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justhewayfaringstranger · 4 years ago

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So, I've wanted to address this topic for a while and this post I read this morning while having breakfast is a sort of response from the universe.

I would say to start by explaining a simple concept.

Demons and spirits are not the same thing, but rather, they vary from each other. Likewise, spirits and ghosts are not the same.

• Creatures understood as "demons" exist in all religions; they are supernatural beings, typically associated with the evil, historically prevalent in religions, occultism, literature, fiction, mythology and folklore;

• "spirits" are instead organized energy with at least a certain level of sensitivity that has an energy body and in most cases also an astral body. The Latin word is a translation of the Greek prneuma ("breath", "air", "vital breath") and to some extent it can be seen in the apeiron of the Presocratic Anaximander, who had to some extent dematerialized the archè (Greek: ἀρχή ) of the other Ionian naturalists, the original principle of the universe and of every part of it, impalpable and invisible but still material, as shown by another void that, blowing inside it, fills with air matter. With the Stoics, the term begins to be compared to today's one of spirit. The pneuma belongs to the god who gives life to things and guides them according to his wishes. The pneuma is a force that manifests itself not only in the individual man but is present in all things as the "soul of the world". They are ancient entities like the world itself, part of the primordial chaos and consequently neutral in themselves;

• the term “ghost” refers instead to any incorporeal entity. The term ghost comes from the Greek φάντασμα phàntasma, which in turn derives from φαντάζω (phantàzo, "to show"; from the root φαν-, which expresses the idea of "appearing" and "showing"), and had the meaning of apparition (understood as a supernatural manifestation) and only with time has its meaning been restricted to indicating the apparition of a deceased.

In 1800, with the birth of the practice of spiritism in France, it ended up rendering in the common imagination "spirits" and "ghosts" similar entities, if not true synonyms.

The French pedagogue Allan Kardec after observing a series of phenomena, formulated the hypothesis that such phenomena could only be attributed to incorporeal intelligences (spirits). Spiritual communications took place "thanks to the intervention of a medium", that is a person with particular skills who acted as mediator between spirits and living beings, during the so-called séance. This became a busines for many and most of the spiritualists were actually charlatans who swore to the victims that they could talk to the dead. In most cases, those who could afford to turn to a medium, were economically wealthy and of high rank lost and therefore for the scammer it was certainly not difficult to obtain information (even intimate) about the deceased and those around him, if at this was added some well-orchestrated play of smoke and lights, here is the "grandmother's ghost".

Having understood this, one wonders what it is then what we understand as a "ghost of a person". It is a trace left by the living. On a scientific level, death doesn't exist. From the chemical-physical point of view we are isolated systems that receive energy and produce it. But the universe itself is a closed system. So our energy is the energy of the universe. We are universe. What happens when we die? Our energy returns to the universe system. But as we know, energy is neither created nor destroyed, but it changes. So our energy is energy that has been changed in the past by others, and will be changed by others when we are gone. Death doesn't exist because energy is immortal. The energy that I am using now to tap on my laptop keyboard is the same energy that Gaius Julius Caesar used to pull the reins of his horse and to cross the Rhine. And it will be the energy that in the future a scientist will use to to be able to travel between the various space-time dimensions. Death doesn't exist, and the life of one is the life of all.

To simplify then, what we mean as the ghost of Marilyn Monroe for example, is nothing more than a sort of energetic gif of Marilyn Monroe.

I'll give you another example. Anne Boleyn died by beheading, therefore by a violent and unjust death. In this situation, she is likely to have felt strong emotions and released a huge and consistent huge amount of energy as a result. Let's say that Henry VIII was present at the execution along with a bunch of other people, let's also say that he went back to that place (or others where Anne felt strong emotions and therefore released large amounts of energy) and thought about her, let's say that Elizabeth I also thought of her mother and so many other people. All these emotions have turned into energy. If we saw energy as a palette of colors, it would be as if: the more consistent the emotions, the more intense the color, therefore, the more energy we send (even unconsciously) to the energetic image of Anne Boleyn (the energetic gif), the clearer this will be where most of the energy is concentrated (eg the Tower of London, a room in the building, etc.).

So when we go to a "haunted" place, what we see is not the "person", but a kind of still image. And according to the speech above, it is therefore normal to find this type of freeze frame in places such as castles, hospitals, etc. then if these are found on natural energy centers or lines… bingo!

Speaking instead of spirits, as mentioned before, there are no good or bad spirits. Good and bad as well as light and dark, like day and night, are a contrast present in many traditions, including native ones. This duality can also be referred to the human being and represent a moment of acting or thinking of a person. You can think and act towards the light or towards the darkness and this can also happen to shamans.

Just think of the ego and when it takes over, or when you try to manipulate, at that moment you are not in the light. But it can happen and that doesn't mean being good or bad. Acting, in fact, can also be connected with a person's karma and precisely follow what is required by this spiritual law.

Light and darkness, as in the human world, are also reflected in the world of spirits and even in this case they do not absolutely determine the condition of goodness or badness. Spirits, who in the light can be protectors, guides or allies, can also move in the dark dimension.

And if we think like the natives that everything has a spirit and that it can move between light and darkness, we can understand how there can be spirits that are particularly powerful and able to move very strong energies such as to create an effect in ordinary reality.

It is important to know the distinction between light and shadow because, from an early age, we were educated to separate the good from the bad, the right from the wrong, but for this we have become very sensitive when it comes to going to work on our shadows. As I told you, light and shadow are states of being that we all have within us. Working with shadows doesn't mean black magic, witchcraft or whatever. Simply observe the aspects of light and be able to deal with those of shadow as well. Light and darkness are two sides of the same coin that it is important to integrate.

Being half Latin, therefore leaning towards a culture extremely linked to its roots and above all to the relationship with mental spirits, it isn't difficult for me to understand this concept, and therefore despite being a Christian, I have no problem in defining myself as a witch. Of course, coming to this awareness wasn't easy, as I am partly European and therefore I grew up in a society in a Western society that is scared of what it cannot control. After years of researching my origins, my culture and theological studies, I have come to find my balance.

Returning, however, to the main reason for this post, having made the necessary explanations (and given the tools for a critical analysis of the matter), here are the points on which I personally disagree and why:

Reading books about witchcraft: Knowledge for educational purposes is by no means negative, quite the opposite. The question is whether the aforementioned "about witchcraft" book is a "spell book" or some sort of "sacred book". For example, if I find the Necronomicon tomorrow and start reading it without knowing what it is, it is likely that I will find myself living the remake of The Conjuring in the real life.

Casting most types of spells, including hexes: Same speech made in the previous point. One of the first rules of witchcraft is "know your practice". You must be aware that what you are doing is not a game and every action has consequences, even if you don't believe in the rule of 3 (everything you do comes back to you 3 times). In the specific case of curse and hexes spells, they are the most treacherous and dangerous, because you are working with dark and malevolent energies. This type of practice in particular is a double-edged weapon, which is why many witches advise against them and propose alternative methods if possible.

Practicing divination: It isn't always negative, but in some types of divination the help and guidance of spirits and divinities is sought. For example, I often do bibliomancy with the bible and even if I first ask for God's guidance, in front of each answer I ask for confirmation, because the devil was the most beautiful angel in heaven and just as darkness does not allow us to see. where we go, even a dazzling light can deceive us.

Playing with Ouija or other talking boards: Ouija is not a game and it is an extremely dangerous tool, precisely because what you do is contact spirits and entities and you cannot know who will answer the other side. Nothing good anyway.

Putting up fantasy or non-Christian artwork: Have you ever seen Annabel? Here, the principle is the same. Be careful what you bring into your home, as home is a sacred space, and nothing can enter without you giving it permission. So if you not only invite it, but rather you bring it inside and give it a space, don't come and complain to me if it is difficult to send it away.

Celebrating pagan holidays: If it's a holiday of a closed religion, avoid ruining your life. Holidays basically consist of performing rituals that often involve spirits. Learn about the history of that holiday you want to celebrate, the symbols, the rituals, and why it is celebrated in that particular way.

Celebrating Halloween: The same as the previous point, except that we all (or almost all) know that samahin is the day when the space where the veil falls and the two worlds come into contact.

Watching scary movies and TV shows: I'm not saying that if you watch The Exorcist you will be possessed, but I can't assure you otherwise either. I took The Exorcist as an example because it is known that a real ritual is performed in the movie and a lot of "disturbing" things have happened on the set of the film and to the actors. When you watch a movie, even if it is fictional, if for example it performs an evocation or a ritual you are not only witnessing, you are participating in all respects. Be careful, every person is different.

Reading (horror novels, fantasy books, comics and graphic novels). Playing (tabletop RPGs, LARP games, video games): Same as the previous point.

Listening to heavy metal music, dancing: It goes for any kind of music actually. Do you know how many pop songs I use as a spell?

Dyeing your hair: I'm not saying you'll invoke a demon, but for many cultures cutting your hair makes you more vulnerable to spiritual attack and color is an essential aspect of witchcraft.

Swearing: Wishing someone who has crossed your path death is considered a curse in all respects. Even if done unconsciously.

Drinking: Drinking, smoking… shamans have used alcohol and drugs for centuries to connect with in the spiritual world.

Having tattoos and piercings: As long as you don't tattoo Aramaic words that you don't know the meaning of, everything is fine. Before getting a tattoo in a symbol you saw in a temple in Mexico, find out the meaning of it. I'll give you an example: my cousin once bought a T-shirt with the words "puta madre" (mother whore). He had bought it only because he liked it, without knowing the meaning of the word.

Now, most of these points are mainly related to intention. As I said before, I often use music in my spells, but if for example, I use "can't be touch by Roy jones" for a protection and encouragement spell (eg a manifestation) and a few months later I listen to the same song on the radio doesn't mean it will work like a spell again. In many cases it is a question of intention. Yhat's why it is important to educate yourself.

#witch #christian witch #afro witch #green witch #witchraft #education #educate yourself #witchblr #witchy things #spirit #ghost #demon

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secretshinigami · 4 years ago

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routine and soft eyes

Author: @hazblogs For: @beyondplusultra Pairings/Characters: nearmellomatt, mention of lawlight Rating/Warnings: T, mentions of Mello’s scar Prompt: Wammy House kids sleepover (A, B, L can be included, can be AU) Author’s notes: I had so much fun with this !!! soft bois…. thank you to anyone who reads it !!

Mello is positively fuming. Someone (who shall not be named, though if you want to know it starts with “N” and ends with “-ate River”) just got on top of Forensic Science and Investigative Skills and History of Crime and the Justice System. Those are Mello’s topics. They’re the best at these and they always have been (in the two years they’ve studied here. But that’s long enough, right ?), so the fact that Mister Nobody just came in and stole their turf… That’s infuriating. To top it all off, the dean did them dirty and assigned someone to the second bed in their room, knowing full well that they need that second bed for Matt. This week is just a pile of flaming shit.

As they swing the door open they are greeted by the beeping sounds usually coming from Matt’s bed, a comforting electronic melody. Matt doesn’t even turn around to raise his middle finger to protest against how loud Mello is, but that’s also common practice around here, so no worries.

“Heard you got your ass beat,” Matt says a while later, Mello’s hand carding through his strawberry-green hair. “By the newbie no less. How’re you taking it ?”

“Matt, my hand is dangerously close to your eyes and you need those to play on that stupid console. Better not risk it.”

“Like you’d ever hurt me,” Matt grumbles, and the certainty with which he speaks makes their heart pulse just a little faster. Mello is hopelessly in love, aren’t they ?

The rest of the evening is quiet save for that same musical background, a welcome white noise as Mello finishes their essay for Writing Comedy. The teacher seems to have some trouble with their rather macabre humour so they try to tone it down for once - rather unsuccessfully.

“Also heard you’ll have a roommate,” Matt continues a few hours later as they prepare for bed - gotta put some moisturiser on that scar like a damsel doing her skincare routine, the doctor said, “or you’ll experience how actually painful it can be”. Talk about being threatening…

“I heard. I can kick them out.” Mello would do it. Without remorse, even.

“I can sleep in your bed too,” Matt offers. “But only if you promise not to kick me out from under the covers every single night.”

“Okay, first of all, fuck off, and secondly, why the hell would I want someone else to room with me ? You’re already here. You’ve always been here.”

“And I always will be, Mels. Just… I think it’s time you get out of your shell a little bit, you know ? You can’t keep pretending that talking to me twice every day and ignoring Linda a couple times a week is enough friendly interaction for the little pea inside your coconut.” Mello turns away from the mirror, moisturiser in hand, and sends a glare to Matt who sighs and raises his hands in defeat. “Don’t say I didn’t try ! Think about it, okay, Mello ?”

They do think about it. The whole night. They don’t sleep - it’s not because Matt snores but that’s the excuse they’ll use. Ever since the accident and the scar, people have usually been too impressed - or scared - by them to even consider starting a casual conversation. Matt was there even before, and he probably always will be, Linda is a weirdo who wants to draw them with a ponytail, and… Well, that’s it. Mello lives for schoolwork, to be the best and hope to right some of the wrongs in this world.

“Yo, Mihael,” the dean says when he sees them in front of his office the following morning. Lawliet is a TA at their university, still haunting the dorms. He has a creepy smile under his stupid raccoon eyes and he keeps using Mello’s birthname, like it makes any more sense to call them with that than to call them “xXx_sexy_blondie_xXx”, or however you pronounce that out loud.

“Lawliet. I saw you assigned me a roommate.”

“I did,” he smiles still, like there’s a joke Mello doesn’t get.

“Why ?” Mello would actually like to know - Lawliet never does anything at random.

“You’ll see when he arrives later today,” is the cryptic answer, and Mello sneers at their stupid fucking dean as they leave for their 8am lecture.

Because yes, multiple things are out to get their skin - though they won’t be deterred.

The day goes by in a flash, Screenwriting and Poetry being two of their most interesting classes, and by the time they’ve finished their Crime Prevision and Prevention homework at the library, the sun is well on its way down. Mello walks slowly to the dorms, enjoying the warm air - it’s still only September and winter hasn’t come yet. The music blasting from their headphones is a perfect background to the chill atmosphere, a few bird silhouettes dark against the wonderfully peach clouds. In a few minutes they’ll kiss Matt and they’ll eat a bite, and they’ll sleep knowing they’re safe now.

When they arrive in front of their room, a few cardboard boxes occupy the entrance. Shit fuck hell, they’d forgotten the roommate arrived today. All they can see from where they’re blocked from entering is a white blob of hair on top of baggy clothes, perched on the desk and looking at whatever Matt is playing.

“Uh, I’m supposed to be able to enter my own room,” Mello kind of yells. Only kind of. “Would you please not be a giant stupid bother before I even get your name ?”

“Sorry,” the snowball says, not looking sorry at all. “I’m Nate River.”

“But you can call him Near ! He plays retro games, which isn’t… let’s say it’s not my strong point, but I’m sure it’ll go well, we’re three whole weirdos with weirdo nicknames !”

Mello blinks. Near is still here. They blink again. Near is still here, looking a little like a frog with his lopsided smile, a hand playing with one of his curls. Mello blinks a third time and doesn’t expect Near to have packed his things and go, but that was a close call.

“Are you fucking kidding me,” they mutter. “Lawliet is gonna get killed.”

“You actually know enough about criminology to not be caught, so go you.” Near is smirking. Mello wants to cry. “But I would advise against it, because he’s dating that twink Light Yagami, the alumni who came last week to give the presentation about the War on Drugs and its consequences. He’s a police lieutenant now.”

“Called it !” Matt raises a fist in victory, taking five years from Mello’s lifespan. “Anyway, now that you’re here, please do help us with the last boxes. We’ve been setting up Near’s compy and it’s revoltingly difficult.”

“I will not- how can you ask me to- I’m gonna commit arson and this time I promise I’ll succeed !”

“Dramatic bitch,” Matt says jovially. “Just come in and drop your stuff, apparently someone from the ADA thing comes tomorrow to make sure the room is accessible with a crutch and to help Near settle in.”

Mello just now notices that Near isn’t fully standing up - he’s propped on the desk, a mechanical knee peeking through the bottom of his shorts. This changes nothing - though Mello feels the both grim and hopeful sense of community that disabled people get when they meet. Their ear still works wonky and their eye ? Not the sharpest either. Without talking about all the skin damage, the phantom pain, the- hell no, they won’t get into “reflective mode” without having eaten dinner first.

Reluctantly, Mello spends the rest of the evening avoiding Near as Matt and them help him settle in, surprised by the small amount of belongings he actually has - most of the boxes he brought are board games and hundreds of little kapla sticks. Is Near planning to recreate the Golden Bridge ? He looks like a nerd, maybe it’ll be the Death Star.

Routines are a persistent thing, and before they know it, Near has managed to get a small space - small, they insist - in Mello’s well-oiled machinery. He eats breakfast with Matt, a meal that Mello forgoes entirely, and he goes on unfortunate walks to his PT appointments, because he’s out of money from whatever government organism gives benefits to disabled people and can’t afford a cab. Mello thinks they should get into it a little more, maybe call their case worker, because ramen tastes worse and worse when you have it for every meal of the week. And then Near and Matt start talking about something or another, especially topics that annoy Mello, or Near gets a little too close to them while they both work on their assignments at their desk, his elbow barely brushing Mello’s side. It makes them shiver, but they will ignore that, thank you very much.

Another routine - bedtime - has gotten a little different. One single bed is enough for “one person and a half”, according to Matt, so the obvious solution to them being three in a two single beds room is to push the beds together.

“And now you have a perfect three people beddery !” Matt triumphantly declared. “Mello, you sleep in the middle.”

“Why am I in the middle ?” they protested. “It’s the least comfortable !”

“Oh well, we can take turns,” Near had snarked, knowing full well that the first one of them to sleep in the middle would have to accept defeat.

Mello does end up in the middle, Matt cuddled against their left side where the burn is, and Near an ever-closer presence against their right arm. It’s not as uncomfortable as they expected. Near doesn’t snore and he smells like minty toothpaste, a strangely comforting scent that lulls Mello to sleep way more easily than the five thousand melatonin pills they take before going to bed.

Oh well, maybe Lawliet can live a little longer. His boyfriend - Matt saw them kissing through the peephole, it’s official now - won’t have any (more) reasons to put Mello behind bars.

Near gets on top of International Law and keeps wearing strangely baggy clothes everywhere - or well, everywhere but in the dorms. Mello has time to get used to that mechanical knee, even asking a few questions about phantom pains on the days Matt is away and the itching gets unmanageable. Near is quiet like snow but they’re nothing alike in warmth, grey eyes like molten metal setting on Mello’s face and crinkling in a smile.

And it works wonders. One time they get a bad mark (for their standards) and they even study with Near for extra credit, a presentation about the death penalty that lasts about three quarters of the two hours class. The teacher gives them both full marks and Matt celebrates by crushing them both against his chest, the smell of motor oil and mint so comforting that Mello closes his eyes, just for a little while.

It’s winter before they have time to think about it, and finals go by in a blur of “no sleep, no food, no distractions”. They even manage to end up at the nurse’s office when they faint during the Criminology Theory exam, forced to drink sugar water until the world stops exploding in a million tiny stars when they move their head.

Mello thinks that surviving their last winter exam session ever - they should be able to find a job with a double Master’s degree in Criminology and Creative writing, right ? - deserves a celebratory nap and they sprawl on the bed as soon as they’re back from the last stupid oral presentation they have to do about stupid Foundations of Criminal Justice. Near is not in the room - which is weird, because he finished five minutes and thirty six seconds before them - and Matt is away for the day to try and get his internship at the garage, so they have the full three-person bed, and they fully intend to enjoy the luxury.

They enjoy it so much that they fall asleep, only noticing that time has passed because before they blinked, it was day, and it is now very much nighttime. Light giggles fill the room along with the muted light from Near’s bedside lamp, and Mello takes the time to relish in the quiet atmosphere. Hushed conversation rises from near the desk, giggles and the smell of hot chocolate both making Mello sit up at last.

“Lookit you ! Sleeping beauty arises. Though I haven’t kissed you yet,” Matt smiles, and he climbs on the bed to press his lips against Mello’s. “Love you,” he whispers as he pulls away and goes back to slump on Near’s shoulder.

At first, Near felt like an intruder each time Matt kissed them, but he’s become so embedded in their life that Mello doesn’t feel any awkwardness anymore - to the point where not including him has become the cause of their inner turmoil.

Because yeah, uh, there’s that. Near in a tank top and booty shorts, prosthetic being painted on by a very enthusiastic Matt, has become the new image they conjure up each time the need to strangle someone arises. And poof, instant peace. Discreet touches, Near sleeping fully cuddled against their right side now, Matt nosing through Near’s hair just after he’s washed it because his strawberry shampoo smells divine, Mello even going as far as ruffling Near’s hair without warning, just to see his little nose scrunch up… All that has become routine too, and suddenly the change is too big to go by unmentioned.

They’ve managed to hold on to their feelings until then but as Matt starts talking again, Near’s smile is a little too tight - though his eyes sparkle, it’s like… something’s missing.

“Emergency mee-ee-ting,” they yawn, the skin around their left eye crinkling up painfully. Near notices and doesn’t even ask before grabbing the petroleum jelly tube and throwing it rather inaccurately at their face. See, that’s what they were talking about, Near has just become… there, in the way Matt is there even when he’s asleep in another part of the universe where Mello can only hope to ever go to. “We gotta talk shit out.”

“Are you over your gay crisis yet ?” Matt asks, eyes calm and open, sipping hot chocolate with noisy slurps that Mello doesn’t bother mentioning anymore. His green hair looks more and more red as time passes, which is a strange feat of hair dye conspiracy. “Can we go back to playing ?”

“I haven’t even talked !” Mello protests. “I just really think it’s necessary to mention that…”

They don’t know how to continue that sentence. Near is looking at them with something strangely akin to hope, and Matt still has that infuriating openness about him like he just knows Mello so well he doesn’t need to be told what they feel.

Near doesn’t, though, and he matters enough to Mello now for them to want to include him in the little bubble as well.

“I just think it’d be cool if we shared the secret chocolate stash with Near,” is what comes out of their mouth.

Well done caporal, please die of shame now.

“Mels, wow, that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said !” Matt’s voice drips with amusement - devoid of any mean spirit, they should add, because Matt is the one thing Mello knows is good in this world. And well, maybe there’s a second one they’ve stumbled on, and they want Near to know that he means a lot to them too.

“I mean it !” Mello whines. “He’s one of us now. I think we can share.”

“Mello. Please realise that I’ve been flirting with you this entire time,” comes Near’s deadpan answer. “The time I told you I wanted to braid your hair ? The time I made you sleep and finished the presentation alone because you’d gotten the flu and I hate being sneezed on ? The fact that Matt literally sits in my lap half the time, and only half because the other is spent on your lap ?”

“Okay, first of all, fuck off with me getting the flu.”

“You’re avoiding my question.” Near looks stubborn, and it’s a good look on him.

When did Mello start to think Near looks good ? “I, uh. I may be slightly romantically obtuse. Has Matt told you the time when-”

“-he kissed you and you thought he wanted to practice smooches for his secret best friend, because of course you wouldn’t be his best friend ?”

Utterly mortified, Mello can feel their cheeks become bright red. “Well, uh. Enough mushiness for tonight. Just pass me the chocolate, Matt, I’m starving.”

Matt giggles and throws a Kinder Egg at their face. Near munches on the leftover shell while Mello assembles the toy, and it’s peaceful - and happy, too, so when Mello raises a hand to their scar they smile still, in spite of their involuntary shiver.

#fanfiction #death note #submission #nearlymellodramattic #nearmattmello #lawlight mention #near #matt #mello #hazblogs #beyondplusultra #Mello's Birthday Mayhem 2020

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snowdice · 5 years ago

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Gaps in His Files (Part 14) [Relabeled; Refiled Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan/Patton

Characters:

Main: Logan, Patton

Appear: Remy, Virgil (but only in the epilogue)

Summary:

Logan Berry has learned many things the last 10 years: a lot of math and physics, a bit of humility, and how to be a hero being just a few. Through his education, his experience teaching, and his exploits as the superhero Bluebird, he’s changed in a lot of small and large ways. He has recorded these changes in well-organized documents and files. He’s even had to create two new file designations: a red one for files about his moonlighting at Bluebird, and a light blue one dedicated to his boyfriend, Patton.

When Bluebird is targeted by a memory device and all of those 10 years of progress suddenly disappear, Patton Sanders and Logan’s extensive files are left as his only resource to get those memories back. But what is Patton supposed to do when there are clear gaps in his files? And what does he do when he is one of them?

This is set 25 years before Sometimes Labels Fail though it’s story is completely independent of it and it is not necessary to read that one first.

Notes: Superhero AU, memory loss, past child abuse, past child neglect, unhealthy ideas about ones place in relationships, emotional suppression, self-deprecating thoughts, medical procedures mentioned, very brief unhealthy views of sex

They’re so dumb... just... so... dumb.

Note that I just posted Part 13 a minute before this!! Read that first!!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

When Patton arrived back at his apartment for the first time since Tuesday afternoon (though it felt like it had been much longer), he decided to finally take Remy’s advice. He grabbed a tub of ice cream, sat down on his couch, and just cried for about two hours before he finally fell asleep. He woke to the sound of frantic knocking on his door. Rubbing his eyes, he stumbled to the door and opened it.

“Put this on!” was the first thing the person on the other side of the door said, thrusting a hanger with a white bag covering its contents at Patton.

“Wha?” Patton asked as Logan shoved his way into the apartment.

“We’re going to be late,” Logan stressed. “We can’t be late, Patton!”

“Late for what? Logan what?” God Patton shouldn’t have left him alone. What was he thinking?

“I forgot about the reservations. How could I forget about the reservations, Patton?”

“Logan?” Patton said cautiously. “Are you okay?”

“I am perfectly well, but we need to be to the park by 6, and I have just remembered all of the ways this could go wrong!” As he spoke, he ripped the bag off his own black suit and hung the other hanger up on Patton’s coat closet door before starting to strip out of his trousers.

Patton paused, hopeful. He seemed… more confused than he had been since he’d lost his memories, but… “You remember something?” he asked softly.

“Oh, I remember everything,” he said waving his hand through the air absentmindedly, standing in the middle of Patton’s apartment in his underwear as he grabbed the dress pants and started to struggle into them.

“You remember?” he asked.

“Yes, yes, the coffee shop, the surgery, the dates, you staying over at my place 81.3% of the time because it’s closer to the hospital, the fact that you leave dried up pens all over my living room,” he blathered as he finished fastening the pants. Once he was done with that, he stepped toward Patton and grabbed his face in his hands. “The fact that you will never go along with my plans without some form of argument. Put the suit on Patton!”

Patton gapped at him for a moment before his mouth slammed shut, his hands clenched at his sides, and his eyes started to well with tears. “Maybe lead with that next time,” he spat.

Logan did that double blink thing he did when he was particularly startled by Patton. “Apologies love, you are correct of course,” and oh, how was Patton supposed to stay mad at that? Patton softened, and, when he titled his head up to look him in the eyes, Logan pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I think we may have a lot to talk about,” Logan said softly, and oh. Oh right. Patton hadn’t really thought though the possible consequences of his outburst now that Logan remembered everything. “But right now, we have somewhere we really need to be. I’ve bought you a suit that will look very pretty on you. Will you please put it on for me, love?”

Patton nodded, brain a whirlwind of emotions, but he got another quick sweet kiss out of it that steadied him enough to do as he asked.

The next thing Patton knew, he was literally flying out of his apartment. Logan said it was the only way they’d make it to wherever they were going on time.

Not wanting to be seen, Logan had to land them a couple of blocks away from the busy park in one of the city’s closer suburbs. He kept looking at his watch as he towed Patton by the hand toward the center of the park

“Um, Logan,” Patton said, “it looks like we aren’t supposed to be here. There aren’t any people and it’s blocked off by rope.” He pointed to said rope with his free hand while trying to tug at the hand in Logan’s grip to make him stop.

He paused and turned to Patton. “Dear, please, in,” he glanced at his watch, “five minutes and 53 seconds, I will be happy to do anything you say, but will you just do as I ask for a little under six minutes?”

“I…fine.”

“Good,” Logan proceeded to pull him towards a blocked off area near the base of the fountain. He searched the ground for something and then pointed at a bit of glow-in-the-dark paint. “Stand there,” he said, and Patton did, shooting him a confused look. “Now face me.”

“Okay…”

Logan took a deep breath now that they were in position. “And with over 30 seconds to spare,” he breathed.

“I still have no idea what’s happening,” Patton pointed out.

“I know,” he replied. “I was supposed to have more than 30 seconds. I was going to walk you slowly through the park and buy you a flower from the vender down the street. I was going to distract you enough that you didn’t even notice the ropes blocking people from this spot, but life got in the way. I should have expected it with you being a doctor and me being me. We have busy lives, difficult lives that get in the way a lot of the time. And you said some things the last few days that worry me and we’re going to have to talk about it and where it came from, but I would like to talk about it. Actually, I insist you talk to someone about it even if it isn’t me. Because our lives are complicated and messy and neither of us are perfect in general or even for each other. But maybe that doesn’t matter because despite all of that, we still somehow made it here in time and I think that might mean something. Something really, really important.”

“Logan sweetie, whatever’s going on, it’s alright. You need to calm down.”

“This is traditionally not a calm sort of thing from what I understand. Anyway,” he said, looking at his watch. “It’s time.”

“What are-” At that moment, the fountain next to them started up, the little white lights that had already been lit on it shimmering like little stars in the moving water.

Logan went down on to his knees and pulled a ring out of his pocket.

“Oh my god.”

“Will you marry me?”

“I…” Patton said. “I thought you didn’t want to get married.”

“What gave you that impression?” he asked.

“You… I asked you to marry me and you didn’t say yes.”

“You did not ask me to marry you.”

Patton stared at him. “I said I wanted to marry you and you said to give you more time.”

He looked like a very confused puppy on his knees in front of Patton. “Yes, for the planning. We had discussed that you would want a dramatic proposal after you expressed a desire to be married.”

“Wha- When did that conversation happen?” Patton asked.

“Two years and 11 months ago in the park by the hospital when we saw a man perform a song to propose to a woman. I had said that those types of proposals made me uncomfortable and you asked me why as you believed they were romantic. I explained that the receiving party would likely feel pressured to say yes in front of a crowd and that such an act could be manipulative. You said we could compromise and that it would be alright if they’d already said they wanted to be married and the other person did it to make them feel loved and surprise them about the day and type of ring, but not the question. You said that would be your ideal proposal.”

“Logan that was our second date.”

“Yes.”

Patton sighed. “Oh honey, I love you. I think we really need to work on our communication skills, but I love you.”

“I would agree after the last few days,” Logan said. “I also love you very much.”

Patton looked down at him still on his knees… because he was proposing. Right. “Oh! And yes! Of course, yes!”

Logan smiled at him softly and Patton wanted to jump up and down, but he also wanted to cry a bit and maybe sorta wanted to throw up a little and not just from the entire tub of strawberry ice cream he’d eaten a couple of hours ago. But the thing he most wanted was what he could tell he was about to get. Logan put the ring on his finger (Patton made a note to actually look at the thing sometime later) and got to his feet before sweeping Patton up into a kiss.

Patton drew back from the kiss feeling lighter than he had in days though not nearly completely perfect. He looked around himself. “Oh, wow,” he gushed. “This is so pretty! You’re so pretty! I’m so pretty! I love this suit. Oh, can we take pictures somehow before we leave?”

Logan laughed at him softly. “I hired photographers of course,” he informed him, preening a little bit, “They doubtlessly got pictures of the proposal and the kiss. We can have them take more if you’d like.”

“Oh, those are going to be wonderful pictures with us in front of the fountain like this. This is the most perfect thing I could ever imagine. I love you so much.” He started to get a bit chocked up. Logan pulled him into a hug and gee, that was even better than the kiss had been, especially because they didn’t have to pull away to breathe for a hug. Logan never even tried to pull back even though Patton kept him wrapped up in his arms for far longer than most hugs ever went. He just pressed a kiss to the top of his head and rubbed his back until the ache in Patton’s chest eased enough for him to feel comfortable pulling back himself.

(And then Patton goes to therapy for 5 years and they both go to relationship counseling for 2 years as I have mentioned in Labels Shift. I do plan to eventually do at least a one-shot of Patton in therapy, but I wanted to end on a happier note.)

Want to read more? Here’s the Epilogue.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #logicality #tsss #superhero au #memory loss #past child abuse #past child neglect #emotional suppression #self deprecation #gaps in his files #labeled universe #relabeled; refiled #adriana writes

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keyofjetwolf · 5 years ago

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There’s always more show.

Doc’s friend James once described BoJack as a tragedy told by comedians, and I think that may be the most perfectly succinct way to sum up the show. Perhaps there’s nowhere that idea will be better demonstrated than with “Free Churro”, a twenty-one minute and seven second episode (discounting the opening and credits) consisting of a single scene in a single location where BoJack gives a eulogy for his mother in a style more than a little reminiscent of a stand-up routine. It’s a monologue, just BoJack and a coffin and a sometimes musically sarcastic organ player, and it’s about A Lot.

As I think could be said of the show itself, “Free Churro” (the meat of it, anyway) starts on the light side, particularly given its setting. BoJack jokes with his mother, asking questions and telling her to knock once if she agrees, delighting in how wonderful it is to be in a room with her without her telling him to shut up and make her a drink. None of this is particularly new or unexpected. We’ve known BoJack’s relationship with his mother was -- AT BEST -- difficult and complicated, and I’d even go so far as to say this lacks the bite we saw from their relationship at the end of Season 4, where BoJack leaves Beatrice in the shitty nursing home and how, DESPITE EVERYTHING, you’re left sitting with the unanswerable question between what is cruelty and what is consequence. (Or, at least, that’s where it left People Named Jet Wolf Who Are Me.)

That makes sense. Beatrice is dead now, and such things are beyond her (which is not coincidentally the heart of this story). Being dead is the easy part. Whatever ideas we have of what should or shouldn’t happen next are the concerns of the living.

AND OH THE CONCERNS. This is a packed twenty minutes, so much so that it’s nothing short of brilliant, how much it’s able to get in without once feeling rushed or plodding. The pacing is PERFECT, giving the monologue time to breath in just the right moments and following a winding but never rambling road thorugh all the places BoJack is taking us. If I ever manage to write something half as good as this, I will never doubt my writing skills again. (This is of course a complete lie.)

There’s so much to pick apart here, it’s almost difficult to know where to begin. If you single out any one thread, you can begin to unravel the fabric of the episode in new and interesting ways, which can make it tough to choose your target. But I think I’ll largely boil "Free Churro” down to two primary points of focus. BoJack’s Neverending Sitcom, and The Three Horsemans.

BoJack spends a lot of his eulogy (indeed, a “me-logy”, which is the only thing BoJack COULD make it, let’s be real) wondering what his mother’s last words to him meant. “I see you,” she said, and that spins BoJack from beginning to end of this episode, as he wonders the nature of life, of human connection, of poignancy and meaning, of compassion and selfishness. All of which is basically the shit of philosophy we’ve been trying to figure out for thousands of years, so good luck with all that, man. BoJack’s trying to find some sort of reason for it all, for that flash of SOMETHING that makes it all worthwhile. His loveless childhood spent craving his mother’s approval, his disastrous life struggling (but also not) to be a good person, his anger and resentment that never seem to fade, until this moment where -- if this were just a TV show -- everything would be For A Reason and Turn Out Okay.

Only this isn’t a TV show (I know but keep with me) and nobody’s scripting life. People are who they are, and they do what they do, and sometimes there’s nothing any deeper than that.

That isn’t satisfying. There has to be more.

BoJack continues on, seguing from one story to another. Some of them are real. Some of them aren’t. One of the things I find so interesting in BoJack’s character is his desperate, downright PALPABLE need to be loved, and his belligerent unwillingness to do anything to earn it. A cornerstone of BoJack’s sense of self demands that he is either loved unconditionally or not at all, creating a scenario in which he can never lose OR win. If someone accepts him as-is without question or judgment and never leaves his side no matter how awful he is, then the problem all along was his parents, who were just never good enough people and didn’t deserve him anyway. And if people keep demanding he change and ultimately leave him, then he’s fundamentally broken as a person, the damage done was too great, and that’s all his parents’ fault.

We see the scars of all this as he tries to decipher his mother’s last words. “I see you.” Was she saying she understands who he is and what she put him through? Is it a shared moment of recognition, acceptance of him as her son, there for her at the end of her life despite everything? Just a simple acknowledgement that he is a person, someone of substance and presence, worthy of at least the most basic validation and mark of existence?

No. Finally it clicks. Intensive care unit. ICU.

Reading a sign, as BoJack has spent all this time and effort trying to do. Beatrice has remained unknowable for BoJack his entire life, and she leaves, giving him precisely no more than the the life he still possesses. Exactly no more or less. It’s his, to do with whatever he wants, to read into it whatever he wants.

AND IT STILL COULD BE

The problem for BoJack is that, all this time, it’s been his decision. He’s 54 years old, he’s now lived twice the life he would have spent as his parents’ responsibility. Even here, in this moment, he STILL can’t know what his mother meant when she said “I see you.” It’s HIS CHOICE to take it literally. Finally, he’s in a room where she can’t tell him to shut up and make her a drink, and he’s still writing her dialogue to dismiss him.

“There’s always more show,” BoJack says, as the reason why a sitcom can never really have a happy ending. It’s never allowed to end, because there’s always more show.

Until there isn’t. This show, The BoJack and Beatrice Comedy Hour, is done. BoJack is free to write whatever ending he wants, and this is what he chooses. He could be free, and instead, his mother is dead, and everything is worse now.

#ONWARD TO THE SECOND POINT #jet wolf watches bojack

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diyunho · 5 years ago

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The Joker x Reader - “John Wick” Part 3

Y/N left The Organization 3 years ago for the one reason strong enough to make her settle down: love. But after tragedy crushed her to pieces, she decided to leave The Joker and seek refuge with an old friend and mentor - John Wick. Needless to say The King of Gotham can’t accept his wife running away without a word, especially since he didn’t have a chance to tell her things she might want to hear.

Part 1 Part 2

The Joker listens at the bedroom’s door, impatient to have a conversation with you. It seems you are engaged into a fervent phone call with Winston and figured he shouldn’t interrupt.

“Please, anything you can discover would be a great help! U-hum… U-hum… Thank you,” and you hang up, which queues your husband to walk into the room.

You completely ignore him, scrolling through the numerous text messages you sent to your connections; several are already answering back and hopefully you can get some news soon. The more people are involved into the project, the more chances to find Kase and untangle the mystery of what happened to him after he was removed from the car.

“You left me there,” The Joker sneaks in and closes the door behind him. “Luckily we had Wick with us so he gave me a ride.”

No reaction. He takes a deep breath, trying to get your awareness.

“I didn’t sleep with Evelyn; sex wasn’t the reason why I kept visiting her. I know how that asshole made it sound and he was totally out of line!”

You quickly glance at him, busy replying to Ares since you feel you’re going to explode soon.

“The only skill I was interested in is the fact that she is an excellent painter and a popular art smuggler, OK?” J raises his voice, sort of annoyed you neglect to participate into his monologue. “I did not cheat, alright?” he approaches his wife. “First of all: I’m VERY picky! Second of all: why would I want a woman everyone else had?! I don’t like used toys. Third: nobody’s been polishing my gun as you tastefully addressed the issue! I have one Queen and I married her!!”

A little bit of doubt in your eyes and he utilizes the opportunity.

“You said you saw me going to her house? I did! The Bowery King asked if it was for the last 6 months? Yeah, I did! You know why?!”

At least now The Joker got your attention: you play it cool but he guesses you’re torn apart by his confession.

Many unfortunate events crammed in lately and hating the man you love made life infinitely more unbearable.

“Why…?” you barely muster the strength to inquire and he sees it as a possibility to mend a few broken pieces; although you can hide your emotions well, J can still read between the lines.

Maybe that’s why he answers with another question:

“Do you realize there are just three Monet paintings in circulation on the black market in the entire world? You admire his work and it took a lot of effort and a substantial fortune to acquire The Water Lily Pond painting. Evelyn Black helped with the transaction, then I had her make some modifications to the original masterpiece.”

You keep staring at The King of Gotham, uncertain about the stuff being tossed your way: is he lying or telling the truth?... In your line of work translating feelings is a huge part of the job; ultimately you had the best mentor to teach you the ropes when you started with the organization: none other than the legendary Baba Yaga. Despite his reputation and to your own amazement, John was one of the few hitmen with integrity and perfectly mastered the aptitude of not being a jerk. Such a rare gem… And blissfully unaware of it himself.

On the opposite end, The Joker is a jerk and flawlessly acquainted with his own “captivating” personality that made you fall in love with him anyway.

Also, doesn’t appear to be deceitful for the moment.

And you despise yourself even more for wanting to believe him.

“What… modifications?...” you throw him a bone and J is definitely not going to pass on the alternative of explaining his actions.

“I wanted to surprise you so I took advantage of Miss Black’s capabilities in the art field; I had her add small images to the authentic canvas: an evolution of you being pregnant, the nine frames culminating with a tenth: the new mother holding our son. Similar to a timeline,” he emphasize and you look intrigued, which might be a positive sign. “Needless to say it was tedious, difficult work, especially because she had to apply special pigments you can’t find at every corner of the street. Apparently you can’t mix old paint with contemporary shades, thus I had to order aged, special colors from Italy, Spain and France. That’s why I went to her place so often: I had to supervise the long process and make sure it turns out astonishing. Then…” and The Joker pauses,”…Kase was gone and I didn’t know what to do with my gift: bring it home or not? Would you have loved it? Would it make you sadder? I continued to drive to Evelyn’s and glare at the stupid painting for hours, undecided on what to do…”

J watches you bite on your cheek, then straightens his shoulders as you utter the words:

“… … … You ruined a genuine Monet?”

Your spouse might be a smooth talker when needed, yet he’s not wasting his versatility on this statement:

“I didn’t ruin it; I made it better!”

Silence from both parties. A good or bad omen? Hard to decipher the riddle with two individuals tangled into a relationship that somehow worked despite countless peculiarities meant to keep them apart.

“I have to talk to Jonathan,” you finally mutter and The Joker steps in front of you.

“Talk to me!”

“Unless you know the exact location of the suitcase full of gold coins he’s been safekeeping for me, I really have to speak to him. Or do you want to hammer the whole basement searching for it?”

Y/N walks out of the bedroom and J lingers inside, evesdropping on the conversation happening downstairs. He can’t understand the chat, but you are probably notifying John about the details your husband left out.

Might as well join the party, therefore The Clown pops up in the living room with a plea impossible to refuse:

“Hey Wick, can I stay here? I don’t care if you say no, I’m not going to leave.”

Your friend crosses his arms on his chest, focusing on the random topic:

“How could I deny such a polite request? Of course you can stay Mister Joker; my house is your house.”

You’re watching the free show unamused; usually it would make you smile…now you lack the depth for such connotations.

“Don’t get smart with me, Wick!” J growls and Jonathan pushes for a tiny, unnecessary quarrel.

“I’m not; although generally speaking, I fancy considering myself a smart guy.”

The Joker opens his mouth and you’re not in the mood for whatever the heck they’re initiating:

“I’m going to pump, then after you dig out the suitcase I’ll take half to the Bowery King,” you announce your plans to them.

“You can do that and rest; I’ll deliver the coins,” John immediately offers. “I can stop by Aurelio’s car shop and ask for his collaboration: he has a lot of associates, doesn’t hurt to get him involved. You have plenty of gold.”

“I have two more suitcases in the Continental’s safe and two more at The Penthouse. It doesn’t matter if it’s all gone as long as I can find my son.”

“I know gold coins are preferred; don’t forget we have a lot of money too,” J reckons with spite.

Is he reminding you or Jonathan?...

*************

Your husband spent the last hour in the garden, talking and texting with a lot of people; needless to mention he’s capitalizing on his network also. Winston disclosed Stonneberg’s contract is still opened, meaning the son of a bitch is out there; you have to scoop him before anybody else does.

“Y/N…” The Joker tiptoes in your quarters. “I thought you were taking a nap,” he huffs when he sees you at the edge of the bed.

You glare at the vial on the nightstand, sharing your idea for a future you wish will come true:

“I didn’t have my medicine in two days; I won’t take it anymore because if we get Kase back… I will nurse him. It all goes in the milk and I want to be able to feed my baby… Do you think his little heart is still beating?...” you sniffle and J is currently debating on a clever response since his mind is blank; one could deduce messing up is encoded in his DNA, but on such a huge scale… well, it gives new interpretations to the term even for him.

The grieving woman seeking reassurance for their loss is trying to make sense of the pointless occurrences that lead to Kase being an innocent victim and The Joker can’t render clarification: he has no clue why he asked her to marry him and why she said yes, it’s not that he’s husband material or a family man. Perhaps Y/N thought he could be… just enough to get by, that’s why she accepted his proposal.

Most women would have cringed at the concept. Most women. Not Y/N.

Most women would have flinched at the notion of having his baby. Most women. Not his wife.

Above all, she trusted J with their son and he treated the three weeks old like a trinket: didn’t drive him home because he had an important meeting, didn’t bother to assign escorting cars nor extra security. The King of Gotham took his child’s safety lightly and it definitely had severe consequences. Too late now to fix past mistakes... but he can attempt.

“You’ll be able to nurse him, OK?” he sits by you and hands over his cell. “Can you enter your phone number in here? Or am I not allowed to have the present digits?”

You’re hesitant and he slides the screen while you hold the gadget.

“Lemme help you,” The Joker sarcastically mumbles. “It should be the first on my list, right where the old number you canceled was.”

You exhale and fulfill his demand out of pure frustration when he squeezes in a second innocent petition.

“Chose my avatar.”

You grunt at his rubbish, scrolling through his folders for a picture anyway; J hopes the largest file will get your attention and that’s the point. How could Y/N miss it?!

Entitled “Baby”, the humongous cluster of pics contains 5,723 items. You open it quite absorbed by its size; what’s more puzzling is the collection depicting Kase’s ultrasounds, hundreds of frames with you being pregnant taken without you knowing: there’s a few when your ankles were so swollen you had to sleep with your feet up on 4 pillows, others with you munching on strange food you craved, more with you in the shower focused on your bump, a decent amount of couple selfies when you were sleeping and J had to immortalize the moment without waking you up and approximately 1,500 images of the newborn.

“You didn’t gross me out when you were pregnant,” The Joker reminds a teary Y/N. “Not sure why you would believe such aberration...” he pulls you on his knees and yanks the phone away, tossing it on the nightstand. “I would also like to underline I didn’t have an affair with Miss Black, alright?”

J lifts your chin up, forcing to look at him.

“Let’s put it this way: why would I fuck around with another woman when I have a wife at home that wants to kill me on a regular basis, hm? Where would the fun be? I mean, she didn’t pull the trigger yet but it’s exciting to hope she might. You know me: I’m a sucker for thrills!”

“Do I?”

“Huh?” J steals a kiss and you frown at his sleekness.

“Know you?”

“Yeah,” the green haired Clown acts composed while in fact his feathers are ruffled. Before you catch onto it he has to ultimately admit: “I’m sorry I didn’t drive the car… I should have…”

The Joker holds in his breath when your arms go around his neck very tight.

“I’m suffocating…” he grumbles. “I can’t tell if you’re trying to hug me or choke me to death,” J keeps on caressing your hair, prepared to block your attack in case you’re actually in killing mode.

This is the excitement he was speaking about: with you, one could never know until it’s a done deal.

“I bumped into Magnus at the Continental,” you give him a bit of space to inhale much needed air and The Joker is surprised at your revelation. “I had no idea about his scheme, otherwise I would have skinned him alive right on the hotel grounds! I wouldn’t have cared about the consequences!”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” J cuts you off and he can tell you’re getting mad; maybe you think he doesn’t give a damn but the reason is simple. “You would’ve been declared excommunicado for murder on neutral ground and I don’t want my wife to be the target of such punishment from the company she so proudly retired from. I need my partner!”

The King of Gotham touches your forehead with his as you whisper:

“I hate you!”

“Mmm, regarding this true love affirmation, I’m gonna need you to take a break from detesting me until we have Kase, then you can despise me full throttle again. Deal?” he extends the palm of his hand and you reluctantly shake it, not realizing you’re reacting to his nonsense. “Is that a smile?” J returns the favor with one of his creepy silver grins.

“No.”

“Liar,” he pecks your lips and can’t explain the weird feeling in his heart when you kiss him back.

*************

Jonathan enters the house and becomes suspicious after a few minutes: too much silence.

Omg! Did you and The Joker engaged into a brawling that ended up badly? Did you end each other?!

John frantically runs to the garage, nervous to see your car and J’s are still parked inside. Shit!

“Y/N?” he shouts, concerned about your fate; The Joker’s… irrelevant. Nobody in the garden, patio is empty also. Downstairs is deserted thus he rushes upstairs to your room. The door is not completely shut and he slowly pushes it, knocking.

“Y/N? Can I come in?”

The first thing he notices are clothes scattered on the floor, then he halts his movement at the sight of Y/N and her husband dozing off on the bed sideways: the naked bodies are covered with a blanket, but he can tell you’re snuggled in J’s arms.

Jonathan steps backwards, guilty of invading his guests’ privacy; he certainly didn’t expect to intrude in such a manner and softly closes the door, grateful it’s not what he feared.

You and The Joker are so worn out the sound of your phones vibrating on the nightstand doesn’t wake you from the deep sleep. Your numerous contacts keep replying back to the text messages, the most important one showing up on his cell: one of the people J reached to is Evelyn Black and the two sentence conversation lights up the screen.

“Let me know if you see Stonnenberg.”

“He’s here.”

Also read: MASTERLIST

You can follow me on Ao3 and Wattpad under the same blog name: DiYunho.

#the joker x reader #the joker fanfiction #the joker imagine #john wick imagine #john wick x reader #the joker jared leto #the joker suicide squad #the joker #joker #joker fanfiction #joker jared leto #mister j #Mistah J #Mr.J #dc #dcu

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somethingjustsouthofbrilliance · 6 years ago

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Heartsick (chapter 2)

@tonystark5ever and I are back (finally) with another chapter. (bet you, guys, didn’t see this coming 😉😜)

Link to chapter 1

Here you go, and let us know if anyone wants to be added to the tag.

Chapter Two

“Thank you, doctor,” the nurse says, her tone congratulatory, as Rhodey peels off his sterile gloves, his hands aching and tired with the tight, precise control he had them under for the past eight hours as he performed the delicate surgery.

“Thank you, Cindy.” He allows himself a moment to share a triumphant smile. Rolls his shoulders in an attempt to relax the tension pulling through his neck, shoulders, and back. “Good work, everyone. After a week in the hospital, I think Mrs. Johnson will be going home to be with her grandkids and you helped get her there.”

The surgery was a delicate one; and there was a moment when it was touch and go. In times like that, when he is well aware that someone’s life is literally in his hands to win or lose, he always imagines he can feel death’s presence, a whisper of cold and shadows no matter how brightly lit the operating room.

And it’s natural for him in that moment to feel something like fear. His fear was learned at a steep cost--a six year old that had died on his table nearly ten years ago now. He had been clear about the risks with the family, and the boy surely would have died without the surgery anyway, but Rhodey vividly recalls the moment when the small body under his hands had lost its life force, his little heart too broken to function anymore and beyond Rhodey’s skill to fix. So, unlike some of his colleagues, Rhodey never tried to teach himself to not feel fear. Because fear was warranted. Fear was good. Fear kept him grounded, kept him aware always of the gravity, of the consequences, of the devastation that any and all missteps on his part could bring.

The specter of that child always seems to visit him during difficult surgeries like this one -- a warning or, perhaps, a reminder of sorts. He doesn’t usually examine that too closely. Today, however, it does bring to mind one Tony Stark, who had bumped a child down the list for his own selfish needs. The same Tony Stark still presumably waiting for his consultation.

From a logical standpoint, he knows he should go rest and eat before he attempts it. Hammer did say the boss wanted things nicey-nice with this guy. On the other hand, he feels his irritation is justified, and if he is angry and tired when he goes to meet the guy, it’s probably nothing less than what Stark deserves, considering what Rhodey knows about him.

A small voice in the back of his head warns him that perhaps he shouldn’t be so quick to judge the man based on Justin Hammer’s say-so, that perhaps meeting Tony Stark when he is in this state of mind is not the best idea.

He ignores it. Instead he finds himself growing more and more indignant, wondering who gave Tony Stark the authority to proclaim life or death on those younger and poorer than him. After the euphoria of completing a surgery to save someone’s life, it particularly rankled that this guy, this guy just snaps his fingers, gets a heart, fires Hammer like he owns the place. That’s some kind of entitlement the guys has. Probably just because he had money he thought he should get anything he wanted or needed, and his connections to Pepper Potts (whatever form that took) was only another way he circumvented the system designed to protect people from men like him.

“Nurse? What room is Stark in?” He asked as he stormed onto the busy unit, indignant now.

The nurse raises a surprised eyebrow at the irritation that seeps into his voice. “Room 616,” she responds cautiously, “but I think he’s sleep--”

“Thank you,” he cuts her off with a dismissive wave, pulling up Stark’s chart for a quick review before heading for the room and ignoring the apprehensive call of “Doctor!” aimed at his retreating back.

***

“Mr. Stark!”

He squashes a tiny pang of guilt he feels at the way the man in bed jolts when he shoves open the door to his room hard enough to send a loud rattle through it. Watches as a tousled head turns sluggishly in his direction, two sleepy brown eyes blinking groggily at him from a haggard face. The guy looks sick, Rhodey has to give him that: the unhealthy tint of his skin, the sunken cheeks, the dark bags of exhaustion under his eyes. Still, doesn’t make him any less of an asshole.

“My name is Dr. Rhodes, Mr. Stark. A colleague of mine, Dr. Hammer, asked me to review your case, so I wanted to stop by and chat with you, if you don’t mind.” He gives him a pointed look and Stark reaches over and turns on the light, easing to a sitting position in the bed.

A spark of dark amusement flashes in Stark’s eyes at the mention of the other surgeon, his lips twitching with disdain. “And how is the good doctor Hammer? Has he managed to kill any patients lately?” His voice is raspy with sleep, but his eyes look clear, focused and annoyed.

Yep, Rhodey thinks, his own temper flaring with annoyance, definitely an asshole.

“Doctor Hammer is a renowned and respected surgeon, Mr. Stark, and you would do well to remember that,” he states, voice cold. Then adds in a quiet afterthought, just loud enough for the other to hear, “He was right to warn me about you.”

''Oh, this oughta be good.'' A sharp plastic smile twists Stark's lips. ''Well, by all means, share the good doctor's diagnosis with the class. I'm dying of suspense here.''

''I don’t need his opinion to know that you're ungrateful and entitled,'' Rhodey spits out, picking up the clipboard with Stark's chart to give his hands something to do lest he should lose control completely. ''You physically assaulted the surgeon who saved your life and--''

''Hammer told you that?'' There's a steel note of warning in Stark's voice, a hard glint in his eyes.

Rhodes ignores both.

''He told me enough.”

Stark cocks his head to the side, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I’m sorry, I guess I’m a bit confused, Doctor… Rhodes, is it?” he says waspishly, reading Rhodey’s name tag. “Did you say this was a consult? ‘Cause I kinda get the feeling that I’m on trial here, with you being judge, jury and executioner. How exactly are you qualified? If you’re playing second fiddle to Justin Hammer then I think I’d like to demand a third opinion. There’s gotta be at least one competent surgeon at the Shield Hospital.”

The clipboard creaks dangerously in Rhodey’s grip.

“I see. So Dr. Hammer wasn’t the first or the last. You insult the skills and intelligence of every surgeon tasked with saving your sorry life.” He takes a deep, calming breath. Spits out, disdainful, “Seems he had you pegged right all along. And even if he hadn't warned me, the mere fact that you would push a sick kid down the donor list just so you could get your heart transplant first tells me everything I need to know about your character, Mr. Stark.”

Whatever response Rhodes has been expecting, the confused, quiet murmur of ''What?'' wasn't it. It throws him a bit, makes him wonder for a moment if there isn't something that he's missing here.

But only for a moment.

''Peter Parker's 16 years old,” he hisses, the furious tremble in his voice just barely under control. “A bright kid with a bright future. Which you have stolen from him.''

A momentary flash of a memory flickers in his mind. The bright and promising smile of the six year old that had died ten years ago; that would make him about Peter’s age now. It seemed so wrong, so unfair, another life wasted and lost or at the very least put at risk. He feels the heat of anger in his chest, the dangerous flare of it. Knows it’s time to go before he says or does something he would regret.

He snaps the chart closed with a bang. Tosses it carelessly at the bed, feeling only a tinge of remorse at the way Stark flinches when the clipboard hits him in the chest.

''I think I have all the information I need,'' he sneers, turning away from the man to head toward the door. ''There's a terminally ill organ donor at our partner hospital who's taken a turn for the worst today. I was told to expect the transplant team within the next 48-72 hours. Someone will be back to prep you for surgery then.''

He pauses, one hand already on the door handle. Turns to throw one last glance at Stark, who stares past him with an oddly lost, pensive look in his eyes.

''I'd say it was a pleasure to meet you,Mr. Stark, but I'm not in the habit of lying to my patients. Good day.''

***

Rhodey feels surprisingly better after his altercation with Stark; after all, if he is forced to do a surgery on someone who bumped a kid down the list, he can at least sleep easier having given the bastard a piece of his mind first. He’s a doctor. He’ll do his job and do it well. But he doesn’t have to like it.

He raises his eyebrows in challenge to the nurse as he walks by. There’s a pretty good chance she heard the entire conversation between him and Stark and for some unfathomable reason she appears to be unhappy with him. It doesn’t matter; Stark’s pockets are so deep, there were probably very few people he couldn’t buy or charm. Rhodey just happens to have a bit more integrity than the rest.

He heads to the doctors’ lounge. There was free food, sometimes even good stuff, and he is hungry and tired. He still has to visit the clinic and do some charting. The elation he felt from telling off Stark has settled in his chest, and he stubbornly tells himself it was a good thing. Just. Without the anger he felt in the moment, he kind of, maybe, feels a bit like a jerk about it now. Even remorseful.

The feeling doesn’t last.

He has just finished eating and is washing his hands when he catches a glimpse in the hallway of someone that looks suspiciously like Stark, dressed in hospital issue pajama pants and a hoodie with the hood up. Cardiac ICU patients aren’t allowed to leave the unit, and if it is him, Rhodey will give him hell for it. Imagine thinking so much of yourself that you believe yourself to be above the hospital rules!

It takes him a moment to dry his hands and get out into the hallway, but Stark isn’t moving fast and Rhodey has no trouble tracking him, keeping close enough to follow him to see where the man is going but not so close that Stark would notice his scrutiny.

He slows down, nevertheless, allowing the gap between them to widen a bit, when he suddenly realizes where Stark is headed-- the Pediatric unit. And Rhodey can only think of one reason for Stark to be going that way; it has to have something to do with Parker. A horrible thought occurs to him in that moment: what if Stark plans to threaten or intimidate the boy somehow. What if…?

He clenches his fists, his nostrils flaring. If that’s the case, if Stark tries to pull any crap like that, he’ll kick the guy’s out of this hospital so fast his head would spin. He doesn’t care what Pepper Potts has to say about it.

He loses sight of Stark briefly as the man turns a corner and goes through the double doors leading to the Pediatric Unit. When Rhodes sees him again, Stark is already standing in front of the glassed in playroom, an area where non-contagious children are allowed to go and play or do craft projects to help keep them entertained while they are in the hospital. Several younger kids are in there now, playing with some Legos and stuffed animals. Stark isn’t looking at them, however. His attention seems to be glued to a teenage boy, sitting in the corner and tuning his guitar.

“Who wants to hear a song!” the teen says, and a few of the children exclaim their excitement and bring their toys over as the older boy begins to play.

And it is only then that Rhodey notices the IV hooked to the boy’s arm. So this… this has to be Peter Parker. And Stark just stands there, watching him without the kid noticing. It’s creepy, it’s...

It isn’t.

Stark looks... eviscerated, is the only thing Rhodey can think of. Like someone had sliced open his chest, reached in and crushed his heart. And he can swear there are tears in the man’s eyes. Rhodey doesn’t understand it, any of it. Confused, he moves out of Stark’s line of sight, able to see him though not hear him clearly. He’s curious despite himself, intrigued to see how this will play out.

A curly haired man in a white doctor’s coat approaches Stark a moment later, coming up and shaking his hand. It’s Dr. Banner. Rhodey recognizes him easily enough, he’s met him in a few conferences, spoke to him on several occasions. The man is a pediatric cardiac specialist, doubtless the one taking care of Peter. And that’s reassuring, Rhodey thinks. He’s heard good things about Banner, and he’s had enough interactions with him to know the man’s as good as his reputation claims him to be. He’s also known to be very protective of his patients, and Rhodey wonders if Banner is here to chase Stark out of the Pediatric wing.

Whatever the conversation that’s taking place between them, it’s less than pleasant. Stark looks agitated and Banner appears to be the one on the defensive.

Baffled, Rhodey watches as Banner puts a placating hand on Stark’s shoulder, which the latter brushes off abruptly, turning to gesture at Parker. The noise and movement have attracted some attention, however, and when Stark turns around, he locks eyes with the bright eyed teenager. Peter seems to recognize Stark, and it isn’t the starry-eyed recognition of a celebrity one sees on television or YouTube. No. There’s a warm sparkle in the kid’s eyes that screams familiarity, and Rhodey feels his confusion deepen.

Peter waves happily in greeting, his face lighting up like a Christmas tree, and Stark gives him a weak, forced smile in return, waving and giving him a thumbs up to continue his concert. Peter nods and turns back to the kids, flicking his gaze occasionally back to Stark.

Banner says something again, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. Rhodey can’t make out what it is, but he thinks he hears Pepper mentioned. Stark opens his mouth as if to argue, then suddenly hunches over, as if in pain, his right hand clasped around his chest. Banner steps in closer, his hand gripping the man’s shoulder again. Leans down, concerned. Stark shakes his head as if to dismiss the concern, but interrupts the motion half-way, grips Banner’s arm instead with his free hand, holding on tight.

Banner, looking positively alarmed now, waves over an orderly. But Stark pushes away from him at that moment, straightens out with visible effort, gesturing the orderly away. Rhodey can see Bruce making an urgent argument.

“I refuse,” Stark grits out loudly enough for Rhodey to hear. “You can’t make me.”

Rhodey has had enough.

He pushes himself up to stand, walks over to the two men. “Dr. Banner,” he says in greeting. “Mr. Stark. I’d sure like to know what you’re doing out of your room.” Up close he can’t help but assess his patient’s state and he doesn’t like what he sees. The man is paler than ever, sweat dotting his upper lip and forehead from even the brief walk over.

“Would you?” Stark’s voice is dangerously low, anger etched in his face and fire in his eyes. “Your concern is duly noted, Doctor. But as I recall your services won’t be required for 48-72 hours, so in the meantime feel free to go to hell.”

Offended, Rhodey draws back, his own temper flaring.

Banner looks between them anxiously, one hand nervously pushing the glasses higher up on his nose. “Tony--”

“Save it,” Stark snaps, interrupting whatever it was that Banner was trying to say. “You’re lucky I don’t have every dime of funding for this place withdrawn. You should have told me. I trusted you.”

“Tony, it wasn’t like that--”

“Are you honestly threatening a pediatrician by saying you’re going to take away funding for his patients?” Rhodey interrupts, incredulous. “You’re... unbelievable!”

“You should talk with Hammer some more,” Stark spits out, his eyes almost black against the alarming pallor of his face, “he’ll tell you so many unbelievable things about me, you’ll be able to write a fucking book. Might even get you published.” The pale lips twist in an ugly sneer, Stark pushing closer to the two men. “And since we’re getting along so swimmingly, Dr. Rhodes, you’re officially fired. Now there’s a decision we can all be happy with.”

Too surprised to speak or stop him, Rhodey just watches, stunned, as Stark stalks away, fury coloring his every step. Banner makes a move to go after him, then sighs, frustrated, as his beeper goes off.

“What the hell was that about?” Rhodey demands when he can finally find his tongue again.

“I’d love to tell you all about it but there’s an emergency.” Banner sounds anxious, and somehow Rhodey doesn’t think that unease has much to do with the emergency at hand. “Listen, Dr. Rhodes, Tony Stark is a good man, one the world needs.”

“Needs his money you mean,” Rhodey can’t help the disdain that slips into his voice.

“No.” Banner blinks at him, his brown eyes inexplicably disappointed and... sad. “I don’t mean that. I mean we need Tony. And I’m afraid if you don’t find a way to save him, no one will.”

Rhodey shrugs. “Well he just fired my ass, so....” The thought bothers him for some reason, even though he doesn’t like to admit it.

Banner nods, grim. Turns away, already starting in the direction of the OR. Calls over his shoulder before his steps turn into a hurried jog, “You might think about trying to get yourself unfired, Doctor. If you’ve been listening to anything Justin Hammer has been saying about him… let’s just say you might want to get a second opinion.”

#ironhusbands #ironhusbands au #tony stark #james rhodey rhodes #doctor/patient au #hurt/comfort #angst #bruce banner #peter parker #justin hammer #pepper potts #co-authored work #tonystark5ever #somethingjustsouthofbrilliance writes

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scoutshonor56 · 6 years ago

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Burning Down the House

With a new year upon us, I decided to leave our pouting, petulant, and clueless “president” alone for a while. I’m at the point where I don’t want this blog to become a regular, though fun and cathartic, critique of this moron’s day to day behavior. Besides, who can keep up these days? Certainly I never intended this blog to become solely a political airing of grievances anyways, when started back in November of 2016 - but then, who would have ever envisioned the likes of Donald Trump in the White House?

So today I’m going to address an issue close to my heart; the wellspring that nourishes my spirit and is essential to the health and well-being of every living thing on our planet – the environment. You see, I’m a baby boomer who grew up in the 60’s, and was quite the impressionable 14yr old on April 22, 1970, when the first official Earth Day was proclaimed. That year also saw the creation of the EPA, and like most of us from “back then”, I still hold onto many of the ideals of an aged hippie -

Those who know me also know I later worked for NASA - another touchstone for my generation - at Johnson Space Center, inside the television/communication contract, for 14 years. During that time I got to watch the Space Station being built piece by piece, from when the first module, Zarya, went up on a Russian Proton rocket, to the first crew occupation, to its successful completion.

I still pay attention to our space program as a tax paying enthusiast, although not nearly as much, and thus I watched a fascinating show on NOVA a week or so back, entitled “To Pluto and Beyond”. It was about the continuing voyage of NASA’s New Horizons exploratory spacecraft, which is now traveling at roughly 37,000mph some 5 billion miles from our planet and still able to send back data and outstanding imagery to its home base here on Earth (taking over 4 hours to do so).

In a nutshell, when New Horizons was first launched, in January of 2006, scientists and astronomers didn’t even think much existed past what they call the Kuiper Belt (the area in space past the planet Neptune), other than insignificant, floating chunks of minerals and ice of varying size and shape – such as Pluto, now not even an officially termed “planet”.

But soon that would change as our telescopes got larger, more sophisticated, and certainly more powerful (such as the Hubble), revealing a wealth of new discoveries and vastly widening out view, and theories, about space past our solar system.

In just a little over two years after its successful flyby of Pluto and its moons, sending back stunning and never before seen imagery, project managers were able to plot a new course that would enable the probe to fly past what is now called 2014 MU69, or its more colorful nickname, Ultima Thule (which sounds much more bad-ass!)

To go into any detail about the show and this discovery would require a whole different blog, so for my purpose today, let’s just say the level of technology, engineering, and computational math involved in this exploratory endeavor is right up there with just about any other high achievement in man’s history; an incredible display of determination and shear brain power that simply boggles my mind. Sure, it was just an unmanned flyby, a probe…but successfully plotted over billions of miles, traveling at 37,000mph through orbiting planets, asteroids, and clouds of space debris, where a collision with something the size of a pea could mean instant disaster? Where the tiniest fraction of miscalculation can put the craft literally millions of miles off course? In the harshest and most unforgiving environment imaginable? You may as well try to explain quantum physics to me.

So what - what’s this got to do with a Talking Heads song... my point is this: excuse me if I don’t buy into this long running campaign of bullshit and misinformation put out by the petrochemical and carbon-based conglomerates, their money-wallowing and soulless lobbyists, and the special interest groups, who for the better part of fifty years have retained a complete stranglehold on our politicians and policy makers. They continue to control the discussion of our energy sources with fairy tales and scare tactics in support of a technology that is over 200 years old. Let’s dim the lights, roll out the boogyman, and wind him up:

“It will cost jobs!! The transition to renewable and clean energy is too expensive, the sources unable to compete in today’s economy!! The technology and infrastructure have yet to be fully worked out!! It’s much more difficult and complicated than you can possibly understand!! It’s simply going to take more time – it will be a long, slow process, and oil and gas will continue to play a dominant role in the meanwhile!!”

And on, and on, and on…

Bullshit! Germany now gets 40% of all its energy generated from renewable, clean sources. There are other countries in Europe harnessing tides to generate energy. Our planet is a hotbed for thermal energy potential. A recent study done here in Houston, at Rice University, claims Texas (who leads the nation in wind generated energy) has enough sun and wind to completely wean itself off coal within the near future.

Since when did America become the nation that couldn’t; that shied away from a challenge, technological or otherwise; that chose to follow instead of lead… was I stoned during that period? Did I miss something? Fifty-eight years ago, President John F. Kennedy stood at a podium at Rice University Stadium and declared:

“We choose to go to the Moon! We choose to go to the Moon...We choose to go to the Moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard; because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one we intend to win, and the others, too.”

To put this into context, at that time it had been just over a year since America had launched their first man into space: Alan Shepard riding a Redstone rocket 116 miles into suborbital flight, lasting fifteen minutes. Back then NASA scientists and medical professionals didn’t even know if a human could survive such a trip, or for how long. Would they retain their vision, their mental capacity? Would they lose all sense of direction? Pass out? Would they be able to endure and function during the required long duration flight to the moon and back? How would we even achieve such a feat?

OK, some might say, “Well, sure, NASA had a limitless budget - and after all, the space race was strictly for nationalistic reasons anyway, to beat the Russians to the moon…”

All true, but umm, have you looked out your window lately? Pay attention to any news? And no, Fox doesn’t count. According to a recent analysis, published in the Journal Science (see the story in the NY Times), our oceans are warming far more quickly than previously thought; like 40% faster on average than a United Nations panel estimated five years ago. Researchers now conclude that ocean temperatures have been breaking records for several years straight. Compounding the effects of our melting polar caps, warm water also takes up more volume than cold water, resulting in sea levels rising at an estimated rate of .13 inches (3.2mm) over the last 20 years. Satellite measurements tell us that over the past century the Global Mean Sea Level (GMSL) has risen by 4 to 8 inches.

Right now, over the last decade, we are seeing an increase in the number and severity of hurricanes, monsoons, tornadoes and wildfires. NEWS FLASH Gomer and Thelma Lu, this isn’t a conspiracy perpetrated by greedy and alarmist eggheads in lab coats, nor is it “fake news” or fuzzy science; and it certainly shouldn’t be considered, or treated as a political issue. It’s rock-solid, provable science that is accepted by 97% of scientists, climatologists, and geologists all around the world, who continue to ring the emergency bell. It’s happening today, all around us, and the bad news is we’re already too late; at this point, if we were to get serious this year, 2019, it will still be a game of damage control; of mitigating the consequences of our greed, ignorance, and gullibility.

In comparison, the goal and challenge of beating the Russians to the moon seems quite miniscule to that of restoring and maintaining the health of our little blue lifeboat called Earth.

“Whatever, our planet is a dynamic, ever changing thing - Earth has gone through similar climate changes before!” Yes, true – but over the span of tens of thousands of years, you moron. Man has achieved the same results in barely two hundred.

Just curious, but what part of 2.5 million pounds/second of co2 pouring into the relatively thin, fragile layer of atmosphere that protects our planet don’t you get? Too hard to think about, or conceptualize? Or is it easier for your lazy, flabby, unexercised brain to simply believe that it all just dissipates into outer space – you know, where the alien abductors that beamed you up into their mothership that weekend reside…

Make America Great Again? What a sad, short-changed, and utterly empty joke of a campaign slogan… Here, I’ve got one for you: SAVE OUR PLANET! For your children’s future and their children’s future. There simply is no option; no magical, last minute solution. No plan B. No spare planet accessible, sorry, this isn’t a movie - its real.

I simply don’t understand; why isn’t this the number one issue of concern for everyone? Could there possibly be a greater threat and more important challenge facing us all today?

Ah well, what the hell – we’ll all be fine in a couple thousand years after we evolve with gills and become aquamen and women… Although, good luck finding something to eat, as we’re also killing the entire food chain of life in the oceans, from coral reefs to the dolphins, the sharks, and the whales…I guess we could become aquacannibals – now there’s a surefire idea for a hit movie! Hmm, I wonder if we could talk Jason Momoa into that hard turn in the movie series plotline…

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housexoxohearts · 7 years ago

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30 Days of Autism Acceptance: Day 1

Prompt taken from the 30 Days of Autism Acceptance.

[ Image Description: Me and my cousin’s four-year-old daughter, who we’ve suspected is also autistic, perhaps with ADHD. I took this photo on my cell phone camera in the “self-we” style as we sat at a park bench. I’m a woman with metal-rimmed glasses and long dark hair. My niece (as I call her) is a little girl with brown hair tied back into a ponytail with a pink hair tie. We’re both wearing black shirts. We’re both smiling, enjoying our family vacation, posing for a picture. End Description. ]

The name I go by is Michaela Hearts. You can call me Mickey, Mick, or anything, really. I'm currently 24 years old, but I'll be 25 in June. And, as many of you know, I'm autistic.

Be warned, content ahead is a long read, and contains mentions of Autism Speaks, the cure rhetoric, ableism (from the world and internalized), bullying, and abuse.

I was professionally diagnosed at the age of three and 3/4 years, in the year of 1997. Apparently, I had always displayed a lack of interest in social interactions, and was hardly verbal until the age of 5. I would often play by myself, and in repetitive fashion. My father recounted the days I would strip dolls down and wrap them in washcloths, unwrap them, and repeat this sequence for long stretches of time, all the while so engrossed with such activities that I wouldn’t interact with anything else. I was hardly affectionate with my brother or my cousins, in spite of their warm friendliness and interest in playing with me. I ignored my oldest cousin’s (the mother of the little girl in the photo, heh) outstretched arms for a hugs for a very long time. (At some point, though, I eventually gave in, but not without an irritated sigh, lol.)

The diagnosing doctor explained autism to my parents in a way that broke down all expectations that I could ever live independently, or make anything of myself. My parents tried to work around these expectations placed on me and my brother (who would later be diagnosed with Asperger’s), but it was difficult. I wouldn’t say it was because of us. No, not at all. This was the age, after all, during which detrimental misinformation about autism was spread. And, with hardly any other resources at hand, my parents unfortunately fell into the collective misconception that their children’s autism was the result of heavy-metal poisoning from a serum found in vaccines, the fixed capacity of autistic functioning (functioning labels), and---worst of all---that our autism was a sickness that could be treated (or cured) with organic changes to our lifestyle.

I say that, though I’m fortunate enough that nobody in my family has been subjected to Bleach Therapy. Though my parents were convinced that organic-restricted diets and special salt baths could “ease symptoms of autism,” they at least had common sense enough to not give us bleach. And they eventually stopped their “treatments” as we grew tired of these routines that didn’t at all make us feel good (not to mention, didn’t do anything with our autism).

Through all this, I never realized. I had no idea I was autistic. My parents never explained any of these concepts to me. Whenever I was troubled by bullies at school who targeted me for being “weird,” every adult simply reassured me that I was “unique.” Which, you know, that’s nice and all, but... It didn’t explain why I was like this.

It didn’t explain why certain smells---that almost no one else picked up on---hurt my head so bad and made my stomach churn. It didn’t explain why certain sounds pierced my ears and painfully traveled down my spine, which in turn made me want to scream and hurt someone to make the pain, and its source, stop. It didn’t explain my discomfort with physical acts of affection. It didn’t explain my lack of social energy, which kept me at home most of the time (and sometimes even looked like I didn’t care). It didn’t explain my scripts and echophenomena. It didn’t explain my hyperempathy that left me in tears whenever anything bad happened to anyone. It didn’t explain why I was so emotionally fragile and impressionable, not only remembering the horrible things that were said to me (even if someone else might have thought these things were benign), but internalized it all into adulthood.

“Unique” was a start, but it didn’t quite answer anything. Not in the way Autism did.

I found out when I was 12. People who know me know that this was the worst time of life, as I had struggles both at home and at school. All I will say, to keep from tangents, is that my hyperempathy made me hurt the way my cousin (younger sister of the photographed little girl’s mother) did, and terribly. And it didn’t help that I had absolutely no friends at school. The friends I had were all fed up with my odd---and I guess disgusting---habits, and so distanced themselves from me. Everyone else found reasons to belittle me. Some acted like accidentally touching me had infected them with some terrible disease.

I knew there was something “wrong” with me.

My parents took my brother and me to a group program called Progressive Resources (which I had suspected, and now confirmed, is affiliated with Autism $peaks). I just knew it as “Group,” the place where we went to play and “learn social skills” while our parents talked about how much they hated us. (That was the way I described it, anyway, at a time when I had become numb to the thought of my parents’ disappointment in me.)

Because of all the toys we could play with, I thought it was fun, so I brought my hurting cousin with me one day. She didn’t like the structure of it, and commented on how infantilizing and demanding it was. That’s when I started to put two and two together; me being treated like a kid here, surrounded by “R*tards” (nonverbal people, people with special interests that are associated with very young children’s entertainment, people with audibly disabled voices) had something to do with my bad treatment at school. They hated me because I had been lumped up with these people.

So I lashed out. At my parents, my aunts and uncles...

Eventually, it got to the point where I said terrible, horrendous things about one of the clients at Progressive Resources (things I can’t repeat). My mother had been struggling to figure out what to do about my sudden burst of rebellion, but that was when I guess everything stopped for her. She was just about to get into the car when she heard the ugly things I said about the other client. She gave me one of the most serious looks I had ever seen on her and said,

“You’re autistic, little girl.”

My thought process stopped dead in its tracks. Having internalized ableism over so many years with horrible media depictions, “Awareness Campaigns,” and hearing the ugly things said about neurodivergents, I took this as an insult. Autism for me was an insult. So I protested, to which she provided my story.

“You didn’t talk until you were 5. You wouldn’t interact with anyone. We took you to a doctor---”

My attention span cut off from there. As much as I had internalized the world’s ableism, as much as I hated the concept of autism, it began to explain so much. It answered all the questions that “Unique” couldn’t. And yet, even with this realization, I can’t say I was happy about it. It was just a word to describe why I was chastised.

I hid in the attic for the rest of the day and marinated in my thoughts. I had to process every event that had taken place in my life. To this day, I can struggle from time to time to accept myself as I am. But from that day forth, I made the conscious decision to work with people just like me, other autistics. The following day, I made amends with the people I had before been antisocial with at PR, and was surprised at their forgiveness and eagerness to interact with me.

Though I was slowly beginning to crack under the weight of depression (from a lifetime of peer abuse, burden rhetorics, and my hyperempathy making me aware of all the wrongs in the world---with my hurting cousin as the window), I was even beginning to make friends. The initial shock melted into a deeper understanding of myself, and some very basic needs. There would be future struggles I wouldn’t take into consideration or realize until the present time, but I was starting to feel just a little bit better about who I was.

At the end of the story, I don’t want the idea that my parents were horrible Autism Parents to be taken. Yes, my parents had made some mistakes, and they let their misconceptions lead them into nasty territories with me. They just didn’t know what they were doing, and they had no means to correct themselves. Yes, a lot of their decisions have some lifelong consequences on me, but after I’ve worked so hard to make myself heard to them, they’ve finally opened their hearts. And while there’s still a lot that they don’t understand, they do understand that I am neurodivergent and mentally ill, and I need their support. They may not get it, but they do everything they can to support me, even going against past beliefs they had about me and the world.

But I realize that not everyone has this kind of support. There are people out there who can’t afford to can’t afford to get an official diagnosis, whether it be money for insurance, or the security of employment or within a household. To everyone who believes they may be autistic, but do not have it on an official medical document, I believe you too. And I love you. You are good and valid, and I hope for nothing but the best for you, even if it turns out you’re not autistic. ♡

Mickey 💕 You❣

#Autism Acceptance #Autism Acceptance Month #30 Days of Autism Acceptance Challenge #30 Days of Autism Acceptance #personal #tw ableism #tw bullying #tw internalized ableism #tw self hate #actually autistic #actuallyautistic #REDInstead #Autism $peaks #tw Autism Speaks #okay to reblog #tw anti vaxxers #tw abuse #tw r slur #tw cure rhetoric

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misunne · 7 years ago

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OKAY SO a couple days ago I had an Amazing plotting session with @sheildoversword about how Loki views and interacts with Steve at the beginning of my post-Ragnarok verse, where he’s staying at the Stark Tower. This was in a discord conversation, so it’s pretty unorganized in thoughts and informal in wording. I took out Amy’s responses which prompted mine, but tried to label what we were talking about...

I have a lot of emotions about a Loki/Steve dynamic.

Loki’s behavior toward Steve

At first, Loki is a bully to Steve -- but he does come to appreciate him through enough work and plotting. Their compatibility is the most difficult out of all the Avengers (and Clint, for obvious reasons). I have Loki spending post-Ragnarok living in the Stark Tower or a nearby apartment, essentially under vigilance or ‘house arrest’ and bound to the Avengers. Whether he is inducted into the Avengers is plot-based, but I like him to be. But either way, he’s in a situation where he’s not Steve’s enemy right now. They’re not attacking each other whenever they’re in the same room, so they’re just in a sort of allied truce. Loki’s reactions to him aren’t directly antagonistic, but they’re not friendly, either.

To start, Loki sees Steve as insufferable, because he only sees the obvious about him. A righteous poster boy who couldn't possibly understand him. So he pushes back.

How Loki feels about Steve

Steve is probably the one Loki resents the most, because of what he sees in him first. The perfect blond haired blue eyed apple of everyone's heart poster boy. Steve is essentially, in Loki's view, everything he is not, and could never be. To Loki, Steve is like Thor, but without the benefit of having Loki's love for centuries, so he hates him. He mocks him. Essentially, he doesn't take him seriously at all. He just seems like an action figure to him, a funny little man in a red, white, and blue jumpsuit with heroic catchphrases. He definitely sees Captain America first and foremost -- and that's not Steve Rogers. Even when Steve is trying to be Steve, Loki still sees Captain America without the mask, and sees him as inferior. He sees all the avengers as inferior, and he feels like he can treat them how he wants. Banner is a nuisance and a nervous boy who he can poke, but run when he gets angry. Tony is probably the best initially, because he's a genius even without magic, and Loki respects genius. Natasha is probably second best, because she managed to trick Loki, and he can respect skills of the trade. Clint is a child, barely worth a breath or desire to connect with (though in the back of his mind, he also feels a deep sense of guilt that makes him want to keep his distance for what Loki did to him). Fury and Coulson are Nothing, they're tiny humans.

Essentially, Loki really doesn't know Steve Rogers at all, and doesn't feel he should be bothered to.

Loki’s disrespect for Steve

This depends on how a specific Steve reacts to Loki, but Steve is likely to be aiming toward diplomacy when interacting with Loki at this point. To Loki’s view, this appears as though he’s receiving a second chance, and because Steve may or may not be directly hostile toward him,Loki perceives this as kindness. A path toward redemption. Though he is in the process of seeking out his own redemption, the thought isn’t completely formulated yet in the beginning. And now he’s witnessing a perceived kindness, when really -- Loki doesn't even see his own redemption, so how can he take Steve's kindness seriously? He thinks it's weakness. In the back of his head, he's lik: why is this man being nice to me, I literally tried to kill him and his planet? He's being nice to me, not trying to kill me? How weak of him.

So, he gets used to it. Steve the Captain America Hero Boy becomes steve the Unrelenting Nice Boy. Loki likes to cast people into baskets and walk away. They are this, they are always this, that's the end, I'm done thinking about this. He doesn't always recognize dimension. He doesn't see how Thor has changed throughout the movies. Doesn't ever expect him to. When he sees he has, he's like oh. I don't like what I've become. I want to change this. I think once Steve STOPS trying to be diplomatic and push back at him, try to get him off the team, or maybe even yell at him or punch him, Loki will have another ‘oh.’ moment. This guy who I assumed would just be nice and the courteous America poster boy, who I've been taking for granted, is no longer being nice. I don't like this

Because if someone is nice to him, he thinks he can control them and use their kindness against them. He doesn't foresee kindness AND inner strength put against him. That's what startled him so much in Ragnarok and a little in The Dark World. Thor, who has always tried to love and redeem and care for him, is turning against Loki because of his shitty actions. Loki sort of thinks that no matter how shitty he is, he expects Thor to always love him and be on his side no matter what. Even if he stabs him repeatedly, Thor is Supposed to be there for him. And when he's not? ('maybe we should go our separate ways.') It's extremely jarring. But it's good. It's healthy. He's seeing kindness in a new light. He starts to learn that he can’t keep pushing his loved ones and expect them to stay. He stops thinking about only himself, and he starts thinking outside of himself.

Earning Loki's respect is so hard and so annoying… When i just want to make him hug people but he's like no they're Peasants.

Loki learning to respect Steve

Because Loki and Steve are on the 'same team', as in two people who are in the same room and they're not actively trying to kill each other, Loki sees them on the same side, so he thinks he can keep flicking him. And pushing him. And prodding him. And he'll keep doing it until he lands on his ass, because that's just how he is. He doesn't learn until he experiences consequences. He doesn't listen, he has to witness. He has to come to a conclusion on his own. Steve threatening to kick his ass and being 100% serious about it will do it. Even if Loki's like 'really?' and Steve is like yeah really and Punches him, Loki will be like oh. We're on the same team, you're not actively trying to kill me, but you won't take my shit. Okay. This is weird. And different. Time to reevaluate.

He has to recalibrate a thought he's already accepted because now it's false. Starts being less joking around Steve, more Watching him. Starting to take him more seriously and actually witnessing him, rather than ignoring the reality of him and being set on the image of him. And he's So Uncomfortable with it. After enough time, he'll apologize. Sort of. Not so much in words, but in actions. He only apologizes if he's on his death bed really.

If Steve does punch him or otherwise snap at him, it will probably be a large stepping stone in him becoming a real person. Realizing consequences to his actions. He's always been drama. Take over the world but fail? It's fine, I'll go to jail, but I'll bide my time to break out of jail. Try to slaughter the frost giants but fail? No problem, I’ll just jump off into the void if push comes to shove. He really has an issue of absolutely no accountability because he's SO GOOD at having a backup plan in every situation. His catchsaves keep him from realizing that he fucked up. Even if he so totally loses, he knows how to turn it into a win. (Which is also why he sees the trials he faces in the Avengers as one of the many trials a hero goes through when trying to do good, rather than heroes trying to stop a villain.) BUT seeing as he's in this organization that will give him something he wants, redemption, and if he wants to stay in this place he wants to be... he has to be genuine. He hates being genuine. That's extremely vulnerable. That hurts way too much. Being real. Whenever he's real, his heart falls out.

Loki isn't really used to fucking up in ways he actually wants to fix. He fucks up? meh whatever i don't need that thing anyway. I'm perfectly fine Being Alone forever. He can totally choke on his pride. But he's also choking on his loneliness. After being shoved into his place and he wants to stay here, he'll try to rebuild. Subtly meet Steve halfway, even if not outwardly. (Because people pointing out that he's changed and is being good makes him very self-conscious and more likely to act the villain.) Meeting him halfway is really just Loki coming to respect him. His respect changes an entire dynamic. He's very intuitive. He knows if he's going to respect someone automatically or not just by meeting them. Basically if they fit his perspective of what a respectable person is. rich, majestic, powerful, confident, commanding, superior.

Loki’s reaction to Thor’s mistrust in him

He’s disoriented, because he always had Thor, no matter how many times he messed up. and it wasn't ever REALLY that much of a problem before the events in the films. yes, he's always been a tricky shit. but he was mostly here for a laugh. chaotic neutral with a range to chaotic good, never chaotic evil. he was always there to start shit, but he never wanted to kill a race. until shit hit the fan. until he learned that he is a monster -- in all accounts of what he's been taught, he IS a villain. and then with this brain seed of villainy getting its roots, he's subjected to thanos and torture and the mind stone, and it fruits itself into a villain tree with ambition for killing. he wasn't always this way, and now that he is. he doesn't know how to go back. thor doesn't know how to handle this Extreme Loki. loki doesn't even know how to handle this Extreme Loki. it's like he's been in a mania for YEARS and now, starting in TDW, he's coming down and it's like a jet running out of fuel and it's destabilized and shifting right and left and it's going to burn out and crash into a mountain. thor's reaction to him, now treating him with caution and mistrust, makes it So Much Worse bc there's no buffer to the way he comes down. he has no parachute or air bag. he's gonna hit the ground with his face. it's gonna hurt.

Loki sees men as expendable

In interaction with Steve, because there’s such a difference between being a god and being human. thor and loki (though not as bad as ODIN) more or less have been raised to see the common man as expendible. thor is in the recovery of this, loki less so, but war and battle is So glorified in their culture that their idea of heaven is an endless war/battle and feasting cycle. but what do they know? they're gods. they don't die. they're at the very top, they don't see a little guy without a chance fighting a war he never chose to fight. they don't know anyone who isn't a highly skilled god warrior. they don't understand peace

Who is Loki trying to be?

the conflict loki has in thor 1 was amplified and exacerbated so much more by thanos rather than given time to heal. like having a bullet wound and cutting it open until it's ten times bigger. he was on the edge of a cliff with his shitty things in thor 1, but he could have recovered from that if not for thanos. now it's gonna take Much More to recover. because he's someone else now, and that mind stone effect won't ever Really go away. h o n e s t l y loki is someone who really does need limits. in romance, in friendship, in partnership, in everything. and steve is doing it right. put him back in his place but still be there for him? tbh steve is gonna earn himself a cosmically annoying pain in the ass loyal to him to the end. IT'S ALSO REALLY COOL BC LIKE. thor exemplified that life. the warrior norse who would go to valhalla. loki actually never Was that, and he's been struggling to Be that. so many times he's trying ardently to be what he's not. now seeing thor change from that, and being told he doesn't need to be that really agitates him. like working toward one goal and it was a false goal. r o u g h

#* ｡✧ ━ ⦅ headcanon. ⦆#and it continues after but we started joking and sharing cat pictures instead

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1234businessanalystraining · 6 years ago

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Teacher Education and Teacher Quality

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Pedagogical content learning might be picked up through formal Also casual intends. Taking in chances for pedagogical content knowledge, formally, intended Toward institutions, dependent upon Taking in targets which by and large need aid prerequisite for certification, constitutes the formal implies. To formal learning, scholars need clear plans around the goal of procuring pedagogical abilities. Casual learning, on the different hand, is not composed eagerness. It takes spot by chance thus might a chance to be recognized Likewise 'side effect'. Similarly as Kleickmann wtw5000dw et al (2012) portrayed it, it need no objective for admiration to Taking in outcomes, Also it will be contextualized will an expansive degree. This is frequently called Taking in by encounter. Informal, However deliberative, Taking in particular circumstances exists. This happens Previously, particular circumstances for example, Taking in Previously, groups, mentoring, What's more purposefulness working on about a portion abilities or devices. Werquin (2010) portrayed informal, Be that as deliberative, Taking in Likewise non-formal Taking in. Dissimilar to formal learning, non-formal Taking in doesn't happen over instructive organizations and doesn't draw in affirmation. If pedagogical substance learning. Pedagogical substance information will be used to spans the hole the middle of substance information Furthermore real educating. By bridging those gap, it ensures that dialogs about substance whirlpool cabrio washer need aid important on educating help Furthermore that examinations themselves are concentrated on the content. Similarly as such, pedagogical content information will be something instructors must pay thoughtfulness regarding. Instructors who have Also utilize beneficial pedagogical content learning have beneficial control again classroom management Also assessment, information over Taking in courses showing methods, What's more distinctive qualities (Harr, Eichler, & Renkl, 2014). Such educators have the ability to make an air that facilitates Taking in Furthermore need aid Additionally equipped on exhibit alternately encourage the Taking in about ideas by Significantly sluggish scholars. They have the ability should settle on Taking in simpler Eventually Tom's perusing understudies Subsequently educator's testament with helter skelter pedagogical content learning might make ordered Similarly as nature educators. It may be worth noting that it is not pedagogical substance learning main that makes great instructors. An instructor won't be great wrs325fdam assuming that he/she will be ace of pedagogical learning Yet fails to offer topic content learning.

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#business analyst training

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reaganyears · 7 years ago

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A system aware of its own limitations (in-game events)

With a new job, the holiday season and moving out, plus other personal projects coming in the middle, I certainly did not find the time to finalize alpha 0.4.2, which is supposed to be the first playable Alpha of Reagan Years. However, it is also a nice occasion to take some time and reflect on my ambitions for this project and about the core gameplay concepts I want to implement.

All these things I can’t depict faithfully

I have written previously about how I decided to restrict the scope of my game in terms of historical period (the 80′s) and in terms of the player’s point of view (USA). The fact is, if it was to prove relevant, I could easily disregard these limitations in the future. If I saw fit, I could quickly design a 1960′s scenario, or make USSR playable.

But the system I am designing also comes with limitations that I foresee will be difficult to overpass. At the moment, I am especially concerned about the inclusion in my game of historical dynamics such as social struggle, class conflict, intricate internal politics, cultural war and the role of propaganda, political ideologies, trade and economics, international law and human rights, international organizations (such as the UN), non-governmental bodies (especially multinational corporations), and last but not least, the geopolitical agendas of the so-called minor powers (that is, every country beside USA and USSR).

Some of these elements might be reflected in the game system, however, I already know I will not be able to emulate them in a satisfactory way. This is due to a number of factors, among which : my lack of skills, the complexity of the matter, the need to maintain clarity, playability, and accuracy. Sometimes I may find the solutions, sometimes not.

"We win, they lose” : a simple point of view

Hopefully, I am not yet suffering from Borgeso-Perecian madness. I do not pursue the vain ambition of including the whole reality of the 1980′s in my game. I know I have to make choices, and I just need to make sure these choices are relevant to what I want to achieve.

In theory, I just need to be satisfied with the result. But my problem is I can’t be satisfied with the result because I strongly believe that a game system will anyway always be a very poor representation of the reality. I can’t summarize the history of mankind in the 1980′s in a playable game system. Maybe other people can, but they haven’t done it yet in a way I would accept to mimic.

Therefore, all I decide to do is to create a game system that represents a rather simplistic point of view. That’s what Reagan Years is about : the point of view promoted by Ronald Reagan during his presidency. “Here’s my strategy on the Cold War : we win, they loose.” said Reagan (1977). Hey, that’s simple enough to be put in a game! Let’s do it.

Videogame history is rich with strategy titles taking a limited point of view. You have Civilization that is like a playable version of Fukyama’s End of history. You have Crisis in the Middle East where the only role expected from the player is to establish Israel’s regional supremacy. You have Age of Empires that depicts a fantasized, over-simplified middle-age that looks like a Errol Flynn’s flick.

All these games are problematic, not only because they adopt a simplified point of view, but also because they refuse to question it. Actually, they even refuse to acknowledge the existence of their own biases.

A good example of this posture is demonstrated in the promotion of the game Vietnam ‘65. This game’s description on Steam totally give in to the US’ army rethorics : “killing the enemy is only a secondary mission. Most of your efforts and resources are spent elsewhere trying to grab the Hearts & Minds of the local population”.

But that’s not all. The developer’s page also claim that “this is a game that captures the true essence of the Vietnam war”, quickly disregarding the possibility that you could look at this war with other glasses than those provided by the US commandment.

So, how am I to create a grand strategy game that question its own point of view? Let’s turn to Crusader Kings for inspiration.

How Crusader Kings breaks its own rules

I will certainly write other posts about the Crusader Kings series, since these games are a major inspiration of mine. So let’s not get into the details of these games now. Suffice to say the ambitions of the developers toward historical accuracy were exceptional as per the videogame’s industry standards (I admit these standards are low). But the most inspiring thing about CK design is not its tremendous complexity, or the amount of research done ahead of the development. The most inspiring thing is : the game aknowledge that its own so-called “complex” system is worth peanuts when faced with the reality it aims to depict.

This is very cleverly pointed out by Jason Pitruzello in his article Systemizing Culture in Medievalism. Pitruzello explains how unusually complex are the cultural mechanisms in this game, while still deploring their limitations.

Clearly, there are limits to the nuances of the game's cultural mechanics. [...] it might appear that Crusader Kings does not really provide a better medieval experience for its players because, although culture can transfer between rulers and the provinces they rule, culture remains unchanging and static. [...] However, the game's designers include one exception to their own rules that indicates that they understand the limits of their own work. In recognition that cultural change need not simply shift from one culture to another, the game comes with an "English melting pot" cultural change event. This cultural conversion event bypasses the mechanics I outlined above."

Narratives VS the system

Had I not stumbled across this article, I would probably never have started to develop Reagan Years This piece of criticism greatly clarified some of the vague ideas I had on the paradoxes of so-called realistic game systems, but it also pointed out to an excellent example of how I could expect to surpass these paradoxes.

This is how I plan to practically apply all this theory to my game:

The game system will depict a limited point of view : the world’s geopolictics are binary. The main objective of the USA is its own supremacy and the defeat of USSR. Outside of their pro-USA or pro-USSR agenda, the behaviour of other countries is of little interest.

But this limited point of view, reflected in the game’s main rules, will also be challenged by the game’s narratives. At the moment, I mostly plan to use an event system to achieve this (events are also a beloved core feature of CK). The events will cover things that are not represented in the game’s main system. Events will be used both as narrative moments of the game (texts to read) and exceptions to the game’s rules (altering mechanics).

The event system will also allow other narratives to emerge in the game. For example, the game is extremely binary (USA vs USSR) in its nature, but events will pop up to present the point of view of other countries, of other groups, and to remind the player that while playing a Reagan’s game, he is playing “with blinkers on”.

The events will also be used to reposition the ordinary life of human beings at the center of an otherwise very abstract game system. For example, they will be used to narrate the consequences of the player’s strategic actions on the lives of simple citizens.

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mindcoolness · 7 years ago

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On the Importance of Values in Life

New Post has been published on http://www.mindcoolness.com/blog/importance-of-values-in-life/

On the Importance of Values in Life

What are values?

A human value is a statement of the form “X is good.” For example, to say that we “value honesty” is just another way of saying “honesty is good.”

Values are ordered by priority. For example, we may value freedom over comfort and comfort over equality. This would represent the statement “freedom is better than comfort, and comfort is better than equality,” which is equivalent to saying “if necessary, we will sacrifice equality for comfort and comfort for freedom.”

Every human value is a ‘goodness’ that exists in people’s minds, exists as a sociomental construct that guides collective action.

Wait—is that true? “What about my own, my personal, my individual values?” you may ask. Individual values are delusions.

Individual values are delusions for the simple reason that values cannot exist in isolation from society. Instead of creating his own values, a man’s values always arise from a social context. This may be a culture, a nation, a tribe, a class, a church, a company, a club, a clan, a family, a team, or any group one can affiliate with. It can even be a spiritual connection to an ancient pagan tradition or an intellectual connection to an old philosophical school. Whatever your values may be, they are never uniquely your own.

Where do values come from?

Human values originate in everything that makes us human: our biology and society. Values are formed in their embryonic state by our human needs, wants, and desires before they are born from the womb of a particular social group, whose core values are determined by its purpose:

In a tribe, core values may be courage, loyalty, and honesty because the purpose of a tribe is to stay together and survive.

In a sports team, core values may be discipline, mental toughness, and competitiveness because the purpose of a sports team is to train and win. The same holds for military platoons.

In a school class, core values may be popularity, sociability, and emotional intelligence because the purpose of a school class is to develop social skills.

In a college class, core values may be wit, knowledgeability, and rationality because the purpose of a college class is to debate and share knowledge.

In a monastery, core values may be simplicity, quietness, and punctuality because the purpose of a monastery is to pray.

In a church, core values may be humility, devotion, and self-restraint because the purpose of a church is to subdue.

In a poor nation, core values may be natality, patriarchy, and security because the purpose of a poor nation is to reproduce and survive.

In a company, core values may be innovation, perseverance, and assertiveness because the purpose of a company is to make deals and profit.

Every man belongs to numerous social groups with specific purposes and differently prioritized values. His personal value system is a function of those societal values based on how strongly he associates with each group, for example:

A man who cares more about his gym buddies than about his classmates or coworkers will value physical strength and competitiveness over resourcefulness and friendliness.

A man who cares more about the scientific community than about the mainstream culture will value facts and rationality over fun and popularity.

A man who cares more about his conservative family than about his liberal friends will value culture and tradition over fairness and equality.

In juvenile terms, your values categorize the fucks you give in life. Every time you give a fuck about something, you can be certain that there is a value underlying that ‘fuck’ (and probably an insecurity underlying that value). If you care about how your friends and colleagues think of you, it will be best for you to align your actions with the values of those groups in order to improve their judgment of you. If you “don’t give a fuck,” this only means that there is another person or social group, real or imagined, whose approval you need even more.

More broadly, your values depend on all your social identities, and only insofar as you have multiple social identities can your value system can be individualistic. For example, if you belong to a particular gender, age group, family, culture, ethnicity, company, university, political party, football team, and hunting club, you have multiple social identities and thus a complex value system that is uniquely your own. However, no single value will ever be uniquely your own because no value exists outside of a particular community. Although a man’s value system may be personal, every value within that system is communal.

Why are values important?

Values are important because they connect you to a group of people. Values tell you—in a more abstract way than norms—how to behave if you want to be accepted, respected, and venerated by a social group. The more you align your actions with a set of values, the more popular you become in a group. You rise higher in a social hierarchy the better you implement its value hierarchy (= the more virtuous you are).

Human values are the key to power, to leadership, to social status, to ‘being alpha’. Values are signposts for acquiring high social status, for maximizing one’s influence within a social group. They are conscious expressions of the will to power. That is the importance of values in life. Some examples:

In a group of prisoners who value loyalty, people rise in social status by violently asserting dominance over members of an enemy gang.

In a group of leftists who value equality, people rise in social status by signaling their anti-racism on social media and yelling at university professors.

In a group of young men who value masculinity, people rise in social status by building muscle and banging more and hotter chicks.

In a group of entrepreneurs who value profit, people rise in social status by developing innovative products and marketing strategies.

In a group of rational people who value ethics, people rise in social status by maximizing the well-being of conscious creatures.

Are values ethical?

Being ethical is just one value among many. Ethical values are not valuable by themselves. They are valuable only to the extent that you belong to a group of people who value ethics so that you can rise in social status by being ethical. The meta-value is power, not ethics. Even objective moralists still speak with an in-group bias, namely, a bias towards the value of rationality, which is a prime value within the social group of academia.

There is no direct human desire for being moral. There is, however, a human desire for power, which is required for reproductive success and genetic survival, and being moral is simply a means to enhance power—even if that power is merely intellectual and even if the respective social group is merely imaginary, idealistic.

Again, values are important because they guide our actions to help us gain influence among those people who matter most to us, whose love and respect we crave. This also explains why there seems to be a universal hatred of hypocrisy. A hypocrite is someone who professes to adhere to a group’s values while his actions profess otherwise. Because he violates the value hierarchy, he loses social status.

By contrast, a revolutionary is someone who reminds people of their ‘true values’ and who, by proving through his actions his commitment to these values, becomes the group’s leader. He is not a Nietzschean Übermensch who “creates new values,” but rather a Socratic anamnesist who entices core values out from under the dirt of moral degeneracy. A revolutionary helps people to remember their collective True Will.

Can we create new values?

Around the devisers of new values revolveth the world:—invisibly it revolveth. But around the actors revolve the people and the glory: such is the course of things. (Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra)

I reckon that all human values have already been created throughout the process of evolution and civilization. To truly create new values, we would have to create a new sociobiological type—or an abiological artificial intelligence. (You may read this also as a hint at what I think about the ethics of AI: If values make sense only within a given social context, then programming human values into a machine is infinitely more difficult than writing a few utilitarian algorithms. Who knows, maybe the creators of new values, i.e., computer scientists, have little desire to devise human values anyway.)

What does this mean practically?

The purpose of this article is to make you reflect on your ‘own’ values by considering two questions:

What social groups do you belong to and what is the value hierarchy within each group? This includes how consciously aware you are about your social identities and about the values that come along with it.

What social environments do you spend most of your time in and where do you resonate best with others? This includes how consciously aware you are about your belonging to various groups; many people, for example, do not feel a strong sense of belonging to their nation or culture, whereas others might lack such a sense at home, at school, or at work.

Remember, your personal value system is a list of values that are ranked based on how strongly you are emotionally invested in each of your social identities.

As a practical consequence, you can alter your values only by altering your social environment. Ideally, you choose social groups that value things you are talented in and naturally inclined to do. If your personality sorts well with a certain community, you will organically align your actions with its values. Then you can rise to the top of the social hierarchy—turn into an alpha male, become a leader, and get power & pussy.

Am I saying that power & pussy (or their biological equivalents) are more important than ethics? Well, what I am saying is that ethics itself is just a way towards power & pussy. It is the modern, liberal way—a relatively ineffective way, still. Objectively, power & pussy should not be more important than morality. I, however, am more interested in sociobiological than utilitarian facts—and yes, that personal interest represents a value preference that is fundamentally socially embedded.

The Limits of Truth and Justice (Objective Morality)

Why Freedom Isn’t What You Think It Is (Modernity Vs. Tradition)

Barbaric Tribalism Vs. Scientific Moralism

#ethics #masculinity #philosophy #Blog

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andrebooker7532 · 7 years ago

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Jen Shirkani on the liberating power of EQ: An interview by Bob Morris

Jen Shirkani is a nationally recognized expert on emotional intelligence and a featured speaker at national and state conferences, universities, government agencies, and at business organizations around the world. She is the author of Ego vs EQ and Choose Resilience. She has spent over 25-years working with organizations as a business consultant and executive coach. In addition to emotional intelligence, she frequently speaks and writes about workplace challenges, including: interviewing and selection, employee engagement and motivation, generational differences, and coachability.

Jen has been a frequent guest of several national radio programs, and has been featured in Bloomberg/Businessweek, Leadership Excellence magazine, Investors Daily, Business Insider, Publishers Weekly, Fast Company, Reader’s Digest, and Upstart Business Journal. She holds a Master’s Degree in Organizational Leadership and has devoted herself to improving leadership effectiveness and on making common sense more common.

Here is an excerpt from my interview of Jen.

* * *

For those who have not as yet read Choose Resilience, hopefully your responses to these questions will stimulate their interest and, better yet, encourage them to purchase a copy and read the book ASAP.

First, when and why did you decided to write it?

My first book was written to help leaders help themselves use more self-awareness, empathy and self-control to be effective in their roles and avoid the pitfalls common in executive leadership. I wanted to provide some tools for those who weren’t in a traditional management role, but still wanted to know how to leverage the benefits of emotional intelligence (EQ) for self-leadership. I started the writing of the more recent book in 2015.

Were there any head-snapping revelations while writing it? Please explain.

Shirkani: Since Choose Resilience is about overcoming struggle and facing challenges with strength, I felt it was important to include my own personal story. I have been through a health scare with my daughter, financial distress, business failures and a divorce. It was difficult to talk about myself, and many times I thought about giving up the book topic. But, eventually I realized that the key to resiliency is being able to own our situations and take action anyway, even when it’s easier to stay in a safe comfort zone.

To what extent (if any) does the book in final form differ significantly from what you originally envisioned?

About half of the original content stayed intact from the first edition version, but the format and chapter flow changed completely. Since I self-published this time, it gave me the flexibility to keep revising and creating content that I felt it needed, without the pressure of publication deadlines. So, it was published when it was ready and not any sooner.

When and why did you first become so intensely interested in emotional intelligence (EQ)?

I became interested in EQ back in the mid 1990’s when I was working as an in-house training specialist and EQ was a hot topic. I became intensely interested (some could say “obsessed”) with the topic when I started my own business in 1999 and realized that without the vital functional skills of stress tolerance, flexibility and self-control the development of other skills was almost impossible. EQ is the foundation of everything. In the early 2000’s I was certified in a couple of the assessments and that really helped me understand the psychometrics behind the behavioral science and I have woven it into everything I do since then.

Who and/or what have had the greatest influence on the formulation of your thoughts about EQ?

It was Stephen Covey. Even though he never used the language of EQ, his book The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, it has the principles of EQ woven throughout it and gave me a practical model to follow that takes EQ from competency to behavior.

What are the defining characteristics of a supervisor who has highly developed EQ?

Leaders with high EQ can communicate with others effectively, provide balanced feedback, lead others through ambiguity, use humor to build rapport, read and respond to the leadership needs of others, and remain optimistic even in the face of difficulty. These leaders can emotionally and mentally plug into others and can read the situation at hand and behave accordingly to get the best results for everyone.

How and to what extent is resilience relevant to EQ or vice versa? Please explain.

Resilience is a valuable outcome of EQ. Without EQ, you may survive hardship but you won’t thrive because it is the foundation of skills that allows you to tolerate stress with motivation and optimism. It is the blend of self and social skills that allow us to choose responses, instead of allowing our emotions to overwhelm and eventually undermine us. Too many of us have lost our ability to tap into our resilience because it is a deeply hidden resource. It is there by design for emergency situations, but one thing is required to access it: We must set aside our ego, instead showing vulnerability and humility. It’s either ego or EQ.

How specifically can a comfort zone (as you indicate) “betray” its occupant?

It is easy to fall into a pattern of familiarity or ease and avoid whatever requires us to stretch or challenges us. But we can be lulled into a false sense of security. Moderate stress builds tolerance for stress so when something unexpected comes along (job loss, miscarriage, death in the family, health crisis) we are better equipped to deal with the consequences. Even if there is no big hardship, by pushing ourselves out of our bubble of comfort we take risk. The comfort zone strips away the confidence we can only get with risk.

When explaining how to use EQ to “survive and thrive,” you have much of great value to say about “Three Rs.” Please explain the unique importance of each. First, Recognize

In almost every situation, you have the choice to remain safe or challenge yourself and take a risk. When you use EQ to recognize, read and respond, it’s like pausing long enough to circumvent the gut reaction of the comfort zone that entices you to play it safe. The first component of EQ, “recognize” relates to the importance of recognizing yourself (self-awareness). This includes knowing your strengths and weaknesses. It includes recognizing your personality type, communication style preference, moods, drives and the way you are perceived by others which is social self-awareness. The more we know the things that we cling to, the better we can challenge ourselves to try new things.

Next, Read

This is your ability to read situations and people accurately. Understanding the emotional make-up of others, reading non-verbal body language, sensing the impact your behavior is having on others. Those with high EQ can pick up subtle signals from others that send us messages. This requires empathy to see the world from the viewpoint of another, and even if we don’t agree with it, still understand why they have that perspective.

Finally, Respond

It is important that we choose responses that are most appropriate for the situation or person you are interacting with. This is a mindful way to react vs. taking a one-size-fits-all approach, treating everyone the same way no matter the situation.

How specifically can EQ help someone to break out of their comfort zone? What role does resilience then play?

Breaking out of the comfort zone requires three critical EQ skills: Motivation, Optimism and Stress Tolerance. Motivation is the ability to stay productive, even during challenging times. Motivation gives you the drive and the energy to push into your confidence zone. Optimism is a belief that the future will be better than the past and positive change is possible. Motivation helps you get started, but optimism helps you persist. Stress tolerance provides the coping skills to help us manage uncertainty, ambiguity and challenge. I think you can see how having a solid foundation of all three of these skills would provide you better resilience when things get uncomfortable.

* * *

Here is a direct link to the complete interview.

Jen invites you to check out the resources here:

Her website link

Ego vs. EQ link

Choose Resilience link

from personivt2c http://employeeengagement.ning.com/xn/detail/1986438:BlogPost:192087 via http://www.rssmix.com/

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brianowens-blog1 · 8 years ago

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Why You Need to have to Consider a 100% Natural Talalay Mattress

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With as a result a great deal facts upon the website, material may well consider mixed and confuses you therefore substantially consequently that you may well determine from picking a bed to get. Consumer’s study, in just addition, would deliver things even even worse as the critique is built during subjective views, which indicates that whichever works for someone may well or may possibly not for you. Normally, your self will not locate this as easy as you would which includes it toward be. It is simple towards believe that it would be significantly less difficult toward depend upon material by yourself. Nevertheless without having filtering it all out, your self may conclude up buying a thing that is not at all excellent for by yourself, which then sales opportunities in the direction of yourself squandering funds for a little something that yourself should hardly ever take in just the initially Space. This is a lousy financial investment all through and for the duration of. As a result, the exceptionally first factor that you need to have to keep in brain with regards to building in direction of invest in a mattress is that oneself consist of to come across out what particularly is it that you attempt towards glance for. Seems simple, doesn’t it? Regretably, in just point, your self will identify you very simple to sway more than the moment hearing what others say. Crank out up your head very first. Pare your attributes down in the direction of precisely just one that is ideal, like having into attention a 100% Natural Talalay Mattress.

If on your own nonetheless track down it difficult to do it all upon your particular, this is what on your own need to do: adhere in direction of a product that is 100% natural and organic. It is not a coincidence that on your own are currently being informed to include a 100% Natural Talalay Mattress on your selections. A Talalay latex mattress uses supplies that are not artificial, opening a prospect toward guide a better everyday living for yourself. However, by yourself may well argue that if a organic substance is all that it takes, why trouble sticking with a Talalay mattress anyway. Watch, the matter that on your own could possibly not know is that the regulation claims that a merchandise can be categorised as “natural” even whenever a brand name consists of as little as 8% of organic and natural information within just the solution. This is why on your own check out a lot of variables scattered out there upon the market classified as organic When most of them simply cater toward the minimal requirement. With a proportion this minimal, an 8% natural mattress can still location your existence at possibility offered that there are the other 92% synthetic or synthetic information applied within producing said content. And 92% is a percentage that is route also big for oneself to rely upon it. Do not at any time think that merely simply because a material is inside its sturdy place it will not be destructive. Artificial wool, for case in point, involves loads of chemical substances and chemical compounds to create. This kind of aspects may evaporate around year and you stop up inhaling them for the duration of your snooze.

The companies of regular mattresses (or individuals who are “minimally” natural) are beneath duty to deliver fire-proof products. The law in addition says this; a mattress is viewed as pertinent whenever it does not smoothly scorched. And what do all those mattress suppliers do? They drench their products in a concoction of Decabromodiphenyl oxide, antimony, and boric corrosive. The names by itself are presently hazardous toward go through yet such factors are truly banned within the Europe for reasonably some period currently. Simply just as a result by yourself understand, the a few are utilized within pesticides, which, every time disclosed to human, contribute towards a selection of probable illnesses: SIDS, miscarriage, situations all through being pregnant, health situations inside children, heart- and lung-related diseases, hair decline, pores and skin circumstances, cancers, and memory impairment. Therefore, why in just the good worldwide would oneself lie upon anything at all that actually murderous When your self can overlook them all and vacation resort toward a 100% Natural Talalay Mattress?

Your next ponder must be: what sets a 100% Natural Talalay Mattress aside against the others then? Some mattresses consist of wool inside of its generation. Synthetic wool is currently drenched in just chemicals. The course of action of generating the mattresses provides much more chemical compounds to the wool, creating it further more lethal on finishing. A Talalay bed works by using organic, pure wool; the kind of wool that is unadulterated, untouched as a result of chemical substances. Why? Wool in alone is a hearth retardant. Hearth does not eat wool. So, via making use of wool in producing a mattress, a manufacturer consists of by now created the content fireproof. They shower their mattresses with many number of chemical substances simply just in the direction of comply with the legislation.

A 100% Natural Talalay Mattress is particularly that: a mattress built of purely natural Talalay latex. Granted, inside manufacturing latex, brands include some fixings in the direction of their solutions like sulfur, unsaturated bodyweight cleansers, and zinc oxide. However these kinds of chemicals are somewhat tolerable for the physique even after your self slumber on a mattress produced of latex put together with them. Suffice in the direction of say, All those chemical substances do not rely While you appear to be for a bed of Talalay latex. This type of latex is designed taking no chemical compounds whatsoever, developing it a healthful alternative around other kinds of latex. But does it all end there? Not even remotely; anytime it arrives in the direction of buying a mattress that is better for your exercise, anything needs in the direction of be 100% organic and natural. Combining all-natural wool with 100% natural Talalay latex tends to make a very good bed. Mattresses of this type of latex contain a amount of rewards toward offer you you, which includes:

1.Enhancedd consolation stage The wool layer and the cotton protect crank out for dry sleeping and they market air flow, steering clear of your human body towards turning out to be overheated.

2. Adjustability Talalay latex mattresses are less difficult toward find the money for and adjust. Positioning is the greatest substantial detail Even though it will come to nutritious sleeping. Other latex mattresses can't supply a extensive wide range of adjustability yet the Talalay-based types are Incredibly flexible.

3. Environmentally skilled Talalay mattresses pass both equally Cradle to Cradle and Oeko-Tex Certification. These certifications Compute that the content is pleasant towards both a consumer and the globe itself.

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