enjoy!

♡ It's already difficult for villain aligned and older regressors to find time to go down, but try being both at the same time! Not only that, but Kagero's regression is a rather recent development in his life. Sure, he isn't totally in the dark about it, having experienced Dabi and Jin in their own drops, but it wasn't something he really saw for himself as he felt that it was just... Out of his age range. That he was too old for it.

♡ Little does he know that no one is immune to the all encompassing warmth of regression once it latches on, and the seeds had already been planted! From Ken gently explaining that she thought he was a regressor because he has such a fondness for cute, but tacky trinkets and the like, to Jin being insistent on only wanting to play with Kagero when he feels small, it's practically inevitable that regression starts to gently saturate his life.

♡ At first he only really grazed over a wobbly sort of middlespace on occasion, which was not ideal when he was out and about. Sometimes you're an adult with adult money that you can do with as you please and then the next minute you're in a Build-A-Bear using your adult credit card to pay for a Pawsome Pink Bunny named Tulip. This is not a one time thing, despite him wishing it was; He ends up coming home with pacifiers, bottles, hot pink leopard print blankets, more stuffed rabbits, plush slippers- Whatever that little voice in the back of his mind wants he typically ends up getting.

♡ It isn't until after the incident at Deika City that he really and truly regresses. No middling, no slipping, just a full and proper drop as soon as there's no more risks to his life to worry about. And he drops extremely low! Two or three at the highest and infancy at the lowest- Not what he expected, but it's the cards he was dealt. After losing five entire fingers, it's reasonable to assume that he doesn't want to be anywhere near the MLA for an extended period of time, so Jin and Himiko follow after to make sure that he's cared for! ... Despite their own wounds.

♡ But, honestly? He doesn't tell them not to. Kagero is in a new, small, and vulnerable mindset that is genuinely frightening to him! He's scared to be alone, so Jin won't let him be alone. And where Jin goes, Himiko follows! And she follows with direct access to the Detnerat CEO's bank account that will be used to spoil the baby. "Five figures for five fingers seems fair to me!" She'd said while one of Jin's clones stole Trumpet's van to take Kagero home.

♡ It doesn't take Jin and Himiko long to figure out what's up with their broker during that car ride. What with them both having their own experiences with regression, they peg him as a baby pretty quickly and adjust their attitudes accordingly! ... Somewhat. They try their best, but they're very high energy individuals that are hit by that new baby high! Poor thing still cries over the intense energy they bring to the table so they're quick to scramble over themselves to fix it.

♡ Turns out that Kagero is very much a vibes only sort of baby! If the vibes don't match with how he's feeling, the only solution is to cry about them. He's also a shapes and colors baby, sitting on his bedroom floor with Tulip clutched in his good hand, mesmerized by the tacky fabrics and textiles in his closet while Jin and Himiko try to hunt down pajamas that are appropriate for a baby. Toga opts to simply Purchase clothes, being pretty trigger-happy with the company card in her little gremlin claws.

♡ Kagero's place was a total wreck when they got there, but it didn't stay that way for long! Jin felt responsible for Kagero and the state he was in, he was the whole reason Jin had somewhere that he felt like he actually belonged! So, using his recently reawakened abilities, Jin made it his personal mission to fix (or steal) anything that had been broken. The bathroom, living room, and kitchen had been the first to be brought back to a livable condition, which meant that it was safe for Kagero to finally have a well deserved bath while Himiko skittered around his kitchen like some sort of creature.

♡ Trying to wash off roughly a week or so's worth of blood and grime off of an injured infant is not an easy task which is why it takes three clones and grilled cheese-NO crusts!-bribery to achieve a clean and fluffy Kagero.

♡ Himiko has spent roughly five hundred dollars on clothes alone for this boy and she refuses to explain how. She simply says that a baby needs cute clothes that make them feel cute or what's the gosh darn point of it all! She has also purchased a myriad of adorable bunny Calico Critters that gains an appreciative croon from Kagero!

♡ The night is spent with old Disney movies on the TV, grilled cheese, and online shopping in the pillow fort that Jin and Himiko made... After trying to beat each other to death with pillows.

♡ Kagero has no interest in joining as soon as his pacifier is broken out. He has no taste for bedding based warfare, but he does have a taste for chewing and gnawing and sucking whatever is in reach, so the pacifier was an absolute necessity.

♡ When they finally built their ramshackle little fort and peruse a few online stores, (with Toga purchasing anything that even got the slightest reaction from the baby), Himiko scrambles off to the kitchen to show what she had been doing. She'd managed to find the bottles that he'd hidden away in the back of his cabinets and used one of them to make strawberry milk!

♡ With how low he'd been kept throughout the night, there's little fuss from Kagero when she holds the bottle for him, the sharp little manicure she'd pampered herself with scratching against his scalp and Jin's sturdy body settled up against his side.

♡ He wonders how he ever came to earn such a devoted friend in Jin and, by association, Himiko, but in that moment, the world felt just a little bit safer and a little bit kinder.

[kitkatt0430]

Time for the latest episode of the Flash. And since I was not hiding from spoilers last night, I already have reservations about the retcons I've read are coming in this episode.

Chester please don't do the self-echo thing. Please.

Anyway, Barry's birthday used to be in March. Not April. I'm still not over this change. It used to be his birthday was just days before his mother's death for extra tragedy points. Also, even if Barry is 'physically' thirty, he's experienced 34 years of life. Celebrate that. That's what birthday's are about. Celebrating the experiences.

Wally!!!!!! And David!!!! And Dig!!!

I do like Barry and Dig's bonding and actually talking about grief. It'd be great if Barry would actually grieve for Caitlin. But. At this point I'll take what I can get. At least she gets mentioned.

Chester makes Allegra a mask device of her own. Which she could have used two seasons ago - who does he think she'll be hiding her identity from at this point? Her secret identity is just as much swiss cheese as Barry's at this point.

I've been reminded of why I don't like that one Spice Girl's song.

Wally and Barry bonding!!! But of course it gets awkward because apparently there are parts of Wally's past he's not talking about. (Retcon alert.)

And now we're to the poisonous toast from the teaser, let's get this death party started!

Bloodwork!!! Making quite the CGI entrance. And he wants cake. I wonder how he escaped ARGUS.

Oooh, using what he learned about Nora against Barry this time. Low blow. And he's so cheerful about it too.

Chester - O_O All my friends are zombies. Gotta run.

Ramsey's new target is Wally. And Wally doesn't know what Bloodwork does. O_O

Okay, so here's the retcon I've been dreading. So in Season 2 it was established that Francine left Joe and Iris after her drug habit endangered Iris. Only she then found herself pregnant with Wally, so she got clean and stayed clean. That was the story both Wally and Francine presented, either through their exact words or by implication.

Now what we're getting is that Francine relapsed at some point, quite likely for a long period of time given the state of disrepair the home in Wally's 'memories' - modified by Bloodwork so unreliable narrator here - and that his struggle with squaring his rose-colored-glasses memory of his mother and the reality of what living with her during her drug addiction is what's making him vulnerable to Bloodwork and keeping him from achieving his spiritual awakening.

On the one hand, this is a much more plausible retcon than the Thomas Snow bullshit we got in Ep2 of this season. On the other hand, the whole 'drug addict Francine' plot was already racist in S2. This makes it worse.

Is it realistic that a drug user, even one who knows she needs to stay clean to take care of her child, would relapse once or even several times? Yes. Totally. Is there a racist history of painting black people as more likely to be drug addicts? Also yes.

Also fuck Ramsey for trying to subtly pit Wally against Barry there with his dig about Barry's childhood home being nicer. This isn't the traumatic childhood Olympics.

So was Red Death actually from a parallel reality and not an alternate timeline after all? I still feel like the alt timeline thing was just muddying the waters.

Good on Wally, seeing through Ramsey's rather blatant manipulation. I do feel like Bloodwork is trying too hard to sell his snow job here, though. Being a bit too obvious compared to his last go-round.

Lol, the meta commentary in Ramsey directing 'the Flash' is pretty funny. The hat sells it.

And Frost and Caitlin being brought back for that scene, just to really twist the knife that he got 'extra' years and they didn't.

*sigh* and we're revisiting the S2 resentment Wally felt for Barry. I'm not a fan of revisiting resolved plots like this.

Oh, hey, did Wally just kill Barry for real? I guess that's how he meets Oliver. And no time wasted, Barry's on Ollie's purgatory island to hang out in death.

Hugs for Oliver. Oliver - I'm allergic to emotions. Stop it.

oooh, confirmation. Red Death is from Earth-4125. Oliver has been numbering them, he's been bored. And alone.

Also I'm getting all the Olivarry vibes between these two again, they just can't resist making heart eyes at each other.

Khione's been taking a level in badass. And putting people in cryostasis. I do wish they'd explore non ice aspects of her powers, but I do like the way she uses her powers here - I don't think Frost had that kind of careful control. Though, honestly, they could have had her do it and I'd have accepted it as just her control improving.

Oliver - Look, I could un-dead you accept you're having a liiiitle bit of a death wish. Barry - What? Me? A death wish due to all the trauma and depression I've gone through? No. Not at all. Maybe. A small one. It's just everyone I care about keeps dying, but I randomly get three extra years of life. It's just not fair. Oliver - I should quote Labyrinth here, maybe.

Okay, so I'm glad to hear Oliver finally open up about how he feels about his dad's death. But. What about Laurel's death? What is she, chopped liver???

Actual dialog. "You're not gonna boop me again, are you?"

Oliver - I can only intervene when the multiverse is in danger. Barry - I think you missed me.

Barry, stop flirting with Oliver, your pregnant wife is hiding in the time vault.

Get some of that Arrow theme song in there as Ollie grabs his bow. Does he even have arrows? Does he need them at this point? Can he shoot specter powers at people???

Wally's corrupted lightning is white.

Oh, hey, Ollie found arrows. Somewhere.

Ramsey's god complex having gotten bigger since S6 is kinda amusing though. One world is not enough, he must have them all.

I do think I enjoyed the S6 zombie invasion better, though.

Khione healed Dig of his infection. With, uh... vomiting involved. Eww.

So in Wally's flashbacks, was that a clip from Flashpoint? O_o

Dig showing up to save Oliver. And more hugs for Oliver. Cut short by Ramsey going full CGI monster on them. Still, nice to have that reunion.

Oliver's gonna shoot specter power at the multiverse. After saying his iconic line, which does not make sense in context. But I'll take it.

While Ramsey deserved to have his powers taken away, it's a little too convenient that his HLH is magically cured too. I'm not sure how I like that. It's like giving him what he'd originally wanted.

Party time again I guess.

Glad Iris and Wally get to bond.

Iris - I've read your long-ass emails. Wally - *surprised pikachu face*

I hope Wally's sticking around for the last few episodes of the show.

Dig and Oliver getting a proper goodbye this time. *sniff*

And the episode ends with the tradition of Barry and Oliver drinking together. This time in the only bar left in Central City. (Seriously, it's the only bar this season. And also the only casino.)

Oliver and Barry getting a proper goodbye this time too. *sniff sniff* And a reminder of how much Oliver believed in Barry from the start. Awwww

I think I was expecting Bloodwork to be the final overarching villain of the show, so I am a bit disappointed this was a standalone episode. But overall it wasn't bad for what it is.

The trailer for part one of what is a... three? episode final arc shows the show returning to the start with Barry, Mattobard, and Nora Allen's death. Will the multiverse be relevant here? Will Barry break time one last time for old time's sake? Will Eobard finally be a non-disappointing villain again?

I guess I'll find out whenever I have time to actually watch it. With my home reno finally about to heat up, I dunno when that'll be.

[willfrominternet]

upcoming doctor who speculations

folks, i'm thirty-two years old and woke up with a head full of ideas about what the upcoming first ncuti gatwa/millie gibson season of doctor who will include. thoughts:

the doctor - having just gone through one of the most traumatic experiences of their lives - will lean more into their openness and vulnerability, showing a greater appreciation for life than ever before. they'll stand back in the shadows (or at least try to) and just want to hang out with their friends, even if they have to help fix some hijinks along the way.

ruby sunday will be a good-kid-turned-bad type, and she'll be on the run for getting in with some other bad folks and getting nabbed doing something she shouldn't. low-hanging fruit, but the title of the christmas special ("the church on ruby road") makes me think she'll have some sort of religious upbringing she's shed. doctor who rarely touches on religion for various reasons, but it'd be interesting for them to get into it (although who knows, considering now disney's involved with the show)

the doctor will at first find ruby brash and not like her criminal background, and ruby won't like the doctor because of their so-called "weirdness." however, the more they find out about each other - their shared proclivity for breaking rules, both of them wanting out of normal society, perhaps something having to do with perceived gender - they form the beginnings of a friendship.

their relationship will be strictly platonic, but incredibly strong. promotional pictures of them dressed up in period clothes make me think they'll just flit around history to have fun and go absolutely bonkers at parties. frankly, doctor who's been too serious for too long. we haven't had a good party doctor since ten. we're due!

for this reason: the main tardis console room won't change from how it looks in the 60th anniversary specials. and because of that, you know the doctor and ruby will put those to good use. we will get at least one televised tardis dance party. that's right, friends. manifest this with me: DISCO TARDIS.

no idea about stories, except we've got eight to work with, so they'd all better be good. from promo pics of costumes we've seen so far, we ought to have a 70s episode (given the pic of ncuti and millie in suits), something from the 18th century (jonathan groff's episode), one with a musical twist (jinkx monsoon's episode), and something in which the doctor will once again wear a stetson.

i have a feeling the show will return to a more educational/historical vibe, given the sci-fi of the last few series - the timeless child, trenzalore, the return to gallifrey - has all made the lore confusing. while sci-fi won't disappear full scale, it will take a back seat to let the show reset in a way. if it does explore the future, it will (i hope) focus more on socioeconomic/technological/ethical issues a la the ninth doctor's run rather than "ooooh scary monsters."

i've already got parts of conversations written in my head between characters and if i don't hear them in the show, i'll get upset. i am one of those terrible people who thinks they could've helped out the writer's room in a big way. expect me to write these scenes and post them to ao3 soon.

anyhow: very excited to see what they do with this apparent reboot of the franchise. you should read that as "i am ready to be hurt again." happy 60th, doctor who!

[lordsovorn]

This post is inspired by Blasphemous' unlockable upward slash combo.

Attack X 3 + Hold Up + Attack, and the last strike in the combo will be an awesome rising uppercut that brings the Penitent One up into the air.

Sometimes I try to implement this in my playstyle, because it is cool, but. There is almost never any need, let alone pressure to do so!

First, getting up in the air leaves you vulnerable, since you can't block, dodge or jump to avoid a hit.

If I want to deal damage, it would be better to just go with the normal powerful finisher (which might actually deal more damage), and whose recovery time is a miniscule risk compared to the vulnerability in air.

Furthermore, although some threats are supposed to be jumped over and doing so while epically slashing the enemy would be awesome, the rising uppercut either doesn't lift you high enough or is simply too close to the main arc of the enemy's strike.

Finally, it does not take you far enough to follow up with a powered-up downward plunge.

There is one single situation where I feel it is *better* to use it - and that is where there is a boss that lowers periodically and then lifts up out of reach. The rising uppercut can lift you high enough to land a couple strikes again there, though compared to other ways of damaging that boss, I doubt there is any real advantage.

And I think that's a bit sad! Don't get me wrong, I love the game and in no way consider it a design or execution problem. It's cool to have it in the arsenal, in low-stakes situations it can be reasonably used for aesthetic preference or a slight localized advantage. But I can't help but feel sad that in all the most tense and demanding moments of the game using this cool move would put me at a complete disadvantage! Let alone that there is no incentive to use it then, except a single boss.

And so I've been wondering if any of you know games that encourage or even demand using such mechanics alongside "the main ones" at the height of the game's difficulty curve

Are there any 2D action platformers (think Hollow Knight) that treat combo systems and magic and late-game abilities with the same level of importance as Jump, Dash and Attack?

Hear me out.

Most action games demand from you a lot of precision in the most basic of moves - if you miss your jump over a death pit, you die; if you miss your parry window, you're fucked; if you dodge a bit too early, your face is going to kiss the mid-swing halberd; etc. That counts for many, many kinds of games, but imo is especially visible when distilled in a 2D action platformer. If you fail to do these actions with proper timing and application, you're gonna fail at the game - especially the bosses.

And then there are actions and abilities that are put into skill trees, different equipment or hidden unlockables, and they have a distinctly different, almost parallel role. They give you passive bonuses, or solve extremely niche situations, or a way for you to fuck around, have more fun and get a good grade in Murder or in Being Fast. But your ultimate success in highly demanding scenarios (bosses, for example) almost never depends on them - boss compilation videos are a living proof of that.

So, I've been wondering - do you know any games where an upward slash combo or periodically shooting appropriate spells might be *required* in a bossfight? If not as much as the humble Jump, at least to the degree Parry is*?

* - as an often optional high-risk-high-reward mechanic, that can still be utilized (and is encouraged) across pretty much the entire game

[princesssarisa]

The last Little Women post I reblogged made me think once again about the complexity of all four March sisters.

In the opening chapter, each sister identifies her "burden," the one big flaw that she most wants to correct. Their character arcs throughout Part I revolve largely around conquering those flaws: Meg's vanity, Jo's temper, Beth's shyness and Amy's selfishness. It would have been easy for Alcott to make each of those flaws the only flaw that each sister has, to make each flaw exclusive to the sister it's most associated with, and to make all of their life lessons revolve around those four "burdens." As I've read commentaries on Little Women, some readers do seem to reduce their flaws to just "vanity, temper, shyness and selfishness." But the characters are much more dimensional and realistic than that.

Amy can be just as vain as Meg, even though she doesn't identify it as her main "burden," and she has a temper too – just ask the ashy remains of Jo's manuscript. Meanwhile, Jo's temper becomes less of a problem in Part II. In her young adulthood, her bigger "burdens" become her reluctance to follow social rules that she personally dislikes (see "Calls"), which is arguably a form of selfishness just as strong as Amy's, as well as the temptation to choose money over ethical values (i.e. by writing sensation stories). Amy also struggles with the latter in her dilemma of whether or not to choose a loveless marriage for money. For that matter, Meg also struggles with craving wealth too much and needing to be reminded of life's more important things – the idealized Beth is the only March sister who doesn't struggle with that problem.

Then there's Jo's flaw which @littlewomenchannel argues is her true biggest "burden": her fear of being vulnerable. This is arguably what really causes her resistance to marriage, even though we see that she increasingly longs for romantic love in her life. Another "burden" of Meg's, particularly as a wife and mother, is her habit of shouldering too much responsibility and being reluctant to let anyone help her. And back in Part I, all four girls, even Beth, periodically struggle with the "burdens" of irresponsibility and reluctance to work. There's also Amy's excessive desire for popularity (that's what the incident with the picked limes is about, not "selfishness"), which Meg also shares to an extent. And in different ways, both Jo and Beth have low self-esteem due to not "fitting in," though I'm not sure if low self-esteem would have been considered a flaw in the 19th century.

At any rate, it does all four March sisters a disservice to reduce their inner struggles just to "vanity, temper, shyness and selfishness." They're not simple children's book characters who each have a single gimmick. They're three-dimensional human beings.

[beomglocks]

better ; c.yj

summary : you deserve better

pairing : ex-boyfriend/mafia leader!yeonjun x reader

warnings & other : angst, mention of trauma, stalking and kidnapping, yeonjun breaks into your house, refer to picture for visual, i saw this edit on ig and now my mind has fuel, listen to better by WOOGIE.

w/c : ???

---

the sunlight peeks through your shades and onto your face, causing you to stir in your sleep. you squeeze your eyes tightly shut hoping your brain can trick itself into sleeping for just a couple more hours longer.

it works for a couple of seconds. closing your eyes tight may have tricked your brain into thinking it was still dark enough to indulge in more sleep.

you sigh peacefully, hoping to get back to your previous dream but you're cut off by the sound of a door being slammed shut.

you open your eyes but remain in bed. it had to be around 7am at least which means no one should be in your house. well, no one should be in your house period. if it was a robber, they sure do work early.

you get out of bed, not caring about your lack of proper clothes because if you were gonna die, what's the point? you take careful steps toward your kitchen to make sure you don't alert whoever may be in there.

the sound of things being moved around and frustrated groans grows louder the closer you get to the room. you grab your nearby safety bat from a corner in your hallway and bring it above your head to swing.

when you come into the line of sight of the intruder in your house you halt yourself from swinging and bring the bat down to your side, the person not realizing yet that you're there.

anger bubbles inside of you at the sight of the sleeve of tattoos and dark head of hair that you recognize all too well.

"what the fuck are you doing in my house yeonjun?"

the boy in question seemingly pays no mind to your question and simply continues rummaging through your fridge and cupboards. "where the hell do you keep your peanut butter?"

you cross your arms at him. "i asked you a question."

"so did i," he retorts. you roll your eyes at him. "you're in my house ass hole, in case you forgot."

he subtly rolls his eyes away from your line of sight and stands up from the fridge. now that he's seen you, his eyes linger on your body for longer than you're ok with. he leans back on your counter with a smile, a visible change in his demeanor, "good morning."

"answer my question," you frown. he sighs, "we got busted and i needed a place to crash."

"yeonjun!" you exasperate. "what? i slept on the couch out of respect for you," he raises his eyebrow, taking a bite out of his slice of dry bread.

"what the fuck do you want me to do, thank you? i told you not to involve me in your mafia gang whatever shit anymore and you go and do this," you gesture to the mess on your countertop.

"yeonjun you're the only other person here! what's with all this shit on my table?!" he continues eating nonchalantly as you scold him and try to clean up as best as you can.

"can you calm down," he sighs. he takes another bite of bread before placing the plate on top of a random box of pizza. "no one saw me come here, you'll be fine."

you continue cleaning, without saying a word to him. you feel like if you open your mouth you'll explode. you clench your teeth as you watch him look through your fridge again out of the corner of your eye.

it's been months since you last saw him and this is the first thing he does. from the counter, you have a pretty good view of his back as he looks through the fridge.

even though you hate him, your mind wanders back in time when that same back would be littered with your marks and scratches. the neck tattoo that would be colored with hickeys he would proudly wear is now bare and untouched.

your eyes go up to his head which thankfully is still turned away from you. the pink mullet he used to rock is now a dark undercut with hints of red. it looks good on him, you have to admit. his ears have more piercings than you remember and you hold back a smile thinking about the time when you would play with his ears and he would tell you to stop.

"you're awfully quiet, what're you thinking about?" he asks, still facing the fridge. you have to remember your relationship with the mafia leader ended months ago, whatever feelings that were present right now were most likely your heart missing human interaction.

"thinking about how i want you out of my house," you mumble, picking up a half empty cup of ramen. he sighs, standing up and fixing his messy hair.

"i said i was sorry," he leans back on the fridge, watching you clean. you bite your tongue, picking up the empty pizza box and tossing it in the trash. "sorry doesn't make up for trauma yeonjun, that's what you don't understand," you say quietly.

"if i knew that would happen to you i wouldn't have left you alone, you know i would've had soobin or taehyun be around you 24/7!" he reasons.

"well you didn't," you breathe out. you give him a tight lipped smile and for the first time in months he's reminded of the pain he saw in you eyes when they brought you back.

"you decided drugs and money were more important than your fucking girlfriend that you love "oh-so-much" getting stalked and kidnapped."

“that’s not tr-“ “that’s what it felt like!” you place an empty soda bottle on the table. he blinks at your outburst. in all the time you’ve spent together, you were never one to lash out even when he annoyed you to no end.

he stares at you for a moment before closing his eyes and biting the inside of his cheek in frustration. "y/n," he sighs angrily.

"even after i killed them all? it wasn't enough for you! you still left me," he steps closer to you and you unconsciously step back. you recognized this tone on yeonjun but he never used it on you. it's gravely and deep and on the rare occasion that you did hear it, the outcome was never good.

"yeonjun..."

"no, look- i know what happened to you was fucked up but i tried my best! it still wasn't enough- you still left and didn't even tell me.." he chuckles at this. "do you know how long it took to find this fucking place?"

you look down, suddenly feeling small. any bravery you had has now dissipated. it's like your mind and body were so used to yeonjun that you just knew when to submit.

"you were my only sense of normalcy in that place," he mumbles. "sure i've got the boys but they're not you.."

his head is hung low, making his hair cover his eyes. your first instinct would've been to run into his arms and pepper him in kisses. endless strings of 'i love you' to reassure both of you that what happened wasn't either of your faults.

you bite your lip, "is that why all this food is like this..."

he doesn't move from his spot. "im sorry, i miss you." you almost feel your heart break. you hate seeing yeonjun so messed up about something that he just eats to forget because it's his only other form of happiness, well apart from you.

you walk up to him, bringing your arms around his slim frame. at first, he doesn't hug you back since he wasn't expecting that but soon enough he engulfs you as if he's been touch starved for ages.

"im sorry, please come back to me? i'll do better, i promise you won't get hurt anymore hm?" he sounds hopeful and it makes you close your eyes.

"you need to leave," you say quietly. you feel him hug you tighter as he places his chin on your head. "please let me stay with you," he pleads.

you force yourself to step away from him which takes a lot more effort than you thought. you look up at his face and he looks so broken. it’s rare to see a mafia leader look this vulnerable but yeonjun opens himself up to you like this at times and you feel lucky, in a weird way.

he watches you expectantly, waiting for your answer. “yeonjun i just- i don’t feel safe around you anymore.”

you swear you see his heart shatter right in front of your face.

you want to hit yourself but it’s true. where you once felt peace you only feel fear. maybe once upon a time yeonjun was like your savior but now he brings pain, especially with the type of work he does.

he looks down, biting his lip. you can tell he's trying to act like what you said didn't just tear a hole straight through his heart. "you know i'll still watch over you and keep you safe," he promises.

you smile lightly at him, glad that he hasn't completely given up. "i know." he wastes no time stealing a kiss on your forehead, quickly moving away before you can complain or push him away.

"you still fucked up my kitchen though," you say when he starts walking away to your door. he only shrugs as you watch him walk out your door and out onto the streets.

you can only sigh, hoping he'll be safe until he can get his base back.

[javisjeanjacket]

Peace - (Poe dameron x fem!reader)

Folklore series Part 3/4

A/N: Phew THIS ONE! so many ~emOtIOnS~. So, time has passed since Part 2, wherein they've fallen more and more in love and they’ve both told their parents about the other one and its gettin kind of SERIOUS. We’re picking back up in TROS time period.

Warnings: oral sex (F recieving), penetrative sex, curse words, orgasm, 18+, NSFW, the usual. 

Word Count: 5.2K yeet

Two fingers moving lightly over your cheek awoke you.

Your eyebrows furrowed and blue morning light pulled your eyelids to open. You grumbled and squinted in the growing light.

An arm tightened around your waist and pillowy lips found your jaw. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up." Poe whispered, his tone honeyed.

You groaned and clenched your aching back, a chorus of pops running down you.

Poe chuckled softly on your cheek and made a trail of kisses from your jaw down the curve of your neck.

"Since when do you wake up earlier than I do?" You growled.

"Couldn't stay asleep last night. I've been up since 4 this morning." He admitted. His stubble tickled your neck and collarbone.

You looked over to him, your eyes still squinted. "What?"

He smirked and his curls brushed back and forth on your cheek. His mouth sucked on a spot of your collarbone that somehow remained untouched by hickeys.

A warm jitter zipped through your body and you felt your mind clear. You reached a hand over to run through his thick hair.

"Babe..." You whispered.

Poe's arms tightened around your waist and his warm chest pressed tightly into yours.

You smiled and let out a deep breath.

Your mother had warned you about going back to Poe when you had Holomessaged to tell her the news. Her eyebrows had furrowed and her tone had become harsh. She had recounted you desperately fleeing the Resistance base to return to your home world. She reminded you of how fully you had shattered on her doorstep, falling back into her comfort and security instead of Poe's.

'We talked about what happened, Mom. About everything. And I think...I think he's grown. He listened to what I had to say and changed some things.'  You had explained to her.

'Pssh, we'll see how long that lasts. He's the Resistance poster boy; he's too cocky. I don't trust him, joganfruit.' She had countered.

"What time is it?" You whispered, cutting your mother's memory off before she could become any more inflamed.

Poe murmured and looked over at the holoprojector on his bedside table. "5:30."

You grumbled and wiggled yourself closer to him. There was still a few hours left to steal before life would awaken and call you away from Poe. You sighed happily and pulled the blanket up to your chin, closing your eyes and getting readjusted.

Your ex-boyfriend now turned serious boyfriend ran his fingers slowly from your hair line, over your scalp and then down your neck. He pressed soft kisses on your warm temple and murmured on your skin, "Can I ask you something, sweetheart?"

You smirked, keeping your eyes closed, and nodded yes.

"Would you still want to be with me if I wasn't Poe Dameron?" He whispered. His words hovered thickly on the skin of your cheek.

You opened your eyes and turned to look at him. Your eyebrows scrunched and compassion flooded your expression. You reached a hand up to cup his face. You smiled softly and replied, "Who would you be then?"

Poe chuckled, but his undertone was serious. "No, I mean like...if I wasn't a General. If I wasn't in the Resistance." His dark eyes reached out for yours, grasping desperately for you to steady him. His heart, so normally overtaken with passion and determination, now sat vulnerable in front of you. He took the meat of his lip into his mouth as he watched your face.

You leaned up from your pillow and kissed him softly, both of your hands around his face. "I'm going to love you no matter where you go, or what job you have, or whoever you become. We're two parts of the same star, remember?" You swiped a thumb across his eyelid gently.

Poe looked down at you, his eyebrows tensed with emotion and ran his thumb over one of your eyelids softly. "Two parts of the same star." He echoed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Dad? Dad, I'm having a hard time hearing you." Poe said, his words terse. His eyes scanned the empty locker room, asking for some kind of guarantee of solitude.

His father's image shook and his words came out garbled. Holomessaging wasn't very popular in the rural lands of Yavin 4.

"Poe? Can you hear me?" Kes asked.

"Yeah, I can hear you. You're breaking up though."

"Lemme try..." Kes began and Poe could hear footsteps crunching on gravel.

Suddenly, Kes appeared clearly in the Holoprojector.

The Resistance General smiled. "Hey, Dad." Poe said again.

"Hi, son." Kes replied. "How's the Resistance?"

Poe sighed and shifted his weight. "We're still kicking. Barely."

"As long as there is one person willing-" Kes began.

Poe finished his father's tired mantra. "to stand against tyranny, hope is never lost."

Kes nodded and beamed at his son's morality.

"Dad, I wanted to ask you-"

"I heard about Leia." Kes said solemnly.

Poe nodded. "Yeah, we're...." He swallowed, for emotion had risen in his throat. "We're still trying to work through it."

"I can't imagine what that's like, son. Who took over her command?"

"Well, me and Finn-"

"You're the General?!" Kes exclaimed.

"I-" Poe tried to explain.

Kes was too overwhelmed to hear him. "Poe, your mother would be so proud of you! She is so proud of you." He corrected himself.

"I've been trying to do my best...Thanks." Poe debated about whether or not he should explain to his father about his shared command with Finn, but decided it could wait for another time.  He clutched his mother's ring hanging around his chest and said, "Dad, I need to ask you something."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For what felt like the hundredth time, your eyes ran across the shotty Arebesh scrawled onto the holodocument displayed in front of you.

You held your chin in one hand and chewed on the side of your lip as you thought. Mumbling to yourself you said, "So, if Senator Lago and the Kanjiklub are working together. How do they connect to the First Order?"

Your mind felt as if it was smashing against a brick wall over and over again.

Thankfully, the whir of a certain orange and white ball droid averted your attention.

You twisted in your seat and smiled when you saw BB-8. "Hey, buddy." You said and jumped down from your chair to talk with him. You bent down to your knees and scratched his sides.

The droid opened up a large compartment in his side to reveal a wiry bouquet of purple and yellow flowers.

You smirked and took them from BB.

A note dangled from the flowers that read, 'Meet me in the hangar. -Poe'

You blushed and shook your head. Surrendering to the tsunami of hopelessness you had been feeling all day, you began to shut off the holotable and gather your books and papers.

Giddiness built in your chest as you and BB-8 moved quickly through the Ajan Kloss Base to you and Poe's quarters. You dropped your books and papers by the door and began to search through your closet for something to wear. You chose one of Poe's t-shirts and a dependable pair of jeans.

"Don't look!" You scolded BB-8 as you began to take off your uniform.

The little droid beeped and blooped in embarrassment, before zipping quickly through the door and towards the hangar.

~~~~~~~~~

Excitement and curiosity bubbled in your chest as you turned the corner to the hangar. There Poe stood, one of his arms on the Millennium Falcon and the other fiddled with his belt loop. BB-8 whirred softly around him, taking a visual catalog of the Falcon's current state.

You clutched the flimsy bouquet of flowers tight in your hands and started towards them. At the sound of your footsteps, the most handsome man you had ever seen turned to you. His face was quickly overwhelmed with a smile and his arms opened toward you. "Sweetheart, hey. You made it." He said as you pressed into his chest.

You wrapped your arms around his middle and pressed a hot kiss on his neck. "The General is gonna be so mad at me for skipping out early if he finds out."

Poe chuckled and moved you away from his chest to press his lips against yours. "I won't tell if you won't." He said after pulling away from your kiss.

You blushed, chuckled, and playfully hit his chest. The two of you walked onto the landing dock of the Falcon, his arm around your waist and yours wrapped tightly around his middle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The orange sun drooped low across the waves of Kothlis. The red and purple suns not too far behind it. Their colors drew painted lines across your and Poe's intertwined bodies, buried in the black sand below you.

"I think you ruined my tan." You whispered as your fingers combed through Poe's dark hair.

His body had been laying almost on top of yours for the better part of two hours, his skin hot and sticky against yours. His mouth sucked on your collarbone, the same spot he had worked on earlier in the morning, and he responded, "You don't need a tan anyway."

You smirked and readjusted the sunglasses resting on your nose. Napping on the shores of a beach planet with Poe Dameron was not how you expected this day to end, but you never could predict how any day with Poe was bound to go.

"We should probably go soon. They'll be worried about us." You said.

Poe groaned and tightened his hands on your bare ribcage, his thumb tracing the line of your bra.

You blushed and ran a thumb back and forth across his stubbly cheek. "Come on, babe. Get up."

Poe shook his head, his dark curls bouncing.

You smirked and called for BB-8 to start up the Falcon.

The little droid awoke from his resting state and moved, unsure, through the dark sand toward the hidden freighter down the shoreline.

Poe's hands dug into your ribcage, hard, and you gasped softly. "Poe, come on."

The man refused to let his mouth go from your collarbone. His eyebrows sat heavily on his forehead and you could almost see his hands shaking on your skin.

You put a gentle hand on his stirring ones and squeezed. "What's wrong?"

Poe's lips left your skin and he breathed out heavily. The General sat up and turned his back to you. He looked out over the lapping water and sighed. He ran a hand across his face and then chewed on his bottom lip.

You sat up and gently placed a hand on his defined back. You ran your hand up and down his shoulder blade before reaching up to give his tense neck a squeeze.

The man looked down at his knees, pulled tight to his chest, and then back out to the water.

"I don't-" Poe started. "Ugh," He exclaimed to himself. "I don't know what to do."

"About what?" You asked softly.

Poe mindlessly grabbed a handful of black sand and squeezed it so tight it slipped through his grasp. His dark eyes looked back at you under a cocked eyebrow and then returned to gaze at the on-coming waves. Poe sighed once more and then looked back at you again, "I'm in love with you."

You smiled and scooted forward to cup his face in your hand. "I know you are, dummy. I'm in love with you too." You kissed him sweetly, grasping the chain that held his mother's ring.

Poe broke the kiss and began to draw small designs in the sand. He swallowed loudly. "Sweetheart, I-" He blinked rapidly. "I talked to my dad and he, uh, he has some land on Yavin 4 that we could," Poe ran out of air and began again, out of breath, "he said we could build a home on."

You sat back on your haunches. Your mouth parted and your eyebrows pursed. Visions of you and Poe's home, deep in the warm jungles of Yavin 4, flew through your mind. You saw the warm morning light stream through the bedroom windows and Poe's sleepy face on the first day he would be able to sleep in after the war was won. You saw the garden of herbs and vegetables in your backyard. You saw a little black-haired girl screaming and running as her father chased her through the same lands his father had chased his son on.

Unable to control them, your eyes began to water. You looked out over the ocean and your breath came in heavy pounds against your ribcage, not unlike the waves against the shoreline before you.

"I'm not asking you to settle down, not if you don't want to, but..." Poe took your hand and pulled you back to the present. "I would."

Your eyes met his and you suddenly felt overtaken by his gaze. Looking at him now felt as if you had never seen him before, every curve and angle of his face utterly breathtaking.

"If you want to, I'll do it." He whispered. He reached a hand out to rub his thumb across your face softly.

You placed a hand gently on his outstretched arm and kissed his wrist, pressing your lips tightly into his skin.

"What do you think, sweetheart?" He asked again.

A warm breeze wafted off of the ocean and relaxed your overwhelmed mind. "I want to, of course I want to." You admitted.

One side of Poe's mouth quirked upwards as you continued.

Reality careened it's cruel voice into your thoughts. "But...what if," You took a deep breath and averted your gaze from your boyfriend's. "What if I lose you? Or you lose me? I couldn't-" You shook your head, the thought of being without him, once so mundane, now was absolutely unbearable.  

Gently, Poe moved your gaze back to him. "I know, I know. But, what if we don't lose each other? What if we make it, sweetheart? What if this thing we're doing...works out?" His voice clipped towards the end of his question.

Tears spilled from the sides of your eyes, one after another. You pulled dry pieces of skin from your lips using your teeth.

Your boyfriend continued, "I told my dad," Poe took a shaking breath. "that I felt like I had lived my whole life just waiting to meet you. Waiting for the way that you looked at me the night we met."

You let out a quiet sob and Poe fought through his own emotion as he said, "If I'm gonna die, I want-" He swallowed. "I want to die with you having been the last person I loved." Poe squeezed your hand.

You wiped your tears with the back of your free hand.

"You don't have to answer now, but please, just, think about it." Poe's eyes were big and looked up into yours.

You nodded yes and leaned forward, pressing your lips harshly into his. You gripped his hair in between your fingers and pressed your body against his warm one.

Poe clutched your back with both of his hands, one on the middle of your shoulder blades and the other resting across the curve of your ass.

You pulled on his lips, hard. You were desperate to fill him with the glowing passion spilling from your chest.

Poe gently pushed your shoulders away from him and said, the space between your mouths hot and humid. "If we make it and we win this thing, people will come looking for us."

You sat back on your legs once more and Poe's hands dropped to his sides.

"We will never be able to truly have peace. We'll always have to hide from First Order sympathizers."

You dropped your gaze to the sand on your beach towels.

"But," Poe said, the lightness in his voice returning, "I would be with you when they do." He moved a finger under your chin and pressed against it, tilting your gaze upwards.

The General smirked slightly and his eyes ran over your features, searching for a response.

Your eyes caught on the ring around his neck and you pictured it glinting and glimmering on your finger. How you would work with it on your hand, shining in between gadgetry and espionage. How you would hold Poe's face with it there to decorate the both of you. You pulled your eyes from the shining band and back to Poe's.

Looking at him now, the sunset painting his face in warm purples and pinks, every touch of his skin, the smiles on your neck, the tight grip on your hips, rang loudly in your ears. Every morning spent curled up in bed years ago and all the mornings just these past few months flashed through your mind. You thought of his nibbles on your ear and how your name sounded falling from his lips. He seemed to beat as loudly in your ears as your own heartbeat. Your hands began to shake and your chest thumped loudly.

"Just, think about it, okay?" He whispered, his face clearly wanting an answer now.

You nodded and flung your arms around his neck. You pushed your breasts firmly into his chest and buried your mouth into his neck.

Poe ran a hand over the back of your head and kissed your temple. He drug his hand down to support your back and with the other he moved your jaw so that you could kiss his lips.

You obliged him, pressing your tongue against his bottom lip.

Poe adjusted your legs around his torso, pressing your panties against the growing tent in his pants, and opened his mouth to you.

You moaned as you moved your tongue into his mouth and began to dance with his own. Your hands held his face and tangled in his inky curls.

The pilot moved his hands to cup your ass and then whispered, "Let's get to the ship." He squeezed your butt once before drawing his hands down your legs as you moved to stand.

The pair of you stood, grabbed the beach towels,  and almost jogged to the primed and ready Millennium Falcon.

You followed after Poe up the landing ramp and were greeted by a grumpy BB-8. The droid zoomed around the ship, bored from waiting so long.

"Hey, sorry buddy." Poe apologized to his mechanical friend. "We're ready now."

BB-8 whirred to the spot in the hallway where his mechanical arms could steady him and waited.

You followed Poe to the cockpit and watched the muscles in his back shift as he began the pre-lift off calculations.

His brow furrowed and he mumbled to himself as he worked, thinking as fast as he could.

You placed a hand on his shoulder and pressed a firm kiss on his cheek. "I'll meet you in the General's quarters." You whispered before pulling away from him.

He nodded, one of his hands reaching down to squeeze your almost naked ass.

You blushed and turned from him to go to the only bedroom on the ship.  

~~~~~~~~~

A few agonizing moments passed as you waited for Poe. Your mind raced with his words and the depths from which they had come. You wiggled backwards on the bed and closed your eyes. You let out a deep breath and moved a hand slowly down your body, stopping to tease your nipples, and then finding a way under the soaked cloth of your underwear. Slowly, to drag it out and keep yourself wet for Poe, you moved your fingers up and down your slit. You allowed your mind to wander through all the things you loved about your boyfriend. 'Or is he my fiance now?' You thought. The mere thought of spending the rest of your life beside the impulsive pilot pushed a new wave of moisture out of you. You moaned gently to yourself, letting your head roll to the side as your fingers teased your entrance.

The door hissed open and Poe was already tugging down his boxer shorts as he crossed the threshold. He stepped out of the fabric and quickly climbed onto the bed and over your scantily clad body. "BB-8 is in hanging in the corridor in rest mode."

You smiled and rubbed yourself faster now, as the cool of his mother's ring meeting the hot skin in between your breasts.

"Un-uh." Poe said and pulled your hand from out of your underwear.

You whined as the friction left you and Poe took your wet fingers in his mouth.

He ran his tongue down your finger and his mouth sucked on them persistently.

You moaned and your mouth gaped open. You could feel your pussy begin to throb, aching for him. Your back arched off of the bed and your hips jutted upwards to hit his.

Poe chuckled and let your fingers drop from his mouth with a loud slurp.

Your head reared back gently.

"You want me to show you how much I love you, sweet girl?" He asked, his voice low and throaty. His lips planted sloppy kisses down your jaw and neck.

"Yes." You breathed. You tried to reach your hand downwards to satisfy your burning core, but Poe caught it mid-reach.

"I'm the only one who gets to make your pussy cum."

Your eyes fluttered closed and a whine fell from your lips. Your hips moved to touch his.

Poe pushed your hips back down to the bed with both of his palms. He pressed his hands tightly over your hipbone. He kissed your stomach softly, creating a path down to the tip of your panties.

"Poe, please..." You whined, your core already soaking through the fabric. Your body squirmed under his grasp.

Poe dipped down to suck on the soaked fabric, graciously pulling some of your aching folds into his mouth.

You gasped and squirmed under him.

"Please what?" He asked, his breath hot hovering over your pussy. He ensnared your thighs with his arms, wrapping them underneath him, and then began to press soft kisses around your folds, allowing pressure everywhere except where you needed it most.

You cooed and jolted away from him.

Poe wiggled you back towards his mouth and continued his barrage of kisses.

"Please, fuck me, please." Your eyebrows tensed over your clamped shut eyelids. Your hands curled into the grey sheets below you.

Poe chuckled low in his chest, and you could feel it on your thigh. He snuck two fingers underneath the waistband of your underwear and wiggled it down your hips and then down your legs. He flung the garmet on the floor behind him. His dark curls tickled your stomach as he blessedly licked your dripping folds. His tongue moved up and down the slit, slowly, gently, teasingly. He swirled his tongue around the bundle of nerves at the top of your pussy and sucked gently.

You whined loudly and reached a hand down to yank on his hair. A jolt of energy seemed to zip through your back, kicking it up from the bed below you.

Poe moved his tongue towards your entrance, darting back and forth quickly before spreading you even more with his fingers. "You always taste so fucking good, sweetheart." He whispered. He closed his eyes and curled his tongue inside you.

Heat worked it's way from Poe's mouth, through your body, to escape through your shaking hands.  

Poe moved and began to lick rapidly at your clit and then worked back down to your entrance.

You yelped and your legs tensed around his head. You had to stop yourself from crushing his skull.

"Ow, baby." He smiled, pushing your legs gently apart again. His mouth moved back upwards to suck on your clit and then gently ran the pad of his thumb over your entrance before inserting a finger into you.

You cried out and you could feel his finger jerking quickly inside you. "Maker, fuck!" You exclaimed, your hand tensing in Poe's onyx-colored hair. Your thighs seized around his head and your eyes jerked up to watch him. You could feel your body tensing on the verge of orgasm, deathly close to falling over the edge.

He moved his hand even quicker now, the wetness of you squelching around him. His eyes met yours as his mouth moved from your clit to kiss you. Your wetness was still on his lips as his skin pressed into yours.

You happily licked the moisture off of him, reaching your tongue in his mouth as his finger jerked rapidly inside you.

"Close, sweetheart?" He asked, momentarily breaking your contact.

You nodded and gasped as he moved his thumb to work your clit in his other hands absence. Both of his fingers moved in unison and the new sensation quickly overwhelmed you.

Like the crack of a whip, tendrils of warmth overcame your body, leaving your mind lightheaded. You felt your muscles clench around his finger and your body begin to shudder. You yanked his hair, hard, and let out multiple loud yelps as your orgasm barreled through you. Waves of uncontrollable pleasure crashed into you, clearing your mind of absolutely everything except Poe Dameron.

Speaking of, the man leaned to press steadying kisses to the space in between your breasts. His hands slowed inside you as your body shook against his own. Slowly, he pulled his finger out of you. He whispered, his breath hot on your neck. "Can I put my cock inside you, sweetheart?"

You forced your water-logged head up from the pillow and breathed, "You?" hoping he would know what you meant.

Poe shook his head no as he moved to take one of your erect nipples in his mouth. The stubble on his face scratched your delicate skin. "It's all for you this time."

You moaned and your back lifted off the mattress below you. "Please." You said through gritted teeth.

Poe ran your nub in between his teeth gently, twisting back and forth. "Is that a yes?"

You groaned, half in frustration and half in pleasure. "Poe, please fuck me." Your back jerking from the feeling of his mouth on your sensitive skin.

The pilot smirked and released your breast from his mouth. He sat back on his haunches and began to line his now fully erect penis up with your dripping cunt.

You pulled your bottom lip inside your mouth as a sweet pressure overwhelmed you. Your eyebrows pulled together and you allowed your head to fall back against the pillow behind you. You could feel your body adjusting to him, and after you nodded that you were ready, Poe began to move.

The man breathed out through his teeth and grunted in pleasure. His body slowly moved above yours, his cock kissing every ridge inside you.

You closed your eyes and felt pleasure melt down your shoulders and drip down your naked body. You began to mirror Poe's movements, absorbing the force of his thrusts.

One of Poe's wide hands took your jaw in it's grasp. He moved it downwards so that your eyes looked into his. "Look at me, baby." He growled.

You felt yourself clench around him and you moaned in response, your eyes automatically flitting closed.

His grip on your jaw tightened as the force of his thrusts ricocheted through your body. Poe moaned loudly.  "Look at me while I fuck you."

You exclaimed and forced your eyes to open.

Poe's deep brown eyes locked onto yours, pulling you to fall into him. To trust him. To spend your life with him. He pulled his bottom lip into his mouth as he watched your face twist up in pleasure.

The intensity of his gaze easily overwhelmed you and sent shivers down your body.

Poe wrapped a hand behind your head to cup your neck and rested the other on your thigh pressed against his. "Sit up."

"What?" You asked, your breath shallow in your chest.

"Sit up." Poe repeated, gently moving his dick out of you.

You moaned without him and had to wrangle your focus to sit yourself upright.

Poe took both of your legs and wrapped them around his hips.

You hoisted yourself up and sat flush against his chest. Your arms wrapped around his neck and your lips pulled on a spot on his smooth chest.

The pilot lined himself up with you again and then gently pushed your hips down onto himself.

Your mouth flew open and your head reared back. Your eyebrows tensed, your eyes closed, and an undiscovered pressure filled your abdomen. Your head lolled to the side and a loud moan escaped you. You forced your eyes open and watched Poe's face as you settled around him.

The General moaned and sucked in air through his teeth. "Holy shit. Does that feel good to you?" His voice airy and dark.

"Oh my god, yes." You whispered. You took his chain in your mouth and began to kiss the soft skin where it had been.

Poe began to thrust himself upwards into you and the pair of you exclaimed loudly.

You clenched his bare back in your grasp.

Poe held your ass in his hands, spreading you to fit better around him. He moved slowly at first, both of you getting used to the new position.

Overwhelming desire moved you to bite the meat of Poe's neck gently. Your body shook against his.

As much as he could in this position, Poe worked to piston his dick in and out of you, forcing you to relish every ridge and friction he gave you.

Your toes curled and tears pricked at the sides of your vision. "Fuck, baby." You cooed.

Poe growled and pulled your collarbone into his mouth harshly. "I never want to fuck anyone else but you." He whispered.

You exclaimed and tears fell from your eyes. You felt yourself clamp down on Poe's dick and heard him moan in response. "I'm-" Your head lolled backwards. "Oh my god, I'm gonna cum."

"Cum for me, sweetheart. Cum all over me." He whispered, his words shot warm rockets across your bare chest. His hips thrust harder now, running to snatch your orgasm from you.

You screamed and your body began to shake violently. Your muscles all seemed to take a deep breath, rejuvenated by the man in front of you. Your vision blurred and your mind was overwhelmed by the sensation of Poe inside you.

Poe pulled you flush to his chest, pressing a centering hand to your back. His mouth softly kissed your shoulder and his cock moved still.

You moaned as the last of your trembles left you and consciousness seemed to return.

Poe let you fall to the mattress below him.

Your head lolled from side to side and your eyes flitted open. "Holy shit." You breathed, reaching out to curl your fingers in Poe's hair. "Where'd you learn that one?"

The pilot placed a burning kiss to your lips and replied, "Kijimii."

You snickered as he began to suck on your earlobe and neck. "You want me to take care of you?" You asked, your voice breathy.

"I'm not done with you yet, sweetheart."

FOLKLORE TAG LIST: @enamoured-x​ @mcolbz14​

What did you think? I really hope you enjoyed reading my work. Just your liking / re-blogging it means a lot. If you have a moment, I would love to hear your thoughts! Tell me what you think via my ask box or a comment always warms my heart!! Thank you again for reading!

Need more reading material? You can visit my Masterlist for more Oscar Isaac character content, as well as my other works.

Want to be kept in the loop? Let me know so I can put your handle in my taglist form. Right now, I’m writing for Poe Dameron, Santiago Pope Garcia, and Din Djarin, but I have plans to expand my SW character list, and eventually add in my favorites from the MCU as well.

Thanks again for reading! Sending love! -hai

[firstumcschenectady]

“The Fabled Wisdom of Solomon” based on 1 Kings 2:10-12 and 3:3-14

(Image: Lamp of Wisdom, Waterperry Gardens, Oxfordshire, England)

What I wouldn't give for the wisdom of Solomon right now. I've prayed for it already, lack of asking isn't the issue. Life feels like a series of unanswerable questions. “Is this safe?” “Is this wise?” “Is this fair?” “Who does this exclude?” “Whose needs does this meet?” “How do I create balance?” “Whose needs do I prioritize?” “How can I find a middle way?” “How do I manage risk? As a person? As a parent? As a pastor?” “What are the risks of NOT doing the thing?” “How do they compare to the risks of DOING the thing?” “How worried should I be?” “How courageous should I be?”

I'll stop. It's probably unpleasant to hear already, and truthfully those are MOST of the questions, they just repeat a lot. Furthermore, these are variations on the themes of everyone's questions, maybe with a little bit more pressure on those making decisions for others or for groups.

We're nearing 18 months of pandemic based impossible decision making. I'm also nearing 15 months of parent based impossible decision making, which has led to SO MUCH more respect for every other human who parents or offers caregiving. (I already had respect for those things, but my respect has increased exponentially.)

I find myself thinking about presidents who wear the same thing every day, or offload trivial decisions so that they can keep their capacities for the important stuff. I remember articles about how our decision making capacities are finite, and I think about how incredibly overwhelming it has been to be in this “new world” where everything carries risk and every decision is suddenly BIGGER.

And I want to be Solomon. I want to be blessed by God to be wise. I want God to give me “a wise and discerning mind.” I want to know what to do!!!!!!

But even as I say this, I realize that I have projected onto Solomon and on to this blessing from God a supernatural sort of wisdom and discernment. I've read this story and assumed that Solomon always knew what to do, and was always right when he decided. But, I don't actually BELIEVE that. That would be superhuman.

(Also, if that were true, then the kingdom of Solomon likely would have outlasted … say … Solomon because he would have been able to fix the underlying issues and pick a good successor.)

Which means that the Bible has just served as a very good inkblot test for me to realize that in the midst of incredible uncertainty, certainty would be superhuman. (Or dangerous. That's another way this can go.) I yearn to feel good about decisions, but that's not possible right now. I yearn to feel confident as I decide, but that isn't possible right now either. I yearn, truthfully, to pass my authority off to someone wiser, more prepared, better read – but no one knows the struggles and the questions I face quite like I do, so there isn't anyone to pass them to.

John Wesley's “Three Simple Rules”: “First do no harm, then do all the good you can, and stay in love with God” have never seemed so hard to work with!

To keep the challenging more challenging, people judge each other on decisions. I can't remember the last time I had a conversation that didn't involve either 1. someone who had to make hard decisions struggling with what is right OR 2. someone who doesn't have to make the decisions frustrated with those who made them. I hear clergy and bosses worrying over safety procedures, balancing risk tolerance with the will of the body with the needs of the vulnerable. And, at the same time, I hear others complaining on ALL sides.

I'm definitely not Solomon, but I want to offer to all of you some of the models and tools I bring to discernment, under the assumption that we're all bogged down by the weight of all these decisions. Welcome to a pragmatic sermon. ;)

In terms of the pandemic itself, I've been really grateful for an idea I heard put into words in the NY Times in June of 2020.

Manage your exposure budget

Risk is cumulative. Going forward, you’ll need to make trade-offs, choosing activities that are most important to you (like seeing an aging parent) and skipping things that might matter less (an office going-away party). Think about managing virus risk just as you might manage a diet: If you want dessert, eat a little less for dinner.1

During a pandemic, every member of the household should manage their own exposure budget. (Think Weight Watchers points for virus risk.) You spend very few budget points for low-risk choices like a once-a-week grocery trip or exercising outdoors. You spend more budget points when you attend an indoor dinner party, get a haircut or go to the office. You blow your budget completely if you spend time in a crowd.2

This has been super helpful. I often call it the “risk budget.” We all have different risk tolerance, and we have different things we particularly value and need. I hear from many families with kids that day care or school are imperative to someone in the family's well being, and so they do it. But then their risk budget is spent. I hear from others that going to work and being exposed to a whole lot of people is already an over extension of their risk budget, and they fear bringing something home to their kids, so they don't do anything else.

I'm mentioning this right now, because people without kids or other unvaccinated people in their households have had an increase in risk tolerance, and aren't always seeing how carefully others have to manage their risk budget. And, for some in our community that means not coming to worship – even outside, even masked, even distanced – because even that TINY bit of increased exposure is more than the budget can handle.

It isn't really a FUN thing, a risk budget, but it brings a model to something otherwise incredibly overwhelming. Deciding on each individual activity separately is simply too much for any of us, so a budget gives us a guideline on how to make decisions. It also reminds us that we're working with different budgets and different expenditures, and none of us need to judge how someone else makes their decisions.

Not quite the fabled wisdom of Solomon, I'll grant, but a tool nonetheless.

Another simple tool is one I've mentioned before. “Daily examen” is a prayer process. It is quite simple. You center yourself, ask for God's help, review the past 24 hours, identitfy when you felt most alive and connected with love, identity when you felt most disconnected from life and love, thank God for the best the worst and all that's in-between, and either share that information with another person or write it down. It is entirely too easy to zombie our way through life, especially in the surreal pandemic times. But taking the time to be reflective helps us learn about life, ourselves, God, and what we value. It helps us learn what we need to change, and what we actually love about our lives as they are. This is the single best discernment tool I know, although it is most useful for BIG HUGE decisions that can be made over an extended period of time.

My final “simple” tool is one of those deceptive ones. It is simple, in ideas, but it is much harder in practice. It is: trust God to be working in and through you. That is, notice when something feels off-kilter in you, and trust that it is significant and matters. THIS is the most subversive thing I'm saying today. Trust the wisdom of your body as being connected to the wisdom of the Divine, and when a decision brings a dull ache to your gut or any other part of your body STOP and listen. Figure out what emotions fit into that ache. Then, figure out what needs are under that emotion. (Handy-dandy helpful pdf chart here: Feelings/Needs). We KNOW more than we think we do, and God often works with us in subtle and embodied ways. As we learn to trust ourselves, we are learning to trust God-who-is-with-us-and-for-us.

Well friends, it doesn't feel like much, and it DEFINITELY doesn't feel like the fabled wisdom of Solomon, but in the midst of unending difficult decisions, I hope these little tools are gifts for you. May God help us all, as we discern. Amen

1 I'm not convinced diet culture is safe nor healthy, but I left the reference in because I fear it is familiar.

2 Tara Parker-Pope “5 Rules to Live By During a Pandemic” https://www.nytimes.com/2020/06/09/well/live/coronavirus-rules-pandemic-infection-prevention.html June 9, 2020.

[philosophicalparadox]

Before anyone panics, the strain of salmonella is not specified. It's most likely Salmonella enteritidis, which is the most common pathogenic species.

This is also a species that already lives in your intestine, almost from the time you are born.

It is similar to Heliobacter pylori, the bacteria that causes ulcers, in that it lives naturally in your body, but certain conditions can cause it to over grow and throw your system out of whack.

One of those conditions obviously is introducing a lot of it into your system at once; if you have a cup that needs to be half full and you add even a few drops, you've tipped the scale.

But I also feel a need to point out that S. Enteritidis is SO common in the environment (seriously this shit lives damn near everywhere there's moisture and decomposing material- even between your toes!) Most people have a pretty hardy resistance to it. More so if you have pets, especially dogs, which often track it into the house on their paws. (Its relatively common in soil, never mind soil that has been soiled).

Not saying you should chance eating it. I've had food poisoning from this bacteria, it's definitely not fun. But on the off chance you've already ingested some, don't panic! unless you are in the vulnerable categories for any other disease, (young, old, immune compromised) you're unlikely to need hospitalization and will probably just have some bad diarrhea and possibly a low grade fever. Treat it like the flu, and eat, eat, eat! I know it's hard when you're feeling nauseous but keeping your gut motile will make you recover faster. Do NOT "starve" it, or it will starve you!

Take some high end probiotics, manage any fevers (which should not go over 101.5. Anything higher and you might have a more serious problem.) And drink a LOT of fluids, with electrolytes interjected periodically - be it eating soda crackers for the salt or actually mixing some salt water to drink, you need the sodium, in moderation, to process the fluids moving in and out. You also need glucose so if you're up to eating carbs (like soda crackers or plain baked potato) then do it.

I DO NOT recommend Pedialyte unless you dilute it by 1/2, especially at first. For some ungodly reason they put way too much zinc in it, and when your gut is out of whack that can potentially make things worse. This advice coming from my gastroenterologist, when I asked her why I could drink Pedialyte when I was healthy and feel fine, but when I was sick it always made me feel sicker. (Pedialyte is a godsend for motion sickness, so I sometimes sip a bit when I get really bad vertigo).

It's manageable and most people are fine after 3-5 days, just like the flu. If you're sicker longer than 7-8 days or your fever spikes above 102 or it won't go down, then definitely get to the ER. Salmonella sp. Kill by septic shock, which has a few hour window of survivability. Fortunately it's not terribly sneaky and shows up with pretty obvious symptoms - going pale or purple, especially in the gums, dizziness, extreme fatigue or faintness/weakness, jaundice, high fever (above 102), chest or abdominal pain that stays around, (colic, cramping of the smooth muscle in your intestines, is common in food poisoning overall but particularly with salmonella. It hurts like a bitch and you can pass out from the pain - i have - but its not fatal and usually passes in less than 30 seconds. They often come in waves, and those waves can last up to 30 minutes. Kind of like uterine contractions when you're in labor. If it cramps and stays that way, at that intense level of pain, for longer than like 3 minutes, go to the hospital.) Other symptoms include general feeling of malaise (overall yucky) intense feelings of impending doom, (I wish I was kidding but your body knows when it's not ok and will tell you about it. Ive experienced this feeling during heat stroke.) And an overall shocky feeling.

If you've never been in shock, psychogenic included, then I advise reading up on the symptoms. A lot of people fail to recognize when they're in shock and don't seek help, so the more people know the better.

Otherwise, just know that your odds of being ok are much greater than the reverse. There are very effective genus specific antibiotics that do wonders and work very fast on these kinds of things. Survival rate even for septic patients is pretty high.

You'll be alright.

heads up errbody

[somewhereinneptune]

Hello Star, thank you kindly on offering free readings. If I may, could I please ask for a reading on my innerchild? Since last year I've been healing myself, including my innerchild (or maybe teen in my case) by acknowledging she was good enough and did what she could despite the unfairness she had to face in the past decade. How is she now, in state is she? Thank you kindly for answering. I hope you'll have a good week. Best regards - EV.

Hello Ev! And thank you for requesting an ask

Your Innerchild/ teenage self seems to be doing mostly alright. There is the feeling where she got back on her feet after a long period of darkness, suffocation and low energy and It's of course thanks to you 💖 she feels more reassured of herself and seems to be gaining some confidence, she also seems to be accepting herself in a more compassionate way, making peace with the parts she doesn't like about herself. She also seems to be in the energy where she sees herself as capable of living a great life, she might be in the energy where she's ready to start to create things in the 3d, to make things happen, to move you guys to a new level . The last thing though is there is something with emotions she's struggling with, either suppression and the difficulty to express her vulnerability or that her emotions may be fluctuating or going up and down. There's something about her inner self that she's not revealing and letting out in the open, hidden in a sense and she might be resisting to let those inner emotions and thoughts too flow

Hope this resonates 🌟

[stubert87]

I've spent some time wondering if coming back here to write something was too self indulgent at a time like this. But I'm going to start writing and if you're reading it then I got to the end, thought it was ok, and posted it.

I think it's fair to say that the nation's mental health, as a whole, is in somewhat of a state of flux at the minute. Our life as we have come to know it has been entirely disrupted, albeit temporarily. I've come back to this space to share some of my musings and offer support to anyone who's mental well-being has been affected since the threat of coronavirus has appeared. For many of us this may just be the most recent trigger in a series of major episodes of anxiety, low mood, etc. For others this may be the first experience of anxiety or any form of negative mental health. I hope this makes sense. Maybe even some of it may resonate.

I'm more than familiar with how isolated our thoughts can make us feel when we're in the midst of a low point. Add to that the very literal isolation that has been placed upon us through social distancing measures, and we have the recipe for a mental health crisis. But it isn't as bad as it sounds. In every new scenario and environment there is opportunity. We just have to be willing to see past the fear, and seize it.

There are some of us adept at change. There are some of us that aren't. I most certainly am not. I'm analytical and need order. I need time to digest my new environment, figure out how to exist within it, and then consciously marry up my strengths to this new situation, while guarding my vulnerabilities, until I establish a comfort zone. For those of us who aren't as fast paced as others when dealing with change, the entire situation is a wall of anxiety that seems insurmountable. We are paralysed by the overwhelming barrage of "what ifs" leading to "I can'ts" that lead to "I'm a failure" and there we have ourselves back on the edge of The Abyss, thinking that this is no way to live and pleading with the universe to make tomorrow better.

The insurmountable wall right now is made up of a combination of catastrophic thoughts that has the potential to cripple us. From worrying about the health of ourselves, our friends and families, to worrying how long this will last, and when we can see each other again, each question is a potential doorway to a 'corridor of catastrophising'. It's very easy to end up at very scary and upsetting conclusions, such as "I'm never going to see xyz again" or "I'm next". Very dark thoughts in an already dark time.

The process of breaking the cycle of worry is a lot greater than anything I can outline in this blog. There's a reason that forms of therapy last many sessions. But I'll try to pass on a few tips that have helped me over the years.

I like to think there's two places you can tackle your worry. If we use the analogy of the 'corridor of catastrophising', the door you walk through and into the corridor is the initial worry, the end of the corridor is the final conclusion you reach: a dead end is a total overwhelming negative thought, taking another door out of the corridor is us reaching a better conclusion.

The first way you can try to tackle your worry is at the start, by nipping it in the bud. When you open the door and see that "what if" worry, you can ask yourself is this normal worry, or excessive worry. If what you're thinking is something like "I'm worried about the wellbeing of my grandparents because they're vulnerable and isolating for 12 weeks" then this is a perfectly normal worry. Any human being would think this. You then need to make sure you follow up this thought with positive action and find one way to make the situation better. Using the grandparents example, can you set them up with video calling? Can you send them voice notes? Can you get them involved in distanced activities like a video chat quiz or look for events to take part in like the virtual grand national? Taking positive action will help remove the mental isolation and bring about a positive shift in mindset. And much like a negative mindset can spiral, a positive mindset can also gain momentum.

For some of us though this may be to little too late. We might have already walked down the dark corridor to it's gloomy and seemingly absolute end. And also for anyone who hasn't had to work at challenging their thought processes before, simply trying to nip it in the bud is a a lot to get to grips with straight away, and you could actually end up in a strange state of denial where you're pushing the thought away, only for it to come back with a vengeance. So we have to look at reframing our negative thoughts to help us back track and take another turn off the corridor.

The idea is to challenge the thought by asking yourself can I bring any evidence to back that thought up? Can I prove without any shadow of doubt that the thought I have is true? Using the example of grandparents again, it's easy to bring in evidence like "they're old and therefore high risk", "there's already been thousands of deaths". These are natural worries, but they're not concrete evidence to support a worst case scenario. If we try re-framing our thoughts more positively then the thoughts become less consuming and therefore allow us to think more rationally. "They're vulnerable" - correct, but they're shielding for 12 weeks in isolation to ensure the chances of infection are minimal. "There's already been thousands of deaths" - could be challenged by "yes but there's also plenty of cases of recovery and also so many that haven't been infected or shown symptoms. As long as we're all doing our part to stop the spread, we reduce the risk".

By challenging each negative thought we give ourselves chance to minimise their detrimental impact and make them more manageable and easy to digest. It takes a lot of practice but eventually you get quicker at managing these thoughts and you're quickly volleying them away before they can take hold.

Another problem many of us are now facing is the concept of managing our time in isolation so we're not climbing the walls. Not an easy task at all, but one the more analytical of us may find a bit easier. Iregardless it will take practice. It's easy to fall into bad habits when we have too much time to kill. For some of us we'll naturally fall into good habits because we're disciplined. For others amongst us structure and good routine maybe don't come so naturally. The best way to ensure we're getting the most out of our day is to spend up to a week documenting your activities and the mood you experienced while doing it, correlating what our mood was like to the activity and looking for patterns in the day to day, so that we can then start planning more activities that elevate our mood whilst balancing our necessary tasks that may not bring us so much comfort or joy. Sounds simple on paper but I can definitely attest to the fact that challenging your own behaviour and embedding change is never easy.

There are also so many of us who have anxious brains who've suddenly found that we're calmer than usual. That people around us seem more anxious than we are. It's an interesting phenomenon that I've recently found myself in and mused over this somewhat. Having pondered on it a while, I can only draw the conclusion that my mind is used to living in a state of abstract worry. By that I mean I'm worrying about what MIGHT happen, or rumenating on an incident that happened a week ago. None of this worry is in the present. And when you're suffering from a period of mental ill-health it feels almost possible to be present, grounded, and in the moment. But in this pandemic lies a very real, very present threat. One that means our lives are changing by the day. A threat that is very much making us exist in the present. Anyone who's ever been stuck in the rut if anxious thinking knows that when you snap out of it into the present moment, you're capable of thinking and rationalising and lightning speed. So if you're one of us who's found yourself much calmer than ever, make sure you're continuing to keep those positive actions going to build a positive resilience. Think about what you can do to help friends, family, colleagues and your community to keep us all afloat. Sometimes the people who've experienced the darkest of thoughts are the ones who can bring light to others dark times. If this is you, now's your time to shine.

The final key to it all is my age old advice. KEEP TALKING. The second you feel in a slump, pick up the phone and call someone. Video call them. Start a House Party. Never impose further isolation on yourself by withdrawing. On the opposite side, if you haven't heard from someone in a while then call them. Make whatever plans you can in this difficult time.

I think I've meandered on long enough. If you've made it this far, thank you. If you've found any of this thought provoking or even helpful please let me know. I've attached a link to some further reading on covid-19 and anxiety (if you have any reading left in you) I think it's pretty useful