#there's like an underscoring to my life and i only just realized this when it cut out as i had that will year long secret realization

[gayofthefae]

I would like to add:

Eddie opening his eyes once Buck's gone after telling him to break up with Ana

Also, yeah, this was a really fun idea then, but now it has the implication that - not unlike the will - he has known for OVER A YEAR.

Wait! Not. Unlike. The. Will. Eddie is known to keep secrets for a year. From Buck. Within that, the writers are known to not *tell* us while he is doing so EVEN if it is important until Buck finds out. So is it really so crazy to suggest that we wouldn't be let in on this secret either?

Okay, but that wasn't what I was originally gonna say. What I was originally going to say was that to me, things like the lasagna conversation and just his general demeanor actually very much lend themselves to what I just mentioned. Look at that! My brain is so smart! That like with the will - Eddie has no intention of telling Buck. To him, it's none of his business. He's not seeking anything out from it. It's like he said: he's just allowing himself to feel it. And not admit it or treat it as something he wants rather than feels because sometimes fantasy is better than reality. So he'll let it be a fantasy. A daydream. Rather than some unattainable goal. This way it can be something good.

And this additionally lends itself again to why they've put off the ultimate shooting conversation for long. They can't untangle their emotions about each other in relation to the shooting from Eddie's feelings for Buck. Whether he remembers or not - because he might not remember narratively - he would have still remembered realizing even if he doesn't remember the specifics of the blood on his face or asking if he was hurt or the exact moment, he would remember having had the thought just like he remembers thinking "this is it". In fact, it was likely the same thought - thought in the same breath, so to speak. Buck may be able to say how scared he was of losing Eddie, which is likely why we see him initiating the conversation more: he has less stake in it. Eddie, on the other hand, can't say the thought of Buck that crossed his mind as he was dying. So it's either all or nothing. It's either I remember it or "that was it".

And I do to a degree believe he doesn't remember every moment we saw. I would believe that he doesn't remember asking Buck if he was hurt, for example, or Buck carrying him into the ambulance. And maybe it's just my brain autofilling it...but maybe it's something about Ryan's delivery. I *really* thought when Eddie looked up like he had just thought of something right before he said "And I thought, this is it" that he was going to say "...and I remember you." Maybe I just read his mind. Because maybe those thoughts WERE intrinsically tied. "I remember thinking it was the end of my life" and "I remember thinking of you". Maybe he did think "I remember thinking of you", he just worded it a little differently.

Edit:

Also maybe the implications of how that call with the two best friends in 504 only worrying about and thinking of each other in last moments would have impacted Eddie. Once again, I am recommending "the ache in my mouth" on ao3. My favorite fic; I am gonna go reread it right now, actually.

The whole “Eddie pretends not to remember Buck during the shooting” is giving serious “The shooting was Eddie’s oh moment” vibes which, in turn is making me insane.

The implications of Eddie being aware of his feelings for Buck during s5 and s6 are driving me up the walls. They recontextualize everything:

Eddie’s reaction when Buck teased him about getting serious with Ana

The look during the pool game

Eddie’s panic attacks

Eddie’s reluctance to tell Buck about it

Buck being the one who tells him not to ‘stick it out’ if he isn’t in love

Eddie leaving the 118

The look he gave Buck from across the bar when he felt outside the 118 and chose not to join them

Eddie jumping dispatch chain of command to talk down the car bomb

You’re the guy who wants to fix things

Buck showing up during his breakdown

Eddie opening up to him

Buck looking after Chris so he can go to therapy

The equine therapy intervention

Their reunion during May Day

The kitchen/couch scene

“What are you offering?”

“You mean your last two girlfriends came with couches”

Him and Chim sharing a look and trying to take Buck and Hen for breakfast

Buck where the hell are you going???

The donor thing!!!!!

THE LIGHTNING

Can you hear me?????

Do more!

The hospital

Everything about 6x12

If it turns out that Eddie was AWARE of his own feelings for Buck through all that I’m going to absolutely yeet myself into the fucking sun

Edit: I CANNOT BELIEVE I FORGOT TO MENTION THAT THIS WOULD MEAN EDDIE KNEW HE LOVED BUCK DURING THE “It would’ve been better for him if I was the one that got shot” AND DURING THE WILL THING!!!!

[twomiddlefingersforthehaters]

"My boby moved on its own" is an SNS trope . Sasuke is the type of person who always does something for Naruto and then finds a logical reason to cover that up.

1. His reason for offering his bento to Naruto

2. His reason for looking after Naruto who had been training all night.

3. His reason for to Save Naruto from Haku's attack.

4. His reason for why he wasn't able to kill Naruto in vote1

5. His reason for protecting Naruto from Obito

It gets so intense every time he protects Naruto from Obito. And Naruto notices how Sasuke protecting him from the attacks every time. Even when his Susanoo is already protecting Naruto, his hand is also going there to shield him.

We've never seen Sasuke do anything like this for Sakura, while with Naruto it's pretty consistent throughout the series. And Why do you think Kishi made 5 scenarios like this to point that out? Sasuke wouldn't do this kind of thing for anyone else. Absolutely no one. So what impression does it make?

In this war arc, Sakura herself acknowledged to the fact that Sasuke didn't care about her:

When Sakura ran up to Madara to get stabbed, both Naruto and Kakashi were either terrified or shocked as she plunged on someone she couldn't deal with. And Sasuke's expression was completely different from the others, he was just focused on the opening to attack madara. Where are Sasuke's instincts when it comes to Sakura? And the one who saved her was Naruto. Look at her dejected face! Even she herself accepting the fact that Sasuke doesn't even worry or care about her. Also, Sasuke put Sakura and Kakashi in their place by calling them "useless" directly to their faces while they were being protected under his Susanoo.

You know, Naruto is the one who asks Kakashi and Sakura to stay closer to him...without knowing what's going on up there. And, Sasuke was talking specifically to Naruto to not move around when he comes down to Naruto and he didn't mention the other two. He only wanted to save Naruto with his Sasunoo from the infinite tsukuyomi, but Sakura and kakashi just happened to be near with Naruto.

And Sasuke himself openly said Kakashi and Sakura just happened to be next to Naruto and that's all! Once again Sakura looked so dejected and realizes it even more in this scene. It's very clear that Sasuke didn't care about kakashi & Sakura. When Sasuke summons a hawk , and Naruto points to the right and says, "Sasuke!! Over there!!" to help Kakashi and Sakura, but Sasuke only saves Naruto

We know that Naruto cares about others and Sasuke knows this very well. And Sasuke is the character who will PROTECT those he cares about in dire situations. And who has he been saving repeatedly? NARUTO. But what Sasuke says and his actions are an underscoring for Naruto to prioritize his own safety and life in the war. Sasuke has a valid point that everything would be over if he and Naruto were to die, but it doesn't erase the fact that he doesn't care about Sakura and Kakashi and almost let them die because he was busy saving Naruto, a person who wasn't even in danger to begin with.

Simply put, he would protect Naruto, no matter what. And all Sasuke's actions are completely and purely instinctive and derived from his sub-consciousness.

To which Naruto said,

Raw: お前の言ってることも分かってるつもりだ... けど... こういう時は体が勝手に動いちまうもんだ ろ... 橋での時────

Romaji: omae no itteru koto mo wakatteru tsumori da ... kedo... kōiu toki wa karada ga katte ni ugoichimau mondaro ...kyōde no tokiーーー

Literal: I think I understand what you're saying. But...in this situation, a body moves on its own (unconciously)... Just like that time on the bridgeーーー

What he meant: " just like your body moved on its own to save me on the bridge.... my body also move on its own to save Kakashi & Sakura". Because Naruto does care about Kakashi & Sakura. Therefore, he cannot ignore them falling into the lava and dying.

The Land of the Waves arc, specifically the battle with Haku and Sasuke's sacrifice, was pivotal to Naruto and Sasuke's relationship, as they both realized for the first time how important and deeply they care for each other. It was a very emotional moment for both of them.

When they came back from Land of waves, Naruto couldn't even look at him without blushing, and then Sasuke couldn't even look at him at all. They'd rather die in this moment than admit that how much they care for each other, but their actions speak louder than words.

Whenever something happens between these two, there are always other characters pointing out what's going on. After they return to Konoha, Kishi uses Sakura to point this out, even though it's clearly visualized in the panel:

Raw: あ〜〜〜まだだわ!

Romaji: a〜〜〜madadawa!

Literal: Ahh〜〜〜 Not again!

Raw: この2人...波の国から帰って来てからちょっ と変なのよね...

Romaji: kono 2 nin...ha no kuni kara kaettekite kara chotto hennanoyone...

Literal: These two... have been acting somewhat/ a bit weird ever since we came back from the land of waves...

Raw: づ〜〜〜 何だか気詰まり...

Romaji: zu〜〜〜 nandaka kizumari...

Literal: oh〜〜〜 I feel ill at ease for some reason....

Raw: 早く来い来い! カカシ先生!! じゃーんなろー!!

Romaji: hayaku koikoi! kakashi sensei !! Shānnarō!!

Literal: Hurry up and get here! Kakashi-Sensei!!

Notes:

変な (henna) - strange; odd; peculiar; weird; queer; eccentric; suspicious; fishy; disturbance; funny; abnormal; unusual etc... It is used as a colloquial word that has many meanings.

何だか気詰まり (nandaka kizumari): somehow I feel awkward; Somehow I feel uncomfortable; I don't know why, but I feel ill at ease.

• the author choose the length of prolonged sound mark (ーーー) longer to implying that the sound is prolonged for longer than normal. e. g: Naruto saying "Time on the bridge."

• prolonged sound mark → a wave line (〜〜〜) is used instead of a straight line (ーー)...this often represents a deliberate prolonging of the sound by the character who speaks it or just a trembly, shaky voice of the character.

Only Naruto and Sasuke knew what happened on the bridge, others like Sakura and Kakashi didn't know about it or not very clear about what exactly happened there. Later, Sasuke & Naruto didn't talk about it, but this scene always comes at crucial moments that point to their "precious person". Finally after 5 years, saving Naruto from falling into the lava leads to Naruto talking about what happened on the bridge.

Sasuke saves Naruto even when he knows Naruto could have saved himself because of Kyuubi Mode, but Sasuke has been known to save Naruto even when he doesn't need saving. We also know that Sasuke would rather give Naruto a stupid and lame excuse than tell the truth straight to Naruto's face. So, this isn't the first time Sasuke prioritize Naruto over Sakura, a pattern that has been repeating since Kishi introduced Sasuke to the story in Chapter 3.

Naruto's feelings for Sasuke grew stronger at this point. After everything Naruto had been through and talking to Sasuke every time they met, Naruto knew for sure that Sasuke still cared for him. Naruto could see through Sasuke's actions. Naruto truly understand and knows that Sasuke cares for him and that's why he mentioned what happened in the Land of Waves.

Naruto only says "bridge", but of course Sasuke knows that he was talking about that time at "The Bridge in the Land of Waves."

Sasuke had a reaction to Naruto's words. No matter what Naruto says, he wouldn't say anything... Sasuke is probably trying to show that he's "unfazed," but in reality, he might be "fazed" because Naruto has seen through his heart.

Sasuke's reaction... His facial expression is hidden by his hair and "not visible," but this "invisibility" stirs up the reader's imagination

And he's confidently teasing Sasuke: "Even though I asked you to save them, you saved me...because your body moved on its own... because you cared about me. so I'm sure you understand my feelings to save them....Sasuke"

However, the "meaning" of this conversation...is something only Naruto and Sasuke can understand and it's their extremely personal thing (because the events on that "bridge" are memories shared only by the two of them). Kakashi & Sakura certainly not aware of this peculiar phenomenon that is unconsciously moving bodies.

Sakura's "inner words"... they really express her current feelings. Sakura is convince herself that what Sasuke says is "reasonable." Look at what Sakura says, she herself agrees with Sasuke: "It's as Sasuke-kun says (we're useless)... but (thank you, Naruto for caring about us)...." Sasuke didn't care about her desperate attempts to get his attention. And Even she herself acknowledged it, you know!

Years ago Naruto & Sasuke couldn't even look at each other pretending nothing happened, but now Naruto was talking about it with confidence. And he's clearly flirting with Sasuke.

[reidmarieprentiss]

hi love!! i love your writing and i was wondering if you could write for spencer and cinephile!reader, maybe she wanted to study film in college but couldn´t (totally not self projecting here) and now she just loves to watch new movies with spencer when he gets time off of work. she throws random movie facts throught the day and it's the only time where spencer is left speechless lol.

yes!! oh my god how cute

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆��⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺

Cinephile

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: none!

Word count: 608

main masterlist

It’s a quiet evening, the kind where the world feels a little softer, a little more at ease. You and Spencer are curled up on the couch, a cozy blanket draped over your legs, and the warm glow of the television casting a gentle light across the room. The two of you have just finished watching yet another classic, and as the credits roll, you can feel Spencer's gaze lingering on you.

You turn to him, noticing the way his eyes seem to shine, a small smile playing on his lips. “What?” you ask, though you already know the answer. He’s always like this after you watch a movie together—captivated, not just by the film, but by your passion for it.

Spencer shrugs, a playful grin spreading across his face. “Nothing, I just love listening to you talk about movies. You know so much, it’s fascinating.” His voice is soft, filled with genuine admiration.

You feel a warmth spread through your chest, the kind of warmth that only comes from being truly understood. “I’ve always loved movies,” you say, your voice taking on that familiar excitement that only film can bring out in you. “There’s just something magical about how everything comes together—the direction, the cinematography, the editing. It’s like…every detail matters, you know?”

Spencer nods, completely entranced by your words. “You make it sound like an art form,” he says, his voice almost reverent.

“Because it is!” you reply, your enthusiasm bubbling over. “Take that one scene, for example,” you begin, launching into an explanation of how the lighting created a specific mood, how the camera angles conveyed a sense of intimacy, how the music subtly underscored the tension without overpowering the dialogue.

As you talk, you can see Spencer soaking up every word, his eyes never leaving yours. He’s not just listening—he’s absorbing, understanding, appreciating. It’s moments like these when you realize how lucky you are to have someone who values your passions, someone who listens with such intent, who sees the beauty in the things you love.

When you finally pause to take a breath, Spencer reaches out, taking your hand in his. “I love hearing you talk about this,” he says, his voice sincere. “You’re so passionate, and it makes me see things in a new way. I wish I could’ve seen you in film school—you would’ve been amazing.”

You smile, squeezing his hand. “Maybe, but I wouldn’t trade this for anything. I love our movie nights, and I love that you let me ramble on about all this stuff.”

“Ramble?” Spencer chuckles, shaking his head. “You could never ramble. You make it come alive for me, like I’m seeing the film through your eyes.”

Your heart swells at his words, and for a moment, you’re speechless. Spencer Reid, the man who can quote statistics and facts like they’re second nature, is left in awe by your love for film. It’s a feeling that’s hard to describe, but you know it’s something special, something you’ll always treasure.

As the credits finish rolling and the screen fades to black, you snuggle closer to Spencer, resting your head on his shoulder. “So,” you say, your voice teasing, “what did you think of the movie?”

He smiles, resting his cheek against your hair. “I think it was perfect,” he replies, his voice a soft murmur. “But I think hearing you talk about it was even better.”

And as you sit there together, you realize that it doesn’t matter what life path was chosen for you. What matters is that you’re here now, sharing what you love with someone who loves you just as much, if not more.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

tag list <333 @dirtytissuebox @yokaimoon @khxna @noelliece @dreamsarebig @sleepey-looney @cocobean16 @i-live-in-spite @placidus @criminalmindssworld @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @charismatic-writer @fxoxo @hearts4spensco @furrybouquettrash @kathrynlakestone @chaneladdicted @time-himself @mentallyunwellsposts @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @gilwm @reggieswriter @loumouse @spencerreidsreads @i-live-in-spite 

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

The more I think about season 2, the more grateful I am.

In a lot of ways, OFMD's writers, cast, and crew were given an almost impossible task. S1 was brilliant and took everyone by surprise by how successful it became. I am still shocked every time I rewatch by how smart and efficient the writing is, how intelligent the social commentary. S1 is a masterclass in good television.

And for s2, expectations were incredibly high. OFMD found massive word-of-mouth success in a way I've never seen with any other show, and they suddenly had a big, incredibly passionate audience - the renewal was because of massive fan support, and that must have translated to an incredible amount of pressure in the writer's room. Plus, as if that wasn't enough on its own, they're having to deal with budget cuts and Max slashing them down to only 8 episodes to tell a 10-episode story. This is an incredibly daunting task.

And yeah, I've been critical. OFMD is my favorite show, no contest, and it's easy to be critical of the things we love. We can all see that the pacing was off this season, especially in those last two episodes. Some arcs felt rushed; some side characters didn't get enough screen time to set up what they're doing this season. Jim and Olu especially suffer for that. It's inexcusable that this show's budget was slashed the way it was and I'm sad for what we could have had.

But, on the whole? Holy shit, this season was incredibly successful! Despite an incredible amount of fan pressure, the writers told the story they wanted to tell. They never lost sight of Ed and Stede's story, and were smart about allocating screen time so our leads' arcs never suffered too much for it. There's so much creative problem solving - when they realized they'd need to be smart about which side characters to keep on screen, they turned Buttons into a bird in a way that underscored season themes of transformation and change. 10/10, no notes. They even remembered their audience and left us on a satisfying note for all our characters - we get to end with Ed and Stede, happy and together, starting their new life.

They had an impossible task and they did a fucking commendable job. Character beats and humor are balanced amazingly well. Ed and Stede feel so much more fleshed out this season. Just like in s1, OFMD will never be a show where you can catch everything with one watch - there's so many little jokes, hidden gags, small details to discover with every rewatch. And every single actor is giving it their all in every scene! You can tell how much this show was a labor of love for everyone involved.

I'm proper fucking impressed. Here's hoping they get a renewal and a better budget for season 3!

[heartofbusan]

Now that I'm back from my holiday, I'm catching up on MUSE content. Watching Jimin take charge in the practice room during 'Who dance practice behind' really underscored something we've all known for a while. Jimin is extremely dedicated to his craft. All of the tannies are. Yet there is something about seeing Jimin bloom into a true artist, in every sense of the word, that just brings pure joy.

The behind shows that his hand touches all aspects of his presentation. We have my man here commenting on camera angles and blocking for the mv!? So hot. Fine tuning the choreography. Being adorable with kids?!

All of this preparation for an album that Jimin would be releasing during his enlistment. That made me realize once more how loud the clock was, ticking for Jimin. The window of opportunity to grasp his color, his sound, him as an artist, had a deadline. The joy of being in control and being good at it, had an end date.

Dedicating nearly two years of his life to making two albums, mv's, live performances, behind content, promo content and so many little unseen elements like being involved in album design and who knows what else. There was a clear end (or rather a pause) on his time to focus and dedicate himself towards this goal. And he was willing to risk it all to achieve it.

If you knew that on the one hand your relationship with a certain someone would survive anything, that it could withstand a semi-forced separation, or rather, it would have to endure a sacrifice for the good of both your careers, you could only do that if you knew the commitment to be togetherwas strong. That the commitment is equal and that you both gave it plenty of thought. So, to take that risk of seeing less of each other because you knew that, whatever comes, you'd still be 'together' after this period and after the enlistment, wouldn't you take that chance?

It shows great confidence and dedication from the both of them to be willing to take that challenge. Real trust too. Because missing each other when you've been attached at the hip (just the hip?) would feel disorienting. But in turn, you get to dedicate all of your time and energy towards that other important goal. Both of you would.

We've already seen how much Jungkook missed Jimin during this time. It was painful. However, Jimin made good on his promise to make it up to him by spearheading AYS to make sure they got their time together before enlisting. This is why most of us on here have felt a certain way about the change in pace and substance of AYS. Right? It feels like their time together was precious, and we long to have them had that time be meaningful instead of shared? That's going to be my pc view on that subject.

I wonder where during all this the daring decision was made to go for a joint enlistment. Because that was daring. Getting your cake and eating it too, kinda balsy. It's wild that they thought it up, that they passed the qualifications and that they felt it was important enough to not spend any more time apart beyond the time spent working on their solo careers. I feel like it might have been in the books for a while, longer than we think. That it was the promise made to make it all bearable.

Time was ticking for their solo ventures, but it has always been a steady beat when it comes to their relationship. That current that flows underneath it all.

[mononijikayu]

i wish— kamo choso.

He saw you both grow old together, each wrinkle etched into your faces telling stories of laughter, shared wisdom, and the occasional tears. Sitting together on a porch, watching the sun set into the ocean, you leaned against him, your hair silvered with age, eyes still bright with the love and fierce determination that defined you. There was satisfaction, there was acceptance. There was happiness.

Genre: Culling Games Arc to Shibuya Showdown Arc, 2018;

Warning/s: Emotional Trauma, Character Death, Angst, Romance, Kissing, Tragedy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Purging, Unresolved Tension, Inner Turmoil, Flashbacks, Love and Loss, Slow Burn, Closure, Depiction of Depression, Depiction of Grief, Depiction of Physical Touch, Mention of Death, Mention of Killing, Mention of Harm, Immortality, Emotional Support, Sibling Bond, Sacrifice, Supernatural Elements, Family Themes, Deep Conversations, Existential Themes, Magical Realism;

masterlist

listen: i wish by renee rapp

note: i disappeared because my internet died for a bit but i wrote this when i got service and got tagged into twitter posts about the new jjk leaks and cried so bad and wrote this. i'm posting this because im not suffering alone!!! i love you choso, you'll always be the best brother and human in the world :((((

YOU WERE A CHANGE OF PACE IN CHOSO’S LIFE. Within the enigmatic depths of the Tombs of the Star, Choso came to a profound realization about the nature of your existence. Here, amidst the swirling arcane energies that filled this sacred space, you existed in a symbiotic relationship with the very fabric of the universe. You shared a unique duality with your sibling, Tengen. You were so similar and yet so different — you fit together, almost like two sides of one coin. Choso had always believed his life, devoted entirely to the love and protection of his siblings, was an exceptional calling. Yet, encountering you, he began to see that he was not as unique as he had once thought. In fact, he considered that perhaps your dedication surpassed even his own.

Your immortality, though less celebrated than Tengen's, was just as essential. It underscored a truth often overlooked: what is an eternal life without a companion, without that shared blood and bond? Your unheralded but pivotal role sustained not just the life but the spirit of the Tombs through countless ages, making you an integral thread in the continuity of existence itself.

Your relationship with Tengen was unique, perhaps the only one they truly had. It was easy to see how it was a core part of your existence to serve Tengen. While Tengen wielded overt power, your own strength was in your subtle. Yours was gentle, tenderness — the care of a loving and devoted sibling.

Your days repeated the same. You often were the one reminding Tengen to sleep and rest. You often brought Tengen their meals. At times you sit days on end entertaining Tengen with conversation. At times you sang to them, songs so old that Choso could not make sense of the words anymore. Day in and day out, Choso saw how you lived for Tengen. How you breathe every day to keep Tengen. Choso had felt like he understood you in that sense. He was, after all, an older brother. What you did for Tengen, he had done for his siblings. He wanted to do it for Yuuji too. 

Yuki told him that you were the crucial component for maintaining the equilibrium of the world. Keeping you alive means keeping Tengen alive and well. Keeping you both alive and well means that Choso can also do well by Yuuji. That was all that mattered, he likes to think. And so, he took his task seriously. He was with you, day in and day out. Because if you didn’t exist, there is nothing for Tengen but lonesomeness. Choso didn’t know how Yuki knew all of this about you, but he thinks it's better not to ask. 

Days melded into each other under the starlit dome of the chamber, and in those seemingly fleeting moments, your bond with Choso deepened. Choso doesn’t really talk that much, he only did when people talked to him. But your words were often expressed. You often wander to dreams—whispers about what it might mean to live a truly human life, to age, to experience the mundane. You smiled each and every time, ever so warmly. In these moments, Choso is reminded how you truly are. He often gets reminded of his mother. You both have the same warmth, he thinks. 

By the tranquil pond fringed with burgeoning water lilies, you and Choso found yourselves in a peaceful reprieve from the routine duties that governed your immortal lives. The soft ripple of water under your fingers created gentle disturbances that set the floating blossoms adrift. Choso, often a man of few words, sat beside you, his gaze occasionally following the serene movements of the lilies.

"I don't think I'm doing enough for Tengen-sama," you whispered to him, your voice laced with uncertainty and a touch of despair.

"Why do you think so?" Choso asked, his features furrowing with concern as he raised an eyebrow at you.

You sighed, feeling the weight of your worries press down on you. "Tengen-sama seems so stressed lately. And I... I don't think I've done enough to help with it." The admission felt heavy on your tongue, a confession of perceived inadequacy. "But I don't think they need me. I don't think I'm powerful enough to... to help them the way they need me to."

Your words hung in the air, a testament to the inner conflict that had been gnawing at you. It wasn't just about being useful or fulfilling a role; it was about the fear of not being enough for someone who mattered immensely to you. The idea that perhaps your presence wasn't as vital as you hoped was a quiet torment that echoed the struggles you faced in your eternal existence beside Tengen. Choso watched you carefully, his expression softening as he processed your words.

“You know,” Choso began thoughtfully, choosing his words with care, “power isn't just about the ability to perform grandiose acts or wield visible strength. Sometimes, the truest form of power lies in our presence, in the steadfast support we offer.”

He paused, ensuring he had your full attention. “Tengen-sama carries burdens we can scarcely imagine, and while you may feel that your support isn't changing anything, it could very well be the anchor that keeps them steady. Being there, being constant—that's a power in its own right.”

Choso's voice was gentle yet firm, trying to uplift your spirits. “And remember, it’s not about being indispensable but about being present. You give them someone to rely on, someone who understands them deeply. That’s not a small thing.”

He reached out, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “You might feel that you're not doing enough, but perhaps for Tengen-sama, your continued presence and your care are exactly what they need. It's easy to overlook the value of simply being there, especially when you are used to thinking in terms of more direct actions.”

Taking in his words, you nodded slowly, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly. The idea that your value might not always be measurable in the conventional senses of power and strength, but rather in less tangible, yet equally significant ways, offered a new perspective. Choso's reassurance provided a comforting reminder of your role and importance in Tengen's life—not as a savior or a hero, but as a consistent source of support and understanding.

"You always seem so thoughtful," you remarked, smiling as you continued to play with the water, sending another lily spinning gently. "Tell me, Choso, what is it that you hope for in life? Beyond our duties here, what dreams do you carry? What do you wish for?”

Choso looked at the water before him, his expression reflective. "My life... it's bound to my brother, Yuuji. I want to do right by him, protect him, and ensure he can live fully. In many ways, I live for him."

Your laughter, light and understanding, echoed softly around the pond. "I understand that more than you might think. My existence, too, seems entirely woven around Tengen. I live for them, through them almost." Your smile faded slightly into a more contemplative expression. "But do you ever wonder, Choso, if it's wrong to want something beyond that? To live a life that explores the world beyond just being someone's shadow?”

Choso turned to you, his eyes narrowing slightly in thought. "It's a difficult question. Duty and love bind us, but it's human to crave understanding of the world, to experience it in all its breadth."

"Yes, it is human," you agreed, picking a lily from the water and examining its intricate petals. "And sometimes, I find myself dreaming of a life where I can wander freely, see the worlds beyond these walls, learn and love and perhaps even make mistakes. Just live, not as an immortal bound to duty, but simply as a person."

Choso nodded slowly, his usual reticence giving way to a more engaged demeanor. "Those dreams... they're not wrong. They're part of what makes us more than just guardians or siblings. They make us whole. And perhaps, in dreaming, we find parts of ourselves that duty alone could never reveal."

Your eyes met his, and in that moment, a shared understanding passed between you. Both of you were bound by immense responsibilities, yet within each of you stirred the universal desire to experience life beyond the predefined roles you occupied.

"Maybe, one day, we will explore those dreams," you suggested softly, a hopeful tone threading through your words.

"Maybe," Choso agreed, a rare smile breaking across his face. "And perhaps, in exploring them, we'll bring something back that can enrich the lives we dedicate to those we protect."

The time you spent together in the secluded spaces of the Star Chamber, amid ancient enigmas and whispers of immortality, became sacred. As you shared your deepest dreams and quiet confessions, the bond between you and Choso deepened, moving beyond mere companionship to something richer and more profound. This connection, once unspoken and tentative, blossomed with the ease of a well-nurtured bloom into a tender love.

Amidst the echo of your laughter, which bubbled up like a clear spring in the tranquil silence, and his thoughtful nods, a rhythm developed—an unspoken language of understanding and empathy that only you two could comprehend. Choso, often so guarded and stoic, found in you a solace that allowed him to express thoughts and feelings that he typically cloistered away from the world.

One evening, as twilight draped its violet shroud over the chamber, you both found yourselves by the reflective pool that mirrored the ever-changing sky. The water's surface danced with the light of the first stars, mirroring the flicker of possibilities that your conversations had awakened.

“You know,” you started, breaking the comfortable silence, “I never imagined that someone could understand this part of my life. The part that’s tangled up in duty and care, yet also yearns for something more… something deeply personal.”

Choso looked at you, his usual reserve softened by the topic at hand. “I feel the same. We’re bound by our roles, our responsibilities to those we protect. But speaking to you about dreams, about life beyond our duties, it’s… it’s freeing.” His voice, usually so guarded, carried a hint of wonder, reflecting his own surprise at this newfound openness. “It feels….daring……and human.”

Your laughter, light and genuine, echoed around the natural alcove. “Freeing, yes, and a bit daring too. Being human, in this way — it's hard.”

He smiled, a rare, full smile that reached his eyes. “Daring, but worthwhile. To dream with you, it makes those dreams feel possible, as if they could be more than just whispers in the dark.”

“You make them feel possible for me too,” you admitted, allowing yourself to reflect on the emotional landscape that had unfolded between you. “Before this, my dreams felt like distant stars—beautiful but untouchable. Now, they seem closer, within reach.”

Choso reached out, his hand brushing against yours, a tentative but intentional touch. “Maybe that’s what happens when dreams are shared. They grow, they take on a life of their own. They become something we can both reach towards.”

The simplicity of the touch sent a warmth through you, grounding the moment in something tangible. “And I’m grateful for that. For you,” you added, your voice soft but earnest.

He nodded, his hand gently squeezing yours. “And I am grateful for you. For this peace we’ve found in each other, amidst all the chaos of our existences. It’s a rare gift.”

The serenity that you and Choso had cultivated, a rare respite from the endless cycle of duty and vigilance, was not destined to last. In the realms where celestial fates intertwined, peace was but a fleeting shadow, easily dispelled by the stirrings of chaos. Such disturbance came in the form of Kenjaku, a figure synonymous with disruption and disorder. His intrusion into the sacred confines of the Tombs of the Star was not just a breach of sanctuary; it was a direct assault on the balance you had sworn to uphold.

Kenjaku's arrival tore through the calm like a tempest, disrupting the harmony you had momentarily savored. His motives were clear and malignantly aligned against Tengen's continued influence and your protective stance. With the air crackling with tension and the fabric of reality bending under the weight of Kenjaku’s dark ambitions, you revealed a power kept hidden from the prying eyes of foes and allies alike.

Your mastery over temporal loops, a rare and intricate skill, allowed you to manipulate the threads of time. This ability was not about mere manipulation of moments; it was about reshaping events within confined bursts, creating pockets of altered realities where outcomes could be rewritten, and destinies briefly redirected.

As you confronted Kenjaku, your hands moved with deliberate motions, weaving invisible patterns in the air that pulled at the seams of time. With each gesture, you unraveled  the immediate future, crafting short sequences where different possibilities played out in rapid succession. This was not just a display of raw power but a strategic orchestration of time itself, bending the inevitable towards a reality where balance could be restored.

As Kenjaku's menacing form advanced, the air thick with the threat of destruction, you and Choso stood side by side, united against the looming chaos. The battle's intensity escalated rapidly, with the forces of disorder clashing against the shields of time and duty you both upheld. Yet, amidst the swirling energies and the relentless advance of Kenjaku, you caught sight of the peril that Choso was about to face—a risk you could never allow to come to fruition.

Choso, sensing your sudden shift in focus, turned to you, his expression a mix of concern and determination. "What are you planning?" he asked, his voice tight with worry. He had come to understand you well enough to know when you were about to make a critical decision.

"I need to protect you," you replied, your voice resolute yet heavy with the burden of what you were about to do. "I can create a time loop, a place where you can be safe, where none of this can touch you."

Choso's eyes widened, realization dawning. "No, wait—you can't! What about you? We fight together, remember? You can't just send me away, not like this."

You reached out, grasping his hand firmly, imparting a finality that was both reassuring and heartbreaking. "Listen to me, Choso. This isn’t just about fighting together; it's about ensuring that at least one of us can survive this, and can continue to make a difference. I can manage this, but I need to know you're safe."

"But sacrificing yourself isn't the answer!" Choso protested, his voice rising with emotion. "There has to be another way. We can wait for Yuki; she might have a solution."

"Waiting could be too late," you insisted, your eyes scanning the battlefield, where the fabric of reality seemed increasingly unstable. "I've made my decision. This is the only way I know you'll be truly safe."

With a heavy heart and a sense of urgency, you began the incantation, the ancient words of time magic flowing from your lips. Choso tried to pull away, to argue further, but the spell was already weaving its complex, protective lattice around him.

"I'm doing this because I care, Choso," you said, your voice softening. "In that loop, you'll have peace, and we'll have a lifetime together, even if it's not real. Please, live a full life there, for both of us."

As the last syllables of your spell wove through the air, reality for Choso began to shift, the edges of the present blurring as a new world, shaped by your heartfelt wishes, took form around him. The chaos of battle, the tension of impending doom—all melted away, replaced by the soothing tranquility of a life envisioned with love and hope.

In this carefully crafted reality, Choso found himself in an idyllic version of the world he knew, a place untouched by the scars of conflict or the weight of eternal duty. There, the sun seemed brighter, and the air held the fresh promise of peace. By his side was you, free from the constraints of your immortal obligations, embodying the life you both could have cherished together.

Together, you walked hand in hand towards the sea, the vast expanse of water stretching endlessly before you, its surface glinting under the sun like scattered diamonds. The scene was picturesque, almost too perfect, as if it had leaped from the pages of a forgotten fairytale where every ending was happy, and every heartache healed.

In this serene world, you both raised a family—a dream so distant in your real lives, now vividly alive in this temporal sanctuary. Yuuji and Tengen, often subjects of your protective instincts, appeared not as burdens to be guarded but as children laughing in the garden, playing with others who called you their parent. The simplicity of this life, the joyous normalcy, was a stark contrast to the complexities you had both known.

As years rolled by in this looped reality, unburdened by the passage of time as it would affect the mortal world, Choso experienced every stage of a shared human life. From the vigorous days of youth spent exploring the world with you, through the tender moments of raising children, to the serene acceptance of age, each phase was a gift—a series of moments wrapped in the warmth of enduring love.

He saw you both grow old together, each wrinkle etched into your faces telling stories of laughter, shared wisdom, and the occasional tears. Sitting together on a porch, watching the sun set into the ocean, you leaned against him, your hair silvered with age, eyes still bright with the love and fierce determination that defined you. There was satisfaction, there was acceptance. There was happiness.

Even as this life was but a fabrication, a temporal construct meant to protect and console, for Choso, it felt undeniably real. He lived each day fully, the memories etched into his heart as if they were carved from the very essence of life itself. 

And as the spell reached its inevitable conclusion, with the loop designed to eventually unwind, Choso was left with the imprint of a lifetime spent in blissful peace—a stark contrast to the destiny he had been plucked from, and a poignant reminder of what could have been. This was your final gift to him: not just safety, but a glimpse of a life filled with unbridled humanity. It was joy, love, and the fulfillment of dreams that the real world could never have accommodated.

"Remember me, and live well," were your final whispered words that echoed in the looping reality, even as you turned back to face Kenjaku alone, ready to sacrifice your chance at peace for the safety of the world and the brother you had come to love. 

Outside the time loop, the confrontation with Kenjaku intensified as you steeled yourself for the final stand. The environment crackled with volatile energy, the very air charged with the raw power of clashing wills. Kenjaku, recognizing the depth of your determination, halted his advance, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation.

“You think to defy me with such feeble tricks?” Kenjaku’s voice was cold, dripping with disdain as he spoke. His stance was predatory, a hunter cornering his prey.

“You underestimate the power of sacrifice,” you replied, your voice steady despite the growing storm of power swirling around you. “This isn’t about tricks or defiance. It’s about protecting what matters.”

Kenjaku laughed, a sound devoid of any humor. “Sacrifice? You would throw away your eternal life, for what? These fleeting mortals? This doomed realm?”

“It’s because this realm and its people are worth fighting for,” you asserted, your resolve hardening. “You may crave power, Kenjaku, but you’ve forgotten the strength found in selflessness. I haven’t.”

“You’re a fool then,” Kenjaku sneered, stepping closer, the ground beneath his feet darkening with corrupt energy. “To throw away immortality for foolish mortals is the height of folly.”

“Perhaps,” you conceded, a sad smile playing on your lips as you prepared the final incantation. “But it’s my choice to make. And I choose them. I choose love and life, even if it’s not my own.”

With that declaration, you unleashed the full breadth of your temporal abilities. Time around Kenjaku began to distort, warping and weaving into complex patterns that ensnared him in an intricate loop of your making. His movements slowed as the layers of temporal magic constricted, binding him with chains stronger than any physical restraint.

Kenjaku roared in frustration, his voice echoing across the chamber as he struggled against the relentless force of your cursed technique. “You cannot hold me forever! You’ll break long before I do!”

“Maybe,” you whispered, feeling the strain of your powers consuming your essence. “But we’ll win, Kenjaku. One way or another.”

As the temporal bindings tightened, you felt your life force ebbing away, each moment drawing you closer to the end. With a final look at the world you were giving up, you poured the last of your energy into the spell, cementing it with the ultimate sacrifice.

“See you in another life, Choso.” you murmured, a tear tracing down your cheek as you faced the end with a quiet dignity. The last of your vision faded just as Kenjaku’s form started to battle against your power. You didn’t know if you’ll be successful in the end, but it didn’t matter. It bought time. It bought time for Tengen-sama to leave. It bought time for Yuki to come for Choso. It bought time for Choso. It was more than enough. That’s all that matters. “Tell me all about it then.”

In the quiet aftermath, the cacophony of battle faded, replaced by a resonant stillness that seemed to permeate the very walls of the Star Chamber. The ferocity that had surged through the area moments before now seemed like a distant echo, a turbulent memory overshadowed by the magnitude of your sacrifice. 

Choso, emerging from the temporal loop, was abruptly returned to a reality far grimmer than the one he had lived in his dream-like existence. The serene life he had known with you, filled with laughter, love, and the gentle aging of shared days, dissipated like mist at dawn. Yet, the weight of those memories clung to him, a tapestry of joy and sorrow woven into his being. Tears streamed down his face as the full impact of his loss, of the life that could never truly be, settled upon his shoulders.

Amidst his reeling senses, Yuki’s voice reached out to him, a tether pulling him back from the brink of despair. He could hear Kenjaku too, the sounds of struggle as the villain fought against the temporal bonds you had sacrificed yourself to forge. The air was thick with the aftermath of conflict, with the poignant heaviness of humanity—loss, grief, yearning, joy, love. These emotions, so deeply human, washed over him repeatedly, each wave a reminder of the life he had momentarily lived and lost.

Yet, Choso stood resolute amidst it all. He bore the weight of these emotions not just as remnants of a spell-crafted illusion, but as the real and enduring aspects of the human condition. He carried them because they were now part of him, imprinted on his soul by the experiences you had given him. And he carried them because that’s what you would have wanted. In bearing these memories, in allowing them to shape his path forward, he honored your sacrifice, turning profound loss into a source of unyielding strength.

That bleak winter day, as Shinjuku was engulfed in flames, Choso found himself at the precipice of his own demise. Engulfed in a brutal confrontation, he struggled valiantly to shield Yuuji from the malevolent Sukuna, whose dark intent was manifest in the fierce and unyielding fire around them. But as the flames consumed not only his physical form but also the last vestiges of his earthly bonds, Choso’s thoughts transcended the immediacy of his suffering.

His mind, resilient amid the encroaching shadows of death, wandered back to you and the ephemeral yet poignant life you had shared in the temporal loop. Those memories, vivid and tender, painted a stark contrast to the chaos that now surrounded him. Each recollection of laughter, shared secrets, and quiet evenings spent together in a world without fear or pain stoked a deep, calming warmth within him, distinct from the searing heat of the flames.

As his physical strength waned, the spiritual and emotional fortitude you instilled in him grew stronger. With each labored breath, the pain that racked his body seemed to diminish, overtaken by the growing serenity of his approaching end. The prospect of reuniting with you, of stepping beyond the veil of life into a realm where you awaited him, brought a profound peace—a solace he had yearned for since the wrenching moment of your departure.

Amidst the dance of the flames, where the heat scorched the air and the roar of the fire echoed the tumult of battle, Choso allowed himself a faint smile. It was a smile of acceptance, of readiness to transition from the tumult of his current existence to the peace that awaited with you. In that instant, amidst the devastation, his heart, burdened with loss and battened with duty, was finally ready to come home to you.

As the moment of departure drew near, Choso turned to Yuuji, who had been both a charge and a brother in arms. The words that passed between them were simple yet heavy with the weight of shared experiences and unspoken understanding. “Thank you, Yuji, for becoming my brother,” Choso said, his voice a hoarse whisper over the crackling of the fire.

Yuji, his own eyes reflecting the flames but alight with emotion, nodded solemnly, the bond between them unbroken even in the face of impending separation. “Thank you, Aniki,” Yuji replied, feeling the tears pour from his face. “Thank you.”

Choso thinks life is enough.

Even if it was only a little while.

He smiles one last time at Yuuji.

His wish was granted now and then.

It was all worth it to him in the end.

[pippin-pippout]

Yeah I have thoughts. So many. This'll probably get long and repetitive.

I'm only on the ep with the beginning of Ace's arrival to Wano. I never realized he came to Wano before joining Whitebeard. I guess he got in a lot of shipwrecks.

I think this furthers my belief that when Ace said he died with no regrets, except for not seeing Luffy achieve his dream, it was a big fat lie. It was a lie meant to make it easier for Luffy to accept his death.

Ace made so many promises that he couldn't keep. It's so in their nature (ace and luffy and probably sabo too) to promise the world to anyone they find suffering. And so often, at least for Luffy because of that protagonist's halo, they are able to keep their promises.

But all 3 of them are so reckless with their lives – they don't fear death, but they also don't respect death, and they don't respect what death means for those they leave behind.

Each survived on luck and determination so many times, until for Ace, that wasn't enough. He left behind people he swore to be there for. Now, I don't think he actually stood there and weighed the consequences of turning around to fight Akainu, or that he connected that taking unnecessary risks could lead to him breaking promises.

But I do think it's fair to say that he never understood that his promises to just be there mattered to anyone. So of course can be reckless with his life and accept death with a smile, because death to him was just the ending of his own silly life. He never believed there'd be a little girl counting on his promise, using the weight of that to fill her stomach when there was no food. He never could have imagined himself being that important to anyone - not even Luffy.

It broke my heart to hear how casually and plainly Luffy told Otama of Ace's death.

"It's true. Ace is dead. It doesn't matter when or where she finds out. He's not coming back."

I know Luffy is the epitome of sunshine and looking forward, but it really felt like he said it in such an unemotional manner because that was the only way he could get the words out. If he'd allowed himself to break it to her slowly, or show an ounce of how much he missed Ace, he'd break down. He also hasn't told them yet that he's Ace's younger brother, maybe because that's also too hard to get out.

I love that Luffy is ultimately able to fulfill Ace's promises on Wano on his brother's behalf. And in a way Sabo is fulfilling Ace's broken promise to Luffy. And that's beautiful and tragic and underscores the importance of their brotherhood and the family they found.

But god is it hard to accept. I'm so used to One Piece showing me characters who do get their dreams fulfilled before death, who do manage to fulfill their own promises before death (or fulfill their promises at the cost of their lives), that a character leaving a trail of broken promises feels so false...

And I'm sorry, but to me "carrying the will of Ace" forward feels like a poor substitute for the character themselves. After all, Ace was his own person with his own dreams outside of either of his brothers. As much as they fight for what they know he cared about, neither can live his dream for him.

---

I'm really interested to see how Ace meets Yamato and also what causes him to leave Wano and promise to come back. Obviously he was not remotely strong enough to fight Kaido at that time. Did he plan to come back once he got stronger too? With Whitebeard's fleet backing him up?

[cosmicjoke]

I want to talk about these panels, and particularly, how we see undermined here the notion that Kenny somehow instilled in Levi his belief in life's value.

These panels actually show us the opposite. Kenny says to Levi "Because we found out how meaningless our sad little lives really were."

Kenny flat out says here that he considers life meaningless, and his wording infers that he tried to impart this belief to Levi as well, by including him in the sentence. He says "we found out..."

He then says "But, something saved us. We found somethin' we wanted to do. It's simple. Simple, but true. Hobbies make life worth living."

And here Kenny is talking about dreams again, and how it's the motive of our personal dreams that keeps us going, that gives us a reason to want to keep living, even if life itself is meaningless. He underscores his low opinion of life's worth in general by casually comparing it to the idea of "hobbies", as if life's value is only equal to what activities we engage in to occupy our time when bored. This doesn't denote someone who finds life itself to be inherently worthwhile or innately worth living.

This is the exact opposite of Levi, and that's highlighted here by Levi's disbelieving reaction to Kenny's words. He says "Hobbies? So is blowing my soldiers' heads off one of your hobbies?"

Levi is disgusted by Kenny equating life's worth to something as inconsequential and frivolous as "hobbies". To Levi, life is, in and of itself, inherently valuable, and more than that, it's the one thing he values above all else. People's lives are what motivates him to fight. The desire to safeguard and preserve those lives. To protect them and prove their worth.

Kenny compares them again, saying Levi also kills if it "benefits" him, and Levi agrees, saying "Yeah.". But Kenny killed Levi's soldiers to get him closer to his own, personal dream of supreme power, while Levi killed members of Kenny's squad to protect the lives of his own comrades and himself. Kenny treated the members of Levi's squad like they were minor inconveniences in the way of him realizing his dream, which is where Levi's disgust also comes from, the casual and easy way in which Kenny took their lives, and how he then compared those lives worth to something as pointless as a hobby, easily disposed of because they weren't worth more than his dream to begin with. Because the thing is, Levi doesn't have a dream. There's no intangible and distant goal or desire he looks toward to keep him going, nothing he wants personally for himself. His only goal is to keep people alive, and barring that, to fight for their dreams, to make sure they at least don't die without reason, as a way to prove the worth of those lives. Levi is operating from the opposite stance that Kenny is, that being a belief that life is more valuable than anything, and that it doesn't need a reason or an explanation or an excuse to justify its existence. Just life in itself is what matters, is what's worthwhile and important.

The contrast between the way Levi regards life and the way Kenny regards life is fully expressed and demonstrated through this exchange, and the entire battle between Levi and Kenny's squad.

Kenny clearly didn't teach Levi to value life. He taught Levi to be selfish and greedy and to dispose of anyone who might get in the way of his personal desires. He taught Levi that life is hardly worth the distraction we derive from personal hobbies, that indeed, those hobbies are the only reason we have to go on living, implying the rest of it is pointless and without value or merit of any kind. Kenny would have demonstrated this to Levi too in the way he always so casually took others lives and in the way he taught Levi to do the same.

And yet, we see Levi defy this belief again and again, we see him defy this lesson imparted to him by Kenny again and again, by fighting so ardently for life and its preservation, to no, real benefit of his own, for no fulfillment of a personal dream, but simply for the sake of the people he's fighting for. For the lives of the people.

As I've said multiple times, it's really despite the way in which Kenny raised him that Levi ended up valuing life so much, not because of it.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Parker Molloy at The Present Age:

In recent weeks, Elon Musk's comments about his transgender daughter, Vivian Jenna Wilson, have reignited debates about gender-affirming care for transgender youth. Musk claimed he was "tricked" into supporting his child's transition and that the "woke mind virus" had effectively killed his “son.” However, Wilson's own words and experiences tell a starkly different story — one that underscores the life-changing benefits of gender-affirming care and the importance of listening to transgender individuals themselves.

Musk's high-profile statements come at a time when several U.S. states and entire countries are pushing to criminalize gender-affirming treatments for minors, and some political commentators are suggesting that adopting anti-transgender stances could be electorally advantageous. Yet these positions fly in the face of established medical consensus and the lived experiences of transgender individuals like Wilson. In this article, I’ll examine why Elon Musk is wrong about his daughter and gender-affirming care, drawing on Wilson's own statements, scientific research, and expert medical opinions. I'll explore how Wilson's story actually provides compelling evidence for the positive outcomes of gender-affirming care, and why political efforts to restrict such care are not only cruel but fundamentally misguided. Ultimately, I'll make the case that medical decisions — whether regarding gender-affirming treatments or other personal health matters, such as abortion — are best left to patients, their doctors, and in the case of minors, their parents, rather than being dictated by government legislation or political expediency.

Vivian Jenna Wilson's Experience: Living Proof of Positive Outcomes

Wilson's story provides a powerful counterpoint to her father's claims. Far from being "killed" by gender-affirming care, Wilson is a 20-year-old college student who has found the strength to speak out against misinformation about her own life. In her first public interview, Wilson directly challenged Musk's narrative. "I think he was under the assumption that I wasn't going to say anything and I would just let this go unchallenged," she stated. "Which I'm not going to do, because if you're going to lie about me, like, blatantly to an audience of millions, I'm not just gonna let that slide."

Wilson's account of her relationship with Musk starkly contrasts with his public statements. She described him as an absent father, stating, "He was there, I want to say, maybe 10% of the time. That's generous." When he was present, Vivian recalls him as "cold," "very quick to anger," and "uncaring and narcissistic." She recounts incidents of Musk berating her for exhibiting feminine traits, including an instance in fourth grade where he "was constantly yelling at me viciously because my voice was too high." Contrary to Musk's claim of being tricked into authorizing her treatment, Wilson asserts that he was fully informed when he consented to her gender-affirming care at age 16. She states, "He was not by any means tricked. He knew the full side effects," explaining that Musk read the medical forms at least twice before signing them.

Her journey also illuminates the typical timeline of gender identity realization and disclosure. She came out twice: first as gay in eighth grade, and then as transgender at 16. This aligns with research showing that many transgender individuals realize their identity years before disclosing it to others, countering notions of sudden or externally influenced gender identity changes. The positive impact of gender-affirming care is evident in Wilson's ability to live authentically. She emphasizes her autonomy and self-determination, stating, "I am an adult. I am 20 years old. I am not a child. My life should be defined by my own choices." This sentiment echoes the goals of gender-affirming care: to allow individuals to live as their true selves and make informed decisions about their bodies and identities.

Wilson's experience also highlights the crucial role of family support. While her relationship with Musk is strained, she speaks positively about her mother's support: "She's very supportive. I love her a lot." This underscores the importance of accepting and affirming parents in the well-being of transgender youth, a factor consistently emphasized in research on outcomes for transgender individuals. Moreover, Wilson's ability to pursue higher education and advocate for herself demonstrates resilience and personal growth. Her willingness to challenge misinformation about her own experiences, even in the face of her father's global platform, shows strength of character and a clear sense of self.

[...]

Science vs. Ideology in Transgender Healthcare Policy

The current political climate surrounding gender-affirming care for transgender youth is fraught with tension, as evidenced by the recent Supreme Court decision to hear a case on state bans of such care. This legal battle represents a broader conflict between scientific consensus and political ideology, with potentially far-reaching consequences for transgender individuals across the United States. As of July 2024, 25 states have enacted laws restricting or banning gender-affirming care for transgender minors. These laws have been passed despite the fact that such treatments have been available in the United States for over a decade and are endorsed by major medical associations. The disconnect between medical expertise and legislative action is stark and concerning.

In this context, it's particularly troubling to see suggestions like that made in the New York Times's The Morning newsletter. Writer David Leonhardt urged presumptive Democratic nominee Kamala Harris to adopt a position on healthcare for trans minors that would restrict the type of access that Vivian Jenna Wilson received.  [...] The Yale white paper discussed earlier directly contradicts Leonhardt's characterization of the European medical consensus. It points out that while some European countries have recently reviewed their policies, there isn't a uniform European medical consensus against gender-affirming care for youth. Many European medical bodies continue to support such care when appropriate. [...]

Embracing Evidence-Based Care and Individual Rights

Throughout this examination of gender-affirming care for transgender youth, several critical themes have emerged. Wilson's personal journey stands as a powerful testament to the positive outcomes of such care. Her ability to live authentically and advocate for herself directly contradicts her father's claims about the harm of these treatments. Importantly, her experience aligns with the broader scientific evidence supporting gender-affirming care. This scientific consensus, as detailed in the Yale white paper and numerous studies, provides a strong foundation for the benefits of gender-affirming care. Improved mental health outcomes, enhanced quality of life, and remarkably low rates of regret are consistently reported. It's no wonder that major medical associations, including the World Professional Association for Transgender Health, the American Academy of Pediatrics, and the Endocrine Society, all endorse gender-affirming care based on this robust evidence.

Yet, we've seen how this evidence can be misrepresented. Claims that gender-affirming care is harmful or lacks scientific backing often distort the true scientific consensus. The critique of the Cass Review in the Yale white paper illustrates how selective interpretation of data can lead to misleading conclusions, underscoring the importance of comprehensive and unbiased analysis. The current wave of legislative restrictions on gender-affirming care represents a troubling intrusion of political ideology into medical practice. These laws not only contradict medical expertise but also risk causing significant harm to transgender youth who rely on these treatments for their well-being. Even more concerning are suggestions that political figures should adopt anti-transgender stances for electoral gain, as proposed in the New York Times newsletter. Such proposals prioritize political strategy over the health and rights of a vulnerable population, raising serious ethical concerns.

As we look to the future, it's imperative that we prioritize evidence-based care and individual rights. Medical decisions, whether about gender-affirming care or any other health matter, should remain in the hands of patients, their doctors, and in the case of minors, their parents. Government interference in these personal decisions, especially when it contradicts medical consensus, sets a dangerous precedent that extends beyond transgender healthcare. The upcoming Supreme Court case on state bans of gender-affirming care underscores the national significance of this issue. As this legal battle unfolds, we must continue to amplify the voices and experiences of transgender individuals like Wilson, whose firsthand knowledge of the benefits of this care is invaluable. Musk's statements about his daughter and gender-affirming care not only cause personal hurt but also fly in the face of scientific evidence and the lived experiences of many transgender individuals. The political efforts to criminalize this care are both cruel and misguided, potentially denying life-saving treatments to those who need them most.

Parker Molloy with yet another insightful column on gender-affirming care and Elon Musk’s trans daughter Vivian Jenna Wilson.

[llondonfog]

You know how Lilia often talk about the fact that Silver grew up so fast, for him it’s like if he was a child yesterday and now he’s already a young fine man ?Well, the other day I realized how it felt when I looked at my brother’s cat, Soup.

For context, I know Soup since the day she was born and didn’t realize how fast she grew before holding her in my arms in the other day. Suddenly, I felt that she was not as small and light as she used to be not that long ago. But the shook really hit when I looked at the calendar and realized she was only 5 months old. Like, she was as small as my hand this spring, how could time flew that fast ?!

And then I realized that Soup will probably die in a couple of decade if she lives a good life, waaaaay before me. So I sat and though deeply about this feeling and in a way I understood how Lilia may feel about Silver.

Because Silver is his little kitten, his baby that he loves like his own son. And even if Silver will grow and age much faster than him, he’ll probably be his little kitten until the very end in his eyes, even if Silver is not youthful anymore.

Because like 20 years fly in the blink of an eyes for us, 80 years is nothing in the long life Lilia lived. Yet, the same way our cat will probably leave a deep memory in our lives years after they’ll quit us, Silver will certainly be remembered by Lilia until he himself die.

Of course, I already thought before that this must be quite horrible to feel, as a species that can live longer like fae, to see the ones you love pass out so quickly… But I think I didn’t expect to actually be able to grasp this feeling myself with my relationship with this cat.

Anyway, I needed to share this feeling and since I know you love Lilia and Silver relationship I thought you’d be interested.

as a first-time cat owner myself, i can't tell you how much your ask hit home with me, and makes a perfect reference point for how we interact with these characters. i know exactly how you feel— when i picked up my cat at three months old, he was the smallest, cutest little bundle of fluff, his ears accounted for half of his size! and it's so crazy to look at him curled up next to me now, in the space that could have fit three of him as a kitten. we're celebrating his third birthday in november, and it's hard to believe so much time has passed— where did it go? it feels like only yesterday i was eagerly prepping for his arrival and fussing over his every move, so worried that i wouldn't know how to care for him properly.

and the thought will strike me from time to time, just as it has with you about soup— i will outlive my cat, this sweet little creature that's given me so much joy, purpose, and delight in my life. the very notion of it doesn't seem real, and it's humbling to realize that life is so fleeting and precious, and we have to cherish the time we have with our loved ones (even if they're cats!) because time can only keep marching on.

also, as a person in my late twenties enjoying the game, lilia and silver's relationship really hits home when i consider silver's struggle to accept his own father's decline and compare that to my own parents and the inevitable fact of aging. i don't think i've ever seen a piece of media demonstrate the grief and fear of losing your family structure as well as twst has done, and it honestly floored me with how much respect and nuance that they're treating this relationship.

like you pointed out, the differences in silver and lilia's species and overall ages only underscores how treasured their relationship to each other truly is— lilia is over 700 years old and only found silver at the end of his life. silver is just on the cusp of adulthood, and lilia is all he's ever known, he's silver's entire world and the cornerstone of which he bases all else. and i think that prior to ch7, silver fully expected his father to live beyond him, and i think that was almost a comfort, in a way. to have lilia always be by his side, to never lose his most precious family member and to have the rest of his human life to give lilia the happy ending he keeps wishing for his father to know, only to now realize that those wishes can never come true. lilia will die before silver, and seemingly soon— can we even begin to grasp what that must feel like when you have no other family?

as i've mentioned, i just really appreciate how twst has been handling this development with the gravity and emotional weight that it deserves. silver will always be lilia's one and only son, and i hope that despite all that he's learning about his father's past and even his own, that lilia can remind him of that. no matter how fleeting silver's presence was in the span of lilia's long memory, it was the happiest time of his life.

in any case, thank you for this sweet ask, i really appreciate you sharing your thoughts and how it affected you when you applied it to your own daily life <3 and thank you for allowing me to ramble about my own in return <3

[juju-or-anya]

A small fragment of something that occurred to me

On a quiet afternoon at the Bridgerton residence, Kate and Daphne found Eloise in the library, deeply engrossed in one of her many books. The two women decided it was the right moment to talk to her about a delicate yet fundamental topic. With a mix of seriousness and affection, Kate and Daphne explained to Eloise what sex was, a subject rarely discussed openly in Regency-era society.

They spoke in hushed tones, aware of the need for discretion in a time when such conversations were considered inappropriate for young ladies. They explained that sex was not only a marital duty but also a profound expression of love and connection between two people. Kate, with her straightforward yet gentle nature, emphasized the power a woman could wield over men through her femininity. She spoke of attraction, desire, and how these could be used, but always with great responsibility.

Daphne, more romantic and experienced, talked about the importance of intimacy and trust, underscoring that this power should be reserved for someone truly special. She explained that true love and mutual respect were essential for this connection to be meaningful and beautiful.

Eloise listened attentively, her eyes shining with curiosity and interest. Though initially uncomfortable with the conversation, she began to understand the depth of what they were teaching her. The notion of power and control over men, especially in a society where women had limited opportunities for influence, intrigued her deeply.

In the following days, Eloise couldn't help but think about Theo Sharpe, the young printer who had sparked her intellectual and emotional interest. She decided to test what she had learned, not out of malice, but out of pure curiosity and a desire to better understand her own power and emotions.

Eloise began to use small provocations with Theo. In their encounters, she would drop subtle suggestive comments, maintain eye contact a little longer than usual, and lightly brush his arm as she passed by. She found it fascinating to observe how Theo, usually so confident and composed, began to appear nervous and unsettled by her actions. She enjoyed that sense of control and the knowledge that she could influence his emotions.

Each gesture, each carefully chosen word, was a delicate dance that kept Theo in a state of expectant tension. Eloise discovered with each interaction not only her power over him but also the depth of her own feelings. At first, she saw it as an experiment, a way to explore her newly discovered power. But soon, she realized that her provocations were not merely a game of control but a way to express something deeper.

One afternoon, as they strolled through the park, Eloise found herself alone with Theo in a secluded corner. She felt a wave of boldness and decided to take her game a step further. She approached him, her voice low and filled with intent, as she commented on the beauty of the landscape. Theo, caught between admiration and confusion, watched her with a mix of desire and respect.

"Have you noticed, Theo," Eloise said softly, "how some moments can change everything?"

Theo nodded, unable to take his eyes off hers. "Yes, I have noticed, Eloise."

Eloise smiled, a smile full of mystery and promise. "Those moments are like power, don't you think? A power we must use wisely."

Theo swallowed, his mind struggling to keep pace with her thoughts. "Yes, we must be responsible with that power."

Eloise took a step closer, so close that she could feel the warmth of his body. "Theo, I have learned something very important about power and love. And I have discovered that there is someone special in my life with whom I want to share it."

Theo was speechless, his heart pounding. Eloise, seeing the mix of emotions on his face, decided it was time to be completely honest.

"Theo," she whispered, "all of this, all these provocations… they haven't been just a game. They've been my way of telling you that I love you. That I want to explore this power and this connection with you, not as mere curiosity, but because you are that special person for me."

Theo, shocked and emotional, took Eloise's hands in his. "Eloise, I… I don't know what to say. I love you too. I always have."

Eloise smiled, feeling a wave of relief and happiness. She had used her power responsibly and had found true love in the process. Together, she and Theo knew they could face any challenge, confident that their connection was stronger than any adversity.

[hadesoftheladies]

Girl I FEEL you on the cities thing 😭 there's just something so strange about it. Not all of them ofc but I think it's just what happens when so many strangers are in such tight quarters, empathy can get people hurt if they show too much and that has the weirdest unexpected effects on behavior

i live in the capital city of my country and it gets more populated every day. it is common for us to have positive and enthusiastic conversations with strangers. please note, my city is also one pumping with migrants from all over the world and i live at the CENTER of it. it is nothing like what i experienced in florida, new york or central missouri. i was in the suburbs of central missouri. i saw both manhattan and queens in new york, and i stayed for some time in miami, florida. it was actually the less populated places that had the weirdest people. like both the white and black americans had very strange behaviours. anti-social to the extreme. (in central missouri people would just stare at you and then fake smile or walk away and they'd avert their eyes, keep their heads down, greet no one even people they knew, mumble, stare into the abyss through you LIKE???) it made me question if i grew up speaking english my whole life just because of how weird their communication was. like we had no lingual cues in common and i had an american education! we were literally there to compete as schools under the same curriculum. (most normalest people there were anyone of asian decent, anyone from africa, the guys from honduras, and the two russians that came, and the canadians, at least half of them)

it was actually people from the southern states and new york that talked the most normal throughout my entire trip. new york actually had the most normal people, even among the students i met there. like conversation was natural with them. new york felt like being in my home city, just more ocean-smell. (although in most cases i was only meeting and talking to poc). however, i've also never seen despair on so many people's faces than i did in manhattan. i've never been scared of someone looking miserable but when i say i saw a man whose eyes were black with hopelessness . . . i've never forgotten that look on that caucasian man's face. i've never in my life and in all the places i've been to seen such abject despair on a human being.

i think, bringing it all together, and given what i know about friends and families staying there (i have family in scarsdale, new york and some old childhood family friends in redding, california, and a cousin of mine who stayed in philadelphia for a while) i just . . . let's just say the US is the capitalist capital of the world and it shows in their population. like the mental state of North Americans is just radically different from what a lot us go through. having such a highly consumerist and individualistic culture has really done numbers on so many people there. not to mention its such an efficient empire in terms of mass destruction and propaganda. china is its biggest competitor in that department. i think it's also why that part of the continent has some of the highest rates of mass shootings and serial killings. that system is just so efficient at making sociopaths out of human beings. and the large-scale violence that underscores nearly every interracial relation is just incredible. a family friend is doing university in the US--forgot the state--and he was just like being a black person there is so different from studying in the UK. like it's just so much more oppressive. UK has racists but it's not as dire as the US. you're insulted but not as heavily profiled. in the UK, there's some unspoken respect or understanding given toward foreign students (at least from east africa) because they know we're just there to study and get to work. there's also just way more accommodation and consideration.

the US . . . like it's just depressing going there. also didn't realize how much equatorial privilege i had until i was in florida in the summer with hurricane alerts on the TVs. i have never been blown sideways by the wind. it was crazy!

like my country has frequently struggled with tribalism, but by god it's just not that bad (although our police force is also heavily underfunded). like y'all's government and oligarchs fucked y'all up so bad. your history and economy have just been roasting the humanity you guys are fighting to keep to death. good luck, man. like for all your wealth, i sincerely would never trade places. and im not just saying that to make myself feel better lol. i would not survive. my anxiety would spike up by 1000000000x I'd just get cancer from the stress in like two months.

that being said i also desperately need to leave my city for like a six month vacation XD. i crave the countryside and there's too much noise.

[berryberrytaeberry]

Damn, listening to Yoongi's 'The Last' and following it up directly with 'Snooze' is so healing.

'The Last' of course, has this build from slow to fierce, and it feels like a fiery debate where Yoongi recollects, and explains, and justifies, and fears(?) himself--its like this explosion of self confidence underscored by all of his anxieties, depression, and shortcomings. It's unapologetic and vulnerable while being so self-exultant. I think part of valuing authenticity isn't only about painting your failures on the outside, but also being able to know when you're being hot shit.

And then 'Snooze' is like, this gentle wave, that becomes an avalanche, of telling the listener that yeah, pursuing dreams and fighting to be great is great, but that taking a break and letting those that came before you shelter your path with rose petals is fucking fine, that dreamers should take time to rest, that even Yoongi would wait for the moment you are content, that he would catch you, that he would compose one song that's a trifecta of 3 artists (a legend in Sakomoto, a current star in himself, and a resounding cry from the future of music in woosung) just to make it clear.

I mean, these songs are years apart, so its his active realization of these concepts we can hear. Yeah, they're made concrete in the context of the music industry, but there's something so comforting nonetheless in its relation to just putting up with life's bullshit. We are all dealing with dark fucking shit and yet we deserve to be confident as hell and we don't need to fear falling. Because, though the ground may be hard, it's softer than it was before because there are genuinely people who care, there are people who've come before you whose dream is for you to dream and whose dream is for you to breathe and rest amongst it all.

It's my favorite thing.

[twosides--samecoin]

excerpt; long time running, chapter 16

"Miss Olivia," Codsworth asked. "What do you think of history?"

"Well, history is everything," she replied. "It's all of us."

The mention smacked RJ back to Vault 150. 'Who are you that you do not know your own history?' she'd asked; the question underscored with disdain for his lack of education in the realm of pre-war intenational relations between Canada and the United States.

"Ah.. I am glad to hear that," Codsworth continued. "You see, I think, every day, history is made. Every second, several somethings happen, and all of those somethings across all of the seconds in the day can be as impactful as nuclear fission. Each decision, each sentence we speak- they're just like a neutron colliding into an atom's nucleus. The atom splits and the nuclei are capable of a billion unforeseen consequences, both good and bad, you understand?"

She nodded.

"I can't tell you how loud the world was before the real bombs fell; how small and powerless and inconsequential it felt to be alive then. The news, the incessant chattering- All of it demanded you pay it time; one could hardly think without their mind being pulled toward distractions in every direction. It was like a hundred thousand atom bombs going off, splitting one's focus into a trillion little bits so you could never hope to put it all back together. And then.. The real bombs fell. For two-hundred and ten years, the world was far too silent. For lack of noise, I thought history had reached her untimely end."

He placed a claw on the wool coat. "And then Sir came back; we went into the Museum of Freedom.. I saw the exhibits, I touched this blue coat. I heard those recordings of British Regulars and Colonial American accents.."

An eye articulated toward Jack. "What was that one line we liked, Sir?"

"Two if by sea," Jack smiled.

"Yes, thank you. Two if by sea-"

Deacon cupped his hands around his mouth. "Get on with it!"

"Oh, my sincerest apologies, Mister Deacon." The apertures on each of Codsworth's three eyes rolled in their sockets. "Miss Olivia, you are learning how much I ramble when left unchecked."

"You're fine," she giggled.

"Even though history is happening around us at all times, quite often, life is so busy that one doesn't notice how they played a part until it's over. Instead of active participation, we're resigned to ignore history, or be its steward. As though we never had a choice, when in fact we're all just neutrons smashing into atoms, everywhere we go. Nevertheless, there's something to be said for the magic of feeling part of it all. Realizing you're sat upon an unsplit atom, the moment a neutron is careening toward you."

He chuckled. "Miss Olivia.. Would you like to know the last time I felt that way?"

"Sure,"

"It was hardly a month ago, but it feels like it's been years.. When I watched from the living room as Mister MacCready flew away on a vertibird, Sir explained he was flying very far away, and I was unsure he'd come back alive! And then, I thought, 'Oh, how many Wastelanders get to fly across the country and explore parts unknown? Surely not many!' I realized Mister MacCready was making history, and I swear to my circuits I could feel the groundswell of change. And then he returned with you!"

"Yeah, he's.." Olivia mumbled. "RJ's a regular Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. Crash landed on my mountain."

Hearing her say his name might as well have made his heart skip a beat. Wait, RJ thought. Is that a good thing? Who's- what's Ant One de-

"I have much digressed, I apologize," said Codsworth. "For a very long time, I used to think the splitting of an atom was heartbreaking. Something whole and running perfectly, carelessly torn asunder, only to go on and create bigger messes. How foolish I was to blame the neutron; to assume it was only violent. After all, Sir and Mister MacCready brought you here. I've witnessed the splitting of an atom, and I find its many uncertainties quite wonderful."

"I understand," said Olivia. "You know, I read in a book earlier.. 'I'm sort of glad they've got the atomic bomb invented. If there's ever another war, I'm going to sit the hell right on top of it-'"

Deacon looked up; his eyes widened, a smile erupted across his face.

They finished the sentence in unison. "'I'll volunteer for it, I swear to God I will.'"

She gasped and smiled. "The Catcher in the Rye? You read it?"

"Of course," he grinned. "Old J.D.? So ahead of his time."

"So good," she nodded. "Like, could you imagine being a depressed teenager in the 1950's and there's literally no one like you in the media, and then The Catcher in the Rye came along?"

"Right? Mind blowing. Anyway, you were saying, Chrome Dome?"

"Oh, I have much digressed and waxed rhapsodic to the point I've begun to wane," said Codsworth. "Suffice to say, I look forward to tonight, Miss Olivia, because.. Though my probability matrices are nowhere near as accurate as I'd like them to be, I feel reasonably confident we're all flying through space together on the same nuclei, about to split another atom. History could pivot for the better. Perhaps it's what one might refer to as high hopes?"

[liebgotts-lovergirl]

Fire On Fire: Chapter 27

(Ch. 26.2) ... (Ch. 1)

II Gallery II Symbol Guide II

Summary: "I can accept the idea of my own demise, but I am unable to accept the death of anyone else." - Maya Angelou

WARNINGS: Death, Espionage, War, Survivor's Guilt, the usual

Taglist: @latibvles @softguarnere @brassknucklespeirs @mccall-muffin @lieutenant-speirs @bellewintersroe @emmythespacecowgirl @holdingforgeneralhugs @parajumpboots @hxad-ovxr-hxart @sleepisforcowards @suugrbunz @ax-elcfucker-blog @chaosklutz @mads-weasley @vibing-away @eightysix-baby @ithinkabouttzu @emmylindersson

Contemporary: 11:30 PM, December 2nd, 1944. Liart, France.

“You do know where Liart Station is, right Nix?”

As the pair crept through the thick trees, Alix's whispers were underscored only by the subtle crackling of the frosty ground beneath their feet.

“You’re not going to get us lost agai–” 

“Oh Jesus Christ, let that live forever,” the intelligence officer griped in mock exasperation but even among the chirping chorus of crickets and the occasional crunch of dead leaves, Alix could hear the wry laughter in his voice. 

“How about next time, I complain and you can navigate. How’s that sound, Runt?”

Alix made a vague noise of acknowledgement as they trudged onward, her heart already beginning its heavy drumbeat as speckles of gold began to appear just beyond the treeline a few yards ahead.

The train station.

“Oh ye of little faith,” Nixon remarked dryly and if it hadn’t been for the thick blue lenses, she would’ve rolled her eyes and come up with a snappy retort.

But her mouth had suddenly gone bone-dry, all mirth dying in her throat.

She had bigger problems now.

Under the unforgiving glare of the station lights, there would be nowhere to hide. 

She would be a sitting duck.

It was a spy’s worst nightmare.

Alix’s joints seemed to lock for a split second but she forced herself to catch up with her case officer, slowing only when the hem of her dress snagged on the extended arm of a nearby tree.

“Cazzo!” 

Muttering more expletives under her breath, the spy undertook the arduous task of prying the delicate blue silk from the bough’s stubborn grasp.

The tree's taller branches rustled above her as she worked, showering her in puffy golden blossoms like tiny comets raining down onto her newly-auburn hair as Nixon snickered. 

"Less laughing, more collecting, wise-ass," Alix advised with a cocked eyebrow as she tossed a couple starry blooms in his direction and managed to ease the rest of the gauzy material from the gnarled bark. 

"Saves Donovan some cash on my funeral arrangements." 

“Don’t even joke about that,” the intelligence officer snapped before turning his attention back to the compass in his hand. “You’re going to be fine.”

 Alix would have rolled her eyes but the uncomfortable blue contact lenses stung enough as it was so she settled for an impetuous toss of her hair which launched a few more flowers into the chilly night air. 

“If you say so,” she mumbled but after hiking the skirt of her dress up to her thighs, she forged ahead, trying to ignore the nagging doubts dogging her every step into the night.

No one had told her anything about her mission partner except that they were a floater but that fact alone was enough to fill her with dread.

More of an asset than an agent, floaters were just temporary consultants with highly-specialized skill sets. 

Codebreakers, forgers, interrogators, radio operators, explosives experts, floaters hired by the OSS had talent on top of their respective training, of that she was sure. 

But they weren’t spies and that caused Alix serious trepidation.

How could she put her whole life in the hands of someone who'd never even been in the field before?

What if they froze when she needed them most? Then what?

How did she know they wouldn't sell her out to the Gestapo as soon as they got the chance? 

How did she know they hadn't already done so? 

She didn't, Alix realized as ice seemed to run through her. She didn't know a damn thing. 

What if–

“Knock it off,” Captain Nixon interrupted over his shoulder as if reading her mind. “I can hear you worrying from here.”

“Easy for you to say,” she muttered, tugging the thick mink wrap even closer around herself protectively. 

“You’re not the one walking into a trap, Nix." 

"And neither are you," her handler retorted testily.

“He’ll be there. Just remember the recognition phrase and look for the ring. You'll be fine." 

The notorious skull ring. 

The identifying symbol of a Werwolf Kommando, only gifted to the most dangerous of combatants. 

Alix didn’t even want to know how the OSS had managed to get one for her partner. 

“Hey Runt,” Nixon interrupted her musings once again but his expression was one of slight concern, though his usual laughter still put a lilt in his tone.

They were almost there now.

 “Loosen up, will you? Jesus, you've got the same expression as Dick going on and he usually looks like he’s being marched to the gallows.”

“Well that’s what it feels like,” she grumbled, her stomach churning at the thought of being in plain sight of the Gestapo with a 1 Million Franc bounty out for her capture.

“Hey.” 

Her handler gave her a light smack on the shoulder. There was a brotherly concern in her handler’s eyes but he tried to summon a lackadaisical grin anyway, which she appreciated.

“Relax, 'kay? It’s a mission, not a death sentence.”

The shriek of a train whistle cut off her reply.

It was not her train; she still had plenty of time but she still needed to get to the agreed-upon meeting spot before someone else. 

Hurriedly smoothing some fallen pine needles from her dress, her muscles tensed with anticipation as she made her way beyond the treeline and to the station door, leaving her handler behind in the shadows of the forest.

Alright, she said to herself, forcing an imperious posture as she tugged open the door. Let’s get this show on the road.

∆∆━━━━∆∆━━━━━∆∆━━━━∆∆

If anyone had asked, Alix would’ve told them the worst part of being a spy was the waiting. 

Bathed in the yellow glow of the station lights overhead, she remained frozen on her solitary island, the few passengers in sight hustling past like a flock of seagulls without so much as a glance in her direction.

With every light puff of breath, Alix noticed her fingers twitch slightly with the urge to reach for the rosary that no longer resided there. 

Alix may have been Catholic, but "Tanya" was not. 

Her Nona Lucrezia’s rosary was stuffed into a tiny pouch buried at the bottom of one of her many suitcases, which had already been shipped ahead to Paris. 

In its place around her neck was a weathered golden medallion bearing the icon of Saint Nicholas the Wonderworker, a popular Russian Orthodox intercessor. 

The patron saint of deliverance from misfortune.

She could certainly use some of that right about now.

Feigning boredom, the young agent casually reached into her silk purse and retrieved an ornate silver lighter and her half-smoked pack of Herzegovina Flor cigarettes. 

Instantly, she felt nearby eyes on her. 

Locating the closest reflective surface, Alix clocked the observer: an elderly Frenchwoman in a patchwork skirt who was gaping at her as she shuffled her way past to the fourth bench. 

Of course people were going to stare, Alix reminded herself, trying to focus instead on the lime-green packaging in her lap, the name embossed in glinting gold Cyrillic font.

After all, she was covered from head to toe in diamonds, fur, and silk, not to mention she was smoking the priciest cigarettes in all of the Soviet Union. 

Remembering what Nix had taught her, Alix was careful to pinch the cigarette between her thumb and forefinger instead of how she would normally hold it– casually propped between her first and second. 

"It's always the little things, Runt," the intelligence officer had commented around noontime as he'd adjusted her grip on one of her beloved Chesterfields. 

"The stupidest little things can make or break an op." 

Making a mental note to thank Nix when she got to Paris, Alix took a long drag off her cigarette, enjoying the rich, earthy flavor. 

No wonder it was reportedly Stalin's favorite brand, she mused. The tobacco was of superb quality. 

Noting the time– twenty minutes till midnight – Alix scanned the scene as she awaited the arrival of her contact. 

Liart Station wasn’t very crowded at that hour of the night so he should’ve been easy to spot but none of the men in view wore the distinctive skull ring of the Werwolf Kommandos.

They're going to be late, she thought, gritting her teeth with irritation. This is why I don’t work with floaters.

She could practically hear her handler’s teasing sing-song in her head:

“One-time assets are just as necessary as full-time operatives, Runt."

Only the ones that take the job seriously, Alix thought bitterly. Which this one clearly didn’t, seeing as they had not received any word from them and it was rapidly approaching midnight.

With a huff of irritation, the spy went back to surveying the scene around her.

The gray-haired matron was now hunched over a book whilst a pair of businessmen stood nearby, commiserating about the late hour.

Moments later, a small gaggle of young women bustled past, causing one of the men to let out a rude wolf whistle.  

Clearly working girls, there were about four or five in the bunch, all with tousled hair piled high and splotches of rouge coloring their gaunt cheeks. 

Three were her own age, the other two a bit older, but they all had the same rings of exhaustion around their eyes that even heavy makeup couldn't camouflage.

No doubt, their workday was just beginning but the windy French night had no pity, battering them with icy gusts that their flimsy chemises and torn stockings couldn't hope to combat. 

The call-girls were shivering uncontrollably as they reached the 4th bench, the older two gathering the younger ones to them in a futile attempt to ward off some of the chill. 

A pit formed in Alix's stomach as she watched them.

It was a miserably cold night, the bitter wind nipping at her face, and she had a luxurious coat to protect her. 

The call-girls had nothing, nothing but each other.

How could she help them while still maintaining her cover? 

Hearing raised voices, she glanced toward the sound, where a harried-looking teenager in an ill-fitting blue uniform was scurrying two stairs at a time down to the platform below while an older man in the same uniform was shouting after her, shielding the edge of his coffee cup to prevent spillage as he made his way down the stairs.

The poor girl looked scared to death, nearly in tears, and seeing her supervisor bellowing at her over what was the most minor of mistakes was really pushing Alix's buttons.

Taking a languid puff of her cigarette, the spy yawned and nonchalantly stretched out a leg at the last minute, just as the supervisor was hurrying past her bench to no doubt continuing bullying his employee.

 

The Three Stooges could not have timed it better. 

The man's boot caught the hem of her dress and he stumbled forward, accidentally releasing the cup into the air like a baseball. 

The container’s soaring arc gave Alix ample time to briefly flee the bench, ensuring that while the occasional droplet sprinkled down on her coat like a soft rain, the supervisor was completely doused in his own coffee.

Howling, an expression of confusion and outrage flashed across the middle-aged Frenchman’s face but before he could get a word out, Alix seized the opportunity to round on him first, stepping towards him and snarling expletives in Russian with such vehemence that spit practically flew from her red-painted lips. 

"You idiot," she hissed, switching to heavily-accented French as she examined her clothing with melodramatic horror. "My favorite coat-"

"Madame, I-"

The supervisor had reached out, presumably to assess the damage, but Alix slapped his hand away with a glare so scathing that it would've made even Lady Macbeth run for the hills.

As the spy tore off the offending article, she muttered expletives in Russian before hurling the mink coat to the cobblestones and taking an intimidating step closer to him with a shrewish stomp of her foot. 

"The station will receive bill," she intoned with a final sneer before smoothing off her dress and stalking back to her bench, leaving the priceless mink in a heap on the cobblestone and the station supervisor fuming behind her. 

Noticing one of the shivering women inching her way toward the coat, small puffs of breath escaping her chattering teeth, Alix glanced away at the giant clock mounted on the wall. 

Ten minutes till Midnight. 

She had time.

Affecting boredom, Alix took a long drag off her cigarette and rose from her seat, heading toward the tiniest, most decrepit-looking newsstand she’d ever seen to give the callgirl an opportunity.

Keeping an eye on the last remaining travelers trickling their way into her periphery, the spy flipped through the latest edition of Le Figaro for the benefit of whatever prying Nazi eyes might be watching.

5… 4…

As she counted down in her head, Alix fought the urge to turn around and check.

Pick up the coat, she urged the prostitutes silently, still keeping her eyes trained on the newspaper in front of her as she loitered. Take the damn coat.

3… 2… 

She couldn’t wait any longer without seeming suspicious. 

1…0…

When she began to head back toward her bench, just as she’d hoped, the coat was being used by the older women in the group to shelter the others, all huddling to take advantage of the fur's warmth like chicks under a mother quail’s wing.

One of the callgirls–  was gazing over at her with tear-filled eyes, seemingly unable to find the words to express her gratitude.

Chewing on her bottom lip to avoid smiling, she let her eyes flicker away just as a couple sailors hurried through. 

The thin gold rings encircling both sleeves marked one of them as an Ensign, a junior officer probably just graduated, and Alix felt as though a boulder had been dropped onto her stomach.

╔══ •🖤🖤•🖤🖤•🖤🖤• ══╗

5 Years Ago: 30th Street Station, November, 1939. Philadelphia, USA.

"You're going to send Helen Astor into fits, you know," the eighteen year old teased as she jogged after her brother. "Leaving without saying goodbye when she's been pining after you for years." 

"Well I've been avoiding her for years," Giovanni countered, slinging his canvas knapsack over his right shoulder with a grunt, causing his uniform to rustle. 

"It's Dad who wants me to go steady with her, not me. She's not my type." 

"Have you told him that?" Alix inquired as she wove through the onslaught of servicemembers and their families, all crying and hugging as they said their final goodbyes. 

"Right," Gio snorted skeptically.

"Because that would go over so well. What would I even say?!

'Sorry Pops, I know you had big plans for me but I'd rather get eaten by a shark than marry any of the Astor girls so I’m going to run off to the South Pacific instead! Take my inheritance and shove it! Sincerely, your firstborn’.

Yeah, that’ll go over splendidly.” 

“You’re still the favorite,” the girl reminded him doggedly, a tinge of resentment creeping into her voice.

“Between being valedictorian, track team captain, and an altar boy, I think you could start robbing banks and Dad would still say 'Alix, why can't you be more like your brother?'"

She had expected a breezy chuckle and one of his usual witticisms but her brother let out a long exhale instead.

"I’m sorry about that, Passerotta. I know it can't be easy–”

“Don’t worry about it,” Alix interrupted, her tone sharper than she’d intended it. 

Gio raised his eyebrows but acquiesced and continued the dutiful trudge ahead. 

Jostling past a cluster of other officers, Alix gave her brother a wan smile as she tried to lighten the mood.

"Don’t let this go to your big head but we’re all gonna miss you.”

“Don’t I know it,” Giovanni remarked with a grin. “Between your crying and Mom’s, I thought we were all going to drown before we even got here!”

“Can you blame us?” Alix retorted, trying to keep her voice light. “You are going to be over 4,000 miles away.”

“Yeah, in Hawaii.” Her brother barked out a laugh. “Do you know what happens at a duty station that nobody's ever heard of?” 

Alix shook her head and her brother readjusted his grip on his knapsack, heaving the canvas bag over his other shoulder.

“Exactly,” he grunted, dark hazel eyes twinkling as they continued their walk.

“Nothing happens. I'll be bored to tears."

Alix quickened her steps to keep up with Gio’s long strides.

“You’ll have liberty though, won’t you?” she asked and he shrugged. 

“Once a week supposedly but how many times can a guy watch the same four pictures? Benji says-" 

Alix cocked her head inquisitively.

That was a name she hadn't heard before.

"Benji?" 

"A friend," Gio replied too quickly and Alix swore she could see his cheeks reddening slightly. "At OCS. He was…We were–" 

The train’s piercing whistle cut him off. 

“Well, that’s my cue!” he piped up with a tone of false confidence but she could see the sadness just behind his eyes. 

Noticing her expression, he gave her a light smack on the shoulder and yanked her into a tight hug.

Alix wished she had hugged him for just a little bit longer... But before she knew it, her brother was boarding the train.

Hanging his head out the window, he shot her that trademark million-dollar grin of his, and called out a joke that would still haunt her even 5 years later:

“Relax, 'kay? It’s a three-year contract not a death sentence."

╚══ •🖤🖤•🖤🖤•🖤🖤• ══╝

[palomasu]

"I'm from the suburbs."

The concept of 'suburbia' is a new one for me.

As someone raised in Jamaica, you either lived in one of the major cities like Kingston or Montego Bay, or you didn't. Anything outside of these urban centers was commonly referred to as 'country'; you can think of it like a stark urban-rural divide that often defines the Jamaican landscape. These cities, though, are not like American cities. Most residents live in homes or townhomes and the people primarily use public transportation or vehicles to get to places.

Half-Way-Tree in Kingston, Jamaica

It was only when I came to the United States that I discovered the relevance of suburbia. I remember when I first heard it come up in conversation during my freshman year at Penn: "I'm from the suburbs." It was a simple statement, casually dropped into a discussion about hometowns and backgrounds. To many of my American peers, this phrase seemed to carry a certain significance and conveyed more than just a geographical location. It was as if they were sharing a fundamental aspect of their identity, and I couldn't help but be curious about what it meant.

As I delved deeper into these conversations, I realized that "the suburbs" here referred to a distinct way of life, often characterized by well-planned residential neighborhoods, spacious lawns, and a quieter, family-oriented atmosphere compared to the bustling city centers. People who mentioned they were from the suburbs often described their childhoods in terms of tree-lined streets, lawns, cul-de-sacs, and country clubs.

I quickly realized suburbia was not just a geographical location; it was a lifestyle, a set of experiences, a cultural identity, and most importantly, an ideal. In chapter 16 of Crabgrass Frontier, Jackson underscores this ideal: “But the national cultural preference for privacy, for the detached home on its own plot, will not easily be eroded.” His assertion that this preference "will not easily be eroded" is still relevant today, as we can see, from the statement I heard, that the allure of the suburban lifestyle continues.